Twin Willows: A Novel (7 page)

W
ACCACHALLA

Willow moved almost soundlessly in the forest beyond her village, searching for the plants whose tender leaves might tempt her mother’s appetite. Eight moons had waxed and waned since Bear’s Daughter’s interview with Black Snake about Willow’s future, and for most of that time, Bear’s Daughter had been ill. First she took a fever and for many days lay in a stupor from which Sits-in-Shadow’s best medicine and loudest chants had failed to rouse her. When she came to herself, she was so weakened that Willow feared her mother might never walk again. Slowly, with Willow’s good nursing and the generosity of Black Snake’s wife in providing food for them, Bear’s Daughter began to get better. As the weather warmed, Willow helped her mother to sit outside their lodge on clear days in the hope that the powers of the sun would restore her mother’s strength. But Bear’s Daughter had little appetite, and her uncharacteristically gaunt appearance frightened Willow.

If I can get my mother to enjoy food again, all will be well with her
, Willow thought.

She left the hunter’s trail and pressed on toward a stream that she knew to be lined with all manner of plants and herbs. She lifted her head to the newly green canopy overhead and breathed in the rich scents of a woodland spring. She had always enjoyed being among the trees, with only her thoughts for company. Lately that pleasure that had been denied to her.

She had asked the Great Spirit to make her mother well, and now it seemed that would come to pass. Willow realized that was not all she had to be grateful for, either. Black Snake had said nothing to her about taking a husband. The warriors, including Otter, had kept their distance from the lodge, lest the evil spirits that caused Bear’s Daughter’s sickness should enter their bodies, as well.

“It is good,” Willow murmured aloud.

“I did not think you saw me, Littlewillow.”

Startled, Willow looked toward the sound and saw Otter emerge from the cane around the creek. She had not seen him for some time, but his absence had done nothing to endear him to her. Otter was sturdily built, about her height, with thin lips in an almost-round face. A battle scar ran along his jaw from chin to ear, pale against his bronze skin, except when he filled it with war paint.
An imposing man
, Willow thought. Not one she would want to be her enemy—but certainly not one she wanted to wed.

“I saw no one,” Willow said.

“You talk to yourself? Maybe what is said about you is true.”

Willow didn’t have to ask Otter what he meant. She knew the things many villagers said about her, things that Bear’s Daughter had told her not to mind.

“Were they able, they would look like you, my daughter,” her mother said to her often.

“If I could, I would look like them,” Willow replied, but her mother scolded her so for saying it that she never again voiced the words.

“It does not matter,” Willow finally said to Otter. She resumed walking, and he fell in step beside her.

“The old woman still lives. They say you have great powers to make her come back from being nearly dead.”

“I have no such powers,” Willow said.

“You are wrong, Littlewillow.” Otter stopped and seized Willow’s arm.

“You have much power here.” He touched his chest with his free hand.

“My name is Willow,” she said. “Let me go.” She did not raise her voice, but something in her eyes made Otter drop her arm and move away.

“Yes, you are no longer a child. It is time you take a husband. Everyone else might be afraid of you, but Otter is not.”

Willow looked at him blankly, then modestly lowered her head. “My mother has not recovered. I must stay with her.”

Otter’s thin-lipped smile made him look strangely sinister. “For now, it is so. But my time will come.”

In one quick movement, Otter grabbed both Willow’s hands and pulled her toward him. His lips stifled the protest on hers as he kissed her roughly, then let her go so abruptly, she almost fell.

“You’ll see,” he said. “Black Snake wants you to take a husband. I want a woman to lie with and give me sons. This thing will be done.”

When he walked away, Willow wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and wished that Otter shared the others’ fear of her. Their encounter proved what she had long suspected—that Otter would not use her well. Willow feared what he might do the next time they met. She most certainly would not walk alone in the woods again.

And I will never marry Otter
, she vowed.

P
HILADELPHIA

Despite her high hopes, Anna had no word from Stuart as her time remaining at Miss Martin’s dwindled to a fortnight, and then a week. All too soon, the day came for Miss Martin to hang the new tapestry and say farewell to her six graduates.

