by DiAnn Mills
“Did you have a pleasant journey?” Mama eyed him suspiciously. She knew Papa’s designs.
He lifted baby Elijah from her arms and held him close. “Tremendous success, my sweet Elizabeth. I will share it all with you after dinner tonight.” He sniffed the air. “Do I smell venison stew? All the while we were gone, I pondered your fine cooking. Nothing compares to it.”
Mama shook her finger at him. Her large, brown eyes twinkled, giving away her feigned irritation. “Elijah Abraham Butler, you most assuredly have done something of which I shall disapprove. Is that where your compliments lie?”
Papa graced her cheek with a kiss. “And how is Henry faring?”
She released a sigh, then laughed before throwing her arms around his neck. “He is doing quite well.” She pointed to the maple tree where Henry waved. “He has set up a loom and is weaving all sorts of marvelous things.”
So now he captivates the heart of my mother? Delight could scarce believe her ears.
Charity nearly bubbled with excitement. “Come see, Papa. He has begun weaving diapers for Elijah.”
“And he is able to weave black-gauze aprons, damask cloths, and a host of other wonderful things,” Patience said.
“Wonderful!” Papa strode toward the maple tree, carrying Elijah, while Mercy and Hope nestled close to their father’s sides. “Greetings, Henry.”
“Aye, Elijah. We missed ye.” Henry grinned. “And ye, too, Delight.”
I fail to believe you missed me. She released a heavy sigh. His comment irritated her, since they rarely enjoyed each other’s company.
“I have taken to repay ye for your kindness,” Henry continued. “Mistress Butler states some of my goods are not available here.”
“True,” Papa said. “We have need of your fine services.” He examined Henry’s work and complimented his craftsmanship. “I’d like to keep you employed. The entire town could use your services.”
“The British army would not agree with you, sir.” Henry’s blue eyes fairly danced, and a smile twisted at the corners of his mouth. Never had he talked so freely and acted so lively.
“We might be able to arrange something.”
Papa, this daring invites trouble. You cannot trust the enemy.
Henry chuckled. “I do long for this war to be abated, for I miss my trade.” He peered around Papa to where Delight stood. “See, your generous care has given me strength to spend me days outside.”
“I see that,” Delight said. The smile he offered made her uncomfortable. A vision of the helpless, wounded soldier who relied on her assistance strolled through her mind. Why did she suddenly prefer the hurting man to the one on his way to wholeness? Confusion needled at her. She disliked the man immensely, and once his leg healed, he would be gone. That thought should give her tremendous pleasure. But it didn’t, and an inkling of validity in her father’s words made her furious.
“Soon I will be running like a strapping lad,” Henry said. “Already I’m leaning less and less on the crutch.”
“In your haste, are you causing more harm to your leg?” Delight instantly regretted her question. She wished Papa had never indicated his observations about Henry.
Henry’s gaze met hers, causing another flush of warmth to her cheeks. “Methinks the use makes me stronger, but I thank ye for the concern.”
She felt the stares of her sisters like a sharp sword. No doubt, they would have thought little if she had returned his comments with a sharp retort. “I … I hope you understand your healing is of utmost importance to all of us.”
“Come along.” Papa’s voice rang out above the silence. “I am famished, and I’m sure Delight is as well.”
“Shall we call you when the meal is ready?” Mama said to Henry. “Or do you wish to join us now?”
“This is your family’s time together,” Henry said, already scrutinizing his weaving. “There is still more than an hour of daylight left, and I am eager to complete this piece. In fact, I should most enjoy eating here.”
“Very well.” Mama linked her arm into Papa’s. “I will have one of the girls bring you a generous portion of venison stew.”
“Please, ma’am, could Miss Delight bring it to me?”
Chapter 7
If Delight had set her mind to behave like a heathen, she’d been given the opportunity. Her first evening at home, and Henry wanted her to deliver his meal? If he could hobble about on his crutch, he could make his way to the kitchen when he finished his weaving.
