Now Nicholas appeared out of the cider house door and came hopping and jumping down the hillside toward her, his face alight with pleasure. Callie found herself smiling at that, the simple sight of her brother running through the orchard in summer.
He never slowed down, launching himself into her arms so that she dropped the empty basket and laughed out loud.
“Nicholas,” she said. “Slow down.”
“Where are you going? Can I come along? Do you want me to carry the basket? What did you bring the workers for their dinner? It smells like beef-and-kidney pie. I like pie, but I like fritters better. Lorena made fritters for Levi’s dinner. And she let me have one too. Lorena makes the best fritters, Levi said so too, and so would you.”
“I don’t know that I can remember all those questions,” Callie said. “But let me try. I’m going to see Lily with a message from Simon; yes, you certainly can come along if you like; it was indeed steak-and-kidney pie; and if you fill yourself up with fritters, you won’t want a proper dinner,” Callie said.
That made Nicholas laugh out loud. “I could eat fritters until my stomach stuck out to here.” He touched fingers in front of himself as far as his rounded arms would reach. “And I’d still eat dinner. Wait and see. Oh, there’s Friend Abigail, do you see her? She’s got the longest plaits of all the girls at school and she smells of soap.”
Conversations with Nicholas were like this; he rattled on telling stories at a nonstop pace. Callie wondered if he had always been like this, so full of joy and open to the world, or if that was something new.
She said, “Nicholas, do you miss Boston?”
His brow wrinkled as if he wasn’t quite sure how he should answer. “I like it here,” he said.
“Good, I’m glad. But you must have friends there who you miss.”
“Are you going to send me back? Ma said you might not want to keep me. She said you might send me back. Are you going to send me back?”
“No,” Callie said firmly. “I’m not sending you anywhere. I was just worried you might be lonely for old friends. You make friends so easily, I’m sure you must have had a lot of them in Boston.”
His brow cleared. “Oh,” he said. “Now I understand. My old friends aren’t in Boston.”
Callie hesitated, and he stopped to look at her. “My old friends are in Banfield. I never lived in Boston.”
Her voice came out in a creak. “Banfield? You never told me about any place called Banfield.”
“I didn’t?” He seemed to be searching his memory. “I didn’t tell you about the church or Reverend TenHouten or the farm?”
“No. I thought you lived in Boston before you came here.”
“Huh,” said Nicholas. “I never lived in Boston. You are making a face. Are you mad at me?”
“No!” Callie said. “No, I’m not mad at you. I’m just confused. Can you tell me about Banfield? I’d like to hear.”
Lily and Jennet had got into the habit of napping after dinner in the shade of Elizabeth’s few fruit trees, and Elizabeth had got into the habit of sitting with them until the conversation gave way to sleep. They were still talking when Callie and Nicholas came into the clearing.
“Company,” Lily said, putting her hands on the swell of her stomach. Elizabeth understood that gesture; it meant that Lily was uneasy about something. It might be nothing other than the heat, or it might be the way Nicholas was running toward them. She got up to intercept him, holding his shoulders at arm’s length while Callie came up at a slower pace.
Jennet said, “We were hoping for some company this afternoon.”
“Oh, yes,” said Lily. “Come sit, both of you, and entertain us.”
Over the last month or so, it had seemed to Elizabeth that Callie was regaining some of her old spirit and quick wit. Whether that had to do with her marriage or with Nicholas or both, she could not be sure. Right now, though, Callie let Nicholas take the upper hand in the conversation and only answered when spoken to.
Elizabeth said, “Nicholas, if you haven’t had your dinner you may go ask Anje to make you up a plate. We pulled the first of the radishes today, and I think there are some left.”
“I’m still full of fritters.” He plopped down next to Jennet and said, “Where is Adam?”
“Doing his chores with the rest of the wee monsters. He’ll be by here soon enough.”
Without warning Nicholas put his ear to Jennet’s very round belly, and she squeaked in surprise.
