The Mayflower Bride

by Kimberley Woodhouse

  A faint smile lifted Dorothy’s lips. “And I always will.” Her eyes closed. “ ‘I will not fear what flesh can do unto me …’ ” She squeezed Mary Elizabeth’s hand. “Keep praying for me, Mary Elizabeth.”

  “I will.”

  “So…what can you talk about while I rest? I know …. Tell me about William.”

  “He’s doing well. He’s working on the shallop, so I don’t get to see him very often. But it’s for the best of the settlement. We all have to do what we can.” She looked down. It appeared Dorothy was asleep, but she’d keep talking just in case. “It gets tedious, taking care of people and feeding people. I have to say, because of the change of scenery, it’s nice to go ashore and do laundry. But I’m really looking forward to the day when we have houses built and can start to live off this new land.

  “William is a wonderful carpenter. He’s talked about building furniture and houses, and I can’t wait to see the beautiful work he’ll do in the colony. He spoke to my father, you know. And he declared his intentions to court me. I can’t tell you how much that thrilled me to hear those words. But this is all so new. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “It’s all right, because I don’t know what I’m doing either.” William’s voice startled her.

  She put a hand to her throat and once again felt the fiery heat fill her cheeks. “You surprised me.”

  “I had to come see you. They were bringing a load of wood back to the ship, and I needed a few more tools.”

  Pulling herself together, she looked down. Goodness, what had he overheard? “I’m glad you did.”

  He knelt beside her. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your private conversation. That’s why I made my presence known.” Lifting her chin with his finger, he ducked his head and looked into her eyes. “Will you forgive me?”

  “Of course.” His eyes drew her in and whisked the world away.

  “Mary Elizabeth…I …”

  “Yes?”

  “I love you.” Leaning in, William kissed her softly.

  Peter followed William to his quarters. Lytton opened his trunk and pulled out the journal and several other things and set them aside. He dug around and pulled out a couple of tools.

  He placed the other items back in and shut the lid.

  “Mr. Lytton?”

  “Yes?” William turned, his brow furrowed.

  “I’d like to speak to you about training as a carpenter.”

  The man relaxed. “Go ahead. But I need to get back to the longboat.”

  “Let me walk with you then.” Peter headed for the steps to the upper deck. “Have you ever considered taking on an apprentice?”

  “Hmmm …” He raised his eyebrows. “Can’t say that I have.”

  “Do you think—after the settlement is established, obviously—you might think of taking me on?”

  William walked over to the longboat. “It’s definitely something I’ll need to pray about.”

  Peter offered his hand to shake. “I appreciate that.”

  “Good day.” William nodded and went back to the other boat.

  Pasting a smile on his face until the boat was lowered out of sight, Peter congratulated himself. If his eyes hadn’t deceived him, he’d interrupted Mr. Lytton before he had a chance to place the lock back on his trunk.

  He took the steps back down to the gun deck and snuck over to where William kept his trunk.

  Indeed. The lock wasn’t in place.

  Peter glanced around and then opened the lid and pulled out the journal. Flipping through the pages, he saw just what he needed.

  And it fit with his plan.

  Perfectly.

  CHAPTER 23

  Thursday, 30 November 1620

  William shivered in the cold as he climbed onto the deck of the Mayflower and gazed back out to the shore. The shallop had been finished, and they’d taken it out on another exploration with Master Jones accompanying the group. Other than finding more corn and beans—along with several other graves—they’d only come to the conclusion that the whole area they’d surveyed wouldn’t work for their settlement. They needed good land and a safe harbor and plenty of fresh water.

  Discouragement had taken over several of the men. It hadn’t helped that half a foot of snow had fallen one night and made it that much harder to trudge through the thick terrain. A few men developed bad coughs and deep colds. That fact didn’t boost matters or morale, either.

  God, I don’t understand what You are doing. I don’t want to complain, but we sure could use Your assistance.

