Chapter 7
As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.
Dawn’s laugh was a wonderful, whimsical sound that lightened the burden on one’s heart and set the corners of their mouth on an upward turn.
Jacob could attest to that. Once they had eaten and rested a moment for their midday respite, he had ventured over to inform her that they needed to be on their way in order to make the river crossing before nightfall.
Instead, he found himself knelt behind Dawn and Mary as they watched a yellow-and-black butterfly flutter from flower to flower.
“It is an Eastern Tiger Swallowtail, or Papilio glaucaus.” Dawn’s smile came easily, like the morning sun, as she spoke in a hushed, reverent tone.
“And those tiny pink blooms are those of the swamp milkweed, or Asclepias incarnata. Milkweed, especially swamp milkweed, is where Monarch butterflies lay their eggs.”
Despite the lack of blood relation, Mary looked on with the same demeanor of delight. To an outsider, Dawn would appear to be a young mother sharing her passion for nature with her daughter. Both with blue eyes dancing with joy. It warmed Jacob’s heart.
Dawn must have noticed his presence, though, for she stood and clasped her hands together. “But I suppose it is time for us to head on our way. More adventures to be had.”
Mary turned and rushed to him, arms in the air.
Jacob scooped her up and settled her miniscule body on his hip.
The poor child was as light as a feather, with each of her ribs palpable to the touch.
But he did not mind how her bones poked into his side, for it brought a smile to her face to be carried.
Her little soul was so full of love ready to be given away, if only anyone besides Dawn had ever taken the time to let her in.
He would never understand how her stepparents could have ever been so cruel to anyone, much less an innocent child such as she.
Jacob carried her over to where his horse was tied to a low-hanging branch, then waited for Dawn to mount. Instead, his new wife held out her arms to take Mary. “You should take a turn.” She inclined her head toward the saddle.
He shook his head. “I could never ride while my wife walks.”
Dawn’s mouth crimped downward in a frown, and her gaze slid toward the horse.
Finally, after her frown deepened, she climbed up.
Jacob handed Mary to her, then went through his mental checklist to verify all items were gathered and secure.
But even as he started forward along what once had only been a game trail, Dawn’s face continued to show her displeasure.
How could he have upset her so simply by putting her well-being before his own?
Was that not what a husband, what a gentleman should do?
Perhaps being married to his childhood sweetheart would be more complicated than he had imagined.
After all, who was privy to the intricacies of a woman’s mind?
After more than an hour of walking in silence, though, Jacob could stand no more.
Throughout the morning, at least Dawn had periodically pointed out various flowers and wildlife to Mary, of which there was an abundance in Kentucky.
But since their respite, she had said not a word.
Not when Samson scared a pair of mourning doves from the undergrowth or when a bright red cardinal sat chirping at them on a branch overhead.
Even now, several yards ahead on the trail, two squirrels chased one another down the length of a branch, causing the branch to bounce and the leaves to rustle, but she seemed not to notice.
Jacob stopped, and Samson came alongside him, halting when their shoulders were in line with one another. When he looked to Dawn, her brows were raised in a question, but no word or sound came from her mouth. He motioned to the tree with the squirrels.
After a moment, the furry creatures came scampering down the tree and around its trunk, one chasing after the other.
Both Dawn and Mary gasped. The squirrels froze in place at the unexpected sound, then resumed their play when no danger presented itself.
Around and around they went, their bushy tails flickering this way, then that.
Then, as quickly as they had appeared, they disappeared back up into the cover of the broad green leaves.
“Gray squirrels,” Dawn chuckled. “Sciurus carolinensis.”
“They play.” Mary giggled.
Dawn grinned. “Yes. They are quite playful. I have always enjoyed watching them most in the early spring, before all the leaves come out. Then you can see them bouncing from branch to branch and tree to tree.”
“Me see?”
“Yes, my dear. Hopefully, you can see for yourself come springtime.”
Pain gripped Jacob’s chest. Had the two really been relegated to the indoors for two straight years?
Did Mary not remember what it was like to see squirrels play?
He met Dawn’s gaze over the girl’s blond curls.
Her mouth crimped, and for the first time since their reunion, reality struck him.
Dawn’s fair complexion was so pale as to be concerning.
No longer did her cheeks carry the sun-kissed look of girlhood, and dark circles rimmed under her eyes.
His precious Dawn, who so loved nature, stuck indoors. Without thought, he moved closer and enclosed her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. A soft smile was his reward, and reward enough it was.
He turned his attention to Mary. “Of course you will. Come spring, we will see to it that you see many a squirrel playing.”
As they continued on their course, Jacob remembered that he might not have control over such matters if Mary were to become her uncle’s ward. That was the mission, after all—to reunite the child with her blood relative.
An odd feeling worked its way through Jacob’s middle. The kind of sensation that, as a scout, would have stopped him in his tracks and made him take cover until he could assess the situation. Normally, it was an indication that all was not right.
Jacob scanned all around as he treaded carefully along the trail, but not a sound was out of place from nature’s peaceful rhythm.
No movement drew his eye. There was no eerie silence or bird chirp that sounded as though it came from human lips.
No, this sensation had nothing to do with their surroundings.
It had all to do with Bryan’s Station. And what laid in wait for them there.
* * *
Mary’s body grew heavier where she sagged backward against Dawn, and her little chin nodded downward.
Dawn grinned to herself. Though the journey was still difficult for such a small one, it was a blessing to see her able to rest while they traveled.
Jacob had seen to it that their meal portions had increased as well, so Mary’s strength should grow day by day.
In fact, the horse they rode upon was so laden with supplies for their week-long trip that Dawn had to tamp down her guilt at riding double on the animal.
But the horse was tall and well-built, with strong bones and thick muscles.
Another blessing the Lord had provided in their lives.
