TWO
Patrick Rowan Boone had the good sense to be born two weeks after his father's return. Daniel was grateful to be home for his youngest son's arrival. He had been fearful that he would be far from Rebecca when her time finally came. The whole time that he had worked to negotiate peace between two settlements who seemed hell-bent on war, he was distracted by worry that his child was already born. He had spent his last day in the camp of Grey Beaver, a Shawnee friend of his. They watched the two settlements with a shake of the head and a sigh.
"Your people seem determined to destroy each other." Grey Beaver said.
"They aren't my people." Daniel Boone said with raised eyebrow.
"That is clearly seen." Grey Beaver agreed. "You leave in the morning?"
"Yes and they'll have to muddle through. I just hope the Shawnee understand that any actions on their part, having nothing to do with us." He ran a hand through his thick brown hair.
"I do." Grey Beaver studied his tall friend. "They seem at peace. Why are you still worried?"
"Oh." Daniel shrugged. "I am anxious to be at home."
"For a warrior, you seem most content at home with your woman."
"I am." He grinned. "Don't make fun, Grey Beaver. I've seen you with White Dove and your little ones."
"A good woman is a good thing." Grey Beaver smiled.
"We are expecting a new one any day. I'm just anxious to return." He confessed.
"Why wait for the dawn then?" Grey Beaver reached out and shook Daniel's hand and turned back to his village and his family as the tall man considered his words and began the work of packing up and heading home.
***DB**
Rebecca Boone had no expectation that Daniel would return before the birth of their child. She knew most women carried their babies for nine months but she never seemed to get that long. When nine months had come and gone she began to despair that he would ever be born. She imagined herself carrying this child forever. It was a sensation entirely unknown to her. She had spent so much of her previous pregnancies, begging for the baby to be allowed to grow within her just one more day. But Patrick seemed to content to sleep safe within her.
Daniel had run to her with open arms, as she had moved toward him slowly; heavy on her feet.
"Rebecca Boone!" He'd called out to her. "You are wonderously and beautifully round!"
"Oh, that's a compliment! You mean BIG!" She had said crossly.
"I'm pleased to see that you waited for me is all." He said wrapping his arms around her and kissing her.
A week later, she was irritable and sharp; easily angered. His patience and kindness only seemed to make things worse.
"Don't patronize me!" She said stubbornly.
"I'm not trying to." He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand wearily. "Why don't you go lie down for a spell."
"I don't want to!" She stomped her foot for emphasis and then had immediately felt such remorse. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I can't . . ." And she'd burst into tears.
"Rebecca!" His eyes widened in shock and surprise, unsure what to say to help her.
"Oh! Leave me be!" She said disappearing in their cabin. He sighed heavily and found himself walking rapidly to the settlement. He gave up any pretense of being a man in control of the situation and headed straight to the Bradley cabin. Matt was repairing a fence in the yard.
"The baby here?" He asked looking up at Daniel. Matt was accustomed to expectant fathers showing up looking for his wife.
"Not yet." Daniel said with a sigh.
"Oh! You've got a much worse problem, then." Matt said laughing.
"I do."
"Women can be perplexing on the best of days." Matt said setting aside his tools and leaning against the fence rail.
"Truer words ain't never been spoke."
"There's nothing you can do." Matt said meeting Daniel's eye.
"Well, that's real encouraging." Daniel sighed. "If I try and comfort her; she gets angry. If I treat her like normal; she gets angry. If I don't do anything; she gets angry."
"She's not really angry." Grace said stepping onto the porch. "She's weary and anxious. You know, Rebecca, Daniel. Her temper's just for show."
"There's nothing you can do." Matt repeated. "The good news is that it can't be much longer now."
"My mind knows it." Daniel accepted. "But my heart is weary. I don't cotton being helpless."
"You should have considered that about nine months ago." Matt said with raised eyebrows.
"Too late now." Daniel nodded. He glanced up to where Grace stood on the porch, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders and lifting a basket. "You coming to visit?"
"I imagine you would appreciate it." She grinned at him.
"You can't comprehend how much." He confessed.
