Shana's Guardian (11 page)

“We’d better go wait at the table,” Beth
whispered.

A minute later the two women sat
nervously in the kitchen, awaiting Mr. Clayton’s return.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this,” Beth
said, fresh tears filling her eyes.

Shana gave her a reassuring smile and
reached across the table to squeeze her hand.
 
“It’s okay.
 
I was hoping to talk you out of it
actually,” she admitted.

Beth’s lower lip trembled.
 
“Charles will take his belt to me when
he returns.”
 
She buried her face in
her hands and sobbed.

“You’ll be fine,” Shana said
soothingly.
 
“He might punish you,
but I’m sure he’ll forgive you afterwards.
 
Charles isn’t a cruel man.
 
I’m sure he only means to teach you a lesson.
 
I know he loves you – I can see it
in the way he looks at you.”

Beth wiped at her face and took few deep
breaths.
 
“You’re right, but I’m
scared.”
 
She looked up at
Shana.
 
“I’m embarrassed for you to
hear it.”

“Don’t worry.
 
I’ll take a walk.”

“Thank you,” Beth replied, her hands
shaking on the table surface.

An hour passed before Mr. Clayton came
stomping through the back door of the house, which opened near the
kitchen.
 
His countenance was dark,
and Shana trembled inside, even though she knew Daman hadn’t given Charles
leave to discipline her, a possibly she hadn’t considered until now.
 
She gulped.

“Tell me everything.
 
Now!” he boomed, crossing his arms over
his chest, the same way Daman always did.

Shana decided to speak first, mostly out
of pity for Beth.
 
She told Mr.
Clayton about the time they visited the gypsy village when they were all
eighteen, and she summarized the conversation they’d had in the greenhouse a
few days ago.
 
“Don’t be so harsh
with Beth,” Shana said.
 
“I was planning
to talk her out of going.
 
She might
not have actually left the settlement tonight.”

“It’s kind of you to protect your
friend,” Mr. Clayton said, “but I heard your conversation with Beth
earlier.
 
It sounded like nothing
would change her mind.”
 
He paused.
 
“Shana, if Beth still decided to sneak
off tonight, would you have come to me about it, or would you have kept her
secret?”

A wave of nausea swept over Shana.
 
So she
was
in trouble.
 
A
little.
 
His question confirmed it,
and she dreaded the moment Daman discovered her small part in Beth and
Margery’s scheming.
 
“I – I
was hoping I wouldn’t have to make that decision.
 
I don’t know what I would’ve done, but I
tell you the truth when I say I wanted Beth to change her mind about sneaking
off.”

“Thank you for being honest.
 
You may go.”
 
He nodded toward the back door.

Welcome relief rushed through Shana, but
it was followed by a stab of guilt
when she glanced at
Beth.
 
Poor Beth.
 
Anger radiated off Mr. Clayton in rapid waves,
and Shana sincerely hoped he calmed down before wielding the belt against
Beth’s bottom.
 
Daman never punished
Shana in a moment of anger.
 
Sometimes she was forced to wait in a corner for an hour or more until
he was calm enough to administer a fair punishment, and Shana loved him for it.
 
No matter how much pain she suffered at
his hand, Shana never once believed he would dole out more than she could
handle.
 
It was why she’d kissed his
hand the other night, to show her appreciation for his correction.

“Perhaps you should visit the library,”
Mr. Clayton suggested as she opened the door.
 
“We might be a while.”

Poor Beth indeed.
 
Shana left without responding and headed
for the library.
 
Mr. Anderson was
thrilled to see her, and she told him she wanted to prepare for next week’s
story time.
 
She picked out a few
children’s books, set them aside in the story time area, and
proceeded
to roam the aisles aimlessly.
 
Returning
to the Clayton household would be quite awkward this afternoon.
 
It was ten in the morning, but she
didn’t plan to return until lunchtime.
 
After discovering a hardcover of
The
Lord of the Rings
in fairly good condition, Shana curled up in a chair in a
quiet corner of the library and flipped it open.
 
She didn’t make it past the first page
without her thoughts wandering like a lost kitten.

Would Daman return next Saturday as
promised?
 
Or would some unforeseen
event delay his homecoming?
 
On
occasion, bad weather added an additional day or two to their trip.
 
It had rained for two hours yesterday
morning, and she’d spent the whole two hours staring out a window, wondering if
it was raining on the road where Daman traveled.

She continued reading but didn’t catch
much of
A Long-expected Party
, which
seemed to be the longest first chapter of a book she’d ever read.
 
Instead of thinking about Hobbits and
The Shire, she thought of the wedding celebration.
 
What fun she’d had, dancing with all the
children and talking to everyone in the settlement.
 
No one had given her so much as a
judgmental look, let alone spoken rudely to her for marrying her uncle.
 
Feeling foolish, she realized she’d only
imagined whispers and strange glances following her in the days preceding the
celebration.
 
Daman was so
well-liked
in this community that he could probably set the
chapel on fire and be forgiven.
 
That image brought a smile to her face, and she scanned the library to make
sure no one was watching.

As the clock tower down the street rang
twelve times, Shana decided to return to the Clayton’s.
 
Surely, two hours was enough time for
Charles to calm down and deliver Beth’s spanking.
 
When she reached the front door of their
house, she paused and listened for a few minutes, ignoring the occasional
passerby on the street.
 
