Beyond the Cliffs of Kerry

by Hughes, Amanda

  "Colonel Lawrence requests your presence in his office immediately, Miss McBride."

  Wiping her hands on her apron, she walked to the Colonel's office, and the guard swung the door open for her. Nathan was seated at his desk, and Darcy's eyes narrowed when she saw Jean Michel standing behind him. When the guard shut the door, she sat down.

  Nathan cleared his throat. "Darcy, I have some news for you that I know you will not like," and standing up, he continued. "For the next several weeks, you are to serve as assistant to Mr. Lupe' when he surveys for the new fort on the Kensington River."

  Darcy was stunned. She looked at Jean Michel then back at Nathan.

  Her mouth dropped open, and she laughed with disbelief. “Surely you jest!"

  "I assure you, Darcy, I am quite serious," returned Nathan.

  Darcy looked from Nathan to Jean Michel and back again trying to make some sense of this turn of events. Jean Michel stood in the back of the room, remaining quiet.

  "You are sending me into the wilderness alone with another man? Why?"

  "Because Lupe' is in dire need of an assistant, and I can spare no man when we are under threat of an attack."

  Sensing that Nathan was withholding information, she asked, "Nathan, I want to know the entire story. Did he have something to do with this?"

  "No, this was entirely my doing. In fact, Jean Michel was against it initially."

  "Then why?" she asked, standing up, beginning to feel angry. "Tell me Nathan! Why?"

  "All right, if you insist," said Nathan, shrugging his shoulders. "I wanted to spare you the hurt and embarrassment in front of Mr. Lupe', but if you must know, I am sending you to the interior because my wife joins me here in a week's time."

  Darcy had forgotten that Nathan had a wife, and it took a minute for her to absorb it. Then she stood up and began to pace.

  "So this was your solution! I can see that suddenly I am a liability, so you allow this man to take me to the interior to use me any way he sees fit!"

  "He has given me his word that you will not be touched," assured Nathan.

  Darcy laughed and said, "This is all very convenient for you men, isn't it?"

  Struggling with fear and anger, she said nothing for a long time.

  Once again her destiny was dictated by another, and her independence was assaulted. "There must be another way."

  Nathan stood up and rubbed his brow. He was tired of arguing with her, and he decided to end it the conversation. He knew Darcy feared being sold to another, so he said bluntly, "I can sell you to another man. Would you prefer that?"

  At this suggestion, Darcy blanched, and Jean Michel looked down at the floor. He did not feel right watching her squirm under the domination of Nathan Lawrence. He assumed that she was fighting to stay with Lawrence because she loved him.

  Darcy swallowed hard. She was terrified of the prospect of a new owner, but it was not in her character to be submissive. The fury of betrayal burned inside her. "Nathan Lawrence, I have endured your depraved, carnal ineptitudes for over a year now, and the moment I grow inconvenient, you abandon me."

  Nathan's face turned scarlet at this scathing commentary on his sexual prowess, and he stepped around the desk raising his hand to strike her.

  Jean Michel jumped and caught his arm. He looked into Nathan's eyes and said, "I'd rather you didn't do that."

  Panting with rage, Nathan stared at Jean Michel. He had been emasculated twice within a minute, and his pride was severely injured. Lawrence knew he would regret turning his anger on Jean Michel, so he lowered his arm and burned a look into him, thinking, I detest this half-breed bastard, and I hope he rapes the hell out of that bitch! The minute she returns from the field I will sell her. Nathan heard the door slam and knew that Darcy had left the room. Jean Michel gathered his things and left as well.

  Darcy headed out to the parade ground where she had been dyeing yarn. She picked up the wool and jammed it furiously into the pot with a stick. Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned around and faced Jean Michel.

  "We will leave at dawn. Bring nothing more than a few personal belongings. Prepare yourself for a long days' walking in every kind of weather. I don't use a tent. We will sleep under the stars."

  "You touch me once, Lupe' and I'll kill you when you sleep."

  The pity that Jean Michel had been feeling for Darcy dissolved, and he said in a voice heavy with sarcasm, "I am aware of your high moral character, Miss McBride, and I wouldn't dream of staining your pristine reputation." As he walked away he called, "I'm no longer interested in your kind!”

  Darcy watched his back, clenching her fists. She was boiling more fiercely than the water in the pot next to her.

  * * *

  Darcy refused to go to Nathan's room that night, and try as she might to sleep, she could only toss and turn. She had struggled for over a month to avoid Jean Michel, and now Nathan had thrown her into an expedition where she would be alone with the man for weeks.

  His comments about her virtue had stung yesterday, and she upbraided herself for caring about his opinion. Darcy had to admit she had used her appeal to obtain a decent position of service, but Jean Michel had no right to classify her as wanton.

  Just before dawn she dressed in her most comfortable gown and collected a few things which she rolled into a bundle to be carried on her back. She strapped her shot pouch and powder horn over her chest, and bent down to hug Shenanigan good-bye. Last night she had asked one of the laundress’s sons to feed and watch him while she was gone, and the child seemed overjoyed.

