“I heard they was Tories,” Toby offered.
“I would not have thought that was possible,” Beti said giving Nellie a bowl of water.
“The Tory presence here was strong,” Zeke replied.
“I hear the English say they’ll only trade with Portsmouth once the trade resumes,” Toby continued.
“Will trade continue? I would have thought too much bad blood and passed under that bridge,” Beti asked.
“Nah, nothing stops the commerce. Just who gets the taxes.” Toby grinned and brought a finger to the brim of his hat. “I will be back for supper.”
“Can we see yer shop from here?”
“Aye.” Zeke pointed to a burned-out lot down an unnamed street.
“I should like to see it.”
“Not much to see now.”
Beti scanned the area. Aside from the new brick houses, a few wooden buildings bravely stood amongst the rubble. Men moved slowly through unpaved streets hauling the tattered scraps of lives that had once called the little town home. The port itself, once crowded with warehouses and ships laden with cargoes from the Indies, Europe and all points east, lay flat. The view was clear across the river to Gosport. The hollers of the ferryman mingled with the hammers of workers and the creaking of wagons removing debris to a smoldering pile on the waterfront.
“Aye.” Beti searched his eyes. “Is it too much to build here again? Is that why ye go west?”
“No.”
When he didn’t continue, Beti retrieved ropes she brought for the purpose and began to tie her sheep to the wagon. Thank God she only brought six of them.
“The shop was my grandfather’s then my father’s.” He kept his gaze toward the unnamed street. “My father died before the war. My mother and sister fled the first conflagration with my aunt and uncle. They’ve gone to North Carolina.”
“But the war is over. You could rebuild here.” Beti waved her hand toward the men working.
Zeke slapped a hand on his thigh. “I want something new.” He brought his eyes to focus on hers. Guilt and something she couldn’t identify colored their depths. Protectiveness swept through her soul. She actively restrained her arms for reaching out to comfort him.
“Ye mother and sister survived.”
He nodded. “And I intend to keep it that way. Nothing and no one will hurt what is mine again.”
Beti’s breath caught. She wanted to be loved like that.
“Let me help ye.” Zeke stepped up to Silas before Beti could form a word of caution. Silas rammed his thigh. Zeke rotated, slipped on his good leg, tried to catch himself on the bad one, and landed smack on his backside.
“Are ye all right?”
Laughter sparkled his amber eyes. “Naught but me pride wounded.”
A hint of a giggle released from Beti’s soft lips, and Zeke found he couldn’t look away. Her braid sat over her shoulder, frizzy tendrils haloed in the light of the setting sun. The sound of her laughter lightened all the events of the day.
“If ye had waited, I would have told ye not to approach Silas. He’s a ram, and though he’s happy with his ewes right now, he’s always a bit unpredictable. Ye’ve no experience, have ye?” She separated her feet and offered her arm.
Zeke glanced around, the wagons were just out of reach, and none of his compatriots were nearby. Avoiding her eyes lest he see censure or worse, pity, he accepted her arm and hoisted himself up. He found her uncommonly strong. Her stance didn’t falter as he quickly found his balance. She stumbled only when he released his hand, and she fell right into his arms.
When he’d held her in the swamp, his thoughts had been for comfort. To feel that she was alive and to let her know that she was safe and he would protect her. How had he missed the sensuous curves of her body fitting so rightly into his? Her eyes widened with a sharp intake of breath. Did she feel the same?
He stepped away and slapped at the dust on his breeches. “Well now, I have experience enough, just not with sheep.” Heat blazed up his neck. He sent a hand down the back to cool the fire. “What I mean is—”
“I know what ye meant.”
With practiced ease, she stepped up to Silas and took him by the head. She cupped his chin and placed a rope over his head. She held the rope, and thereby his head, close as she maneuvered the ram to a place at the back of her wagon. She now had one sheep at each of the corners and one each in the middle of her wagon. All the ropes gave plenty of slack for grazing. Zeke looked on in wonder, she had prepared herself for this trip better than he’d assumed she could. Could he have misjudged her?
Nine
Due to Aggie’s generosity, Zeke hadn’t needed to cook since they’d started out. Tomorrow was his turn to provide food for the meal she would expertly prepare. He sliced off a generous piece of ham and approached Beti’s fire, lugging his stool behind him.
He hadn’t realized how isolated she was back here at the end of the wagon train. He made a note to speak to Isaac about her placement in the morning. Surely there was space for her closer to the front.
“May I?” He offered the bit of meat. Beti’s eyes widened. “For Nellie. She deserves something special after what she did today.”
Beti beamed. “Aye, she does. She may not have room after all I gave her myself, but ye are welcome to give her the treat.”
“Have ye eaten?” She asked while Nellie snatched up the ham.
“No. I thought—”
A flush rose in her cheeks. “Forgive me, send my regards to Aggie.” She turned back to her pipkin and pan of biscuits.
