“Do you want to talk about what happened today?” Nathan asked after picking up the last piglet and checking it over.
“Nothin’ to say.” Ben scuffed his shoe into the dirt in the stall where the pig and her babies were staying.
“ ’Tis all right if you were scared. I was.”
“You were?”
“Sure. I was scared something would happen to you or Rachel. I was afraid Mr. Baker would not make it back to the house for me to remove the ball from his shoulder.”
“So was I.” Ben stared at the ground. “Especially in the swamp with that man.”
“He didn’t say anything about why he took you?”
Ben shook his head.
“That is strange.”
“Could have wanted me to work for him?”
“You think that was it?”
Ben nodded. “Yes, that has got to be it.”
“I wonder what kind of work.”
“Farm work. I have been doin’ a good job here. He has been watchin’, so he would know that.”
“He said he has been watching?”
“Yes. Or what if he’s a pirate and wanted me to work on a ship?”
“There haven’t been any rumors of pirates in these parts, but that could be a possibility.” Nathan stood and left the stall to move to the henhouse. He gave Ben the basket and let him go in to get the eggs. “You know that Rachel and I want to help you and your sister any way we can. If there is anything that is bothering you, you can come to us.”
Ben collected three eggs. “Not many this evening.”
“Perhaps the commotion disturbed the hens.”
“You think so?”
“Animals are sensitive to people’s emotions. That is what makes Jasper such a good guard dog. He senses when someone is in trouble.”
“He could have gotten killed today.”
“Yes, he could have.”
“I miss him.”
“John will make sure he is taken care of. We have Liberty now to care for. I thought that could be one of your jobs.”
Ben searched the barn and saw the puppy stretched out on the ground, sound asleep. “Rachel tolded me the constable was looking for a relative to take me and Emma in. We don’t have none. What will that mean? Will he take us away?”
Nathan walked to Ben and clasped him on the shoulder. “No. I will not let that happen. Neither will Rachel. She went into the swamp by herself because you were in trouble. A person does not do that unless she cares.”
Ben quickly veiled the shiny gleam in his eyes. “We work hard to pay for our keep.”
The child kept a barrier between him and others—afraid to care. Nathan could understand that. He felt the same way. He had lost enough people in his life. When a person cared for another, he risked getting hurt. “You do work hard and what you do is appreciated, but that is not why Rachel wants to keep you.”
“Then why?”
“Why don’t you ask her?”
Ben’s mouth puckered into a thoughtful expression. “Maybe.”
“Let’s go up to the house. I don’t know about you, but I am starved.”
Ben handed Nathan the basket and then ran to Liberty and scooped the large puppy into his arms. Together the two left the barn and headed toward the house, the firelight pouring out of the windows, coupled with the almost full moon, illuminating their path.
As Nathan strolled with the child, he thought back to earlier when he had seen Rachel coming toward him to see how Mr. Baker was. Wet, mud-covered, she was the best thing he could have seen in that moment while he was fighting to keep George alive.
She was safe. For now. He could not shake the feeling it was temporary. She had been in this country only a short time and in danger on a number of occasions. The farm was doing well and might even be a success. But it only took one of those perils going totally wrong to change everything. Today he had to make a choice between saving George or searching for Rachel. Yes, Patrick and John had been here and the decision had been easier because of their presence.
What will happen next time when the choice is not as easy?
Thirteen
A pounding on the door awakened Rachel from a deep sleep, but before she could don a wrapper, the sound stopped and she heard Maddy’s voice. Hurrying, she tied the sash to her dressing gown and left her bedchamber. The look on both Maddy’s and Nathan’s faces alarmed her.
“What is wrong?” Rachel peered out the window and noticed that night was giving way to dawn, but the light was all wrong—too bright for the time of day.
“The field closest to the house is on fire. Get everyone up and out of here in case I cannot do anything to stop it.” Nathan pivoted and hurried out the doorway.
“Get Emma and I will get B—”
“I’m here.” Ben stood at the bottom of the staircase. “Nathan said there’s a fire?”
“Yes, we need to get out. The fire is heading toward the house. Grab what you can and then go help Nathan.”
