Zeke sat on his stool, and Beti stood next to him. “Agmund will bring with him letters from King Anders. These are proofs we are who we say we are. But I want to ye to think long and hard before ye make ye decision. Agmund would have ye think there is more urgency than exists. He is eager to make his mark, and for that I cannot find fault.”
“But ye want to be sure of me first.”
A smile broke out across Hagbard. “I see ye are wiser than ye years. Yes, I wish to see that we do not make a mistake, a mistake with many possible consequences. If ye were to be an unwise monarch, my beloved country would suffer harm, but we would recover. It would take time, but we would recover. However, a monarchy is a sacrifice of a life. If ye take it on, ye lose ye choice.”
“My mother said no.”
“Aye. And she was right to do so. She loved yer father, and this land.” He gestured around him. “And ye.” A twinkle lit his blue eyes as he pointed to her heart.
A weight settled on her shoulders. It occurred to her that all of her thoughts of her mother’s kingdom had been shaped by childhood dreams of fairy kingdoms. Glamorous clothes, Princes Charming, trays laden with delicious goodies, dancing, all the usual things. Never had she thought of the kingdom as a country like her own, one that must have physical boundaries, trade agreements and armies. In her dreams all those worldly things had been taken care of by a benevolent father figure with all the answers, who always listened to his wise wife, of course. She nearly laughed out loud at her foolishness.
After all that candor with herself she could not suppress the niggling feeling, the wondering. If she went there, would she be welcomed?
After perusing the letters at Beti’s request, Zeke agreed with her that they were genuine. She was a princess of Fjelloyricket. He couldn’t even pronounce the name of the place. She was entitled to the throne when her uncle died. The staggering thought sent him to care for the horses. Mose brushed down George. Copper munched a patch of nearby grass. Uncertainty gnawed his gut. If she went to Fjell—whatever it was called—she would have royal guards to protect her and no doubt a treasury capable of providing all her wants. She had no need of him. Hagbard said the monarchy is the sacrifice of a life. Zeke could see the old warrior was right. Beti’s mother had said no to the throne, but she’d already set her life in motion. Sigrid was a wife and a mother, what choice did she have? The best thing he could do for Beti was to restore her choices.
If he stayed away then she could make a decision she could live with. Because she would have to for the rest of her life. It might kill him, especially after that kiss this morning, but he would have to back off. Let her decide unencumbered by a crippled man she met by chance.
“So when’s the wedding?” Mose once again cut to the chase.
Zeke pushed down a quick retort. He shouldn’t have been surprised. News of their kiss had time to be written into travel diaries by now.
“I thought I made it clear that there wasn’t going to be a wedding.”
“Then the display back there is gonna be a problem.” Isaac joined them. Zeke kicked a tuft of grass and lost his balance. Mose offered a steading arm. Zeke took it and glared at Isaac.
“Ye see the problem? I may never ever—” He swiped his hand across the air in front of him. “I will not deny that I have come to care for her.”
“Ye love her,” Mose stated, his tone quiet and urgent.
“I will give ye that. I love her, but I will not marry her.”
He glanced up to see Beti just beyond Isaac. Their eyes met. She turned away. He turned to his friends.
“Aren’t ye gonna go get her?”
“Leave it be, Mose.”
Fifteen
That declaration was as clear as clear could be. Beti spun and made her way back to her wagon. Hot shame blazed her soul. What a fool she’d been. Of course, he didn’t love her. A decent man like him couldn’t care for her. Naming ye for a holy place don’t save ye from the deeds yer father done. She cursed the hope that had allowed her to dream she was worthy.
Beti picked up her pace to keep up with the plans that tumbled through her mind. She could make an agreement with Hagbard. She would offer to go to Fjelloyricket on a visit, try it on, see how the place fit. Then she could decide if she would stay there and rule or come home to Kentucky.
Maybe not Kentucky. Maybe she’d go to Bethlehem after all or some other city. She could decide that later.
First she needed to put as much distance between her and Hezekiah Smith as she could. Just his name brought images of the man dancing across her memories. The irresistible twinkle of laughter in his eyes. The sensation of his arms. The tendrils of heat from his gentle kiss. The wonton way she’d thrown herself into his arms.
If she took her time, even a short trip to Fjelloyricket should be long enough to get over this heartache. Paltry word for what she felt. Red hot humiliation swathed in anger swirled around the blue cold ache of her heart. She trusted him. Rosy dreams of a cozy cabin filled with laughter and children burned her face with shame.
No more.
Beti kept her head down as she picked her way through the mud. She passed the wagons to seek the firmer ground of the road. Oh what she would give to walk along the seaside. It had always been her refuge. The bigness of the ocean always brought a larger perspective back. God was indeed on His throne, and whatever trouble she was facing at the time would slip back to a manageable proportion. In retrospect it was clear that He met her there and comforted her. She reached out to Him and His peace wrapped around her like the warm woolen cloak she’d left behind in her haste.
She paused to take in the majestic height before her. A light drizzle misted down through the ancient pines. Surrounding them were long gray shafts of maples and oaks soon to bud into that new green of spring. A streak of white passed through the trees. Fear speared through the peace.
How far had she come?
Before she could glance back a hand clamped down over her mouth and nose. She couldn’t breathe. She jammed an elbow back and hit nothing. The man behind her held fast. Another arm anchored her limbs to her sides. She couldn’t call for Nellie. Her rifle bounced off her chest. It took only a moment for him to reach the woods.
The man ripped the tape from her gun. “Ye won’t be needing this.”
The muddy condition of the roads kept them at the tavern one more day. Restlessness kept Zeke busy. Thoughts of the way she kissed him. He loved her. Yes. That kiss proved she loved him. But Hagbard was right. She would have to choose, and it wasn’t fair to influence her away from what might be her destiny. He groomed Copper and walked him, taking care for the more serious ruts. He straightened his wagon and bought such supplies as he thought he’d need for the road ahead. Ignoring a sense of foreboding, he kept his back to Beti’s wagon.
At suppertime Zeke made his way to the fire, stool in hand.
Aggie tended the fire. Aromas of stew spiced the air.
“Where is Beti?” Aggie asked when he was close enough to hear.
“Why should I know?”
“After this morning? Ye friends know how ye feel about her.”