They walked in amiable silence toward the Boone cabin. Daniel appreciated Grace's influence on his headstrong wife. She'd known Rebecca from the beginning, and had seen right through Becky's show of temper from that first day. It had always comforted him to think Grace was nearby when he was away. She seemed the only one who understood Becky's moods.
"It is such a good sign that this baby is waiting so long." Grace said at last, looking up at Daniel.
"I reckon so." He agreed.
"You've been worried."
"Well, it ain't so much worried as concerned." He admitted, and Grace chuckled at the tall man's refusal to admit weakness.
"I was worried." He turned sharply, meeting her dark eyes.
"You were?"
"I'm protective of her. She's suffered enough, hasn't she?" He nodded silently. "And, I couldn't bear the thought of seeing her face go blank and empty again." Grace shuddered at the memory of the past, and Rebecca's stoic response to loss after loss.
"Not this time." Daniel said hopefully.
"Not this time." Grace agreed with a grin. "That baby is waiting so long, he might just walk out when the time comes."
"I sure hope it is soon." Daniel sighed. "I'm happy that this baby hasn't come early, but seeing her suffer so, well, a man feels a little guilty."
"As you should." Grace said with a grin.
***DB***
It was another week before Patrick finally made his appearance. In the end, Daniel was so overwhelmed with gratitude that he nearly forgot to be anxious. He paced the yard excitedly, and gave a shout of joy when the sharp sound of a baby's cries broke the early morning silence. Grace came to the doorway of the cabin then.
"You want to meet your son?" She asked, smiling at him.
Daniel rushed past her to where, Rebecca lay, tucked in their bed, a small bundle in her arms.
"Becky!" He said as tears gathered in his green eyes. He knelt beside the bed and peered into the little bundle. His eyes widened in surprise.
"He's huge!" He said looking down at his newborn son.
"Believe me, I know." Rebecca said laughing.
He looked over at her and leaning across their child, he kissed her. "Becky! You are a wonder!"
"It wasn't all my doing." She blushed.
"My part weren't too difficult." He ran a hand over her cheek. He turned his attention back to his son. "His hair is red!"
"I am afraid so." She sighed.
"Oh, I love red hair." He grinned at her, laughing when her blush deepened. "Ta mo chroi istigh ionat."
"I love you, too." She smiled up at him, and Daniel sighed contentedly, relieved beyond words that he was here; relieved beyond words that this child was healthy and strong.
***DB***
"I just thought having a brother would be more exciting." Israel peered down into the crib where he was rocking his baby brother to sleep.
"He's only two months old!" His mother remarked from where she and Jemima worked to prepare supper. "Maybe you should give him more time." She smiled and winked at her husband who was sitting at the table watching Israel with amusement.
"Well, little brothers can be trouble." Jemima said. "I told you that, Israel."
"He ain't trouble." Israel sighed and turned to climb onto his father's lap. "He just can't do nothing, yet."
"He can't do anything." Rebecca corrected.
"Oh, he can do lots of things." Daniel said, running his fingers through Israel's bright, blond hair.
"Like what?"
"He can wake everyone in this cabin up in two seconds flat." Daniel said cheerfully. "He can make your Ma sprint across this cabin faster than a jack rabbit. And he can make grown men talk like they ain't never learned how."
Israel looked at his father and shaking his head. "I guess it's a start." He studied his brother thoughtfully. "He can make this whole cabin smell just awful and smile about it."
"He can at that." Daniel said laughing.
"Israel Boone!" Rebecca said sharply. "Gentlemen don't speak of such things!"
"Well, he's got a point, Becky." Daniel grinned at his wife, who waved a towel at him and turned back to her work.
"He can make us all smile, too." Israel added thoughtfully. "I guess he ain't so bad."
"Give him time." Daniel repeated. "You two will be causing havoc for your Ma 'fore you know it."
"I don't doubt that!" Becky agreed.
***DB***
"I am happy to report that he looks more like Rebecca." Mingo said lifting Patrick up into his arms.
"I should be insulted, Mingo, but I agree." Daniel said to his friend.
"Well, you have to face facts, Daniel. Rebecca is much better looking than you. She always has been."
"Oh, stuff and nonsense." Rebecca said with a wave of hand from where she sat in her rocking chair, knitting. "You two."
