Chapter Thirteen
She smoothed out the blankets she had put on the floor of the wagon between her two chests. It was not a proper bed but it would serve well enough. They would not be traveling for too long, she hoped. Matthew’s fever had returned in force and she spent a great deal of time washing him down, desperately trying to erase the heat in him.
As she scrambled out of the wagon she watched as James and Dan carried Matthew out of the infirmary and set him down on the rough bed she had made. The moment they were out of the way she scrambled back into the wagon and covered him over with another blanket. She worried about taking him on a journey in such a condition, but soon the town would be unprotected and she could not make herself believe it would be safe for him. As she climbed onto the driver’s bench she promised herself she would drive as carefully as she could while still moving along at a reasonably fast pace.
Looking at the Beaton house as the wagon rolled by it slowly, she worried about all the ones inside it as well. Maude and Rose stood at the windows and waved, and she waved back. They were smiling even as they wiped away tears, and Abigail decided that was a picture she would hold fast to. She did wish she could take them all but it was not her property they were traveling to. Then James signaled to her to pick up a little speed and Abigail did so. George was an excellent cart horse and she felt confident he would get them where they needed to go. She was just not sure he would get them there very fast.
As the wagon rolled out of town she glanced at Boyd who sat on the seat beside her. The doctor had told her he was beginning to think the young man was afraid to try and move his arm. Whether Boyd was afraid it would prove to be permanently weakened or he just did not wish to heal enough to be thrust back into the fighting, the doctor could not be certain. Abigail doubted even Boyd knew what he was doing and she began to wonder how one fixed such a problem if the doctor was right.
Then despite her best effort to think of something else, anything else, she thought of Noah. She could see him as clearly as if he was standing right in front of her, his puppy in his arms and his eyes shiny with tears. He had watched as she had packed her things and even as she had readied the baby for travel. Even his puppy had stared at her with sad, accusatory eyes. She had done her best to explain to him that she could not take him with her, that there could be a danger in the journey, that she had to settle somewhere first, and that she would come for him as quickly as she could, but he had just walked away. Having seen the thoughtful look that came over his face, the moment he left the room she had grabbed her things and hurried down to the evening meal. She could not shake the feeling, however, that Noah thought her the cruelest woman in the world. Abigail did not know how or when, but she would make it up to him.
“You are looking very sad,” said Boyd. “Going to miss the other women?”
“Of course, but I was actually thinking of Noah. I don’t think he believed me when I tried to tell him I would come back for him especially since I could not tell him exactly when I would do that.”
“Ah, well, he is only five. You can’t give a child some vague time in the future. He wants a day and a time if only so he can keep asking if it is here yet.”
Abigail laughed but stopped quickly and frowned. “You are right, but I couldn’t do that because I had no date or time to give him. It didn’t help that I took the baby anyway. That probably made it seem as if I was lying.”
“Not if you haven’t lied to him before. Young children have to learn to mistrust a person, have a lot of promises broken before they understand not to trust a certain person. I’d wager you haven’t done anything to make him mistrust you. You gave him a puppy.”
“I did. I didn’t tell him I was going to because, well, because puppies can too easily die on you. He is going to be a small dog.”
“Probably not bad for a small boy. He’ll be able to control it.” He wrinkled his nose. “I think young Jeremiah—”
“Stinks.”
Abigail looked back to find Matthew awake and frowning toward the small crate they had made into a bed for Jeremiah. “I’ll pull up in a minute and take care of that.”
James rode up on her side. “Pull into those bushes just up ahead. They will hide the wagon and George. I think something is coming.”
She nodded and headed for the bushes. As soon as she got the cart tucked behind, she unhitched George. Gently she then urged him down on the grass. It was something her father had taught the beast because there was no hiding a huge horse like George. Once he was settled and idly chewing on the grass, she fetched Jeremiah and the bag with his things.
Sitting on the grass, she flipped his blanket over it and then proceeded to clean up the child. She used one of the several buckets of water she had brought to clean up his soiled cloth and set it aside before putting a fresh one on him. Fetching a bottle of goat’s milk from another bucket she proceeded to feed the baby, as much to keep him quiet as because it was about that time. She noticed that the goat she had finally decided to take with them had walked out from under the wagon and was feasting on a bush. Once the child was done she hastily rubbed his back to get the air out while trying to keep his mouth against her shoulder so, if he burped, the sound would be muffled.
