by Jody Hedlund
He lurched toward her, lifted her from the horse, and cradled her in his arms.
“I’m so tired.” She laid her head against his shoulder.
He’d been foolish to bring her along to Boston on a wintry December day. He should have made the trip by himself, given the last time he’d fled with her and the chill she’d developed as a result.
With a rush of worry propelling his steps, he strode the rest of the distance to the Cranch home, bounded up the steps, and banged the gleaming brass knocker on the paneled front door.
In a matter of moments, Cranch greeted them. His surprise at seeing them vanished in the shadow of Ben’s concern over Susanna. Cranch ushered them in and led the way to an upstairs bedchamber. Ben deposited Susanna onto the bed and was determined to stay with her this time. But Mary insisted that Susanna needed privacy, and Cranch guided him back downstairs to his father’s study.
Ben tried to explain their predicament to Cranch, who grinned. “Oh, sure. You can speak of being a decoy and trying to outwit Lieutenant Wolfe, but you can’t fool me, you old dog.”
A servant handed Ben a tankard of flip. Steam spiraled from it and brought the waft of nutmeg. He nodded his thanks and took a swig. The creamy liquid made a path down Ben’s throat.
Cranch leaned back in the desk chair, letting the front two legs rise from the floor. He crossed his arms behind his head and then propped his boots onto the large mahogany desk in front of him. “I know exactly why you came.”
The hollow slap of footsteps overhead drew Ben’s attention to the high ceiling, to the room where Mary was tending Susanna. “If I’d had my way, I wouldn’t have involved Susanna in this whole escapade.”
“Just admit it. You wanted the chance to sneak her out of her home and spend time with her away from Mrs. Smith monitoring your every move.”
Ben lowered his gaze to the window next to the desk. The glass pane overlooked the spacious snow-covered gardens at the rear of the house, and in the appearance of the late afternoon sunshine, the crystals of fresh snow glinted like a sea of brilliant gems.
The time with Susanna had been equally beautiful in spite of the hard travel. She was like a sparkling gem. And after spending the day with her, he couldn’t imagine ever meeting another woman whom he could converse with as readily or speak with as openly about subjects that were both interesting and important.
But if he’d ever thought to win Mrs. Smith’s favor and fall into her good graces, the day with Susanna had most certainly destroyed any sliver of hope.
“Mrs. Smith will murder me when she learns Susanna isn’t at Mount Wollaston, and that I’ve brought her to Boston instead. And if she doesn’t kill me, then she’ll surely ban me from ever seeing Susanna again.” At least when he returned Susanna to her home, he would be able to lay claim to the desire to see Mary and Cranch, even if that wasn’t the real reason for their foray.
“Yes, I can think of better ways to endear yourself to Mrs. Smith’s good favor besides abducting her daughter and then marching the girl through the snow and cold all day.”
Ben sat back in the chair he’d taken near the fireplace. His shoulders sagged with fresh discouragement. “Don’t worry. I didn’t have Mrs. Smith’s favor to begin with. If she had her way, she’d toss me on the ground like carpet and wipe her feet on me.”
“I don’t think it really matters terribly much what Mrs. Smith thinks. Do you?”
“Of course it matters.” Ben took another gulp of the hot flip. “She wields a great deal of influence over Susanna.”
“Perhaps not as much as you believe. Susanna’s here, isn’t she? She obviously has a mind of her own and doesn’t want her mother telling her everything she should do and believe.” Cranch sat forward, letting the legs of his chair hit the floor with a thump. His eyes flashed with mischief. “Or perhaps she likes you enough to defy the wishes of her parents.”
“She might be saucy, but she won’t defy them when it comes to me.” She’d already proven she wasn’t willing to court him without their consent. “And I’m resigning myself to the fact that no matter how attractive I find Susanna, I’ll have to satisfy myself with friendship.”
“Friendship?” Cranch snorted a half laugh. “I’d like to see that.”
Ben started to shake his head.
