Hannah Howell (16 page)

“Look, Clover! Here comes the rowboat!”

“And none too soon,” she muttered as the branch cracked again, dipping a little lower into the water.

“Clover,” Ballard yelled as he caught sight of her from the narrow bow of the small boat and directed the barge captain to row toward her. “Are ye all right?”

“Yes, but this branch is beginning to give way.”

“We will be there in just a minute, love.”

Ballard cursed the caution needed to maneuver the small boat close to her. He had been in a state of
panic since Clover had plunged into the river after her brother. Although Agnes and Clayton had assured him that Clover and Damien could swim like fish, it had not eased his fear for them. All he could see was their diminutive forms being swept along by the swift, murky waters of the Ohio.

Ballard steadied himself in the narrow bow as the captain inched the boat closer. “Now, laddie,” he said to Damien, extending his hand, “grab hold and I will pull ye in.”

“What if you drop me? Clover says the mud here will eat you.”

“Quicksand,” muttered the burly, gray-haired captain.

“I willnae drop ye, laddie,” Ballard assured the boy. “Just reach out and take my hand.”

“Go on, Damien,” Clover said. “Ballard can hang on to you easily. I will still have hold of you as well.”

Damien tentatively reached out toward Ballard. He grabbed the boy by the wrist, but Damien was hesitant to release his grip on the branch. Clover gave Damien a gentle push toward the boat. When Damien finally let go, Ballard quickly yanked the child into the boat. He heard an ominous crack and watched Clover sink a little deeper into the water.

“Hang on, Clover,” he yelled as the captain readjusted the position of the boat.

“I am hanging on. ‘Tis the branch that is letting go.”

“All right, lass, reach your hand out to me.”

Clover briefly debated letting go and paddling over to the boat, but knew she did not have enough strength. Her legs were numb and her shoulders ached. The instant Ballard grabbed her wrist, she released the branch. She sank under the water, but felt
Ballard yanking her toward the surface. A grunt of pain escaped her when she was roughly dragged into the boat. She tried to pull away as Ballard tugged her into his arms.

“You will get all wet.” She wondered if he could understand her, for her chattering teeth were distorting her words.

“I am pretty wet already, lass. Just rest easy. We will talk when ye are dry and tucked into bed.”

Since she did not feel much like talking anyway, Clover did not argue. She huddled closer to Ballard and gave Damien a weak smile. The captain had thrown his heavy woolen coat around the boy, but Damien still looked cold. She was glad to see how quickly they were closing in on the barge.

The minute the rowboat was secured to the side of the barge, Agnes was reaching for Damien. “Clover, dear, are you all right?”

“I will live,” she replied as Ballard set her on the deck.

“If ye are lucky,” muttered Ballard as he scrambled onto the deck and scooped her into his arms. He marched through their surrounding family and headed for their tiny cabin. He was acting angry, yet why should he be angry with her? It was not her fault that Damien had fallen into the river.

She voiced a complaint when he set her on the bed and started to take off her clothes, but he ignored her. Her temper rose as he rubbed her dry, muttering to himself. It only added to her annoyance that she could not understand a word he was saying. He shoved her into her nightdress and gently but forcefully tucked her into bed.

“Are you quite finished?” she snapped after he secured the blanket around her neck.

“Nay. Ye need a hot drink to take the chill from your bones.”

He gave her no chance to say yea or nay, shutting the rough plank door behind him. Clover cursed and loosened the covers he had so snugly wrapped around her. That Ballard should want to care for her after her ordeal was very nice, but his methods were highly exasperating. He was treating her like a child. His sullen attitude puzzled her. She was determined to find out what was ailing the man.

As she waited for Ballard to return and gathered her courage to confront him, she thought about what she had done and shivered. Now that she had the luxury to consider her actions, she realized she could have died alongside Damien instead of rescuing him. Her aching body told her very clearly how great a demand she had placed on her strength. Although she was no longer shivering so badly that her teeth clicked together, she still felt a chill that went clear to the bone. Although she had had no choice but to act as she had, she was glad she had not had time to examine the consequences. Self-preservation might have held her back.

