Hope's Journey Read online

  Charlotte walked over to the fireplace and turned the crank to rotate the chicken roasting on the spit. “Thousands of families were broken apart like that. Have you heard of Benjamin Franklin?”

  “I … think so.” Hope felt embarrassed, as she so often did, by her own ignorance.

  “A brilliant man, even though he was on the wrong side. He was a member of the Continental Congress. He invented the iron stove and all sorts of other things. His son William was Governor of New Jersey, a strong supporter of England. The break between them never healed. Benjamin Franklin died a few months ago without ever seeing his son again. That’s tragic.”

  “It is.” Hope thought about the gulf between her and her own father.

  Charlotte beckoned Hope to come closer. Hope approached, carrying the baby. Charlotte whispered. “There’s something I should tell you about Elijah. He’s not well.”

  “What do you mean?” Hope felt a stab of fear. “Not consumption?”

  “Nothing like that. It’s because of everything he’s been through.” Charlotte kept her voice low. “I don’t want to say more than that. Just be on your guard. Do nothing to cross him.”

  “I see.” Hope remembered Ephraim telling her that there are wounds to the mind that the eye cannot see. “Damaged” was the word that Colonel Butler had used.

  When supper was nearly ready and Mr. Hooper had brought back Martha and Jack, Charlotte picked up a cowbell from the mantel shelf. “I have to call Isaac,” she said. She stepped outside onto the porch and rang vigorously. Hope thought the clanging could surely be heard a mile away.

  A few minutes later Isaac arrived home, wet and muddy, with the announcement that he and his friends had been catching frogs down by the creek. Charlotte sent him to change into dry clothes.

  Hope was setting the table when Nick came in. He looked at her with a puzzled expression, as if thinking, Where have I seen you before?

  “This is Hope Cobman, Elijah’s sister,” said Charlotte.

  His expression cleared. “Sorry I missed you when you visited last time. Charlotte told me that you’re searching for your father.”

  “I found him. Our meeting did not go well. That’s why I’ve come back here.”

  “I’m glad you did. Charlotte and I have been wondering how to get in touch with you.” He pulled off his black, wide-brimmed hat—the kind of hat that farmers wore—and hung it on a hook inside the door. He was a tall, big-shouldered man who looked as if he belonged outdoors, although Hope remembered him as a pen-pusher on Carleton Island, organizing the transportation of Loyalist refugees to the mainland.

  “Hope has a plan,” said Charlotte. She gave Nick a sideways look that was packed with unspoken meaning. “I think it’s exactly what we need. They’re leaving tonight.”

  Nick nodded. “I see. I’m glad it will be tonight.”

  In a moment Isaac appeared in clean clothes. The plan was not mentioned again.

  They all sat down at the wooden table to eat a delicious supper of warm biscuits, roasted chicken and fresh peas. For dessert there was apple cobbler. Hope barely tasted the little that she managed to eat. She couldn’t stop thinking about Elijah, her long-lost brother who was right beneath their feet while they ate.

  Nick and Charlotte passed plates, helped the children cut up their food and calmly carried on a conversation about this and that.

  “Before we were married,” said Charlotte, “we took it for granted that Nick would be a farmer. He worked hard to clear and cultivate his land, but every spare minute his nose was in a book. He’d rig it up so he could read while he plowed. Unfortunately, he kept running into stumps.”

  Nick laughed. “Charlotte said my head was in the clouds.”

  “It certainly was,” said Charlotte, “but my feet were on the ground. I’d thought for a long time that Nick knew enough to be a teacher, even though he hadn’t been to college.”

  Before now, the children had not said a word. Then Isaac piped up. “I’m going to be a soldier.”

  Nick looked at his son. “Really?”

  Charlotte spoke firmly. “Isaac, it’s not polite to interrupt while others are speaking.”

  Isaac ducked his head and took another spoonful of apple cobbler.

