“Of course not, but if I wanted to—” She scuffed her foot on the floor “—say, sell her. It would be my choice.”

  “Is something wrong with Lucy that you want to sell her?”

  “No, nothing like that. I just wondered. It will be a long trip and all kinds of things can happen on a long trip.”

  A light sparked in his eyes. Had he figured it out? “Of course she is yours to do with as you please. I always have my lawyer draw up those kinds of papers. It doesn’t hurt if he witnesses the transaction either. That way all can be proved as done properly.”

  Clementine’s voice echoed through the entire house. “Amity!”

  Amity swung around at the call.

  “Just one more thing, my dear. Remember that Lucy’s family is still at the Hall.”

  Guilt. Would she never be free from its grasp? “I will remember.”

  She hugged him once more, just in case they ran out of time before leaving.

  Her aunt marched through the door. “There you are. Listen.” She crooked a finger at Amity and spun to leave again. Amity followed her aunt into the kitchen. “Did you pack extra blankets for Mr. Morgan? It will be a cold ride, and we don’t want him freezing to death.”

  “Yes, Aunt.” Not only had she packed blankets for Simon, but also an extra one for Clementine. Amity had even asked Cook to place an extra brick in the oven for her aunt. She’d seemed less hearty the last few days. The last thing she wanted was for her aunt to fall ill just because Amity wanted to see the mountains.

  When Amity asked if Clementine would like to put off the trip, she had been vigorous in her denial. “I will go to see my friends in Winchester whether you chose to accompany me or not. You seem to forget that it was my travel the two of you interrupted with your arrival a couple of weeks ago. I have every intention of getting out of this city.” Now here they were, on the verge of leaving.

  They both said their goodbyes to Amity’s Papa before stepping into the coach.

  “Will you stop fidgeting? You’re making me nervous.”

  “Sorry, Aunt. I feel like I’ve forgotten something, and I cannot for the life of me remember what it is.”

  “Pen?”

  Amity nodded.

  “Paper?”

  “And ink, yes, I have those things.”

  “Then you have the essentials. Anything you’ve really forgotten we can pick up along the way.”

  “Perhaps it is the last minute feel—I mean I have always wanted to see the mountains, now I’m going, and I wish I was staying.”

  Clementine laughed. “Isn’t that always the way?” she asked, pulling her knitting out of a basket into her lap. Coming off her needles were a fine pair of indigo stockings.

  Amity sat back next to her aunt and ran through her list again. What a ninny, for the last five years at least she’d wished to be heading toward the mountains. Where was the joy she should be feeling? Maybe it was Simon unsettling her nerves. She hadn’t seen him since the night he brought her home from the ball. He didn’t like her stepping into the unruly crowd that was clear enough. What would he think of her plan for Lucy?

  The coach pulled to a stop in front of Anderson’s. Simon stepped out into the street. After seeing to his trunk, he opened the door and sat opposite Amity. He laid his rifle across the seat behind him and placed a valise appearing to be full of books on the seat. “Good morning, Mrs. Foster, Amity.”

  “Did I mistake seeing two horses attached to our trunk wagon?”

  Simon rubbed his hands as if to warm them. “You did not mistake, Mrs. Foster.” His words were for her aunt, but he looked only at her. “It’s a fine day now that the wind has died down so I took the liberty of assuming…I thought Amity might like to ride?”

  Feet flat on the floorboards, she slid to the edge of her seat. “I’d love to ride.”

  Clementine chuckled, “Well, get on with it then. You’re holding all of us up.”

  With a grin at Simon, Amity lighted from the coach. Next to Simon’s stallion, Pilgrim, stood a sorrel pacer.

  “This is Ruby. The finest of Mr. Anderson’s somewhat picked-over livery.”

  Amity approached, Ruby nodded her head and nuzzled Amity’s offered hand.

  Amity’s breath hitched when Simon opened his arms to help her mount. She released him as soon as she attained her saddle hoping he didn’t hear the thudding of her rebellious heart.

  The coaches pulled away.

  “It is a fine day. Thank you for thinking of a ride for me.”

