The Endless Forest (65 page)

She startled Martha, coming out of the shadows the way she did.

“Is there something wrong?” Daniel could always read her face, even when she least wanted him to.

And so she told them the whole story while they stood there, dumbfounded.

Martha said, “That’s terrible. Poor Nicholas, he must be very distraught.”

“He’s at Uphill House with Ethan and Callie,” Birdie said. “So you’ll be able to see for yourself.”

Daniel’s brow pulled down low. “So Callie fetched him from the Red Dog, then.”

“Last night,” Birdie said. “Now Lorena’s there all alone.”

“Then let’s knock on her door and invite her to Sunday dinner,” Daniel said. Martha’s face lit up at the idea, and Birdie had to wish she had thought of it first.

“Wait,” Birdie said. “There’s something else that’s bothering me.”

They waited, watching her face. For a moment Birdie was thankful that her people were the way they were. Mostly grown-ups couldn’t be bothered with children who didn’t know their place.

Birdie said, “When they pulled Harper out of the lake he was dressed. Shirt and breeches.”

“Shoes?” Martha asked.

“I don’t think he owned a pair,” Birdie told them. “I never saw him wearing shoes. But I did see him swimming once—” She broke off, her determination to tell this story suddenly deserting her.

Martha smiled at her. “Go on, Birdie. No one is going to scold you.”

“Maybe you won’t,” Birdie said, a little grumpily. “But other people will.”

“Don’t be a coward,” said Daniel.

Birdie knew he was baiting her, but she couldn’t help herself; she rose to it.

“I did see Harper swimming in the lake and more than once. But I never once saw him swimming in shirt and breeks. He shucked his clothes every time.”

Daniel bent over to look her in the eye. “Have you been swimming this early in the season?”

“No,” Birdie said on a sigh of relief.

“All right, then.” Daniel tugged at her earlobe. “I’m glad to hear that your common sense hasn’t deserted you.”

“You swim in cold water all year,” Birdie said.

“And so could you, if you cared to come up to Lake in the Clouds. Now, let me think a while about Harper. I need to talk to Hannah.”

“But not with the boy nearby,” Martha said.

Daniel nodded, but Birdie had the sense her brother was too far away in his thoughts, and hadn’t heard Martha at all.

When the first round of roughhousing was done, the men carried Lily and her chaise longue outside and set her down in the shade of Elizabeth’s fruit trees. Curiosity was waiting for her there, where they were surrounded on three sides by tables, two long and one short.

“Like Caesar looking over his troops,” Lily said of her situation. No hint of boredom or irritation in her voice. In fact, she was in a teasing mood. Elizabeth knew there was reason for her good cheer and even a cautious optimism, but worry still had a strong hold on her own heart.

Curiosity squinted up from the rocker Nathaniel had brought out for her. She reached out and took Elizabeth’s wrist. Her touch was very cool and dry.

She said, “You set too. All those young women in the kitchen, no need for you to be running around. You will just trip over each other’s feet.”

“She’s right, Ma,” Lily said. “Sit with us. Dinner’s almost ready anyway. I wonder where Daniel and Martha have got to.”

Just then Simon came out of the house with another rocker.

“I see I have been outmaneuvered again.” Elizabeth sighed and sat down. “It’s just as well. My feet are sore.”

“They must be fallen off your legs for you to admit something like that,” Curiosity said. “Girls! We need a basin of hot water and some Epsom salts for your grandmama.”

“No, we don’t,” Elizabeth raised her voice. And to Curiosity: “That can wait until after dinner.”

Curiosity grumbled, but she let it go.

“It is so good to be out of doors,” Lily said. She stretched a little and yawned too. Then she seemed to remember herself and covered her mouth with one hand.

“Pardon me,” she said. “Too long out of proper company.”

“There’s company, and there’s family,” Curiosity said. “Yawn if you’ve got a mind to.”

Elizabeth watched the little people running back and forth with dishes and bowls, every one of them looking determined. Luke had
probably offered some kind of prize for the chld who could cause the least disturbance and provide the most help.

She said, “Where is Birdie?”

Lily scanned the scene. “Not here, Ma.”