  Charlotte continued. “When I told Nick that he ought to be a teacher, he admitted that he’d been thinking the same thing. So after he figured out what he’d have to charge the pupils in order to support his family, we sold our farm and bought a town lot. My father helped Nick build the schoolhouse.”

  “I’ve been a schoolmaster for four years,” said Nick. “I have twenty pupils, all ages from seven to fourteen.”

  “I’ve heard it’s a fine school,” said Hope. “Adam Anderson wanted to go to it, but he had to settle for Mrs. Canahan’s Sylvan Seminary for the Young Ideal.”

  Nick started to laugh and then checked himself. “Mrs. Canahan does her best.”

  After supper, Charlotte got the children ready for bed. Their bedroom was just off the main room. While washing dishes, Hope overheard the story of the Three Little Pigs and the Big Bad Wolf, a tale accompanied by huffs and puffs, squeals and howls, and followed by a chorus of “Good nights.”

  Charlotte finally closed the bedroom door and returned to join the others at the table. Nick listened attentively while Hope described the abandoned cabin and Charlotte explained the plan. When they had finished, Nick said, “It sounds like the best solution we’re likely to find.”

  At last all sounds from the children’s bedroom ceased. “Let’s get on with it,” said Nick.

  They rose from the table. Nick grasped one end of the table; Hope and Charlotte took the other. With the table lifted out of the way, two fresh cuts in the wooden floor were easily seen. The loose section of plank was six feet long and as wide as the trunk of the tree from which it came.

  Hope held her breath while Nick pried up the loose plank. It felt as if he were opening a grave. When the plank was removed, the man lying on his back blinked and rubbed his eyes. He raised his arms for Nick to help him rise from his hiding place. After setting him on his feet, Nick kept his hand under his elbow to steady him.

  There was a dazed expression on Elijah’s face. His brown hair was matted and dirty. From the waist down, Hope might have taken him for an Indian; he wore beaded moccasins, buckskin leggings and a fringed pouch, and he had a tomahawk in his belt. Above his belt he sported a green and black checked shirt. But what he wore was unimportant. She saw blue eyes, a pug nose and jug ears just like hers.

  “Hello, sister,” he said. Shaking off Nick’s hand, Elijah took two steps forward and gave her a hug. It felt stiff and awkward, a hug between strangers. Then he let her go. His eyes flicked nervously around the room. He glanced to the left and to the right, even though the curtains were closed to prevent anyone from seeing inside.

  “Could you hear what we were talking about?” Charlotte asked.

  “About the cabin in the woods? I heard most of it.”

  “I have blankets and food ready for you to take,” said Charlotte, “but let’s have tea before you go.”

  Elijah seemed not to hear.

  Charlotte spoke again, “Elijah, would you like a cup of tea?”

  He looked at her. “Tea? That’s a good idea.” He walked around to the far side of the table and sat down facing the door. By the time they finished the tea, it was fully dark outside.

  “It’s safe to leave now,” Nick said.

  Elijah shook his head. “The fire casts enough light for someone to see us go out the door.”

  He refused to budge until the fire in the fireplace had burned to embers. The mantel clock struck ten before Hope and Elijah emerged from the dark house into the dark night.

  CHAPTER 24

  A Change of Plan

  They came to the derelict cabin in the middle of the night, bringing with them two rolled-up blankets that Elijah carried across his shoulders and the food that Charlotte had packed.

  The cabin had
no door. There were gaps between the logs, and the moon was bright through the holes in the roof. Elijah let Hope have both blankets, one to lie on and one as a cover. He sat down on the dirt floor, leaning against the back wall and facing the empty door frame.

  “Why don’t you lie down?” Hope asked.

  “I’ve been lying down enough to last a week.”

  “Can you sleep sitting up?”

  “I can’t sleep anyway.”

  He was still sitting there staring into the night when she rolled onto her side and fell asleep.

  When Hope awoke in the morning, she heard him moving about outside. She rose and looked out through the empty doorway. Elijah had washed his shirt and was spreading it on a bush to dry. Seeing him stripped to the waist, she noticed that he wore a tiny leather bag suspended by a thong around his neck. It was covered with mysterious signs. The bag was something an Indian would wear.

