“Nay.” She glanced out the window again. Mary only wondered what every young woman wanted to know.
“How were you sure of your love for him?” Mary placed her hand on hers. “I want to understand how it happened with you.”
“As you know, your father and I were not romantically attached when we married. We only met that very day.”
“Aye. I thought Papa had lost his mind.”
Heather chuckled. “Your father said his love developed for me not long after we married, but he always looked for the best in everyone. I was resistant. I did not trust others, nor did I trust even my own feelings, so it took me longer to realize that I loved him.” The warmth she felt on her face penetrated to her soul. “Your father’s character attracted me, the way he treated people with kindness and dignity. And how he loved the two of you touched my heart. I respected him, he made me laugh, and of course, being handsome and engaging did not hurt.”
They both laughed.
“Is this about Donald?” Heather asked.
“I love Donald. But is the love of a friend the same kind of love one experiences with the one they should marry? I think about him often, I worry about his safety, and I miss him, but I also have enjoyed the company of others.”
“Those are very honest and thoughtful admissions. When we are young and form friendships with young men, ’tis natural to wonder if we are suited to someone as a marriage partner. As we mature and know ourselves better, I think it becomes clearer. You do not need to make any decisions now.”
“But ’tis hard not to think about,” Mary said.
“Aye. When I was a young woman, a village chap and I cared for each other. Our families talked of us marrying someday, but the timing and circumstances never were right. After a few years, I realized two people could love each other but not be suited for marriage.”
Mary sat back and shook her head. “There are different kinds of love. ’Tis confusing.”
“You have time to search your mind and heart to know what you want. We can be praying God would provide the right husband for you when the time is right and to make it very clear to the two of you. I have no doubt you will know at the right time.”
“Really?”
“Aye, and when it happens, ’tis amazing.” She smiled and rested her head on the back of the chair. She closed her eyes again. The love she and Matthew had shared, all the special moments, could never be forgotten. After Mary wandered away, Heather glanced out the window. The sunshine made the raindrops on the leaves of the privet hedge glisten, a breathtaking sight.
Wait on Me. I am your help and your shield. I have never left you.
A jolt ran through her body, leaving the hair on her arms standing on end. A warm sensation of peace flowed through her. She looked around. No one was there and nothing had changed.
Is that You, Lord? I know you are with me, but what are You saying?
She scanned the room but saw no one. Had she dreamt or imagined the voice or the physical sensation?
Sara fussed upstairs. A glance at the clock on the hutch indicated it was six o’clock.
Mary came back into the room. “You stay there, Mama. I can see to Sara.”
“Bring her downstairs. We will need to serve supper soon.”
Mark came through the door. “There is a rider coming this way.”
“’Tis late for a boarder,” Heather said. “Mark, see to the horse, and I’ll show him to his room.”
She followed Mark to the porch and shaded her eyes as the rider approached.
“Mama, ’tis Mr. Macmillan.” Mark ran toward him.
She walked down the steps as Andrew dismounted from his bay.
“I came as soon as possible. Your letter, Heather—” Andrew strode toward her and gathered her in his arms.
Tears ran down her cheeks as this old friend comforted her. “’Tis good to see you, Andrew.”
“I’m so sorry.” He held her until she stepped back.
She wiped her cheeks. “Forgive me. I weep too easily these days.”
“I understand.” The look in his eyes reminded her. Aye, he too is well acquainted with grief. “Your letter said you would fill me in on the rest.”
“Aye, come inside. How is James? Mary will want to know also.”
“I shall tell you both.”
The sound of his voice gave her pause. Please, no more bad news, Lord.
CHAPTER 30
Heather ushered Andrew into the common room. The children followed. He reminded them of their father. He reminded her as well. She wiped fresh tears. “Join us for supper.”
“I would like nothing better. I am famished.”
“Please join me in the kitchen while I prepare supper.” He followed her into the kitchen, and she poured him a cup of water. “You look well.”
He drained the cup. “You are looking thin.”
“Perhaps a little.” They chatted about nothing while she ladled the cock-a-leekie soup into bowls.
After the blessing, Mark said, “Where is James?”
He set down his fork and took a deep breath. “James has joined the Continental Navy.”
Silence followed, which Mark finally broke. “James is in the navy? That is fantastical.”
Andrew nodded.
Mary’s eyes were wide. “Continental Navy? Is that a Colonial Navy?”
“Aye,” Andrew said.
“I read something in the Gazette a while ago about a navy being created,” Heather said. “But I did not know the colonies had any ships.”
Andrew shrugged. “’Tis still small. Some merchant ships have been refitted, and more are being built. The Continental Congress and General Washington want to rid the Chesapoyocke of Lord Dunmore.”
Mary shook her head. “James never mentioned it. I feared he might join the militia or the Continental Army, but I never knew he considered going to sea. Martha would have said something if she had known. ’Tis surprising James has not told or written her about this.”
Mark grinned at the unexpected news. “He will have great tales to tell when he returns.”
Heather passed a bowl of soup to Andrew. “We will keep James in our prayers.”
