Carla Kelly (6 page)

“
Jesús, Maria, y José,”
said the little girl, who was
wide-awake now and sitting up.

“
Bless
you,” said the man, his voice a deep baritone.

“
Goodness,” said Omega. “Thank you,” she continued, remembering
her manners.

The little girl
regarded Omega a moment and then dipped her fingers into a tin
bowl. She took two more small bites, chewing thoughtfully, and then
handed the bowl to the soldier. He gestured toward
Omega.

“
We
saved you some. That is, if you’ll be coming
down ...”

His voice had a
singsong Welsh texture to it that was pleasing to the ears. Coupled
with the deep tones that seemed to swell upward from the soles of
his feet, the effect was altogether enchanting. Omega waited for
the man to say something else, and then realized it was her
turn.

“
Oh,
thank you,” she said again. “But there is someone else with me, a
boy. I’m sure he won’t eat much,” she added.

The man smiled.
“Boys always eat too much.” He cocked his head toward the girl.
“Angela, what do you say?”

The child looked
up at Omega. “We would not be good soldiers if we did not share,”
she replied quite seriously.

“
Well,
then, come down,” said the soldier, getting to his feet and
extending the bowl toward Omega.

Before she could
speak, a shadow fell across the barn’s entrance. Omega drew back,
praying that she would not sneeze again. There was a space where
the boards in the loft had warped and separated slightly. She put
her eye to the hole.

Timothy Platter
stood below in the entrance, holding the reins to his horse. He
dropped the reins, but the horse followed him into the barn and
stood cropping wisps of hay. Rumpled and dirty, Platter looked as
though he had slept in his clothes. He walked the halting gait of
someone who has spent the night in a most uncomfortable place.
Nothing about him spoke of ease or contentment. He looked like a
man thoroughly annoyed by failure.

Never taking her
eyes from him, Angela scrambled to her feet and stood beside the
soldier, who tucked the bowl in the crook of his arm and dipped in
with his good hand. When he finished, he proffered the bowl to
Timothy Platter, who waved it away.

“
I’m
from Bow Street and I’m looking for a runaway boy and a
woman.”

Omega held her
breath.

Platter
continued, coming closer to the soldier, who stood his ground. “The
woman is short, with wild-looking curly hair.”

Wild-looking?
Wild-looking? thought Omega. How dare he?

“
But
she’s not an antidote,” continued Platter, “not entirely. She has a
trim figure and a brisk way of walking, but she’s a bit grim about
the mouth.” He laughed suddenly. “And such a sharp tongue! You’d
know her if you saw her.” He chuckled again, but with little mirth.
“Or heard her.”

“
And
the boy?” asked the soldier.

“
He is
ten, has black hair, well-dressed, brown eyes. Small for his age.
Name of Jamie Clevenden.

Timothy Platter
looked around him, scrutinizing the loft, looking up at the boards
until Omega wanted to scream. “Well, my man, have you seen these
two?”

“
What
did they do?”

“
Oh,
Lord, man, have you seen them? There’s a reward,” said Platter,
softening his voice a bit as Angela moved behind the soldier. “A
big reward from the runaway’s uncle.” The Runner adopted a
wheedling tone. “You wouldn’t be sleeping in barns anymore. No more
soaked corn. That’s food for swine.”

The soldier was
silent for a long minute. Omega felt the tears starting in her
eyes.
Oh, please
, she said silently.
Even though you do
not know us. Please
.

“
I
haven’t seen them,” the soldier replied. He rested his good hand on
Angela’s shoulder and she drew in closer to him.

“
You’re sure?”

“
Didn’t you just say to me that I could not forget such a
woman?” countered the man. “I lost my hand, not my
brain.”

Timothy Platter
was not satisfied. Omega slowly let out her breath and peered down
at him. The Runner took out a cigar and clenched it between his
teeth, a gesture she was familiar with. “I know they’re around here
somewhere,” he insisted.

“
Then
you had better look for them,” the soldier murmured. “We swine have
to eat now.”

Platter looked at
the soldier. “ ’Twas only a figure of speech, lad,” he said
more softly. “I meant nothing by it.”

“
Still
and all, you’ll be needing to hurry on.”

“
If
you see such a woman and boy, would you let me know?”

“
No,”
said the soldier, and nothing more. He sat down again and crossed
his legs.

Timothy Platter
said nothing, only looked daggers at the soldier and chewed on his
cigar. He gave a mighty swallow, and Angela gulped.

“
I
don’t know that you’re anything you say you are,” the soldier
explained quietly. “And I’d rather sleep in a barn and eat corn
than betray people.”

Timothy Platter
stomped out of the barn. Omega held her breath a moment, listening,
and then heard the sound of a horse riding away. She let out her
breath and rested her cheek for a moment on the floor of the
loft.

Jamie was awake.
With wide eyes he watched her. “Is it over?” he
whispered.

Omega nodded and
stood up, shaking the straw and chaff off her dress. After another
moment’s look around, she descended the ladder, careful to keep her
skirts tight about her. At the bottom, the soldier helped her down.
She looked into smiling gray eyes and had to smile back.

“
He
offered you a reward,” Omega murmured.

Angela still
stood with her face turned into the soldier’s shirt. Omega touched
her gently on the shoulder and she looked around.

“
Thank
you for not telling him,” she said to both of them. “Jamie and I
would have been in a real broth then,” she added, not even
flinching at her own use of slang.
How low can I go?
she
thought as she watched Angela, and smiled at her.

Jamie came down
the ladder then, coming no closer than the bottom rung.

The soldier eyed
him a moment, and made no move to come closer. Instead, he lowered
himself to the ground and sat cross-legged. He handed the bowl of
corn to Omega.