  Before closing the door to her room, she grabbed her musket and crossed into the front room. She did not pause outside Nathan's door; she did not care to say goodbye to him. As far as Darcy was concerned, he had abandoned her, and any respect she had for him was gone forever.

  Jean Michel waited for her at the gate, and when they set out the sun was beginning to light the morning sky. He was dressed in a soft buckskin shirt belted at the waist along with breeches and leggings tied upon his legs. His dress was suitable for a long journey in the wild.

  Laden with packs heavy with food and supplies, they ventured deep into the vast interior following an ancient path traveled only by Indians and deer for centuries. Darcy followed silently in Jean Michel's footsteps, looking only at his back or the ground beneath her. They stopped to rest only occasionally. Their mid-day meal consisted of jerky, or pemmican, as Jean Michel called it.

  They did not converse, and the farther they ventured from the fort, the more vulnerable Darcy felt. She realized that Nathan and the four walls of the fort had kept her body and heart protected, and now with every step she took, she was more and more defenseless.

  Jean Michel found himself in a similar situation. He had a deep love of the wilderness, and to be alone with Darcy in a place of such primal beauty weakened his resolve to resist her.

  As sunset approached, he left the path and began to ascend a steep hill. Darcy followed him, struggling through the brush grumbling, as the branches grabbed at her skirts. He looked back and smiled.

  "Don't fret. It's worth the hike up here."

  When they finally reached the summit, they stood on the rocks of a high cliff overlooking the valley through which they had traveled most of the day. The broad expanse of deep green lay out before them, and the setting sun cast long golden rays across the treetops.

  Jean Michel looked at Darcy, as the breeze gently moved her skirts. He watched her stare at the panorama as if she were hypnotized. "She too has a love of the land," he thought.

  "It was worth the climb, wasn't it?"

  "Tis grand up here," she said looking at the Windsor River winding in the distance. "This is what we in Ireland call, a thin place."

  "A thin place, what‘s that?" he asked.

  "They are places on Earth where the ancient Celts believe the boundaries between the natural world and the supernatural worlds are thin. This is one of those places."

  Jean Michel nodded his head
. Darcy’s life had been so different from his own, but her spirit was the same. If only she would allow him to step inside. "I thought you would like the view,” he said.

  "Your homeland never fails to inspire me," she replied.

  "But it is your home too."

  "No," she said shaking her head. "When my term is over, I will return to my own cliff tops in Kerry."

  It had never occurred to Jean Michel that she might want to return to Ireland some day. He slid the cumbersome pack off his back and said, "This is where we will sleep tonight. The breeze will keep the bugs away, so drop your pack and help me build a fire."

  "A fire? You can't build a fire here. The Abenaki will see it."

  "I have no fear of the Abenaki," stated Jean Michel, in a matter-of-fact tone, as he pulled his tinderbox out of his pack. "They know and respect my father's name so they will not harm me. In fact, I spent several summers among them when I was a boy. They are a people much maligned by the British."

  "Sweet Mary, that's fine for you, but what about me?"

  Jean Michel shrugged and said, "Sweet Mary! Now that's another matter."

  A spark jumped from the flint, and he blew gently on the dry leaves to ignite the fire. When he had finished feeding it with some twigs and birch bark, he stood up and said with a twinkle in his eye, "Don't worry, I'll tell them that you are my woman, and they'll not harm you."

  Darcy pursed her lips and began to gather kindling for the fire. As darkness closed in around them, the fire offered warmth and protection from predators, and it bathed them both in a golden glow. Darcy tore up some dried meat and started to prepare a stew.

  "There are some leather britches in my pack you can add too,” Jean Michel said.

  She straightened up and looked at him.

  He laughed. "Oh, I suppose you don't know. Leather britches are dried beans."

  Darcy laughed too and shook her head. They ate their supper in silence by the fire with the black wilderness surrounding them.

  Finally Darcy asked, "Tell me about your father. I am very curious about The Wolf."

  "How do you know that they called my father, ‘The Wolf'?"

  Darcy stammered something about Moses then fell quiet. Jean Michel grinned and said, "That's all right, I've teased you enough for one day. I will gladly tell you about 'The Wolf.' "

  Jean Michel lay back on one elbow and said, "He was a big, booming, good-hearted fur trader who loved my mother with all his heart. He treated her as if she were a priceless work of art, and I believe that secretly he did not feel worthy of her."

  "And your mother, what of her?"

  "My mother," he said thoughtfully. "She was very gentle, a highly educated woman, much more reserved than my father. She had the way of a great lady about her, yet she was incredibly strong. My parents loved each other dearly even if they didn't always understand one another."

  Jean Michel stared into the flames for a long time, thinking about his parents. When the fire popped, he blinked as if waking up and asked, "What of your family? Tell me about them.”

