by DiAnn Mills
I don’t need him to defend me, Delight thought. “Henry—”
His look stopped any further utterances. It reminded her of Papa when he expected her to cease everything immediately and do his bidding.
“Delight longed for a solitary place where she could grieve your father’s departure and the impending danger of war. I sensed her sorrow and followed for the sole purpose of offering comfort, which is exactly what happened here.”
“But … you exchanged a kiss!”
“Precisely so. I initiated it, taking advantage of her weakened state, an action for which I sincerely apologize.”
“Henry,” Delight interrupted, “you must not shelter all the blame.” She stared into his eyes and saw the tenderness she’d seen previously. A fluttering sensation jolted across her stomach. “I did not attempt to stop you.”
“Nonsense, Delight. I am sorry for me bold actions.”
Do you regret the kiss?
“Please.” Charity’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. Mistress Rutherford acted so cruelly and was so self-righteous. Then you two looked … I thought—”
Henry stepped forward and touched her arm. “Ye are hurting, too. ’Tis nothing wrong with feeling as ye do with your father leaving.”
Charity nodded, unable to speak for the tears rolling over her cheeks. Compassion overtook Delight, and she gathered up her sister into her arms.
“Forgive me,” Charity said between sobs.
“I am not offended. We all are suffering from the reality of Papa joining the war, but quarreling is not the answer, and I can be the worst offender in that regard. I believe we must show our love for him by extending it to each other. Imagine Mama’s torment.” Delight’s gaze fell on Henry, who seemed to be studying her. A smile passed between them. This time she felt no fluttering in the pit of her stomach. Instead a strange and lovely warmth filled her. In one brief moment, all thoughts of James Daniels vanished in a light that could never measure up to Henry O’Neill. I love him. I sincerely do.
“Shall we join Mistress Butler and the others for prayer?” he said.
Charity lifted her head from Delight’s shoulder and took the handkerchief her sister offered.
“It is a little damp,” Delight said. “Henry gave it to me earlier, and I soaked it thoroughly.”
“I shall merely find a dry spot.” Her sister attempted a trembling half smile. “I can always use my petticoat as we did when we were children.”
“Excuse me, ladies. If ye are considering such actions, then I will go on ahead.” Henry chuckled, breaking the tension in the air.
“Oh no.” Delight raised a brow. “We need an escort.” In the midst of laughter, she realized her affections did include Charity, the sister who had always vexed her so. She brushed the curly wisps of damp hair away from Charity’s face and kissed her forehead. Just as Papa always did.
Henry spent the next few days with one eye on the road and one ear listening for British soldiers. If caught, he’d be forced back into the uniform of the enemy, and be required to wield a bayonet in front of those he’d come to respect. He told himself on more than one occasion that he’d fall to his demise before raising a hand to stifle the patriot cause.
Soon James would arrive. Henry planned to ask him about enlisting in the Continental army as soon as possible. His leg needed only a few more days to heal properly. In the meantime, he would pass his time weaving for the people of Chesterfield and treasuring every moment spent with Delight.
Dare I reveal the depth of my feelings before I leave? He believed she felt the same, because he’d seen it in her eyes. During those times when he sat weaving outside beneath the maple, he dreamed of living out his days in America with Delight beside him. Oh God, by all Ye deem holy, am I wrong to ask for this fair lass? I want to love her as Ye have instructed in Your own Word—as Christ cherishes the Church. Hear me cry, Holy God.
Henry prayed God did not regard his plea as selfish, although he knew desiring something for himself held all those qualities. He prayed for this wondrous land, destined to one day be the greatest in all the world. With the ideals of the brave patriots, America’s destiny could be no less. Here, God willing, he would live out his life and one day raise a fine family.
“Henry?”
He raised his sights, knowing the sound of Delight’s voice. Her tone held a soft repose when she talked to him, just as he envisioned the sounds of the choirs of heaven echoed through the universe.
