Honor

by Lyn Cote

  Honor let herself down the ladder, nearly falling in her haste. She shook Samuel awake. When he sat up, rubbing his eyes, she pointed toward the door. “Caleb isn’t in the loft,” she signed, then realized he couldn’t see her hand in such dim light. She moved and held her hand in front of the glow from the low fire, signing it again.

  She heard rather than saw him get out of bed. He clambered up the ladder as if checking her statement. She didn’t blame him. She could hardly believe a small boy would venture out alone into the black night. When Samuel came down, she heard him pulling on his clothing. She hurried to do likewise, donning her dress over her nightgown and tugging on shoes and a shawl as quickly as she could.

  He passed by her and lifted the candlestick from the mantel, lighting the taper from the fire. The candle illumined his face, where she read his concern. He handed her the candle and signed by the light, “We must go after him. I will light the lantern and get my staff.”

  Before he moved, she signed and said, “Where will we look?”

  “The road. His mother went down the road.”

  She signed her agreement. Within minutes the two of them stood just outside the door, the chill hitting her full in the face.

  “Caleb!” Honor called, then felt foolish for calling a deaf child.

  With the lantern, Samuel went out back to make sure the boy hadn’t gone to the necessary. He peered into the window of the kitchen before coming back and shaking his head, letting Honor know Caleb wasn’t with Royale. Then he paused. “I’ll check the barn.”

  He returned within minutes and again shook his head no. Judah hurried out of the barn, joining them. In the thin light from the high quarter moon, Samuel grasped Honor’s hand, and she his. Samuel must be as afraid as she of their losing each other in the dark. But he released her in a moment, bowing to the necessity of signed communication.

  “How far do you think he could get?” Samuel asked her, holding his free hand in front of the lantern light.

  “I don’t know.” Judah had mentioned wolves and bears, but a child could die of exposure just by getting lost among the myriad of trees and not finding his way out. The surrounding forest loomed, impenetrable and threatening. “But we must find him.”

  Judah stood nearby, shivering a little. Samuel paused and told Judah in sign to stay—to protect Royale and Perlie, check on Eli from time to time, and watch for Caleb. The boy would likely head toward Cincinnati, not away. Honor interpreted to ensure the message was clear, and Judah hurried to the kitchen. Honor accepted Samuel’s decision. She could only be grateful that he didn’t send her to wait while he searched alone, for she couldn’t have borne that.

  Samuel moved slowly forward on the rutted road, the pool of lamplight before him. Honor stumbled, saved from falling by Samuel’s hand. In the silence of night, she could hear her heart thudding in her ears.

  Their slow pace countered her desire to run down the road, calling for the child. Another fear reared up in her—not just that they might not find Caleb tonight in the dark. Maybe he didn’t want to be found. Sometimes people couldn’t bear the changes that life forced on them.

  Maybe Caleb had wandered into the forest, unthinking, in a despair as deep as death. She swallowed a moan. Lord, help us find Caleb.

  They pressed on, straining against the almost-complete dark that kept them cautious. The lantern in Samuel’s hand became her guide. What must have been a bat swooped over them. Honor tugged her shawl up over her head and clasped it tightly under her chin.

  The chill of the crisp fall night soon worked its way steadily through the layers of her clothing. She shivered. Cold on the outside, terrified on the inside. A wolf howled in the distance and others of the pack joined in, sending chills through her. Had they detected the scent of the boy and his fear? Or hers and Samuel’s?

  How long had they been walking? Honor glanced up and saw that the quarter moon had lowered against the starry sky. Her perceptions had become altered: her eyes could detect more and her ears had become sharper, picking up the rustling of every small creature through the forest, the low hooting of every owl, and the rush of unseen wings.

  Halfway to Cincinnati, they halted. Honor moved her hand in front of the glow of the lantern to sign. “How far could he go?” Even as she signed, she knew Samuel could not answer. Only God knew.

  In reply, he pulled her to him, pressing her cheek against his wool coat, and she welcomed his touch.