As they strode toward the house, Papa stepped to her side and whispered, “Remember our conversation? This is an opportunity for you to extend Christian love and further instruct him in the way of patriots.”
She obediently nodded but inwardly cringed. “Yes, Papa.”
“When darkness settles, I’ll invite him to a game of checkers and afterward chess. I feel merriment in my bones.”
Delight knew the details of Papa’s evening plans skirted around the war. He merely wished to postpone telling Mama he had enlisted in the Continental army. He had money stored away if times got lean before his return, and Uncle Matthew and Aunt Anne had already shared an abundance of vegetables and apples. All of the girls had been busy helping Mama preserve food for winter, from dried beans and squash to fruit preserves. Soon they would be cooking thick, dark apple butter flavored with sugar and cinnamon and pouring it into jars. Aunt Anne had given them rhubarb sauce from the spring and jelly from wild berries. Before Papa planned to leave, he’d help Uncle Matthew butcher pigs, sheep, and cows for the long winter ahead. Already, hams hung in the smokehouse.
Enduring cold weather without Papa sounded more dismal than the inches of snow that would drift against the sides of their house. At least they had the companionship of Uncle Matthew and Aunt Anne—and there were other dear folk in Chesterfield, too—but how she longed to return to Boston. Delight shook her head. Dwelling on her gloomy situation would not change the current circumstances.
Casting aside her contemplations, Delight took a pottery plate of the thick stew, a chunk of bread, and a pewter mug of milk to Henry. His request still irked her. Since when did she become his keeper?
Remember your word to Papa. He sees a patriot’s spirit in the man, whether you do or not.
Henry obviously didn’t see her approaching, for he stirred not a muscle while he attended the loom. His breeches had been mended in her absence, albeit the stitching looked a little less than even, but it did bind the tear sufficiently. He had definitely been busy, and in light of his weaving, she admired his industrious nature. Delight studied him, tilting her head slightly.
“You are gifted,” she whispered.
“Thank you, lass. I wondered if ye intended to speak to me or possibly—”
“Douse you with the stew?” In truth the act had crossed her mind, teasing her hands until they tickled.
His blue eyes widened and he laughed, long and hearty. She liked this side of Henry, and he looked … well, rather pleasing. “You are blushing, Miss Delight. Methinks ye had the thought rummaging about your head. I’m glad I spoke of it before I wore my meal.”
Best you not know the truth for I’d be redder than the jacket of your uniform. She handed him the food.
“Thank ye, lass. Sit down, please. Have you eaten?”
“Not yet.”
“Would you care to join me?” Henry’s tone indicated an earnest request, one that left her bewildered.
“I … I could fill a plate and sup with you.” She wondered what the origin of her awkwardness might be. That strange sensation in the pit of her stomach assailed her again, as if she still traveled in the wagon and had hit a bump in the road.
“Splendid. I shall wait for ye and tidy up a bit around our spacious dining area.”
Again that endearing smile. What had changed with him? She excused herself and returned a few moments later, but not without some jesting from her sisters about choosing to dine with Henry rather than her family.
“Nev
er mind, daughters,” Papa said. “She is conducting herself in a hospitable manner, and I find the trait commendable.”
Delight relaxed in his defense of her. They had grown closer in the past few days, and she’d have been incredibly hurt if he’d allowed the teasing.
Once seated beneath the towering maple on a soft green blanket sprinkled with a few turning leaves of scarlet and gold, she noted the red color of Henry’s hair blended with the early signs of autumn. She scurried through her mind for a topic of conversation. She didn’t dare tell him about her and Papa’s journey.
“Shall I give thanks?” Henry said.
Delight bowed her head respectfully, eager to hear how a redcoat asked God’s blessings.
“Heavenly Father, thank Ye for bringing my friends home safely. I have missed them.”
Missed them? Delight’s fingers trembled.
