I couldn’t meet her eyes. “Mistress Marshall, we intend to behave with the utmost decorum until we’re married.”
“Intentions and actions rarely line up. And in the event your intentions go awry, I don’t want you to get in trouble.” She handed me a small burlap bag with a spicy smell. “These are cinnamon thorn leaves. You know what these are for?”
I gulped and, impossibly, felt my blush heat up even more. “Yes, ma’am. Our teachers at Blue Spring Manor—back in Osfrid—told us.”
“Well, that’s good,” she said. “Saves us both from an embarrassing conversation.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. As it was, I really didn’t think my mortification could get any worse at that moment. I tried to hand the bag back to her.
“Thank you, but I really don’t think I’ll need these.”
She refused the bag. “I’ve got plenty. They’ve kept me at six kids. If they keep you from having one before you’re ready, it’ll be well worth it.”
I might have tried handing it back to her again, but then I heard a shout from farther up in the caravan. “The eastern tributary! We’re at the eastern tributary!”
Cheers sounded, and I looked back to Mistress Marshall. “What does that mean?”
“It means, my dear, that we’re about to cross into Hadisen.”
Chapter 23
Aside from the tributary itself, there was no ostensible difference between Hadisen and the far reaches of Denham. We crossed the shallow water and continued on. Certainly, the land had shifted from what we’d left in Cape Triumph and its outskirts. Vegetation had thinned out, and the peaks of a low mountain range grew clearer in the distance. The famous gold mines were located in the foothills of those mountains. The lowlands contained greener farmlands, such as those the Marshalls claimed.
We’d been traveling for just over a week when we arrived in White Rock—Hadisen’s capital city, such as it was. Excitement and a renewed sense of energy filled our party as we crossed into the town’s limits. Had I seen it immediately after Cape Triumph, I would’ve been disappointed. But after days and days of trees, it felt as urban as Osfro. In reality, it was still a city in its early stages, with dusty tracks for roads and at least half the businesses being run out of tents. As in Cape Triumph, a mix of people walked the streets, but there were no elite well-to-do in this group. All belonged to the rough working class.
There was one fairly large house noticeable on a hill in the distance, almost as nice as Wisteria Hollow.
“That’s the governor’s house,” Warren said, riding up on his white horse. He dismounted effortlessly. “Where I’ll be staying.”
The words hung between us a moment, and I regarded the fine house with a moment of envy. “Tamsin will be pleased,” I said at last.
He gave me a small smile. “I hope so.”
In White Rock, a new sort of chaos ensued. This was the launching point for all the settlers. Some already had claims and plots assigned to them. They looked over maps and surveys, trying to determine where their lands were and how long it would take to get to them. Other settlers had come here blindly, carried along by a dream. They either solicited Warren’s agents for land to buy or lease, or else they sought work among those more established. Residents of White Rock, seeing new blood, were eager to come and sell their wares.
“I’m going out to my claim tonight,” Cedric told me later. He’d been consulting a map with several other men. “Ours are near each other, and we’ll go together.”
“I wish I could go too,” I said.
“I saw where the Marshall place is. It’s only about two hours’ ride by horse.”
“A regular horse or Lizzie?” I asked.
“Lizzie will do just fine. Let me see what shape the claim is in, and then I’ll bring you by.” Seeing my disappointment, he touched my face and drew me close. “It’ll only be a day or two.”
“I know. I just hate parting again after everything that’s happened.”
“Cheer up, you lovebirds aren’t parting for long,” said Mistress Marshall, striding up to us. “And he’s right—we are relatively close by. You’ll get there soon enough, though you might not want to after you’ve stayed with us. A wild claim isn’t going to look nearly as comfortable as a well-to-do homestead.”
Mister Marshall had been out to Hadisen a number of times, overseeing the construction of a house before bringing his wife and children. I wanted to be with Cedric, but a secret part of me was eager to sleep under a real roof in a real bed—especially since the sky was finally threatening rain. I also wondered what the odds were of taking a bath. There was so much dirt under my fingernails that I could no longer see the whites.
Cedric and I parted with a kiss, and I watched him for as long as I could as I rode away in the Marshalls’ wagon. The scrappy little town grew smaller and smaller, and I caught one last sight of Cedric holding up his hand to me before all was lost in dusk’s shadows. When we reached the homestead, night had fallen completely. I could just make out the house, a cabin built with crosswise logs. From the outside, it didn’t look very big.
As it turned out, it wasn’t that big on the inside either. We had a large common room to be used for pretty much every household task: cooking, eating, sewing, entertaining, and so on. A tiny bedroom to the side was reserved for Mister and Mistress Marshall. Upstairs, in a loft, a partition separated out two bedrooms—one for the girls and one for the boys. I was sharing a large bed with the three girls. I hoped none of them kicked.