Journeyman

by Mark J Rose

  “Good evening, Mr. Miller,” she said. “Come to help?”

  “No,” Matt said with a laugh he knew sounded tentative.

  “I must take these pots to the well.”

  Matt shook his head, saying, “Well, I thought we could—”

  “Hold these,” she interrupted as she began loading pots into his arms.

  “Okay, but—”

  “These too,” she said, adding more. She grabbed the others and said, “Follow me.” He hurried behind her, the pots clinking as he tried to match her pace. He could barely hear above the clatter.

  “Do you plan to ask Father if you can court me?” Grace said over her shoulder.

  “Do you want me to ask your father if I can court you?”

  Grace stopped and turned, short of the well. Matt’s momentum almost carried him into her. He stopped in his tracks, holding his moving and clanging pots. “I kissed you!” she said.

  “I wasn’t sure what that meant,” Matt replied.

  “What else could it mean?”

  “It was only a kiss, and I—”

  “Only a kiss! Do you kiss many ladies?”

  “I wanted to talk to you and ask—”

  Grace threw a pot at him that clanged off the ones he was holding, then turned around and marched to the well.

  “Grace, come back,” Matt called. He reached down, hooked the pot she had thrown, and hurried to follow her.

  “I have naught to say to you, Mr. Miller. A kiss means the same from everyone. It’s the first time I kissed a man since I was fourteen and I can’t believe I wasted it on you.”

  When they reached the well, Matt waited in fascination for her to finish what was turning out to be an epic rant. Eventually, he relaxed his arms and all the pots dropped onto the ground. He closed his eyes against the clatter. “I’m in love with you,” he finally said. Then, remembering the rest of her comment, he asked, “What man did you kiss when you were fourteen?”

  Grace picked up a pot and handed it to him. “Scrub.”

  “If I ask your father and he says yes, then what?”

  “I admit, I’ve not thought that far.”

  “I’ll have to go back to Philadelphia.”

  “Why?”

  “To start a business.”

  “You can’t practice your trade in Richmond?”

  “It’s not big enough for two apothecaries.”

  “There’s work here.”

  “You’d be happy marrying a farmhand?”

  “How long will this business of yours take?”

  “How long will you wait?”

  “It depends on who else comes to call,” she said, “and how well you use me until you leave.” She wrinkled her nose. “Court well, Mr. Miller.”

  “I’ll talk to your father,” Matt said.

  “Will you travel into Richmond on Saturday?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “Why?”

  “Father is going. You can ask then.”

  “Maybe. This is my deal, though.”

  Grace reached for another pot and they continued to wash in silence, frequently glancing at one another. Their eyes would meet for a moment and then, as if there was some signal, they would go back to their task. Matt could already feel that his courtship was predestined. The glances and nods, even the pots passed between them, represented their agreement. She picked up the pots, handing them to him, and then he followed her down into the kitchen, where he helped her hang them on the rack one by one. “That’s it,” she said when she was finished. “I’ll come to supper in a moment.” Matt lingered there, drinking in her beauty. She made the motion to step toward him and he met her halfway. She melted into his arms and they kissed long and hard. When she finally stepped away, he was dizzy.

  **********

  He shook the haze from his head as he walked from the house, wondering how she had bewitched him but glad that she had. He meandered to the common on ground that felt soft beneath his feet, like he was walking on cotton. David was the first to see him. “I saw her throw a pot at you,” he said.

  “That was only the start of the negotiation,” Matt replied. “I promised to ask her father for permission to court her.”

  “What’s your plan?”

  “I don’t have one yet,” Matt replied with some dismay.

  “Sometimes you make me believe you’re not a scheming villain after all.”

  “In the unlikely event that I’m not,” Matt said, “what should I say to her father?”

  “Ask him if you can court his daughter,” David said. “What else is there?”

  “What does it mean, to court someone?”

  “You’ve never courted a lady? A handsome fellow like you?”

  “Not a good Christian lady,” Matt replied. “For what specifically am I asking permission?”

  “To spend time,” David said. “Kiss her hand, that sort of thing.”

  “I’m already spending two hours a day with her on horseback,” Matt said. “She’d laugh at me if I tried to kiss her hand.”

  “Formal visits are out. You’re already here,” David answered after thinking. “I’d ask for permission to write to her when you’re gone. You want permission to escort her to the Martins’ party on Sunday.”

  “Party? What party?”

  “A picnic. Charles is coming out to mind the farm. Even I’m going.”

  “Was I invited?”

  “Graine mentioned you specifically on the invitation,” David said. “I can only guess how you managed that. It’s most people in the church, including the Reverend Michael. They’ve his blessing for dancing and games, even though it’s the Sabbath. He likes parties more than anyone.”

  “Dancing?” Matt said, surprised.

  “Ask Will to teach you before he leaves,” David said. “He’s the best dancer in the family, after the ladies.”

  Matt frowned. “Dancing lessons?”

  “You don’t want her out there dancing with someone else, do you?”

  Matt saw Grace arrive at the common. She was glowing. His lapse in attention wasn’t lost on David. “You think you’re worthy of my niece?”