Rachel rushed into her room and stuffed some clothes into a bag then scooped up Faith. When she returned to the main room, the front door was open. The scent of smoke permeated the air, a haze snaking through the trees like a serpent wanting to devour them. Maddy and Emma came out of their bedchamber with their arms full of clothing and linens.
“We need to help Nathan fight the fire.” Once they were outside, Rachel handed Faith to Emma. “I want you to stay with Faith, away from the fire. Protect her.”
The little girl nodded and cuddled Faith against her.
Leading the others, Rachel started for the road, away from the fire that raged about five hundred feet behind the house. The wind blew, catching the clothes and dancing about her. At the edge of the flames, Nathan used a shovel and threw dirt on what he could. The battle seemed impossible.
Lord, help. I don’t want to lose the farm. I have too many depending on me. Please, You are the only One who can help
.
At a safe distance, Rachel knelt in front of Emma. “If you need me, yell. I will come. Maddy, Ben, and I are going to work with Nathan to stop the fire.”
In the dim light of dawn Emma’s eyes grew huge. “You might get hurt. Don’t.”
“This is my home. Your home. I shall do what I need to do to keep it safe. I shall be all right.” Rachel hugged the girl and Faith to her then rose. “Let’s go. We only have one shovel, but we have buckets and can draw water from the well.”
Ben raced ahead of Maddy and Rachel and retrieved some buckets from the house. Each of them filled a container with water from the well in the yard and walked as fast as they could toward the burning field, the wind whipping up the blaze.
Nathan glanced toward Rachel. “Stop. Don’t come too close. If a spark hits your clothes, you could catch fire quickly. The same for Maddy. Have Ben throw the water on the fire.”
A flaming piece of debris landed a few feet away from Rachel. She lifted her dressing gown and stamped on the tiny fire then took an empty bucket from Ben and hastened to the well to refill it.
Back and forth she and Maddy went with the water for Ben to toss on the fire. After multiple trips to and from the well, Rachel paused long enough to notice the wind had died down some. Perhaps they had a chance after all. Nathan continued to shovel dirt onto the blaze. He had actually made a little progress.
Renewed with hope, Rachel worked as fast as she could. The sun peeked over the trees to the east, painting the sky a fiery color to match the flames consuming her corn stalks. The ache in her arms protested every bucket of water she lugged to Ben, but she did not relent. This was her home now—all she had.
Mr. Baker arrived, out of breath, his arm still in the sling Nathan had fashioned for him. When he had gone back to his cabin two weeks ago, Maddy had not wanted him to leave. She thought he needed a few more days being nursed by her. But Mr. Baker had not been comfortable with her waiting on him nor with being idle.
Because of his arm, Mr. Baker could only help with transporting the buckets back and forth from the well to the fire. On one of his stops he asked Maddy, “What happened? There hasn’t been any lightning.”
“We don’t know. Nathan woke up to Liberty yelping in the barn. He got up and smelled the smoke then saw the fire.”
Mr. Baker turned his attention to Rachel, who handed him a pail. “Do you think this has anything to do with the man in the swamp? ’Tis been three weeks. He is in jail, but the constable does not know much more than you all did that first day.”
“Your guess is as good as mine. I have no idea. I hadn’t thought about there being another person associated with the man in the swamp. But what if the person who shot you was not the one the constable has in jail?” Rachel peered toward the bog. The sight that filled her vision brought more hope to the surface. “The wind has shifted.” She swung her gaze to the nearly destroyed field to find the line of flames had turned back toward the singed part of the ground.
“In that case it will die if it does not have anything to burn.” Mr. Baker grabbed the bucket and rushed toward the area still ignited with fire.
“The wind is blowing toward the swamp. If it burns anything it will be that.” Maddy met Mr. Baker halfway and passed him another pail.
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Thank you. Be back.”
Maddy returned to the well with a rosy hue to her cheeks that had nothing to do with the blaze and a gleam in her eyes. “Even hurt, he comes to help us.”
“Yes, Mr. Baker is a good neighbor.” Rachel lifted the bucket out of the well and transferred it to Maddy then looked over where Emma was with Faith.
