I went with him to chase the goats into the wee shed he had built for them. I had insisted I would not have goats in my house so they had their own cunning little shed and yard. Jacob chased down the billy and then went to collect their tools. He kept them oiled with bear grease when not used, and I saw him fetch the pouch of grease.
When I shut the goats’ door and he’d latched the bar across it, Cullah said to me, “I believe what you said. She’s not truly mad.”
“I know only that she is called mad by the townspeople yet they will listen to her with some respect. Other than when it storms, she seems to me given only to the madness caused by loneliness. I have stayed in this house simply because it made her happy. I need to earn my fare to Jamaica, but more and more the thought of deserting Goody Carnegie saddens me.”
He pulled on his kirtle and worked at lacing up the front. As he did, he cocked his head. “When do you go?”
“I know not. I must have a companion with whom to sail.”
“No honest captain would take you alone.”
“I have left word for my brother. It would be fitting if I could go with him. He went to sea. Years—ago.”
He must have seen the sorrow on my face as I said that. He smiled, saying, “He’ll try to find you, if you have left word. I’d never leave a sister such as you. He will come.”
I felt heat rush from my bosom to my forehead in the glimmer of time it took for his smile to form. I smiled in return. “That is kind of you, sir. Yet, the sea is a dangerous place. I lost my pa to it.”
“You have no fear of staying with the old woman, then?”
“No, but you and your father must come, too. If you sleep in the woods you will be all night in the storm.”
“Would not be the first time,” Jacob said. “Or, we have the goat shed.”
“Please. I cannot bear the smell you would wear. Goody bade us come,” I said.
“You have no fear of staying with us, then?”
My hand flew to my mouth to hide my shock. “Oh. It cannot be. Goody goes abroad during storms and we would be alone. I know not what to do.”
“Bundling board?” Cullah suggested, his eyes merry.
My face must have glowed like an ember, for his flushed dark, too. Cullah followed me to where Jacob waited uneasily at my doorway. He had stowed his tools inside and barred it. “I’ve made sure the loom will stay dry, Miss Talbot. She’s made off with your cooking spider and half the haunch you’d put in. If we’re to eat this night, we’d better follow the crone.”
Without thinking, I laid my hand upon his wrist, hard and muscled as a horse’s leg, saying, “Goody is naught but kind to me, as are you. Please do not disparage her.”
Jacob gave a wan smile, and patted my hand with his other one. “Maybe, as you say, the townspeople respect her because they fear her. Ah, well. Let us go to her.”
As we made our way, the rain held off though the clouds lowered and darkened. Goody fretted in her first room, tossing about blankets. I saw she’d been trying to arrange one to hang in the midst, as if to create a separate place for privacy. “Aha! You’re here. Woodsman, have you got a nail?” Jacob searched his pouch and came up with one. Goody said, “Don’t gape at me, man. Put this blanket here so’s our miss may have a place to sleep. You men will be there by the door and she will have this side.”
We ate our supper as the storm brewed, sharing her good bread, so light it seemed meant for some royal personage. At first we all stayed quiet, the men intent on cleaning up every last drop in the pot. Then Goody laid out cheese and apples. Thunder rolled across the sky like a cannonball across a deck. Her hands trembled. At length she said, “That is all I can do for you. Sleep if you can. I must go. The wind. The wind comes. And the voices. The fairies will not let me stay.”
Jacob stood holding his arms forth, barring the door with his body. “Stay with us, lady. We will help you fight them. Banshees or fairies, the devil himself, whatever it is that comes for you. Then mayhap you will be freed from them.”
Her cry was terrible, rending my soul with memories of being on ship. “No! Did you bring them here to torment me?” she aimed at me. “Are these the ones, these men, be they changelings come in disguise?”
I stood, too. “La, no. Goody, these are the woodsmen come to fix my little house, the one you gave to me. We accepted your offer of safe harbor while the storm rages. Please stay with us.”
The old woman shrank inside her clothes, until she had none of the form or vitality we had just seen. I worried she was indeed the changeling she claimed she feared. At once a crack of thunder overhead affected her as if it bore grapeshot; the contortions of pain on her face grew so dire I feared her death.
Cullah stepped toward his father. “Let her go if she must, Pa. She is compelled.”
“’Tis only thunder, Goody,” coaxed Jacob. “’Tis the Lord throwing stones at bad angels. The wind is but His wrath, clearing ghosts from the trees.”
“They’ll come for me,” she whimpered. “If I am near a fire or hearth, they’ll come. Out of every nook and shadow.”