"Ah, you've made her blush, Mingo!" Daniel laughed and winked at his wife. "I'll tell you a little secret. She might be tough of as iron, but Mrs. Boone's a tad bit vain."
"I am not!"
"It's alright, darlin'. Everyone's got feet of clay." He laughed. "You see any other woman shrink down that small right after their baby's born? Becky Boone won't cotton to not looking her finest - be it Indian attack, flood, fire or newborn son."
"Well, I've had my fair share of all of those."
"That's true." Mingo agreed. Patrick began to fuss and cry, and Mingo crossed to where Rebecca sat. She set her knitting aside and took her son into her arms.
"He's hungry." She said rising.
"Stay put, ah grah." Daniel said. "No need for you to leave that warm fire. Mingo and I were gonna head over to the fort."
"You'll stay for supper though, won't you?" She asked Mingo.
"I was hoping." Mingo admitted.
"You stay as long as you like."
"You need anything?" Daniel asked her, but she shook her head. Her face was down, as she gazed at Patrick who suckled her finger. A soft smile rested on her peaceful features, and Daniel inhaled sharply, struck by her beauty. Ignoring, Mingo, he crossed to her and kissed her cheek. "We'll be back, darlin'." She smiled up at him and he remembered Grey Beaver's words. A good woman is a good thing.
***DB***
"I know that look, Daniel, and don't start." Mingo said as they turned from the Boone cabin.
"What?" Daniel asked.
"Don't pretend that you aren't going to talk about finding me a wife."
"You ought to marry, Mingo." Daniel said. "You are a nice enough fella, and being married is . . . well, it's a wonderous thing."
"I shall remind you of that next time you are hiding out from Rebecca's temper." Mingo raised his eyebrows at his tall friend.
"Oh, well, her temper's not so much." Daniel said dismissively.
Mingo laughed out loud. "You are swept up in a cloud of joy, Daniel." He shook his head. "Still, it is good to see you both so happy. I am pleased that Patrick is so healthy and strong."
"He is!" Daniel remarked. "He's the happiest baby, too. He doesn't hardly fuss, and is always smiling. He reminds me of James."
Mingo was surprised to hear Daniel speak so easily of their oldest child, lost long ago. He rarely did. In fact, he never spoke of any of the lost children. What Mingo knew of them came from overheard conversations in the fort. The only time Daniel had remarked on it was to spill the whole terrible story of James' death and right after Elizabeth, MIngo had come to the cabin to find Rebecca alone. She said nothing, but everything about her radiated worry for Daniel, and so he had left to search for him - finding him at last in a small clearing. The two friends had said nothing as Mingo sat beside him in the dark woods. After a long time, Daniel had sighed and finally said, "I can't manage her heart gettin' broke like that."
He was happy to see them so joyful. Much as it pained Daniel to see Rebecca suffer, it pained Mingo to see his good friends battle grief. He smiled at Daniel as they reached the gates of the fort.
"Now, why were we headed to the fort?" He asked.
"So, I can brag about my new son!" Daniel said clapping his friend of the back. "And to see if there are any prospects for a wife for you."
"See! I knew it!" Mingo said turning and pointing at Daniel. "You were thinking about it."
"I never said I weren't." Daniel said with a laugh. "You're just scared of getting married, Mingo. It's alright. You can admit it to me. But it is a little silly; strong warrior such as yourself being scared of girls."
"You better watch it." Mingo warned his friend. "I'm being patient with you so as not to interfere with this joyous time, but you keep teasing me, and I'll start telling all the stories I know of Daniel Boone. You want folks to hear about the time that skunk chased you up a tree?"
"Don't be mean-spirited, Mingo or I'll tell the Widow Perkins you've taken an interest." He grinned maliciously.
"I suggest we call a truce!" Mingo replied.
They entered the gates of the fort and headed into the tavern where they were warmly greeted. It seemed that everyone was happy to offer their congratulations to Daniel. Several rounds of Blue Thunder were shared and it was well after dark that Daniel and Mingo headed back to the Boone cabin. Daniel looked up into the clear sky and began to sober as he realized how very late it was; how very late he was.