Settling the baby back in his bed, she tended to Matthew’s wounds as she struggled to keep herself below the sides of the wagon bed. Nothing had appeared yet, but James was keeping a very close watch on the road, his rifle at the ready. Even Boyd was watching, holding a pistol in his good hand.
“James has a knack. My mother would call it the sight. If he said something was coming, it is,” said Matthew.
“A good skill if you are going into the army, I suppose,” she whispered back then tensed as she heard hoof beats.
“It has certainly served us well.”
She watched as the men she had heard rode into view. There were eight of them and they rode along silently. The way they kept such a close watch all around them made her nervous, but they did not appear to notice the wagon and George was behaving. She glanced down at the horse and realized he had decided to have a nice nap.
She then glanced toward the goat and tensed. It was too small to be seen but the bush it was chomping on was moving a lot and might be visible. She crept to the back edge of the wagon and grabbed the animal’s tether then paused. If she pulled the animal away there was sure to be some loud protest.
Before she could decide if she would take that chance, it proved unnecessary. It was not the stubborn goat who alerted the men to where they were but the baby. Jeremiah suddenly let out a loud wail, demanding attention. He got it. All eight men on the road turned their way and raised their weapons. She suspected the only thing holding them back from shooting was the fact that it was a baby’s cry.
James backed up and disappeared into the trees. As he passed her, he whispered he would be watching but for her to act like a distraught mother. Boyd faded away with him. Abigail covered Matthew with everything she could and set the crate Jeremiah was in on his chest, praying it would be disguise enough. Then she picked up the baby and rubbed at his back.
Cautiously two men came over to her. Abigail was terrified and found that made her mad. It was a curious reaction to fear but she held to it, needing the burst of strength it gave her. The goat moved to chew on the tall one’s coat and he aimed his gun at it.
“Don’t you dare shoot my child’s source of food,” she snapped.
“He’s eating my damn coat!”
“You can just push him aside. He isn’t even a big goat.”
“What the hell are you doing out here?” asked the short stout one she felt sure was an officer.
“There is no need to be profane, sir,” she said, trying to sound like Mrs. Beaton at her haughtiest. “I have stopped to feed my babe. I just changed him.”
“Where are you going?” he asked, speaking slowly as if she was particularly stupid, and she frowned.
“I am going away from here, which obviously is a place filled with fools with guns,” she said in the same tone of voice, and thought she may have been too sassy because he scowled at her and his knuckles whitened with the grip he had on his gun.
“Well, don’t stay here for long. Get yourself someplace safe.” He headed back to the road, and after shooting her a glare the other two men followed him.
Abigail did not breathe a sigh of relief until the men kicked their mounts into a trot and disappeared down the road. She then looked back and saw James and Boyd come out of the trees. Still clutching Jeremiah, she pulled away the things she had piled on top of Matthew. She met his dark frown with a shrug and a smile.
“Thought you were going to get yourself shot there for a moment,” said James.
“So did I,” she said, and patted her chest over her rapidly beating heart.
“Then why weren’t you a bit more meek and conciliatory?”
“Because they didn’t shoot me the minute they saw me. I assumed they were the sort that had a problem shooting a woman and child.”
“That was a gamble,” muttered Matthew.
“Not a big one,” said James as he helped Boyd get back into the seat. “When they aren’t in the middle of a fight, the regular soldiers don’t much try to kill women and kids.” He bent down and eased George back up on his feet before leading him to the traces to put him back in harness. “That was a clever thing to get him to do.”
“My da taught him,” Abigail said, feeling an echo of pain. “He is such a big fellow, it is the only way to hide him if you have to.” She put the baby back into his bed, patted George’s neck as she passed him, and climbed back up in the seat to take the reins.
“Here’s hoping those are the only ones we run into,” James said as he mounted and nudged his horse into motion.