“Nicholas!” Callie’s tone was more surprised than sharp.
“Och, never mind, Callie. He means no harm.” She put her hand on the boy’s head. “Too bad, you’ve missed today’s concert.”
Nicholas’s head came up so quickly that Jennet jumped.
“Careful,” she said, laughing. “It may no be so much to brag on, but it’s the only nose I’ve got.”
“What’s a concert?” Nicholas said.
Jennet raised a brow in Elizabeth’s direction, but it was Lily who answered. “Do you know what a theater is, or a play?”
He nodded vigorously. “Punch and Judy.”
“Of course. Well, a concert is something like that, except there’s music instead of acting. People playing instruments—”
“Like the fiddle? Levi plays the fiddle.”
“Like the fiddle and piano and other things. And sometimes people sing at a concert. I think Jennet was telling you that her baby sings to her sometimes. Is that it, Jennet?”
“Just so,” Jennet said. “When this little one is feeling frisky, he sings to me. Sometime you might just catch a bit of a song, if you’re aye lucky. As he seems to have gone to sleep, you can have a story from me, if you’ll go off and have some proper dinner after, straight away.”
“You needn’t,” Callie said to her.
“But I want to,” Jennet answered. “Sitting under this apple tree on a summer’s day has put me in mind of Thomas the Rhymer.”
—
“Now Thomas,” Jennet began, “was laird of the castle at Ercildoune in the Borders, and though he lived hundreds of years ago, people still talk of him.”
“You’re talking about him right now,” Nicholas observed, and Lily called him over to sit with her, where she could keep him quiet.
“One day when Thomas was a young man he was out hunting near Melrose Abbey when he lost his way. The gloaming was coming on and it looked as though Thomas would have to sleep rough in the heather, when an old woman came out of the woods on a horse and offered to show him the way.
“Now note, my hens, she never said the way to what, and Thomas was too hungry and tired to ask.
“They rode along for so long that Thomas lost all sense of direction and time. His mind told him it must be late at night, but there was light all around, a glowing among the trees.”
“A fire?” Nicholas asked nervously.
“No. Nothing like that. Listen now.
“And finally they came to the very heart of that endless forest and at that spot the path split in two. On the right the path led back to the world as Thomas knew it, and the other—that was a mystery. Between the two paths, in the fork of the road, stood the most beautiful apple tree Thomas had ever seen. No taller than he was himself, but full of fruit though it was long past harvest. At the sight of those bloodred apples his stomach gave such a growl that the birds stopped singing in the trees, and his hunger raged up and it was all he could do to mind his manners. Because as hungry as he was, Thomas could see that this was no ordinary tree. It was then he kennt that the old woman had led him into an enchanted place where man born of woman was rarely allowed.
“The old woman saw how it was with him, and so she got down from her horse and plucked an apple, and she offered it to Thomas.
“‘Thomas Learmont of Ercildoune, will ye eat of this apple? It will grace ye wi the gift o truth.’
“Thomas was very hungry, but he hesitated nonetheless. For who cares to be burdened with the truth every moment of every day?
What of stories and dreams? To always see the truth must be like going through the world without eyelids, so it seemed to Thomas.
“But in the end his hunger was larger than his misgivings and Thomas took the apple and bit into it. And the taste of it filled his mouth and belly both, it was so good. With that, the old woman shriveled up, just where she stood, and in her place a spark of light grew and grew until who stood there but a beautiful young woman, none other than the Queen of Elfland. Thomas was so overcome by her beauty that he kissed her, and together they went down the left-hand path to the Land of the Elves where they feasted for three days and Thomas ate his fill of fruits he had never seen before.
“At the end of the feast days, the Queen of Elfland told Thomas that he must return to his own world, where seven years had passed. Thomas did not want to leave his Queen, and so she made him a promise. If he stayed seven years in his own lands, he might come back to the land of the elves to stay. Because the Queen of Elfland liked Thomas just so much as he liked her, you see, but she understood that such choices must be made carefully, and with a freedom of spirit and clear understanding.
