Free North by Night by Katherine Ayres

flirt, Eleanora Cummings, but I bet he stepped on her toes more than once, he was so stirred up. Lucy, what’s going on? What happened out there? What did you say to get Jonathan so riled up? Are you in love with Jeremiah Strong now? Or Jonathan Clark? Or both?
    You must
, must
write and tell me everything. Otherwise I’ll make up stories in my mind. Oh, and I’ve had another idea. Remember two Sundays ago in church? We wanted to do another prank. Well, I’ve thought of one. It’s wonderfullywicked. But I won’t tell you until you share your news. So there
.
    Give my best to Widow Mercer. I’ve written this and will pass it to Nathaniel later today when he comes to take me for a sleigh ride. He’ll give it to your brother for you. Wish me luck with Nathaniel, Lucy. The dancing at the party was wonderful, and I think he’s about to speak to my father. I hope the widow heals quickly, for her own sake, of course, but mostly so I can see you again soon
.
    Your friend
,
Rebecca
    18
January
    Dear Lucinda
,
    I have waited a full week for your reply but have received none. Does that mean you don’t care for me anymore?
    I hope some other reason, such as this terrible snowstorm, keeps your letter from my hands. Pa and I have had to work hard to keep the stock fed and the logs hauled so Ma can keep the house warm and the meals cooked. I worry about you, caring for the widow all by yourself. First fine day, I’ll be coming by to visit you
.
    I’ve got to see you, Lucinda. All this worry keeps me awake at night, and I can’t help but remember the sight of you and that Quaker kissing by the fire. You stuck a knife right into my heart that night, and every time I remember, the knife goes
    Please, dear Lucy. Write back and say you still care for me. Say it was all a mistake and you’re sorry. I promise I’ll forgiveyou. Or, if you don’t still care about me, at least let me know, for we’ve been friends a long time, and this is no way to treat an old friend
.
    I wait for your letter!

Jonathan
    F RIDAY , J ANUARY 24, 1851
L ATE
    I can’t sleep. My feelings churn around inside me so hard that if I were a pail of cream, I’d have long ago turned to butter. First I get wonderful letters from Mama and Papa and even dear little Miranda. The home letters make me so lonesome I have to bite back the tears. Rebecca’s words cheer me, though, and I’ll hold on to her letter for strength, for surely I’ll need it to write to Jonathan.
    What can I say to him? He promises to forgive me, but what if I don’t want to be forgiven? What if his forgiveness doesn’t even matter to me? What kind of girl does that make me? If I really loved him, I’d feel guilty.
    Or else angry. Rebecca said he danced every single dance with Eleanora Cummings. If I loved him, that would make me furious, but it only tugs a little. If anything hurts, it’s just my pride.
    Still, I wonder. So much is happening, and so quickly. I thought I loved Jonathan, but now my heart turns toward Jeremiah. Can I trust these treacherous emotions? And would I be a coward to tell Jonathan of my feelings in a letter instead of in person?
    I must be cautious, but I don’t quite know how. Perhaps a good night’s sleep will clear my mind.
    S ATURDAY , J ANUARY 25, 1851
    I stayed up all night, unable to sleep. I went downstairs and stared into the hearth, looking for answers in the flames.
    Miss Aurelia caught me, worse luck.
    “Lucinda? What’s the matter? You weren’t yourself all afternoon, and now you’ve not slept.”
    “Oh, Miss Aurelia …” I didn’t really know her well enough to tell her, but I needed to tell somebody. “It’s so confusing.”
    She looked out the window. “Morning’s not far off. Shall I brew some coffee?”
    I nodded and watched her make the coffee. It smelled wonderful. She poured me a cup. I added lots of fresh cream and a little sugar and sipped, tasting warmth and comfort.
    “Well?”
    “I got a letter. Two letters, actually.