“I’m only three years younger than thee,” Naomi said. “Old enough to judge Josiah’s character. I don’t understand why thee insists on torturing thyself this way.”
“Girls are so strange,” Caleb said, walking across the hardwood floor. “I’d rather be outside working.”
“The attic hasn’t been cleaned out in a while.” Her mother’s gentle voice echoed across the living room.
Wiping a few stray tears, Ruth nodded. “A good idea. I’ll see to it.”
Ruth climbed the stairs and walked down the long hallway to the half-size door at the end. She turned the brass knob. It creaked, and the bolt slid from its hold, allowing her to swing the door open. She peered into the dark hole, lifting the lantern to reveal a steep incline of narrow steps.
Gathering her skirts, Ruth ducked then plowed up the stairs. She came to a small room lit by only one rectangular window. It had been ages since she was here. She hoped no rats, bats, or spiders showed themselves. A rare shiver passed through her spine.
She shoved a hand on her hip and strode to the center of the attic, and then ducking her head, turned full circle. Dust littered all the boxes, discarded toys, and old furniture. Her gaze landed on two cedar chests by the window.
She bent to her knees in front of the large one and lifted the lid. The hinges groaned as they locked in place. A brown leather Bible lay on top of several quilts. The volume was so large and heavy she had to use both hands to lift it. She remembered seeing it years ago; her mother had since relied on a more recent Bible that was smaller and easier to carry.
Ruth hauled the book onto her lap and flipped open the cover to the inside. Various messages had been written in slanted cursive, along with a list of names in the Payne family, and dates extending back to the late 1600s to Sussex, England.
She sat on the floor so long reading her family history that her tailbone began to ache. She shifted to the side to ease her discomfort and caused the Bible to slide off her lap and thump to the floor. The edge of a piece of paper slipped out from the middle.
Ruth dug her fingers in the spot and shoved the stack of pages to the other side. She unfolded the thick brown paper, a handwritten recipe for gingerbread that required a measure of molasses, sour milk, vegetable oil, wheat flour, a dash of salt, and a tablespoon of ginger.
How long had this recipe been in her family? Ruth scraped her teeth over her bottom lip as she pondered what to do with it. The original was too important to remove from the family Bible. She would copy it, and if she had time, try it out this evening.
“Josiah!” Caleb called from below the attic window. “Wanna go fishing?”
Ruth paused, realizing Josiah must be walking toward the house. She leaned over the chest and scrambled to her knees to look outside. The lid slammed on her fingers where she gripped it for support. She yelped and bounced back. Her head slammed against a low beam. Pain sliced across her left temple as her legs crumbled beneath her. The voices below faded with her sight.
Josiah glanced up at the sound of a woman’s scream. “Who was that?” He looked to Caleb for an answer.
“With two sisters in the house, there’s no telling. One of them may have found a spider.” Caleb shrugged, his mouth twisting in a grin as he followed Josiah’s gaze.
“Caleb!” His mother hurried out of the house, clutching a cream-colored shawl. She breathed heavily, trying to catch her breath. “Go fetch the doctor. Ruth has taken a terrible fall and is unconscious.”
The lad’s blue eyes widened as he gulped.
“Go! Hurry!” Elizabeth Payne waved him away, her brows wrinkled in worry.
“Is there something I can do?” Josiah asked. He wanted to go see Ruth for himself, but he managed to keep his feet planted out of respect for her mother.
“I thank thee, Josiah Wall. Please, go find her father and her brother Elijah. I believe they are out in the pumpkin patch, loading a wagon for market.”
She disappeared back into the house, where he assumed Naomi attended Ruth. Josiah ran past the swing on the oak tree to where orange pumpkins grew in long rows. The Payne’s wooden wagon was half full from the harvest of four rows.
Over an hour later, Josiah paced the living room floor, his boots clicking a steady rhythm. He hoped they didn’t kick him out, but he couldn’t be still. His gut twisted in agonizing knots as he waited for news—any news. Voices echoed from upstairs, but he couldn’t hear what they said. He rubbed his hand through his hair. His hat was somewhere around here. He was always losing the thing.
Footsteps sounded on the front porch. He rushed to open the door. Dr. Edwards, carrying a black bag, removed his hat. His plump form almost hid Caleb.
