“The beans are ready, Peggy,” her grandmother called from the kitchen doorway. “Just give them a final stir and bring them on out to the table. Mind your hands on the pot.”
Peggy smiled shyly at Janie Trask, the older sister, and turned to go back to the kitchen. Her brother, Jacob, tugged at her skirts as she passed. “Where are the Crawfords?” he asked. “Benjie and I were gonna build a fort out back. Now it’s almost dark.”
“I don’t know where they are, Jacob. Probably busy with last-minute packing.”
“Do you want to build one?” he asked without much hope.
“I’m serving the supper, helping grandmother.”
“Can I, too?”
Peggy was usually patient with her eight-year-old brother, but tonight there was too much anticipation, too much uncertainty in the air for patience. “You’re too little, Jacob, and, besides, you’re a boy,” she said shortly, stepping over him to make her way to the kitchen.
Jacob looked around forlornly. His father was busy in conver-sation with Mr. Trask, Mr. Baker and Captain Reed. That’s where he should be, Jacob thought—with the men.
He jumped to his feet and walked over to the group who stood around the fireplace smoking long pipes that sent trails of blue smoke drifting up into the rough beams of the public room ceiling. The four men were laughing at something Captain Reed had said. Captain Reed was just about the most fascinating person Jacob had ever met. He’d been everywhere. And fought the Indians and the French and even a bear.
“Will there be bears?”
The four men looked downward at the sound of Jacob’s puny voice. His father picked him up and balanced him on one arm, which Jacob felt was not at all a dignified posture for a boy who was about to become a frontiersman. He squirmed until his father put him back on the floor.
“There are lots of bears, Jacob,” Reed answered, giving him a serious man-to-man look that made Jacob feel good. “We’ll have to be on the lookout, because it will be up to us men to be sure that none of those bears come near our womenfolk.”
The other three men smiled down at Jacob, but Reed stayed serious, and Jacob directed his answer to him. “I’ll be a good lookout, Captain. I’ll be looking out all the time.”
Reed nodded his approval, then motioned with his pipe. “I don’t suppose you smoke quite yet, Jacob?”
Jacob shook his head, his eyes fixed on the pipe. Ethan nodded once again. “Probably just as well. It’s not such a great habit anyway.”
In the kitchen Eliza Baker and Jeanne MacDougall were taking the turkey out of the big roasting oven built alongside the huge kitchen hearth. Hannah lifted the bean pot off its hook with her apron. “I’ll carry these,” she told Peggy, “and you bring out the crock of turnips. It’s not quite so heavy.”
“The Crawfords aren’t here yet,” Peggy informed the women.
“Well, the food’s ready, so we’re just going to have to eat,” Jeanne MacDougall said. “I’ve never known Amos Crawford to be on time for anything in his entire life.”
Jeanne had been snapping all night, Hannah thought sadly. She was fighting their departure up to the very last minute. Hannah couldn’t blame her for her resentment. It must be terrible to lose your only grandchildren this way. But in some ways it was hard for Hannah to identify with the forceful Scotswoman. Except for her mother, who had sometimes lived in a dreamworld where Hannah could not reach her, Hannah herself had never had a family to cling to. She had tried over these past few days to be tolerant of Mrs. MacDougall’s bad humor, which had worsened when Hannah had turned down the MacDougalls’ offer to buy out her indenture. Hannah suspected that Mrs. MacDougall had secretly hoped that when Hannah refused to go west, Randolph would abandon the idea.
She left the kitchen and started toward the tables, holding the solid iron bean pot awkwardly with both hands. Ethan Reed’s eyes went to her instantly, and he stopped m midsentence to cross the room to her. “I’ll take that, mistress. It’s too heavy for a slender young lady like yourself. And, besides, you’ll ruin that lovely pinafore.”
His hands brushed hers as he took the pot from her. “It’s just an old apron,” Hannah murmured in embarrassment, noting that every head in the room was turned to watch them.
Randolph set his pipe deliberately m its holder on the mantel, then walked over to Hannah. “I didn’t realize that you needed help, Hannah. Just let me know what you would like me to do.”
“Goodness, Mr. Webster. We’ve more than enough hands in the kitchen as it is. Everything’s ready as soon as we bring out—”
The door opened and the tardy Crawford family came trooping in. Amos held one of the twins in his arms. Hannah didn’t know if it was Hope or Patience. It was impossible to tell them apart. Benjamin and Thomas followed him, their expressions glum, and Martha came last, holding the other girl. Jacob ran immediately over to Benjamin and thumped him on the back. “We’re going to be lookouts for the bears,” he blurted to his friend.
“Evening, Amos, Mrs. Crawford,” Randolph said with a nod. “Come on in. We’re just ready to eat.”
None of the Crawfords returned Randolph’s welcoming smile. Amos’s eyes darted nervously around the room. “I reckon there’s something I need to tell you all first,” he said.
“What’s the matter?” Randolph asked, immediately alert. He and Amos had been schoolboy friends together and knew each other like brothers.
“There’s no easy way to say it.” Amos set his daughter down, then straightened up slowly. “We’re not going to be able to go along with you.”
There was a moment of silence, then Hugh Trask said loudly, “You’d better be joking, Crawford. There’s no way you can pull out of this now.”
Amos kept his eyes on Randolph, who looked as if he shared Trask’s sentiment. “What’s the problem, Amos?” he asked quietly.
Martha Crawford had let down the other twin, and the two little girls went running over to Peggy, who was their particular favorite. “Mama was crying,” one of them said before Peggy motioned them to be silent.
“We just can’t do it,” Amos said, his own voice breaking. “I was fooling myself to think we could handle this. The girls are no more than babes, and the boys aren’t old enough yet to be of much help. Martha says she’s tired all the time as it is.”
Seth Baker was still leaning against the mantel with his pipe. “You signed on like the rest of us, Amos. We agreed to pay the captain, here, among the four families.”
“We’ll pay if we have to,” Martha Crawford said, coming forward to support her husband. “But we’ll not be going. I’m not taking my babies out to be slaughtered by wild Indians.”
“That’s exactly what I’ve been saying,” Jeanne MacDougall hollered from the kitchen.
“Well, why didn’t you say that months ago when we started making all the plans?” Trask asked Martha, his face florid.
She took her husband’s arm. “We didn’t think it through. I’ll admit it. And if we have to pay the price, then so be it. But we’re not going west.”