  Before he left a few days ago, he’d noticed the decline in the Raynsfords as well as a few others. Mary Elizabeth rarely left Dorothy’s side as her friend suffered with an illness that Mr. Heale could only describe as a bad case of pneumonia compounded with scurvy. And William didn’t want to pull her away from the Raynsfords. They were the closest thing to family—other than David—that Mary Elizabeth had left.

  Once again, the feeling of loneliness took up residence in his heart. He didn’t have any good reason for it, and when he took the time to examine it, he knew it wasn’t true. But they all were desperate for some good news—something encouraging and uplifting. And he was tired.

  Young David Chapman ran across the deck and greeted him. “William!”

  “It’s good to see you, David.” He hugged the boy and crouched down in front of him.

  “Did you find where we can build?”

  “Not yet, I’m afraid.” William let out a sigh.

  “Well, we’ve got some exciting news.” The boy bounced up and down. “Susanna White had her baby. It’s a boy, and they named him Peregrine.”

  “Now that is good news.” William stood and lifted his face to the sky. Guess the good Lord was listening after all. Maybe he needed to work on his attitude. “How are the Raynsfords doing?”

  David shook his head. “Not very good, I’m afraid.”

  Movement and shuffling behind him reminded William that he needed to help. “How about you catch me up on the news later this evening after I help unload the shallop?”

  “We can sit by the fire and look up at the stars?”

  “Absolutely, as long as you stay warm enough. Please tell your sister I’m back and I will come see her as soon as I’m done.”

  “All right, I can do that.”

  “Thanks, David.”

  “I’m glad you’re back.”

  “Me too.”

  William went over to where the men were working and hefted his tools and an armload of wood. Funny how a simple conversation could change his outlook. He needed to fight the discouragement and loneliness. The Lord had blessed him, and he would be thankful.

  Now all he needed was to see Mary Elizabeth.

  Monday, 4 December 1620

  “Dorothy…please…no …” Great sobs wracked Mary Elizabeth’s body. Her face was wet with tears, and she didn’t think she could breathe as her throat clogged with grief. She shook her friend’s shoulders again, but Dorothy didn’t respond.

  Mr. and Mrs. Raynsford had passed sometime in the night. Their bodies were white and stiff. Now Dorothy’s breathing had slowed, and Mary Elizabeth knew deep in her heart that her friend was leaving.

  This couldn’t be happening. Not after all they’d been through. Dorothy had never even stepped foot in the New World, and she’d been the one so excited about this new adventure. God, why?

  “You’ve been the best friend I could have ever asked for.” Mary Elizabeth sucked in a deep breath. “This was your adventure. I was just along to be by your side. You can’t leave me now ….” Sobs overtook her, and she cried out her anguish over Dorothy’s still form.

  “Mary Elizabeth …” A warm arm wrapped around her shoulders.

  She sat up and found William kneeling beside her. “Oh, William …” Her grief washed over in great waves of pain. She went into his arms. How was this possible? Vibrant and joyous Dorothy? No. It couldn’t be happening. No.

  Pulling back, she
looked into William’s face. “Thank you for coming down here. I just can’t bear it. First Mother, then Father…and now …” She buried her face back in his shoulder.

  “I want to be here for you, Mary Elizabeth.”

  All she could manage was a nod as she pulled back again. Wiping the tears from her face, she looked back to her friend. “She’s been my best friend…all my life. I was always the hesitant one, she the adventurer.”

  “Her spirit will live on though. You can keep her memory alive and honor her through how you live your life.”

  “I know that it’s selfish of me to want her to stay here when she has heaven waiting for her, but I wish she could be here ….” Tears poured from her eyes as she leaned over her friend and kissed her forehead. “Go with God, Dorothy.”

  Her friend took a short breath, and Mary Elizabeth felt the air brush her face.

  Dorothy didn’t breathe again.