“Where are they?” Dr. Edwards asked, his brown eyes searching Josiah’s.
“Upstairs.” Josiah nodded toward the steps in the foyer, and the doctor rushed past him.
“Is she awake, yet?” Caleb asked.
“I haven’t heard her voice.” Josiah shook his head. “This is pure torture.” He bit the knuckles of his fist as he paced the floor again. A discarded sewing basket lay on the couch with a threaded needle stuck in a shirt. He wondered if the work belonged to Ruth.
More footsteps sounded on the stairs. Josiah whirled and hurried to the foyer. Naomi followed her elder brother, Elijah. Grim expressions marred their faces.
“Mother asked me to offer thee some tea or coffee,” Naomi said, looking up at Josiah. “I’m about to make a cup of coffee for Dr. Edwards.”
“Has she awakened?” Josiah asked.
Naomi nodded, her eyes focused on the floor as she gripped her hands in front of her. Why wasn’t she more happy? Why did she look so uncomfortable?
Behind him, Caleb breathed a sigh of relief.
“Did she say anything?” Josiah asked, stepping closer.
Naomi met his hesitant gaze then looked away. Confused, Josiah glanced at Elijah for an explanation. Two years Ruth’s senior, he and Elijah had become close friends while growing up. But over the last year, Josiah had focused more of his attention on Ruth. At times Elijah seemed annoyed by it, but not today.
“She asked if thee was here.” Elijah’s blue eyes peered into his, an older version of Caleb’s. “And she doesn’t want to see thee.” Elijah shook his head. His hair was a shade darker than Caleb’s. “I’m sorry, my friend.”
“May I at least stay until we hear a verdict from the doctor?”
“Of course.” Naomi glanced up. “Mother said to make sure thee is comfortable. I think we could all use some coffee.” She strode to the kitchen.
“Indeed.” Josiah sighed, reeling from Ruth’s rejection at such a time as this. When would she forgive him and get over his delaying their wedding? Would she have asked if he was here if she didn’t care? Hope surged in his battered chest.
He joined the others in the kitchen. They all sat around the table while Naomi made a pot of coffee. The brewing pot smelled delicious. As he finished drinking his coffee, he heard Dr. Edward’s voice in the foyer. He stood and followed the sound of the voices to the bottom of the stairs.
“It’s a minor concussion, but she should be all right by this time tomorrow. Make sure she gets plenty of rest.” Dr. Edwards turned from Matthew Payne, grabbed his hat, and headed for the front door.
“Thank thee,” Ruth’s father said, still standing on the bottom step. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as Josiah approached with Ruth’s siblings. He looked older, the wrinkles around his eyes more prominent. He met each gaze with lengthy silence.
“Here is thy coffee.” Naomi handed a steaming cup on a small saucer to the doctor.
“That smells delicious.” He nodded, gave her a grateful smile, and set his black bag on a table. He sipped the black brew as steam swirled around his bald head.
“Please have a seat and join us a bit longer.” Matthew Payne gestured to the couch.
Dr. Edwards shook his head and sipped more coffee. He swallowed. “I appreciate the offer, but I have more stops I need to make.”
> “On that note, I’ll be taking my leave as well,” Josiah said. “Please tell Ruth that I was here, and I hope she recovers quickly.”
“We will.” Matthew slapped him on the shoulder. “Never fear. Ruth will come around eventually.”
Josiah’s heart thumped with optimism.
Chapter 3
The next morning Ruth woke with a searing headache. She touched the side of her temple and winced at the tender bruise. Thoughts of Josiah assailed her, and she groaned in embarrassment. If she hadn’t been acting like a foolish schoolgirl upon his arrival, she wouldn’t have lost her balance and hit her head like a simpleton. How could she face him in such humiliation? In her weakened state, she would have succumbed to his consolation and wept upon his shoulder like a lovesick fool.
Ruth washed from her basin and dressed. She pulled her hair up in a braided bun and opened the curtains in her room. Having a corner chamber afforded her two windows, one by her bed and the other in front of her writing desk. A fireplace with a simple mantel graced the opposite wall. The bottom half of her walls were taupe, while the upper half were adorned with pictures of various flowers she and Naomi had painted last summer.
