“What’s yer meaning, Mose?”
Bewilderment blew through Zeke just as clear as the confused looks on his friends.
“One of us has got to marry her.”
They all looked around to see if their loud-mouthed friend was overheard. Zeke froze when he saw Aggie pop out from behind Issac.
“No, none of ye has got to marry her.” Aggie, hand on waist, finger pointed at the lot of them, fumed. “Aggie is not a problem. Aggie is a full-grown woman who is headed to a new life.” She made sure to include each of them in her angry glance and pointing finger. “Now, I’m not saying that I won’t need some help from my husband’s friends, but I will not—and let’s be sure we are very clear on this last point—” She pointed around the circle. “I will not be marrying any of ye lot.” Her voice never raised above a quiet whisper, but they heard each and every word. She about-faced and headed down the confused group of wagons and well-wishers.
“Aggie,” Mose whined in her wake. “Come on, Aggie. Ye know I didn’t mean nothing…” Aggie continued on, her back stiff with Mose trailing her skirts.
Zeke stepped closer to Isaac. “She’s still coming?”
Isaac nodded. “Miss Sigridsdatter? Yep.”
“It’s not safe.”
“Since when do we get to decide what other people are willing to risk?”
“Ye know what I’m talking about, a woman alone—”
“I thought this was about freedom, besides that, she’s hired a man.”
Right.
Zeke turned his gaze to the forest ahead of them and then back down the line of travelers. It was about freedom. His freedom. Freedom from attack, freedom to live life on his own terms.
Of course women deserved the same freedom he longed for and fought for, but he would be much more comfortable if she would wait until the unrest had settled down a bit. For all her knowing looks, just how did she think to fend off a man determined to best her? Especially a savage determined to capture that silky mahogany hair? Physically she didn’t stand a chance. How would she build a house for herself? Toby was common farm hand, and before that he’d freighted goods. What did a common farm hand know of building cabins? A possibility glowed in the dimness of his assessment.
Aggie moved in his peripheral vision. Checking her traces, soothing her oxen. Aggie broke all the things he knew about women. She was strong in a way he wasn’t. Her strength got him off the battlefield to Doc Jones who could heal him. Did Beti possess the same strength?
“Does she have family there?”
“No.”
“How will she survive?”
“She’s not yer problem.”
“She’s a weak link in this chain.” Zeke waved a hand toward the gathering before them. Again he fought the thought that she was his. “She’s everybody’s problem.”
“It’s been decided, Zeke.”
Resignation didn’t come easy.
“Yessir.”
Zeke made his way back to his wagon assessing the group as he went. It was the first time he’d seen most of the families of the men who’d come to their meeting. Claiborne Edwards, the stocky outspoken parson from their meeting at the church, approached Aggie.
“Fine ox ye’ve got there, Mrs. Thornton.”
“Much obliged, Mr. Edwards.” She eyed Zeke out of the corner of her eye. Now there was a woman who could take care of herself. And him. Maybe he should consider marrying her. It would give him a reason to help her get her house built. He could count on her. She would need more help than she realized. Nah. He pushed the thought down. He didn’t want to marry Aggie, and she certainly didn’t want to marry him.
“Boys!” Kate Stamp called her sons, and the boys came to attention. She stuck out her hand.
“I don’t got it, Mama. Evan let it go.” Indeed, as they stood there in formation, a little green line slithered into to grass.
Zeke turned his face so they wouldn’t see him chuckle. It wasn’t so long ago he’d stood in the same formation with Jonadab and Tirzah. They lost Jona at Saratoga. A brief sadness wafted through his excitement but didn’t stay. He was glad he could think of Jona without an overwhelming sense of loss. He moved toward the end of the line.
Gordon slipped under the wagon to catch his boys. “Gotcha!”
“Mr. Smith!” Nathaniel Baldwin called from the driver’s seat. “I should like to introduce my wife, Helen.” Helen Baldwin took a shy look him and rubbed her hand across her expanding belly.
“Nice to meet ye, Mrs. Baldwin.”
Mrs. Curd walked up, and she placed a hand on her own expanding belly. “Looks like we have something in common When do ye think?”
“Early summer.”
“Late spring for me. We will have to be good friends.”
Relief shown in an answering grin from Helen. Zeke sealed his lips together so his disapproval wouldn’t leak out. Obviously they had no idea where they were going or what they were facing.
“Mama!” A miniature of Mr. Curd slammed into Mrs. Curd’s middle. “Safe!” The child called to the small horde waiting just beyond the edge of the wagon. A slightly larger miniature of their mother with golden hair pulled back from soft brown eyes called to the child. “Franklin. Don’t bother Mama when she’s visiting.” The missile, apparently named Franklin, released his target and lined back up with his sister still grinning at his siblings.
A bellow of laughter issuing from behind the wagon enticed him to take a peek. At the back of Miss Sigridsdatter’s wagon, Mr. Tunstall Curd stood with more small versions of himself and his wife wiping tears from his cheeks while Beti looked at him with incredulity.
“Miss Beti ye are a hoot. My wife and I look forward to knowing ye better.”
