Lake in the Clouds (10 page)

Lily wrinkled her nose, annoyed. “I can’t pick out a husband for you.”

“I’m very glad to hear it.”

“But if I wanted to get married I think Claes Wilde would do very well.”

Hannah’s jaw dropped. “Nicholas Wilde?”

Lily nodded. “Claes. He’s smarter than the rest of them. And he’s nice looking—”

“Yes, he is. Clever and handsome both. But he doesn’t interest me, and I don’t interest him. And here’s the reason.” She took her sister’s hand to hold against her own: white and copper. Lily studied the sight and when she looked up again there was the beginning of understanding in her expression.

“Because your mother was Kahnyen’kehàka?”

“Yes, because of that.”

“But I’m going to marry Blue-Jay someday, and he’s Kahnyen’kehàka. And Da married your mother.”

Hannah sighed. “I didn’t say it wasn’t possible, it’s just unlikely. There’s nobody in Paradise—Claes Wilde included—who would want a Kahnyen’kehàka wife. They might look at me—”

She paused. They did look; she could not deny the fact that Obediah Cameron blushed when she walked by, or that Isaiah Kuick stared at her as he would never dare stare at a white woman. Michael Kaes made excuses to talk to her when she brought tisanes for his mother’s headaches; even Mr. Gathercole, married and a minister, examined his own shoes as if he had never seen them before when he spoke to her, as if the sight of her face was more temptation than he could handle. Claes Wilde studied her too, but without ever saying a word. Men looking too long; looking away too fast.

Hannah shook herself. “They look at me, yes. But that’s as far as it will ever go.”

“I don’t think they stay away because your mother was Kahnyen’kehàka. I think they’re afraid of Da and Grandfather.”

“No doubt you’re right,” Hannah said shortly, so irritated
with the conversation that she would have agreed to anything to end it.

“Now what about Liam Kirby?”

“Liam is an old friend, nothing more,” said Hannah. “And he is just as white as any of the men in the village. Whatever happens, I’m not going away with him, and you can tell Daniel I said that.”

“Good,” said Lily shortly. “He’ll be relieved.”

They had come in sight of the small cabin that served as Elizabeth’s schoolhouse. She had taken it over for her students when she first came to Paradise, and she used it still: in the mornings she taught children from the village; in the afternoon she gave lessons all over again, this time for Many-Doves’ two oldest and Curiosity’s grandchildren, along with her own twins.

Later today Lily would come only reluctantly to her schoolwork and wriggle impatiently until she was allowed to go again, but right now she disappeared behind the cabin on some errand she did not explain to her sister.

Hannah hesitated and then went ahead without her, angling down the mountain and cutting through the woods toward the lake. It was the quicker route, and it meant that she would not have to pass under Lucy Kuick’s window. Widow Kuick seemed interested in whatever Hannah did, and she did not hesitate to share her opinion on matters as diverse as Hannah’s footwear, her complexion, her family, and what the widow saw as Hannah’s unnatural interest in medical matters where she had no role and should never be allowed one.

It was cool in the woods, but at the first sight of the lake glinting through the trees Hannah broke into a sweat. A strange tingling flowed from her hands up into her arms and over her back, so that the hair at the nape of her neck rippled softly.

There.

On the spot where his brother Billy had once put a torch to a schoolhouse, Liam Kirby sat among the tumbled hearthstones. A long rifle rested within arm’s reach. Down at the lakeshore his dogs were knee-deep in water, their attention on a single merganser winding its way through the reeds.

Liam was watching a heron pace through the marsh. It seemed to Hannah that she could hear the water parting and coming together again with every step the bird took. She
might have stood there looking for a long time, but the wind gave her away. One of the dogs turned in her direction and let out a soft bark of warning. Liam stilled the dogs with a word as he rose and turned toward her.

Hannah did not have to look very hard to see that this was Liam: there was the same jawline, rough now with beard stubble, the wide mouth, and a nose that had been broken more than once. He had grown into his full height and there were new scars: one on his chin and another cutting through his left eyebrow so that it twisted up into an arch and added an angle to a face that was already sharp with bone. But most disturbing was the guarded expression in his eyes, a new wariness that made him into more stranger than friend.

