Part 15 (1/2)

”Thanks, Ma,” Chickory said. He went to the door and opened it and took several steps, the water rising around his bare feet and his ankles. Something rubbed over his toes and he looked down.

The water was filled with snakes.

Louisa lay in bed with her hands on her belly. Zach had insisted she rest before the social and gave her what she liked to call his manly stare. He always got this intense look about him whenever he wanted her to do something for her own good. If she objected, he would argue and today she didn't want to argue.

The patter of the rain on their roof had ceased and the howl of the wind had faded. Silence reigned, save for the ticking of their clock on the mantle above the fireplace. She liked to listen to the soft, regular tick-tick-tick. It was so soothing it often put her to sleep.

Lou eased onto her back. Zach wasn't beside her; he had been when she'd lain down. She swung her legs over the side and went out into the main room and there he was, at their table, his legs over it, reading. It startled her. Zach rarely read. He wasn't like his pa. He'd never taken to books although he could read as well as anyone when he put his mind to it.

”There you are. What are you reading?”

”How are you feeling?” Zach asked without looking up.

”Fine. If I have a problem, I will tell you. What are you reading?”

”A book.” Zach turned a page.

”My, is that what they call those?” Lou said in mild exasperation. ”Where did you get it and what is it about?”

”My pa gave it to me.” Zach held the front of it toward her, keeping his place with his finger. ”He said we'd find it useful.”

Lou looked but there was no t.i.tle on the cover. ”I still don't know what it's about.”

Zach turned it so she could read the t.i.tle page.

Lou expected it to be one of the James Fenimore Cooper books Nate liked so much but it was The American Almanac and Repository of Useful Knowledge. ”My word. Why are you reading a thing like that?”

”There's a part in here that has to do with babies. About how to be a good father and mother.”

Lou wanted to hug him. He could be such a trial; hardheaded, stubborn, temperamental. Then he'd go and do something sweet, like this. ”What does it say?”

”It says here that a newborn should sleep next to the mother for the first eight weeks. It says that the baby sleeps better and puts on more weight than if it sleeps in a crib.” Zach looked at her. ”I'll rig a cot here in the living room for the other.”

”What other?” Lou asked, confused.

”Well, you won't want to do it in bed with the baby right there, so we can sneak out when it's sleeping and use the cot.”

”It?” Lou said, and then realized what he was referring to. ”My G.o.d. The baby's not even born yet. It won't be born for pretty near eight months. And you're thinking of that?”

”One of us has to plan ahead.”

Lou went from wanting to hug him to wanting to slug him. ”Why you...you...” She couldn't think of a word fitting enough. ”...you male, you.”

Zach lowered his legs and sat up. ”What are you getting so hot about? Here I am trying to make things easier for us. I offered to build a cot, didn't I?”

”Easier for you,” Lou said. In a huff she marched to the front door. ”I need some air.”

Zach didn't help matters by sighing and saying, ”Women sure are p.r.i.c.kly when they're pregnant.”

Lou balled her fists. If there was anything in this world more aggravating than men, she had yet to meet it. She flung the door wide. Here and there were scattered puddles, but for the most part the ground around their cabin was clear. It sat on a slight elevation, no more than a few inches above the rest of the sh.o.r.e, but that was enough. Rainwater invariably drained toward the lake.

Without paying much attention, Lou stalked out and went a few yards and stopped to take deep breaths.

Something hissed near her leg.

Lou glanced down and couldn't credit her eyes.

Rattlesnakes were on all sides of her.

Winona King was wrapping a pie in a cloth to keep it warm. Her husband was fond of pies. Early in their marriage she had learned of his fondness and practiced until she could bake them exactly as he liked them. Her own people didn't have anything like them, and she had to admit, they were delicious. She carefully placed the pie in the basket and was closing the lid when she snapped her head up and said, ”A shot.”

Nate had heard it, too. He was at the table, honing his Bowie. He put the whetstone down and went out, leaving the door open for her to follow, as he knew she would.

”Which direction, do you think?” Winona asked. His ears were much better than hers.

Nate pointed to the northeast at a point along the sh.o.r.e. ”Somewhere over yonder.”

”From Zach's?”

”No. Farther along.” Nate rose onto the tips of his toes, but other than his son's cabin the opposite sh.o.r.e was a vague line of rock and earth, and beyond, the green of the trees.

”Rifle or pistol?”

”Pistol.”

”Did Evelyn take her rifle?”

”She forgot again. I noticed too late, after she was gone.”

”But she had her pistols?”

”I know what you're thinking.” Nate went inside, s.n.a.t.c.hed his Hawken from where he had propped it, and came back out. ”I'll have a look.”

”I'll go with you.”

”No need,” Nate said. ”I won't be long. You can finish getting ready.”

”But if it's Evelyn...”

”If she was in real trouble, we'd hear more shots or shouts or screams,” Nate said. His secret dread was that one day one of his family would be harmed. It didn't help that had hardly a month went by that some danger or other didn't rear its unwanted head.

Winona was torn between going and staying. She gazed across the lake, its surface serene now that the thunderhead had moved on. She looked to the northwest, at the Worths' far-off cabin, and then to the north at her son's, and at the stretch of sh.o.r.e that curled away from their own toward the others-and her breath caught in her throat. ”Husband?”

Nate was almost to the corner. He stopped and turned. It took a few seconds for what he was seeing to sink in. Water covered much of the ground, inches of it, to within five or six yards of their front door. At first it appeared as if the water was moving, but it wasn't the water, it was something in the water. He took a few steps and the shapes acquired form. ”It can't be,” he blurted.

”You see them, then?”