Rose's Pledge (25 page)

M
uskets in hand, the newcomers broke away from the curious villagers and started up the rise to the trading post. Rose saw their jaws go slack when they caught sight of her and knew they must be wondering how a white woman happened to be standing at the store entrance. No doubt they’d be full of questions. Well, she had questions of her own for them.

Both men were attired in the typical buckskin garb worn by hunters and frontiersmen alike, and both sported beards. The taller of the pair had a droopy mustache which moved when he spoke. “You sure don’t look like most hostages I’ve seen.”

Ignoring their lack of a polite greeting, Rose tilted her head slightly. “Welcome to our store. Miss Harwood at your service.” She fingered the edge of the long apron she wore over her cobalt daygown.

Both quickly swiped their fur hats off their heads. “Beg your pardon, miss,” the shorter, stocky man said. “I’m Mr. Gilbert. My partner’s Mr. Townes.” He blinked his hooded eyes as he and the other man stared unabashedly. “Where’d you come from?”

“As to your kind remark,” she said in a businesslike tone, “I’m not a hostage. I’m Mr. Smith’s servant.”

“Servant! Are you saying Eustice Smith brought you, a woman, out to this wild place—and you agreed to come?” Hiking his brows, he eyed her up and down.

Rose regretted having to explain. She’d never get used to the sting of her lowly position. “I should have said I’m his bondservant. I had no choice but to come.”

Their expressions hardened, and Mr. Townes spoke. “Where is the trader? We need to talk to him.” They started to move past her.

Rose put up a staying hand. “Please. I’m afraid Mr. Smith isn’t feeling well just now. He’s abed, taking a nap.”

“That’s not our concern, miss. We have important business to discuss.”

“Gentlemen, please. I shall go and wake him if I must, but first, I’ve a few questions to ask, if you’d be so kind as to indulge me.”

Both men relaxed, and Mr. Gilbert even managed an obliging smile. “Of course, Miss …Harwood, was it? What do you need to know?”

Rose noticed by his manner of speech that he seemed more educated than many of the other white people she’d encountered in her travels into the wilderness, and she found it quite refreshing. She smiled, alight with hope. “I was wondering if you happened to come across Nate Kinyon and Robert Bloom on your way here. I believe you came upriver, did you not?”

He gave a negative shake of his head. “Sorry, miss, but no. We came downriver from up on the Allegheny.”

Profound disappointment flowed through her.

“We’ve been checking on the infringement of the French up north,” Mr. Townes added, “by order of Governor Dinwiddie. We just stopped by for fresh mounts so we could report back to him. We hoped Smith could provide us with a couple of good horses.”

Rose focused on that disturbing information. “The French are to the north and east of us?”

Townes stepped forward and took her hand, a calming look in his eyes. “Don’t you worry your pretty head. No officer, even a Frenchman, would allow harm to come to a lady like yourself. You can be sure of that.”

Rose sensed the statement held little truth, if any, but remained silent.

“Now, if you don’t mind,” he went on, “we’d really appreciate a word with Trader Smith.”

“Of course.” She paused then searched their faces. “But might I ask a favor of both of you?”

“Anything, miss. What is it?”

“I’d appreciate it if you’d carry some missives with you when you go. I’d like my family to know I’m well. They’ve had no word from me for some time, and ‘twould set their minds at ease.”

Mr. Gilbert nodded. “I’ve pretty decent penmanship. Would you like me to write the words for you?”

Rose nearly smiled. They probably hadn’t come across many bondservants who could write. “That won’t be necessary. I have my own writing implements. I’ll go and wake Mr. Smith, and while you conduct your business, I’ll write my letters.”

Putting quill to paper, Rose was careful not to cause her sisters needless worry. She did want them to know Mr. Smith had turned out to be a kind employer and that she was faring well in a village to the west. They didn’t need to know it was a Shawnee village or that it was hundreds of miles to the west. She encouraged Mariah to remember to give priority to her spiritual well-being while she honored her commitment to her employer on the plantation. To Lily she mentioned that the Lord had placed a darling baby girl into her safekeeping, and she asked her to let the baby’s relatives know that though the child’s mother had passed away, the little one was fine and—

For a split second, Rose considered sending the baby back with the men but quickly discarded the notion. Even if they happened to be adept at caring for a baby, they’d be hard pressed to provide suitable food for her. Besides, Rose had already grown attached to Jenny Ann and wasn’t ready to give her up just yet.

“Is that within Your will, Father?” Realizing she’d spoken aloud, she shot a cursory glance around to see if the braves at the entrance had noticed her talking to the air.

She needn’t have worried. They sat with Mr. Smith and the others at his fire while Fawn Woman served them food and drink. Amazingly, the squaw hadn’t demanded Rose come to help. A closer look indicated she was paying close attention to the conversation. Her posture suggested she was every bit as interested in the news the men brought as Rose had been.

Within the hour, the men selected two mounts. While the supplies they’d purchased were being loaded, Mr. Smith continued conversing with Mr. Gilbert.

Rose picked up her wax-sealed letters and a few coins and walked out of the store to Mr. Townes as the man stuffed the last of his purchases into a sack. “I do appreciate your taking my correspondence with you, sir. I don’t know what the post might cost once you reach a town, but this should suffice.” She handed him the money and the letters.

