Riverbreeze: Part 1 (7 page)

Jamie would be furious at him. The horse
could be hurt and that would get him a tongue lashing worse than
any their adoptive father had ever given either one of them; he
himself could have broken his neck; he could have died, leaving his
son an orphan.
Stupid,
stupid, stupid
…Jamie had tried to discourage him, but
he didn’t listen. He could hear Jamie thundering towards him on the
gentle mare, yelling his name in a panic, cursing him soundly.

“God damn you, Rob, I warned you, you would
fall off!”

And suddenly Robert was laughing; laughing so
hard tears were rolling down his cheeks, his shoulders shaking and
ribs hurting so bad he thought he couldn’t stand it much longer. He
hugged himself, holding his ribs with his scraped and raw hands,
wheezing with laughter, but feeling reborn.

“What the bloody hell is the matter with
you?” Jamie yelled, as he brought his horse to a skidding halt and
slid off in one move. “You scared me to death, falling off like
that.”

“Oh Jamie…” Robert gasped, trying to catch
his breath, still lying among the leaf mold. “Oh God, I needed
that. That was wonderful!”

“Wonderful! Wonderful!” Jamie repeated
incredulously, his voice rising in outrage. Shaking with fright and
fury, he kicked his brother then, a good, swift boot to his right
buttock to go with his right lame leg, releasing all the fright and
anger he felt.

“Ow!” Robert exclaimed, rubbing at the sore
spot and looking up at his brother with wounded eyes. “What did you
do that for?”

“Because you’re a mushheaded, brainless clot;
that’s why!” Jamie yelled, his hands clenched into tight fists at
his side. “Because you could have injured my horse! Because you
could have…could have…died.” He ended breathlessly, his body stiff
and steaming.

They stared at each other for a moment, both
of them recovering from the surge of heightened and mixed-up
emotions. Robert, sobered, was the first to speak. “I’m sorry,
Jamie. I’m sorry.” He said shamefacedly, sitting up with a
grimace.

However, Jamie ignored him, making a noise of
derision. He wasn’t ready yet to forgive. Instead he went over to
Pisador who had immediately stopped after Robert had fallen off. He
was standing quietly off to the side, slick coat twitching and
steaming, tack jingling as he snorted and shook his head, reins
dangling to the ground.

“I said I’m sorry!” Robert called out louder,
trying to get his brother’s attention and trying to stand on his
own. He cursed colorfully when he realized he couldn’t put any
weight at all on his leg and needed the support of the trunk of a
sapling to get up.

“Jamie…!” He called again sharply in
frustration when Jamie wouldn’t look at him. “Oh, the hell with
you.” He finally muttered under his breath as he watched helplessly
as Jamie purposely continued to ignore him, busily checking Pisador
to be sure he wasn’t injured in any way.

Pisador seemed to be unhurt though, just
lathered a little and Robert hoped that that would take the edge
off Jamie’s anger. He never expected what happened next.

Just as resolutely as Jamie had turned away
from Robert and ignored him, Jamie now strode towards his brother
and embraced him fiercely, nearly knocking him over. “Do not ever
scare me like that again.” Jamie ordered gruffly into Robert’s ear.
“You know I couldn’t stand to lose you. I almost lost you once; do
not do this to me again!”

Robert was stunned! He thought he was going
to get a good, sound chewing out. He knew he had scared Jamie, he
could feel him shaking, and he had even scared himself, but he
hadn’t expected this outpouring of brotherly affection. But his
arms came up just the same to return the heartfelt embrace.

“I won’t, Jamie, I promise.” Robert said
gently, giving his brother an extra squeeze before letting him go.
“So, you’ve forgiven me, the brainless clot that I am?” He grinned
amusedly.

“I suppose so.” Jamie answered grudgingly,
picking leaves out of Robert’s disheveled hair and off his back.
“You’re a mess, you know, and if we do not get going soon, we’ll be
late.” He added, moving to gather the reins of both the horses and
bringing them back to where Robert was standing.

Robert laughed. “Heaven forbid! A mess
and
late; a double sin.” He said
sarcastically.

Jamie smiled in return. “You know how father
will look at us if we keep everyone waiting, and you know how he’ll
look at you if you show up like that!”

