Chapter 7 #2
“Still want to break your back for a plot of wilderness, eh?” Ogden shook his head.
“You’d make more money with horses than you’ll ever make there.
That new gelding of mine is shaping up to be a good goer.
I’ve had a run of luck that you wouldn’t believe.
” He looked at Mrs. Norris, his smile turning wistful.
“You just wait, Agnes. I think my ship has finally come in.”
Mrs. Norris pointedly ignored him. “You heading home today, Josh?” she asked as she cleared the dishes from the table.
Joshua nodded, making Charlotte’s heart pound. Joshua Robertson was heading into the bush. Was he the answer to her prayers? The thought left her uneasy.
“Won’t nobody be heading anywhere soon.” The old farmer spoke up beside Joshua, his somber voice sending a chill through Charlotte. “Weather’s changing. Feel it in my bones. In the air, too.”
Joshua’s chest tightened at the farmer’s dour prediction. He’d noticed a heaviness to the air this morning. “You reckon we’ll have snow?”
“Rain more like it.”
Rain. The only thing worse than snow.
Miss Fulton looked up at this pronouncement, and he caught her eye, hoping she’d heed the warning. Instead, she lifted her chin. “A little rain won’t scare me off.”
The girl only reinforced what Joshua knew by now. She had no idea of the danger she faced.
The farmer took his pipe from his mouth. “Ain’t the rain you worry about, lass. It’s the mud.” He shook his pipe at her as he spoke, emphasizing each word with a flick of his wrist.
She chewed her lip, seeming to ponder his words. Good. If she wouldn’t listen to Joshua, maybe she’d listen to someone older and clearly wise in the ways of the bush.
“Well, I’ll just have to make good time and get there before the rain.”
Joshua shook his head. What would possess the girl to act so heedlessly?
“Miss!” Pete’s excited voice came from the window, where he stood peering out into the stable yard. “Come quick. There’s a fellow making off with your horse.”
Joshua jumped up and was out the door almost before Pete had finished speaking. A robbery in broad daylight? He’d never heard of such a thing in these parts.
The horse tossed her head, sidling anxiously as a man attempted to lead her out of the stable.
“You there,” Joshua shouted, breaking into a run. “Away from that horse.”
The man jumped at Joshua’s command and turned, his hold loosening on the lead.
“Scarlett.” Just behind Joshua, Miss Fulton’s voice rang out across the stable yard. “Come, my love.”
Scarlett jerked her head toward her mistress’s voice in a sudden movement that pulled the rope from the man’s hands. Spinning about, the horse used her body to knock him to the ground before trotting to the woman’s side.
Joshua strode forward, catching the man by his arm and swinging him about.
“What are you thinking, man? Don’t you know what happens to horse thieves?
” Up close, Joshua could see he wasn’t a man at all.
A boy, perhaps sixteen, and judging by his pallor, scared out of his wits.
Joshua’s outrage faded. “Your da know what you’re up to? ”
The boy rallied. “I’m not a thief. Collecting supplies for Mackenzie, I am.” He tossed his head. “I’m a patriot.”
“Rebel more like it. And taking someone’s property without permission is definitely theft. You wait and see if the justice doesn’t agree with me.”
“Mr. Robertson, watch out!” Miss Fulton yelled just as Joshua heard a footfall behind him.
He dodged to the left in time to miss the spade directed at his head.
The tool glanced off his shoulder instead, with enough force to send him to the ground.
By the time he was on his feet again, the boys had reached the cover of the brush where they’d tied their mounts.
“Mr. Robertson.” Miss Fulton arrived at his side, Scarlett in tow. “Are you all right?”
Joshua rolled his shoulder, testing the injury. A bruise, nothing more. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”
She looked over her shoulder, worry creasing her brow. “Who were they?”
“Rebels.”
“Rebels?” Her head whipped back to stare at him. “I thought they were thieves.”
“Sometimes they’re one and the same.”
“That boy could have killed you.” She spoke softly, as though she was reluctant to voice the thought aloud.
“These are dangerous times, Miss Fulton.” He tried to catch her gaze and see if his warning registered, but her horse captured her attention.
Scarlett whinnied and stomped, clearly uneasy.
“Excuse me. I must settle her.” Miss Fulton led her mare into the barn with a steady murmur of soothing words.
Joshua watched her go, frustration and fear boiling in his gut.
She had proof of the dangers she could face on the road.
Was she still determined to continue her journey?
“I never thought the day would come. Robbed in broad daylight.” Mrs. Norris jogged to Joshua’s side, out of breath. “Lord have mercy. What will become of me if folks think I can’t keep their horses safe?”
Joshua turned his attention to his former employer.
She’d taught him most of what he knew. How to read.
How to pray. In the light of day, he saw new lines on her face.
This woman who’d once seemed capable of anything looked .
. . older. Vulnerable. Perhaps she, like the rest of the province, had fallen on hard times.
“Where’s Jim?” he asked. The burly groom ran the stable with an iron hand back in the days when Joshua had lived here. Subdued unruly patrons, too.
Mrs. Norris sighed, another surprising sign of vulnerability.
“He’s got his own spread now. Out Peterborough way.
” And she hadn’t the money to replace him.
She turned to Joshua with a shake of her head.
“Good for him, I say.” The vulnerability he thought he’d sensed disappeared, and she was the Mrs. Norris of his childhood again, strong and invincible.
Her eyes raked him over, missing nothing.
“How did you really make out at market?”
He shook his head. “Not well. I must get more land cleared if I’m to turn a profit.”
“Must you? I reckon you hate cutting down those timbers and hauling them to a burn pile.”
Joshua acknowledged the truth of her statement with a reluctant nod. It was wasteful. The sight of burning trees made his heart hurt. “But it must be done.”
“What about the sawmill? When you were a lad, it’s all you spoke of. You couldn’t have chosen a better plot, what with the river running right through it.”
He gave a short, humorless laugh. “I don’t have the kind of capital to set up a business like that and I never will.” She opened her mouth, but he headed off her question with one of his own. “What are you going to do about her?” He inclined his head to the barn where the girl had led her horse.
“What am I going to do about her?” Mrs. Norris snorted. “You know these trails better than most. And don’t think I didn’t see the way you looked at her.”
Joshua huffed. “You must be getting old. You’re seeing things now.” He paired the words with a lopsided smile, hoping she’d be distracted by his jest.
She wasn’t. “My eyes are just fine.” Mrs. Norris jabbed a finger into his chest. “I think the real question is, what are you going to do about her?”