  Then he signed by the lantern light, “We must go home. We can do nothing more now.”

  She held in her crushing despair. They had failed this child. Nonetheless, she turned around with Samuel and began the cold, despairing trek back over the rutted, uneven road. The pointless journey home felt shorter in spite of the miles and even bleaker than before. Would they ever see Caleb again? Oh, Lord, please.

  After stopping to tell Judah they hadn’t found Caleb, Samuel led her inside their cabin and shut the door behind them. Chilled to her marrow, Honor stirred the fire, added kindling and a few slender quartered logs. She rubbed her hands near the awakening fire, trying to warm up. Yet the heat of the fire did nothing to the ice inside.

  Behind her, Samuel set the lantern on the mantel and shed his jacket.

  Suddenly Honor could bear their separation no longer. Rising, she flung her arms around his neck and pressed her face against him, weeping for the child who had lost his family and was now lost himself. Weeping for all they too had lost.

  Samuel froze in place. His wife’s despair over not finding this boy, a deaf boy who’d been with them less than a day, touched him, moved him. He nudged up her chin, intending to comfort her with an understanding gaze. But in the flickering shadows he glimpsed her soft, perfect lips, barely parted.

  And in one swift motion Samuel’s mouth claimed hers. He tried to end the kiss, but instead he deepened it. Any second she’d push him away. But he drank in this stolen moment, yet not tightening his hold, letting her know he’d release her.

  Then he felt it, her lips answering his. Exultation roared through him. His wife wanted him. He swept her up into his arms and carried her to their bed. He laid her down gently and went to his knees. He let his mouth hover over hers, asking her permission.

  She reached up and guided his head downward, his mouth meeting hers, drawing in her breath as his own. Tears clogged his throat as he chanted silently, Honor, my Honor.

  NOVEMBER 10, 1819

  Honor woke the next morning, aware of a lush, sweet warmth. Samuel lay against her, his face on her shoulder and one arm over her. Morning light shone brightly through the windows. She knew she should get up. Perlie would soon bring coffee and breakfast. Instead she gazed at her husband’s handsome face, half hidden against her. She trailed her fingers through his thick, springy hair. Now she knew how it was between a husband and his wife. She blushed, remembering.

  Eli clambered down the ladder. “Where’s Caleb?”

  Her bliss evaporated. She shook Samuel’s shoulder.

  He looked into her eyes, a slow smile registering on his face.

  “Eli is awake and wants to know where Caleb is,” she signed.

  His smile vanished. He rose and signed to Eli. “Caleb ran away last night. After breakfast we will try to decide how to look for him.”

  “He ran away?” Eli echoed. “I want him here.”

  “We do too, Eli,” Honor said soothingly. “Now go wash thy hands and sit down at the table for breakfast. There’s a good boy.”

  Eli moved to obey, and Samuel rolled away from her and donned his trousers and shirt.

  She followed suit, quickly slipping on her clothing, gathering her loosed, tangled hair over her shoulder. After Samuel stoked the fire, she turned and caught him watching her. They exchanged sweet glances.

  Samuel moved to her, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her. Then he left to help Judah take care of their stock.

  Honor blinked away tears of relief, of joy. She and Samuel could not be parted. They had b
ecome truly husband and wife.

  Then she recalled a little deaf boy lost and alone in miles and miles of forest, hungry and feeling unwanted, and she blanched. Father, protect him. Help us find him.

  After breakfast, with Judah at his side, Samuel headed to the barn. He nearly had his shop set up. While Honor drove toward the city to search for Caleb, Judah would help Samuel lay the groundwork of his forge and its chimney. Having someone working beside him who was learning to communicate through sign gave him a feeling he hadn’t experienced since his brother’s death.

  Uppermost in his mind, however, was what had happened last night when he and Honor had arrived home. He didn’t know how to feel, how he was supposed to feel. But making love had altered matters between them.

  She’d been sincerely distressed over the child’s abandonment and his flight. That had drawn Samuel to her in a way he hadn’t expected, made her approachable, open to him. Why didn’t she look at Caleb and despise him for his deafness as others did? Despise Samuel as others did, for that matter?