But Cranch cut him off with another snort. “You won’t be able to maintain a platonic relationship with a woman you want to pull in your arms and kiss every time she steps near you.”
“I don’t want to kiss her every time.”
Cranch’s brow quirked. He dragged his feet from the desk and plopped them back to the floor. Then he reached for his tankard. He took a long drink, unable to hide his humor behind the tall mug.
They both knew how attracted Ben was to Susanna. There was no sense pretending otherwise, especially with Cranch.
“Perhaps I don’t want to kiss her every time I see her, but very close to that.”
Cranch swallowed his flip and then his grin spilled over again. “You mark my words, you’ll be married to her within six months.”
Ben shook his head. “I won’t pursue it. Not after I pledged to her that I would do my best to honor her request of friendship.”
Besides, didn’t he need to prove to himself that he was giving up his self-seeking ways when it came to a marriage partner?
For too long he’d believed he needed a suitable match in order to gain a reputation. He’d placed his hope in earning fame and prominence in the eyes of man. But he was finally beginning to understand his father’s admonition—the need to live with integrity, loving justice and mercy, and walking humbly with God.
With the dangerous course he’d embarked upon—defending the colonists against British oppression—he would likely face many difficult days ahead. If he chose to continue doing the right thing, he would have to sacrifice a great deal, including his reputation, fame, and fortune. He could very well become a wanted man, a criminal, a man condemned.
In fact, he had the feeling after yesterday’s chase he’d only made an enemy of Lieutenant Wolfe. And if the man had been dangerous before, he’d be even more so now. Nevertheless, Ben would take hope in the fact that the lieutenant’s days in Weymouth were numbered. He’d soon need to report back to his superiors in Boston his findings on the smuggling operations, which would amount to nothing if they were lucky. And if they got even luckier, the general would send Lt. Wolfe back to England for his failure.
Even so, the days of easy smuggling were over. They would have to continually be alert for searchers like Lieutenant Wolfe and for collectors and comptrollers who would squelch their freedoms.
During the past several weeks the colonists had started carting some of the molasses from Plymouth to Boston overland and storing it in barns and warehouses, smuggling it into Boston however they could—in farm carts, in fishing dinghies, and even in the back of chaises. Ben suspected they would have to continue with such underhanded methods in the days to come.
As if sensing the turn of his thoughts, Cranch’s smile faded, and he sat forward. “Susanna Smith is the right woman for you, Ben. Together the two of you will set out to conquer all the injustices in the world.”
Ben met his friend’s serious gaze. They both knew involving any woman into their lives was risky, that should either of them be captured for their rebellious leanings, their families would surely suffer.
But Susanna had proven she was willing to face adversity. She wasn’t afraid of doing what was right in the face of injustice. Maybe she wasn’t completely won over to the cause of liberty for the colonies, but she was moving in that direction. He’d seen the shifting tides within her.
Ben expelled a sigh. “I’ve already pushed Susanna away once in my eagerness for her. And I cannot risk it again. As much as my entire being longs for more, I must resist. I shall endeavor to remain friends, and friends only.”
Susanna’s body sagged with exhaustion. During the short time they visited with Mary and Mr. Cran
ch in Boston, Susanna slept overlong—to the point of embarrassment. The harrowing escapade outrunning Lieutenant Wolfe had surely taxed her beyond her capacities.
Ben insisted on leaving the following morning, and Mr. Cranch provided them the use of his sleigh. On one of his errands about town, Ben had heard rumors of a smallpox outbreak in Boston. And although he didn’t know if the news was true, Ben was anxious to see Susanna safely home, declaring that after the influenza epidemic, he didn’t want to chance any further exposure to illness.
As delighted as Susanna had been to see Mary again, she was anxious to travel home and ensure Dotty was safely in Hingham and that no harm had befallen any of her family on account of her actions.
The return trip to Weymouth with Ben was a quiet one, and she slept most of the ride there. As the sleigh crunched to a stop in front of the parsonage, Susanna tried to blink away the drowsiness that wouldn’t let go of her, along with the headache that had plagued her for the last half of the trip.