Abigail prayed his hope proved sound as she got the wagon back on the road and started to follow James. Soon she was going along smoothly enough that he dropped back behind them and took up watch again. Boyd watched the ground as she drove.
“What are you looking for?” she asked him.
“Just watching to see if they turn off anywhere along here.”
“I hope they do, although I have no idea where they would turn off to. Do we turn off anywhere?”
“Not for quite a ways.”
“Let me know when the turn is near.”
“Why?”
“Because George hates turning off a road and requires a little coaxing.” She heard Matthew laugh and wished she could reach back and smack him. “He’ll walk this road pulling us for as long as we want, but a turn”—she shook her head—“no. He gets a bit stubborn.”
“Your horse is an odd stick, Abbie,” said Matthew.
“He has character.”
“Ah, of course. The baby is humming. Badly.”
She listened for a moment and smiled. “He’ll go to sleep soon. I think he does that to comfort himself.”
“Wish he would learn a real tune.”
Abigail laughed. “Perhaps you could sing one until he learns it.”
“I just might if he keeps this up for too long.”
Matthew looked at the baby. He lay on his back with his fingers in his mouth droning away. His eyes were more shut than open and Matthew was certain he was fighting to keep them open as little as he did. He did not know that much about babies except that they could wake the dead with their cries, but he did think this one was particularly well behaved. Then again, it had been the baby who had let the riders know where they were. He was not a man who paid much attention to babies, either, but he did think this one was a fairly handsome little man.
And all that was probably a good thing as the child was now Abigail’s. She may not have birthed him but her promise to a dying woman had created the bond. If he did finally get the courage or need up to ask her to stay with him, he would have to accept this child. And Noah, he thought and shook his head. He liked the little boy but he was going to have to be sure he was ready to be a father if he decided he wanted to be her only lover. Abigail would not give either up and he was sure of that, even though she had never spoken of it.
Since he had nothing better to do than think about things, he decided he needed to give the matter of him and Abigail some serious hard thought. He would not be just taking on a woman if he kept her; he would be taking on a small family. It was a serious business and he had to be sure he felt enough depth of emotion to do it right.
Emotions, he decided, were messy and confusing but he needed to stop dithering around. Abigail would not remain his lover for long. What he had to think about was whether that pang he got whenever he thought about that stemmed from a selfish disappointment over a loss of something pleasurable or something far deeper.
* * *
The sun was beginning its descent when James rode ahead for a while. He came back and told her they would pull off for the night just up ahead. Her shoulders ached and she was more than ready to stop driving the wagon. The moment they reached the place he had pointed out, she began to coax George into going there. She liked the fact that James had chosen a very nice grassy spot with some trees to shade it.
“I’ll have a check for snakes,” Boyd said as he got down.
“You didn’t have to tell me,” Abigail grumbled as she also got down and moved to unhitch George.
“What?”
“Well, I had not given a thought to snakes until you spoke up and stuck it in my head.”
“Ah, I see.” Boyd suddenly grinned. “I’ll just have a check for bunnies.”
Even as she thought it would be wrong to strike a wounded man, Abigail found herself appreciating his smile. He really was a handsome young man. She idly wondered if he was one Anne had walked out with.
“Did you ever walk out with Anne?” she asked suddenly and his bright red flush told her the answer was yes, but she decided she would not tease him about it because James was already doing a good job of that.
“That was mean, Abbie,” said Matthew as he raised himself up on his arms and waited for someone to help him sit up properly.
“So was mentioning snakes.”
“Only a fool doesn’t check for them in these hills.”
“Well, he could be a quiet, conscientious fellow.”
Looking at George as she looped his reins around a tree branch, Matthew shook his head. “That is a damn big horse.”
“I know. He is magnificent and he knows it.” She rubbed the animal’s nose before going to the wagon to check Matthew for any sign of fever.
“It appears to have passed,” he said when she finally helped him sit up and piled a bunch of blankets at his back. “Can you send James to me?”
“Yes, but where did he go?” she asked as she looked around.
“He always walks a circle around any place we camp in. He should be coming in behind you before long.”
Abigail turned to watch for some sign of the man. When he ambled back through the trees, she hurried over to him. “See any trouble?”
