A Heart for Freedom: He longs for freedom, but won’t risk the lives of those he loves.

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A Heart for Freedom: He longs for freedom, but won’t risk the lives of those he loves. Page 19

by Janet S. Grunst


  Anna stepped in front of Matthew and pointed at Cranford. “You Christian?”

  “I ... ah.” Cranford grimaced and looked around at the soldiers gathered. “Of course.”

  “Good. Then you would do like we do.”

  Matthew swallowed. Anna was quick-witted, but judging from the annoyed expression on Cranford’s face, her comment had embarrassed him.

  “Out of the way, woman!” Cranford turned to the soldiers. “I said, take him. These people are no use to us.”

  Two soldiers yanked Matthew away and tied his hands behind his back. “’Tis prison or execution for you.”

  The soldiers dragged him into the cold night.

  The next morning, Heather woke early. She went to the cradle where Sara still slept. Sweet child, when will your father get to know what a precious little girl you are?

  Taking Matthew’s Bible, she crept downstairs to the common room. The quiet, early morning hours when she could reflect and pray always energized her. And spring, with all the new life around, encouraged her. She caressed the leather cover.

  Adam had agreed to travel to Philadelphia with or without Peter O’Brian. Hopefully, he had found out what Matthew had carried and whom he’d intended to meet there. Would Patrick O’Brian be of any help? Surely, Adam would contact her soon with the details of his trip.

  She opened Matthew’s Bible to the Psalms and read for a bit. She looked up and smiled when she spotted the bowl of flowers Polly had arranged for her. The Gordon family had blessed her in so many ways, helping with the farm and ordinary as well as providing friendship and encouragement. She would have been lost without them the past six months.

  You have provided so much, Lord. The Gordons and we have not gone without food or anything else we needed. Guests continue to come to the Green, and we have sufficient funds and no serious illnesses or injuries. She wiped tears from her cheeks and glanced again at the Bible.

  Please protect Matthew and bring him safely home. Help us find him. Give Adam wisdom, discernment, and success in any discovery he might make. Lord, You never leave us without hope.

  She turned to the pages where she’d placed Matthew’s letters and began reading the first chapter of Joshua. Taking a deep breath, a sensation of heat coursed through her body, and fresh tears fill her eyes. There were no words to express the way the ninth verse of the first chapter spoke to her heart. It confirmed that the Lord carried this burden with them.

  “Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.”

  Lord God, I am in awe of Your presence, provision, and faithfulness.

  Sounds coming from upstairs as well as the kitchen were heralding in the day. She set the Bible on the table beside her and got up. “’Tis the day which the Lord hath made; I will rejoice and be glad in it.”

  Matthew rode between two of the soldiers. They had stolen Bonny and his saddle from the Flemings’ barn right after one of the brutes had roughed him up. What kind of coward beats a shackled man?

  Dazed and dizzy, Matthew looked at the landscape around them. Where were they taking him? Were they heading back toward the ferry and Philadelphia? He eyed Cranford riding ahead, remembering the man’s earlier threats as they began the journey. Imprisonment or execution. At least they’d left the Flemings in peace, a reason to be thankful. Fear and worry dogged him. Fear? Fear of torture ... fear of execution ... fear of imprisonment, which often resulted in death. Worry? Leaving those he loved and how they would fare. Heather was a strong woman. She would carry on and do the best for the children. Regrets? Being caught, certainly, but not of aiding his countrymen in pursuit of liberty. His only regret was having left Heather and the children. Lord, please watch over them, and in Your time, bring them peace.

  Heather had finished tidying the rooms after all the guests departed. She opened windows, letting the fresh April air diffuse the cooking smells. Thomas came back into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of water. “Another week and ’twill be planting time. Do we want to plant as much this year? We could let one field lie fallow.” He lifted the tankard to his lips without taking his eyes off her.

  His expression suggested he thought that without Matthew’s help, the crop size should be reduced. “I trust your judgment.”

  “If circumstances change, we can always plant additional crops later.” His easy smile encouraged her.

  “Mark and Todd will be out of school soon, so they will have more time to help you and Philip. Anything else?”

  “No. I’m off to get the cows out to pasture.”

  After dinner, Heather went out to the garden.

  Mary came running outside within minutes. “A carriage is approaching, and I think it may be the Duncans.”

  It had been over a month since Adam had offered to go to Philadelphia. Please let it be good news. “Douglas, come with me to clean our hands at the well.” She picked him up and sped toward the side of the house.

  The carriage pulled up to the Green. Todd and Philip stood with Mary. Philip reached for the harness as soon as the carriage pulled in front of the ordinary.

  Heather took the basket Maggie handed her and helped her friend descend while Adam assisted the children. “We have been so eager for your visit.”

  “I am sorry it took us this long to get here.” Maggie held her close.

  Heather allowed herself the comfort of her friend’s arms. “No matter. Come inside so we can catch up.” She was ushering the group inside when Adam came alongside of her.

  “Might we take a walk while Maggie gets the young ones settled?” His hand rested on her back. He looked serious. Perhaps he’d learned something about Matthew. No doubt that was why he wanted to speak with her privately.