  “You are welcome. I thought you might enjoy getting out of the coach for a while. No doubt there will be plenty of days we will be glad of its shelter.”

  They made their way to the front of the little wagon train.

  “How are your sister’s horses doing?”

  “Very well, from what I understand. She had her eye on a new stallion not far from my aunt and uncle’s in Kemp’s Landing. The unrest there has hampered her efforts.”

  “She is still in Kemp’s Landing?”

  “Yes. She’d be safer at home, but I cannot persuade her to return.”

  “And yet, you travel to Williamsburg during this uncertain time for your own intellectual pursuits.”

  He grinned again. “Fair point.”

  “Women have not been excluded from God’s gifts, Simon.”

  He reined Pilgrim to a stop. “Whatever made you say such a thing?”

  Amity guided Ruby past him.

  He continued. “My sister is free to pursue her goals with horses or whatever business she chooses. But I remain responsible for her safety.”

  Amity still said nothing.

  “Like it or not, women are not the same as men.”

  “We are different. Not less.”

  Had she overheard his conversation with her father? Simon remained silent, thinking she would continue.

  “Did you tell my father?”

  “I didn’t have to.”

  “That explains it.”

  Simon’s mind whirled. “Explains what?”

  “Why my father practically shoved us out the door.”

  “Surely you can understand his point.”

  “I understand that he thinks he’s caring for me. What he doesn’t understand is that I am a grown woman.”

  “On the contrary—”

  Lucy peered wide eyed out of the traveling coach. They’d reached the bend in the road to Sweet Hall Ferry. It was time to cross the river. She should have prepared Lucy more for these crossings.

  “Excuse me.” Amity lined her position with the traveling coach and gave Lucy a reassuring nod.

  Lucy’s head retreated.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  “Lucy is afraid of water.”

  “She will be all right. Jax and the other servants will be with her.”

  “I will cross with her.”

  “Amity, I can’t leave you to cross alone with the servants, and I hardly think your aunt would like to join you.”

  The lane narrowed as they reached the other side of the bend. Amity and Simon trotted to the front of the line.

  A breeze chilled Amity’s neck and challenged her hat to remain in place.

  The Pamunkey River lined the horizon.

  “I shall be fine with Lucy.”

  13

  Five servants, two coaches, eight horses, two women, and him. The ferry could hold one coach at a time with one or two people, not including the ferryman. Simon divided and re-divided the problem. Why did the woman have to be so difficult?

  He ran his free hand over his thigh. His thumb brushed the stone resting in his pocket. At his side was the woman he’d dreamed about for the past ten years. If he had to ride the ferry six times himself, he would see to it that her wish was met.

  High on a bluff across the Pamunkey sat the Claiborne home. He’d heard that Claiborne removed west and a Mr. Ruffin lived there now and ran the ferry.

  “Stop worrying, Simon.” Amity nudged beside him as the coach rolled onto the ferry behind nickering horses. “I know you promised my father to look out for me. You will be able to see me from Claiborne’s. I’ve known these servants all my life. None of them will harm me.”

  “This will be an issue at each crossing, won’t it?”

  The sun glinted off Amity’s red-brown curls as she nodded. “Yes.”

  Stomach tightening, Simon took his place next to her aunt on the flat-bottomed boat. He watched Amity get smaller with each stride across the river and thanked God for Jax.

  Clementine slid her hand on Simon’s arm. “She’s stubborn like her father.”

  Simon glanced at the woman on his arm. Her gaze was directed across the river as well.

  “She is also as generous as her mother, and tender-hearted.”

  Simon swallowed the only comment he could think of which questioned the rightness of her mind.

  “Tenderness she gets from both of them.”

  “Are you saying she will temper with time?”

  “Not at all. I expect she’ll get more daring.”

  ~*~

  “Whatchoo afraid of, Miss Lucy?” Jax leaned against the coach wheel.