“Like we’re uncivilized, disrespectful,
unworthy and uncaring
children
, me being
the worst of the lot.” Robert answered, remembering their teenage
years under the proper eye of their adoptive father.

“Exactly.” Jamie agreed wholeheartedly,
helping Robert mount Penny. And then once he had mounted Pisador,
in an imitation of Tyler, stated, “A gentleman must always be
well-groomed. A gentleman must always be clean and neat and
properly dressed, his hair brushed and his fingernails not too
long.”

“Do you think my fingernails are too long?”
Robert joked, holding out his hand and wiggling his fingers in
front of Jamie’s face. His hand was dirty, palm raw and red, and
his fingernails, kept short for practical purposes, were rimmed
with the dirt of his labors.

Jamie slapped his hand away, continuing to
recite the lectures they had received on being a gentleman. They
had heard them so many times they often reminded each other of them
in jest. “As I was saying, a gentleman must always be on time.
Being on time is a sign of your thoughtfulness and civility…”

Robert joined in, the two of them riding
slowly, side by side. “A gentleman must always strive to be
well-mannered and polite. A gentleman must always be prompt whether
attending church or a political meeting or even a duel…”

“Oh yes, a gentleman must never be late even
to his own demise.” Overt sarcasm from Jamie.

“Precisely.” Robert agreed in that same
mocking tone of voice. “And a gentleman would never leave a lady
waiting to escort her to a dinner or to an appointment…or…”

Jamie cut in, adding in a mock whisper, a
mischievous smile on his face. The bantering often turned risqué.
“Or leave her waiting in her bedchamber.”

“Or leave her wanting or unsatisfied…” Robert
added, picking up on Jamie’s line of thought.

“Or leave her bed at all.” Jamie said with a
sigh, turning wistful.

Robert heard the yearning in Jamie’s voice
and turned to him with an indulgent smile. “One day, Jamie, one day
soon you’ll have your lady. You’ve learned your lessons well; you
are the perfect gentleman.” He said seriously, without any sarcasm
at all.

“Thanks.” Jamie said, sounding as if he
didn’t believe it. “But what about you, Rob? Will you open your
heart again? Will you ever marry again, do you think?”

“Perhaps, although I doubt I’ll ever find
another woman like Kathleen.”

“She was special.” Jamie said softly.

“Yes.” Robert sighed in agreement. Then
taking a deep breath, added, “But I think I would like to marry
again some time in the future. I know Abigail will not stay with us
forever and Robin does need a mother. However, right now, I’m
content to leave my life as it is.”

“You mean visiting Makki every month.”

Robert nodded. “Yes.” He answered
quietly.

“Does she ever expect more from you?”

“No. She knows our relationship can never be
permanent. We’ve discussed it several times. She’s a Powhatan
through and through and I’m too bloody English to give all this
up.” He said, sweeping his hand out to encompass all his land. “One
day we’ll go our separate ways, most likely when I do marry
again.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that.” Jamie
grinned at him.

Robert laughed. “You would. No, Jamie, your
big brother has not completely gone to the devil!”

“Thank God for that!” Jamie exclaimed.

* * *

It was a frightful scene for Abigail and
Robin when the two brothers entered the kitchen. Abigail let out a
small cry when she saw Robert so dirty and disheveled, his new
clothes ruined, and being supported by Jamie.

“What happened?” She asked, worry clearly
showing on her face.

“I fell off the bloody horse.” Robert
admitted as Jamie helped him to the bench where he sat down with a
groan.

“You fell off the horse!” She exclaimed,
sympathetic at first, but her gaze strayed to Jamie and when their
eyes met, he made a mocking pouting face and she nearly laughed.
Quickly she hid her smile, but not fast enough.

“Go ahead and laugh.” He grumbled
good-naturedly. “I deserve it.”

“Daddy! You hurt?” Robin called out, still in
his high chair.

“I’m fine, Robin. Daddy’s hurt only a
little.”

“Let me look at your leg.” Abigail went to
kneel in front of Robert but he quickly stopped her. She knew that
if she wrapped his ankle with a poultice of comfrey root, it would
reduce the swelling and hasten his recovery time.

