Into the Wilderness by Sara Donati Page A

turned from side to side. She did not know what worried her more: her
father's distant and uncommitted response to what had been a clearly presented
and—it seemed to her—logical request; the cold look on Nathaniel's face at her
father's lack of response; or the look Nathaniel had given her, as if to say:
"You see, this is what you must understand about your father."
    Before
leaving England, Elizabeth had not thought much about the natives; generally
people thought that they had been quiet for so long that they were no longer a
threat, that they had become Christian and had settled into a new way of life.
Elizabeth realized she knew nothing about them, about how or where they lived,
now, or before the continent had been taken by the Europeans. She did not know
her father very well, but she could see that he was torn between his debt to
the Bonners and his terrible love of the land he had acquired with so much
trouble, land he prized so highly that he was willing to sell her in marriage
to keep it in his own family.
    And
there was the matter of Nathaniel's family, his Indian family. His wife, a Mohawk.
She remembered Katherine Witherspoon's knowing look. She understood now that
Katherine had wanted to tell Elizabeth about Nathaniel's Indian wife, but was
unable to do so without seeming to gossip. To tell Elizabeth that Nathaniel had
married an Indian, that he had a daughter who was half Indian, this would be
equal to telling her that he was unsuitable as even a casual acquaintance. To a
white woman of good family, such as Elizabeth was. That was what Katherine
Witherspoon must believe, Elizabeth realized. That was what she herself would
have taken for granted just a week ago.
    Elizabeth
found in herself a deep curiosity, not just about Nathaniel and his family, but
about how they had come to the place they found themselves now. He was like no
one she had ever known, his life to this point beyond her imagination, his
problems beyond her understanding. Elizabeth knew that she could not ask her
father for explanations, and that whatever she needed or wanted to know about
this new place, about the people here, and about her own future in it, she
would have to learn from Nathaniel. That this man, as strange as it must seem,
was her only ally here. That they could help each other: she would do what she
could to advance his cause with her father, and he would introduce her to this
new world.
    She
shifted uneasily in her new, unfamiliar bed, and thought of kissing Nathaniel.
     

Chapter 7
     
    "Well,
some things remain constant," remarked Julian on Christmas afternoon as he
reclined full—length on the settee. "This may be the New World, but
holiday afternoons are as boring here as they are in the old one."
    Curiosity
and her daughters had served a midday meal which had put them all to the test,
and now the Middletons and their guests were gathered around the fire. Elizabeth
had taken up her reading and was relieved to see Richard Todd do the same,
hoping that it would spare her the necessity of another pointed conversation
with him. Mr. Witherspoon and the judge were both drifting off to sleep, but
Julian and Katherine Witherspoon were clearly eager for some activity.
    Elizabeth
looked up from her book to her brother's fidgeting.
    "Don't
suggest a walk, sister," Julian said, anticipating her recommendation.
"My idea of entertainment doesn't include slogging around in two feet of
snow after three servings of venison."
    "Then
maybe we should go down to the turkey shoot," suggested Richard Todd. He
put down his book and walked to the fireplace where he stood with his hands
behind his back, rocking on his heels.
    "Oh,
yes, the turkey shoot!" cried Katherine. She smiled at Julian as if it had
been his suggestion. "It's a Christmas tradition, we must all go
along."
    "Certainly
this is a working day like any other?" asked Elizabeth.
    The
judge roused himself to join in the conversation, stifling a yawn. "Yes,
of course. But we have a