“Is that why you killed Lily?” he asked without taking his eyes from the road. “Because you were jealous of her home?”
His words hit her like a face full of cold water. “I didn’t kill your wife, Mr. Daniels, and I’ve never seen your home. You will remember that it was at the house of your neighbor, Ruth Somers, that your wife went to her reward.”
Josh jerked the reins so abruptly that the team shied in confusion. “Death was never meant to be a reward to my wife. She was filled with life and vivacity.”
“Apparently everyone didn’t see her in quite the same light,” Meagan commented, positive that her words would be lost in Josh’s efforts to control the panicked horses.
Josh managed to quiet the animals. Then he turned to Meagan. “If we are to keep from leaping at each other’s throats, Miss Reilly, I suggest we keep our opinions regarding my wife’s death to ourselves. I believe you are responsible for her death, either deliberately or by accident.”
“And I believe you are a bigger fool than you look to be,” Meagan fired back.
“If I turn you back to the judge you will hang,” he threatened, though he knew the words to be beneath him.
“You need someone to work your land and tend your house and care for your daughter,” Meagan reminded him. “There are no single women within a hundred miles of here, and a man would want a full share for the work you’ll get from me for nothing. I don’t think you can afford to send me away.”
Josh’s jaw hardened, along with his heart. The girl was too damned smart for her own good. He did need help, and the presence of a woman who could cook and clean, as well as tend the livestock, would be a tremendous asset. “Very well, then,” he grumbled. “You will stay as long as you put in a fair day’s work. I don’t expect you to do any more than I do.”
“That sounds just,” she agreed.
“I am up an hour before dawn. You will be ready to help with the morning chores.”
Josh Daniels continued talking, but Meagan didn’t respond to his words. Her mind had traveled back in time to the days of her childhood. Life in the Indian village had been relaxed and carefree. As the only white child, she was looked upon as somewhat of a curiosity. The Indian children enjoyed teaching her their games and skills. Her father, a teacher, was a respected man in the tribe and his choice of taking one of their women as his wife was accepted with favour.
Then smallpox had all but wiped the tribe from the face of the earth. Even Meagan’s stepmother had died, but Meagan, her father and half brother were not touched by the sickness. The Indians—what few there were left—began to look upon them askance. Why had the white man and his children been spared?
The day the old chief died, James Reilly took his children and left the village. His wife and his credibility had gone before him, and it was prudent to move on. But while the Indians had been willing to accept and share their lives with the little white child, the white people were not willing to share their lives, or, for that matter, their towns, with a half-breed Indian boy and his family. And they certainly did not want the boy’s father teaching their children.
When Meagan was old enough she hired out, taking care of children and helping the women with their spring and fall housecleaning. After her father’s death Meagan’s brother decided to leave the world of the white man and return to his mother’s tribe. Having been educated by her father, Meagan was qualified to supply an education to the children of a household as well as carry her share of the work.
She had come to Banebridge hoping to obtain a permanent position teaching children. Her search had taken her into the wilderness where Ruth Somers had offered employment. During Meagan’s first week, Lily Daniels had pitched down the Somerses’ stairs. Meagan had run from the kitchen to help and was bending over the unfortunate woman when Ruth began screaming for her husband and accused Meagan of murder.
And now Meagan was going to a place that would be her home and her prison.
Meagan had always thought that someday she would have a man and a home of her own. Now that dream would never come to pass. Slaves didn’t have homes. Indentured servants weren’t allowed the freedom of choosing a husband. Her life was over before it had a chance to begin.
She closed her eyes and tried to squeeze out one more prayer for salvation, aware that the prayers with which she had barraged heaven over the past weeks had apparently fallen on deaf ears. Surely the Lord hadn’t received her messages, for he hadn’t taken the time to answer.
The horses, tired at the end of the day, slowed to little more than a walk as they pulled the heavily laden wagon up a steep hill.
Meagan wouldn’t have tried to jump from the wagon as they clipped along the road coming out of town, but now she might—if she could jump clear and somehow make her way through the woods to the Indian village where Reilly, her half brother, had gone.
As the horses crested the hill, Meagan threw herself from the wagon and ran for the woods. The air burned like fire in her lungs as she raced through the trees and across the streams.
Josh crashed through the brush behind her. Closer, ever closer, as Meagan’s breathing became increasingly shallow and the pain in her side caused her to favor her right leg.
Meagan was younger than her pursuer. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be able to outrun him. But his persistence defeated her, and in the end she looked back to see him less than ten feet behind. Then, she missed her footing and plunged down an embankment into the icy water below.
She could hear his ragged breathing even before he pulled her from the stream.
“What in the hell possessed you to do such a damn fool thing?” he asked as he set her on her feet.
She brushed a muddy hand across her face and tried to fight back the tears.
“If you were going to run away, why didn’t you run when you were closer to a settlement? There’s nothing out here. There’s no place to run. You wouldn’t last the week. If the Indians didn’t get you, the animals would.” He gave her a little push and marched stoically along beside her, his hand grasping the thick rope of hair that had fallen down her back. “I thought I was doin’ you a favor by keeping you from hanging. Are you crazy or something?”
He grumbled with each step he took and became more verbose as his breath returned right along with his anger.
But his fury was no match for hers. She was angry with him, angry with herself and angry at the world in general.
“No, Mr. Daniels, I’m not crazy. No more than you. I just don’t want to spend the rest of my life working as your slave.”
Josh stopped and turned the girl toward him. She was a sorry-looking sight, with her dripping clothes, muddy face and red-rimmed eyes.
“If you’ll remember, Miss Reilly, I didn’t ask for your indenture. And, I guess if it were me, I would have done the same thing. But I’m a man, and at least I would have had a chance of survival in the wilderness. You don’t! If I thought you did, I just might let you go and save us both a lot of grief.” He sighed as he realized she was shivering noticeably. “As it is, if I don’t get you warmed up, and quick, neither of us will have to worry about you ever being an indentured servant because you won’t live long enough for me to get you home.”
Again he nudged her forward. “Now get a move on. We’ll camp in the clearing near the wagon.”
Meagan did as she was told. She knew she had been foolish to try to run away, but even her senseless act did not affect her as much as did the words Josh had spoken in trying to quiet her as they walked back.
What sort of man was this who