While the gentle rhythm of Samson’s steps rocked them, Dawn allowed her gaze to settle on the man that walked alongside the beautiful gray steed.
In many ways, she had yet to wrap her mind around the fact that she was married to her childhood sweetheart, to the man who had occupied her dreams throughout the years. On the other hand, it was as though she was married to a perfect stranger.
As much as Jacob’s appearance had changed with age, so had his demeanor.
In one sense, it was disconcerting, but in another, it gave them an additional point of connection.
For she understood his cautiousness. Evidently, life had taught each of them that they could no longer be the carefree children of youth.
Thankfully, though, it seemed they both shared the desire to allow Mary the joy of a carefree childhood. Such was a privilege Mary had not known before.
But now? The sense of wonder upon her face as she watched the butterfly and her bubbling joy at seeing the squirrels were infectious.
Dawn smiled a secret grin at her husband’s back.
When he had stopped to point out the squirrels, she had feared that he had sensed danger.
Instead, he had given her a glimpse of his old self, of the boy she once knew and who understood her so well.
It revealed the kind, caring nature at Jacob’s core that had stayed with him through the years.
It was such a difference from what she and Mary had been living with, she almost did not know how to accept it.
But she could not be more thankful for it either.
How could she have ever lived with a husband who was not kind?
It would have been no better than the life she left behind.
And even if their marriage was nothing but in name and convenience, at least she had a kind companion to share her life with. And a handsome one, at that.
Once upon a time, she might have believed Jacob genuinely wanted to marry her. But life had changed them, and surely, he was wiser now. Wise enough not to choose a wife with a missing hand. Though he still seemed to look over that feature so easily.
Guilt gnawed at her insides, twisting with each step Samson took. What had Jacob given up in order to take them to Bryan’s Station? “Jacob?”
He glanced her way, his brown brows raised under his hat.
“What brought you west?”
His gaze turned back to the trail as they continued walking, and he shrugged a shoulder. “The whole family came. All of us boys served in the War of Independence, so we were each granted land for our service. Those lands are where the rest of my family is headed.”
Dawn bit her lip. “I am sorry we took you away from your plans.”
Jacob stopped the horse and came alongside her, his expression earnest. “Do not be. They were not my plans. Sure, part of the land is mine. But I had no plans for my life once we arrived. I would much rather accompany you and Mary. Anyway, it seems there may be some need for soldiers where we are headed.” Jacob grinned and shot a wink her direction before turning back to the trail.
Dawn nodded, but she did not return his smile as they continued on.
Was this one way in which time had changed her sweet Jacob?
He had always borne a sense of justice, but had that grown into a desire to go in search of a fight?
Had his time in the war created a need in him to continue fighting the way a winning hand at a game of cards could lead a man to lose his life’s fortune seeking that sensation once again?
Perhaps she misunderstood his intentions.
Maybe it was time she sought to understand who her husband had been in the years they were apart. “You fought in the revolution?”
Another shrug. “I was just a messenger.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I did some scouting, but for the most part, I rode messages from camp to camp.” He turned and shot a quick grin at the horse upon which she and Mary rode. “Samson has carried me all over this country. Keeping him was another award for my service.”
“Oh. Samson is splendid.” With Mary asleep on her, she could not reach to rub his withers, but she fingered the black mane near the reins.
The image in her mind of Jacob as an accomplished horseman, riding this majestic steed over hills and through hollers, was an attractive one.
“And I am sure that was very important work. Many situations would have ended quite differently if certain messages had not been delivered in time.”
Jacob seemed to stand a bit taller then, but he did not reply immediately. “I suppose,” he said at length.
Had he never considered his importance in the war before?
She frowned. That did not explain his desire to fight the Indians, though.
Was it because he had not seen battle in the War of Independence?
Did he feel less than the others? After all, his own brother had been severely injured and bore scars both inside and out.
And…what of his father? How had she yet to ask about his absence?
“Jacob…what happened to your father?”
Jacob stopped and sighed. He turned toward her.
“He was killed in the war. It was his idea to join up. Ma did not want him to, especially when all of us boys wanted to follow him into battle.” His jaw worked.
“He wanted me to stay home with Ma and Jemimah. But he said he needed to fight for what was right. And if it was right for him, then it was right for the rest of us too.” His fists clenched at his sides.
Dawn squeezed her legs against Samson’s sides to ask him to step forward.
The well-trained animal did as he was asked without hesitation.
Once he was beside Jacob, he nuzzled his shoulder with his muzzle, blowing out loud, puffing breaths.
Jacob’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and his face softened.
He brought a hand up to rub under the horse’s chin.
This soft, caring side was the one that had always appealed to her most. But his sense of justice was what had cemented their friendship from day one.
Jacob had found her crying in the meadow after Billy Johnson had made fun of her at school one day.
Without fear, hesitation, or disgust, Jacob had comforted her and threatened to find the kid and beat him up.
After the two of them had shared a laugh, he had attempted to show her how to fish.
When her soft heart could not bear the sight of the innocent fish hanging from the hook, he had set aside his pole and followed her along the shore as she pointed out minnows and dragonflies and shared the name of every wildflower growing on the banks of the pond.
Besides her parents, it was the first time she had ever encountered someone whom she could be herself around and see complete acceptance reflected in their face.
“I am sorry for your loss, Jacob. I know what it is to lose a father. But do not let his words discourage you. Your role was vital to our victory in the War of Independence.”
One side of his mouth lifted in an obviously halfhearted smile. “I am sure.” With that, he turned and continued down the trail.
Dawn frowned at her husband’s retreating back. Had his confidence been so rocked by his lack of proving himself in battle that he still felt the need to do so? Perhaps there was no future for them, after all, if he was going to leave her to chase after some fulfillment only fighting would offer.