Downstairs, the smell of biscuits, frying bacon, and fresh coffee made her mouth water. As she passed through the living room, her parents’ low voices carried from the kitchen. A slight chill made her shiver, and she rubbed her arms. She noticed Caleb’s shirt where she’d carelessly left it on a chair. Thoughts of Josiah had distracted her when she’d mended the unfinished seam.
Ruth lifted the shirt to move it to a table so no one would sit upon the needle that poked out of it. Josiah’s black hat lay discarded beneath. A sentimental wave of affection overflowed her heart and brought tears to her eyes. The back of her throat ached. Her fingers curled around the brim, and she hugged it against her chest. The familiar scent of his musk and soap drifted to her nose. She closed her eyes and basked in it, trying to ignore the nagging thought of never again hugging the real man as she now hugged his hat.
“Ruth, is that you?” her mother called from the kitchen.
Jerking to attention, Ruth tossed Josiah’s hat on the chair. She took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and straightened her shoulders before entering the kitchen.
“Yes, Mother, it’s me.” She attempted a smile, but the muscles in her jaw and the throbbing at her temples intervened.
Her mother rose and came to her, a concerned expression wrinkling her dark brows. Gentle hands cupped Ruth’s chin as her mother’s brown eyes surveyed hers. “How is thee feeling this morning? Did thee sleep well?”
“Yes, and I had no dreams to interfere with my rest.”
“What about the bump on thy head? Let me have a look.”
Ruth tilted her head for her mother. When her fingers stroked the sore spot, Ruth winced.
“I’m sorry. It’s still swollen.” Elizabeth Payne bit her bottom lip.
Realizing her mother considered calling upon the doctor again, Ruth laid her hands on her shoulders. “I’m fine. Dr. Edwards said there would be swelling for a few days. Right now I’d like some breakfast. I’m starving.”
“I think a hearty appetite is a good sign.” Her father’s soothing and encouraging voice carried across the table, his own plate was half full. “Elizabeth, fix her a plate. Naomi, pour her a cup of coffee.”
“I can do it,” Ruth said, but her mother motioned to her usual chair.
“Ruth, what does thee have planned for the day?” her father asked.
“I found a gingerbread recipe in the old family Bible and thought I’d try it.”
“Is that what thee was doing in the attic yesterday?” Her father sipped his coffee, staring at her over the cup’s rim.
“I was supposed to be cleaning, but the trunk caught my attention. Mother, does thee know who the recipe came from?”
“Indeed.” She nodded. Her brown, silver-streaked hair swayed as she laid down a steaming plate of bacon, eggs, and biscuits in front of Ruth. “It came from my great-great-grandmother and traveled all the way across the sea from England.”
“How interesting!” Naomi set a warm cup of coffee next to Ruth’s plate. “Did thee find anything else?”
“There’s so much history written in the pages of that Bible, generations of our family, with names and dates. It’s a treasure.” Ruth picked up her coffee and sipped the strong brew. The liquid flowed down her throat and settled in her stomach, startling her awake.
“I want to help thee make the gingerbread,” Naomi said.
“That’s a good idea. I don’t think Ruth should be up and about, doing too much today. Dr. Edwards said she should rest.” Their mother glanced from Naomi to Ruth.
The side door opened, and Elijah and Caleb walked in, their shirtsleeves rolled up to their elbows. Elijah carried a pail of milk in each hand, and Caleb, a basket of brown eggs.
“The animals have been fed, and we already washed up outside,” Elijah said. He glanced over at Ruth. “I saw Josiah walking up the driveway.”
Ruth choked on a mouthful of eggs. Her mother rushed over and slapped her back. A tingle raced up her spine as she imagined seeing him in a few moments. She couldn’t. She wasn’t ready.
“Is thee all right, child?” Mother bent over her, but Ruth kept her gaze on her plate and shook her head as she covered her mouth.
“No, my head hurts. I believe I’ll go lie down.” Ruth rushed from the kitchen as a sturdy knock sounded on the front door. She paused on the stairs where Josiah couldn’t see her and leaned against the wall, her hand on her trembling stomach. How was it possible that he could do this to her without even seeing him?