“Nope. No one’s been in this area for some time, I’d guess.”
“Good. Matthew would like to speak with you.”
James went to Matthew and a moment later she saw him helping Matthew out of the wagon. She started over to ask what they thought they were doing when it occurred to her that Matthew might be in desperate need of a moment of privacy. The moment they came back she slipped away for one of her own. By the time she returned, all the men were seated on the ground and James was attempting to get a small fire burning. Matthew leaned against a tree looking as if the short walk had sucked all the energy out of him, but he did not look feverish so she said nothing, just sat down near him on a rough blanket spread on the ground.
“Just how much farther do we have to go?” she asked Matthew.
“If we have no trouble we should be there by the end of the day tomorrow,” he answered, and she could hear a hint of eagerness in his tired voice.
“So close to where you were fighting. No wonder the major sent you home.”
“That, and the fact that very soon I would have to sign papers to join up again. He didn’t see the sense in that. The man is sick to death of this business and gives no one any argument if they are badly wounded or near time to leave anyway. The conscripts are not so lucky. Major doesn’t like conscripts. Doesn’t like how men who didn’t want to fight are shoved into the war.”
“How ever did he become an officer with such ideas?”
“Went to the right school. I hope he makes it out of this mess in one piece.”
“So do I, for Maude’s sake if nothing else.”
He laughed. “Did notice her hanging around his office a lot.”
“Yes, she was taken with him. Said he had seasoning.” She smiled faintly.
For a while they talked about the soldiers and the women they had mixed with. Abigail realized she had not been wrong about Anne. The woman had walked out with a lot of soldiers. The way Matthew occasionally smiled faintly when he mentioned her told Abigail she had been right to think Anne fit with Maude’s teasing reference to the word walking when meaning something completely different. She had to wonder if Mrs. Beaton was aware of it.
Abigail finally got up to see what she might make for a meal for them all. She went to the basket Mrs. Beaton had pressed her to take and smiled when she opened it. It was hard to know if it was good manners or friendship that had caused the woman to pack such a vast amount of food, but Abigail did not care. A moment later she had James at her side looking it all over.
“Unless you had a wish to make us a meal, I can do just fine with this. She has packed a lot of things that work well for camp food. Maybe her husband was a soldier once.”
“Feel free,” she said, more than willing to hand over the chore as her arms and shoulders still ached.
She returned to Matthew’s side and quietly asked, “James can cook?”
“Aye. He is skilled at meals in a pot over a campfire.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, leaned back against the tree, and closed her eyes. “Good. Driving the wagon was more than enough work for me today.”
“Even with a great cart horse like George?”
“Even then.”
He just smiled and watched James. “Is the baby still sleeping?”
“He is, and who knows how long he will continue?” She listened, heard gurgling, and sighed. “Not long, I guess.”
A moment later a soft whine sounded and she got up to go to the wagon. Picking up the baby, she grabbed a new changing cloth and, laying him down on the wagon bed, quickly changed him into a dry one. Tossing the wet cloth into an empty bucket, she wished she knew where some water was. She got a bottle, saw that she would have to milk the goat, and went to sit down near Matthew again to feed the baby.
“He has lost that newly born look,” he said and idly rubbed the baby’s foot.
“Babies this young change every week. It is actually quite fascinating to watch. Well, if you are not the only caretaker. I suspect that can leave one too tired to get excited over little changes. Which is a bit of a shame.”
“Aye, it is. He is a good-looking little fellow, but then his mother and father were fair to look at.”
“I don’t see either of them in him yet. Perhaps as he grows something will show.” She sniffed the air. “Whatever James is doing it certainly smells good.”
“Told you. We had to shoo off the other fellows in camp when he cooked. They would all come wandering in looking to help themselves to some.”
She grinned. “And you proved to be very unwelcoming, I suspect.”
“Verra. Then they tried to get James assigned to their group. Major didn’t oblige.” He glanced at Boyd. “Do ye think Boyd will ever get the use of that arm back?”
“No idea. The doctor told me he can find nothing truly wrong with it but there are a lot of reasons for Boyd to not want to test that.”
“I was wondering about that. It will probably be a surprise to him one day when he just uses it without thinking.”