Anna had no choice but to go to the farm where Helen, her cousin Henry’s wife, now ran the household, and await her father’s instructions.

Her roommate, knowing that the Barfield farm was located near Bedford, some distance west of Felicia’s home in Lancaster, quickly invited Anna to travel that far with her.

“I really thought I’d feel happier to be leaving this place,” Felicia said to Anna on the morning they took their last breakfast together at the scarred table. The Commencement ceremonies were scheduled for mid-afternoon, after which the town girls would go home with their parents. The others would depart the next morning.

“Good-byes are always hard,” Anna said through the growing lump in her throat.

Anna knew that in all probability, she and Felicia would never meet again. A cousin of Felicia’s who lived in York had told her parents that he wanted to marry her, and the match had all but been made only a few weeks ago, before anyone had bothered to mention it to Felicia.

The arrangement shocked Anna. Privately she thought she would willingly die a spinster before she would agree to spend even a small part of the rest of her life with any of the cousins with whom she had been reared.

After breakfast the girls went upstairs to the room they had shared for the past three years, to begin packing their belongings.

They worked silently for a time, each absorbed in her own thoughts. Finally Felicia turned to her friend and sighed.

“I wish you could stay in Lancaster until after my wedding,” she said.

“So do I,” Anna said, turning to face her friend. “But your mother will have quite enough people in the house without adding one more.”

Anna knew, however, that wasn’t the only reason she shouldn’t stay there. Felicia’s mother would welcome any of the other young ladies from Miss Martin’s, but not Anna. Not the one who looked different because her father had committed the sin of falling in love with and marrying an Indian.

Stop it!
Anna told herself as self-pity threatened to overwhelm her. Her father had often declared that she shouldn’t care what others thought about her.

But it does matter, and it always will
, Anna admitted to herself, sitting down dejectedly on her bed. If her skin were as white as Felicia’s, Stuart Martin might have been bold enough to court her openly, despite his aunt. Miss Martin would no doubt approve if he’d taken a liking to one of the rich girls . . .

“Are you all right, Anna? You look peculiar.”

Anna managed a wobbly smile. “I suppose I was woolgathering. I was just thinking what a beautiful bride you’ll make.”

“And so will you, someday. You must let me know when you plan to marry—if there’s any way I can come to your wedding, I will.”

Anna laughed. “You may be too old and infirm to travel by then.”

Felicia put down a petticoat she had just folded, and reached for Anna’s hand. “No, I really mean it. I’ll never have another friend like you. I hope that you’ll find a good husband.”

“‘And they married and lived happily ever after,’” Anna quoted. “Don’t you think I could be a happy spinster?”

Felicia pulled the corners of her mouth down in an approximation of their headmistress’s perennial expression. “If Miss Martin is an example of unwedded bliss, then I would say you’d be better off marrying a warty toad than staying single and becoming like her.”

Anna made a face. “Ugh! What a choice!”

“Well, since warty toads often turn into handsome princes, you just might consider it.”

“I will,” said Anna, but the only man she wanted to wed was neither toad nor prince—and since he had not come back for her Commencement, it appeared that he didn’t return her love. Anna knew she ought not waste her time thinking about Stuart Martin.

The sound of chimes interrupted the girls’ conversation.

“Oh, is it the luncheon bell already?” Felicia exclaimed. “This day is passing faster than any I’ve known.”

“I agree,” Anna said. “Isn’t it strange that everything we’ve done all day is for the last time as Miss Martin’s pupils? The last breakfast, the last luncheon—and tonight, the last dinner.”

“And if we don’t hurry, perhaps our last scolding,” Felicia said.

When luncheon ended, Miss Martin formally dismissed the girls and reminded them to be in the hallway promptly at a quarter ’til two o’clock.

“Miss McKnight, stay here. I would have a word with you.”

She knows something she hasn’t told me
, Anna thought as the others filed silently from the room. Felicia smiled encouragingly, while some of the others cast her curious glances as if wondering what kind of trouble the half-breed had gotten herself into this time.