Ruth rested her head back and tried to ignore the pain lashing from her temple across her forehead. Lord, please help me be strong so I can do what is best for Josiah.
Unable to leave, Josiah accepted breakfast and offered to assist the Payne men with their day’s work. They said Ruth had gone to her chamber with a headache. He hated to think of her in pain, and he wanted to be as close to her as possible. His brother had offered to take care of the store, and so he was free. As he and Elijah each swung an ax outside Ruth’s window, he couldn’t help glancing up, hoping for a glimpse of her. A couple of times he thought he saw someone move the curtain aside but then wondered if he’d imagined it.
“It’s exciting to know we’ll soon be incorporated as a real town,” Elijah said as he tossed two pieces of split wood on the pile. “I think it fitting to name the town after General Nathanael Greene. If it wasn’t for him and the Patriots fighting for our freedom years ago, we’d still be under the British Crown. And us Quakers would have forfeited our lives in refusing to bow to a king’s unfair demands.”
“True.” Josiah raised the ax over his shoulder and swung it in an arc, his breath gushing at the effort. A hearty satisfaction raced through his gut as the blade sliced through the oak with a jolting thud. One piece of wood tilted, and the other toppled over the stump, where his ax now lay buried.
“I like the name Greensborough,” Elijah said. “It has an official ring to it.” He paused, staring off into the distance.
“Have they sold all the lots around the courthouse?” Josiah asked, wiping his brow on his arm, his sleeve rolled up at the elbow.
“Yes, that’s why I know it won’t be long now before we’re an official town.” Elijah grinned and set another chunk of wood on the tree stump. “Our little New Garden community will benefit from the new people a town would draw. Folks are calling it New Garden’s Hope. Has thee thought about relocating the store within the town limits?” Elijah raised a dark eyebrow.
“We’ll stay right where we are—and we won’t be building a separate residence in town. I won’t allow all these changes to cloud my judgment on foolhardy decisions. The house I’ve built for thy sister is solid and not too far away when she has need to visit.”
Elijah’s grin faltered, and his eyes flickered before he looked away, rubbing the back of his head.
Josiah paused, recognizing his friend’s hesitation to voice what was on his mind. “What? Thee might as well say it. Does thee think me naive to harbor hope that Ruth will change her mind?”
“I’m no fool, Josiah Wall. I know thee hasn’t been out here helping me finish loading the pumpkin wagon and chopping firewood for fun. Thee hopes to see my sister and speak to her.”
“I won’t deny it. I’ve been worried about her injury, and while I take thy family’s word for her condition, I’d feel better if I could see her.” Josiah shoved his hands on his hips, paced a few feet away, and came back. “I need to talk to her. Help me. Please?” He rubbed his face. “Tell me, is she avoiding me?”
“I don’t know for certain, but perhaps.” Elijah averted his gaze. “I’m sorry, my friend.”
A cool breeze lifted around them. Leaves fell from the trees and blew across the yard. Josiah lifted his face to the welcoming caress, realizing it felt similar to the hot summer day when Ruth had waved a fan in front of him.
The sound of Elijah splitting more wood jarred him to the present. “I figured she might be. If I could get her to talk to me, I’m sure I could convince her to change her mind. We belong together. Everyone knows it. I can’t understand why she’d think differently just because I postponed the wedding.”
“Does thee really think thee can change her mind?” Elijah picked up the wood he’d sliced and tossed it on the growing pile.
“I do.” Josiah nodded. “She only needs to know how much I love her. It’s all a misunderstanding.”
Elijah nodded as he tilted the ax on the stump then leaned on the handle. “Why not stay for supper? I know my sister, and she doesn’t like hiding out in confined spaces. After being in her chamber all day, I daresay she’ll want to emerge for supper tonight.”
“Is thee sure? It could be uncomfortable to the family to have me stay for supper, especially after breakfast. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” Josiah flashed a grin at his friend.
“Thee is my friend as well as Ruth’s. I may invite whomever I please to supper. My parents feel the same way, I assure thee.” Elijah stepped back and lifted his ax. “Now let’s finish splitting this wood before we lose more time. I’m working up a mighty big appetite.”
Quakers of New Garden Page 2