  Samuel kept reliving moments from the night before. Holding Honor in his arms had been an experience like no other. He’d waited for her to hold back or to stop him. But she had welcomed his touch with a shy eagerness he’d found irresistible. He still had difficulty believing that Honor, a lovely woman of strong character, really wanted him as her husband. But the facts appeared to confirm that she did. The only worry now was, would they find Caleb?

  He entered the barn and, with his hands propped on his hips, surveyed all the progress they’d made. A metal-topped workbench, buckets necessary for water to keep wooden tools from igniting, and in the center of the room, the beginnings of the mighty forge that would melt sand into liquid glass.

  Nevertheless, his concern for Caleb overlaid both his satisfaction with the workshop and his joy and confusion about last night. The boy had suffered the same fate he had.

  Distant memories of the morning Samuel had himself wakened to a silent world flickered in his mind. He’d been angry and terrified, frustrated that he couldn’t hear his mother’s voice. But both his mother and father had loved him enough to hold him close and find a way to communicate with him. I was blessed. The thought startled him.

  Judah tapped him on the shoulder, also startling him.

  Samuel grinned. “Let’s get started.”

  Judah nodded with understanding.

  Samuel’s mind shifted back to Honor. He wished he could have asked her why she’d welcomed him last night, let him become her husband in the most intimate way. But he couldn’t frame the words, couldn’t bring himself to test the still-uncertain waters between them. And for now he was content to be accepted, whatever the reason.

  Before Honor left to search for Caleb, Royale came in to gather the breakfast dishes and halted, giving her a thorough look-over. “Something different about you.”

  Honor blushed, hot and no doubt vivid red.

  “I see,” Royale said with a knowing expression. “You know Judah is courting me?”

  “I like him.”

  “Me too.” Like girls again, they both giggled. Then just as suddenly they stopped. “I pray you find that poor boy.”

  Royale’s heartfelt sympathy poured through Honor. She paused, pressing her lips together to keep them from trembling. “Thank thee.” Honor helped Royale with her chore and walked her to the door, discussing the day’s work ahead of them. “I must go and alert people that the deaf boy belongs to us. If somebody finds Caleb, he couldn’t tell them where home is.”

  Royale nodded solemnly. “I be praying.” She left with the tray of dishes to wash.

  Honor prepared herself to face the world and soon was driving the team away from home. After alerting her neighbors about Caleb, Honor drove down Lebanon Road, first away from the city and then toward Cincinnati.

  At the few cabins she passed, Honor climbed down and asked if anybody had seen a boy around Caleb’s age. No one had. Each regretful comment and promise to watch for Caleb brought her nearer to tears. How could she have foreseen that he would actually run away?

  Finally she had to turn home. She couldn’t believe that the child could have walked in either direction this far in the dark last night. She’d been terrified with a lantern and Samuel at her side. She returned, hungry and thirsty, to Sharpesburg.

  As Honor passed their neighbors’ cabin, Charity ran out. “Did you find the boy?”

  “No.” Honor wrestled down her own despair. “I feel so helpless.”

  Charity clasped her hands together. “I’m praying he’ll come back.”

  Surprised by the woman’s sympathy, Honor tried to smile but was afraid she did a poor job. “Thank thee. I have to get home.”

  When she arrived, Samuel and Judah came out of the barn and Royale, Eli, and Perlie from the kitchen. She knew from their expressions the boy hadn’t returned while she was gone. She choked back helpless tears.

  In spite of everyone watching, Samuel helped her down and clasped her to him, comforting her. She clung to him. They’d done all they could. She knew God held Caleb in his hand, and she prayed he would guide the child home to them, safe. Please, Lord.

  NOVEMBER 11, 1819

  “Hello the house!” A deep, unfamiliar voice called from outside, summoning Honor. She stood at the table, gathering up the tableware from breakfast. Another night and a new morning had come since Caleb had run away. Her pulse quickened. Had someone found him?

