He stepped to her back. “Miss Beti, I should like to—”
It was there again. Heat from his body reaching out to hers. Close enough to slip into his arms.
Beti rotated to face him. What should he like?
“That stew smells like heaven itself, Miss Beti.” Toby rolled a log over to sit on and handed his plate to her waiting hand. “I could eat a whole sheep.”
Beti filled his plate to the rim and topped it with a couple of malformed biscuits. It had been frightful day, and it sure showed in the biscuits. Toby’d just taken his place when Gordon trailed by his boys arrived.
“Oh, Beti, what is the delicious smell?” Aggie lugged her kettle to the fire and nestled it among the coals. Before she was settled, Captain Taylor and Moses arrived. A fluster flew through Beti’s countenance. So they’d come to give her the dressing down. To tell her she had to leave.
If that was the way it had to be so be it. She would keep Toby and see about hiring another few men to travel with her to Kentucky.
“Please excuse me,” she hesitated hating the tremors in her voice, “But what are ye doing here?”
“She’s daft.” Mose popped in with a grin.
“She. Is. Not. Daft.” Aggie jabbed her finger to drive home the point.
Beti searched their faces coming to rest on Captain Taylor’s. He shook his head silently, no.
“It’s what friends do.” Mose shrugged.
Friends? This is what friends do. They come. She took the warm thought and tucked it away in her heart to dwell on later.
“Ye are very welcome.” Beti smiled to herself as she mixed up another batch of biscuit dough and reached for her stash of cinnamon. Friends. The warmth in her heart sent worry out to pasture. And went a far piece into staving off the fear she knew would come that night. Would the man from the woods come back with his woman and her thieving hands? Of course, Toby slept under the wagon. He should hear anything so long as he wasn’t too much the worse for ale.
Beti joined them round the fire once she’d nestled her pan of cinnamon biscuits into the coals. Zeke positioned his stool next to her own. Aggie sat on the other side. On the far side of Aggie was Gordon. Across the fire was Captain Taylor and Moses. Toby stayed on his log near the fire.
“They will not come after ye tonight,” Zeke whispered.
She gasped more at the nearness of his breath than his declaration. The smell of him invaded her senses. Leather, pine, outdoors. Did he have to smell so good? In fact, she wasn’t too sure she heard what he said. “How do ye know?”
“There is nowhere to hide. They do not wish to be caught.”
“Thank ye.” Zeke’s assessment made her feel better. She was not exactly sure she agreed, but she felt better anyway. She’d leave it at that.
“Miss Beti,” Aggie started, “let me introduce ye to my friends.” She gestured to her left, “This is Gordon.”
Gordon half stood and offered his hand. “Gordon Sharpe. These are my boys. Travis and Will.” The boys looked up briefly from their game of jacks.
“That’s a good idea, Aggie. For simplicity’s sake let us all introduce ourselves, perhaps say from where we hail,” Captain Taylor said.
“Well, ye know I’m Gordon, my boys and I come from the area around Battletown.”
“Hey, I didn’t realize we come from so close together. I’m Moses Woodbridge, ma’am. I come from Fredericktown—not too far from Battletown. Little more frontier-like out where I come from.”
“So ye know firsthand what we are facing,” Beti offered.
“Yes, ma’am. I know a might about Indians.” The light in his eyes dimmed a shade, and his bright smile retreated to thin lips. He shifted his gaze to Aggie. “When that supper gonna be ready?”
Aggie grinned and waved a hand to dismiss him.
“Isaac Taylor, Miss Beti. I hail from Fredericksburg.” Captain Taylor focused on Zeke who went next.
“Hezekiah Smith.”
“Who descends from a loooong line of distinguished Smiths.” Moses’ sense of humor returned. He counted on his fingers. “Ezekiel Smith, Jehoshaphat Smith, Obadiah Smith, did I leave any of ’em out?”
Zeke let out a hearty chuckle. “Sounds like ye got ’em all.”
Beti turned to regard him fully. Never had she heard such names all in one family.
“My uncle Eleazar Smith, is fond of listing off the important Smiths.” The joy in his countenance was infectious.
She scanned the ring about the fire before starting her own introduction. “My name is Behethlan—”
“Yeah, we know about the other one.” Moses giggled. “I think she’s got ye beat, Zeke.”
“What does it mean?” Zeke asked quietly.
“I was named for a beautiful church my mother visited once. She said she loved the name.”
“I think the Smiths randomly flipped pages in the Bible until they found a sound they liked. My parents never told me a reason why they would name me after a king,” Zeke said.
“Where ye from?” hollered Moses.