“Am I interrupting you?”
“Nay, lass.”
“You looked so faraway, as though you held private sanctuary with God, and I surely did not wish to interfere.”
“Truthfully, my thoughts were on the things of God.” He rested his hands on his knee. “But I am finished for now. What can I do for ye?”
She slipped down to the leaf-covered earth beside him. A brisk breeze obviously coaxed a gasp from her, for she massaged her arms lightly. “Winter is coming.” She wrapped her woolen shawl tightly about her. “Henry, you need an outer garment.”
He laughed. “My coat is the British uniform. I believe I would rather be cold.”
She glanced away, and he saw the visible traces of sadness etching her face. “I believe Uncle Matthew has an extra outer garment. I will fetch it today for you.”
“How generous of you. But I don’t have money to pay.”
“He offered when you wove aprons for Aunt Anne.”
He hesitated. “It is time I enlisted.”
“I know,” she whispered.
Is now the time to speak to her, Lord?
“Not yet, My son. Wait for Me.”
The clear direction caused him to bridle his tongue.
“See, you are chilled,” Delight said. “I will get a blanket from inside to wrap about your shoulders until I return with a coat.” When he protested, she raised her chin. “You can’t do the patriots a bit of good if you are ill. I nursed you once, and I daresay you remember how difficult I can be.”
“Nay, I remember an angel’s touch.” He could not stop a teasing grin. “One with eyes of fire.”
She instantly sobered. “I am sorry for the way I treated you.”
“Are ye now?” He forced a jovial disposition, sensing her melancholia.
“Yes, and do not make light of me. I will sorely miss you, Henry O’Neill.” She anchored her hands onto her hips.
He wanted to pull her close to him and kiss her soundly. But he restrained his emotions, wondering if another impetuous act might displease God or anger her. “I will miss ye, too—everything about ye.”
Silence invaded their small place. In the distance a dog barked, and birds sang above them as though everything about the world rested secure. Reality spoke otherwise. Thank Thee, Lord, for moments of reprieve when the rest of the world moans and shudders.
“Promise me you won’t get hurt.” She lifted her hands from her hips and let them dangle at her side.
Heaviness settled upon his shoulders. “That is impossible, lass. Only the heavenly Father knows the future.”
She drew in a breath and blinked hastily.
“But I will promise to heed caution and to serve the Continental army to me utmost.”
“I expect you to exceed even those expectations.”
“I am only a man guided by God.”
“Then I pray He keeps you in the shelter of His wings.”
Will ye prayers always include me? Dare I hope so? Henry swallowed the endearing words he yearned to speak. Silently he proclaimed his devotion until God willed him to make his declaration of love. He recalled the late-night conversation he’d shared with Elijah before his friend’s departure.
“You have my permission to wed Delight,” Elijah had said. “I can’t think of a finer husband for my daughter or son-in-law for Elizabeth and me. My blessings, Henry. Aye, she can be a handful, but you will never find greater devotion.”
“Thank ye, Elijah. I admit I don’t know
how she feels, but I know my heart.”
Elijah laughed heartily. “Delight may not understand her own sentiments, but I do see your favor in her eyes.”
Since then, Henry had looked intently into his beloved’s eyes at every opportunity, hoping for a glimpse of love. At times he felt certain. Other times he doubted she felt anything at all. Perhaps he merely read words into her silent messages or the tone of her voice.
“I did come to tell you something.” Delight’s voice broke into his pondering. “Mama said James will be arriving by nightfall tomorrow.”
Delight left Henry in the cold air and walked back into the house to tell Mama about hurrying to Aunt Anne’s for the promised coat. Taking a deep breath, she wished she could muster the courage to tell Henry that James meant nothing to her. But if she made the claim, then he would surely see her growing feelings for him. The idea of Henry not sharing the same affections sounded more devastating than not knowing his feelings at all.