“Your father knew when he left you here that your term would be up today,” Miss Martin began. “Am I correct in assuming that you do not expect him to come for you?”

“Yes, ma’am, I don’t.” Anna replied to the confusing question.

“Then I must ask what you intend to do. You know, of course, that you cannot remain here.”

Anna flushed, but she did not look away. “Yes, ma’am. I plan to travel to Lancaster with Felicia Darby, then go on to my cousins’ home.”

Miss Martin’s expression did not change, but Anna thought she detected a slight note of relief. “That seems a wise course of action. I feared that you might try to stay in Philadelphia.”

“Feared?” Anna repeated the word and raised her eyebrow slightly.

Miss Martin shrugged. “For your own good, of course, Miss McKnight. It is quite unlikely that you could find employment in the city, and I feel obliged to Colonel McKnight to see that you return safely to your family.”

You needn’t worry that I plan to stay here and lay a trap for your nephew. And even though I dread going back to the farm, it’s far better than staying another day under your roof
. Even on her last day, Anna wouldn’t express her thoughts aloud.

The headmistress reached into her waist pocket and handed Anna a square of linen into which some coins had been tied. “This should be adequate to pay your way home.”

“Thank you, Miss Martin. I know that my father will repay you as soon as it is possible.”

Miss Martin’s cheeks reddened briefly. “That won’t be necessary,” she said gruffly. “He left this sum for just such a purpose. You may be excused, Miss McKnight. The hour grows late.”

Yes, it does
, Anna thought. She passed the clock and noted with a trace of sadness that it was already after one. Stuart Martin would already have arrived if he were coming for the ceremonies. Although Anna’s mind had accepted that he wouldn’t be there, her heart still hoped that he might. When she knew without any doubt that he wasn’t coming, her accumulated disappointment combined to bring rare tears to her eyes. Anna did not cry easily or often, but this afternoon as she watched the other girls with their proud parents and admiring beaux, she allowed herself a brief moment of self-pity before she wiped away her tears and squared her shoulders.

I’m not like those other girls, and I don’t even want to be
, Anna told herself as she stood apart at the reception in the parlor following the Commencement ceremony. Now that she was truly on her own with no one to look after her interests, Anna had no time to feel sorry for herself.

So absorbed was she with her thoughts that she didn’t see Cook Nancy hurrying toward her until she had almost reached Anna’s side.

The cook glanced around warily as if to make sure that Miss Martin wasn’t watching. “Miss Anna, this just came for you,” she whispered.

Anna looked at the folded page the cook handed her, too small to be a letter, and felt her mouth go dry. “What is this?” she asked.

“I don’t know, Miss Anna. A messenger boy brought it to the back door.”

“Thank you, Nancy,” Anna managed to say.

Although no one was paying her any heed, she turned away and started up the stairs toward her room before she unfolded the paper.

Anna recognized the handwriting instantly and stopped halfway up the stairs. Her heart raced, then all but stopped, as she read Stuart Martin’s brief message:

Meet me in the carriage house as soon as you can. S. M.

Anna read the note again and wondered if she dared trust her eyes. Stuart had apparently come back to Philadelphia in secret and now waited to see her. After weeks without so much as a note from him, it seemed almost too good to be true, and her heart began to beat rapidly in anticipation.

With all the calm she could muster, Anna walked back down the stairs, past knots of conversing graduates and their families in the parlor, where Stuart had told her he loved her, and into the back hallway, where she and Stuart had shared their first embrace. She had been unable to forget those precious moments, so often reliving the way she had felt in Stuart’s arms. That memory remained fresh as she went out the back door and hastened to Miss Martin’s carriage house.

Anna had just put a hand on the latch of the carriage house’s side door when it suddenly opened, and to her relief, she faced Stuart Martin. He was real, all right, and even more handsome than she remembered. They looked at each other for a moment in silence before Stuart spoke.

“I see you got my message.”

