Into the Wilderness (3 page)

"Did
you get the deer, Father?"

The
judge shook his head. "No, I'm afraid I didn't. Hawkeye—Mr. Bonner—got the
doe, and I—well, I should have listened to Galileo. Most of my shot went wild
but I'm afraid one ball did find a target—"

At
that the two strangers turned toward
Elizabeth
.
Surprised, she saw that neither of them—although dressed like natives, and
wearing feathers in their unbound hair—were Indian. Then, with a wave of
distress that left her unsteady,
Elizabeth
saw what her father had done.

A
flower of blood blossomed freely on the younger man's right shoulder.

Elizabeth
stepped toward him, but he stepped back just as quickly, to avoid her;
surprised, she looked from his wound to his face. She saw lines and planes so
strong that she was reminded of a stone sculpture, straight dark brows over
hazel eyes, and a high forehead creased in—pain? Anger?

And
Elizabeth
took in the
fact that this stranger, this man, was both furious and in complete control,
and that his attention was focused, exclusively, absolutely, on her.

* * *

A
half hour later, once again on their way, Elizabeth found herself seated across
from two men to whom she had just been introduced in the briefest and most
unusual manner. Dan'l Bonner—the one the judge called Hawkeye—was the focus of
her brother's attention. His son, Nathaniel, was utterly silent.

At
the back of the sleigh, strapped quickly across the piles of luggage, was the
deer; Nathaniel Bonner had only agreed to come into the village for medical
treatment once the judge—over Julian's protests—had acknowledged the Bonners'
rightful claim to the animal. Now Julian fumed, arguing in turns with Hawkeye
and his own father. Nathaniel took no part in the argument, but neither did he
miss a word;
Elizabeth
was sure of it.

Elizabeth
found herself glancing up at Nathaniel far more often than she knew she should,
and without fail she found him looking at her. Each time this happened,
Elizabeth looked away and vowed not to look up again, but she could not curb
her curiosity: this was a white man, dressed like an Indian, with a long
earring of beaten silver dangling from one ear; she had heard him speaking to his
father in a language which must be native; he was tall and lean and as menacing
as a whipcord; one broad hand held the barrel of the long rifle in a manner
which was both casual and deliberate. There was a serious wound in his shoulder
which had been hastily stanched with her father's handkerchief and
Elizabeth
's own scarf,
but it seemed to concern him not at all; and he was determined to look at her,
and only her, without pause. This behavior—impertinent, and distinctly
unseemly—so unnerved her that
Elizabeth
could not think of anything suitable to say to him in reproach.

"Father,
I simply do not understand. The land on which the animal fell belongs to
you," Julian was saying.

The
judge nodded. "It does. Right now we are just about in the middle of the
original patent, which was about a thousand acres. Backs right onto the
wilderness on the other side of
Hidden
Wolf
Mountain
."

Elizabeth,
who at that moment was glancing up at Nathaniel, saw a slight tremor in his
face.

"Are
you in pain, Mr. Bonner?"

Her brother
turned toward her irritably."My God, Elizabeth. It's a minor wound. He
won't die of it."

"No
one has ever died of good manners, either, Julian,"
Elizabeth
said dryly. "You might try
some for yourself and find out."

This
brought out a surprised grunt of amusement from Hawkeye, who shifted his
attention from Julian for a moment to appraise
Elizabeth
.

"Then
give him the doe as payment for his pain and suffering," Julian continued.
"But do not call it his. You cannot countenance poaching."

"I
have given Hawkeye and his son permission to hunt on my land, in perpetuity. In
season, of course. That means that the animal is theirs. I wish they would sell
me the saddle to roast for our dinner tomorrow—"

From
the corner of her eye,
Elizabeth
noted how Nathaniel's face grew still at this.

"—but
if they will not, I cannot force them."

"Mr.
Bonner—Hawkeye," Julian said, turning to the older man. "Will you at
least concede that my father has a right to a portion of the meat—" The
judge began to protest, but his son insisted on finishing.

"—as
a token of goodwill?"

Julian's
behavior was shameful;
Elizabeth
could not deny this. But it was one thing to see all her brother's worst faults
come to light, and quite another to see him do it in the company of strangers.
If her brother could not feel the mortification which should be his,
Elizabeth
would. She
tried to catch his eye, but instead she got the attention of Dan'l Bonner.

He
was a man of about seventy years, with white hair touched with hints of his
earlier black, and a deeply weathered face, but with a calm dignity and
intelligence. His voice was deep and had a strange cadence, an intonation
Elizabeth
had not heard
from any other American so far. He was, in short, intimidating in a way she had
not anticipated from a backwoodsman. With a little regret for her brother,
Elizabeth
conceded
Hawkeye Bonner's superiority.

She
glanced up, found Nathaniel looking at her again, and blushed as if he had read
her thoughts.

Hawkeye
finished his perusal of Julian and then spoke to the point. "First
off" he began, in his low, steady voice, "I was hunting in these
woods long before your father set claim to them—"

He
held up a large and callused hand to ward off Julian's interruption.

"You
want to tell me what I already know, that the judge paid good gold for this
land when it was took away from the Loyalists and auctioned. I won't argue that
with you—now. Not right now. You want me to sell your father the doe as a
gesture of goodwill, but this ain't a matter of goodwill," Hawkeye finished.

"What
is it a matter of, then?" Julian asked with one brow raised.

