Honor in the Dust (12 page)

They paid for their supper in talk, and the old man listened with his eyes glittering like a small bird's.

He said, “You be tired. I got plenty of cover. Lay yourselves down there in front of that fire. You can take my bed, lady.”

“No, I wouldn't do that.”

“Don't argue with your host! The bed it is for you. The rest of us can make out best as we can.”

They all slept better than they had since leaving their cottage, and the old man gave them a good breakfast the next morning.

As they left, Grace said, “God bless you, dear friend.”

“Why, that's kind of you, and God bless you too. I put some food up for you. I saw that you was traveling kind of light.”

“I think you must be an angel sent to help us.”

The old man suddenly giggled, a high-pitched giggle at that. “Nobody's ever called me an angel, but thank you, lady.”

The snowstorm faded later in the day. The wind was still keen, but the sun came out and melted the snow, which left the road a thick, sticky mud. They traveled for three days, and each day got harder. The food was almost entirely gone. The chickens had been eaten, and they had only a few potatoes, and they ate them one morning for breakfast.

“We're not far from Stoneybrook now. I know this country,” Claiborn said.

“How far is it?”

“No more than ten miles. We'll get there today.”

Now that the time had come to face up to whatever reception would be given them, Claiborn had lost some of his assurance. He would be glad to see his mother, but from Edmund he expected nothing. He knew how stubborn Edmund was, how he
found it difficult to forgive others, and as they plodded along, he prayed constantly that they would find favor.

When they stopped at midday to eat the last of their provisions, he said suddenly, “You know what I think of in the Bible that reminds me of us?”

“What is it? Tell me,” Stuart said.

“Well, you've heard me tell the story of Jacob. How he cheated his brother and had to run away. Years later he came back, and he had a large family. Several wives, concubines.”

“What's a concubine?”

“I'll let you explain that, Grace.”

“It's just a woman who's not quite a wife.”

Claiborn nodded. “That's as good a definition as any. Well, he started back, and when he got close to his home he grew afraid. He had wronged his brother, and someone had told him that his brother was coming with four hundred armed men, and there he was, just a shepherd really, with no skill in arms.”

“What happened?” Stuart breathed, his eyes bright with interest.

“Well, he went out that night, I think probably to pray, and he met an angel.”

“What did he look like?”

“The Bible doesn't say, but it says that Jacob wrestled with him.”

“How could you wrestle with an angel?”

“I don't know, Son, but that's what the Bible says. It says they wrestled all night, and finally the angel said, ‘Let me go.' And Jacob said, “No, I'm not going to let you go until you bless me.”

“And did he bless him?”

“Yes, he did. That was the good Lord, I think, and he reconciled Jacob with his brother, and Jacob had a long and happy life.”

“I wish we had an angel to go with us. Your brother sounds like a mean man.”

Claiborn exchanged quick glances with Grace. The boy had picked up more than they had intended. Claiborn had no knowledge of how much Stuart knew about how he had stolen his brother's intended bride, but Stuart would no doubt hear the story if they stayed anywhere near Stoneybrook.

“I did wrong my brother. He's your uncle, you know.”

“What did you do to him?”

“Tell him the truth, Claiborn. He'll hear it anyway,” Grace said.

“Well, your Uncle Edmund was going to marry your mother, but she didn't love him. For some strange reason, she always loved me.”

“And so you ran away with her, didn't you?”

“Well, I went to my brother and tried to reason with him, but he was angry and wouldn't listen. I suppose he had a right, but he didn't love your mother the way I did. So we ran off to be married and then settled in Ireland.”

Stuart's eyes were fastened on the two of them. “Maybe he won't still be angry. It's been a long time.”

“Almost fourteen years, but we'll have to find out when we see him. Now, let's go on. I'd like to make Stoneybrook before dark.”

“It's so big!” Stuart said. He was staring at the castle and the town and the outlying fields. “This is all your brother's?”

“Yes, it is. Not nearly as big as some. Come along. Let's go.” He heard his name called, and he looked up to see Orrick, who saw to the management of the fields, coming toward him, surprise washing across his face. He stopped in front of the three and grinned broadly. “Well, you're back again, Mr. Winslow.”

“Yes, I am, Orrick. You're looking well.”

“And you don't, if I may say so.”

“Well, we've had a hard journey.”

“Did your brother send for you?”

Knowing what was in Orrick's mind, he said, “No, but I need to see him. Would you go tell him and my mother that we're here?”

“Aye, I'll tell them. I'm glad to see you, Mr. Winslow,” he said in encouragement. “Others will be too, regardless of how your brother responds. Will you wait here or come in?”

“We'd better wait out here.”

Edmund sat in front of a fire half asleep and frowned when Orrick entered his private parlor uninvited. “M'lord, you're wanted in the courtyard.”