“I appreciate that. James said very little about his decision to join, though I believe he gave it much consideration before telling me. He departed almost two months ago.”
Andrew leaned forward and folded his hands on the table and looked at the children. “I’m so sorry about your pa. Your father was a good and courageous man who wanted to serve the cause of liberty in the best way he could. You can be proud of him. He was a well-respected member of this community and will be missed by many.”
Mary sniffled. Andrew patted her hand.
Mark looked down at his lap, obviously fighting back tears. Douglas got up from his seat and climbed on Heather’s lap.
Heather looked across the table to Andrew. It was hard to hear his heartfelt remarks. They were all still so tender. But his words would be remembered by each of them, and in time, they would be a balm for their hurting hearts.
Heather got up from her seat. “Mary, would you help me serve the pie?” What a relief to see smiles reappear on her children’s faces. In the kitchen, she cut the apple pie.
Mary set plates on the work table. “How long will Mr. Macmillan be with us?”
“I’m not certain, but probably not long. He has a business in Fredericksburg to oversee.”
After finishing their pie, Andrew approached the children. “Would you mind if your mother and I went for a walk? We will not be long.”
Mary stood and gathered the plates onto a tray. “Of course.”
Heather stood. “Put Sara to bed soon. I shall get a shawl.”
It was dusk when they left the Green. The evening sounds of chirping crickets and croaking frogs filled the silence. She relayed what she had learned about Matthew’s last days and his death and tried to answer his questions. When they reached the pond, they sat on the bench and gazed at the wate
r in silence. Ducks huddled by a bush making soft sounds.
“Can you stay with us a few days, Andrew?”
“Aye. What can I do around here to be of assistance? Do you need any funds?” He reached into his coat and pulled out a folded parchment and handed it to her. “It is not much, but it may get you through any needs that come up.”
She opened it slowly. There were several notes. “I cannot accept this, but I appreciate your generosity. We are not destitute.”
“Please, keep it. You may need it in the future. Do it for me. I need to help in some way.”
She smiled at his kindness. “’Tis challenging to learn how to receive graciously.”
“Will the Gordon family stay and help you?”
“They have given me no reason to think otherwise. Polly, Thomas, and the boys have been a blessing and good company for all of us, now more than ever.”
“I’m relieved.”
She gently rubbed her fingers over the cross at the end of the blue ribbon hanging around her neck. “I have no reason to doubt what Adam told me about Matthew, and the limited evidence we have confirms Matthew is ... gone, but part of me still finds it difficult to accept.” She turned and looked into Andrew’s sympathetic eyes. “And there is still so much mystery. Why was he involved in some clandestine scheme, transporting intelligence packets? He shared none of this with me.”
Andrew shook his head. “Matthew never told me of his involvement in the Patriot cause. He must have believed he could be useful.” Andrew took her hand. “Heather, it takes a while to heal a grieving heart when you have lost someone to whom you have pledged your life.”
The evening light almost gone now, she noted his eyes glistened. She fought back tears and looked down at her small hand almost lost in his large one. Sharing this intimacy with a man other than Matthew seemed confusing.
“With time, it does get easier.” There was sincerity in his eyes as he searched her face. “In time, one remembers the good days shared and can again smile. You have friends who are praying for your family. If I can be of any help, in any way, get word to me, please.”
“I will, Andrew, and many thanks, for everything.”
“Let me pray for you.”
She closed her eyes and listened to his strong and comforting voice.
“Father in heaven, You healeth the broken in heart and bindeth up their wounds. I pray You will heal Heather and the children’s broken hearts and fill them with Your peace. Lord, help them to find the answers they seek, strengthen them each day, and meet all their needs. Lord, we trust in Your faithfulness.”
Nothing had changed. Her circumstances were not altered, but her spirit was lighter, and for the first time in months, she felt encouraged.
A slight smile formed on her lips as she looked up at him. “That means a great deal to me. ’Tis dark, we’d best get back to the Green.” They were both wounded people. She would need to be mindful to maintain her reserve and not compromise either of them.
CHAPTER 31
After the church service on Sunday a month later, Heather, Mary, and Amelia Turner walked toward the wagons to gather their food for the picnic.
Heather reached into their wagon for a basket and turned toward Amelia. “I’m eager to learn more about what this Declaration of Independence means.”
Mary took it from her. “What does it mean that the colonies have declared their independence, other than it being the topic of conversation today while we eat?”
Amelia laughed. “True, little else will be discussed. ’Tis good to see you staying for dinner after services today.”
Heather took another basket. “We would not have missed it.”
Mark ran up to them, followed by Logan Turner and his sisters. “We are here to help carry food. I’m starving.”
Amelia reached into her wagon and pulled baskets out. She handed them to Mark, Logan, and the girls.
Heather studied Amelia. She looked weary. “Have you any news from Cole?”
“Nothing lately. ’Tis difficult not to worry with all the things we hear. So many families have young men fighting, often away from home for the first time. We feel so helpless.”
Heather placed her hand on Amelia’s back. “I understand.”
They made their way back to the group gathered outside the church and schoolhouse where some other ladies had already set out dishes of food.