  They sat down to eat bread and cheese. Only a few feet away, a robin was splashing about in the little creek that ran by the cabin. The water sparkled in the morning sunshine, and the woods were filled with birdsong.

  “It’s a beautiful day,” said Hope.

  “Is it?”

  “Don’t you think so?”

  “What’s the difference?”

  Now what should she say? She had waited such a long time to see Elijah. They had so much catching up to do, yet she didn’t know how to talk to him. They were strangers. Except for having the same father and mother, there was nothing in either of their lives that they shared.

  He ate silently, only his jaw moving, staring straight ahead. Surely there was some way to break the silence.

  “When I saw you before,” she said, “I was just a little thing, living in the barracks with Ma. It’s one of my earliest memories. You took me onto your knee and gave me a piece of molasses candy. You wore a red coat with white cross belts. I found it hard to believe you were my brother. You were so grown up! Ma said I had two more brothers besides you. But you were the only one who ever came to see me. I never saw my father, either, until a few days ago.”

  “I know about that,” said Elijah. “I overheard part of what you told Charlotte. You went to Niagara, and Pa said you weren’t his child. But he’s wrong.”

  “That’s what I tried to tell him.”

  “What you told him is what Ma told you. He doesn’t know it’s the truth, but I do. I was there in the months before you were born. I saw for myself. He’d have to listen to me.”

  Hope kept silent. Charlotte had warned her not to cross Elijah. Did that mean she had to agree with everything he said?

  A crumb of bread had dropped onto the grass. An ant, having found it, was struggling to drag it away. The crumb was twice the size of the tiny insect. Hope wondered how far it would go before giving up.

  Elijah said, “When I set out from Chickamauga, I didn’t plan to look for Pa and Silas. Just for you and Ma.”

  “Why not Pa and Silas?”

  “Being soldiers, they were sure to know about me … that I’d deserted. Pa would reject me faster than he rejected you.”

  “Oh, no! I’m sure he would understand.”

  Elijah shook his head. “He’d say I’m a disgrace to my regiment. That’s how soldiers think.”

  “I can’t believe Pa would feel that way. But it doesn’t matter. Even if you wanted to see him, it would be dangerous for you to go to Niagara. There are hundreds of soldiers at Fort Niagara and Navy Hall. You’d surely be recognized. What you need to do now is go back to the Cherokees as fast as you can. You know about Ma. You’ve seen me. That’s what you came for.”

  “I’m changing my plan.” As he spoke he stared straight ahead, not looking at her.

  “You mean you aren’t going back? Oh, you must! You can’t leave your wife … and your baby!”

  “Stop! You don’t understand. If that were what I meant, I wouldn’t be the first white man to abandon his native family. But that’s not it. I certainly will return to Chickamauga. But first, you and I are going to Niagara. I’m not giving up until Pa accepts you as his daughter.”

  “No, Elijah. Leave Pa alone. He’s sick. I don’t mean in his head—at least not just in his head. He has the same cough Ma had before she died.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I was with Ma right to her last day. I know what consumption looks like and sounds like.”

  Elijah did not speak for a long time, and then he said, “All the more reason to go. Listen to me. As a sergeant in a Loyalist regiment, Pa received a land grant of two hundred acres. When he dies, you have every right to inherit his land. But you won’t get it unless he acknowledges you as his child.”

  She laughed nervously. “Whatever would I do with two hundred acres of trees, mosquitoes and wild animals?”

  “You could sell the land if you didn’t want it. Let’s not worry about that. You and I are going to Niagara.” He paused. “He’s my father, too. I want to see him before he dies. Despite everything, he may want to see me.”

  The ant was still dragging the crumb. It had moved its prize a good ten inches from where it began and didn’t look ready to give up.

  “Then I suppose we must go.” Hope sighed. “How will we get there? I don’t have enough money to pay two fares on the packet boat. Even if I did, it wouldn’t be safe. Whatever we do, you must not be recognized.”