"Mingo, I fear we may be in for a mite of trouble. You go in first. Becky's less likely to holler at you."
"Oh, no! I'm not going in at all! I'm going to my lean-to. You are on your own."
"You'd abandon me! What kind of friendship is that?"
"It wouldn't be proper to go calling at this time of night. Anyone with any manners knows that, Daniel. Besides, I'm a little afraid of Rebecca's temper."
"Maybe I'll go with you to your lean-to." Daniel considered.
"No." Mingo said sternly, pushing the tall man toward the front steps. "Go on now."
"I don't think I ought to." Daniel hesitated. "I'll only wake everyone up."
"I doubt Rebecca is asleep." Mingo told him. "Besides, you were just telling me that marriage is wonderous. Now go on, enjoy all that wonder."
"Mingo, I'll remember this." Daniel said pointing a long finger at the Cherokee's chest. "'Til my dying day, I'll remember how you abandoned me in my hour of need and threw my own words back in my face."
Mingo laughed. "Remember it all you want, but I am going to my lean-to. Good night, Daniel and may God have mercy on you."
"Good night, Mingo. I sure hope your sleep is easy knowing that you've failed a good friend."
"Thank you." Mingo said with a grin. "I hope to." He turned and walked away as Daniel Boone, brave trailblazer, steeled himself to face his wife.
Daniel pushed the door open slowly, hoping against hope that she'd gone to bed angry. He winced when he saw the china and the candlesticks on the table. She had, no doubt, prepared a fine dinner for them.
"Home at last then." Her voice sliced through the quiet of the cabin.
"Yes, I, uh, well . . ." He stammered, closing the door behind him. "I lost track of time and . . ."
"I can smell that Blue Thunder from here, Daniel Boone!" Her voice was quiet, but cold as a December morning.
"Yes." He admitted. "Some of the fellas wanted to congratulate me, and they . . ."
"Congratulate you?" Her voice rose in surprise. "It was you that suffered through those hours of labor?"
"I see your point, but Becky, it would've been impolite to refuse them." He struggled to find the right words to soothe her temper.
"I cooked all afternoon! I was hoping we could all . . ." She sighed, stopping herself. "Never mind. I don't want to be the kind of wife who nags." She rose stiffly. "I'll turn in."
"You don't nag." He said to her. "And I should've come home. I knew you were fixing us a nice supper. It was wrong of me, Becky. You should be angry." He stepped in front of her, blocking her path to their room.
"You've a right to celebrate." She said softly. "You must be so relieved to have the chance to share good news for once, and not be trapped in this cabin trying to comfort me."
"Rebecca, what are you thinking?" He asked utterly confused by her.
"Nothing." She looked up at him. "It's nothing." She shook her head at him.
"It isn't nothing. I'm sorry I was late. I'm sorry I drank too much."
"It isn't that. I knew that you might be gone awhile. You hadn't been to the fort since Patrick was born. I guess I had too much time to think while I was waiting for you." She sighed.
"And what is it you are thinking?" He asked her.
"I don't know. I guess, just that I don't want to be the kind of wife who nags and complains. I know those last few days before Patrick was born weren't easy. I am sorry that I was so . . ."
Daniel laughed out loud and then hugged Rebecca to him. "Darlin' let me make sure I've got things straight - you are apologizing to me? I stayed out late. Didn't send word. Didn't show up for supper. I drank too much and tried to sneak in like a boy late for his chores - and you are apologizing to me?"
"I just don't ever want to . . ." She bit the corner of her lip and drawing in a deep breath met his eyes at last. "I know you'd rather be off exploring. I know you'd rather be blazing a new trail. I don't want to make you regret coming out of those woods to me."
Her voice was soft and unsure. He stepped back from her in surprise. They'd been married nearly ten years and yet she held this secret fear in her heart.
"Rebecca Anne Boone!" His voice was thick with emotion. "You've been at my side all these years, and you worry I might not come home to you? I'm ashamed."
She had turned away from him, but at these last words she looked up sharply.
"What . . ." She began but he interrupted her.