  The morning sun shimmered on the water, and the wind had ceased. Across the harbor from the Mayflower, ice and snow on the shore appeared like crystals sparkling in the light.

  Dorothy had always loved the snow. She’d loved winter. It was a pity she hadn’t seen the beauty in the winter here. She’d never even been top deck to see the land.

  And now men carried the bodies of the entire Raynsford family and young Edward Thompson, who’d also died in the night, out into the glorious sunlit top deck. All to see them buried at sea. Mary Elizabeth’s heart broke a little at the thought.

  William’s steady presence at her side gave her the strength to stand. But there were no words. Her heart felt like it had been broken into a million pieces. How was she ever to put it back together again?

  Elder Brewster spoke a brief prayer, and several people cried. No grave would be dug. No marker. Nothing to commemorate these people’s lives.

  Only the memories that the Leyden congregation would carry with them.

  The little group of Saints and Strangers had banded together in hopes to build a thriving colony across the ocean away from everyone and everything they’d known. Now those numbers had decreased, along with their supplies and so much of their strength.

  The men lifted a body.

  Mary Elizabeth looked down. She couldn’t watch.

  Splashes of water told her when it was over. The mood on deck was quiet, somber. Sickness seemed to have hold of too many, and it created an unspoken fear among the passengers.

  Would any of them survive the winter?

  Wednesday, 6 December 1620

  As the shallop left the Mayflower again, William hoped it would be the last expedition needed. This one had to prove profitable or they’d have no hope of getting anything built before spring. Already the weather had turned worse with rain, sleet, and snow a constant companion. Master Jones also voiced his displeasure and encouraged the passengers to search daily for a place so he and his crew could return to England.

  William had great hopes that he’d be able to speak to Elder Brewster about what he needed to do to become betrothed to Mary Elizabeth on this trip. He’d already asked to join the Saints’ congregation but would have to wait to be baptized until the water warmed. His new faith had given him so much joy, and he looked forward to the future with great anticipation. Mr. Bradford had been a wealth of wisdom and knowledge, and William found that studying the scriptures daily was his favorite part of the day.

  But with the deaths of the Raynsfords so fresh, he didn’t want to intrude on Mary Elizabeth’s grief. He wanted to give her time. It didn’t stop him from longing for the day when he could plan for building their own house in the settlement. He wanted her to know that he loved her and David and would do everything he could to give them the best life he could offer.

  Waiting was not his favorite occupation. He’d already waited so long to get this far, and now he was ready for his new life to begin. Tension filled the air around him. It must be heavy on everyone’s minds. The need to move forward with life. To locate a settlement and start building.

  The Mayflower’s pilot—John Clarke—and master’s mate—Robert Coppin—led their expedition, along with the master gunner and three other sailors. Sickness and the freezing temperatures kept many of the other men aboard the main ship, so they only had half the men they took on the last expedition. But William was hopeful. They would find a good place for the settlement. He was sure of it.

  They hadn’t journeyed far when the salty spray began to freeze on the men’s clothes. But they pushed forward with their sail and watched the coastline for people, another good anchorage, or a good river. When the evening came with nothing to show for it, they anchored and went ashore to build a barricade and sleep.

  The next morning, they were certain they had seen people, and a few men set out on foot to explore while some went in the shallop. But the natives weren’t to be found.

  William and the others found several more graves but no sign of anyone alive. Were they truly alone in this vast wilderness? He understood that it would be good to connect with others, but it distracted them from their purpose. Besides, William wasn’t too sure the natives would like to find out that some of their corn had been taken.

  The men trudged on in icy conditions, and again no suitable site was found. After a good deal of discussion on the shallop, they finally went ashore again to call it a day. William helped build a fire, while Mr. Coppin talked with some of the leaders. He talked of a harbor around the bay and north up the coast that he called Thievish Harbor. Since he had sailed to this area before, they all agreed it would be good to head in that direction the next morning. Maybe they would have better luck, or Providence would guide them to a suitable location. The weary men once again barricaded themselves and slept ashore.