Anna nodded and tried to keep her voice level against the rising tide of her pleasure in seeing him again. “I kept hoping you would come for another visit, if not to Commencement.”

“So did I. Last week I wrote Aunt Matilda that between my own studies and preparing my thick-headed charges for their examinations, I couldn’t leave Princeton. I thought she might share that news with you.”

Of course she wouldn’t tell me anything about you
, Anna thought. Instead, she shook her head. “No, she didn’t, but I am glad to see you now.” Anna clasped her hands together to stop their trembling, but the gesture did nothing to stay the sudden emotion that roughened her voice.

“And I am glad to see you, as well.”

In the dim light that filtered through the dirty panes of the single window, Anna searched Stuart’s eyes for a brief moment as if to gauge the feelings reflected there. Reading the desire in his eyes, she took a step toward him. He opened his arms, and eagerly she entered his embrace. All the longing locked deep inside her flared in Stuart’s fierce hold, and she returned his kiss with all the ardor of his own.

After a long moment Anna snuggled her head into his chest. “I feared I might not see you again,” she whispered.

“You know I couldn’t let my best pupil leave without saying good-bye,” Stuart said against Anna’s hair. His hand stroked lightly along her cheek. “Ah, Anna, my love, you are even more beautiful than I remembered.”

Her heart thudded to a stop. He thought she was beautiful? Her heart resumed beating, with a vengeance. “Oh, Stuart—”

“Shh.” He put his fingers to her lips and kissed her forehead, then her cheeks and chin. Finally he returned his lips to hers in a long, tender kiss, which she returned with growing passion.

He nuzzled her neck, and a delicious thrill coursed through her body and awakened strange new sensations deep in the core of her being. They were even more intense than the feelings she had had that night in the parlor when they had been interrupted. Time seemed to stop now as their lips met again and again and then once more, until Anna’s head swam dizzily. She sagged against him, was grateful for his strong encircling arms.

“Let’s sit down,” Stuart said. Keeping one arm around her waist, he opened the door to Miss Martin’s boxlike cabriolet and helped her climb inside. “No one will see us here.”

I wouldn’t care if they did
. Anna almost said the words, but they weren’t quite true. For Stuart’s sake, Miss Martin mustn’t know that he had come back just to be with Anna.

Stuart closed the carriage’s side curtains, creating a dark, private place, then turned back to take Anna into his arms. She drew a long, shuddering sigh and rested her head on Stuart’s shoulder.

“How did you manage to get away?”

“I said I had pressing business in Philadelphia.” He suited action to his words and pressed her body to his, and Anna shivered in delight. He kissed her once again, at first gently, and then with a rising urgency that she felt herself matching. She had dreamed of the moment when Stuart would once more hold her so close, she could feel his heart beating. Now he was here, and being with him was even more wonderful than she had imagined.

As they embraced, Anna’s body yearned toward him. She couldn’t get close enough to Stuart, couldn’t get enough of his mouth moving on hers, of his hands caressing her face, her neck, then pressing against the swell of her bodice. She moaned with pleasure, enjoying each new sensation. She felt herself sliding sideways on the carriage seat, until finally she and Stuart lay side by side, close together in a way that Anna hadn’t known to be possible. Nothing else mattered but that she was here in this place and at this time with this man she loved, moving together with him toward some new emotional and physical intimacy that she was breathlessly eager to explore.

Suddenly Stuart pulled away from her and sat up. “No, Anna,” he said.

With difficulty, Anna struggled to a sitting position beside him and tried to comprehend what he was telling her. Both were breathing hard, and Anna’s carefully dressed hair had fallen loose. Absently she brushed it from her face.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Stuart touched her face with a tender hand and sighed. “No, my darling, but I was about to.”

“But I—” Anna began; then she realized what he had called her, and repeated it uncertainly. “Darling? No one has ever said that to me before.”

“I am glad of it. But as much as I care for you, I have no right to claim all your love now.”

“Why not, when I am more than ready to give it?” Anna lifted her chin and strained in the dimness to see Stuart’s face, hoping that his expression might belie his words.