Nancy Whiskey. Laurel Ames

uncle had given her to book passage on the next returning ship. Nancy only hoped that Aunt Jane never found out that her ship had been captured by a privateer and that she had been nursing yellow-fever victims. A fine adventure and some useful experience, but aunts never saw such things that way. England was so far away. With any luck, they would never hear about the plague. Nancy sharpened her pen and composed her mind to write a comforting last letter before she began her journey to Pittsburgh.

      Dear Aunt Jane,

      You talk as though this is a wilderness. I assure you Philadelphia is quite civilized. Why, they even have hospitals here. And I have been to the theater and any number of other entertainments. I even dined with the French ambassador, and he kissed my hand. But enough of my society fling.

      Tomorrow we set out for Pittsburgh, the roughness of which I am sure has been exaggerated. I have heard there are nearly two hundred houses there. Surely there are genteel folk among them. You need not worry about the journey. I travel under the protection of a family of merchants Papa and I met on the ship. What could be more fortuitous than that they run a regular trade with Pittsburgh? Papa has gone ahead and bought us a quaint inn. I can scarcely wait to see it. I will write you from my new home, unless there is an opportunity to mail a letter along the way.

      With all my love,

      Nancy

       Chapter Four

      Nancy stared at Trueblood’s costume one more time, for that is what it seemed to be. Daniel was dressed in a rough coat and breeches with serviceable riding boots and sat his lean horse like a soldier, but his brother had donned a leather hunting shirt, which looked like it would be uncomfortably hot later in the day. Trueblood’s breechcloth and leather leggings left a large expanse of hip and thigh exposed. His loincloth looked so much like the garment worn by women when they had their courses she could not help but regard it as indecent. Trueblood must have read something of her thoughts, for he smiled wickedly at her and basked in the stares of all the other women who passed the warehouse on their way to market. It was so unlike Trueblood that Nancy was on the point of demanding what he thought he was about when she remembered what she was going to ask Daniel and kneed her young mare to bring it up to Daniel’s mount.

      Daniel watched Nancy’s approach with foreboding. He had been pleased to see that Trueblood had gotten her and her gear to the warehouse in good time. Moreover, her trunks had been got rid of in favor of somewhat more watertight saddle packs, and she seemed to be having no difficulty riding astride. She wore a leather hat, a thick linen skirt and a sturdy jacket and, it appeared, meant to lead her own pack animal. That would not last, but Daniel decided not to quibble over it. What worried him was the determined look on her face, and he could not be sure Trueblood’s outrageous attire would distract her from whatever rub she meant to throw in the path of their departure.

      “I forgot to ask. Did my father offer to pay you?”

      “Why should he pay me?” Daniel asked. “The job is not done yet.”

      “Then I will pay you.”

      “Certainly not,” he snapped, then bit back his anger when he saw her raise her chin.

      “I do have money of my own.”

      “I am sure you—very well. You may hire us as guards.”

      “What is your price?”

      “A shilling.”

      “Is that all my life is worth to you?”

      “No, that is all I imagine I am worth at such a task, since I have no doubt you will be an enormous amount of trouble and I shall make a poor job of it. So you may stay in Philadelphia for all I care, or follow us if you choose.”

      With that, he led out his string of pack animals and proceeded northwest out of the city.

      “Well, Daniel,” Trueblood said, drawing level with him, “you did not handle that very well.”

      “Is she coming?” his brother asked apprehensively, without daring to turn his head.

      Trueblood glanced over his shoulder. “Yes. She has fallen in between my string and Cullen’s. What would you have done if she had not? Gone back and taken her by force?”

      “Oh, no. I thought I would leave that to you.”

      “Such high-handed methods would never work with Nancy. She is used to being in charge.”

      “Then she had best accustom herself to taking orders. Do not laugh at me.”

      “I never laugh at you, Daniel.”

      “Not so anyone would notice, but you derive a deal of amusement at my expense.”

      “As you are so bent on arguing, I will frustrate you by agreeing completely.”

      

      It was some hours before they had passed beyond the environs of the city and the close farms that supplied it Nancy gave a sigh of contentment as they left civilization behind for the sweeter air and breezier expanses of the country. After half a day’s travel they passed through stretches of cool forest, where the ponies’ shod feet thumped on the hard-packed road, the sound echoing off the leaves. Thousands of birds must be flitting about in the canopy, and the undergrowth, she was sure, hid all sorts of wildlife. As much as she was enjoying the new geography, she had the strangest feeling of foreboding, as if they were intruding where they did not belong.

      When the serving girls had heard she was to travel to Pittsburgh, Prudence and Tibby had filled her head with tales of scalping and capture by Indians. Nancy tried to picture Trueblood in a killing rage, but she could not. He was too tame. She tried to picture being carried off by a war party, but the landscape seemed so benign. They were just foolish girls, after all. Daniel would never take her where there was any real danger.

      She tried to picture being scalped, for the victims of such attacks were not always dead when this occurred, according to Prudence. They could, in fact, live some days in great pain, or even some years in great ugliness. That was the most appalling part. The horror, Nancy thought, was in being defaced, in being made ugly and in being made to long for death. She had only been thinking of war in terms of noble wounds. That headless sailor had put an end to any idea she might have that war was noble. Wounds would always be ugly to her now, and the foolish gossip of two serving girls had killed her complacency about their journey. Nancy had known fear on the ship but had found she could face it. She now knew that there were some fears she would carry to bed with her in her nightmares even if they were based in her own reality. These horrors had happened even if they had not happened to her. She empathized too much with the ghosts of those who had suffered. Even knowing she could still help the living did not lift her spirits.

      They rested the horses at noon, but took time for no more than a few bites of bread and a drink of water. Toward late afternoon, when Nancy assumed Daniel would scout about for a likely campsite, he surprised her by pulling into an inn yard and negotiating with the proprietor for accommodations for them and their considerable string.

      Over dinner—a hearty stew—he asked a subdued Nancy, “Are you still hungry? You may have anything you want from the groaning board, some fruit and nuts, or some cheese, perhaps.” Daniel motioned toward the feast that was to be had at a slight extra expense.

      “Nothing. The stew and biscuit were fine.”

      “If you are tired you can retire immediately, and we will make a late start tomorrow.”

      She shook her head, realizing she had to drive off the demons that haunted her if she were to live in this land. “The country is quite lovely, but rather tamer than I had anticipated,” she said with mock bravado.

      “And you are disappointed.”

      “Well, yes.”

      “What were you expecting?”

      She