Fire Along the Sky (29 page)

He was looking at her, his brow creased. “Do you want to have that conversation, Lily? It's your right, though you might not like it, in the end.”

She pushed herself up on an elbow and the comforter fell away. Cold air made the flesh on her back rise into goose bumps.

“Sometime,” she said. “Not now.”

“But there is something you want to ask, is there no? I can see it on your face.” His hands had begun to explore beneath the bedclothes, light touches on the inside of her thigh that made her catch her breath and tense.

She struggled to make her tone casual. “It won't always hurt, will it?”

At that he loomed over her and showed her the dimples he had kept a secret for so long.

“No if we do it right.” And he lifted the blankets to crawl beneath them.

“Wait,” Lily said, breathless already. “First I want to know . . . what's a grumfie?”

He hid a smile against her breast; she could feel it, as surely as the warmth of his breath and the words he spoke against her skin.

“Shall we stop now and have a Scots lesson?”

And then he did her a real kindness: Simon Ballentyne pulled her down into the cave he had made for the two of them, and spared her from the embarrassment of an answer.

Chapter 18

Inquest regarding the Death of Cookie Fiddler,
Manumitted Slave and Servant

Officials present:
Circuit Judge Baldwin O'Brien
for the Northern District of Hamilton County
in the State of New-York
Constable Jedadiah McGarrity
Ethan Middleton, Esq., Recording Clerk

15
^th
Day of January 1813
Paradise, New-York

Statement of Mrs. Anna McGarrity,
Constable's Wife

Claes Wilde may be a pure idiot for taking up with Jemima Kuick, but stupid ain't ever been a hanging offense and were it, why, none of you men would be sitting here in judgment on him for you'd all have gone to the gallows yourself long ago. It's the curse you bear, you men, being led around by—well, I don't suppose I need to say it plain. Claes has done himself a mischief, but he didn't raise a finger to hurt Cookie and I'd bet my good name on that.

It's Jemima you want to be asking about, for Jemima was here in Paradise and Nicholas was gone away to Johnstown, and that I know for a fact as he brought post back with him and the newspapers too, and a whole box of Elixir of Life, a favor to me, you see, for I do depend upon it as my husband there can tell you. Nicholas Wilde was gone and Jemima Kuick was here, and when he came back he found he was a widower without a housekeeper nor anybody to cook for him or look after his Callie. And just shortly after that it was, that Jemima started taking covered dishes over to the orchard house, she who never lifts a finger for a neighbor unless it's to scold. You listen to me, Baldy O'Brien, you had best let Nicholas Wilde go and look a little harder at his bride, for it was Jemima who profited from those deaths, and no one else. Motive and opportunity is what you're after, as I understand it. My husband there explained it to me. Motive and opportunity, and I ask you, who else but Jemima had them both in abundance?

Statement of Mr. Jan Kaes, Trapper & Veteran

I'm here to speak for my daughter Becca LeBlanc, who's in childbed still and can't come herself to say what she knows of Jemima Southern. Mima made plenty trouble up by the millhouse, back in the days when they were in service there together, she and my Becca. You may call it hearsay if you like, Baldy O'Brien, but young Ethan there will put it down just the same on paper and that's all I care about. So listen. Jemima be mean as a kicked dog, just like her pa before her. Bitter to the bone, that's what I'm saying. Now that be a shame, but as far as I understand it, the legislature down in Albany ain't made a sin of meanness, yet, by God, and wouldn't it put them all out of business if they did? And the other thing I got to say is this: Jemima couldn't have struck Cookie on the head and dumped her in the lake, and I'll tell you why. For all her years Cookie was quick of eye and limb, and Jemima moves like sap in January.

Statement of Mrs. Margaret Parker, Widow &
Unemployed Housekeeper

While you high-and-mighty men are trying to figure out about Dolly Wilde and Cookie and whether it was Nicholas Wilde or Jemima who worked such evil deeds, let me remind you that the first Widow Kuick died not too long ago, and that needs looking into. You had best call Hannah Bonner here to speak for she might know something about that, and while you're at it, ask her to tell what she knows of how Isaiah Kuick died too, for that sorry business weren't never settled. Jemima stood in this very meetinghouse and swore Hannah had killed Isaiah Kuick but she shut up right smart when Becca Kaes—for this all happened before she went and married that no-good Charlie LeBlanc—when Becca told about that letter that went missing. I for one think Hannah Bonner must have it, and you need to see it to make sure justice is done. She's a blight upon the name of good women everywhere—it's Jemima I'm talking about here, Curiosity Freeman, not your precious Hannah, so there's no need for you to make such eyes at me. Jemima Southern Kuick Wilde is a blight upon the nation, and who will stop her, if not you, Judge O'Brien?

