Into the Wilderness (5 page)

She
saw Curiosity observing her from the sideboard, she felt Richard Todd's eyes on
her, and she knew the only way to rescue the new life she had thought to claim
for herself was to speak up as she had never spoken up for herself before.

"Father?"
said
Elizabeth
.
"There seems to be some confusion. How is it that Dr. Todd and Mr. Bonner
haven't heard that I will be teaching school?"

The
judge's eyes darted from
Elizabeth
to Richard and back again.

"My
dear," he began slowly. "All good things in their time, eh? You'll
need a few weeks at least to settle in and learn your way around."

Elizabeth
struggled to keep her growing surprise and distress hidden. With great
deliberation she put down her fork and folded her hands in her lap. "I can
at least make a list of the children and learn a little about them and their
families, Father. And the schoolhouse itself will need to be got in
order."

"What
schoolhouse?" asked Hawkeye. "There's no schoolhouse in
Paradise
that I know of miss.

Julian
put down his fork and knife and turned to the judge. "You don't mean to
say there is really no schoolhouse?" He cast a glance at
Elizabeth
, whose brow was drawn together in a
threat he recognized too well. Then he shrugged his shoulders. "Well,
sister," said Julian. "I guess you'll have your work cut out for
you."

This
was a shock, but
Elizabeth
took it well. She lifted an eyebrow toward her father and waited.

The
judge cleared his throat expansively. "Well, maybe not technically, not
yet, but there will be."

"Father,"
she began slowly. "You wrote to me that you would provide me with
everything necessary to hold school here for any children willing to
attend—"

"So
I did," he interrupted, glancing at the doctor. "So I did. And I will
see to it you have what you need. A schoolhouse will be built."

"And
right smart, too, by the look of it," said Hawkeye.

"Or
Lizzie will have something to say," added Julian.

"In
the meantime perhaps there is some other building which can be of use,"
Elizabeth
said.
"Perhaps the church. On weekdays, of course."

"It's
difficult to heat," said the judge. "It would be very
uncomfortable."

"Well,
then, there must be some other solution,"
Elizabeth
said. "One way or another
there will be school on the first day of the new year." She turned to Dr.
Todd.

"How
many children are there in the village, aged fourteen or less?"

He
thought for a moment. "I would say there are a dozen or more.Not all of
them will come to school, though."

"And
why not?"

"Some
of them ain't free," he said, not meeting her eyes.

"Surely
their parents can spare them for a few hours in the winter when there is little
farm work,"
Elizabeth
said. She looked around the table with growing irritation. "Surely the
parents want their children to learn to read and write," she continued.

She
felt Nathaniel's gaze intensify and she glanced up at him; on his face
Elizabeth
saw something
unexpected: revelation, and some astonishment. She addressed him.

"Mr.
Bonner," she began.

"Nathaniel,"
he corrected her once again.

She
looked around the table once again.

"Surely
the parents would like to have a school for their children?"

He
nodded. "The parents might," he said. "But some of the owners
ain't about to allow it."

"Come
now, don't upset yourself," the judge said, pursing his lips. "I
can't think of more than three slave children who would be of the right age
anyway."

Richard
Todd shifted uneasily in his seat as she drew herself up and turned her
attention to her father, incredulous.

He
anticipated her question. "
Elizabeth
,
I have never owned slaves."

"But
you allow men in the village to hold slaves?"

Agitated,
the judge flushed."That is not something that I can determine
personally," he said. "Because I own land does not mean I control the
legislature. And beyond that,
Elizabeth
,
you must know that some slave owners are fair—minded people, good people,"
he said feebly.

"How
do you know that?" she demanded. "How can you know that? How can you
find anything fair or good in slavery?"

Richard
Todd spoke up. "Because your father knows me, and I have two slaves,"
he said. "But they have no children to send to your school," he
added.

Elizabeth
's
face drained of color; she addressed her father without acknowledging Dr. Todd.

"I
will approach each of the slave owners, then, and ask for permission."

"No
slave owner in
Paradise
is going to send his
slaves to your school, Elizabeth," Nathaniel said quietly. She turned to
him, and saw that he did not mean to offend her, but that he also was unwilling
to spare her the truth.

"And
if he did, then he wouldn't send his own children."

She
squared her shoulders. "Then I will offer to teach them individually. In
their homes."

The
men looked at each other.

"I
must try, at any rate,"
Elizabeth
said. "In my school, any child is welcome." She felt suddenly
deflated, and very tired. "Now if you will excuse me, gentlemen, I beg
your leave to retire."

"But
Elizabeth," her father protested. "You have hardly eaten
anything."

She
stood, smoothing her skirt as she did so, sent her father one long but silent
look, and took her leave of the party.

"Welcome
to
Paradise
!" her brother called after
her, and his laughter followed her up the stair.

Nathaniel
watched
Elizabeth
leave the room with conflicting emotions. She was not at all what he had
anticipated.

He
had expected her to be her father's daughter: oblivious and arrogant, with an
outer but fragile coating of friendly condescension. Instead, he had found her
to be alert and courteous, sensitive where her brother and father were
insensitive, and keenly curious. She had wanted to hear what he had to say; she
herself had things to say that surprised him. Nathaniel had expected a
well—educated young Englishwoman of property to be haughty and distant; he saw
little of that in her, either.