Charity had admitted her fondness for James, and Delight had wished her God’s blessing. How odd and yet wonderful that it took a misunderstanding to bring the two sisters closer together. All these years they had quarreled with and avoided each other, and now they were inseparable. Indeed they giggled and talked late into the night like dear companions.
“Henry does care for you,” Charity had whispered just last evening while the rest of the house slept.
“Are you certain?” Delight’s pulse quickened at the thought.
“Absolutely, without a doubt. He has eyes only for you, as though you hung the stars in the sky.”
“Is that blasphemy?”
Charity sighed. “I pray not, for he is a godly man, and I sense his great love.”
“Oh Charity, if only he would speak to me about his feelings. I ache to hear any words of endearment.” She shivered with the truth echoing through her. “Yet I am fearful if something should happen to him.”
“What if he should leave without telling you?”
Delight felt her spirits sink. “Pray he speaks his mind before he departs.”
“I will, sister. I will with all the fervency in my very being. He would not have kissed you if he did not care.”
“Thank you.” Delight felt her eyes moisten. “I wish we could have become close long before this very moment.”
“Aye, we’ve missed so very much. I always loved you, but our closeness now is beyond my deepest dream.”
Delight’s eyes moistened with the confession. “And I love you, Charity. Just like your name, you give in abundance. I will pray James sees your goodness.”
Delight smiled at the remembrance of the sweet times lately with all of her sisters. Adversity had a way of ushering in God’s grace.
Glancing at the huge piles of wood Henry had chopped in preparation for winter gave Delight a sense of relief. Her family would not go hungry. Neither would they freeze in the cold. They’d have the company of each other to sustain them through the hard times until Papa—and Henry—returned. If only she had some type of assurance that Papa and Henry might fare as easily. She wanted to do something to help, but what? Helplessness wove its web of inadequacy, leaving her heavyhearted and frustrated.
She could not carry a musket, although she had heard stories of wives who followed the troops to cook and tend to the soldiers. Some, when they saw their husbands fall in battle, picked up their weapons and continued the fight.
She’d promised Papa not to indulge in dangerous activities, which meant in her estimation that she could do little of any value for the cause.
“Where is your faith?”
The whispers from a place neither her heart nor her mind could claim spoke with a truth she could not deny.
“You believe in Me for eternity. Why can’t you trust Me with the present?”
Chapter 13
The next evening, Henry waited with tumultuous feelings for James’s arrival. The man had become a good, respected friend, and he valued their relationship. But what of the man’s interest in Delight?
Loving her meant Henry desired the utmost for her, God’s richest blessings. I need to fade into the background and allow them to grow closer. I give her to Thee, Lord. My wish for her happiness exceeds my selfish ambitions.
The afternoon came and went. Henry delivered woven goods to three families and took an order for one more. All the while he harbored mixed emotions about James’s tardiness. Mistress Butler waited the evening meal in anticipation of their guest joining them, but at last they partook of the food. James was a man of his word. He lived a daring life. He would walk through Satan’s fire if it furthered the cause of the patriots. His delay sent an uncomfortable sensation up Henry’s spine. Surely the British soldiers and loyalists sought to end his life—a possibility Henry tried without success to push from his thoughts.
“James must have been detained,” Mistress Butler said during the meal. A silence had befallen them. Even Mercy and Hope were unusually quiet. In their young minds, a word from their guest might be a word from Papa. “Shall we pray for him? Perhaps Henry would do us the honor.”