“She’ll be close by.” Elizabeth said this out loud for her own benefit.

Curiosity made a harrumphing noise.

“Do you have reason to believe otherwise?” Elizabeth asked.

“No, but I know the girl,” Curiosity said. “And I gave up trying to keep track of her long ago. As you will too, someday.”

“Never,” Elizabeth said easily, and they laughed at that, all three of them.

“Oh,” Lily said. “Ma, the boys have got the bagattaway sticks out already.”

Before Elizabeth could get to her feet to set things right Ethan was there in the middle of a crowd of children whose expressions ranged from guilty to insulted. In the end they went stomping off to put the long sticks away.

It was a familiar scene and a very rewarding one, watching the children she had raised taking up the care of the children they had brought into the world. Elizabeth felt the familiar but unwelcome prick of tears behind her eyes.

“Look at the family you made for yourself,” Curiosity said. “I can still close my eyes and see the day you got here. You were the brightest light, Elizabeth. You lit up the room and you still do. Lily, you just about the age your ma was when she come to Paradise.”

Elizabeth managed a smile.

“See how it is? Folks almost never change. Thirty years on and your mama still cain’t take a compliment. Look at her blush.”

Lily said, “I see. But that’s because she’s happy, Curiosity. She’s so happy she’s going to start weeping any second.” This last bit came with a cheeky grin, and that was what Elizabeth needed. She sat up straighter.

Curiosity said, “While I got you two alone, let me ask you what is happening with young Nicholas Wilde.”

Elizabeth scanned the crowd and saw that the boy was coming around the far side of the house with his arms full of firewood. The other boys followed suit, with the littlest carrying one piece of tinder in each hand.

“Callie and Ethan took him home,” Lily answered Curiosity when it was clear her mother would not.

“That don’t sit right with you, Elizabeth?”

She hesitated. “If they want to take the boy in, who am I to stop them?”

This question was still hanging in the air when Daniel and Martha came into the clearing, the young dog they had brought home with them racing ahead. Just behind them came Birdie and Lorena.

“They brought Lorena,” Elizabeth said. “We should have thought to invite her.”

At the sound of voices raised in greeting the children looked up from the wood they were stacking. Nicholas shot across the clearing, strong legs pumping, to throw himself into Lorena’s arms with such joy that it made Elizabeth’s throat clench.

Lorena bent her head down to listen as the boy talked, pointing to the tables, the other children, the firewood, the sky overhead. She listened as any mother would listen, with pride and joy.

“She raised him,” Lily said. “She’s like his—” she broke off, because Callie had come into their circle.

“She might have raised him,” Callie said calmly. “But she’s not his mother. She’s not any blood kin to him at all.”

All the frantic activity came to a stop when they sat down to eat. Even Lily was allowed to sit up at the table, but Curiosity kept an eye on her.

There was a leg of lamb stuffed with herbs, another of veal, and a ham, along with flour and cornbread, and the last of the squash, potatoes, and carrots from the root cellar. The Bonners liked their food, but the talk carried on, multiple conversations at once that ebbed and flowed together and then parted.

With her plate untouched before her, Elizabeth took it all in. Most of it she had heard hundreds of times before, old jokes and gentle teasing, comments about the veal, questions about the chutney, when the first new greens might be ready for picking, and was Luke planning on hoarding the whole plate of Annie’s special cornbread or might he pass it down?

It was no small feat to feed so many, but it was worth it. These Sunday dinners stayed with her through the short winter days.

Nathaniel raised his head and looked at her. Reading her thoughts, again. Under the table he squeezed her hand.

“We’ve done all right for ourselves, Boots.”

Then he leaned over and neat as a kingfisher Nathaniel hooked a piece of lamb from Lily’s plate. She slapped his wrist, laughing and then held up her fork and waved it. “Do not,” she said with a halfhearted scowl, “do not make me use this.”

From the children’s table came cries of encouragement, but Nathaniel held up his hands in surrender.

Callie got up to help clear the tables, and sat down again when Curiosity gave her a pointed look. “Little girl, walk with me, will you? My Dolly and her Joshua coming by this afternoon and I got to get back home.”

