by Jody Hedlund
Why then was her heart so full of melancholy?
The experience with Dotty had shown her the need to stand up for the poor and disadvantaged, to show love and mercy to them, even if she had to disobey her earthly authorities to do so. She couldn’t hide behind fear and make excuses for doing what was right.
Surely after such a lesson she could proceed forth with renewed vigor, continue with her dame school, and find additional ways to help women who were disadvantaged.
A soft rap on the door sent a shiver of anticipation through her. Had he finally come? She sat up and smoothed her hair back.
The door opened a crack, and Mother peeked in.
Susanna’s heart dipped with disappointment. But she forced herself to offer her mother a welcoming smile. At the very least, she had to acknowledge Mother’s support during the past awful days. Never once had her mother reprimanded her for her involvement with Dotty.
Mother stepped into the room, the layers of her gown rustling and bringing the faint scent of her lavender perfume. “I have a letter for you.”
Mother crossed to her, and Susanna held her breath, praying she finally had news from Ben.
With trembling fingers Susanna took the crisply folded sheet. At the sight of the scrawled handwriting on the front, she sagged. It wasn’t Ben’s strong print.
“It’s from Elbridge.” Mother bustled to the window and threw back the thick curtains. “He called earlier this morning and delivered it.”
“I don’t want to read it. You can burn it.”
“He’s only wanting to apologize for his involvement with the young runaway,” Mother said as she tied the curtains, allowing the daylight to chase the shadows from the room. “Perhaps he was misguided in his interfering, but he only wanted to ensure your well-being.”
“I won’t be courted by him, Mother.” Susanna trembled at the defiance in her words.
Mother strode to the fireplace and added another log from the woodbox.
Susanna sat up straighter and prayed for courage. Tom had admonished her not to let fear take hold of her and stop her from doing the right thing. She’d done that with the trial. She’d fooled Phoebe into thinking she was sleeping, but had instead sneaked out of the parsonage and ridden to the meetinghouse. She’d had enough courage to drag her weak and sick body there so that she could turn herself in to the lieutenant rather than let Tom or Ben take the blame for her crimes.
Couldn’t she summon the courage to face Mother now?
“I won’t marry Elbridge,” she said louder.
Still Mother didn’t say anything. Instead she poked at the embers, fanning the flames higher.
Susanna clutched the knit blanket. “I know you only want what’s best for me, but I can’t marry someone I don’t love. I don’t love Elbridge, and I never will.”
Mother returned the poker to its hook and then turned to face Susanna. Disappointment creased her regal features.
Susanna hesitated, fighting the ghosts of doubt that rose up suddenly to haunt her with all the fears she’d once had, reminding her that she needed to marry well. That if she didn’t, she’d give up the comforts and status she’d always had.
But what did all the status and wealth in the world mean if her life was devoid of love? Surely she would find greater happiness and contentment if she could spend her life with a man who not only respected and cherished her for who she was, but whom she adored, trusted, and respected as the truest and best of friends. How could she ever ask for anything more?
“I love Ben.”
“I know,” Mother said softly.
“You do?”
“I’ve noticed it for some time. I’d hoped to divert you. But I can see now my efforts have been futile.”
“I realize all I’d have to give up to be with him,” Susanna said quickly, “but I’d gain so much more of what really matters.”
Mother smoothed her hand over the silky layers of her skirt. “I have always said you are rather wild, Susanna.”
Susanna nodded. Indeed she’d always wanted more of her life than Mother believed appropriate for a woman. Perhaps she would be ever straining against the rules and expectations that restricted her. Perhaps she wouldn’t break free, but could she not at least help loosen the constraints for her daughters and the women who would come after her?
“Grandmother Eve once bade me to look beyond the outward qualifications of a man and to consider his heart. She entreated me not to make the same mistake she did by rejecting love for earthly gains.” And although Grandmother Eve hadn’t divulged the name of the long-ago suitor she’d rejected, Susanna couldn’t help but wonder if the dear woman’s concern and defense of Hermit Crab Joe had anything to do with the past.
She supposed it would forever remain a mystery.
“I shall endeavor to mark a new course for myself—to marry for love rather than personal gain.”
“I think you resemble your Grandmother Quincy much more than you have ever resembled me.”
“No, Mother.” Susanna gazed into the strong, determined eyes of the woman standing before her. “You have given me much strength in character for which I’m grateful. And you have modeled to me a love for other women—for those less fortunate than myself. I’m indebted to you for much.”
“But you will never be content living an ordinary life.” Mother’s lips curved into a gentle smile. “I believe you were born to do greater things.”