Ballard returned, scowling at the sight of the loosened bedcovers. He sat beside her, a cup of hot tea in his hands. She sat up to drink it and earned another scowl from him. When he just sat there staring at her, Clover decided she had had enough.

“Is something wrong?” she demanded.

“Aside from ye trying to kill yourself—nay,” he replied as he leaped to his feet and started to pace
about their tiny room. “Ye should have gotten back onto the boat. Ye could have been swept away.”

“As Damien could have been.”

He stopped by the side of the bed and sighed. “I ken it.” He grimaced and ran his fingers through his still damp hair. “What troubles me is that
ye
risked your life by staying in that cold water for so long. I wasted time getting the boat because I cannae swim.”

“A lot of people cannot swim, Ballard.”

“I ken it, but to tell the truth, I would have wagered that ye would have been one of them.”

“Papa taught me. You see, I fell into a creek when I was little and nearly drowned. He knew how to swim and decided that I should know as well. I, in turn, taught the boys.” She took another sip of tea.

“It was bloody unsettling to watch ye being swept away. I thought those laggards would ne’er get the boat into the river in time.”

“Then I shall teach you how to swim too so that the next time someone falls into a river, I can hold your coat while you hie to the rescue.” She smiled faintly.

Ballard grinned back as he sat down on the edge of the bed again. “Ye shouldnae make light of a mon’s vanity, lass.” More seriously he added, “Aye, I will admit ‘twas a wound to my vanity to be so slow to set after ye. Mostly, though, ‘twas bloody frustrating to watch first Damien then ye go hurtling down the river and ken that I couldnae help ye.”

“You came and got us in the rowboat.”

“Aye, but if ye hadnae grabbed on to that tree branch, the rowboat would have been useless. Ye both could have drowned ere I could reach ye.” He smiled as he took her empty cup and set it aside. “Dinnae frown, lass. I but grumble o’er my uselessness. No
mon likes to accept that he cannae fully protect his family under any and all circumstances. I will eventually recover from this blow to my pride. Ye did fine today and I am fair proud of ye for it. Just allow me to sulk a wee bit.”

“Perhaps you can take comfort in the fact that none of the other men were there to stop our fall either.”

“Oh, I do, lass. I do. ‘Tis bad enough not being able to protect ye meself, but ‘twould be far worse to have to listen to some other mon boasting of how he rescued my wife.” He winked at her when she giggled. “Now ye must rest. I ken weel that ye took a chill. Aye, and I could tell when I pulled ye out that ye had sapped all your strength. We will be landing at Tullyville by close of day tomorrow and I want ye to rest until then, to be sure that ye have nae caught the ague and have regained your strength for the rest of the journey.”

Clover briefly considered arguing, then decided she would be wise to do as he told her. She would take time to pamper herself and prepare for the more arduous part of their journey. As she smiled at Ballard, she prayed that her final destination did not look as destitute as some of the places she had seen so far along the river.

“This is Tullyville?” Clover asked Ballard as they stood on the muddy bank and watched the barge being unloaded. “I had rather thought that the
ville
on the end of
Tully
meant a settlement.”

“It
is
a settlement. ‘Twas settled by Mike Tully and
his friends.” Ballard laughed at her wry look. “‘Tis a new town, lass. ‘Twill grow.”

If it did, Clover hoped it would also improve. Five rough cabins and an assortment of ramshackle sheds lined a muddy, narrow, and badly rutted road. A light breeze wended down the street, carrying the acrid scent of farm animals. She saw only two women, slovenly dressed and leaning on a rail before one of the larger log buildings. Nudging Ballard, she pointed toward it.

“Is that the inn?” she asked uncertainly.

“Aye, but we willnae be staying there. ‘Tis little more than a tavern and brothel. We will take the wagons outside of town a ways and make camp. I dinnae want ye ladies anywhere near these men when they start to tippling.”

Long before the wagons were loaded and the oxen hitched up, Clover was eager to get out of town. The noise from the inn indicated that the men were already getting rowdy. It sounded jovial at the moment, but she knew that that could change quickly. She helped Molly, Agnes, and the boys into the back of a heavy wagon, then joined Ballard on the driver’s seat. Lambert and Shelton each drove another wagon and followed Ballard as he led them out of town.