  “I could be,” Matt replied, uncertain.

  “Good evening, gentlemen,” Will said, walking up to them. “What do you two speak of so intensely?”

  “I’m looking for someone to teach me to dance,” Matt said.

  “I’m a rather good dancer,” Will said. “I don’t know if David told—”

  “Already did,” David exclaimed, “so there’s no need to boast.”

  “I’m merely saying,” Will said, “that I’ve mastered the fashionable dances.”

  “I don’t know what Graine sees in you,” David said.

  Will backed away, putting his hands up. “Come on, Levi!”

  “I’m serious,” Matt said. “I need a dance teacher.”

  “After dinner tomorrow,” Will said. He and David began mock fighting, and laughing uncontrollably. Will glanced at Matt with his hands up as he deflected David’s jabs. “The Martins’ party?”

  “Yes,” Matt said, resigned. He felt he was living some predetermined story that everyone had read but him.

  “You’ll be ready,” Will said as he backed away from his uncle.

  Thomas walked up during their horseplay. “What’re you doing?”

  “Fighting Levi,” Will said, “like Mr. Miller.” He picked his foot up, pretending to kick his uncle.

  “Act like the owner’s son,” Thomas said. He only seemed to be partly joking. He looked at Matt. “Mr. Miller, Grace mentioned you’re interested in riding your horse into Richmond to get some experience around town.”

  Matt had no idea what he was talking about, but decided to go with it. “Yes, sir. I’d also like to visit Jacob Berkley.” He saw a wide grin fill David’s face.

  “I’ve business in town,” Thomas said. “I’m sure we can match our schedules.”

  “Yes, sir,” Matt said. “I look forward to the trip.”


  “We can talk at supper tomorrow,” Thomas said. He looked at all of them. “Don’t stay out too late.”

  “You sure you don’t want to help me defeat this wicked villain?” Will said, making a stab at David, who stepped back.

  “Everything’s a joke,” his father replied.

  “I give up,” Will said. “You can be Mr. Miller and I’ll be Levi in an epic battle.”

  “Good evening, gentlemen,” Thomas said, frowning. He turned and walked toward the house.

  “What’s with all that ‘yes, sir’ talk?” Will exclaimed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you endeavor to court my sister.” Matt had no idea what to say. Will scrutinized them. “’Twas a jest,” he said, confused by their serious faces.

  “Can I court your sister?” Matt said.

  “You’re serious,” Will replied. “What does she say?”

  “She said I should ask.”

  Will glared at his uncle. “Did you know of this?”

  “I saw her throw a pot at him,” David said. “That’s the extent.” Will gave him a puzzled look.

  “Can I court your sister?” Matt asked again.

  “If you use her well,” Will replied.

  “How else do you think I’d use her?” Matt said. He had trouble even saying the word use, considering its negative connotations in his own time.

  “You make her smile. It’s a welcome change,” Will replied. “You have my permission, for all it’s worth. Father’s the one you must convince.”

  Matt looked at David. “Her uncle, too.”

  “You’ll have your chance,” David replied.

  **********

  The Taylor family began saying their goodnights. Grace approached the three of them with a smile and only briefly glanced at Matt. “I’m off to bed,” she declared. No one said a word and there was an uncomfortable silence. “Good evening,” she said loudly, trying again for some response.

  “Anything you should tell me?” Will asked.

  “Naught, dear brother, until Mr. Miller has had his transaction with you and Father.” Matt could see the surprise on Will’s face at his sister’s very casual reply.

  “He spoke of this to me already,” Will said.

  “And?”

  “I said yes.”

  “One more, then,” she said, smiling. “Goodnight, gentlemen.” She turned and was gone.

  “Zounds!” Will exclaimed. “Not a frown. I’ve never seen her thus.”

  **********

  Matt walked by himself to the barn. He was now resolute in the feeling that he could no longer ignore the men who were trying to rescue him. He wanted the issue settled, so when he entered the barn, he turned on the phone for the first time in days and sat there waiting. The text came exactly on time.

  “Are you there?” it read.

  Matt typed, “Yes.”

  “Could not contact you at the agreed time. Some problem?”

  “Here now.”

  “The portal will open at your original entry point in 48 hours. Can you get there?”

  “I’m not coming. Rescue one of the others.”

  “You can’t stay in 1762. We don’t want you changing the future.”

  “Side effects of the portal are too dangerous. I’m staying. The timeline will be fine.”

  “It’s an order. You must be there.”

  “I’m not military. Tell my dad, Andrew J. Miller, I’m okay and I love him.”

  “Contact you in 24 hours to discuss.”

  Matt shut the phone off, dimmed the lantern, and crawled into bed. He fell asleep quickly to the sound of the dog’s snoring.

  34

  What’s Up?

  It was all about corn again on Friday. The men who weren’t working out in the field were back shucking. Matt spent the morning picking ears and throwing them into one after another wagon. Some of the wagons would be taking corn into town for sale, others to drying towers to be dehydrated, and yet more would be mixed with grain and hay to make silage. The crop had so many uses that it should have been fascinating, but all Matt could do was watch the sun until it was time for his riding lesson.