A couple of bags on the ground met her perusal and sparked panic. Where were the girls? Rachel dropped the pail she was holding and raced toward where she had left the two girls. Her heartbeat accelerated with each step she took. She heard Maddy shout behind her, but she did not stop to answer.
“Emma! Where are you?” Rachel yelled over and over.
Close to the pile of their possessions they had taken from the house, she spied the girl running out of the barrier of trees between the river and the house. Emma clasped Faith to her, her screams piercing the air. Fright stamped its mark on her features. She kept glancing back over her shoulder.
“Help. It is after me.” Emma’s foot caught on a root, and she fell to the ground, rolling to keep from squashing Faith.
It? Rachel searched the woods as she neared Emma struggling to her feet. “What is after you?”
“Alligator.” Emma tossed a glance over her shoulder and pointed.
Rachel saw a large, ugly beast—with the biggest mouth—charging out of the brush right toward them. “Run. Get help.”
She could not let the alligator go after Emma, which meant she had to stay between Emma and the reptile. Scouring the area for some kind of weapon, she spied the bags and snatched up the top one. Throwing it at the alligator, then the one below it, she continued to look for something to stop the animal.
A thick branch lay on the ground near a tree. She raced toward it, yelling at the beast, “I am over here.” With a quick peek toward Emma, she latched onto the “weapon” and spun about to face the animal. It slowed and bellowed, eyeing her. Opening and closing its massive jaws, its sharp teeth gleamed in the light. Rachel swung the branch to keep the alligator focused on her but still at a distance.
A glance to the right found Emma at the house. Another glance behind her centered on a tree with limbs low enough for her to hoist herself out of reach of the beast. She stomped her foot and shouted, “Get out of here.”
It wasn’t afraid of her. Instead it sprinted forward on its short stubby legs—amazingly fast for such a large creature. Rachel screeched and dropped the branch then vaulted onto the first limb of the elm tree. The alligator leaped up, and its jaws snapped onto her dressing gown, nearly pulling her to the ground. She clamped her arms around the limb above her and yanked on her clothing. A rip reverberated through the air. But she was free to climb higher. She did without looking down.
Because she suddenly discovered she did not like heights. Three branches off the ground, Rachel clamped herself to the trunk and squeezed her eyes closed. The pounding of her heartbeat knocked against the wood of the tree. The thundering of her pulse nearly drowned the bellows of the beast below her.
Alligators cannot climb trees, can they?
She knew so little about this American animal. Now she wished she knew more.
Lord, help
.
A ruckus below her riveted her attention to Nathan wrestling the alligator on the ground under the tree. Mr. Baker held out his hand clenching Tom’s pistol but couldn’t take a shot because the animal and Nathan were entwined together. Her gaze fastened onto the knife in Nathan’s grasp as he sat on the creature’s back and locked his hands on the jaws to keep them closed. Then, releasing his grip on one side, he slit the alligator’s throat. The beast went limp in his hold, and Nathan rose.
Nathan had often supplemented their food supply with fresh meat from the animals around the area, but Rachel had never seen him kill one—and he certainly had not brought home an alligator before. Her stomach roiled. Bile rose into her throat. This country was too primitive for her. She was used to an estate not far from London or staying in their townhouse there. How in the world did she think she could make a life for herself and Faith in this place?
“You can come down now, Rachel.”
Nathan’s deep, gruff voice floated up to her in the midst of the panic seizing her. She gasped for a decent breath. The rapid beating of her heart threatened to overtake her whole body. One damp hand slipped on the bark, the wood scraping her palm. She could not move. Her muscles were frozen in place.
“Everything is all right, Rachel.”
Again his soothing words reached her ears, and she heard them, but when her gaze fell on the large alligator, bigger than Nathan, who was at least six feet tall, the enormity of what she had done with a puny little club-like weapon hit her as though someone had punched her in the stomach.
“I don’t know if I can.”
“You are not too high up. I will help you. Step on the branch lower than you.”
She tried to move her foot down to that limb. She couldn’t. “I—I…” She panned the view from the tree. Her vision blurred, her surroundings whirling.