His smile was wry. “Perhaps not. This teller of tales is not known for being hospitable butisconcerned for your reputation as their former pastor’s daughter.”
“Nothing untoward has taken place, nor will it.”
“I believe you, Miss Bohannon. I’m merely cautioning you about the eyes and ears of the community, which are especially watchful and wary given it’s wartime.”
Truly, everyone in Chatham seemed to be on the highest alert,when once it had simply been a sleepy hamlet of homes, sawmills, gristmills, a market, outlying farms, and little else.
Her attention fixed on the river. “Why are so many sentries at Chatham Bridge?” she asked.
“A British general sent word to Washington that he’ll be dining with him in Morristown by tomorrow night, only to be told by Washington he’ll be in Hades after.”
“Oh my.” She took her eyes off the sentries as they reached her residence.
“A bluff by the British, I sense.” He looked west where the forest stretched black and thick. “These mountains surrounding Washington and his army are hard to breach.”
Mae put a mittened hand to the door handle and didn’t let her bruised feelings stop her from being gracious. “Thank you for escorting me—and reminding me Chatham has eyes and ears, wartime or not.”
She slipped inside, shut the front door soundly, and bolted it with such force that it brought Coralie from the parlor. Her sister’s relief was palpable.
“Thank heavens you’re back safely! There’s been an uncommon number of soldiers moving about today. Aaron saw me home from the apothecary. He and Hanna want to have supper with us tonight. I may tell them about Eben—but only if James isn’t present. He’s never cared for Eben, though Aaron seems more understanding.”
Removing her wraps, Mae sought the parlor’s hearth. “What about Lieutenant Gibbs, exactly?”
“He’s unwilling to return to Chatham as we’d planned. He blames the village’s Patriot leanings and feels he might be endangered. I might journey to New York instead, where we’ll wed.”
Mae listened, feeling a little tug that Rhys didn’t care for her enough to make such a bold commitment. “Then that is where you should be. With your beloved.”
“I can tell from your expression you think it a horrid idea.”
Mae sighed. “’Tis a dangerous time to travel anywhere, is it not?”
Coralie’s jaw firmed. “’Tis daunting, yes, but worth the effort. As you know, Eben believes there will be no more war, that the Continental forces are too weak and enfeebled to continue fighting. He’s certain his land grant will enable us to settle somewhere in New York very soon.”
“He told you this in his latest letter?” Mae asked, thinking of Coralie’s fury if she knew Mae had read it.
Coralie nodded. “’Tis our new plan.”
Horrid, indeed. Mae sat upon the sofa, her sewing basket near, and tried to think of better things. If the weather stayed clement, she’d take the wagon to Lowantica Valley and deliver another load with James once he returned home. Their shared trips had become treasured and made her feel useful.
Thoughts adrift, she hardly heard Coralie talk about a cousin’s coming wedding in Perth Amboy. Instead her kitchen meeting with Rhys came to mind with sweet clarity despite Phineas’s secondhand scolding. She kept the beloved memory close. It helped offset the shattering moment in the Lowantica Valley cabin when she’d seen his mutilated back.
Bittersweet—that was what their relationship was.
A path of peaks and valleys.
sixteen
I was a shoemaker and got my living by labor. When this rebellion came on, I saw some of my neighbors got into Commission; they were no better than myself. I was very ambitious. And did not like to see these men above me. These, sir, are my only motives of entering into the service; as to the dispute between Great Britain and the Colonies, I know nothing of it.
Lieutenant William Scott of the Continental Army
Supper was enlivened by Hanna and Aaron. As plates were scraped clean and dishes emptied, Mae sensed her brother and his wife had something to share. So far, Coralie had been less than forthcoming about her plans. Had she changed her mind about telling them?
“We’ve glad news and thought we’d tell the two aunts first,” Aaron said, smiling at Hanna. “Come harvesttime we shall have the first arrow in our quiver, as Scripture says.”
Mae felt her anxious mood give way. “Truly?” To be an aunt. To have a little one about. Her own womanly instincts surged like the Passaic in spring. “I’m overjoyed for you both—for our family.” She looked at Hanna. “How are you feeling?”
“Topsy-turvy.” Still, Hanna’s reassuring smile said all was well. “Aaron often insists I rest when needed, or even be abed when I’m at my worst.”