“You got my letter,” he said, his voice creaking a little.

She said, “Let me see you walk.”

He blinked at her in surprise, opened his mouth to speak and closed it again.

“All these years I’ve been wondering how that break healed,” she said. “Let me see you walk.”

Liam turned away and walked five steps toward the lake and back, stopping where he had begun.

“You’re still limping. Does it bother you in wet weather?”

“It bothers me some,” he said, and then, more firmly: “I heard about Falling-Day and your little brother. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Hannah wrapped her arms around herself. “Thank you.”

Liam ran a hand over his hair. “I’m glad you came.”

She said, “I’ve been worried about you.” It was the truth, but she hadn’t planned to say it.

He looked away over the lake, squinting into the sun. “I thought of writing, but I never could think how to start. In the end it seemed maybe best to let sleeping dogs be.”

And what was there to say to that? Hannah rocked back on her heels and studied the way the breeze stirred the marsh grasses. The silence stretched out between them, the uncomfortable silence between strangers who had once been friends.

She said, “You changed your mind, then.”

“It got changed for me, I’d have to say.” But then he fell silent again while he nervously touched the weapons that hung from his belt, one after the other. He had that look that men got sometimes when they wanted a woman to make
things easier, but didn’t want to ask for help. Hannah looked away, and at that moment he began to talk.

“When I left here that summer it was because I thought you weren’t coming back anymore.”

She nodded. “We figured as much.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Runs-from-Bears came home from Montreal without you and brought word you were on your way to Scotland.”

“And he brought you a letter from me.”

He smiled for the first time. “And a letter from you. The first one I ever got.”

“It was the first one I ever wrote.”

“It was spattered with blood,” said Liam. “Bears said it was his from the split scalp they gave him, but I always wondered.”

Then he lifted a shoulder as if to shrug off some burden sitting there. “The thing was, nobody had any idea of when we’d see you again, not even Bears. And then the lung fever started. Falling-Day took her family and went north to keep them safe from it, and I went south.”

“We never heard a word,” Hannah said. “I would have written if I had any idea where you were.”

“I went to sea.”

Hannah looked at him in surprise. “To sea?”

“Shipped out the first time in the fall of ninety-four. It weren’t until more than a year later that I heard you were back at Lake in the Clouds, and by that time—” He paused, and looked her directly in the eye. “It was too late.”

“Too late for what?”

He dropped his head and dragged a hand through his hair, frowning at his moccasins.

“The rumor is that I ran away because I took the gold hid on the mountain.”

Some of the awkwardness between them had begun to fade, but now it came back again full force. Hannah said, “What gold?”

Liam snorted softly. “Have it your way, then. According to rumor there was gold, and I took it.”

“It was Dubonnet who started that rumor,” said Hannah. “He once accused me of trying to poison him.”

“I see the man ain’t got any smarter with time,” said Liam. “I don’t suppose he could tell the truth to save his own life. But that rumor about the gold—”

Hannah cut him off with a raised hand. “I don’t suppose you came all this way to talk about old rumors.”

Liam sent her a sidelong glance. “So the gold ain’t gone?”

“What gold?”

“Never mind.” He picked up his rifle. “What I wanted to say is, I left this place with nothing but the clothes on my back. I ain’t ever took anything that didn’t belong to me, no matter what it looks like. And I ain’t ever told anybody what I know about Hidden Wolf. Not about the silver mine nor about the cave under the falls.”

“I never supposed you did.”

Liam’s brow drew together. “Still. I wanted it clear between us.”

Hannah said, “So now you did what you came to do.” It came out more abruptly than she meant it to.

He drew in a very deep breath and let it out again. “No, I cain’t say my business is done. I expect you heard already that I’m earning my living as a bounty hunter.”

“Yes,” said Hannah evenly. “A blackbirder. We heard.”

He avoided her gaze, leaning down to brush his leggings free of dirt. If he took offense at the term she had used, he hid it well.

“I’m looking for an African woman, about your age. Tracked her right to Hidden Wolf.”

“Is that so.”