  His thoughts wandered through the possibilities for his future. There were moments when he wished the Taylors had never found him and that he had never met Grace. He considered how easy it would’ve been to wander into town, sell his ring for thirty pounds, and get passage back to Philadelphia. Even now, holding the tiger by the tail, he was tempted to let it all go and take the path of least resistance. As he walked along, picking corn, he tried to remember his visions and dreams. Was there a detailed vision of Grace there somewhere? He was seeing visions of the future every night now and sometimes even during the day, but none seemed clear enough to guide him.

  When Grace rode up for their daily lesson, she was wearing a completely different pair of pants. “You own a lot of breeches,” he proclaimed.

  “I knew they would nettle you eventually,” she replied.

  “You own more pairs of pants than I do.”

  “Buy more.”

  “I can only carry so much on horseback. I need to travel light.”

  “Thus I’ve heard. You ready to ride?”

  “Thunder can’t wait,” Matt said. The truth was that the saddle yesterday had made him sore. He was hoping today’s lesson would consist of a leisurely ride in the countryside.

  “Most of the men are on their way back into town,” she said. “I want to give you practice riding between barns and with people still about. Mount up.” Matt put his foot in the stirrup and lifted himself onto the horse. Grace purposely led him into tight situations so he could practice backing out. A couple of times, farmhands coming out of doors or around corners surprised them; Thunder did startle when something unexpected appeared in close quarters.

  “Sometimes dogs spook horses,” Grace said, looking at Scout, who was following close behind. “Probably not an issue in this case, but best to be aware.”

  Matt tried to keep Thunder away from buildings, but the horse didn’t seem to care if he sideswiped walls or fences. “Keep him away from obstacles unless you want your legs smashed,” Grace said.

  “I’m trying,” Matt replied.

  “You’re letting him go wherever he chooses,” she scolded. “Control.”

  “I’m trying,” Matt replied, frustrated. Thunder had dragged him across a fence and his leg had been jammed in between horse and wood.

  “I imagined as much,” she declared. “You’ve been letting him do the work.”

  “What’d you mean?” Matt said, focusing on steering the horse away from another barn wall.

  “Strike him on his side if he goes too close,” she said. “Show him!”

  They did it again, and this time Matt smacked Thunder every time he neared a fence. After the first couple of near misses, the horse learned to stay away. “You’re right,” Matt said.

  “You need not be gentle,” Grace said. “Not too long ago, Thunder’s ancestors were fighting wars.” Matt was following her as she threaded her way through the outbuildings. “He’s smarter than most horses,” Grace said. “Smart horses get lazy. He’ll test your resolve.”

  “I get it,” Matt said. “It’s like everything else; he has to respect me.”

  “You respect each other,” Grace replied. “Let’s ride the country roads.”

  As she said this, she made Silver Star rear up on his hind legs and turn completely around to head back to the farm gate. Matt shook his head, thinking how reckless she seemed on horseback. He turned Thunder and trotted after her. When she reached the gate, she broke into a gallop. He groaned when he saw this, thinking of his sore butt.

  When Thunder reached the open road, Matt tried to make him gallop, but the horse refused, again. He could see Grace riding like she was in the Kentucky Derby. Matt reached back and smacked Thunder’s rear as hard as he could, and Thunder jumped forward. “Ha!” Matt said. “Finally, you scoundrel.” Even with his long strides, it took a lot of pounding
for him to catch Grace, who had been galloping Silver Star full-out. She slowed when he reached her.

  “Arrived finally?” she taunted.

  “What the hell was that about?” Matt exclaimed. The lower part of his body felt like someone had beaten him with a bat.

  “Such language!” she replied. Matt could barely make out her words above the loud breathing of the horses.

  “You’re trying to kill yourself,” Matt said.

  “You know naught about horses,” Grace said. “There’s nothing wrong with running them hard.” They walked side by side now and had traveled a fair distance.

  “That’s a bunch of crap,” Matt replied. “You’re trying to kill yourself.”

  “Should I die, I’ll be doing what I choose.”

  “You’ve your whole life to ride your horse.”

  “Until a man says I cannot,” she replied. “I’ll be a wife soon, never to ride again.”

  “You think this even about me?”

  “What else would you do?”

  “Women are responsible for themselves where I’m from.”

  “They must do what their husbands command!”

  “I wouldn’t know the first thing about commanding my wife.”

  “You think we’ll get married?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Father will never agree,” Grace said. “My betrothal will be to a wealthy Virginian.”

  “We have to try,” Matt said.

  “He’s worked all his life so his children could marry into the South’s best families,” Grace said. “I’ll never have the luxury to marry a man for love.”

  “Do you love me?” Matt asked.

  “Maybe,” Grace said.

  “Maybe?”

  “What do you expect?”

  “I expect you to wait,” Matt replied. He surprised himself with his calm focus. “I’m leaving for Philadelphia soon. I’ll be back with an offer that your father can’t refuse.”

  “Waiting’s not a problem,” she said. “I’m still unmarried, as you may have noticed.”

  “One day, you’ll have your own stables and you’ll be teaching our daughters to ride.”

  “Do you pledge this?”