What a blessing for me to lead this family in prayer, Henry thought as he bowed his head. Thank Ye, Lord. “Heavenly Father, we welcome Your presence into our lives, and bless Your name for these bounteous gifts. We humbly ask Ye keep careful watch on our dear friend, James. Protect him from harm’s way and sustain him in the shadow of Your blessings. Lord, also remember Elijah. Bring him through this war without injury and back to all of us who care for him. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
Once the firelight cast its shadows, the sisters closed the shutters and latched them. Mistress Butler fed the baby and rocked him to sleep, nearly drifting off herself before gathering up a basket of mending. An hour later after reading the scripture aloud and practicing their writing, Mercy and Hope made the trek upstairs to bed. Some of the young women busied themselves with knitting or their samplers, while Patience wrote a letter to her father, and Charity kept one eye on the door. Delight said little, no doubt fretting with Charity over James’s absence. She held a book in her hand, but not once did he see her glance at a page. Henry listened for every sound, anxious to hear Bear’s bark, announcing a caller.
“I am certain James will be here soon,” Henry said, long after the hour grew late. “Only his loyalty to the cause would hinder his presence.”
“I agree.” Mama put aside her mending. “I believe we should not tarry in obtaining our rest. If he arrives, we shall hear him.”
Henry knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. The gnawing in his spirit had lingered after his prayer. “I believe I will resume the watch a wee bit longer.”
“I should like to keep you company.” Charity spoke from a corner chair where she had long since set her basket of yarn at her feet. “Delight, I would appreciate your presence.”
“Of course. We can talk or read.”
“Do not stay up too late, girls,” Mama said. “Tomorrow is another day.”
Henry noted the gentle smiles and compassion exchanged between Delight and Charity. His beloved had told him of their renewed dedication to each other, and he’d seen the change since the day of Elijah’s departure. He wondered about their common attraction to James and how they could ignore their emotions. Rather than deliberate the matter, he quickly discarded it. After giving the worrisome problem to God, he shouldn’t keep calling it to mind. Tonight his concerns belonged to James.
His friend had mentioned running provisions and ammunition under the guise of shelled corn in barrels that Elijah had constructed. If the British searched the contents of James’s wagon, they would find more than corn to grind into flour and certainly end his friend’s quest for liberty—and his life. None of those possibilities needed to be communicated to the fair women of the Butler household. He believed they should be sheltered from whatever unpleasantness possible, with the exception of Delight. Henry had a feeling she could see her way through just about anything.
Another rea
son why he loved her.
“What do you suppose has detained him?” Charity said. In the next breath, she stood and paced in front of the fireplace.
“A number of things could delay his arrival.” Henry purposely kept his voice calm and quiet. “With his activity among the Continental forces, he is probably on a special mission.” His answer held more truth than he cared to admit.
Charity nodded and forced a grim smile. “Of course. Tomorrow we shall be exhausted because we tarried into such a late hour.”
She obviously cares for James. He glanced at Delight. Worry lines creased her forehead. How he longed to comfort the burden resting on her mind.
“James is self-sufficient. It is wrong for us to agonize over his absence. He would not want any of us to fret over this.” Delight stood and placed a hand on Charity’s arm. “Let’s go on to bed. Bear will alert us.”
Charity’s shoulders rose and fell as if a heavy sigh had drawn her strength. “Aye, you are correct in your assessment.” Her gaze lifted to her sister’s face. “Come along then.”
The two bid Henry good night and encouraged him to seek his rest.
“I shall, lasses.” He avoided Delight’s face, knowing her heart was with another. “Sleep well.”
After the women ascended the stairs, Henry allowed his own thoughts to wander. James was not blind to the uncertainties of his position. He had a clever side to him that had kept him a step ahead of the enemy. Still, danger loomed in these perilous times, and Henry could not help but think of Adam and his other compatriots who had perished in the fighting. Henry wasn’t ready to lose another friend, albeit he realized many fine men on both sides held death as their destiny before the war ended. He could be one of those, too.
Henry had given himself four more days before enlisting. In truth, he and James planned to travel together to the nearest camp, where his friend assured him of a proper introduction to General Gates. Regardless of where James might be at the end of the allotted time, Henry planned to venture on himself. They had spoken about a great number of things from their boyhood days to their understanding of God’s salvation to war stories, but nothing about Delight. He assumed she was a subject neither of them wanted to broach.