  “Certainly.” She called to Mary, who was speaking with Jean. “Please see that everyone has what they need and listen for Sara.” She turned back to Adam.

  “We can walk to the pond.”

  They walked a minute in silence, Adam staring straight ahead.

  “What is it? What have you learned?”

  “I went to Philadelphia and met with Patrick O’Brian. Nice chap and very helpful.”

  “And?”

  Adam pointed to the bench now in sight. “Shall we sit?”

  “Very well.” Normally, this was a place of peace for her, but now she felt a knot in her gut. She sat on the bench and faced him.

  “’Tis not good news.” His eyes filled with tears.

  She dug her fingers into the oak bench and tried to brace herself. The breath went out of her.

  “Matthew attempted to deliver a packet, but the man he planned to meet had traveled elsewhere. Matthew never arrived at the prearranged location. Concerned their system of passing messages might be compromised, the man dared not wait for him.”

  She sat silent, stunned, heart racing. “What? Did anyone search for him? What about questioning those where he stayed in Philadelphia?”

  “Yes, they went to the Davis Inn, but the proprietor said that Matt had not been seen since the morning he was to make his delivery. He expected to stay another evening but never returned, and he left nothing in the room. ’Tis not unusual that he would have taken his belongings with him.”

  He reached for her hand and held it. “Your husband carried secrets, so if the intended recipient did not get the package, the man would not have been eager to let anyone know.”

  “Why did Matthew do this?”

  “We can only guess. Come back to the Green. Maggie will be worrying about you.”

  As they headed back up the path, she rubbed the stiffness at the back of her neck. She still had no answers.

  Maggie spoke as she approached them on the path. “I wanted to get the children occupied.”

  Adam stopped and faced her. “Heather, there is more.”

  She only had to look into his eyes to guess what he might say. Hope—hope—my hope is in the Lord. The Psalms ..
. think. “Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the Lord.”

  Maggie came alongside her and placed her arm around her waist. Adam reached for her hand again. “A couple of weeks later, someone found a body in the woods on the outskirts of Philadelphia and reported it to the authorities. Stephens and Jones were in Philadelphia, evidently trying to trace Matthew. When they heard about the body, they went to see it, not an easy task since it had been badly ... They identified it as Matt.”

  She pulled her hand away from him, wrenched away from Maggie’s arms. “If the body had deteriorated, they cannot be sure.” She clenched her hands.

  Adam reached into his jacket and pulled out a small linen packet and handed it to her.

  “Nay!” She took it and slowly peeled back the fabric. The Celtic cross with the pale blue ribbon Matthew had given her, the same one she had given him and asked him to carry until he returned home, rested in her hand. A cold chill ran through her body, and she shook uncontrollably. The linen fabric dropped to the ground. Her eyes filled with tears.

  Adam’s voice cracked. “I did not want to believe it either, but when they showed it to us, I recognized it as the one you used to wear.”

  Maggie put her arms around her and held her.

  “I ... there might be a mistake. I cannot believe he is ... gone. I would know if he—”

  “My dear, you have had a shock,” Adam said. “You will need time to work through this.”

  Tears ran down Maggie’s face. “You are not alone. You have friends.”

  She pulled back, her head pounding. “There must be some mistake. I would know it.” She searched Adam’s tear-filled eyes. “The children. This will devastate the children.”

  “Heather, you and the children are like family. We will help in any way we can.”

  She wiped the tears from her face. “I appreciate all you have done.” She gazed toward the Green. How would she tell the children?

  Heather pushed her shoulders back and shook her head. She would need to be strong, now more than ever. “I must tell them.”

  “They will have questions, and I will try to answer them as best as I can.”

  “Where is he? Where is Matthew?”

  “Christ Church,” he said, “buried in the graveyard alongside his parents.”

  “’Tis not here, but ’twill do. How did he die, is it known?”

  He took a deep breath and seemed to have to force himself not to look away. “He was shot, several times.”

  She gasped. Shot? Someone murdered him? “Why? Who would do this?” A terrible taste filled her throat.

  “I’m not certain we will ever know for sure.”

  As they walked back to the Green, she prayed, seeking God for wisdom, the right words to tell the children, and the courage to face the days ahead.

  CHAPTER 29

  Sunday morning a few weeks after the Duncans’ visit, Heather steered the horse-drawn wagon down the drive toward the Green and wiped perspiration from her brow. It was warm for May. She removed her shawl and scanned the sky. It must be around noon. The children were as silent as she had been since they’d left the church service. She bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears. Friends at church had been kind, offering solicitous words, offering to help with whatever she might need. She had needed to get away from all their remarks, or she would have surely broken down again.

  She knew her friends only wanted to help. She wished she could find a way to let them. But the truth was, even as those who loved her offered sympathy, Heather couldn’t seem to convince herself Matthew was actually gone. There had been many times she’d sensed him as if he were calling to her, entreating her to believe in him, to believe he would return. She had not told anyone of her feelings, lest the entire town learn she was going daft.

  Douglas looked at her from his seat beside her. “Mama, I wanted to stay for dinner after church.” There was a furrow between his eyes.