  “Coming!” she called. She stepped outside and halted in her tracks, her welcoming smile dying on her lips.

  Two rough-looking men with rifles at their sides sat on the bench of a wagon. One appeared older, with gray in his unruly hair and beard, and the other much younger. A grandfather and grandson? Caleb sat between them, his hands and feet tied.

  She stepped forward and the boy’s name died on her lips. Not only couldn’t the boy hear her, but another sight shocked her to silence. In the back of the wagon, two black men slumped, shackled hand and foot to iron rings embedded in the wood.

  Slave catchers. A silent gasp filled her lungs. Two of this brand of wicked men had kidnapped her Royale. And now two others had come to her door. Her heart plummeting, Honor couldn’t find her voice.

  Eli ran from the cabin. “Caleb!” He halted. “Why you tie him up?”

  “We’re slave catchers, boy,” the older one said. He had one eye whose lid stayed half shut. “We found this kid by the side of the road,” he said around the wad of chaw in his cheek. “We asked around and heard a boy gone missing. Everybody said head this way, that the boy was deaf and wanted here in Sharpesburg.” He spit over the side of the wagon.

  “The blacksmith sent us to your door. What do you want a deaf kid for?” the younger man with long, greasy hair asked, looking at her boldly.

  She ignored his inappropriate attention. One glance at the battered and beaten slaves told her these two knew nothing of compassion. She’d heard people say their skin crawled when encountering something extremely distasteful, and now she felt it herself. “Caleb was left with us by his parents. Eli, run and get thy uncle, please.”

  Honor did not feel safe around these men. She didn’t like the way they looked at her, and Caleb appeared terrified. Had they hurt the boy? She had no way to ask him. Honking geese flew overhead in a V, filling the frustrated silence between them.

  Samuel and Eli joined her. She noted that Judah, Royale, and Perlie remained inside. “Thank them for bringing Caleb back,” her husband signed. He moved to lift the boy down.

  “Not so fast,” the younger slave catcher said, shifting between Samuel and Caleb. “We spent half a day—”

  “More’n half a day,” the older interrupted, “carrying the kid round, looking for this place.”

  “Yeah,” the younger agreed. “And time is money.”

  Though signing what they said to Samuel, Honor stared at them, aghast. Previously they’d said they found Caleb beside the road. No doubt Caleb had finally given up and come
to the roadside, and these two opportunists had snatched him up. And they were demanding a bounty.

  Samuel signed for Honor to ask how much they wanted.

  Honor did so numbly.

  “Two bucks,” the older one said, belligerent.

  Samuel signed for her to go inside and bring out his purse. She did so and handed it to Samuel, who unclasped it.

  Then he opened his palm, revealing the silver coins, and motioned for them to hand him the child.

  The older slave catcher grabbed the money, and the other moved so Samuel could lift Caleb into his arms.

  Honor stepped closer to her husband, still uneasy.

  “We heard your man was deaf,” the younger slave catcher said, actually leering at her now. “Couldn’t you do no better? A pretty gal like you?”

  Honor flushed hotly at the question, though she’d heard it before. “Thee is impertinent. Our business is done. Leave.”

  They laughed as if she’d told them a joke. The older one slapped the reins and turned the wagon.

  Honor stood with her hand tucked into Samuel’s arm and watched the wagon drive away. The black men in the back looked crushed, their eyes staring at her without hope.

  Honor had trouble breathing. She’d been able to rescue Royale but was powerless now. She and Samuel were no match for the slave catchers, who were armed and protected by law.

  The wagon disappeared around a bend. “Untie him, please,” Honor said.

  Her words proved unnecessary since Samuel had set the boy down and was already undoing the knots.

  Caleb began weeping, and the desolate sound tore at her heart.

  She dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around the boy, careful not to block Samuel’s efforts. When Caleb was free, he clung to her and she to him. Only then did she notice that Caleb had fresh bruising and a cut by his eye. Reacting without thinking, she signed, “Did they hit thee?”

  Samuel growled in his throat, a menacing sound, something she’d never heard him do before.