Statement of Mr. Horace Greber, Farmer & Veteran

I come here to say, I never had nothing to do with Jemima no matter what Missy Parker might be whispering behind her hand. Writing it down don't make it true. I could say that black's white and white's black and Ethan there would write it down, but it would still be a lie. Just as the things been said about me and Jemima are all lies. Lies up and down and sideways, pure and simple. I can't deny that my wife left me and took our girls with her to Johnstown, but the why and how of it, that's between her and me and nobody else, not even Missy Know-It-All Parker. And if I talked to Jemima now and then about getting her cow serviced, why then that's no more than the normal intercourse between neighbors, and was done out of Christian concern for a widow woman. It shows her good sense that she seeks out the opinion of men who by nature know the business best, don't it?

Statement of Mr. Nathaniel Bonner, Hunter & Trapper

I came across Dolly Wilde on Hidden Wolf when I was hunting. She was near froze and burning up with fever, so I took her home to Lake in the Clouds where my wife and sister-in-law did their best to nurse her. She died soon after. She never spoke in all that time, and that's all I know of the sad business. You can badger me all you like, O'Brien, but you'll get no more from me except this: my daughter Hannah sent along this letter Missy Parker was talking about and you asked for. It's been sitting up at Lake in the Clouds ever since Isaiah Kuick died, in a bundle of papers our Hannah left behind when she married and went west. So you've got the letter, along with the statements she gave Ethan there about the two dead women. If that ain't enough, you'll just have to call Mrs. Freeman to the stand and question her, like you should have done to start with.

Letter Submitted into Evidence
Dated 24 April 1802
Sealed and Witnessed

I, Isaiah Simple Kuick, being in good health and in full possession of my faculties, write this Statement in my own hand with Miss Rebecca Kaes nearby to Witness the seal and signature. My purpose is, first, to clarify the circumstances around the death of Reuben, a young slave boy who has been part of the Kaes household since his birth and who was laid to eternal rest today. I make this confession in order to stop this business here, to forestall retribution where it is unearned, and in fear of further bloodshed. In case of my death, I will leave this document in the care of a person who can be trusted to deliver it to the appropriate authorities when and if that becomes necessary.

Item the first. Reuben died as the result of burns that were inflicted—not accidentally, but certainly without premeditation—by our overseer, Ambrose Dye. I was present when this happened, and I consider myself guilty of not acting quickly enough to stay Mr. Dye's hand. He acted in anger and intemperance, and should by rights be tried for this crime. And yet I have not informed the authorities of this, and in fact, I have concealed it in order to protect Mr. Dye, to whom I am bound by ties too complex to name. I have made it impossible for justice to work its normal course and so I put this confession down here. Further, I do this in the full knowledge that unless he is dead or has left this area, Ambrose Dye must now be tried for murder. I cannot protect him at the cost of more lives, or something as insubstantial as my own comfort and reputation.

Item the second. In the spirit of full confession, I make known here that while my marriage to Jemima Southern was legal, it was entered into under duress. My wife threatened to reveal the nature of my attachment to Mr. Dye to my mother and to the entire village. To protect him and myself I entered into this marriage of convenience. I write this knowing full well that it will cause my mother severe pain and the utmost mortification. While I take full responsibility for my actions, I make no apologies to her or to anyone else. What sins I have committed and what punishment may be mine is a matter between myself and God alone.

Item the third. Our marriage was never consummated. I have never, at any time, lain with my legal wife or had intimate congress with her. The child she carries is not mine. Who may be the father, I do not know with any certainty, for I have never asked and have no wish to know.

Item the fourth. Though the child is not mine, I have no wish to cause it harm, and I am content to know it will bear my name and live its life out as my legal issue, for there will be no other and I am the last of my line. While it will fall hard on her, I require that my mother acquiesce to my wishes in this matter.

May the Lord have mercy on my soul. I, Isaiah Simple Kuick, sound of mind and diminished body, do hereby swear by the Almighty God and all that is Holy that what I have put down on these pages is true. Witness to my signature: Rebecca Kaes, of Paradise on this 24 day of April 1802.

Light hath no tongue, but is all eye;
If it could speak as well as spy,
This were the worst, that it could say,
That being well, I fain would stay,
And that I loved my heart and honour so,
That I would not from him, that had them, go.