Ethan had been listening to the exchange in silence, but now he stepped forward. “The British wouldn’t be allowing settlers to stake out land if they didn’t think it was safe, Mrs. Crawford. Though I grant you, there’s always a risk. Pontiac’s the strongest leader the Indians have had in some time. And he’s unpredictable.”
“They can’t back out now, can they, Reed?” Hugh Trask asked him.
“I don’t see how you’re going to force someone to enter into an expedition like this one,” Ethan answered calmly. “You need to have people who are able and willing.“
Trask looked around the room. “My wife’s got a kid in the oven, but you don’t hear us bellyaching about how tough it’s going to be.”
Everyone except Hannah looked over at Nancy Trask in surprise. “You’re with child, Mrs. Trask?” Randolph asked.
Nancy turned beet red and looked down at the floor.
“Is this wise, Trask?” Randolph asked. “Are you sure you want to take your wife away from civilization at a time like this, away from all medical care?”
Trask shrugged. “I reckon the tyke’ll be born just as well there as here.”
Randolph shook his head and turned back to the Crawfords. “All the more reason we need you folks. Isn’t there anything we can say to change your minds?”
Hannah felt a pang of sympathy for Amos Crawford, who looked as though his life’s dream had just been ripped away from him. But she had had her misgivings about the Crawfords from the beginning, and the haggard circles under Martha Crawford’s eyes attested to a hard-fought decision made over many sleepless nights. She hoped Randolph would not press his friend too hard.
“We’ve decided,” Amos said firmly. “I’m sorry to leave you one family short on such little notice, but I’m afraid our decision is final.”
Ethan looked around at the solemn faces. “Do you want to postpone the trip until we recruit another family?” he asked. “It might mean waiting until next spring.”
Randolph was already shaking his head. “No. We’re all set to go. The Bakers and the Trasks have already sold their places. We’ll just have to make do with the ones who are left.”
“I’m sorry,” Amos said again. Martha gripped his arm more tightly, and he patted her hand. The two boys looked down at their shoes, and Tommy wiped his hand across his nose.
Ethan broke the silence. “If it’s all decided,” he said, giving Hannah a quick wink, “then I say it’s time to eat.”
It was more wrenching than any of them had anticipated to leave the rambling white clapboard house at the end of Stratford Lane with all its memories of Priscilla and happier times. Peggy had clung to her grandmother with heartbreaking sobs. Jacob, whose dreams of conquering the West with his friend Benjie by his side had been abruptly crushed, had been sullen and untalkative. Randolph had spent a few last minutes in the bedroom he had shared with his wife and had emerged with red eyes.
They’d ridden all day mostly in silence—a motley-looking train of horses and mules and one jackass that Randolph had purchased, claiming that he had heard of the animal’s reputation as a strong pack animal. It pulled a small two-wheeled cart that they had decided to bring along against Ethan Reed’s recommendations. Hannah thought the beast looked mean and did her best to stay out of its way.
Their midday rest had been brief, so Ethan had allowed them to stop and make camp early in deference to those who were not used to an entire day on the trail, which was all of them.
Hannah stood looking out at the small river they’d been following and pulled her cloak more securely around her. It was a wool cloak that had belonged to Priscilla. She’d been reluctant to take it, but Randolph had told her that if they were to be pioneers, they couldn’t indulge in foolish sentiment. The cloak was practical and warm and would serve her well on the trail.
The sun had already set on the other side of the river, and the night promised to be chilly. Randolph had explained that it was necessary to leave as soon as possible so that they would have plenty of time to build secure cabins before the next winter, but Hannah was wishing that they’d been able to wait at least until May.
She supposed if she got busy, she’d warm up. There was firewood to gather and food to prepare and tents to pitch. But for just a moment more she wanted to stand and watch the rushing waters—waters that were rushing west. To a wide open land where perhaps no white woman had ever trod. It raised bumps on her skin just to think about it.
“Hannah, are you all right? You’re not too weary from the ride?” Randolph came up beside her. His voice sounded tired.
She turned to smile at him. She was starting to get used to this new, more solicitous side of her employer. “I’ll admit that I’m a bit sore…er…where one might expect after all day on a mule, but other than that I’m fine. It’s all of you I’m worried about.”
Randolph rubbed two fingers along the bridge of his nose. “It’s been a wearying day, I vow. The bairns have held up bravely, but it’s hard…”
“I know,” Hannah said softly, putting her hand on his sleeve. “‘Tis hard to leave behind the memories. I had the same problem leaving England. But soon the children will be involved in their new life—and so will you.”
“And we’ll be so blamed busy we won’t have time for self-pity,” he said with a sad half smile. “It’s too bad about the Crawfords. Jacob was counting on being with Benjamin.”
“Aye. We didn’t need another disappointment.”
Their gazes went over to the camp fire. Ethan was showing Jacob how to tie up a turkey by the neck and hang it over the open fire. “Now take this piece of bark, Jacob,” he told the boy. who seemed to hang on his every word. “Try to catch the juices as they drip off and then pour them back over the bird.”
“What’s that for?” Jacob watched intently as the big man who knelt beside him demonstrated his basting technique.
“It makes the turkey tender and juicy. Your sister and Mistress Hannah are going to be downright pea green with envy when they taste what a bird you’ve cooked.”
Jacob grinned and took the curved piece of bark from Ethan.
Hannah turned back to her employer. “At least it looks like he’s happy for the moment.”
Randolph was watching his son and their guide with a frown. “He’ll burn his hand off if he doesn’t have a care.”
Hannah was surprised at his hostile tone. “Captain Reed appears to be watching him closely enough.”
“It’s not Captain Reed’s job to be watching my son,” he snapped.
Hannah’s jaw dropped. After all his kind remarks to her, she couldn’t believe that Randolph meant his comment as a reprimand from employer to servant. Yet it was her responsibility to be watching his children.
“Would you like me to tell him to move away from the fire?” she asked, her voice tightening.
Randolph looked down at her in surprise. “No! That is…I didn’t mean to imply that you aren’t doing your duty, Hannah. What a preposterous idea. I’ve told you before—the children and I would be lost without you.”
“I thought you sounded irritated, sir.”
Randolph looked over again at Jacob and the captain. “I’m just tired, Hannah. I’m sorry. It’s been a difficult day.”
“I’m sure we’ll all feel better as soon as we leave the goodbyes behind us and get farther down the trail.”
Randolph