“I know. I felt so bad about it. I offered to let you hit me with a stick.”
“I should have taken you up on it. It didn't hurt nearly as bad as I made out, though. I just wanted to make you feel bad.”
“You're a devious person,” Fox said with a smirk.
They continued speaking of other Christmases and good times in the past, and Fox was trying to find the perfect opportunity to tell Hannah what she meant to him.
Finally the moment came. Fox reached out and took Hannah by the arm. “Hannah, I wish I knew how to tell you how I feel.” He struggled for words and then grimaced, turning the corners of his mouth awry. “All the words in this language, and I can't think of the ones to say to make you know how I feel.” He pulled himself together then and said simply, “I love you, Hannah. I have for a long time. But it was just a boy's love for a young girl. Now it's a man's for a woman.”
Hannah seemed to be trying to think of a proper answer but nothing came, and finally she shook her head. “I'm confused, Fox.”
“Well, tell me this. Do you love Sion Kenyon?”
The words hung in the air, and Fox felt as if he stood before a judge and jury, but his fate lay not in the hands of a group of men nor of a judge but of this woman who stood before him. He studied her face, noting again how beautiful she was. Her skin was as clear as any he had ever seen. Her eyes were bright and expressive, and now he noted that there was a depth to them that he hadn't noticed before. But it was not her physical attractiveness so much as what lay inside that drew Fox. This young woman was completely honest and fiercely loyal. The man she chose would get all of her. There would be nothing left for anyone else, and Fox yearned for this loyalty to be his.
Finally, after what seemed to be an inner struggle, Hannah whispered, “I don't know, Fox. I thought I was in love with Sion, but now I don't think so. I like him so much. He's such a good man, but I've always thought when I met the man I'd marry, there would be more than that. A woman has to respect that man she'll live with the rest of her life, but there has to be more.”
“What does there have to be?” Fox demanded.
“I don't know how to put it into words. I'm like you, I guess. But there has to be something in a woman's heart that won't let her look at any other man. Something deep rooted that will never change.”
“I hope you feel that for me.”
Hannah answered quietly, “Maybe I do. Or maybe I will. You have to give me some time. I was wrong about what I thought I felt for Sion, but I have to be sure. You can see that, can't you, Fox?”
“Of course.” He put his hands on her shoulders, and then simply put his arms around her and held her gently. Finally he released her and smiled, saying, “We'd better go on home. Your parents will be worried about you. I've got to stay on the good side of them. One day, Hannah, I'll be going to your father and asking for your hand.”
“What will you do if he says no?”
“I'll run off with you like a wild Indian.”
“You're not wild. You're the gentlest man I know, Fox.” Hannah put her hand on his cheek and then laughed. “Come along. I'll race you home.”
****
The next day Hannah rode over to see Sabrina, who was practicing some of the embroidery skills Elizabeth had taught her. Hannah watched Sabrina for a few moments, and finally she turned to her friend and said, “I know you've been worried that I might feel something for Sion.”
“Well, yes, I have.”
“You don't have to worry about that.”
“What's happened? You changed your mind?”
“I think I had some sort of foolish attraction to him. He's so handsome, and he's such a wonderful storyteller. He sings beautifully, and he's such a fine Christian. He's everything I thought I'd ever want in a man, but he's not for me, Sabrina.” Hannah smiled. “I told you once you were jealous of me, and I think I was right.”
“Don't be foolish, Hannah!”
“What's foolish about it? You two have been together and alone for so long. I know he cares for you. I've seen his eyes follow you whenever you come into sight. But how do you feel about him?”
“I don't have time to think of things like that, Hannah.” Sabrina was troubled by the conversation and shook her head almost fiercely. “Until this land issue is settled I have nothing. What if the Continental Congress gives it to Caleb Files? I won't have a place to lay my head. This will all belong to him.”
“That's not going to happen. God won't let it happen.”
“I wish I had your faith,” Sabrina said as she finished another stitch. “I'll marry someday, but I don't know who my husband will be.”
