The Witch of Blackbird Pond - Elizabeth George Speare [40]
The morsel of cake vanished in a twinkling. "Hannah's magic cure for every ill," Nat had said. "Blueberry cake and a kitten." Kit smiled to see it working its charm on Prudence. But there was an invisible ingredient that made the cure unfailing. The Bible name for it was love.
"Why do they say she's a witch?" Prudence demanded, as the two walked slowly back along the path.
"Because they have never tried to get to know her. People are afraid of things they don't understand. You won't be afraid of her now, will you? You will go to see her when you can, even if I'm not there?"
The child considered. "Yes," she said finally. "I'm going back first chance I get. Not just because the horn is there. I think Hannah is lonesome. Of course, she has the cat to talk to, but don't you think sometime she must want somebody to answer back?"
Watching Prudence scurry off toward home, Kit had a moment's misgiving. As always, she had acted on impulse, never stopping to weigh the consequences. Now, too late, she began to wonder. Had it been fair to draw Prudence into her secret world? She felt completely justified in deceiving her aunt and uncle; they were narrow-minded and mistaken. But the thought of Goodwife Cruff made her shudder. Yet Prudence had looked so miserable. She needed a friend. For a few hours those wary anxious eyes had been filled with shining trust and happiness. Wasn't that worth a little risk? Kit shook off her qualms and set her own face towards home and another dull evening.
William could talk of nothing but his house these days. Every evening he must report exactly which trees had been cut, which boards fashioned. Today, he reported, as the family moved inside to escape the twilight mist that rose from the river, he had overseen the carpenter who was splitting the white oak for the clapboards.
"I don't think I made any mistake in deciding on riven oak," he told them. "Of course, two shillings a day is high for a carpenter, but—"
Sometimes Kit wanted to stop her ears. Would she have to hear the price of every nail that went into those boards, and every single nail the finest that money could buy? She was tired of the house already before the first board was in place.
Judith, however, took a lively interest in such details. She had a flair for line and form and a definite mind of her own, and it was plain, to Kit at least, that as William planned his house Judith was comparing it, timber for timber, with the house she dreamed for herself. Her purpose was only too apparent as she made adroit attempts to draw John Holbrook into the discussion.
"I think you should have one of those new roofs, William," she said now. "Gambrel, they call them. Like the new house on the road to Hartford. I think they look so distinguished, don't you, John?"
Mercy laughed at John's bewilderment. "I don't believe John even notices there's a roof over his head," she teased gently, "unless the rain happens to leak through onto his nose."
"And then he'd just pick up his book and move somewhere else," added Kit.
William did not smile. He was considering the matter gravely. "Perhaps you're right, Judith. When I ride down Hartford way tomorrow I'll take a good look at that house. Of course, you never know whether to risk a new style like that."
Oh, for heaven's sake! Kit gave her yarn an impatient jerk that sent the ball bouncing across the floor. Too tardily William bent to catch it and had to get heavily down on his knees to retrieve it from under the settle. Now some men, Kit reflected, could pick up a ball of yarn without looking ridiculous. She thanked him with little grace.
It was Mercy, as usual, who quietly steered them into untroubled water. "What did you bring to read to us tonight, John?" she inquired. "Judith, light a pine knot for him to see by."
In this one thing they were all united. John loved to read out loud, and they were equally happy to listen. For all of them the days were filled with hard labor, with little enough to satisfy the hunger of their minds and spirits. The books that John shared with them had opened