“No, I’m fine. Really. But it would be
helpful if you would ready Robin for the trip and pack some food
while I change. Will you do that for me, Abby?”

“By all means.” She said, backing down.

While Jamie helped Robert upstairs, she did
all that without complaint despite the fact that she wasn’t feeling
her best. A week ago there had been a tragic accident at the home
of her dearest friend, Beatrice Warren. The poor woman had burned
to death in a house fire, a not uncommon event; and Abigail was
grief-stricken. But that didn’t prevent her from providing the care
that she willingly gave to Robert, Jamie and Robin.

Over the past two years since she had moved
in with the brothers, she and they had developed a comfortable
relationship with mutual respect and sibling affection. At their
first meeting, a mere two days after Robert’s wife’s death, Abigail
had been a shy, subdued young woman, grieving over the sudden loss
of her husband and three-month-old baby; and Robert had also been
grieving but desperate to find a woman who could nurse his newborn
son.

It had been Jamie who had found her after
exhaustive visits to most of the parishes up and down the river.
And despite the fact that Abigail had never met Robert before—the
Chilcotts had lived on the south side of the James River while
Robert and Jamie lived on the north side—at the first sight of
little Robin, she couldn’t refuse him.

And while Abigail would have preferred to
continue to live in her own home and stay close to her neighbor and
dear friend, who had been a skilled midwife and healer, she knew in
her heart that she wasn’t strong enough to live alone and she also
knew she did not want another relationship, so she had sold the
small farm she had inherited and had moved in with the two brothers
with the intention of staying only as long as it took to receive a
response to her letter that she had written to her sister and
brother-in-law in England, asking if she could come home. But a
response never came; Abigail didn’t know if her letter had gotten
lost or if her sister had moved, but the result was the same. She
was still here in Virginia because she had no other prospects.

In actuality, though, she had a good life
here with the Bassett brothers. It suited her for the time being,
this quiet, reclusive life, living unmolested with Robert and Jamie
on their plantation. From the beginning she had made it perfectly
clear that she did not want another relationship and Robert was
more than happy to leave her alone. Jamie was just too young and
his mind was filled with visions of stables full of lovely horses,
not visions of old widows. For at that time, that is how Jamie saw
Mrs. Chilcott, even though she had only been five and twenty years
old.

The arrangement allowed her to remain a
single woman. In England it was proper for a widow to be in
mourning for a full year, but in the colony, for mostly practical
reasons, men and women remarried within months, even weeks in some
instances after burying their spouses. Abigail had her share of
invitations and advances from the numerous single men in the
colony, all of them unwanted, so she was more than grateful for the
brothers’ protection. They escorted her to church every Sunday and
she even accompanied them to the muster once a month, and every
week or so Robert or Jamie would accompany her on a visit to her
special friend across the river.

Days had turned into weeks, weeks into months
and now two years had passed.

Robert was finally entering the social scene
again. Jamie too, but Abigail, more than ever now, wanted to shut
herself away and mourn her friend. She had no idea what she would
do now; Robin was almost weaned, she and Robert had never discussed
arrangements past that point, she supposed she could marry again,
although that thought repulsed her, or she could try sending
another letter to her sister. But for now she would isolate herself
from society once again.

Of course she had been invited to the social
affair; she was an eligible, free woman, not a servant. But she was
too sorrow-stricken to face all those gay people. She knew that
Jamie and Robert wanted her to go with them; they didn’t like the
idea of leaving her alone with their new indentured servant, but
she had insisted she didn’t want to go and she could take care of
herself. After all, the boy was only sixteen and still small for
his age.

Before the men left with little Robin, Robert
had a few final words for Abigail and then the new boy who had come
to the house for his breakfast. Working at the fireplace she
listened covertly as Robert warned the boy to behave and then
reminded him of the penalties for running away; whipping, branding
on the cheek or shoulder with the letter R, and extension of
servitude. She didn’t know if hearing about the penalties was
enough to deter him; she didn’t know him well enough yet, but from
what she had seen so far he seemed to be a good lad. He had always
shown her nothing but respect and cooperation and she was positive
she would have no trouble with him.