“I think you're in love with Sion.”
“Don't say that. He's my servant.”
“He wouldn't be if you married him. You'd have to release him then, wouldn't you?”
Sabrina laughed. “Of course I would. What man would marry a woman and then be her servant? A man like that I wouldn't have.”
They said no more, but as Hannah went home later, she thought of the expression on Sabrina's face when the question of marrying Sion came up. “She loves him. I'm sure of it,” Hannah said aloud. “She just hasn't realized it yet.”
****
Christmas came quickly as the month passed. On Saturday, the twenty-fourth of December, Sabrina and Sion were sitting before the fireplace. He had been cleaning his gun and telling her stories of his days back in Wales during his boyhood. He told a story so well, better than anyone Sabrina knew. He knew all the old myths and fables of Wales, and she loved to hear his musical voice as he spoke of them. There was a poetic streak in him, and he had a way of putting things that pleased her.
Suddenly as Sabrina sat there, she thought,
Why, we're like an old married couple sitting here. I couldn't have done this when we first left England
.
The thought startled her, and Sion looked up at her and said, “What's wrong?”
“Nothing. Why do you ask?”
“You had an odd look on your face.”
“Maybe I have an odd-looking face.”
“That you do. None other like it,” he said with a grin.
The two sat there talking for a time, and finally Sion replaced the rifle on a peg driven into the log wall of the cabin. He turned to her and smiled. “It's a present I have for you. Will you have it now or wait until tomorrow morning?”
Sabrina looked up and saw that he was smiling at her. “I'll have it now, and I have one for you, too.”
“Wait here,” he said. “I'll get your gift.”
He disappeared outside the cabin, and Sabrina removed the chest from under her bed. She took out the package that had lain there for some time, and when she returned Sion was coming in the door. “Going to be snow tomorrow. It'll be a winter wonderland.”
He had a package in his hand, but she handed him the one in her hand. “You first, Sion.”
“Right you are.” He took the package she handed him and untied the string. Putting it in his pocket carefully, he said, “I'm getting to be a miser. Always saving bits of string and nails that I would pay no heed to back home.” He removed the paper and opened a box. He stood looking at it for a moment before looking up. “Goodness, woman, what have you done!”
“Do you like it?”
Sion removed the pistol and held it almost reverently. “What a beautiful thing it is! Feel the balance of it.” But he did not surrender the weapon to her. He held it out at arm's length and ran his hand over the smooth coldness of the metal. He shook his head in wonder. “A finer weapon I have never seen. It's too fine a gift for you to give me.”
“No it isn't. A peddler came by with it a month ago. I saw it and knew you had to have it. There's some powder and balls for it, too.”
Sion could not get over his wonder at the beauty of the weapon. Sabrina did not think weapons were beautiful things, but she was pleased that he liked it so much.
“Tomorrow we'll have a shooting lesson. You'll have to learn to use it, too.” He put the pistol back in the box and picked up the package he had brought. “Merry Christmas, Sabrina Fairfax.”
Sabrina untied the string that held it and said with a smile, “I'm a miser, too. Put this with the other string.” She unfolded the paper and then gasped. “Sion, what is this!”
“Something to keep you warm.”
The gift was a beautiful fur hat with a flat top and a matching pair of mittens. Sabrina put the round hat on her head, and it fit her perfectly. “It's so beautiful!” she exclaimed. Then she slipped the mittens on and rubbed the fur against her cheeks. “I've never seen fur like this. Where did you get it? What is it?”
“It's ermine. Fox got it some time ago from his uncle, who got it from an Indian who trapped it. He said it's the rarest kind of fur. There were two of them, just enough to make this.”
“You must have paid a lot of money for it.”
“Not so much. Sequatchie made a good trade, and then he gave it to Fox. But Fox sold it to me.”
“It's so soft but so warm. Feel the fur.” Sabrina moved her mittened hand across his cheek. He reached up suddenly and caught her hand in his. “You look beautiful in it,” Sion said simply.
