January stormed into February, snowing into March, and now into the birth and death of April. And still no sign of Joshua Hansford. Juliet’s shoulders sank with the depressing thought he’d been killed or was a wanderlust character who made careless promises.
Juliet finished churning the butter, then picked up a knife to cut bacon from the slab she had lifted from the smoke house for breakfast, laying the final pieces in the skillet where it crackled and popped.
There was double duty of chores today, filling in for Eldon and the cook who had taken sick. The latter she felt was faking her illness for a day off. In the attic they shared, Juliet had knelt next to Eldon’s pallet alarmed by his pallor and burning fever. Juliet and Mary gave him drink and food, careful of the cook who watched their every movement as they passed her comfortable bedroom on the second floor and reported back to Orpha.
She feared for his survival.
Orpha’s madness grew with vigor, and so did her abuse, targeting the servant boy with her cruelty, cutting his rations and increasing his workload. Juliet knew it was a twisted punishment for Eldon who survived when Orpha’s own children had not.
“Where is my breakfast?” screamed Orpha from up above.
Juliet gazed out the window as she had many times since Joshua warned her of a potential Indian attack. Perhaps with the late winter snows, there would be less inclination by the savages.
The wood pile was low and had to be replaced. Her back ached from the endless chores performed since morn. She pulled her skirts away from the fire and lifted the baked bread from the hearth and set the warm loaf on the table. With the cook in her bed, Juliet sliced off large pieces for Mary and Eldon and swathed them with strawberry jam. She hummed a tune, cutting off extra portions of bacon. They would eat well today.
She touched her fingers to her lips, remembering Joshua’s golden kiss. She had certainly not been kissed before and he had fulfilled everything for a young girl’s dreams.
Inadvertent bits of information with reference to Joshua came from the Hayes. A neighbor had visited and Orpha bragged she had hosted the legendary frontiersman.
Joshua’s reputation stretched across the frontier. Sorting out the fanciful from truth was easy, and she dismissed most of it as fact. No doubt, there was his fabled marksmanship, but with a long rifle flung backward on his shoulder and shooting ten deer with a single ball?
She blew a tendril of hair out of her eyes. From the ludicrous to the sublime, tales touted the killing of a colossus mythical bear that ate people whole, tied up the ornery wind with a grapevine, and in deep water lakes, jousted with serpents the size of a house. He possessed the ability to disappear in the wilderness with no hint of his existence. Her favorite being how mountains knelt before him.
Her thoughts went back to Eldon.
An impatient knocking spurred her attention.
Was it Joshua come to take them away?
Her heart leapt. She dropped her knife and flew to the door. Her shoulders slumped when a red-coated soldier entered, stamping snow from his boots on the floor where Juliet had worked hard to polish that morn.
“I’m Captain Milburn Snapes, in His Majesty’s service. Is Master Hayes home? I have urgent business with him.” His high-pitched voice came as a sneering insult and so did the smack on her behind when she had turned.
Juliet raised her hand to slap his face and stopped. No sense earning a beating. She had to stay in good health to escape.
He laughed, and his closely-spaced, blood-shot eyes flicked from side to side like a boar inspecting a trough. His piggish mouth with a sloping chin jutted from bulging cheeks. He lacked only a ring through his nose.
“I’m in a hurry, girl, but wouldn’t mind a tup or two with you warming my bed.”
She was sick of being bullied and Joshua’s threats to Horace emboldened her. With certainty, she would not allow a soldier to intimidate her. “Master Hayes has some goats you can make yourself available to.”
He touched the pair of silver-mounted pistols stuck handily in his belt, and then moved a hand on the hilt of a long-sheathed knife that hung on his side.
Juliet pivoted and made her way down the hall, pointing to a room on the right. “You can rest in Master Hayes’ office while I get him.”
“I remember a slight,” he said behind her. “You’re an uppity servant who wants a lesson.”
He didn’t enter Horace’s study. She didn’t need to look behind. The stamp of his boots told her he followed close on her heels.
She skimmed a hand in front of her nose to eradicate his rancid smell. “Even the goats wouldn’t have you,” she said over her shoulder.
Into the kitchen she fled. Mary had returned and was cracking eggs. “Go get Master Hayes. He has a visitor,” Juliet ordered.
Mary hesitated, looking to Juliet, and then to the man who had burst rudely into the kitchen.
“Hurry,” Juliet mouthed.
Mary flew up the back stairs.