  “I don’t like the river.” Lucy kept her eyes on the water lapping at the sandy ramp. Amity stood at her friend’s side,

  Amity could still taste the water as it went up her nose as she fought the overseer her father had hired. She and Lucy had been thirteen. Amity had gone down to the river that miserable, hot summer day to cool her feet. She arrived at the river edge just in time to see the man with Lucy waist-deep in water. Lucy’s soaked dress clung to her young body. The man had Lucy by the arms, leaning over her, causing an unnatural arc that forced her head closer to submersion.

  Anger surged past the quaking in her stomach. Amity plunged into the water to Lucy’s side at once. “Let her go right this minute, Mr. Clapper.”

  The startled man peered over his shoulder. “Get outta here, Miss Amity. This doesn’t concern you.”

  “You’ll do as I say.” Amity used the sternest voice she could muster hoping they couldn't hear the quaking in her stomach. She grabbed his arm, trying to get him away from Lucy.

  He shook her off. “I see I’ll have to have a talk with your father about your behavior toward your elders.” Clapper sneered.

  Fear leapt in Amity’s heart as he pushed Lucy down again. Lucy’s arms windmilled and then went limp. Amity reached out to grab Lucy’s arm.

  “Let her go!”

  Clapper elbowed Amity away.

  “Clapper, stop. You’ll do as I say.” Field’s voice carried over the water.

  Amity’s thumping heart filled with relief.

  Clapper grimaced and shoved Lucy further under the salty water.

  Lucy’s hands flapped, and she sputtered to the surface, fighting Clapper, and heaving as she tried to breathe.

  Field walked toward them, never hesitating as he entered the water.

  Amity pushed Mr. Clapper and he toppled. She grabbed her friend by the hand and led her away as Clapper fumbled and splashed for his footing. She and Lucy came out of the river. Amity took off running to the house, dragging a wet and breathless Lucy behind her. She’d left Field to deal with Mr. Clapper. At dinner that evening, she heard that Mr. Clapper had moved on.

  Jax’s soothing voice drew Amity away from the horrible memory.

  “Nothin’ goin’ to happen to you on the river this day, Miss Lucy. See it’s calm today. If we wasn’t travelin’ I’d see about doing me a spot of fishin.’”

  “If’n you got permission from Mr. Simon: you mean. You ain’t free to do a spot a fishin’”

  Jax stood a little taller and puffed out his chest. “Now that’s where I got you, Miss Lucy. I’m free. Mr. Simon’s father left me free in his will when he died.”

  Lucy blushed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jax, I…” She shuffled. “I mean it’s wonderful—I’m sorry I thought otherwise.”

  “Nothing for you to be sorry about, Miss Lucy. It’s an easy enough conclusion to reach.”

  “If you’re free, why do you stay here?”

  “Well, now, that’s a different question. Sometimes I think I’m gonna pick up and head out there to see what I can find.” He drew a broad sweep with his hand. “Then I think, it’s gonna be more grass and sky and trees and I got that where I’m at.” He looked down into her eyes. “I guess I just haven’t found reason enough to leave yet.”

  A hint of color flushed Lucy’s cheeks.

  “You stick close to me, nothin’ goin’ to happen to you on the river this day.”

  “He’s right.” Mr. Ruffin rocked the raft as he hopped aboard. He cast away from the shore. “With the winds we had the last few days I couldn’t think of running the ferry. Blew shingles right off the house. But today’s all right.”

  The conversation turned to shingles and rooftop repairs.

  As the ferry slowly made its way across Pamunkey, Lucy stood close to Jax.

  Amity gazed around. Across the river Simon watched their progress. Really, what exactly did he think was likely to happen right here in full view of everybody? She held her tongue until the last of their retinue crossed the river and she and Simon had remounted. “I’m a grown woman, Simon.”

  “You have said that to me before.”

  “To no effect, apparently.”

  “I promised your father.”

  “What? What did you promise him, to stifle my experience? To be distrustful of my decisions?”

  “To protect you. And your aunt. Neither of you seem to understand the danger a trip such as this poses.”

  “Not as much as—” She urged Ruby forward lest she say something she would regret. Not at Simon, but about her own life. She loved her parents. She loved her siblings. What drove her to be adventurous she couldn’t say.

