From This Day Forward

by Margaret Daley

  “Are you ready then to leave and go to Charleston? Wait for the next ship to England?”

  “No.”

  His intense scrutiny bore into her as if he were trying to discern her thoughts. “I will rid the house of the corpse. But that does not change the fact someone was killed here.” He marched back inside.

  Maddy hurried to her side. “Ma’am, I am for leaving before we get killed.”

  “Hush. Let me think.” Rachel paced from the cart to a large live oak, holding Faith against her chest, patting her back gently.

  Perhaps the man wandered into her house to die but was shot somewhere else. Or it was a hunting accident. She could remember something like that had happened on a hunt her father had participated in. A man had been mistaken for a deer and killed.

  Under the shade of the tree she spun around and stared at her house. Up until today this place had been deserted for years. Now that it was occupied, surely anyone who thought they could dump dead bodies here would not use her farm. If it was dumped here, then it was a one-time occurrence. She hadn’t seen any other dead bodies or bones around. Yes, it was most unusual. Not something that would be repeated.

  Rachel returned to the log and sank onto it, looking at Faith, whose eyes were wide open. “Hi, little one. I dare say you are hungry.” But her baby didn’t cry. Instead she kept her gaze fixed on Rachel as though studying her. “We are in a pickle. I have nowhere to go in England. Papa is really angry with me, and no one crosses him.”

  Looking up, she spied Nathan dragging the man toward the barn while Maddy hid behind the cart. When she peeped at the dead man, she screamed and ducked back behind the wagon. The hard planes of Nathan’s face sent a shiver down Rachel’s spine. He was not happy. He wanted her to return to England. But she couldn’t leave and stay with him or Sarah while she waited to go back home.

  Lord, what do You want me to do? I need a sign that You want me to stay. That this is what I should do.

  She stared at Faith’s beautiful face. “The Lord will protect us. You are here because He sent Nathan to help with your delivery.”

  “Have you come to your senses?” Nathan said as he strode through the tall grass toward her.

  “Yes.” She rose. “I am much better now. You need not worry about me. We have a lot to do to make this place habitable, but it can be done.”

  “Woman, are you going to stay after finding the dead man?”

  “Of course. It would have been far worse if I had found a man alive in my home bent on doing me harm. What can a dead man do to me?”

  “I’m not worried about him but the one who killed him.”

  “I have no quarrel with whoever did the deed. He should not bother me.”

  Nathan sighed. “You just don’t understand the dangers.”

  She crossed the few feet to him. “Whatever I do will be dangerous. Traveling by myself back to England. Finding a place to live there. With no money by that time.”

  He cut the distance between them. “Contact your family. Throw yourself on their mercy.”

  She had to tilt her head back to look into his face because of his nearness. “It worked well for you.”

  A lethal look targeted her, going straight to her heart. She had overstepped her boundaries. Moving back, she murmured, “I should not have said that.”

  “Our situations are different.”

  “Are they?”

  He glared at her then turned on his heel and stomped back toward the cart. For one wild moment she feared he would leave her alone with the dead man in the barn. She started forward. Perhaps she could throw herself on his mercy. But when he unhitched his horse from the cart and tied the reins to a nearby branch, some of her anxiety dissipated.

  Rachel headed to Maddy and gave the young woman her sleeping child. “Put Faith in the cradle over there.” She waved her hand toward a shady place next to the house. “Then we can unload the cart.”

  “We are staying?”

  “Yes.”

  After Maddy settled Faith in the cradle, Rachel worked with her to empty the cart while Nathan took in the heavier items like the few pieces of furniture Rachel had that survived the wreck. On her third trip back outside, she saw two wagons coming toward the house. Sitting on the first one were Sarah and John. Yesterday Nathan’s sister had spoken about how neighbors helped neighbors when a barn or a house had to be raised. But how would she ever be able to return such kindness?

  Rachel stood at her cart and greeted her visitors with a smile. “It is good to see you all again.”

  Nathan came to the first wagon, which was full of supplies, and assisted his sister to the ground, kissing her cheek. Then he rotated toward John and said, “There has been a complication. Rachel found a man in one of the bedchambers, shot in the chest. I moved the body to the barn. I need one of your men to bring the constable here.”

  “Do you know who the man was?”

  “Not his name, but I saw him in town once. Fighting. He gouged his opponent’s eye out.”

  “That could prompt someone to pay him back.” John walked to the second wagon and spoke to the driver. When the young man left on the horse tied to the back of the wagon, John returned to Nathan. “ ’Tis done.”

  Standing in the middle of the barn with the double doors wide open, Nathan stared up at the roof. “That should keep the rain out, which will make my life more comfortable.”

  John rolled his shoulders and arched his back. “We will come back tomorrow and finish the most pressing repairs. The house was not in as bad a shape as I thought it would be. I’m wondering if that dead stranger the constable took away was living here for a while before someone shot him.”

  “A squatter? Possibly. The bedding on the floor in the bedchamber suggests that at least he was staying here temporarily. But he could have been passing through.”

  “What will you do if her family does not come for her?”

