Home of the Brave (6 page)

“Oh I’m quite sure he has.
I’ve read many of them and I haven’t been at it nearly as long as
he has. Do you read?”

Thomas was studying the book
spines. “Not these kinds of books. In fact, I doubt that I’ve read
an entire book since I finished school. Do you read
Latin?”

“Yes.” She glanced out
toward the front. “Be careful. I think Mr. Van Winkler may be
matchmaking.”

“What?”

“He thinks of himself as my
surrogate father and it appears to me that he’s found an
interesting prospective son in law.”

“Me?”

“You’re half Indian and so
am I.”

“Oh.” Thomas chuckled. “I
suppose I am at that. Odd, but that fact simply never occurred to
me.”

“Make yourself at home. I
have to wash-up and then see if I can find anything edible for
supper.”

“Can I help you?”

“You cook?”

“No. But – no. I wouldn’t
know the first thing about it.”

“Then read a
book.”

Thomas watched her climb the
stairs and then went back to peruse the book shelves.

“Do you read?” Van Winkler
asked as he came in.

“No, sir. Not for pleasure.
You certainly have a wide variety of subjects.”

“I make notes when I read.
If I come across an interesting or new subject I write it down and
then order a book about it the next time I’m in
Manhattan.”

Thomas nodded.

“You’ll miss that in
Texas.”

“What’s that,
sir?”

“Being here in New York you
can buy anything you can afford from anywhere in the world and have
it delivered to your door in a few months. It won’t be like that in
Texas.”

“No, I suppose
not.”

“I have some books about
Texas. Nothing very recent. And I have quite a few about the
Conquest of New Spain.” He walked to the shelf and showed
Thomas.

“Have you heard of a woman
they called La Malinche?”

“Yes. She was an Aztec
princess who became Cortés’s mistress and interpreter.”

“My mother’s a descendent of
hers.”

“Then you are a descendent
of Cortés.” Van Winkler chose a book. “You might like to borrow
this.”

“I’d like to read it here,
sir, if you don’t mind, but I don’t borrow books.”

“You won’t read that in a
single night.”

Thomas was watching Jane
come down the stairs. She was wearing a blue dress with a matching
ribbon in her hair and her figure met all his imaginings. “Perhaps
I could come back another day. To read your book.”

“You’d be very welcome any
time.”

July 4, 1828

Van Buskirk Point, New
Jersey

Thomas walked onto the front
porch. “Good morning, Mother. Happy Independence Day.”

“Happy Independence Day to
you,” Marina said. “You’re up early.”

“It’s going to be a big
day.” Thomas sat down beside her. “Where is everybody?”

“Your father and Jack have
taken little John fishing. Your aunt and uncle left in a buggy
going somewhere that I didn’t quite catch. Everyone else is still
asleep.” She looked at Thomas. “What’s happened to your Texas
plans?”

“I’m still
planning.”

“You better be planning for
next year. If you leave now and there’s an early winter you’ll
freeze to death on the trail.”

“Yes, you’re right, Mother.
Next spring might be best.”

“Do you want to talk about
it?”

“About what?”

“About whatever it is that’s
cooled your fervor for Texas?”

“My fervor for Texas hasn’t
cooled; I’ve just come upon a small distraction.”

“What kind of
distraction?”

“The female kind. You’ll
meet her later. I invited her to the picnic. She’ll be coming
across from Staten Island.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Marina
warned. “I hate surprises. Who is she?”

“Her name is Jane Hamilton.
She lives on Montauk Point.”

“The girl that lives with
Paul Van Winkler?”

“She’s his housekeeper,”
Thomas said defensively.

“She’s notoriously his child
mistress, Thomas,” Marina contradicted.

“They’re both victims of
vicious rumors,” he insisted.

“Well yes, that’s possible,
of course.” Marina looked thoughtful for a moment. “Did she tell
you that she’s Alexander Hamilton’s illegitimate
daughter?”

“No.” He looked at Marina in
surprise. “Are you sure that she’s Hamilton’s daughter?”

“No, and neither is anyone
else. But that’s what her mother claimed.”

“Wait. That can’t be right.
Burr killed Hamilton before I was born.”

“Yes. Jane’s a year or two
older than you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I saw her with her
mother when you were an infant. Jane was already walking and
talking. She might even be three or four years older than you
are.”

Thomas stood up. “Excuse me,
Mother, but I need to go stop her before she comes.”

“Wait,” Marina caught his
hand and pulled him back into the chair. “Let her come.”

“No. I don’t want to
embarrass her or shame the family.”

“Listen to me, Thomas. You
caught me off guard and I said some things that I
regret.”

“You said some things that
Jane should have said.”

“Such as she’s older than
you thought?”

“No. Such as she’s Alexander
Hamilton’s illegitimate daughter.”

“Why does that
matter?”

“It doesn’t, except that it
means she may be hiding other things from me.”

“What if she doesn’t believe
that she really is Hamilton’s daughter?”

“She uses the name
Hamilton.”

“If that’s her legal name
she doesn’t have much choice, Thomas.”

“I think I’ve made a
mistake, Mother.”

“Tell me why.”

“Even though I’m almost
certain that there’s no truth to the rumor about Jane and Mr. Van
Winkler, I’ve been troubled by it from the start and... That’s
all.”

“He knows that you’re in
love with her, I gather?”