He looked down at them, then at Mr. Smith, who was speaking with his friend. Toying with his mustache, he met her gaze. “Miss Harwood,” he said under his breath, “I don’t know what Trader Smith has told you. But no court in the colonies would hold you to your indenturement bond if you’d leave this place with us right now. Just walk down to that raft with me and get on. I’ll shoot the blighter if he tries to stop you.”

Rose’s heart took flight. Leave? This minute? Return to civilization and her sisters?

For a few seconds she entertained the thought. Then her gaze slid to Mr. Smith, who was wasting away by the day before her eyes. She could not desert him in his time of need. And Jenny Ann …The baby had been sleeping since the men arrived. In all likelihood the trader hadn’t bothered to mention anything about her presence, or the visitors would have gone inside to see Jenny for themselves. If they took her with them, it would be weeks before the milk she was thriving on would be available again—and besides, Mr. Smith was so attached to her.

And Nate. She couldn’t possibly leave before he returned …
if
he returned.

Rose exhaled a wistful breath and looked up at the man, wearing the most sincere expression she could muster. “‘Tis a kind and generous offer. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. But I know for a certainty that the Lord placed me here, and I cannot and will not shirk my duties—no matter how tempting your offer may be.”

He opened his mouth to object.

“Truly, kind sir.” She placed a silencing hand on his arm. “My place is here. At least for now.”

He stared hard at her then eased his stance. “As you wish, miss. I respect your decision, even if I don’t agree with it. I’ll not forget you in my prayers.”

“That is all one can ask.” Glad to learn he was a man who sought God, she tipped her head toward her employer. “And please add Mr. Smith’s condition to your prayers. He’s been poorly for some time. Pray that his recovery will be swift and complete.”

Even as she spoke the words, Rose feared her request held little hope. She’d been trying to ignore the trader’s rapidly failing health for days, telling herself it was her imagination, that he’d perk up soon. She was plying him faithfully with soups and broths and puddings, but they seemed to have lost their effect. Now she had to wonder what would become of her if Nate didn’t come back and Mr. Smith were to die. Fawn Woman had never befriended her, and who knew how the Shawnee in the village would look upon her once Mr. Smith was no longer around to protect her.

Her troubled gaze followed the travelers as they walked their newly purchased mounts down to the raft, and a sudden panic gripped her in its icy fingers. What
would
become of her? It took every ounce of willpower she possessed to stay where she was and not run down to them and plead that they take her and Jenny with them.

As a last resort, she turned her face up to the cloudy sky.
Have I made the right decision, Father? Do You truly want the baby and me to stay

here …or did You send those men to deliver us from this place? Please, I need to know Your will before it’s too late
.

Jenny’s airy giggles blended with Mr. Smith’s nasally laughter, drawing Rose away from her sewing. She gazed over at the pair and watched Jenny Ann crawling all over the trader. Smiling at the enchanting sight, she tucked her cloak more securely around her legs against the cool draft finding its way past the store’s partially covered opening.

Jenny Ann had begun to crawl and pull herself up to whatever happened to be within her reach. To Rose, she seemed to be early in her accomplishments—at least earlier than her brother Tommy had been at that age. To corral the active little one, Mr. Smith fashioned a little walled area from crates and grain sacks, and on this clear, crisp day the two of them sat inside it on a fur robe, his back propped against one of the crates.

A fire in the small fireplace nearby kept the back of the store fairly warm, and the trader sat near its heat most of the time now. Rose tried not to think about how much weaker he seemed with each day …yet he never tired of sweet Jenny. He called her his little bundle of blessing, his joy. It seemed the baby ate more solid food than he did, since he subsisted on nothing but milk and pudding now.

Rose had spent most of the morning sewing. To rest her strained eyes, she blinked and peered out of the store’s opening toward the village. Since the episode with Hannah Wright, she still harbored the opinion that the Shawnee were savages, but she couldn’t deny that their daily life proved to be pleasant. In some instances they seemed kinder than some English people she’d known. Rose rarely heard an angry shout from the village inhabitants and had never witnessed a hand being raised against a child, yet the children hardly ever misbehaved. The younger ones were quite happy as they mimicked their parents in their games, while the older ones seemed eager to learn needed skills from the grown-ups.

From out on the water, Rose heard echoing shouts and checked to discover the source. There she saw two village canoes bearing several enthusiastic young lads racing each other across the river, even on this chilly day.

She thought back on the surprise she’d felt upon learning that Indians bathed in the river quite regularly. And now that mosquitoes no longer presented a problem, the people ceased to wear that odorous bear grease.

How unfortunate that Mr. Smith had never taken up the habit of cleanliness. Rose wondered how Fawn Woman slept in the same wigwam with him. But then, perhaps that was one reason the squaw was unpleasant much of the time.

Aside from Mrs. Smith, most of the villagers seemed content. But despite their congeniality, Rose knew they could turn vicious and violent in an instant, becoming heartless and uncaring about any unfortunate soul they deemed their enemy.

She cut a glance at the trader’s wife. Sitting at her own fire and adorning her yellow dress with an assortment of colored beads, the woman still treated Rose with loathing and spoke only when there was an order she wished to give.

Attired in doeskin leggings and shirts these cool days, Running Wolf and Spotted Elk sat with their sister, their moccasined feet stretched out toward the fire. They’d completed their chores with the stock and had milked the cow for Mr. Smith, so they were enjoying a few moments’ relaxation.