Thieving Forest by Martha Conway Page A

away to eat her biscuit and cheese. According to Jonas there is only one more stream to ford before the small stretch of woods that marks the border of Gemeinschaft. Very soon now she will meet up with her sister. They will make a plan and leave. If it is Penelope or Beatrice they probably already have a plan. Susanna touches her turkey hen bone again through the pocket of her skirt. She is worried and anxious and hopeful. She tries not to wonder where the others might be. If they are alive.
    “Excuse me, Miss Susanna?”
    She turns her head. Seth Spendlove is standing there with his hat in his hand. Sometimes she forgets that he is from Virginia where their manners are so old-fashioned and fussy.
    “For pity’s sake call me Susanna,” she says, thinking about how they used to play together in one of the little streams near her cabin.
    “I just wanted to say, I’m sorry about your sister. Aurelia.”
    Without warning the muscles in her face seem to weaken. For a moment she can’t look into his eyes.
    “Also, I believe, well...this belongs to you.”
    To her great surprise he holds out a faded black purse. Two hundred dollars, he tells her. To pay off a debt. “One of your sisters asked my father to sell something or other for her.”
    “What could have possibly been worth so much?” But Seth has already put his hand in his pocket as though afraid that she would try to give it back. As if she would! Two hundred dollars! This is money enough to pay back the brethren for the ransom of her sister, and part of her does not want to question the whys of this gift too closely although clearly it is a mistake. The black leather of the purse has weathered to green, and Susanna pulls the drawstring to close it. With the sun at this angle it is hard to read Seth’s expression. For a moment he looks like he is about to say something more.
    “Thank you,” she says, pushing the purse into her pocket alongside her turkey bone. Seth turns his head to check the sky behind them. She has always liked his profile, she doesn’t know why.
    “How has your ride been?” he asks.
    “My horse is a rascal. She wishes me off her back and is plotting at every step.”
    Seth smiles. “The old ones can be the worst. They know all the tricks.”
    She puts her hand on her pocket, feeling the heft of the purse, and smiles back. Down at the other side of the clearing Jonas is signaling, Let’s be off. The sky has become a deep purple and the wind is blowing down in long sweeps. Now the horses are even more skittish. They pass through a small grove of buckeye and Susanna has to concentrate hard to get Step to cooperate. Fortunately Seth is nearby to help, but once or twice she catches Ada smirking.
    When they get to the stream Step jerks her head up in two quick hits, nearly pulling the reins from Susanna’s hands. Susanna stares at the water. It is wider and faster than any of the other streams they’ve crossed. The trees on the other side, mostly pin oak, seem very far away. Winsome Stream, Jonas calls it. To Susanna it looks more like a river.
    “Pretty full,” Tulp remarks.
    Seth reins in his horse. “It’s been a wet season.”
    “Fording might be a problem.”
    Ada slaps at a mosquito. “Papa, they found a hole in my netting.”
    The sun is almost at the horizon. There is not light enough to search for a better crossing; they need to go over now or camp for the night. Susanna watches sticks and clumps of leaves being borne away by the current, but the water itself does not seem terribly deep.
    “Do you want to see a trick?” she asks Ada while they wait for the men to make their plan. Although she does not care for Ada she wants to impress her, perhaps to make up for her inadequate riding. Susanna pushes up the sleeve of her blouse. After a few seconds a mosquito lands on her arm and tries to sink in its pointer. It tries again. Then again.
    “I can’t be bit,” Susanna tells her.
    “You’ve never had a mosquito