“And so Thomas was sent on his way with the gifts of truth and poetry and music, which delighted the folk of Ercildoune and surprised them as well, for the Thomas who had gone away for seven years had not one but two tin ears, and could no more carry a tune than he could a cow.
“For seven years he ruled his lands wisely, and in the evenings he would sing and play on the harp for anyone who cared to listen. The truth was with him too, all through those seven years, so that he saw things to come. These he put into his songs, and so he became known as Thomas the Seer or Thomas the Rhymer. And that is Thomas’s story.”
Jennet paused, and Nicholas closed his jaw with a snap. “Did he go back to the Queen of Elfland and the elves?”
“I canna say. The story as I know it stopped there. Can you imagine, so much fortune, good and bad, from an apple?”
Callie was smiling, as if she could answer that question if someone would only ask her.
“What kind of apple was it?” Nicholas wanted to know. “Maybe my sister has a tree like that in her orchard. Do you have a tree like the elf apple tree, sister? Do you know its name?”
“If the apple tree had a name, that was never told to me,” Jennet said. “But I suppose you could give it one. Stories are passed from hand to hand, and some things fall away and others things stick as they go. Now will you go and get your dinner? Your belly is growling as loud as Thomas’s.”
“An apple needs a name,” Nicholas muttered as he turned toward the house.
Lily’s shoulders were shaking with laughter and Elizabeth herself was having a difficult time holding her smile in check.
“Such an earnest child,” Jennet said. “He doesna ken the difference between stories and reality.”
“Many never learn that,” Callie said dryly.
“That’s true,” Lily said. “But it’s also sad. His world is a much more colorful one than ours.”
Just then Nicholas turned back toward them from across the clearing. “I know!” he shouted. “I know a name for the elves’ apple tree! Let’s call it the Bleeding Heart!”
“I was looking at her directly, as close as we are now,” Elizabeth told Nathaniel later that day. “The color drained out of her, as though someone had pulled a plug. I thought at first she would faint, but after a moment she pulled herself up and just—walked away. She didn’t even give Lily the message Simon had sent about coming late for supper, though we didn’t find that out until much later.”
“So what do you think this is all about?” her husband asked. “What gave Callie such a shock?”
“I have no idea,” Elizabeth said. “I sent a message down to ask after her, but Nathan came back without a reply.”
Nathaniel was quiet for a long minute. When he was like this, Elizabeth let him be so that he could gather his thoughts.
“It’s a nice evening,” he said. “Why don’t you and me take a stroll down to call on Ethan and Callie. See if we can be of any help.”
“I was hoping you would say that.” Elizabeth squeezed his arm and put her brow against his shoulder. “Something feels wrong, and I won’t sleep for worry.”
“You think this is about Jemima?” He cupped the back of her head with one hand.
“I don’t see how, but I’m afraid it is.”
“I think I could go the rest of my life without another one of Jemima’s surprises,” Nathaniel said. “I imagine Callie and Martha feel like they’ll never get out from under.”
Birdie said, “It’s unfair.”
“Maybe so,” said Nathaniel. “But you’ll stay right where you are or I’ll have to take a switch to your backside, little girl. Your ma and me, we’re going down to the village alone. Do you understand me?”
Birdie’s face was ablaze with frustration and anger. She had folded her lips in so that her mouth was no more than a slit in her face, but she didn’t dare ignore her father. She nodded.
Elizabeth waited until they were out of earshot before she let out the sigh she was holding.
“She is so very hardheaded,” Elizabeth said.
“Comes by it honest. Ow! Boots, take care or I’ll start pinching you back. What? You look like you forgot something.”
“Curiosity,” Elizabeth said. “Maybe we should take Curiosity along with us.”
Nathaniel lowered his head to look at her down the slope of his nose. “You know that’s not a good idea. You don’t want to startle Callie. She needs careful coaxing.”
