“I never touched her that way,” Nicholas shouted. “Never.”

“No, of course you wouldn't.” Jemima's expression had lost all of its fury, and she looked like nothing more than a weary young woman, beaten down and used up. She said, “You saved that for the likes of me, didn't you? When you couldn't stand it anymore you came to me to get your itch scratched, and now you've gone and married me for it. Fool that you are.”

The meetinghouse had gone very quiet.

Jemima blinked, finally. It looked as though she had been in the grip of a fever that had suddenly broken, for her neckerchief was sweated through and the muscles in her jaw were fluttering.

She said, “The day Cookie went missing and Dolly died I was home doing mending. My daughter can testify to that if you care to fetch her here and ask her before you hang me.”

It was Jed McGarrity himself who came to collect Martha, and with him Curiosity, to speak calm words to the girl and comfort her on the way back to the meetinghouse. When they were away, Hannah saw that something must be done to distract Callie Wilde, and so she set about teaching her to brew a fever tea.

Callie was by nature a quick student and a willing one, but today she was distracted and even clumsy. When she came close to scalding herself for the second time Hannah took the kettle from her and set it back on its trivet. Then she put her hands on the girl's shoulders.

“It might be best to say what is on your mind.”

Callie couldn't meet her eye, which worried Hannah even more. The girl said, “I should be at the meetinghouse with Martha.”

Hannah kept her peace, neither agreeing nor arguing, and settled the girl in one rocker while she took the other. One of Curiosity's cats immediately jumped into the girl's lap and began to purr loudly.

The kitchen was warm and quiet and smelled of new bread and baking apples. Apples that had come from the orchards that Callie's father had planted and tended so carefully. The orchard that he could return to now, to take up his life. Except of course he couldn't, not after the things that had been said yesterday in front of the whole village. Hannah had read Ethan's transcript, and knew the whole of it.

Callie and Martha had only heard those things that the women thought must be said and that the girls could bear to hear. They still had not decided how or when to tell Martha about the revelations in Isaiah Kuick's letter, though that must clearly be done. If they did not tell her, someone else in the village would, and in a way that did not bear long thought. Children used words like cudgels and delighted in drawing blood.

In the evening, the girls had sought Ethan to ask more questions. He had told them a little more, enough to keep both the girls awake most of the night, whispering together.

In the morning Callie came to Hannah and Curiosity with Martha at her side.

“My father isn't going to gaol,” she said. “And I'm glad. But I don't want to go back to the orchard house.”

“You can stay here as long as you like,” Hannah had answered her, and that had seemed to be enough for both the girls. Neither of them had thought of the law, or what a child might be compelled to do against her wishes. But Hannah was not so worried about that; she had the idea that Nicholas Wilde would not argue. He was at war with his new wife, and when men turned their minds to battle they put children out of their minds and hearts. To survive; to come home to them, when the fighting was done.

Chapter 20

Statement of Mrs. Elizabeth Bonner,

Schoolteacher

I had thought to keep my silence during these proceedings, but find now that I cannot, in good conscience. What I have to say has nothing to do with the death of Mrs. Fiddler or even of the first Mrs. Wilde, but with the well-being of a young girl who faces an uncertain future. In just a few minutes she will come into this meetinghouse and answer questions put to her about her mother.

You all know Martha Kuick to be a good-hearted child, friendly and kind and helpful. Mrs. Ratz, I have seen Martha carrying firewood for you. Mrs. Parker, I know that you have called on her more than once to card wool and churn butter for you and found her to be a hard and dependable worker, as young as she is. Though she often came to my classroom hungry I have never heard a word of complaint from her, and I would guess that no one in this room has ever had a cross word out of Martha's mouth, though she may have had cause.

Judge O'Brien found it necessary to read a letter that reveals some facts that are exceedingly personal in nature, and none of our concern. Now we know what we only suspected about Martha's parentage, but I stand here today to ask you to keep the contents of that letter to yourselves until I or someone else close to Martha may have the chance to talk to her privately. I do not ask for secrecy, for I know that is simply beyond the bounds of human nature. Instead I ask for compassion, for charity, and most of all for each of you to think before you cause more pain for a young girl who has suffered much and may suffer more, depending on the outcome of this hearing. No matter what she might say here under questioning, I beg you to remember that she is only a young girl.

Interview with Miss Martha Kuick, Aged 8 1/2 years

Conducted by Constable McGarrity

Q:         Martha, we have just a few questions for you now and we can all go home to our dinners. Is that your mother sitting there?

A:         Yes, sir. You know her yourself, Jed. I mean, Constable McGarrity.

Q:         Jed'll do just fine. Now, tell me this, do you remember the day the blizzard started that Mrs. Wilde got lost in?