“I expect she’s somewhere on the mountain, but I didn’t want to go any farther without permission. I know how Hawkeye feels about trespassers.”

He was asking her more than one question. Hannah’s fingers twitched slightly and she clasped them tighter against her sides. “You’d have to get permission from him or my father,” she said. “But I expect Elizabeth will have something to say about it too. You know how she feels about slavery.”

An eagle had begun circling the lake and Hannah watched it closely, afraid to look too long at Liam and let him see what she was feeling, anger and disappointment and worry too. She would keep that to herself for Selah Voyager’s sake.

“This is a special case,” Liam said.

He waited for the question that would let him explain away what he was doing, but Hannah was thinking of Curiosity, the expression on her face last night when she told them about
putting Selah Voyager on the trail north.
A special case.
She had used exactly those words, thinking of the woman who had put her life in danger to bring a child into a free world.

With complete calm she said, “And how is this one special, Liam? More money on her head than usual?”

He let out a rough laugh. “I knew I couldn’t show up here without you standing in judgment on me.”

In her agitation, Hannah took a step away from him. “Maybe you’ve changed, but I haven’t. You didn’t think I’d approve of the way you earn your money, did you?”

His jaw set hard. “As I remember, your mother’s people took slaves now and then.”

“The Kahnyen’kehàka kidnapped children to adopt and took prisoners in battle and who they didn’t kill they kept as slaves, yes. And what does that have to do with this woman you’re after?” Her voice had gone rough with agitation, and she swallowed hard.

“I thought maybe you’d be fair-minded,” he said tightly. “And find out the facts before you condemned me. A man’s got to make a living. I ain’t ashamed.”

Hannah drew up to her full height and looked Liam directly in the face. What she saw there was anger and exasperation, but the longer she looked the more those things gave way to the guilt she had hoped to see. Guilt without penitence, but it was a start.

She said, “I’m ashamed for you.”

Liam flinched, but his voice was steady and low and completely cold. He said, “The woman I’m after put a knife in a man’s throat on the Newburgh dock. When I take her back she’ll be tried for murder and hung.”

“If she’s guilty,” Hannah said.

“She’s guilty.”

“Well, then, I suppose her owner won’t be pleased,” she said, hearing the bitterness in her voice. “Losing his investment to the gallows.”

“I don’t think he’ll mind much,” said Liam. “It was him she put the knife into. This one.” He took a hunting knife from a sheath on his belt. The carved ivory handle was grimy with dirt and dried blood. Hannah studied it for a moment and then she looked Liam directly in the eye.

“I hope she’s halfway to Montreal by now.”

There was a glittering in his eyes, anger as sharp as the knife in his hand. Liam said, “I’ll wager she’s not much closer to Montreal than I am. If that’s where she’s headed.”

Hannah began to turn away. “I’ll give your message to my grandfather and father.”

“Tell them that it won’t serve anybody if they stand in the way of the law.”

In her surprise, Hannah laughed. “I’d like to see you look Hawkeye in the eye and tell him what he owes the law. You’ve been away longer than I thought, if you believe that will get you anywhere.”

Liam turned his head away from her and said, “I have been gone enough years to put this place behind me. I can’t remember why I stayed as long as I did.”

He meant to hurt her, but Hannah swallowed it down and kept her voice steady. She said, “It was your home. Everybody needs one.”

She watched the column of muscles in his throat flex as he swallowed, and then he managed a smile. “Oh, I got a place. Went to housekeeping last fall. I’d like to finish my business and get back to my family.”

The words hung there between them, almost visible in the air.

“I can understand that,” Hannah said very softly. “I’d rather be home myself right now.”

Liam said, “Then I’ll say my farewells. In case we don’t meet again. Will you shake hands with me, Squirrel?”

It was the name that struck so hard, hearing her Kahnyen’kehàka girl-name out of his mouth. Hannah sucked in a breath and held it, felt her fists like stone at her side. When she took his hand he started at the cold; she felt the shock move up his arm. He was looking down at her, but she turned away without meeting his gaze and never looked back, not even when he called after her.

“Tell them I’ll wait at the trading post!”