For the rest of the walk Elizabeth considered what it would look like to Callie if her house were suddenly filled with people.
“She likes Curiosity,” Elizabeth said finally. Nathaniel made a sound deep in his throat that was an admonition. It meant: You’re missing the point, and you know it. She might have pursued this line of discussion, but they came out of the woods to the garden behind Ethan’s small house, and the sound of Callie’s voice raised in anger.
“Then who?” she was shouting. “If not you, then who?”
Nathaniel rapped on the kitchen door and then went in directly without waiting for an invitation, and Elizabeth followed closely.
Ethan and Callie stood in the parlor facing a visibly angry Levi Fiddler. Ethan stood poised as if he expected to have to put himself between his wife and the orchard manager.
“Seems like we missed the beginning of this party,” Nathaniel said. “Callie, Levi. The glass is shaking in the windowpanes, you’re making such a fuss.”
“This doesn’t concern you,” Callie snapped. She was trembling.
“Callie,” Ethan said. His tone was as close to sharp as it ever came, and Callie’s gaze skittered toward him. “These are my family too, and I’d be glad of some help trying to sort out this mess. Do you object to them being here, Levi?”
The muscles clenched and rolled along Levi’s jaw. “They welcome to stay. I got nothing to hide.”
“Well, that’s good,” Nathaniel said. “So let’s set.”
“I’ll make tea,” Elizabeth said. It was a way to be alone for a few minutes in order to gather her thoughts and calm the beating of her heart, and beyond that, she thought, the tea might do them all good. While she stoked the stove and set the kettle to heat she was listening, but the house might have been empty, it was so quiet in the parlor.
Nathaniel called, “No bloodshed in here, Boots. We’re just waiting for you to get started.”
“So who wants to start?”
They had moved to the dining room where they could sit around the table. Levi’s back was as straight and stiff as the chair itself. Callie was curled over, her arms crossed on her midsection.
Ethan cleared his throat. “Whatever it is, I can promise you—both of you—we are not here to find blame or make accusations.”
“In other words,” Nathaniel said, “one of the two of you had best start talking.”
Callie was staring do
wn at the floor. When she raised her head Elizabeth started to see the anger and misery there.
She said, “It’s complicated.”
“Most things are,” Elizabeth said. “But we are here to listen and to offer what help we can.”
“I’ll start,” Levi said. “As I’m the one stands accused.”
“Of what?” Nathaniel said.
Levi glanced at Callie, but she had lowered her head again and she wouldn’t raise it.
“Miss Callie here thinks I been conspiring with Jemima behind her back. I guess she forgot it was Jemima who killed my ma. I’d as soon snap her neck as lift a hand to help that woman. I’ll do it too, if I ever get the chance.”
Elizabeth caught Ethan’s eye. She thought probably her expression looked like what she saw on his face: numb surprise.
Nathaniel said, “You know more about what went on back then than the rest of us?”
“Maybe I do,” Levi said. “But that got nothing to do with this business we got to settle right now.”
“So tell us,” Nathaniel said. “You have got our full attention.” Under the table he put a hand on Elizabeth’s knee, and she covered it with her own.
“It has to do with an apple tree,” Levi said. “We call it the Bleeding Heart.”
Levi talked for a half an hour. For that entire time none of them spoke or even moved, but Elizabeth’s mind raced back over the last weeks, back to the flood and further still. Callie’s grim determination when her crop failed once and then again, her unwillingness to talk with any seriousness or in any real detail about the orchard. What it must have been like to harbor such hopes and to lose everything on the cusp of success. How she had kept it all to herself; how in the confusion and chaos of the flood nobody had seen her distress. She and Levi had supported each other in their common cause, and now something had turned them against each other.
That it had to do with Jemima did not surprise her. She should feel anger, but instead there was only a deep weariness.
Ethan was asking questions about the surviving apple tree, the reaction of the orchardists Levi had called on, the potential for earnings.