Nathaniel
had expected a spinster who would sit in the corner by the fire reading and
doing needlework, who would leave her warm spot only to venture among those she
saw as less fortunate to bestow her gifts of learning and Christianity. There
were others like that in this country who had done considerable damage, and
Nathaniel had no patience with them. But he had not found her to be a missionary;
instead, he acknowledged, she was woman of considerable strength of character,
and admirable goals for herself rather than for others.

Finally,
too honest with himself to avoid the issue, Nathaniel admitted with a grim
smile that he had expected the judge's spinster daughter to be thin and plain
and sour; that wasn't the case at all.

Nathaniel
realized that he was staring at the door where
Elizabeth
had last stood and that her brother
was watching him. He let his face relax and met Julian's chilly blue glare with
complete equanimity. In the brother, at any rate, he had not been surprised;
Julian was everything that Nathaniel had feared he would be.

Julian
turned to Nathaniel as if he had heard the progression of his thoughts.
"Listen," he said. "I am sorry about your shoulder. Must hurt
like the devil. But it was an accident, after all. Now, what are we going to do
about you?"

The
judge looked up, still clearly disconcerted by
Elizabeth
's departure. "What do you
mean?"

"What
do we owe this man for his ... inconvenience?" Julian asked his father.
"Is there some set price to pay him so that he can be on his way?"

The
judge looked between his son and Nathaniel blankly and then his face cleared.
"Nathaniel of course. I mean to offer you employment; you are skilled with
numbers and you could keep my books for me, couldn't you? You would be well
recompensed. I couldn't offer you lodging in the house, however—"

"I
had a monetary settlement in mind," said Julian. "That would seem to
be sufficient in this case, don't you think?"

Hawkeye
had been following this exchange silently but now he spoke up. "You won't
get Nathaniel to sit inside over your books, Judge," he said with a grin.
"He must needs be out of doors. His mother managed to get his letters and
numbers into him, but he's not overfond of sitting down with 'em."

Nathaniel
turned his attention to the judge.

"I
won't keep your books, and I have a home of my own," he said.

"But
if you feel there's something you owe me, there's something I'll ask of
you."

The
judge nodded. "If it's in my power."

"Good
Lord, Father," muttered Julian.

Nathaniel
ignored Julian. "You can hire me to build the schoolhouse your daughter
wants," he said. "For a fair wage. I'll start tomorrow."

"Tomorrow—"
the judge said, bewildered.

"Even
you can't build a cabin in the middle of winter," Richard pointed out.

"No,
but I can cut the logs and lay the foundation and the chimney. I’ll roll the
logs after the first thaw. I'll need to borrow a team, when it gets that far.
And I'll take half the wage up front."

"That's
a very good offer, Judge," remarked Richard Todd."I would take him up
on it, otherwise you'll be dependent on Billy Kirby to build for you, and you
know what a poor job he'll make of it." Richard looked pointedly at the
crooked door sills and window sashes.

"Done
and done," said the judge with a sigh. "If costs can be kept to a
minimum." He was relieved to have two sticky matters resolved at once.
Elizabeth
would have her
school; his debt to Hawkeye's son would be eased.

* * *

"You've
got your eye on that woman," Hawkeye said to Nathaniel when they were
finally on their way.

Nathaniel
shrugged. "And if I do, what's to come of it?"

His
father laughed softly. "She's fine to look at, sure enough. And smart.
Smarter than her father and brother put together, I'd wager."

They
were making their way up Hidden Wolf, walking the horse the judge had lent
them. The doe was strapped over the mare's back, and the dogs trotted along
behind wearily, glad to be headed for home, but still, with short bursts of
enthusiasm, setting off after any sign of a rabbit.

Nathaniel
took his time answering. He knew his father approved of
Elizabeth
; he wouldn't be bothered talking to
anybody he didn't like, and he had found plenty to discuss with her. He had a
weakness for women with tongues quick enough to match his own.

"She's
content to remain a spinster, she says."

Hawkeye
grunted. "Well, look at her menfolk. If those are the only husbands she's
ever seen at their work, who could blame her?" Then, with a sideways glance:
"Todd will have her if he can get her."

Nathaniel's
shoulder was aching; he rubbed it with the heel of one hand. "If she
brings the land along with her, he will," he agreed. "But it don't
look as though she'll be easily got. She calls herself a spinster, and proud of
it."

"You
had a conversation with her about her spinsterhood right quick, I'd say."

"She's
the kind that provokes me, I won't deny that." The mare threatened to lose
her footing and Nathaniel chirped to her calmly. "Maybe I scairt her
off."

"Or
got her interested."

Nathaniel
nodded. "There's that possibility."

They
walked in silence for a few minutes.

"It
would solve some problems," Hawkeye pointed out.

"If
she brought Hidden Wolf into the match, it would."

Hawkeye
grunted. "I saw you looking at her, and it ain't the land that got your
attention. You looked at her like you looked at Sarah, once upon a time. Now
don't get that face on you. Sarah's been dead five years. She wouldn't have
begrudged you a new woman."

"You
trying to marry me off to the judge's daughter? Right now, with Chingachgook on
his way here with a proposition that's going to make every white man in this
valley howl?"