Dawn on a Distant Shore by Sara Donati Page A

from Albany to Montréal is hardly the wilderness. It is almost as
well traveled as the London Road."
    The steady rub and
rush on the washboard did not falter. "Don't talk to me about no London Road.
You got a winter to contend with, here."
    "You just told me
yesterday that the worst was over, didn't you?"
    Curiosity sat back on
her heels and wiped her cheek with the back of a hand. "Well, I didn't
know you was getting set to go runnin' off with them babies on your back, or I
wouldn't have."
    Elizabeth managed a
smile at that. "They brought Blue-Jay through much rougher country six weeks
ago, when the weather was worse. And I won't be on foot."
    A long wheeze of
impatience. "What, you intendin' to spread your wings and fly? Oh, I see.
You think the judge just goin' to hand over his sleigh and team to get you as
far as Albany, do you? He'll try to tie you down, and you know it."
    "Oh, Curiosity.
He's tried that before, has he not?" With a sigh, Elizabeth sat on the edge
of the bed where the twins lay, kicking and burbling to each other.
    With a voice much
steadier than she thought it ought to be, Elizabeth said, "If I do not go,
they will try Nathaniel and Hawkeye and Robbie as spies, with no one there to
speak for them. Would you expect me to sit here and wait for news that they
have been hanged?"
    A slight tremor moved
Curiosity's shoulders, but she said nothing.
    "You would go, if
it were one of your own."
    "You are like one
of my own," Curiosity said, calm now.
    "Then help
me," Elizabeth said. "I need your help."
    A long silence was
broken only by the gurgling of the babies. Elizabeth sat on the bed she had shared
with her husband and wondered if he would ever walk through the door again, if
she would ever hear his voice. There was a curious numbness in her, a burning
in her eyes that felt like somebody else's tears. She could have no part of
that, not now. With or without Curiosity's help she would do this. Perhaps the older
woman saw all this on her face, for her own expression softened.
    "I'll talk the
judge into it and get the sleigh, on one condition."
    "I will not leave
my children behind."
    "No, missy, you
won't." Curiosity tilted up her chin, the dark eyes snapping. "You won't
leave me behind, either."
    Elizabeth suddenly
found herself trembling. She folded her hands in her lap. "You would come
with us?"
    Curiosity wiped her
arms with her apron. "Somebody got to keep you out of trouble," she
said. "Let's go see the judge about that sleigh, 'cause I ain't about to
walk."
     
    Hannah's hands would
not work properly. She dropped a bowl, the sewing basket, her horn tablet,
everything she picked up. No one seemed to notice her sudden clumsiness. Her
grandmother and aunt were sorting through clothing, wrapping dried venison in
corn husks, mending snowshoes, getting ready to send Elizabeth and Runs-from-Bears
on a long journey. Bears had gone off to the north face of the mountain to get
the gold; Otter had been given willow-bark tea and sent to bed. Elizabeth and
Curiosity were in the village.
    From across the room
Liam caught her gaze, and gestured with his eyes outside.
    The stable was their
place to talk. In warmer weather Hannah often shelled beans or ground corn here
while Liam saw to his chores. Now it was empty, the horses boarded at the blacksmith's
for the winter; snow had drifted into every corner.
    "Your father and
grandfather will be home safe in another month," Liam said. He sat on an upturned
bucket, his face hatcheted with shadow.
    "Yes,"
Hannah said. She swallowed hard to banish the tears that swelled without
warning.
    "You're going
with her." Liam pulled his hat from his head to examine the inside of it,
as if the worn crown might tell him what he wanted to hear.
    She nodded. "If
she'll let me."
    He laughed a little.
"You'll talk her into it. You've been wanting to go off ever since the summer."
    Last summer. She had
been desperate with worry through those long weeks when her father and Elizabeth
had been