The Surrogate Wife. Barbara Leigh

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      “Good,” he said as he saw her progress. “I’m going to go down to the river and bring back the livestock.”

      He caught her questioning look. “I drive them down there when I’m going to be gone a spell. There are good strong pens and the Indians aren’t likely to bother them there.”

      “Do you want me to go with you?” Meagan was aware that he hadn’t let her out of his sight for more than a few minutes.

      “You goin’ to run?”

      “No. What good would it do me?”

      Josh nodded his head. “Wouldn’t be no help to either one of us,” he told her. “You got any questions before I leave?”

      Megan’s eyes scanned the horizon. Her eyes lit on a thin spiral of smoke rising above the treetops some distance away. Was this evidence of Indians? Perhaps a neighbor. Perhaps it was someone who had not heard the accusations and would judge Meagan for herself, not condemn her because of a vindictive woman’s lies. Meagan tried to smother the hope that sprang up within her.

      “What is that smoke in the distance?” she asked.

      “That’s from the chimney of my nearest neighbors, Rafe and Ruth Somers.” Without looking back Josh went out the door and through the yard toward the river.

      The hope fluttered and died in Meagan’s heart. It was bad enough being the slave of a man who hated her for something she hadn’t done, but having as her nearest neighbor the woman whose testimony had brought her to such dire straits was the last straw.

      Meagan measured the cornmeal and water into the pot, put it on the crane and swung it over the fire. There had to be a way to prove her innocence, and somehow she was going to find it, or die trying.

      

      Much to Meagan’s dismay, it wasn’t long before Ruth Somers made her way to the Daniels cabin.

      Ruth was a short woman, with a body that reminded Meagan of the masthead on a ship, full-figured and solid. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight bun on the back of her head. Her eyes gleamed with malevolence as she swept from her wagon and advanced on the house.

      Meagan didn’t want to face the woman and took as much time as possible before going to the door. It was obvious that Ruth Somers was familiar with the living arrangements of the Daniels house because she bypassed the parlor and went directly to the door at the far end of the dogtrot, where she hammered her fist against the heavy boards, demanding admission.

      Reluctantly Meagan opened the door and faced her nemesis. She didn’t speak, but Ruth Somers did.

      “So, you haven’t run away after all. I was about to go to the fort and set up the hue and cry.” She swept past Meagan into the room.

      “I’m sure that would have given you a great deal of satisfaction,” Meagan commented.

      “It would also have made you look like a fool.” Josh’s voice suddenly rang through the room.

      Ruth swung around at the sound of his voice. Her haughty attitude diminished somewhat in his presence. As a woman with a dominant and volatile husband, Ruth knew her place where men were concerned.

      “Josh, I thought you’d be out working the land,” she managed.

      “And so you came to intimidate my servant, is that it?”

      “I simply dropped by to make sure the girl was doing her job and hadn’t poisoned you with her cooking, or stabbed you in your sleep,” Ruth protested, but the words were said with a brittle smile.

      Josh went to stand near the hearth where a pot of stew simmered on the hob. He wondered why he was standing up for Meagan against his wife’s friend.

      Without being asked, Ruth sat down beside the table. “I’ll have a cup of tea.” She tossed the words at Meagan, who cast a quick glance toward Josh before taking the water kettle from the back of the fire. “Now, what did you mean when you said I would look like a fool?” She folded her hands over her belly and leaned back in the chair, looking like a well-dressed beetle.

      Josh softened his attitude toward the portly little woman. After all, Ruth had been Lily’s best friend. It was to be expected that the woman would wreak vengeance on the person she deemed responsible for Lily’s death.

      “Meagan often works the fields with me. Sometimes we’re away from the house from dawn till dusk.”

      Ruth gave a derisive sniff. “That will all end when little Abigail returns, I assume. Although I wouldn’t allow an indentured felon the care of one of my children.”

      Meagan literally bit her tongue to keep from saying that had it not been for Ruth Somers, she wouldn’t have been convicted in the first place. She longed to ask the woman why she had made such wild accusations and was almost ready to do so when Josh guessed her intent and shook his head, silently warning Meagan to be silent.

      Ruth was oblivious to the whole situation and continued her harangue regarding the return of Josh’s little daughter.

      “I think you should let the child come and stay with me. I could give her a good home and a warm and natural family life. She’d even have children of her own age to play with.” Ruth warmed to her theme, throwing her sons into the bargain. “Far better off with me than living in her father’s house with a murderess.”

      “Abbie won’t come back until the end of the summer. By that time most of the work will be done and I will be here in the house to keep an eye on things.” And then he asked what Meagan had not dared to. “Why are you so hostile toward Meagan? You admitted that you hardly knew the girl when you took her to your home, and that you had thought to hire her permanently if she had shown herself to be a good worker.”

      Ruth dabbed her eyes with a wisp of linen. “The girl caused the death of my friend. What’s more, she did so in my home. I cannot abide the sight of her.” She glared in Meagan’s direction.

      “Then turn your back, Ruth, because I’m afraid that as long as she causes me no trouble, Meagan is here to stay.”

      “I’d be more than willing to speak to Judge Osborne,” Ruth offered. “Perhaps I could talk him into hanging her instead of leaving you saddled with a criminal for the rest of your life.”

      The teacup rattled against the saucer as Meagan placed it on the table. She took a deep breath. The hatred and something more that she couldn’t name emanated from the guest. How she wished that Josh would say something more on her behalf, but he only shrugged his shoulders. Perhaps he felt the same way and managed better to contain his anger and his hatred for his indentured servant. Meagan had no way of knowing. Surely his demeanor toward her had been clipped and abrupt as he had given orders as to what he expected done about the house.

      Meagan had done what she could to avoid making Josh repeat his instructions, and only asked questions when she did not fully comprehend what he had said. He had no quarrel with her work or her willingness, and she knew it. However, he apparently had little compassion for her plight, for rather than refute Ruth’s suggestion about having Meagan hanged, he simply went on talking about the crops and the livestock and then to ask about her husband, Rafe.

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