“That was exactly what I thought but can’t think of anything that would work to tempt it.”
James stepped over to hand them each a plate. Abbie hastily set the baby down on the blanket next to her. It was a thick stew of beef and some vegetables and Abigail had to admit it was surprisingly tasty. By the time she finished, she was full and feeling increasingly sleepy. It had been a very long day. She glanced at the baby, saw he was sound asleep, and wondered if the two of them should curl up in the wagon. She hoped the night did not grow too cold.
Picking up the baby, she stood up and walked back to the wagon. To her surprise, James brought Matthew back and settled him on his bed. As he walked away, she climbed into the back and put the baby’s crate at the very head of the bed. Once she had swaddled the child in a warm blanket and put him in the bed, she placed another small blanket over him and then lay down on the other half of the bed Matthew had.
“Going to sleep here with me, are ye?”
“I am not sleeping on the hard ground if I don’t have to.”
Good.” He slid his arm around her and tugged her close, ignoring the twinge it caused his healing wound. “This will be much warmer.”
“Careful of your wounds.”
“They are healing much better than I thought they would. Family has always been fast healers if we get the wound dressed fast.”
“That is convenient.” She covered her mouth as another yawn tore through her. “Sorry.”
“Why? Ye are obviously tired out. Go to sleep, Abbie. I am sure the wee lad will be waking ye up soon enough.”
“He will,” she murmured as she closed her eyes. “I am hoping he is quick to grow out of that.”
Matthew pulled the blanket up until it covered them both and he watched her fall asleep. She cuddled closer with a sleepy sigh. He had to admit he was deeply curious about how she would be to sleep with. He did not mind the snuggling at all.
“Shall I move her?” asked James, and Matthew could hear the laughter in his voice.
“Nay, thank ye, but I believe I can stand it.” He glanced back at James who had rested his arms on the side of the wagon. “Dinnae ye have anything to do?”
“Did it. How are your wounds? It looked like you were moving with more ease today. Still careful, but not wincing with each movement.”
“They do pinch from time to time. Once the stitches can come out that will end.”
“Are you gonna marry the girl or not?”
“I’m thinking on it.”
“You do know you can overthink things.”
“I ken it. I am just thinking on the many things that matter when a mon makes such a move. Like whether she snores or kicks like a mule in bed.” He grinned when James laughed.
“It really doesn’t need so much planning, you know.”
“It needs some so one can be sure.”
“Sure of what?”
“That when ye ask she willnae say nay.”
James winced. “True. There is always that to consider. Want my opinion?”
“If I say nay, ye will still give it to me, willnae ye?”
“I will. I think you are worrying about something that will never happen.”
“Ye cannae ken what her feelings are.”
“Nope, but I can know she is not a woman who goes out walking with a man if she is not willing to marry him.”
“What if willing is not all I am looking for.”
“Figured that and don’t think it is all you’d get.” James straightened up. “Rest well, my friend. We will get to your home on the morrow.”
Matthew thought about that as he watched James go and settle down on his rough bed near the fire and begin talking softly with Boyd. It had not actually been that long since he had been home, but too long for him. He had begun to pine for his home months ago. It almost made him laugh because he had spent most of the time fighting in these hills but still ached for home.
He knew what it was he ached for. He wanted his brothers. It embarrassed him in a small way since he was a grown man, but he had never actually spent any time away from his brothers and, annoying though they could be, he heartily missed them. There were too many times he would see or do or think of something and wish one of his brothers was there to share it with. He had always understood that they were a close family, but he had never realized just how close. He wondered if any of them suffered or had done in the same way but could not think of a time when any of them had been away for as long as he had.
Then he wondered what they would think of Abigail. The very fact that he wondered made him believe, yet again, that he had to stop being a coward and ask the question before she decided she was wasting her time and walked away. It made him think though, because he would be bringing her into the family, just as Iain had brought in Emily. He felt suddenly sure that Abigail would fold in neatly and calmly. The baby would disappear into the growing number of children around the place. As would Noah, he thought, knowing she would get the boy, and grinned as he nuzzled her hair and curled his body around hers.