"Hunger,"
said Nathaniel, speaking for the first time since he stepped into the sleigh.

At
that moment, they came to a halt in front of a house built of timber and stone
and
Elizabeth
looked up in surprise. They had driven through the settlement of
Paradise
and arrived without her taking in even the
smallest detail of her new home.

The
judge took the opportunity to interrupt the argument at hand. "Well, there
is a meal waiting for us now, and no one will leave this house hungry today.
But first we need Richard to look after Nathaniel's wound. Galileo! Have Manny
see to the luggage, and go after the doctor yourself. We need him
straightaway." The judge helped his daughter from the sleigh, and then he
turned to the hunters and smiled. "We'll have your needs addressed
immediately," he said, and started for the house, with Hawkeye and her
brother close behind.

Elizabeth
was
left alone with Nathaniel Bonner. She hesitated, searching for something to
say.

"Never
mind if you're going to make excuses for your brother, miss.Don't bother
yourself."

"I
was going to ask you if you have a large family to feed, Mr. Bonner."

For
the first time, Nathaniel smiled at her."I've got no wife, if that's what
you mean."

It
was the smile that set her temper flaring and her heart beating unevenly,
Elizabeth
told herself.
She must forgive him his uncivil manner, and his forwardness, but the smile was
more than she could rationalize.

"It
makes little difference to me whether or not you are married, Mr. Bonner."

"We
don't stand on such ceremony here. Call me Nathaniel. You're spinster woman,
no?"

Elizabeth
's
mouth fell open in surprise, but then she nodded."I am unmarried, and
content to remain so."

Nathaniel
raised an eyebrow. "Are you now? And is your father as content to have a
spinster daughter as you are to be one?"

This
was too much. "Mr. Bonner, you are too familiar—"

"Am
I?" he said, and smiled again, this time with something akin to kindness.
"Or just too honest?"

"Not
that it's any of your concern, Mr. Bonner, but my father respects my wishes and
would never try to force a husband on—a spinster daughter when I have no need
or desire for one." Satisfied with this speech and her own logic,
Elizabeth
thought that
Nathaniel Bonner must now desist.

"And
what do you desire?"

The
question took
Elizabeth
by surprise.
I don't think anyone has
ever asked me that,
she thought, and then in an attempt to hide her
confusion, she turned toward the house.

"We
should go in," she said. "My father has called for a surgeon. He
truly wants to put things right with you."

Just
as suddenly as Nathaniel Bonner's smile had come, it left.

"We'll
see how much your father wishes to put right,
miss.
" he said, and he started for the
house.

* * *

Her
father's housekeeper was a long and very wiry black woman with a thin face
framed by layers of calico. She took one look at Nathaniel's bloody shoulder
and disappeared into the far end of the house, a loud and pointed monologue
trailing along behind her.
Elizabeth
was left to find her own way to her room.

When
she had located it and closed the door behind her, she found herself suddenly
exhausted. There was a fire in the small hearth, and she gratefully fell into
the chair before it, barely looking around herself at the furnishings. She
noted that the windows faced east, but for the moment she could not rouse
herself to go look out, although she had wondered for months what kind of view
she might hope for. With trembling hands she removed her traveling cloak and
hood.

Self—pity and whimpering
,
Elizabeth
observed with a
frown.
This is a fine start you're off
to, my girl.

She
drew three deep breaths and with a suppressed sigh she rose from her warm spot
before the hearth to walk to the dresser.

"You
may be a spinster," she told her image in the mirror over the washbasin,
"but you needn't be unkempt. You will start by making yourself presentable
and finding your own way to the dinner table."

Quickly,
Elizabeth
washed her face and neck in cool water and then in rapid movements took out the
pins which held her hair in place to shake her hair free. Uncoiled, it flew
around her like an unruly veil, as deep as the night and rippling to her waist,
falling from a widow's peak to frame a heart—shaped face, a strong, dimpled
chin, an overgenerous mouth, and widely spaced light gray eyes ringed with
darker gray, the same gray as the linen of her dress. Quaker eyes, her mother
had always called them, affectionately. Now this thought of her mother helped
Elizabeth
, and she looked
around herself. Perhaps her mother had brushed her hair before this very mirror
in the cabin on the mountain the judge had built for her when they were first
married.

With
a start
Elizabeth
realized that her bags were not yet in her room, and that there were no brushes
or combs on the dresser. She opened the door, hoping that Galileo's son might
have been too shy to knock when they brought up the trunks, but the hall was
empty. There was nothing to do but go and find her things.

Smoothing
her rumpled traveling dress as best she could and praying that she would run
into no one,
Elizabeth
made her way downstairs but found that the foyer was empty of people and
luggage. She was confronted with a half circle of closed doors, the far one of
which, she reasoned, led to the kitchens.

Finally,
irritated at herself for her hesitance, she knocked and then opened a door, and
found her father's empty study. The next door opened into the dining room, with
a table set for an expansive midday meal, but also empty.

Growing
impatient,
Elizabeth
opened the third door and found herself in the parlor.

Nathaniel
Bonner was sitting directly before her on a low stool in the light of the
window, stripped to the waist. Another man, tall and very broad, hovered behind
Nathaniel's shoulder with a bloodstained rag in one hand and a scalpel in the
other. At the far wall, on a stool next to the fire, the housekeeper worked
over a mortar and pestle while Hawkeye watched with a critical eye. All four
looked up at
Elizabeth
in surprise.