  Nathan hoped his words were persuasive enough. “I’m not going to think about that. I have to believe they will not leave her here. I made it clear she was in danger and ill-equipped to deal with life here.” Was Rachel’s father as heartless as she thought? It was one thing for his grandfather to disown him. He could take care of himself. But Rachel was a woman, brought up for a different lifestyle than what she would face here.

  A white-and-brown cat that John had brought to keep the mice population under control moseyed into the barn and weaved in between John’s legs. “I don’t want to be around when she finds out you wrote her mother.”

  “That is why I’m not going to say anything to her until someone from her family shows up.”

  John chuckled. “Afraid she will kick you off her land.”

  “She might just do that, and someone has to be here to take care of her until she is rescued by her family.”

  “Why do you think ’tis your duty? This does not sound like a man who declared he’d had his fill of people.”

  Nathan stooped and petted the cat. “Faith wouldn’t be here if it were not for me. Rachel has her daughter to protect, which means I have that too. I am responsible. I brought Faith into this world.”

  “You sound like a father.”

  Although John’s tone held a teasing ring to it, his words stunned Nathan. A father? No. He would see to Rachel and Faith’s safety, but the moment her family came for them he would reclaim his life. “I am thinking after she returns to England that I will head west.”

  “Have you said anything to your sister about this?”

  “No, and I would ask you not to either. I have not made up my mind yet, and she does not need to worry needlessly.”

  “You have really given up on your grandfather.”

  Nathan rose. “He has made it clear that I am not part of his life anymore. I have accepted that.”

  “Have you?”

  “What choice do I have?” Since the Lord had forsaken him, he was alone. And that was fine by him. At least his happiness did not rely on another’s acceptance
and love.

  “I cannot accept all of this from you. It is enough that you, John, and your workers are helping me repair the barn and house.” Rachel swept the last of the dirt from the floor out the front entrance with its newly hung door wide open.

  Sarah set the rag on the table she had been cleaning and faced Rachel, with her hand on her waist. “I will not take this furniture back now. It was in storage and not being used. When you get your own, if you must, you can give this all back to me then. It will go back into storage.”

  Rachel locked gazes with Nathan’s sister for a long moment. She was not used to accepting charity, but ever since she had arrived in South Carolina, she had been forced to do that very thing. Usually in England she was the one helping others. Uncomfortable with the turn of events, she swung away from Sarah and stared at Faith asleep in the cradle, a cradle Sarah had lent her to use. “How will I ever repay you and your husband or Nathan?”

  “We don’t want you to repay us.” Sarah strode to Rachel and took her hands. “When you see someone in need, help them if you can. That is all I ask. That is what the Lord asks us to do.”

  Tears fought for release, blurring Rachel’s vision. “I don’t know why I am crying all the time. I didn’t used to do that.”

  Sarah laughed. “Now that I can help you with. After Sean was born, I cried all the time, but gradually that lessened as he neared his first birthday.”

  “So I have a year of this to look forward to.”

  “It will go by fast. I cannot believe Sean is three years old. Before long he will be a young man following his papa around and learning how to run the plantation.”

  Rachel leaned the broom against the wall near the front door. “Is that what Nathan used to do until his father died?”

  “Actually, Nathan used to trail our grandfather all over the plantation.”

  “He did? Then why did your grandfather…” Rachel attempted a smile that failed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

  “I don’t know what has gotten into Grandfather’s head. I sometimes wonder if it was sheer grief at his only living child’s death. Patrick is the one who seems to be able to reach him some, but even that is not often.” Sarah walked to a basket and lifted it to place it on the table she had cleaned. “I had our cook prepare you some food for the next few days.”

  “You didn’t have—”

  Sarah raised her hand. “Not another word. You will be busy getting this place livable and will not have time to bake and cook.” After removing her apron and cap, Sarah picked up her bonnet and tied it on her head. “We will be back tomorrow to finish.”

  Rachel bit back the words, You don’t have to come back and help. She saw the determined look in her new friend’s eyes and knew she would not appreciate her saying such a thing.

  “I had better go find my husband.”

  “I will come with you.” Rachel moved to the bedchamber. “I will be going to the barn,” she told Maddy, who was making the bed. “Faith is still asleep.”

  “Do I have to clean the other bedchamber?” The young woman threw a wide-eyed gaze toward the room where Rachel had discovered the dead man.

  “No, we will leave it alone for the time being.” Rachel could not bring herself to go into that bedchamber either. At least she could shut the door and ignore the area until she could muster her bravery enough to go inside.

  When Rachel stepped outside, the fresh, cool air with a hint of pine in it cooled her cheeks. She scanned the land around the house and realized she owned it. She had never owned anything like this. In England she had been beholden to her family for everything. What if she could make this work and have it become a productive farm? Be able to hire field hands to work her land for her and provide a home for her child? Would that rid her of this constant fear in the pit of her stomach?

  “The barn is looking like a worthy barn.” Sarah started for the wooden structure seventy feet from the house, between them and the swamp.