  "I have no family left. My father disappeared when I was a wee babe, and except for my brother Liam, the others died in The Hunger."

  Jean Michel could have kicked himself for asking. He watched Darcy bite her lip. She seemed reluctant to talk.

  After a few moments she said, "When my mother died, Liam, Bran and I went down to the ocean and lived inside the caves, eating kelp and bits of snail to survive."

  "Are these your brothers?"

  "Liam was my brother, Bran was not. He was my betrothed. I waited many years for him, and he turned out to be a sniveling traitor running off with his pockets full of money."

  So there had been someone back in Ireland. He wondered if this Bran had something to do with her arrest.

  "What happened to your brother?" he asked.

  "He was hanged."

  Jean Michel frowned.

  Darcy stood up and gathered the supper dishes. It was clear to Jean Michel that this topic was over. He did not want to fall back into the painful silence, so he asked, "When you came up to Fort Lawrence, did you walk?"

  "No, I rode a horse."

  "A harse!" he said, laughing about her accent.

  Darcy put her chin up and said with a smile, "Well, at least we don't call beans leather britches."

  "All right!" admitted Jean Michel, putting his palms up.

  Darcy sat back down and watched the fire.

  "You mentioned thin places earlier today,” he said. “I believe in these places. I have seen them. I have felt them."

  "They have a way of transforming you," agreed Darcy, remembering the abbey.

  Jean Michel looked at Darcy. She could feel his eyes on her, and she felt herself grow uneasy.

  "So if you and I were together in a thin place, Darcy, would I be able to read what lies in your heart?"

  "If you see anything in my heart, please let me know.” She stood up abruptly, realizing that she said too much. She wanted to get as far away from him as she could, but there was nowhere to go.

  Jean Michel watched her look around frantically, and he felt pity for her. "Darcy, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. You'd better get some sleep.”

  She nodded her head. Having a task made her feel better. She stepped away from the fire into the darkness to slip out of her gown, as Jean Michel untied his leggings and took his boots off.

  He pulled his buckskin shirt over his head and lay down on his bedroll to stretch. He was beyond tired tonight and his legs were sore. He knew that he would be better tomorrow. The first day was always the hardest.

  Darcy lay down not far from him. How could he endure weeks alone with this woman? He was asking the impossible of himself, and he cursed Nathan Lawrence for putting him in this position. Swallowing hard, Jean Michel rolled over with his back to Darcy. He would find a way. He would simply have to find a way.

  The morning sun awoke them both, and after breaking camp they left the cliff top and resumed their journey. The day was warm and by mid-afternoon oppressively hot.

  Jean Michel stopped in the shade of some spruce trees and said, "Do you hear that? It's a waterfall. We can get fresh water, and I can bathe. It's been too many days and the heat is stifling.

  Darcy was surprised. Jean Michel saw her expression and said, "Does it surprise you? I know you like to bathe too. I smelled the freshness all over you the night we danced."

  Jean Michel gave her a crooked smile and gathered his things, disappearing into the woods. Darcy reached into her pack, looking for her drinking gourd. She sat down heavily on a log and watched a tiny bird hop about eating seeds. She rubbed her forehead and thought about her outburst last night. Why did she say that she didn't know what was in her heart? She knew that it was empty. It was hard and cold and incapable of love.

  She stood up and started to pace. This heat was suffocating, and she wished Jean Michel would hurry back so she could cool her body and her feelings in the rushing waters. Why did he continue to try to seduce her? She must never let him know that her resistance was wearing thin. She wondered if he knew that her eyes were continually on him.

  When Jean Michel returned, he pulled his damp hair back with a leather thong and rubbed his skin with pennyroyal to repel the bugs. Darcy grabbed her pack and headed for the waterfall, eager to wash the heat away. It was only a short distance through the trees, and she saw the little waterfall cascading down into the shallow river below.

  Slipping her clothes off, she stepped onto the rocks and got under the crashing water. The pummeling of it helped clear her head, and after giving her hair and body a hearty scrubbing she dried off, dressed and returned to Jean Michel. He stood up when she came through the trees as if he had something to say to her, but stopped. When she started to pin up her hair he caught her wrist saying, "No, don't put your hair up. Please leave it down."

  Darcy pulled her arm away from him and said, "Don't be absurd." Convention dictated a woman keep her hair up unless she
were behind closed doors.

  “We are alone. I am the only one who will see it.”

  Darcy bit her lip, knowing that Jean Michel's request was very intimate. Hesitantly she dropped her arms. He sighed as if he had been holding his breath then picked up his pack to go.

  They walked all afternoon, stopping only occasionally for water or a bit of food. Jean Michel told Darcy to eat steadily throughout the day, in small amounts, to keep her energy up and to save her appetite for a hot meal at night.

  When the sun began to set, he traversed a steep hill, and Darcy followed, grateful to be going up to where the mosquitoes and flies would plague her no longer. The site was atop another cliff, and the beauty of the landscape was as lovely as the night before.