  “We’ll walk. I’ve travelled longer trails than that.”

  “It’s two hundred miles.”

  “That’s not very far.”

  “Don’t you want to be back in Chickamauga before your baby is born?”

  “My wife sent me on this mission. She wouldn’t want me to return before I felt it was complete. She’s in good hands with her mother and sisters. But if we start right now, I can still reach home before the birth. It’s early September and the baby won’t be born until November—Freezing Moon, we call it.”

  “Do we just start walking?”

  “Why not?”

  “All we have to eat are two apples and some bread and cheese.”

  “I’ll set snares. I’ll catch fish. We can gather nuts.”

  He was clenching and unclenching his fists. Charlotte had warned Hope not to cross him. And if she went with him, maybe he could persuade their father to accept her as his child. She didn’t give a fig about the two hundred acres, but to hear him call her his daughter would be worth the two-hundred-mile walk.

  “Very well,” Hope said. “I’ll come with you. But there’s one thing I want to do first. I want to fetch my dog.”

  “What dog?”

  “His name is Captain. You must have seen him when you were talking to Adam.”

  “You mean that big black and white puppy with the yellow eyes? Of course I remember him. I just didn’t know he was your dog.”

  “That’s him. I left him there when I went to Niagara, but I can take him back any time I want.”

  “He’s half wolf, isn’t he?”

  “Yes. And the other half is sheep dog.”

  “That mix should make a good guard dog. All right. Get him. While I wait for you, I’ll scout around for a back-country trail through the bush. There’s too much settlement along the shoreline. The fewer people who see me, the less chance I’ll be caught.”

  She set off on the path. As well as reclaiming her dog, Hope had a bit of unfinished business to attend to. She wanted to make peace with Adam. How fortunate that Ephraim had left Adam in charge of the cabin, giving her a chance to see him again! Their parting had been awkward. She had hurt his feelings. She owed him an apology.

  She stopped walking, thinking what else was involved. Did she also owe him a kiss? Kissing the cow had not bothered her. Kissing a boy was a more serious matter. On thinking it over, she decided that she would like to kiss Adam. Having never kissed a boy, she was not sure how to go about it. Hope started walking again. By the time she reached the end of the path and emerged from the woods, she was wondering whether his big nose would ge
t in the way.

  Then she saw the clothesline. It had not been there a month ago. But there it was, a rope strung from one tree to another. On it hung a blue calico gown, a white petticoat and two pairs of striped stockings.

  Hope stopped, unsure what to do next. She was standing there staring at the garments on the clothesline when the cabin door opened and a young woman stepped outside onto the doorstep. She was slim and pretty. On her head was a ruffled cap that did not hide all of her golden curls.

  “Oh!” the young woman exclaimed. She whirled around, turned back into the cabin and shut the door.

  CHAPTER 25

  The Unexpected

  Hope was standing there wondering what was going on when the door opened again. This time it was Ephraim who came out, followed by Captain. Ephraim stopped cold. But as soon as Captain saw Hope, he raced to her, wagging his tail.

  While Ephraim and Hope stared at each other, Captain jumped up and down, desperate to capture her attention.

  “What are you doing here?” Ephraim asked.

  She glanced from Ephraim to the cabin and back again. “I could ask you the same question. I thought you were in Montreal and Adam was staying here.”

  “Adam’s gone home. We returned yesterday.”

  “We?”

  “My wife Philippa and I. I gather you’ve met her.”

  “Not exactly met.”

  “I found her in Montreal and brought her back.”

  So the gossip had been true. Adam’s mother had the story more or less straight. What had happened in Montreal? How had Ephraim found his wife? Those were interesting questions, but too personal to ask.

  “That’s good. I mean, it’s good you found her.” Hope couldn’t think what else to say. Captain butted his head against Hope’s leg, still trying to be noticed. She reached out and patted his head. He licked her hand.

  “See,” said Ephraim, “Captain didn’t forget you. I suppose you’ve come to take him away.”