A Flight of Arrows (25 page)

July 27, 1777

Schenectady

F
rom house to quay, Anna in tow, Lydia prayed. With the Indian in her kitchen, so earnest with purpose, she'd been certain his arrival and the news he carried to Reginald was of the Almighty's orchestration. About to face its result, she was reaching for trust and hurrying her steps.

A breeze wafted off the river to meet them. On the quay the usual figures milled—bateau pilots and crew, merchants' apprentices shifting cargo into storehouses or away into town. There was the usual barrels, goods, and coiled rope to navigate. She and Anna wove a path through it all, and there at last was Reginald's office…and Reginald, shutting the door. He took up a knapsack lying at his feet and made for a canoe moored nearby.

Of Clear Day there was no sign.

With a steadiness she didn't feel, Lydia raised her voice. “Reginald? Where are you going?”

He'd dropped the knapsack into the canoe but pivoted at his name to see them coming.

“Papa!” Anna ran the last few yards and threw herself into her father's arms. The impact rocked him backward, nearly sending both off the quay into the river before they caught their balance. Lydia could hear the girl's words muffled against the shoulder of Reginald's summer coat. “Papa, I'm sorry. I've been so—”

“There, my girl. I was going to come find you—”

Anna pulled back, slender waist encircled by her father's arms, gazing tearfully into his face. “You were?”

Reginald tucked his chin to smile at her even as emotions contrary to joy played over his face. Sorrow. Regret. Contrition. Lydia's heart leapt with renewed hope. Perhaps he was only headed to the farm…

“I was coming to tell you,” Reginald said. “I must leave the pair of you to one another's care.”

“What?” Hope dashed, Lydia drew near.

Anna stepped back from her father's grasp, tear-stained face bewildered. “Where are you going? After William?”

“You've had the news then?” he asked, fixing Lydia with blue-gray eyes that burned with purpose. With need.

“Two Hawks saw him at Oswego. Clear Day told me, and I've told Anna, but Reginald—”

He held up a hand to stop her. “Lydia, you and the others dissuaded me from seeking William last autumn, but not again. Not this time. I'm going upriver, see, and there is nothing you can say to prevent me.”

The words, though spoken without rancor, struck Lydia silent.

Not so Anna. “Alone, Papa? But you promised Stone Thrower you wouldn't.”

“I did, and I'll make good on my promise if I can. Stone Thrower is scouting out of Fort Stanwix, so that is where I'm bound, in hope of finding him there. But with you, Anna, I must make peace ere I go. For I mean also to look for Two Hawks, should you wish me to do so.”

At the mention of her beloved's name, light infused Anna's countenance. “Papa, yes. Please! But what will you say if you find him?”

Reginald raised his hand to her face, brushing away a tear with his thumb. “That I judged him too harshly. That he is welcome back as my apprentice. Will you forgive me, my girl, for the way I treated him, and you, these past months?”

With a wondering glance at Lydia, Anna said, “I was coming to tell
you that very thing. That I forgive you. And to ask the same of you. When Two Hawks left, he bid me mend what was broken between us, and I didn't do it. I didn't even try. I'm sorry.”

“There, 'tis all right now. But…it is a grave disservice I've done that young man.” Reginald drew Anna to him, kissed her brow, murmured words too soft for Lydia to hear. Against his shoulder Anna's capped head nodded.

They stood thus—her loves—reconciled at last as she had so long prayed, and a warmth of relief encompassed the ache of confusion forming round this precipitous departure. Confusion and…something darker. That shadow again.

Then Reginald put Anna from him and looked at Lydia.

Which of them took the final steps, Lydia would never remember, only that suddenly they stood touching, hands to arms, and there was none in the world but they two. No voices on the quay. No crew unloading that solitary bateau. Not even Anna.

“There is…I mean to say…Lydia—” An expression of almost comical helplessness overcame him, then a longing as raw as it was old. Abandoning words, Reginald kissed her.

Lydia was left dazed, flushed from more than heat. Their gazes held, his tender and questioning.

“Reginald,” she finally managed, voice coming breathless. “What, exactly, did Clear Day
say
to you?”

Indecision warred with the tenderness in Reginald's gaze. “He told me about William.”

“That is all?”

“He…No, that is not all. But there is no time to tell you of it now. Only, Lydia, I could not leave things between us as they have been.” His gaze found Anna again. “With either of you. But now we've spoken and I must go. I intend to overtake the bateaux brigade that left yesterday, so I'll not travel the river alone.”

Lydia's mind felt sluggish in the heat, her heart beating hard with…
dread
. “Reginald, if you find Stone Thrower, what then? Do you plan to take on the British army, the two of you, to get to William?”

This was what she'd feared to find when she reached the Binne Kill. But could this driving need to find Stone Thrower be of the Almighty's leading? Or was it born of that same stubborn need to set right twenty years of wrong? What had the old Indian said to Reginald, apart from the news about William?

“Reginald, where
is
Clear Day?”

“On his way to the farm. I asked him to travel with me on the river. He said he didn't come alone.”

“He told me he did—come alone, I mean.”

