Tessa awoke with a start, heart thudding as if she’d run a mile or more, to find Clay beside her, pulling her back to the present. He didn’t know she dreaded sleep, her dreams uneasy, at times terrifying. In them she seemed to be trudging toward something, trying to make peace with something, to no avail.
Morning bloomed, forcing yellow light past the drawn shutters as the river town came to life. A rooster crowed. Someone was hawking hot cross buns on the thoroughfare below. But Tessa was mostly aware of the warm bulk of the man beside her, his rhythmic breathing telling her he was still asleep. Since arriving at Semple’s he’d seemed more comfortable, less haunted, the faint lines in his sun-darkened features less visible.
As for herself, she tried to leave the past behind, at least for their honeymoon, all that was new and distracting aiding her. But when she’d fallen asleep long after midnight, she simply traded her fretful memories for troubled dreams. Ross and Jasper were there in her mind’s haze, even Keturah with the Moravians in the far west.
She touched the locket’s face, feeling its unfamiliar weight against her skin, reliving the feel of Clay’s rough fingers against her throat, the gentle yet bumbling way he’d worked the clasp so that the necklace held fast and was hers. How she craved its story, longed to know the woman who’d been Clay’s mother.
Turning her head on the goose-feather pillow, she spied the book they’d abandoned last night. Soon they’d leave the comforts of Semple’s behind and press east, onward toward Philadelphia. But first a meeting with the commandant at Fort Pitt. Clay would confirm his leave of Fort Tygart and they would inquire about Ross. But now that she’d seen Fort Pitt and the throngs who came and went on land and three rivers, what hope had they of learning anything of her brother or putting in another plea for his return?
Best ponder more immediate things, like the sleeping giant beside her who had a look of wakefulness though his eyes were still closed. Leaning in, she kissed him full on the mouth, which curved into a lazy smile.
His voice was raspy from sleep. “I dreamed I married a belle of the border . . .”
“Who kept you up reading Candide.”
He traced the curve of her cheek with a gentle finger. “There’s always tonight.”
“Aye, we need to know the rest of the story.”
A wry smile. “That’s not what I meant.”
He pulled her closer and she kissed him again, long and lingering. He returned it with fervor. Still, a trace of bashfulness crept in, his and hers. She could feel a tender befuddlement rising at this new intimacy, of things fresh and untried.
“About that book . . .” He rolled over. “Better borrow it for the journey to Philly. But ask Mistress Semple first.”
“I will. Mind if I read in the saddle?”
“I’ve seen it done by an army chaplain with his Bible.” He threw the covers off. “What’s the hour? We’re wasting daylight.”
“Six o’clock, by my reckoning.” But in an unfamiliar room facing west she could not tell. She couldn’t slow Clay now, intent as he was on leaving Pitt. She sensed he had no great liking for the rowdy town, though Semple’s was civilized enough. “Don’t you want to delay leaving a bit?”
Standing at a washstand, he splashed water on his face. Drying off, he said over his shoulder, “Do you?”
She raised up on one elbow. “I reckon we can’t lie abed all week.”
“If we leave out by noon we’ll be near Parsons Creek by dusk.” He talked as he dressed, his belly rumbling from halfway across the room. “Hungry? There’s no better mush to be had than Semple’s, but don’t tell that to Hester.”
She cracked a smile, trading her town garb for the trail.
Delayed by a few kisses, they finally made their way to breakfast and ate heartily before walking to the commandant’s house, the only genteel dwelling Tessa saw. How odd it looked among its rough surroundings, though its river view was scenic enough. They were ushered inside by a servant who took them to a paneled office with a desk that rivaled Clay’s at Fort Tygart.
“Colonel Tygart, welcome back.” Edmonstone shook Clay’s hand and kissed Tessa’s in a gallant gesture. “An officer should be able to take leave for his honeymoon, no doubt. Glad reinforcements arrived just in time. But I sense you’re also here to follow up on the latest raid along the Buckhannon, the one involving your wife’s brother.”
Tessa liked Edmonstone all the more for coming to the point. She took the offered chair, hands folded in her lap, breathing in a distillation of stale tobacco smoke and spirits. As they talked, a long line of men began arriving, snaking beyond the front door as they awaited their turn.
“There are so many raids up and down the frontier at any given time, ’tis impossible to track who has struck where and those who have been taken captive.”
Listening to the man who kept the pulse of Fort Pitt and beyond, Tessa felt her high spirits sink.
“Unless a future treaty is arranged, necessitating a prisoner exchange, I doubt the Lenape will give him up. He’s young and in good health, of value because of his gunsmithing skills, and has likely replaced someone deceased within the tribe by now. He could also be used for trading purposes given the Lenape have something to gain, thus ending up as far north as the Huron or as far west as the Shawnee.”
Every knowledgeable, authoritative word chipped away at the remaining hope in her heart. Ross had not been gone long, but so much had happened since. Already she was dealing with a shadowy haze at the recollection of his features, the tone of his voice, the last conversations they’d had. A tumult of heartache and false hopes now weakened their bond, stealing her precious memories of him.
“I’m sorry to tell you there is seldom a satisfactory ending to recovering these captives. As it is, Fort Pitt may be decommissioned and no longer serve as a meeting place for the tribes and colonial government, a place to treat and enforce peace or to make war.”
Her fingers went to her locket as Clay and the commandant talked on, her gaze straying beyond the men. The maps on the office walls only underscored how vast was Indian territory, a confusion of mountains and valleys, a wash of lakes and rivers without end. Where in this web was her beloved brother? Was Ross even alive?
“I bid you a safe journey then.” Edmonstone was on his feet as Clay ended the matter, his attention pulled to the door where the line waited. “Mistress Tygart, I hope to see you again. And I will do everything in my power to enlist your brother’s safe return.”