“Thank Ye for the continued healing of me leg and the craft Ye have given me to repay the Butlers for their kindness. Bless this food and the hands that have prepared it. In Jesus’ precious and holy name, amen.”
He prays just like the rest of us. How strange, and he didn’t mention the war.
Henry picked up his pewter fork, soon to be melted down into musket balls. “I smell the changing season in the air, and from your house, apples and cinnamon.”
“Mama does make delectable apple dishes. I was thinking about it myself—and all the preparations for the coming months.” She nibbled at a piece of bread, conscious of his gaze upon her. Her stomach growled, and she fought the urge to devour the entire piece of bread, but those were inappropriate manners for a lady. “The nights are growing cooler,” she added. “A welcome respite from the hot summer.”
“I spent two winters in Canada, frightfully cold.”
She nodded. “I suspect that must have been a hard life.”
He glanced up from his food and caught her watching him. “All soldiers struggle with difficulties, lass. The elements can be friend or foe.”
She hastily looked away. This uneasiness between them must be attributed to only one thing. “Henry, we are not arguing.”
He shrugged. “I gather it’s because neither of us wishes to debate on our differences.”
“I am too weary to contend about the war.” Her admittance compounded the exhaustion pelting against her body.
“And I am too glad to see ye.”
Her appetite immediately diminished. “Why did you say that?” She wanted to sound demanding, but instead she whispered the question.
He rubbed his chin with its weeks of growth. “I’m not certain, but it is the truth.”
I cannot admit the same conclusion when I’m not convinced of my feelings. Oh Henry, I would rather be quarreling.
They finished eating in silence while Delight tried to remember all those things she appreciated about the handsome James Daniels. That’s where her musings should rest, not on a redcoat.
“Delight, I would like to discuss something with ye,” Henry began. “While ye and your father were gone, I made a decision.”
Her head spun, not knowing if she wanted to hear his findings. Perhaps knowledge of his subject matter would put her heart at ease.
From the house, Mercy and Hope raced toward them, waving and calling their names. “Papa is ready to play checkers with us and chess with Mr. Henry!”
Henry waited patiently while Elijah pondered his next move. The master of the house had fallen under the luck of the Irish. The patriot was three moves short of losing his king. They played by firelight, with the Butler family seated around and nary sputtering a word. Henry felt the family’s championing Elijah in the silence wafting about the room.
On Elijah’s right, the mistress held a tight smile. Her gaze wandered to the crackling fire, where she stared intently. No doubt her husband’s role in the war kept her attention from the chessboard. She alone did not take the game seriously. On his left, Delight’s sights fell on the sadly missing pieces of her father’s side.
Be glad the fate of the colonies has not been decided in this game of reason.
His gaze could have feasted on her comely face forever, but he dared not relinquish his thoughts to his stirring emotions. First the family needed to learn of his discoveries, then he must make necessary plans. Only the advanced healing of his leg slowed him from making declarations this very night. Out of respect for Elijah and Delight’s return home, he must refrain from drawing attention to himself. Although, if not for the precipitous arrival of Mercy and Hope, he would have told Delight of his prayerful conclusions earlier in the evening.
A smile lingered on his lips, not for the game but for the peace enveloping his soul. He loved this family with all of their quirks and pleasantries. Ah, Elijah truly led his household in a worthy manner, and the mistress held a silent strength. Noticeably, each young woman not only possessed worthy inner qualities but also outward beauty.
Delight had captured his heart and mind. She must have a sprinkling of Irish to love a good debate and fear not any game. Her oval face and flawless skin would hold any man’s attention, and he dearly loved her spirit.
Charity, a vision of sweetness with not near the hasty tongue of Delight, held the qualities of a devoted wife and mother. Sometimes he wondered if deep inside the lass a resolute spirit grappled to surface. She always looked a bit pale, and Henry prayed God would keep her healthy.
Remember shared her faith in every word and act. Benevolent best described her nature. One day, she’d be a prize for the man who won her heart. Aye, he must have a servant’s heart as well to do her proper.