“Into Schenectady, yes. Someone awaits him in the woods near the farm.”

“Two Hawks?” Anna broke in eagerly.

Reginald shook his head. “He didn't say it was Two Hawks. I sent Clear Day with a letter for Rowan to provision him with anything needed for the journey home, including another horse.”

Anna stepped closer, her hand to her father's sleeve. “Papa…what about us, Two Hawks and me? He's set on risking his life to find William so he—so you…”

Reginald covered her hand with his. “Let it be enough to know that if he will give our former arrangement—and me—another chance, then he has my blessing to court you. Only be sure, my heart. Is this what you truly want?”

“It is. But Two Hawks needs to know we've your blessing.” Anna clasped his arm. “Let me come with you.”

Lydia nearly heeded the unbidden need to grab his other arm and underscore the plea but saw it would be useless.

Reginald firmed his mouth. “No, Anna. I cannot go without knowing you are safe out of whatever trouble is building in the west.” He turned
to Lydia, his gaze direct, tender still, beseeching. “You will keep her with you?”

She could no more deny him than deny the sun its right to rise; even so the words came dry as husks. “She'll not leave my side.”

Anna's eyes were eloquent with dismay. “Papa,
please
.”

“Hush, my girl,” Reginald said, his hand rising to cup Anna's cheek. “You shall stay, and I shall go, and that is settled.”

Anna nodded, but in her eyes Lydia saw her own thoughts reflected. Nothing about this situation was settled.

Reginald didn't see what Lydia saw, or else he chose not to see it. “Now I must away. Watch over each other. Send to Rowan if you've need.”

They stood and watched him climb into the canoe. With a paddle he pushed off from the quay and began the journey upriver against the sluggish summer current. Lydia didn't look away, unable to quell the thought that it might be the last sight of him she'd ever—

No
. A chill was creeping up from her hands, spreading inward toward her heart. Beside her Anna cried—she could hear her sniffling—but not until Reginald was no longer in view did Lydia turn.

When Anna glimpsed her face, her expression sharpened in fresh concern. “Lydia? What is it?”

“I don't know.” Lydia gave her head a shake but failed to dislodge that sense of foreboding. “Honestly, I don't. A feeling, is all.”

“Not a good one.” Anna clasped her wrist. “And I see you want to go after Papa. Well, let's do so.”

“Go after him?” Lydia replied.

“Not
after
him, exactly. Clear Day cannot be far ahead of us. Let's catch him up, go with him to Kanowalohale. What if Two Hawks is there with Good Voice, not at the fort? Papa won't be going to their town.
We
can.”

Urgency vibrated from Anna's slender frame, catching like contagion. A giddy sense of
hurry
stirred beneath Lydia's ribs. They wouldn't be
venturing alone, not if they found Clear Day in time, and she could see that Anna was determined to try, with or without her.

She drew a steadying breath beneath her stays. “I just promised Reginald to keep you safe.”

“You promised to keep me by your side,” Anna countered. “If we do this together, then I'll
be
beside you. The whole way.”

“Anna…the British aren't gathered at Oswego to enjoy a summer by the lake. We'd be headed straight for them.”

“Not necessarily. They'll have to get past Fort Stanwix, and Kanowalohale is miles from Stanwix—or that's the impression Two Hawks has given.” A distance an army could cross in a matter of hours, should the fort surrender, or fall.

“And I'm not trying to be disobedient to Papa,” Anna hurried on. “I think God's been prompting me all along to go to Two Hawks. At least to Good Voice. Now Papa's given his blessing and Clear Day has come and—”

“There's going to be a battle.” Lydia knew it beyond doubt. She didn't know where it would be fought—Stanwix or elsewhere—or on what scale; it was part of that shadow, premonition—whatever it was.

Anna paled but remained resolute. “If there
is
a battle, you and I could be useful. There'll be wounded.”

A grim certainty, but Lydia couldn't deny what the prospect kindled, a flicker of that calling to heal she'd felt since childhood.

More than a flicker. A leaping flame.

Weakening before it, she began to reason…The Oneidas had scouts. If danger threatened, they'd bring warning. They'd have plans to keep their women and children safe. Good Voice would know where to go if it came to that. And meanwhile, it was true, they might be of use.

Anna sensed her wavering and started to speak again, but Lydia held up a hand. “All right. You've convinced me—nearly. I mean to take Gideon's lead on this.”

“Gideon?” Anna's frown gave way to enlightenment. “Oh. A fleece?”

“Figuratively speaking. If we reach the farm and catch Clear Day before he leaves
—and
he agrees to take us without our forcing him at gunpoint or anything else so drastic—then I'll believe this is the Almighty's leading.”

At least
, she thought,
not a preposterous mistake
.

Anna was already tugging her along the quay. “We must pack swiftly. We'll need food and—oh, I left my box without resupplying.”

“Mine's ready. I'll saddle the horse while you ready yours. Gather up extra bandages and lint. We can share a blanket.”

Lydia pushed through the heat, heart thumping beneath clammy stays, knowing it impossible to anticipate everything they might need or for her horse to carry it if she could. They would take themselves, provisions, their medical cases, and their prayers.