Wide is the Water Read Free Page B

exhausted face. ‘Well, so I was … So I was. But that was five years ago. Five long years. First Mark, killed that black day at Lexington. And the house burned. Dead … gone … And then, no money. He kept us all, did Mark. It does teach you who are your friends.’
    â€˜You should have written. Told us …’
    â€˜But I did. I’ll come to that.’ A slow tear rolled down her cheek. ‘It’s all over now, done with, decided. No use looking back, and don’t you waste my time and strength, Mercy Purchis, with questions I may not have time to answer. I did what I did. For the best.’
    â€˜I’m sure you did.’ Mercy proferred the mug.
    â€˜No. I need a clear head for what I have to tell, to ask … You have to understand about Ruth.’ A monitory hand stopped Mercy from speaking. ‘Her sister married. Naomi. Her twin. The strong one. He was a good man.’ She paused, looking beyond Mercy at something horrible.
    â€˜Was?’
    â€˜He said we’d all go to the West. For a new life. He loved Naomi, loved us all. We were his family, he said. He had none of his own. And Cousin Golding was glad to see us go. He even helped with the expense of the trip. We joined a party … a small party. If it had been bigger … But he was always impatient, Naomi’s George. He wanted the world, and Naomi for its queen. Lord’ –suddenly her voice changed, warmed – ‘that was a happy journey. The two of them so in love. Glowing. The other children happier than they’d been since Mark died. Ruth getting over the shock of Naomi marrying. They were close, those twins.’
    â€˜Yes.’ She had noticed, once again, that significant past tense. ‘And then?’
    â€˜Indians. Just when we’d camped for the night. Ruth and I had gone down to the stream to wash. She was always shy, my Ruth. We heard it happen: the war cries; the sudden attack; the screams. Then Naomi came, running, screaming, with three braves behind her. We saw it all, Ruth and I. She bit my finger clean through as I kept her quiet. She’d have gone to Naomi’s help if I’d let her. And died the same. We lay there, hidden, huddled together, all that night. In the morning a few other survivors came out of the woods. We buried them. All my family. All my children. All but Ruth. The other survivors decided to come back east. They’d had enough. There seemed nothing for it but to come too. Ruth was all right with them. It was when she saw her first strange man that she took on: screaming; hysterics; panic. And nightmares after, and waking screaming again. That’s why I was hurrying to her in the dark last night. I’d been trying to teach her to sleep alone,’ she explained. ‘I knew I hadn’t long. Those hungry years had done for me, even before we went west. I thought I’d see the children settled before I died. Well, I saw them settled. All but Ruth. I’ve been worried sick what to do for her.’ She reached out to take Mercy’s hand. ‘I’ve been a wicked woman. Blaming God for abandoning me in my trouble. I should have known better. He sent you. Hart’s wife. He and my Mark were like brothers.’
    â€˜I know. I’ll look after Ruth. You don’t need to worry about her anymore.’ Inwardly she prayed that she could make it good. ‘But, Mrs. Paston, “hungry years”? You said you’d written to us.’
    â€˜Indeed I did. Back in ‘76, when I faced it that therewas no way I could make a living for us all. Prices rising all the time … Cousin Golding took the lot where our house had stood in Lexington against our keep. Said the taxes were so high it hardly paid him. My other cousins had gone west … I was at my wits’ end …’ She was tiring, her sentences running down into little silences, and Mercy held the mug to her lips once more. ‘Thanks.