Faith and Charity were both very much alike. They even resembled each other, more so than the other sisters with their freckled noses and sparkling smiles. Faith liked to cook and did a fine job.
Patience, the shy one. He had seen her slip away to put her thoughts into words. He viewed depth beneath those huge, brown eyes curtained in thick lashes like her mother and sisters. If he were not mistaken, quiet strength lived within her heart.
Mercy and Hope possessed the innocence that brought joy and laughter into each family member’s life. They certainly had done so to Henry. When they lifted their angelic faces framed by a sea of lace in their mobcaps, he could refuse neither of them.
Again he stole another look at Delight. She must have sensed his scrutiny, for she met his quick look with a blush. If they were alone, he’d be hard pressed not to steal a kiss. Suppressing a chuckle, he could imagine her incensed reaction to such a bold act. When the time came to say good-bye, he would miss her sorely. How could a man lose his heart in so short a time? Even so, he’d found a higher purpose in the cause of freedom.
Finally Elijah moved his rook. “Henry, it is a powerful affliction to lose a game of chess in my own house, but I wouldn’t want you to lessen your skill.”
Henry chuckled. “Are ye sure ye want to move that piece, sir?”
Elijah looked up, his gray eyes peering into his opponent’s. “Is that a strategy? I’m thinking you are pushing me to make a different move.”
“Aye, I am.” God is my witness. I have a weak spot for those destined to lose.
“The rook stays.”
The women were silent as they huddled around Elijah.
Henry moved his knight and took the rook. Elijah groaned, left with only a bishop and king. His next move put his king in check. “I believe I’m a beaten man,” he said. “My king is doomed.”
“Such a sad state of affairs, but I have always favored this game, and ye played well, my friend,” Henry said.
Elijah clasped his hand on his shoulder. “You are a good man, Henry O’Neill, no matter what color uniform you wear. You took my king in a befitting game.”
Elijah took a deep breath. Courage nearly escaped him. “You should have won. Americans fare better without the rule of royalty.” He rose from his chair. “Good night, dear people. May you sleep well.”
Chapter 8
For a long moment, Delight believed she h
ad misunderstood Henry. Wonder at what had transpired in her absence danced across her mind. She glanced about the room. Papa’s mouth stood agape. He, too, must be evaluating Henry’s words. Illuminated hope from her father’s prayers, of which she had only half attended, lifted her spirits.
“Henry, would you care to elaborate?” Papa said, his tone befitting curiosity.
He turned and faced them all, lifting his chin with an air of pride. “Sir, I don’t want to dampen your first night home with a matter about me self.”
“Indeed, if I heard correctly, greater jubilation than our return has blessed this family.”
Delight watched a myriad of emotions crease Henry’s face. Even in the faint light, she could see his eyes mist. Was this what he wanted to tell her earlier? She braved forward, curiosity propelling her words. “I would like to hear what has transpired.”
Only the sound of the clock ticking from the parlor graced her ears. Henry’s gaze seemed to sweep from one person to the other, finally resting upon her.
“Perhaps Henry doesn’t need such an audience,” Papa said.
“I agree.” Mama stood from her chair beside him. “Come along, girls. This has been an exhausting day, and I think it is time we join young Elijah in our own beds.”
“I will accompany you,” Papa offered. “In addition, my dear Elizabeth, you and I have a matter of our own to discuss.”
“Aye,” she said, her skirts bustling around the table. “I fear I may already know.”
Poor Papa, but then again Mama might have steadied herself for the inevitable. Delight took her leave of the departing group in silence, certainly a trait uncommon to her. She smiled at each one, offering an embrace and words of love before they mounted the stairs. Not one teased or asked why she alone should be privy to Henry’s words, although she hoped each thought her nursing position gave her the right to hear whatever tormented him.
Noting her clammy hands, she rubbed them on her apron and methodically placed the chess pieces back into an engraved wooden box.