“
We
found a little corn in the feed bin and soaked it last night,” he
said. “Angela put in a pinch of salt. You’ll find it better than
you think.”

After a slight
hesitation, Omega put her hand in the tin bowl and tasted the corn.
She chewed it slowly, and then took another bite, and handed the
bowl to the soldier. “I am Omega Chartley,” she said. “I really
don’t have a sharp tongue.”

“
Omega?” asked the soldier. “And were you the last
child?”

Omega nodded. “My
mother died when I was born. And I actually have an older brother
named Alpha. We are both teachers. And this is Jamie
Clevenden.”

Jamie said
nothing, only remained where he was, eyeing them all with
suspicion. The soldier held out the can to him and gradually Jamie
came closer, sitting down finally to eat.

“
Well,
I am Hugh Owen, late of His Majesty’s Fifty-first Rifles. And this
is Angela.”

The little girl
smiled and curtsied, but all the time her eyes were on Jamie
Clevenden. Omega watched, amused and a little touched, as Angela
eyed Jamie as though he were some rare species. Omega would not
have been at all surprised if the girl had not circled him
about.

What is she
thinking?
Omega wondered as the child continued to stare at
Jamie. Finally Angela cleared her throat.

“
Pardon me, please,” she began, her English heavily accented.
“Did that
hombre odioso
say that you were a
runaway?”

Jamie eyed her
suspiciously. “Yes,” he admitted finally.

“
You
had a home, and you ran away?” Angela persisted.

Jamie nodded,
intent on finishing the corn in the tin bowl.

“
And
you had a bed and more than one meal a day and you ran
away?”

The boy nodded
again. He put down the bowl and regarded her, trading stare for
stare. In her turn, Angela blushed and moved back beside Hugh Owen.
She continued to watch Jamie from the soldier’s side, as if she
could not believe that he was real. She looked to the soldier for
reassurance, but the man said nothing.

The awkwardness
of the moment did not elude Omega. “We must be on our way,” she
said crisply, filling in the gap of silence with her schoolteacher
tones. “Jamie, be a friend and fetch my hat from the loft, will
you?”

Jamie did as she
asked, scurrying up the ladder again and rummaging about in the
corner where she had stashed her precious bonnet.

“
Oh,
Miss Chartley,” he said at last, “I do not think you want
it.”

“
Of
course I do,” she replied. “Hand it down now, there’s a good
boy.”

Jamie’s head
appeared over the edge of the loft. “Miss Chartley, a mouse has
delivered ten babies in the crown of it.”

Omega sighed.
“Well, then, perhaps we should leave the rodents in possession.
Come down, then, and we’ll be off.”

“
Where
to?” asked the soldier.

“
Perhaps it would be best if you did not know,” she said. “Then
if you should meet with the estimable Mr. Platter again, you will
not have to tell him a lie.”

Hugh Owen did not
persist. “We’re glad that we could be of some assistance to you,”
was all he said as he extended his hand.

The absurdity of
the moment overwhelmed Omega, and she didn’t know whether to laugh
or cry. She shook his hand. “Good luck to you and Angela,” she
said. Omega felt stiff and formal again. “Your kindness is so
appreciated.”

The soldier
touched his hand to his forehead in a salute.

“
Mr.
Owen, is Wantage nearby?” she asked.

“
We
came from there two nights ago. It is about ten miles to the east
of us.” He smiled, but the smile held no warmth. “If you are a
one-armed man, there are no jobs in Wantage.”

“
And
is there ... is there a place near Wantage called Byworth?” Omega
asked. “I do not know if it is a seat of peerage or a village. Have
you heard of it?”

“
Byworth. Byworth. It sounds familiar ... but I do not know.
Mind you stay off the main roads.”

“
We
shall,” Omega said. “Good-bye.”

They set off at a
brisk pace, heading east, avoiding the roads again and tramping
through fields full of the fruits of late summer and enclosed
neatly about by stone walls. They skirted a small village and Omega
ventured in long enough to buy four rolls with the last of her
money. Her eyes were wide open for Timothy Platter, but the earth
must have swallowed him whole.

She gave Jamie
three rolls, thinking to herself as she nibbled her roll that the
extra avoirdupois she had accumulated during her sedentary stay at
Miss Haversham’s would soon be gone. Her skirt already felt
agreeably loose.
Hmmm
, thought Miss Chartley,
this
adventure could yield unexpected results
.

They ate in the
shade of a stone fence, glorying in the coolness of the stone at
their backs. As was his custom, Jamie said nothing. His eyes were
troubled, but he did not speak.

“
And
what if you do not find him?” Omega asked at last. She had plied
him with several questions, spaced out over the length of their
luncheon, and he had responded to none. Her upbringing dictated
that she toss in a comment occasionally to fill up the void of
profitable mealtime conversation. He surprised her this time with a
reply.

“
Then
I will take the king’s shilling and go for a drummer boy,” he said,
his voice firm with resolution.

“
Surely it would be better for you to return to your uncle?”
she ventured.

For answer, Jamie
gazed at her in that oddly familiar way of his. “I told you that I
will not go back.”

They were still
short of Wantage when night fell, coming swiftly upon them even as
they were deciding which road to take.

“
If I
had a coin, I would flip it,” Jamie said.

“
Silly, you might lose it,” said his companion. “I recommend
that we walk toward the river. I am thirsty.”

It was more than
thirst. Omega wanted to wash her face and see if she could repair
some of the damage to her hair. And if she could take off her shoes
and just dabble some water over her toes, how good that would
be.

There were men
fishing along the riverbank. Jamie and Omega sat in the bushes
until the men gathered their strings of fish and walked away,
talking and laughing, and heading for their homes and
dinner.

“
I
could eat those fish raw,” declared Jamie.