  “We needed to get home, laddie. I thought we could take a picnic down by the river today. Mark could even bring some fishing poles.”

  When the wagon stopped, Heather stepped off and helped Douglas down before reaching up for Mary to pass Sara to her. “Mark, please attend to the horse and wagon.”

  “Yes, Mama. Can we really take the fishing poles?”

  “Aye. But ’twill be a few minutes while I take care of Sara and gather the meal. Go and change out of your Sunday clothes.”

  An hour later, they had spread the blanket and were all seated on the bank overlooking the Potomack River. Recent rains had increased the current, but the sound of the moving water and the warm sunlight helped settle her troubled spirit.

  Mary passed around napkins. “Mama, you said you expected Mr. Macmillan to visit this month. Martha asked me at church if you had received word from him. She has not heard from James, and she hoped Mr. Macmillan would bring news of him.” Mary leaned back against the oak tree and handed her little sister a cool damp cloth to chew on.

  Heather rubbed the knot on the back of her neck. “Something must have interfered with Andrew’s plans.” She studied the food on her plate, barely touching it. “He may still come. There are a few days left in the month.” Her hand went to her forehead to block the sun from her eyes. “Mark, do not let Douglas get too close to the water. ’Tis shallow there, but the current is strong, and I do not want him falling in.”

  Mark huffed. “How am I to bait his hooks, watch him, and fish at the same time?”

  She looked at her two boys and shook her head. “Douglas, stand farther back from the pond or put your pole down and come over here and sit with us.”

  Mark yelled. “Do what Ma says, or you will ruin it for all of us.”

  Mark’s sharp tone and scowl at his younger brother tore at her heart. They had all been short with each other. Had it only been a month since they had learned of Matthew’s death? It seemed a lifetime had passed.

  Their grief had gone from denial to anger, and now they all seemed to carry a general apathy toward life. She had been so preoccupied with her grief and set a poor example for the children. This must change.

  “Mark, Douglas, please put your poles down for a couple of minutes. I need to say something to all of you.” The boys joined the girls and her on the bank. The children studied her with what she could only describe as dread. After learning of Matthew’s death, it felt no good news could ever come again.

  “I need to apologize for being so distracted and sad these past few weeks. The loss of your father is a tragedy, one we must learn to endure. He would not want us to go through life sad and hopeless and unloving toward each other. We must stop focusing on all we have lost and begin to count our blessings and be thankful for all we have. We have each other, our health, our friends, a home. More than all of that, we have faith that the Lord will see us through this.”

  Mark rubbed a rock back and forth in the dirt while Sara rested on her stomach, smiling, innocently unaware.

  Mary shook her head. “We do not know about what happened to Papa. There are too many unanswered questions.”

  Heather put her arm around Douglas when he snuggled up next to her. “Adam said he would continue searching for answers, but he needs to work through certain channels. Your father worked in secret. Adam suggested one has to be careful in any investigation since further exposure might put critical plans or other people in danger.”

  Sara threw her ragdoll off the blanket, and Mary retrieved it. “But something else has troubled me. Remember when the Green was broken in to? Did that have something to do with Papa?”

  Heather nodded. “I have wondered about that myself. Whoever ransacked our home must have been looking for something because other than a small amount of money, they took nothing of value.”

  Douglas looked up at her, a frown on his brow. “Are we safe?”

  “I believe so, son.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “We have new, strong locks on all the doors. The robbers must not have
found anything, or if they did, we know nothing about it. Why would they come back?”

  Mark took some bread and ham and began eating. “Besides, we have two more rifles now, Douglas. I can protect us. Thomas showed me how to use them.”

  Heather shuddered and passed dried apple slices to Mark and Douglas. “I hope ’twill not come to that. I want you to continue helping Thomas and the boys finish the planting this week.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  A few minutes later, Mark tugged on Douglas’ shirt. “Come on, there are fish to catch.” The two boys picked up their poles and returned to the river.

  Mary placed her shawl over her little sister. “She has fallen asleep. Lucky girl. She does not know how our world has turned upside down.”

  Mary’s words broke Heather’s heart. How am I to guide this family through our grief? “But Sara will never have known your papa, and that is a very great loss.”

  “Aye,” Mary said. “A very great loss indeed.”

  After dinner the following day, a spring shower kept everyone indoors. Heather caught up on her mending, something she had been too restless to address the past few weeks. The sun came out mid-afternoon. Setting the mending on her lap and, resting her head on the back of the settee, she closed her eyes to enjoy the sun’s warmth pouring through the window. If only the rays of light streaming through the window would penetrate and heal my hurting heart.

  Douglas running into the room brought her back to the present. “Mama, may I go outside now? The boys are going to the front lawn with a ball.”

  “You may go out for a few minutes, dear, but if they do not want you to join in, you will need to watch.”

  Mary got up from the window where she was reading and sat on the settee next to Heather.

  “You look as though you have something on your mind,” Heather said.

  “I wondered, how did you know when you loved Papa?”

  Heather sighed. Was that a blush on Mary’s face? “Why do you ask?”

  “Is it too painful to speak about it, I mean with Papa being ... gone?”

 

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