She lifted her head from Ben’s shoulder and stifled a shiver, even though her body wasn’t cold. Ben had stopped several times to refill the warming box under her feet, and the pile of robes Mr. Cranch had sent along had more than adequately kept her comfortable.
In fact, she was overheated.
Ben jumped from the sleigh and lifted a hand to assist her down. She pushed the blankets aside and let the coolness of the air bathe her hot skin.
“Are you ready to face the firing squad?” He glanced at the front window of the parsonage as if expecting her parents to storm outside with guns and swords.
Susanna’s gaze swept over the house, yard, and barn. From all appearances the home hadn’t suffered any more damage. Lieutenant Wolfe hadn’t come to seek revenge. She could only pray he hadn’t wrecked Mount Wollaston or hurt Grandmother Eve.
“Mother won’t be pleased with me.” If only she could take all the blame and save Ben from Mother’s wrath.
“Remember, you’ve done nothing for which you should be ashamed.” Ben’s outstretched hand waited for hers. “You’ve protected an innocent life from the hands of a brutal murderer.”
She placed her fingers into his, letting his strength soak through her skin. She looked into his eyes and allowed his clear honesty to infuse her with courage. No matter the consequences, no matter what happened, she’d done what was right. She couldn’t let fear slip back in and make her second-guess herself this time.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t have been able to save Dotty without your help.”
He smiled. “That’s what friends are for.”
She tried to smile back, but her lips couldn’t quite bend. Ben had certainly taken her request of friendship to heart over the past two days. In fact, she was almost disappointed with his ardency toward their friendship. He seemed determined to erect proper boundaries between them and not allow himself to cross them—not in the least.
And as confused as she’d been about their relationship, and as much as she’d wanted friendship with him, she had to admit, she longed for him to resume the affection he’d shown her previously.
“There you are, Miss Susie,” Tom called to her from the direction of the barn. He hobbled out of the open door, limping slowly, dragging one leg and using a cane. His back was stooped and his shoulders bent, and he still wore a bandage around his head to cover the gash in his scalp.
“You’re out of bed?” Susanna asked. “And you’re getting around well?”
Tom’s craggy face lit and he gave her a half smile, the muscles in one side of his face not working anymore. The lieutenant’s beating may have killed half of Tom’s body, but it couldn’t quench his life. “Don’t know if I’m getting around well, Miss Susie, but I’m managing.”
Susanna stood, but a wave of dizziness nearly sent her back to the sleigh’s curved bench. Only Ben’s grip on her hand kept her from tumbling.
He helped her down from the sleigh. When her feet touched the ground, she swayed with another wave of dizziness.
A crease formed between Ben’s brows. “You’re not well.”
She swallowed past the twinge of pain in her throat and shook her head. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—get sick now. “I’ll manage better. Once I get inside.”
Ben’s eyes flickered with concern.
But she glanced away before he could suspect just how much the trip had taxed her. Instead she focused on Tom, shuffling across the soggy farmyard. A hazy sunshine tried to break through a scattering of gray clouds and had already begun to melt the snow, leaving muddy puddles. The light illuminated Tom, revealing all the abrasions and bruises that his hat couldn’t hide.
Guilt wrenched her so painfully her knees wobbled. She’d done this to Tom. Her actions had surely battered him as much as the lieutenant’s hard boots.
“I think you should still be abed,” she said as he neared the horses.
“I couldn’t sleep. Not when I’ve been worried about you, Miss Susie.”
“No need to worry,” she said. “I’ve only been visiting Mary in Boston.”
Tom reached for the muzzle of one of the horses and stroked it with a soft murmur. But he looked at her with a raised brow, a look that told her he knew what she’d been doing and why, that she wouldn’t be able to fool him.
Susanna swallowed past the growing ache in her throat. She wanted to ask him if he’d heard any news about Dotty or about Lieutenant Wolfe. She wanted to discover what her parents knew before she had to face them.
But the front door opened then. “Susanna, my dear, there you are.” Her father stepped onto the porch.