Amelia wiped her brow and looked around at the group assembled. “What will happen now that we have formally separated from England?”
Heather glanced at Mark. Fortunately, he was too young to leave home to fight. “We wondered the same thing. Will the fighting increase, or will England give up and leave us alone?”
Aaron Turner joined his wife and family as they spread a quilt on the ground. “England, give up? We would be foolish to believe Britain will forfeit their investment in the colonies and sacrifice their pride as the world’s most powerful nation and just walk away from her upstart colonies. No, their irritation with us has been piqued, and we will all experience their wrath soon.”
Heather shuddered and placed a quilt beside the Turners’.
George and Hannah Whitcomb and their family spread a blanket and sat nearby.
Mama tapped Mark on the shoulder. “Please run back to the wagon and get the other quilt so the Gordons can join us.”
When Mark returned with it, Thomas Gordon sat down beside his wife. “I understand Governor ... well, former Governor Dunmore is encamped out at Gwynn’s Island, and Maryland’s former royal governor has joined him there in exile.” He swallowed a bite of chicken before he continued. “My guess is they will use the island in the Chesapoyocke as a staging ground for attacks on Maryland and Virginia.”
Polly elbowed her husband and nodded in the direction of Hannah Whitcomb.
Heather followed their gazes. Hannah seemed agitated. They had best keep the talk of war to a minimum or it would remind her of the danger facing Tobias.
Mark wasted no time jumping into the fray. “With our new navy, we can take on any old royal governors who want to hole up at Gwynne’s Island.”
Heather glanced at Martha. How did she feel now that James Macmillan had joined the navy? It was widely believed the navy’s efforts were to be focused in the Bay.
Thomas Gordon’s grin was jubilant. “No more king. We finally have a Patriot as governor, Patrick Henry.”
Todd sat next to his father. “I suppose with Dunmore gone we would need a new governor.”
Mark looked at Thomas. “If we have no king, who will rule the colonies?”
“No one will be in charge,” Thomas said.
Mark looked confused.
Thomas put down his plate. “’Twill take time, but it means we will become free and independent and no longer a part of the British Empire. We are a new nation.”
Heather looked around the group. Everyone seemed to silently process his words.
Mark got up and motioned to Logan to join him. “This would be an exciting time to be in Philadelphia. Come on, I think there is more chicken at the table.”
She shuddered. This would be a frightening time to be in Philadelphia. “I’m grateful Mary and Mark are no longer there.” She picked Sara up and made her way to the wagon.
When Heather was finished changing Sara, she heard Mary and Martha’s voices. The Whitcombs’ wagon was near enough to observe the girls.
Martha’s voice cracked. “We are all living our lives as though nothing bad is happening. We go to church and picnic in safety, children play their games, yet we have fellow colonists, our young men, who are fighting and being injured and dying. Your mother understands because she has already lost someone, but so many others are caught up ... celebrating. Tobias and James and all the rest of our young men are in terrible peril.”
Mary took Martha’s hand. “People have not forgotten. They are glad we have officially separated from England. No one is making light of the danger.”
Martha continued, “I
do not know the ship James is on or where Tobias is. Your family has also suffered. My mother speaks of little else, and I am fearful.”
Heather held Sara close and bit her lip. Hannah’s depression was taking a toll on the Whitcomb family.
“Martha, whenever any of us are fearful, Mama reminds us to praise God for who He is and to thank Him for all He does for us. He is always faithful no matter the circumstances.”
Heather’s eyes prickled, hearing her own words offered as encouragement to someone else. She would need the reminder often in the coming months.
Over the next fortnight, numerous guests at the Green kept everyone busy. On a particularly warm Tuesday, Heather rolled the washtub outside and filled it with hot water. “’Tis too beautiful a day to stay in the wash house.”
Mary reluctantly joined her with an armful of linens, which she dumped in the tub. “When the Walters stayed here, Mrs. Walters said many ordinaries have only a blanket on their mattresses, so there is far less wash to do.”
“That may be why the Walters stay here when they travel. We Scots put great store in hygiene and cleanliness to maintain good health.”
“Hmm.” Mary picked up the paddle and stirred the soaking linens. “It takes more work.”
Heather stretched. “Would you prefer working in the garden until Sara wakes up?”
“I would prefer reading or sewing.”
“Good endeavors, but the chores need to be completed first.” She glanced toward the lane. A rider approached. “’Tis Mr. Macmillan’s bay, Stirling. Ask one of the boys to attend to his horse.”
“Philip loves that horse,” Mary said. “I will find him.”
As Mary walked toward the barn, Heather took her apron off, set it on a basket, and approached the lane leading to the Green. “Andrew, how good of you to come visit.”
Philip ran from the barn and took the reins as Andrew dismounted. Mary was right behind him.
“Good day, ladies.” He nodded at Philip. “Stirling will want some water.”
“Yes, sir. And I will give him some oats and rub him down, too.”
They walked back toward the Green as Philip led the horse toward the barn.
A Heart for Freedom: He longs for freedom, but won’t risk the lives of those he loves. Page 20