  Rachel followed her, passing one of Liberty Hall’s workers putting the panes in the last window. She would write down all the items the McNeals had “loaned” her and would find a way to repay them, in spite of what Sarah said. If this young country could declare its independence from England, twice, with the ending of the War of 1812, then so could she from her family. And yet as she thought that, she recalled her younger sister and wished she could be there for her coming out. Did Elizabeth fulfill Papa’s wishes for her? Rachel might never know. That realization saddened her and made a mockery of her declaration of independence.

  Sarah disappeared in the barn while Rachel woolgathered, rotating in a full circle. Glimpses of the river could be seen through the trees to the south of her home. Nathan had mentioned at one time there was a pier that extended from her property where boats could tie up. He did not know if it was still there.

  Suddenly a ruckus erupted to her right. Her heart pounding, Rachel whirled toward the screeching sound at the moment two hens flew out of the bushes with the new cat right behind them. Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed Nathan, John, and Sarah rushing out of the barn. Rachel dove for the nearest chicken. Her first attempt landed her in the dirt. She jumped up and ran after the bird as it raced for the house with Cat right behind it.

  “Get the other one,” she shouted over her shoulder while pursuing the white hen.

  At the entrance to the house, the hen flapped its wings and hopped up into the main room. Rachel twirled around and blocked the cat from entering while slamming the reattached door shut. She leaned back against it and surveyed the area. Clucking the whole way, the hen headed straight for the bedchamber where Maddy was.

  The young woman came to the doorway, and the chicken detoured and ran around in circles, its cackling growing louder and louder. Rachel stood in the center of the room, watching the bird until she felt dizzy. She clutched the table near her, closed her eyes for a brief moment, then refocused on the chicken. It zipped by her. She pounced on it and grabbed it up into her arms. She held the wiggling body close to her.

  “I did it,” she said.

  “Is that dinner?” Maddy asked as Nathan came into the house clutching a brown hen.

  “No.” The white chicken settled down, but its heart still beat quickly against Rachel’s palm.

  “I agree. John found a rooster and another hen in the bushes.”

  “Who do they belong to?” Now that she had stopped chasing the hen, Rachel’s exhaustion demanded her attention. She collapsed onto the stool nearby, still clasping the bird. She didn’t have enough energy to go after it again.

  “They belongs to you now.”

  “This means eggs.” She grinned at Nathan. “Perhaps more chickens.”

  He nodded.

  Rachel peered down at the white hen perched in her lap, the beating of its heart slowing. The sign I asked for. Thank You, Lord.

  Five days later, while Maddy completed washing the clothes, Rachel hung them up on the line Nathan had strung for her. Every part of her body ached from pushing, pulling, hauling, and anything else she needed to do. But she would not utter a word of complaint to Nathan.

  Today she planned to chop wood for the fireplace and show him that she could. He was out with the ox and plow, preparing a field. If she could have it done by the time he came in for dinner, it would be one more task she had learned and finished. The day before, she had finally managed to bake a decent loaf of bread. Then she thought of the dense piece she had sliced off a rather small, flattened lump. Perhaps not decent, but edible at least. Next time she would let it rise longer. At Mansfield Manor, the food was served at meal times, and she never thought of all the work that went into putting it on the table.

  After a quick peek to check on Faith in the cradle under the live oak, she marched toward the stump Nathan used to chop the wood. As she had seen him doing it, she positioned the log to be split standing straight up. She picked up the ax and dropped it at her feet. All right, it was heavier than she thought. Claspi
ng the handle with both hands and gathering all the strength she could muster, she again lifted the ax and swung it toward her target. The tool grazed the top of the log, causing it to fly off the stump—into her. Knocking her back as the ax sailed through the air. Her bottom landed on the ground with a thud.

  The hard impact with the earth jolted her. Her eyes slid closed until she remembered the ax wrenched from her grasp. They bolted open to find a large man, probably the size of the bear she had heard so much about, with the tool she had flung away in his hand.

  Eight

  Rachel’s gaze passed the dirt-covered black boots, skimmed over the brown trousers and white shirt, to the face of a giant with the reddest hair she had ever seen and bright blue eyes that wrinkled at the corners. From laughing. At her. His booming merriment filled the morning air, the ax still gripped in his hand.

  “Who are you?” she said so softly she had to repeat it for him to hear her over his amusement.

  Before the man had a chance to answer her, Maddy rounded the corner of the house and charged at him, tackling his legs and sending him and the ax propelling toward Rachel. She scrambled to the side as the giant hit the ground where she had been only a moment before.

  Maddy yanked the ax from his hand and poised it above him.

  “Maddy!” Rachel screamed, never having seen her servant so fierce looking.

  The man rolled away from Rachel and scooted back from Maddy, but instead of anger lining his face, his merriment deepened the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and a huge grin, displaying a missing tooth, met Rachel’s perusal.

  While Maddy still held the ax as though she would use it at any moment, Rachel asked, “Who are you? Why are you here?”

  A sober expression descended as he took in Maddy’s ferociousness. “I came to ask ya that. You ain’t a Dalton.”

  “No.” Rachel pushed herself to her feet and towered over the man. “But I own this farm now. My husband bought it from Mr. Dalton.”

  “You English?” He started to get up, but Maddy lifted the ax higher and took a threatening step closer. He settled back on the ground, all laughter gone from his eyes.