Satisfied
that she wasn’t about to interrupt a
spanking-in-progress
,
Shana opened the door and held her breath as she crept quietly toward the
kitchen.

“Oh, there you are!” Beth said, smiling
prettily.
 
“Lunch is ready.
 
Talk about perfect timing.”

Shana returned her smile and shot a wary
glance at Mr. Clayton sitting at the table.
 
He gave her a warm look and gestured to
one of the chairs.
 
“Please, join us.”

Beth was all shy smiles during lunch, and
Shana was thankful the tense mood in the house had lifted.
 
Mr. Clayton volunteered to help Beth dry
the dishes, to Shana’s great surprise.
 
Before she left the kitchen, she saw Charles wrap his arms around Beth
and place a kiss on her cheek.
 
Jealousy and loneliness coursed through Shana in equal amounts, and she
fled into the hallway.
 
With nothing
else to do, she sought the comforting warmth of the greenhouse, where she found
several settlement women mixing soil to place into flats in preparation for the
planting of sweet peas, broccoli, and peppers.
 
Shana joined them and was having a
wonderful time . . . until it began to rain and her thoughts drifted to Daman.

* * *

Two long, painful weeks passed with no
sign of the men who’d left for the trading post.
 
They were four days late, and Shana was
beside herself with worry.
 
Charles
and Beth dragged her to church to attend a special prayer in honor of the
missing men, but no one volunteered to ride out on a horse to scout for
them.
 
Mr. Clayton must have
suspected Shana was thinking of riding outside the settlement barrier herself,
because he kept her in his sights at all times and locked the barn at night
where he kept his two horses.
 
She could’ve
easily slipped out the back door after he fell asleep and borrowed one of the neighbors’
horses, but she was terrified of riding off into the night alone with no sense
of direction.
 
Getting herself lost
in “The Dark World” wouldn’t quicken Daman’s return.

After the fifth day, extra guards were
placed along the settlement barrier, ensuring no one could leave or enter
without being seen, even at night.
 
In all the years Shana had lived in Jackson Settlement, she’d never witnessed
such precautions taken.
 
She
supposed if something terrible could befall a group of two dozen strong, armed
men, then the same something terrible could befall the settlement.
 
Perhaps outcasts had banded together and
formed an army of thieves and murderers.
 
She shivered at the notion.

Mid-November rolled in and Shana awoke on
the eighth day to a blanket of snow covering the ground.
 
She’d never felt so cold in her whole
life.

* * *

Daman stretched his sore legs as he
watched some of his men melting snow to water the horses.
 
“We pull out in twenty minutes!” he
shouted to the group.
 
A few men
nodded, but the rest huddled down in their jackets and didn’t acknowledge his
order.
 
No matter.
 
He had faith the wagons would be back on
the road in twenty minutes.
 
As long
as the weather held out this afternoon, he expected to reach Jackson Settlement
by nightfall.
 
And as long as
nothing else bad happened, he would return with all his men alive and healthy.
 
He wished he could say the same for the
horses, but armed outcasts bunkered down in the surrounding hills had been
picking their horses off for over a week now.
 
Once the scoundrels shot a horse,
Daman’s group had no use for it and left the body on the road.
 
The outcasts wanted the meat, and
unfortunately Daman’s caravan made for easy prey.

Hours passed and the snow on the road
deepened, but the sun shined bright until it eventually slipped away behind a
huge white mountain.
 
They lost two
more horses before the lights of Jackson Settlement appeared on the
horizon.
 
A great cheer went up into
starry sky as his men showed their appreciation for reaching home at last.
 
Daman ached to hold Shana in his arms,
and the others had loved ones they missed terribly too.

He lit a signal of red and green fire and
waved it high in the air, still seated on his wagon.
 
Someone on the barrier returned the
signal, and as the group neared their homes, the church bells clanged loudly through
the cold night.
 
He’d never had such
a reception before, but then again he’d never had such troubles with outcasts
on the road before either.
 
They
should’ve returned a week ago, and he hated knowing the whole settlement had
likely been worried sick.

The wagons entered the crowded streets
and veered off toward different houses and groups of people.
 
Daman drove straight for the Clayton’s
house, where he spotted Shana waiting anxiously on the porch steps beside
Charles and Beth.
 
Shana squealed
and ran toward the wagon, and Daman caught her in his arms as he stepped
down.
 
Sobs racked her body and she
clung to him so tightly it was difficult to breath.
 
He hugged her back, murmuring loving
phrases into her ear and thanking God the woman he loved more than life itself
was safe in his arms.

He felt Charles pat him on the back and heard
the wagon take off moments later.
 
Beth lingered on the porch, hugging a shawl around her shoulders and
smiling.
 
The church bells kept
clanging and the whole settlement was awake and wild in the streets, despite
the late hour.
 
The loud noises
faded and there was only Shana, all tears and lavender soap and soft skin.
 
He leaned back to kiss the moisture from
her face, tasting her salty tears.

“Are you all right?” she asked, her voice
hoarse and breathless.

“Yes, we all came back in one piece,” he
replied, brushing hair out of her face.

“What happened, then?”
 
Her wide eyes remained anxious, as if
she expected him to disappear at any second.

“I’ll tell you about it later.
 
Let’s go home.”

They passed Charles on the short walk
home and Daman thanked him for unhitching the horses and taking care to put the
wagon under an overhang behind the workshop.
 
The supplies could be unpacked tomorrow
morning.
 
Right now there was only
one thing Daman wished to do.