Ben’s hand against hers flexed, and he set his mouth into a grim line.
She pressed his hand, hoping she could reassure him that she was stronger this time, that she would stand by his side and face her parents together.
“We’ve been so worried about you, my dear.” Wrinkles lined her father’s forehead.
Susanna forced what she hoped was a cheerful smile. “Please don’t worry, Father. We’ve only been to Boston to visit Mary and Mr. Cranch.” She pushed aside the whisper of her conscience that accused her of telling a half-truth.
“And how are my dear daughter and her new husband faring? Well, I hope?”
“They are perfectly fine.” She only wished she could say the same about herself.
She allowed Ben to lead her toward the house and prayed her parents wouldn’t ask too many questions. But her hopes were dashed the moment she stepped inside the house and Mother descended upon her.
“My gracious. Susanna Smith, you are a disgrace to this family,” Mother said as she glided down the hallway, her face a mask of calm fury.
Susanna’s legs trembled beneath the layers of her petticoats, and she slipped her hand into the crook of Ben’s arm, trying to keep herself from sinking to the hallway floor.
Did Mother finally know the truth about Dotty?
Father held out his arm toward Mother. “Now, dear, let’s not be hasty. Let’s allow Susanna time to explain. I’m sure she has a good explanation.”
“There’s absolutely no acceptable explanation for running off to Boston with Benjamin Ross.” In the dark shadows of the hallway, Mother’s face was pale. “No explanation whatsoever.”
“I take the blame,” Ben started. “I had business in Boston—”
“It was my fault,” Susanna cut in, her legs wobbling and beads of sweat forming on her forehead. “I take full responsibility. Ben wouldn’t have gone if not for me.”
But Mother had already spun to face Ben. “We told you to stay away from Susanna.”
The muscles in Ben’s jaw flexed.
“It’s not his fault, Mother,” Susanna said, desperation starting to rise in her. “I went to him.”
Mother only took another step toward Ben as if she would slap his face. “And now you’ve tainted Susanna’s reputation.”
Susanna waited for her parents to say something about Lieutenant Wolfe and Dotty. But apparently Gran
dmother Eve had managed to find a way to cover up his visit to Mount Wollaston without revealing his true motivation.
“I’m sorry for putting Susanna in a compromising situation,” Ben said.
The kitchen door opened and Phoebe slipped into the hallway, bringing the waft of broiled sturgeon and the sourness of fried cabbage and onions. The dark eyes searched Susanna before settling on her face.
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself.” Mother spat the words at Ben.
His shoulders stiffened.
“We’ve done nothing wrong.” Susanna fought back the pounding in her head, which seemed to grow louder with each passing minute.
“You were wrong to leave with this man.” Mother turned upon her. “You disobeyed us. We trusted you into Elbridge’s hands and expected you to stay with him at Grandmother’s home. You shouldn’t have gone to Boston with Mr. Ross, not without a chaperone.”
Susanna could feel herself slipping under the censure. She didn’t want to disappoint them.
“Mr. Ross,” Mother continued, “ever since Susanna has met your acquaintance, you’ve been an extremely poor influence upon her.”
Susanna wanted to shout that she’d once believed the same thing, and that of late she was learning much from him about courage and taking a stand for what was right, even when everyone else said it was wrong. But she couldn’t muster the energy to voice her thoughts.
Ben held himself erect like an unbending nail, letting Mother hammer him, taking blow after blow. Even though he didn’t say anything, Susanna could see his chest expanding, as if he were holding in the angry words he wanted to express.
“I demand you leave our house this instant.” Mother pointed at the door behind them. “And I must request that you refrain from coming again.”
Ben didn’t move.
From the shadows of the hallway, Phoebe’s expression urged her to stay strong, that this was one of those times when Susanna could make a change, that it was within her grasp to bring about a better way of doing things.
Susanna’s cloak suffocated her, hot and oppressive. She tossed back the hood and tugged at the strings to loosen it, her fingers trembling as much as her legs.