Sabrina looked up at him and said, “Sion, are you ever sorry you met me at all?”
He stared at her with surprise. “Sorry? Why would I be sorry?”
“Because I got you into trouble. You were going to prison because of helping me, and now you're a bond servant.”
Sion removed the mitten from Sabrina's hand and lifted her hand to his lips. He kissed the back of it gently and smiled fully. “Meeting you has been the best thing that has ever happened to me, Sabrina.”
Sabrina was moved by his simple words. Her hand felt like it glowed where he kissed it, and when he released it, she could not meet his gaze. “That's a lovely thing to say, and it's a lovely present.”
“Tomorrow we'll go to church, and then we'll have a shooting lesson when we get home.”
“All right, Sion. If you say so.”
****
The church was full as Rev. Paul Anderson announced his text. “If you have your Bibles, turn to the gospel of Matthew, chapter eleven, verses twenty-eight through thirty.” Anderson waited until those with Bibles found the verse, then read aloud: “âCome unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.'”
The minister's words echoed in the stillness of the room before he plunged into his sermon. “In one sense all of us have different needsâbut one thing we all needâand that is
rest
. But where will we find it? Money can't buy it, for we all know that rich men and women often have terrible lives. And can you imagine any other human in history saying such a thing? Could Caesar have promised rest to anyone who came to him? You well know he couldn't!”
Anderson smiled and said firmly, “I don't know your burden, but I know that Jesus says to bring it to Him. He promises you will find rest for your souls. . . .”
Sabrina listened intently to the sermon. Usually the words of ministers had little meaning for her, but today the message seemed meant for her alone. She said little after the service was over as she smiled and greeted friends and neighbors. She thought of how close she had gotten to these simple people. England seemed a million miles away, and her life there lifetimes away.
****
That afternoon, after a simple noon meal, the two of them practiced with Sion's new pistol until they shot up all of the ammunition. Sabrina laughed at her own ineptness and was amazed at what a good shot Sion was. He shook off her praise, saying, “It's a true shooting weapon. Anyone could hit with this.”
When they were chilled to the bone and out of ammunition, they went inside, and Sabrina fixed a nice meal of venison steaks, baked potatoes, and acorn squash while Sion warmed up and kept her company near the fire. They ate together, and afterward he read her the story of the birth of Jesus from the Bible. As she listened to the old, old story, she felt tears come to her eyes. She had thought so much lately about Jesus the man, and now the idea of God coming to earth as a baby, helpless and dependent on a woman's care, moved her.
Sion saw the tears in her eyes and whispered, “It's a good thing to weep over the Savior, Sabrina.”
Sabrina just nodded and the two sat in comfortable silence as they watched the fire. Sabrina went to bed soon after that, but she lay awake thinking of Jesus, wondering what it would have been like to have seen Him, and found herself longing to know more about this One who had come as a child and had died on a cross to save those who had no care for Him. Finally she whispered, “I have such a burdenâcan you help me, God?” She waited in the darkness, but no answer came.
Maybe it's not for me. . . .
The thought troubled her, and she tossed and turned for a long time before falling into a fitful sleep.
Chapter Twenty-One
Terror at Home
Caleb Files was accustomed to having his own way. Whenever he was opposed, his one impulse was to strike out and use brute force, if necessary, to take what he wanted. His technique had gotten him the things he had accumulated over the years and had bred in him a fiery impatience when things did not go well. He viewed anyone who stood in his way implacably as an enemy, and in the opening months of 1793 Files focused on Sabrina Fairfax as his enemy.
The legislature had been buried under a mountain of requests for title clarification. After the Revolution the Continental Congress had deeded land grants to almost all the officers who served in the Continental Army and smaller grants to those who served in the ranks. Many of these had to do with lands whose boundaries were vague and obscure. They were complicated by treaties with the Indians and conflicting claims by various states.