After only an hour’s journey, they reached the place where Ballard wanted to camp. Despite the short ride, Clover’s backside ached something fierce. Checking to be sure Ballard could not see, she rubbed her sore bottom as she moved to help Molly unpack what they would need to make a meal. She was going to have to put some padding between herself and the hard seat if she wanted to be able to stand when she got to Ballard’s home.

“Now, miss, I want you to make the biscuits tonight,” Molly said as they sat near the fire Shelton had made.

Clover grimaced as she started to mix the biscuit batter. “Are you sure this is wise?”

“You have to start sometime.” Molly hung a heavy kettle over the fire and began to make a venison stew.

“I know. I am just not sure the men will appreciate being tested after such a hard day.”

Molly laughed. “True. We have enough flour, so I will make a small batch too. If yours be cooking up fine, as I am sure they will, ‘twill make no matter. You can never have too many biscuits.”

Cooking over an open fire instead of in an oven made Clover nervous. By the time everyone sat down to eat, she was reluctant to offer her biscuits. They looked fine, but that did not mean they would taste good. She stifled an urge to hide as Ballard tasted one.

“There, lass, I told ye ye would learn how to cook,” Ballard said as he chewed.

Clover sighed with relief and smiled at him, but as the meal continued she began to doubt his word. He drank a lot of water from his canteen and even let a biscuit soak in his stew until it was dripping with gravy. Shelton and Lambert watched him for a moment before each choosing Molly’s biscuits instead. Clover tasted one of her own. It was edible but just barely—dry and far too salty.

She felt a sharp pang of disappointment and embarrassment. Before they had married, she had told Ballard that she was no cook. Mistakes were common when learning a new skill. As Ballard doggedly took another of her biscuits, she almost smiled. He was being such a gentleman, trying to salve her pride
and her feelings, but she could not let him suffer any longer.

“Ballard,” she said, and almost laughed when he coughed a little and took a few hearty swigs of water to wash the dry biscuit from his mouth. “Are my biscuits really all right?”

“Oh, aye, lassie. Just fine.”

“You do know that, if I believe you, I will stop practicing.” She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the arrested look on his face. “I will think that I now know how to make good biscuits, and I will go on to master something else. So you should be very careful about giving such a good opinion so quickly. It could mean that you eat biscuits that taste like that for the rest of your life.”

“The rest of my life?” he murmured as he stared at the half-eaten biscuit in his hand.

“Yes. After all, why should I try to improve upon perfection?”

Ballard finally caught the light of laughter in her eyes. “Wretch,” he said, and grinned when everyone laughed. “Weel, they are a wee bit dry and I think ye used a touch too much salt.”

She tossed the rest of her biscuit into the fire, and laughed when he did the same. “I thought so too.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for being so kind, but I think it would be best for all of us if you were truthful. Now Molly and I can see where I erred and, I pray, fix the problem.”

Molly took a small bite of Clover’s biscuit, nodded, and tossed it into the fire. “You were that close, miss.”

“Good,” Clover said. “We cannot have Ballard drinking the well dry every time I cook something.” She laughed again.

Once the meal was over, Clover helped Molly clean up. Shelton was to take first watch, so Ballard led her to where they would sleep. He had arranged their bed under one of the wagons. Clover smiled faintly when she saw how he had tacked up blankets to give them some privacy. After indulging in a small toilette with a pan of cold water, she stripped to her chemise and slid beneath the blankets Ballard had spread on the ground. Even as Ballard tugged her into his arms, she yawned.

“Tired, lass?” He smoothed his hand over her hair.

“Yes, although I have not done all that much today.”

“Just being out of doors for a long time can make ye sleepy if ye are nae used to it. Ye are probably still suffering a wee bit from your adventure in the river.”

“Probably. At least, I hope that is it. I have never considered myself a weak or delicate person.” She moved her hand over his broad, warm chest.

“Nay, ye are nae weak or delicate. This is all new to ye, loving. Ye just need time to get accustomed, ‘tis all.” He grinned and kissed the top of her head. “Dinnae fret. I dinnae expect ye to become a tobacco-spitting pioneer woman who can chop wood with one hand and skin a bear with the other. Leastwise, not right away.” He laughed when she gave him a light tap on the arm.