  Mill’s Ordinary appeared. The flat-faced building was covered in white clapboard, had black-shuttered windows, and looked as if it would tumble into the road if tapped just the right way. A tall, boney man met them in the yard. “Mrs. Foster’s party?”

  “Yes.” Simon answered stepping in front of Amity. She gave her reins to the boy that arrived soon after his master and went to greet her aunt.

  “It is a blessing to stand on solid ground, is it not?” Clementine smoothed her hair. “A good walk is what I’d like to have as soon as we’ve dined.”

  “Mr. Grimes.” The tavern keeper introduced himself to Simon and turned. “Mrs. Foster, may I say it is a pleasure to see you once again?”

  “Thank you, Mr. Grimes.”

  “May I also say that Mrs. Grimes and I were sorry to hear about Mr. Foster.”

  Clementine’s eyes moistened. “Thank you again, Mr. Grimes.” She retrieved a handkerchief from her basket. “I wish to dine as soon as is practicable. We are famished.”

  “We are prepared. Perhaps you would care to freshen yourselves while Mrs. Grimes lays the table?”

  “That is satisfactory.”

  Amity followed Clementine into the house, Simon at her back.

  A small fire smoldered in the fireplace in the bright bedroom. In the center was a large wooden, canopied bed she would share with her aunt. Three smaller beds lined the walls for their servants.

  “Your uncle and I stayed here often when we traveled this way.”

  A tug of grief pulled at Amity’s heart. Clementine and Uncle William were the only people whose marriage mirrored her own parents’. More than best friends, her mother called it, so much more. She had hoped for the same in her own marriage, back when she thought she would marry Simon and have twenty children. Those were long ago days and she wouldn’t let that ruin her adventure. “It must be hard…”

  “It is hard, child, but such is life. I’m not the first person to lose their husband and I won’t be the last. I trust that God will take care of me.”

  “Me, too, but it does make me wonder if it’s worth it.”

  “I wouldn’t trade the life I had with William because of the grief I feel now. I will see him again, and to that I cling. God is not done with me yet.” Clementine wiped the mist from her eyes and took Amity’s hand. “And He’s just beginning with you. You’ve been given great opportunity so don’t waste it.”

  “You mean this trip?”

  “Precisely. There are decisions to be made on this trip that will impact your entire existence.”

  “I know what you mean. I have been overwhelmed at what types of books I should be writing. I have written only stories for my siblings. When I planned this trip, I assumed I would write about Virginia at War. Now I’m thinking only of how to explain what I’ve seen to my sisters and brothers.”

  “That is not precisely what I meant. Amity, if you want a man to treat you like a grown woman you have to respect his need to be a man.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Clementine patted her hand. “Shall we check on Mrs. Grimes? I declare my leather bag is looking a might tasty at the moment and that can’t be any good.”

  A conspicuous silence filled the main chamber. It had to be the first day she’d seen no soldiers. Certainly, there were none in the dining chamber now. Simon stood by a window. A young couple engaged in lively conversation occupied one of the other tables in the room. Platters of roasted fowls and winter vegetables waited at the largest table in the room. Simon held her aunt’s chair, Clementine winked. Amity waited for Simon to hold her chair.

  “How was your ride, Mr. Morgan?” Clementine asked.

  “Enjoyable, but I am glad to have my feet on the ground for a while.”

  Amity nodded her agreement. Ruby’s gait eased her way immeasurably, but it did not make up for Amity’s lack of practice. She was tired. All she wanted was time with pen and paper. So many impressions to record. The comment from her aunt still rankled. What exactly did Aunt Clementine mean when she said men needed room to be men? Seemed to Amity that men had all the room they needed to do whatever it was they wanted to do.

  The room filled one by one as their dinner progressed. Light from the fine day outside softened into twilight.

  “I believe I shall have to forgo my idea of walking before bed.” Clementine yawned deeply. “It will be another long day tomorrow, so I shall say good night.”

  Amity followed her aunt. None of her rosy thoughts of scribbling her daily impressions each night had accounted for the lack of privacy that would be necessary for this trip. She could hardly sit with her candle while her aunt tried to sleep. She gathered her notebook, pen, and ink, and went back downstairs.