"I'm ashamed to have done such a poor job of being husband to you that you wouldn't know that it isn't those woods the are tucked inside my heart." He stepped back to her, his hands on her shoulders. He reached out with a gentle hand, lifting her chin so that he could look into her beautiful eyes. "I don't come home to you out of obligation, Becky. I'm not running home because I fear your anger. I'm running home because my legs can't get me here fast enough. I'm running home because you are my truest companion and my nighest friend. Thou art mine own heart." He shook his head at her and laughing at himself said, "No one else on this whole wide world is so deep in my heart they unlock all those Quaker words I buried when I was just a boy."
"You must think I'm silly." She said and sighing she rested her head against his shoulder. "I don't know why I sometimes feel so . . . I do believe you, Daniel. I know you. Sometimes, I just . . ."
"I'm not like him, Rebecca." He said softly, his hand brushing the hair away from her face.
"I know that." She swallowed down tears, and looked up at him. "Maybe we shouldn't have named him Patrick. I don't know what I was thinking."
"It was your grandfather's name, too, Becky. And as to Timothy Patrick Bryan, well, he is who he is. We can't change that. Although, if I could . . ." He shook his head. "There's an ocean of changes I'd make."
"I thought it would be like redemption." She sighed. "Naming Patrick would mean I'd let go of the past and forgiven him."
"He's your father, Becky. He does the best he can, and as to the past, you know he regrets it."
"I know." She moved closer in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry it has cast such a long shadow over me. You are right. When I get to worrying about you coming home, it isn't really you I'm thinking of at all. It's him; and me standing all alone at the dock waiting to be sold."
He could see her as she must have been then; small, defenseless, alone. It filled him with a dark and bitter rage to think of that day. Her mother barely laid to rest, and she, all of ten years old, ripped from her home, her sister, her life - to pay off her father's debts. He thought of the way that Jemima would stand at the edge of the porch scanning the horizon for a glimpse of him. She would run to him with arms outstretched when he came into view; ready to be lifted up into his arms and given a kiss; always expecting his return. Rebecca must have felt the same way; always hoping, always trusting.
Her father had found her recently - travelled an ocean and a continent to find her, but had disappeared almost as quickly as he'd arrived. Though they had managed a kind of peace, he still felt a slow, simmering anger toward the man who had so wounded his wife. He didn't really understand how deep the wounding went until she quietly revealed her secret fears - like tonight.
"You aren't the one who should be apologizing, Becky. And it is redemption." He smiled thinking of Patrick's loving and happy countenance. "Your baby boy is sweet, trusting and good. He is happy, darlin'. He is happy because he is confident in his mother's love."
"His father's too." She whispered softly. "You'd never leave him alone in his hour of need."
She rested her head against his broad shoulder, and he could feel all the muscles in her neck and shoulders relax; finally at peace. "Sometimes it is difficult to believe." She confessed to him.
"What is?" He asked her.
"That I am here now, with you. I have a house with books and China plates, and three sweet children. I can't believe that you would choose me." She looked up into his green eyes. "They said I was just a bound girl. A debtor, no account Irish girl who should keep her mouth closed and know her place."
"No." He shook his head angrily. "They got it wrong, Rebecca. You are Rebecca Anne Bryan Boone, prettiest gal in the new world. People travel miles just to get a whiff of your stew - not too mention that you got the truest and straightest shot in all of Kentuck. You are the sweetest wife, and mother. You are my beloved and they named a whole settlement after you. That fort's got your name on it, ah grah."
"That's your name, Daniel." She said giving his shoulder a light push. "The name you gave me."
"But it wasn't me they were thinking of when they put that sign up high." He kissed her cheek. "Now, come on, darlin', it is late and you must be tuckered out. That youngest boy of yours will wake up soon. Now's your chance to get a little bit of sleep 'fore he does." He guided her gently to the curtain that separated their room from the main cabin.
She fell quickly asleep, nestled safe in his arms, but he was awake long into the night wondering where his father-in-law was just now. He thought of his own dear, sweet children and prayed that they would be confident in his love for all time; he prayed that they would never feel the piercing sting of abandonment. He prayed that whatever hour of need they faced, they would find him at their side; strong, reassuring, and protective.
And yet, soon, he would fail them all.