For a moment Elizabeth watched Callie walking alongside Curiosity, head bent down to hear what the old woman had to say.

Lorena cleared her throat. She said, “Thank you kindly for dinner, but I should get back now.”

Elizabeth turned to her in surprise. “I thought you might stay the afternoon. I hoped you would.”

She looked around herself and saw that for the moment they were alone. Lily had been spirited away in Simon’s arms, Nathaniel was off with the little people, and Jennet and Hannah and the others were clearing the table to set out sweets.

Lorena had a calm smile with nothing of artifice in it. “I don’t think Miss Callie would like that idea,” she said.

It was true, and Elizabeth hardly knew what to say. To explain Callie’s behavior would require a long conversation and the breaking of more than one confidence. She could not take those things upon herself, no matter how sound the cause seemed.

Instead she said, “He is a fine boy, Lorena. You have done an admirable job with him.”

Lorena studied her folded hands, because, Elizabeth realized, she was in a similar situation. There were things she might explain, but not without breaking confidences.

Finally she said, “The most important thing to me is that Nicholas is happy and busy and folks don’t take advantage.”

“There we agree,” Elizabeth said. “And I can promise you I will do everything in my power to see to his welfare. You may not know that I had a brother, and that Ethan is his only child. I know that Ethan will never let the boy come to harm of any kind.”

“Sometimes,” Lorena said, “sometimes the best intentions do the most harm. Don’t you think?” She stood. “Please, will you tell your husband I said good-bye, and thank you?”

“Of course,” Elizabeth said. And then, quickly: “There’s really no need for you to sit alone on a Sunday afternoon. I wish you would stay.”

Lorena smiled. “But I won’t be alone,” she said. “I’m going to go walking with Levi, and then we’re both invited to take tea with Daisy and her family.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth said, trying not to show her surprise. “That sounds lovely. I’ll wish you a good afternoon, then. Will you come again?”

Lorena inclined her head. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

Callie came back from taking Curiosity home and found a spot alone under the big oak on the opposite side of the clearing. It was a good spot if she wanted to watch the game that was rushing back and forth, and it was even better if she needed to be left alone with her thoughts.

She had feared the worst when Curiosity dragged her off, but then the talk had been easy enough. Mostly about Nicholas, what kind of boy he was, how he dealt with disappointment and sadness and the loss of his friend. It was clear that Curiosity liked the boy, and that pleased Callie, though she couldn’t have said why.

What pleased her less was the way everybody was watching her. As if she couldn’t be trusted to look after a nine-year-old boy. As if she were a child playing house, and unaware of the challenges ahead.

But they would see, soon enough, that she could take care of a household, a husband, and a child. She intended to make sure every one of them realized how wrong they had been about her.

Although Elizabeth had a strong urge to walk over and sit with Callie, she understood it would be a mistake. Callie did not like to be seen as weak and she would not thank Elizabeth for her interference, no matter how well meant. Instead Elizabeth went into the house, where the women were gathered in the kitchen. Voices and laughter came to her in the hall and she hesitated a moment before going in.

Hannah was nursing her Simon with her feet propped up on a stool. She sat beside an open window that provided a view of the children and
the bagattaway game. The sun fell over her hair and made her skin glow gold and copper. It stroked her breast and the child’s cheek, so that his lashes threw shadows as he suckled contentedly. It was a moment so clear that Elizabeth thought it would stay with her forever.

“Come sit,” Hannah said.

“I’ve done enough sitting,” Elizabeth said.

“Well, there’s no room for another pair of hands over here,” Jennet said from the business end of the kitchen. “So you might as well keep Hannah company.”

Elizabeth could have argued that Jennet was the one who should be off her feet, but she didn’t want to disturb the atmosphere in the kitchen any more than she had already. She sat.

Susanna brought her a cup of tea. “Peppermint,” she said. “With a little honey.”

“I wish you would come visit with us more often,” Elizabeth said. She caught Annie’s eye. “All of you.”

“We’ve been in the cornfield every day,” Annie said. There was something of pride in her tone; she knew what she owed to her family, and the work came easy to hand. It occurred to Elizabeth, and not for the first time, that young women were as competitive as men, but in ways men were not likely to see or comprehend.