Resting her hand atop Jacob’s, Kitty answered with a slight tilt of her head. “I hoped you would be happy, but I was…I was concerned that perhaps—”
“Nay, I am pleased. Thank you.” He met her gaze before looking again to Joseph. Eyes instantly flooding, Jacob glanced at the ground. He blinked, not speaking again for several seconds. “I suppose you must leave now.”
Neck tight, Joseph inhaled a long, pained breath before sliding off the chair to kneel in front of Jacob. He cupped his hands on the boy’s shoulders, praying God would mask the agony in his voice with a courage he couldn’t feel but needed. “No matter what happens, you must hold to hope, and I shall do the same. Hope will keep our courage alive, will allow us to make this sacrifice of separation. Can you do that?”
The boy swallowed, nodding quick and shallow. “Aye.” Tears pooled in his eyes. “I shall write to you.”
Joseph smiled his response, then reached around Jacob, pulling the boy into an embrace he prayed would convey the love he hadn’t the strength to speak. Moving back, he held Jacob’s face. “I shall take you fishing when I return.”
Jacob nodded, forcing a strained grin. “Promise?”
“Promise.” He planted a kiss to the boy’s head and rose to his feet, the urge to flee the suppressing sorrow consuming his muscles as he started toward the back door.
“Joseph.” Kitty hurried behind him. “Take these with you.”
He turned to see a large knapsack in her hands. She offered it to him, and he peered inside. Journey cakes and rolls, as well as dried fruit and meat, filled the bag to the brim.
“You needn’t have—”
“I know you haven’t anyone at home to…to make you anything. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. I am grateful indeed.” He’d thought of the fact he would need food, but not how he would c
ome by it. God surely worked in wonderful ways.
Kitty tilted her head. “There should be enough to sustain you until you reach camp, and when you see Nathaniel…you can give some to him as well.” Her voice cracked, but she lifted her chin and forced a smile. “I’ve a letter for him in the bag. If you would be so kind—”
“I will be sure he gets it.”
Kitty reached for his arm, her large eyes brimming and voice faltering. “Thank you.”
Joseph grinned, wrestling back the emotion that threatened to choke away his response. “Of course.”
He reached for his greatcoat and put it on before he opened the back door. Placing his hat on his head, he prepared to leave, when she stopped him again.
“Come back to us. You must all come back.”
Joseph glanced over his shoulder and past Kitty to where Jacob sat on the couch, his eyes fixed on Joseph, his young face gripped with heartache, as if he was ready to spring from the couch and run to him.
Snow flicked Joseph’s face and neck, rendering him motionless with grief. Lord, please give him strength. Give us both strength.
“Joseph.”
Kitty’s quiet voice pulled his gaze away from Jacob and back to her.
She lowered her chin, encouragement in the lift of her mouth. “We shall be fine here. Do not worry over us.”
He swallowed and shifted his jaw before responding. “The conflict will be over soon.” He spoke the words, but hoped more than believed them to be true. “Tell Jacob I will write when I can.”
Turning, he left, raising the bag in his hand with a nod and smile of thanks.
Kitty waved and closed the door, cutting the tie that bound him to that awful moment.
Joseph patted his hand on his horse’s neck before securing the bag at the side of the saddle. Straining to focus his mind away from the boy that ached for him inside the house, he untied Anvil from the post and slipped his cold hands into his leather gloves. He mounted, and with a quick tap of his heels, the animal started across the snow-covered road. Keep moving. Don’t look back. The cause. He must keep his mind upon the cause.
As he moved slowly forward, his mind trailed backward, far into the past—to another time he had been forced to walk away from someone he loved.
He clicked his tongue and tapped his heels again to move his mount faster, as if doing so would help him evade the memories that stalked him. But no matter how he tried, the torturous thoughts nipped at his heels. How had she fared these past ten years? Did her mind toy with the pleasant memories of their love the way his did? Did she grieve as deep as he?