Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
ELIJAH
We reached the settlement the next day.
Gray skies welcomed us, the air sharp with the coming winter. Brigit walked beside me, close enough that others would not notice anything amiss. Yet not once did her hand seek mine. Not once did I offer it.
I was glad to be home. The journey had been long, but had gone better than expected, and the men were eager to get to work. They spoke of trees to fell, shelters to finish, and the millstones to set.
I heard little of it.
The few women already settled welcomed Brigit readily, drawing her into their circle with warmth. Patrick did not lack for attention either, passing easily from one pair of arms to another.
I showed her what she needed to know—my cabin, the winter garden, where the stream ran cleanest. She listened and admired everything. I knew she was trying to soften things. But when night came, I made a pallet in front of the fireplace.
The days that followed slipped quietly into routine.
We worked side by side to prepare for the coming winter, and it was easy enough to hide what lay between us.
Work filled the daylight hours. At night, I ate whatever Brigit set before me.
Early on, she tried to draw me into conversation.
I answered briefly, if at all. In time, she stopped trying.
The only warmth I did not withhold was for Patrick. He was innocent in all of this—and he had already claimed my heart.
One afternoon, Silas found me at the edge of the clearing, looking into the woods beyond. I did so often, dreaming of what else we could build here, so it wasn’t a surprise that he found me.
“Usually, I’d ask what future you’re dreaming of here, but I reckon this time it’s not the land weighing on you.”
I grunted.
“Might it be about your wife?”
I glanced sideways at him. But if I were to overcome this, to work things out one way or another, I needed someone to listen. And I trusted Silas.
“She lied to me.”
He nodded, pressing his lips together. “Ah. So, she finally told you.”
I looked at him sharply. “You knew?”
My best friend must have sensed the edge in me, because he held up his hands.
“Not at first. But I crossed paths with the captain of The Providence. He mentioned a woman dying in childbirth.” He shrugged slightly.
“Mix that with a new mother unable to nurse her own child, and it didn’t take much to determine what happened. ”
“And you said nothing to me?”
“You looked happier than I’ve seen you in years,” he replied simply. “That mattered. And I was waiting to see if she’d tell you herself. That mattered, too. I wouldn’t have let you live the lie for too long. Just long enough until you really got to know her.”
“She still lied, Silas.”
Silas shifted his weight. “Aye.” Then quieter, he added, “But what’s in a name, Eli?”
I scoffed despite myself.
“Bowen,” he went on. “Fox. Pirate. Privateer.” His eyes narrowed. “Did any of those tell the truth of the whole man? You know who I am, no matter what name is assigned to me. And you know who she is, too.”
I scowled, but apparently, Silas wasn’t done.
“What would you have done if you’d known then? She made her choice. You’ll make yours now.” He started to turn away, then turned back. “Just don’t mistake pride for honor. Losing her will cost you more than forgiving her ever could.”
He turned and walked back toward the cabins.
I stayed where I was, watching it unfold, Silas’s warning still ringing in my ears.
I missed the easy companionship I had with Brigit, her quiet confidence in my plans. Her warmth next to me at night. Silas was right about one thing. Brigit was a strong woman who did what she believed was right, a trait I valued in others, as well as myself.
I had always believed honesty was to be defended at all costs, and a man’s word had to mean something. But what was truly right? To expose a lie, only to place a woman and child into the hands of a man like Cormac?
How was that different than the choice Brigit had been forced to make?
Any further thoughts I had were interrupted by shouts from the cabins.