  The cold and lack of progress wearied William. He was a man of action, and here it was December and they hadn’t even decided where to build. Sleep was hard to come by, but he finally drifted off with thoughts of Mary Elizabeth.

  Horrible screams brought him out of his sleep. Were they being attacked?

  The screams sounded again. This time closer.

  Having no experience with a musket, William watched as the other men scrambled for their weapons. The fog of sleep still hung over his head, and he wasn’t sure if this was a dream. But as he crawled behind a rock, an arrow hit the sand beside him.

  Indians!

  Fascination drove him to peek around the rock, but he couldn’t see a thing. He swiped a hand down his face. What could he do?

  Arrows flew and musket fire sounded in the air. Several of their company took off after the native warriors, chasing them into the thick growth.

  William’s heart pounded. It definitely hadn’t been a warm welcome. Did the Indians know that their group had taken corn and beans from their stores?

  He wasn’t a leader or anyone important, yet he felt the need to make peace. If these were going to be their only neighbors, shouldn’t they try to befriend them rather than shoot them? Maybe the Indians were just afraid of an attack and they shot arrows as a warning. Or maybe other travelers from afar had been unkind to them. Hadn’t Coppin told them all that he’d been here before? Perhaps other ships had too.

  William and another man waited back at their barricade. But without anything to defend themselves, they would be easy targets if the Indians came back before the other men.

  A shiver raced up his spine. He couldn’t think that way. Peace had been his previous thoughts, and no matter the fear in his mind, he needed to focus on that.

  The minutes dragged by. William sat close to the fire, attempting to stay warm. When the other men ran back into their little barricade, a sigh of relief rushed out of him upon learning none were hurt. But what of the Indians?

  Too many things were unknown. Many of the men were uncertain about what even happened. Roused out of their sleep by the screams, no one could remember who struck first.

  William shook his head. One thing was sure: they hadn’t made a friendly impression on the India
ns, and hopes of building trade with them dwindled.

  CHAPTER 24

  Friday, 8 December 1620

  The icy wind did nothing to help Mary Elizabeth’s mood as she stood at the bulwark and stared out at the water. Why had they left Holland? Why were they here? The burdens had been too much for her to bear. Seven-year-old Jasper More died of sickness the day the expedition team had left; William Bradford’s wife, Dorothy, fell off the ship and drowned in the icy waters with no one to help her; and then James Chilton, the oldest man among the passengers, passed away.

  In three days’ time, they’d lost three more people.

  Added to those dismal facts, they’d all heard the musket fire the other night. As it echoed across the water, they had no way to determine where the men had gone, much less discover if the men were injured or even alive.

  Sickness and disease affected more than half of the people remaining on the Mayflower. Fear reached into her mind and tried to spread its icy fingers throughout her soul. Closing her eyes, she shook her head. Fear was not of the Lord. It didn’t do anyone any good for her to sink into despair.

  Lord, help me. I’m not strong enough for this trial, and I’m afraid. Please keep the men safe—keep William safe. Help them to locate a safe place for us to settle. We need food and water. We need for people to get well. Her thoughts drifted to all she’d lost. Holland, Mother, Father, Dorothy, the Raynsfords—the list seemed endless. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  This wasn’t at all what anyone had expected.

  “Mary Elizabeth?”

  She turned and wiped tears off her cheeks. Tears she hadn’t even realized she’d shed. “Hello, Priscilla. It’s so good to see you up and about.”

  Her new friend strode over and reached for her hands. “You’ve been crying. What can I do to help?”

  Mary Elizabeth ducked her head. “I’m ashamed of it, really. Discouragement attacks me every day—and I know that we have so much to be thankful for.” She took a deep breath and looked back up at her friend. “But I believe God sent you at just this moment so I wouldn’t be overcome with loss. I really should stop this nonsense and get back to work.”