“What? Wanted by whom?”

Orrick looked down at the floor, as if unwilling to say what he must. “It's your brother, Mr. Claiborn Winslow, and he has his wife and son with him.”

Edmund jumped to his feet. “What's the villain doing here?”

“He wants to see you, m'lord. I might say he looks pretty bad. Very much like a sick man. They're all pretty worn down.”

Edmund scowled at Orrick. “That's none of my affair! In the courtyard, you say?”

“Yes, m'lord. They wouldn't come in.”

“I should think not.”

Edmund dashed out of the room. When he burst into the open air and saw his brother standing there, he could not speak for a moment. Indeed, Orrick had spoken the truth. Claiborn was not the same man. He was so changed that for a moment Edmund could not believe it was Claiborn, but the anger rose in him as his eyes fell on Grace and then on the boy.
That could have been my son
, he thought bitterly.

He stopped in front of Claiborn and said, “Why are you here? No one sent for you.”

“Well, yes, someone did, in a way.”

“Who took that liberty? Certainly not I.”

“I got a letter from Mother.”

Edmund could not answer for a moment. His anger was not flaring now; it was a dull, steady glow. “You can't stay here. Get out.”

“Please, Edmund, forgive me. I know I wronged you.”

“Oh, now that you're starving and have no place else to go, you're sorry! Where have you been with your sorrow all these years?”

“I would have asked earlier, but I didn't think it would do any good.”

“It won't. You get out of here now.”

“Very well. Come along, Grace.”

They turned the weary animal around and started back to the courtyard gates.

They had just gotten outside when Orrick came rushing after them. “Mr. Winslow,” he said, “your mother says I'm to take you to her summer house.”

Life came into Claiborn's eyes. “Where is my mother?”

“She's in the castle. She said she'll see you later, but for now you go to her house and stay there.”

“That's kind of her.”

“I'll go along with you. I think there's plenty of wood. You could have a nice fire, and she said to bring you whatever food I can get from the kitchen. You look kind of lean in the shank, Mr. Winslow, if you don't mind my saying so.”

“It has been a long, hard journey, but I'm mostly concerned about my wife and son.”

“That's a fine-looking boy. Looks just like you.”

Stuart heard this and smiled. “I am just like him.”

“My name's Orrick, boy. What's yours?”

“Stuart.”

“Stuart Winslow. Well, you're the spitting image of your father—” He almost said “as he used to be,” but he broke off the words.

Thirty minutes later they were at a house lodged beside a small brook that gurgled as it passed. Orrick opened the door, and as they unloaded their possessions, he got a fire going in the large fireplace.

“I'm going to get some food from the kitchen. I'll be back with it soon.”

“That's kind of you, Orrick. You always were kind to me, though.”

Orrick stopped and chewed on his lower lip. Politics were part of his life. He had to get along with Edmund, but he had always had a warm spot in his heart for Claiborn. “I thought of you often since you've been gone, sir. It's good to see you back again and your lady and your fine boy.” He turned then and disappeared.

“You see? God has made a way,” Grace said. Looking around the house, which was small but well-built and snug, she murmured, “Do you suppose your mother will let us stay here?”

“I don't know if she can or not. Legally it might belong to Edmund, but somehow I think it will work out.”

Lady Leah Winslow was in her room, sitting in front of the fire. She had watched Claiborn and his family arrive and leave.

She longed to go after them with Orrick, see them to her house, sit and talk with them, but first she had to deal with Edmund. Her son and Edith arrived as soon as Orrick departed.

Edmund burst out, “Well, Mother, have you heard?”

“Yes. Claiborn's home.”

“He says you sent for him.”

“That's right, I did.”

“You must get rid of him,” Edith snapped. “They have no place here. After what he did to your son, I'm surprised that you'd even think of it.”

“God told me to send for him.”

Both Edith and Edmund stared at her. She looked at them calmly and dared them to speak. Edith almost choked when she said, “God told you? He came to this room, and he spoke to you face to face?”

“God speaks through his Spirit.”

“Well, he can't stay,” Edith said. “Tell her, Edmund.” When he remained silent, she circled him, glaring at him all the while. “We don't have any sons, Edmund. Would you hand all this to your betrayer of a brother?”

“I would never do that! Not after what he did to me!”

“Then be rid of him!”

Leah knew her son's marriage to Edith was hard and had only grown more difficult. Edmund turned to his mother. “I cannot allow them to stay here. I'm sorry, Mother.”

“Well, you do what you must, Edmund. If you refuse to help your brother, I will. I'll use the land your father put in my name to help them.”

Edmund blinked in shock, and Edith did the same. Leah knew they practically counted the days until her death, when her large tract of land adjacent to the present Winslow land would become Edmund's. Then he would have nearly twice as much land to till without having to pay her an annual fee.