“We’ll dine alone here tonight.”
His shoulders eased. Did she ken he craved time with her apart from the others? Surely she shared that same desire. ’Twas their honeymoon, after all.
Twin tapers shone gentle light upon a small supper table dressed with dishes he’d not seen before. From Hopewell Hundred, likely.
“I could get used to this.” He sat, looking across at her as she poured him applejack. Her wedding ring shone gold on her slender hand. She wore a pale blue gown he liked nearly as much as her purple one. “So, tell me, whyarewe alone?”
She smiled, allaying his concern. “Nurse Lineboro pled a headache and is in her room. Mother and your aunt claim the heat has stolen their appetite.”
He nodded. “And McCaskey is laboring till dark with the indentures on another barn.”
The parlor door opened, and Izella came in on quiet feet, to serve them chicken fricassee left from midday dinner, stewed pumpkin, and corncakes. Selah kindly waited till he’d finished eating to say, “I’m sorry to report a thief has struck the henhouse.”
He swallowed the news along with his supper. “Mayhap a fox.”
“Your aunt believes ’tis no animal. She wanted me to ask you about tethering Ruby and Jett to both the smokehouse and henhouse.”
“Nay.”
She looked at him, inquiring.
“I’ve reason enough to refuse.” His eyes held her own, seeking understanding. “Just trust me.”
“Then I shall say no more about it.” Taking up a spoon, she sampled dessert. “Izella has been putting up brandied peaches for days. ’Twas Father’s favorite. Cook told me you’re partial to fresh ones, so I picked some for supper.”
“You were in the orchard?”
“Twice.” She took another bite. “First to gather fruit this morn and then again this afternoon to find Nurse Lineboro and McCaskey there.”
“And they weren’t picking peaches.” Beneath his wry gaze her skin pinked. “Did they see you?”
“Nay, they were blinded by a blaze of ardor.”
Despite the circumstance, he chuckled. Abandoning his half-eaten supper, he lit the pipe she’d brought him and looked out the nearest window to the orchard. A west wind riffled the heavily leafed branches, sending ripe fruit to the ground. Those trees would be bare once autumn’s tumultuous winds blew.
She set down her spoon. “Tell me about today’s search.”
“’Twas the most promising by far.” He inhaled, enveloped in a fragrant cloud. “And the most frustrating. We combed all of Hopewell Hundred again, to no avail. Given Laurent was in James Towne, or ’twas said, we took the liberty ofexploring the far west corner of his plantation that is heavily wooded.”
He paused and she looked at him, expectant, eyes full of heartache and hope.
“Jett led us to a heavily traveled thicket. A few chicken bones and eggshells were scattered about.”
“What?” Her eyes rounded. He read her thoughts. The thief?
“It might be naught but a passing vagabond. The ground bore an imprint—some sort of crate or container.”
“Was it gone? Had it been moved, perhaps?”
“Dragged through the dirt and brush, as best we could ascertain. It might signify nothing, but...”
She looked as perplexed as he felt. Tears shone in her eyes but remained unshed. “I think of little else but Watseka, even more than Father. Questions torment me continually. Is she hurt? Sick? If we don’t find her, what then?”
“You don’t believe she’s run away and rejoined her people.”
She gave a vehement shake of her head. “I believe she was happy here. We did all we could to make her comfortable. Given the commotion that I heard outside the exact hour she went missing, I suspect foul play.”
“I agree.” Pensive, he drew on his pipe a long moment. “As I pray and search, I sense she is still alive. That she is not far.”