“Yes. He’s been quite
encouraging, if the truth be told.”

“So it was either all a
vicious rumor, as you said, or they’ve gotten over each other and
they now want to move on. Why is that troubling?”

“Well, she has a past. I
mean…”

“You mean she might not be a
virgin.”

“Mother,” he
complained.

“What if she was a widow?
Would that trouble you?”

“No but…”

“What is she was divorced?
Would that trouble you?”

“It might.”

She shrugged. “Okay. You
have to make your choice, Thomas. But if you’re worried about your
family embarrassing her, you needn’t. We all live in glass houses
so none of us is likely to throw any stones.”

“Except Anna. She has little
care for anyone’s broken windows or hurt feelings.”

“Anna’s in Washington for
some kind of political rally and won’t be coming.”

“Will Dad recognize Jane’s
name the way you did?”

“Yes, and Nannette will too,
but I guarantee neither will say an unkind word.”

Thomas rubbed his eyes. “I
just don’t know what to do, Mother.”

“Well, Son, all I can add is
that the Van Buskirks accepted me into their family, and if they
did that, your girl should have no trouble at all.”

~

Jack was sitting on the
porch steps when Caroline came out of the house with a blanket over
her arm. “It’s too early for fireworks,” he said.

She sat down beside him and
whispered. “I thought we might take a walk in the woods and make
our own fireworks on this blanket before it gets dark.”

He looked
surprised.

“I can’t relax in that
squeaky bed,” she said defensively. “I keep thinking that
everyone’s listening.”

He smiled, stood up, took
her hand and pulled her to her feet. “How about the hayloft? It’s
closer.”

“Umm, I like the way you
think.” She looked around. “Where’s little John?”

“He’s playing with his lead
soldiers on the beach with Dad.”

They started toward the
barn.

“Little John sure loves your
dad,” Caroline said.

“Dad likes children. Mother
used to get furious at him because she claimed that she was always
stuck with disciplining us while he had all the fun. The truth was
that he liked us and she didn’t.”

“He certainly spoiled
Anna.”

“Anna was the most hurt when
my mother walked out on us.” He thought a moment. “No. That’s
wrong. William was crushed, but he hid it. I think that’s why he’s
always so angry. But Anna was the most vulnerable so we all spoiled
her.”

“Robert’s the one who seems
strange to me.”

Jack chuckled. “Robert’s
nervous around women. He’s the best of us all.”

“What do you think of
Thomas’s girl friend?”

“She’s very pretty and has a
marvelous figure.”

Caroline jabbed him with her
elbow. “That was an evasive answer.”

He shrugged. “What else can
I say? I like her.”

She squinted into the
setting sun, trying to read his expression. “Does it bother you
that she’s an Indian who’s been living with an old man since she
was a girl?”

“No.” He pushed the barn
door open, pulled her inside and closed the door. “The only thing
that bothers me is that the squeaky bed in our room upstairs
inhibits you.”

She ducked away from him and
ran to the ladder. “Let’s see if we can shake the barn.”

~

Jane giggled.

“What’s so funny?” Thomas
asked.

“I just saw your brother and
his wife slip into the barn.”

“Good. Maybe I’ll be able to
get some sleep tonight.”

Jane gave him a wide-eye
stare. “You can hear them?”

“Jack’s room is right next
to mine and the bed squeaks.”

Jane covered her mouth and
giggled into her hand. “Caroline would be mortified if she knew you
were listening.”

He chuckled. “She moans and
makes little squeaking noises. It’s very disconcerting.”

Jane blushed. “Oh dear.
Don’t tell me any more. I’m getting titillated.”

He nodded. “I agree. We
should change the subject.”

“I like your family,” Jane
said after a long silence.

“They like you too,” Thomas
replied.

“I have to confess that I
was terrified. I couldn’t even sleep last night. If Mr. Van Winkler
hadn’t forced me to, I wouldn’t have come today.”

“Well you shouldn’t have
much more to endure. The fireworks will start shortly and then
everyone will go to bed. I’ll take you home early in the
morning.”

“You didn’t hear what I
said.” She thought a moment. “Or perhaps I didn’t hear what you
said.”

“I don’t know what you’re
talking about.”

“I said that I liked your
family and you responded by telling me that I would have almost no
more contact with them. Should I take that to mean that you’re
anxious for me to go?”

“No. I just meant that the
pressure is off you now.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure that everyone here
liked you. My sister may be a different matter.”

“When will she be coming
here?”

“Halloween or Harvest Home,
I would guess. Perhaps both.”

“Then I’ll avoid her until
you’re more certain of your feelings.”

“I’m certain,
Jane.”

“Please don’t lie to me,
Thomas. I can see the doubt in your face.” She put her fingers to
his lips to prevent him from answering. “This is not the kind of
decision that should be rushed.”

August
13, 1828

Peconic Bay, Long Island,
New York

“I sometimes envy the
Indians,” Jane said. She was stretched out on the centerboard with
her eyes closed and her face turned up toward the sun.

Thomas was holding the
tiller in one hand and the lanyard in the other. “Envy them
what?”

“Their freedom.”

“Freedom to do
what?”

“To feel the sun on their
naked bodies.”

He chuckled. “You’re half
Indian. I suppose you could get half naked.”

“Would you like to see me
naked?”

“Of course I
would.”

She pointed behind them.
“That little island’s uninhabited.”