The words of confidence spread over Susanna and warmed her.
Mother bent and placed a kiss upon her head.
A joyful swell pressed against Susanna’s chest.
Mother took Elbridge’s unopened letter, strode to the fire, and tossed it in. Then she stood back and watched the flames turn it into curling black wisps that disintegrated into ash.
“You will do those great things beside a great man.” Mother lifted her chin and started toward the door. “And that man is waiting for you downstairs. I shall send him up to see you now.”
Susanna’s pulse quickened. Ben was there?
Her mother slipped through the door.
Susanna wished she could rush after Mother and wrap her arms around her in a hug. But she knew, even if she had the strength for such a display, Mother wouldn’t have approved. A kiss on the brow would have to suffice.
With her heart pounding, Susanna straightened her nightdress and smoothed at the loose strands of her hair again. She closed his book, then opened it again. She crossed her feet, then uncrossed them.
If only she’d had time to change into her new pink polonaise and to dab a drop of rose water to her neck.
But the clomping of heavy boots on the stairs was followed by rapid footfalls in the hallway. In an instant her door swung open and Ben filled the doorway.
He stopped short as if he’d wanted to charge into the room but had decided at the last second to show restraint. He swiped his hat from his head.
Nervous happiness sifted through Susanna. She wasn’t sure why he’d waited so long to see her, but it didn’t matter anymore. He was there.
He crumpled the brim of his hat in his fingers and glanced down to his old hunting shirt, stained breeches, scuffed work boots, and spatterdashes. “I apologize for visiting you this way, Susanna.”
“Don’t apologize.” She wanted to say she was glad to see him, but there was something reserved in his eyes that dampened her joy.
“I didn’t stop to think. I should have changed.” He stepped into the room. “It’s just that when I got the letter, I was excited and wanted to share it with you.”
“Letter?” So he hadn’t come to declare his love for her again?
He glanced over his shoulder into the hallway as if making sure they were alone, then pulled a soggy sheet out of his coat pocket.
“It’s from Red,” he said in a hushed voice as he moved closer to her.
“Who’s Red?”
Ben kneeled in front of her and placed the note in her lap. “Sergeant Frazel.”
Since the trial, no one had been able to locate Lieutenant Wolfe’s assistant. And the lieutenant had been in too much of a hurry to return to Boston to worry about his assistant’s whereabouts.
“He has news of Dotty.”
“Oh.” The one word contained all the anxiety she’d held in her heart the past days.
“Don’t worry. It’s good news.”
“Then don’t delay. Do tell.”
He unfolded the letter and spread it out. “They’re heading west to the frontier. He wants to find land to farm. He said he plans to marry Dotty the first chance they have.”
Susanna could only stare at Ben, trying to make sense of the news.
“He’ll take good care of her, and together they can begin a new life where no one will know or care about their past.”
“He deserted the army?” She knew she shouldn’t be surprised. The young officer hadn’t seemed quite suited to his work.
“It happens all the time.”
Susanna released the tension in her shoulders, letting the good news sink in.
“He said he was the one who left the bag of shoes for us.”
“And the shoes will be enough evidence to convict the lieutenant for the murders?”
“I’ll do my best.” Ben’s smile of excitement wrapped around her heart, and she couldn’t keep a smile of her own from forming. “So, what do you think?”
“I think you’re an amazing man, Benjamin Ross.”
His gaze alighted on her dimple and then dropped to her mouth. Was he remembering the kiss he’d given her at the meetinghouse in full view of the entire parish?
Of course, Mother had been aghast at Ben’s brazenness. But Susanna felt fresh longing every time she thought about how his lips had moved against hers and demanded a response from her.
Would he kiss her again?
“Ben . . .” she breathed softly, hoping he’d claim her. Surely he could see her desire and her love for him.
His smile faded and he turned to leave.
“Wait.” She captured his hand. For a reason she couldn’t understand, she was losing him. He was putting a wall between them just when she’d believed all the barriers were finally gone. “Don’t go yet.”
“I came to give you the news, Susanna.” Gently he slipped his hand out of hers. “But I can’t stay. I need to return to the farm to my work.”
“You came all this way. Can you not stay for a little while longer?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I thought we were friends.” She hated the whine in her voice, but she couldn’t prevent it.
The muscles in his face tightened. “I’m sorry, Susanna. I know you’d like to remain friends,” he whispered. “But I cannot. Not anymore.”
“Whatever for?” The despair churned faster. “After what you said at the meetinghouse, I thought you cared about me.”
Pain flashed across his face. “Of course I care about you.”
“But . . .”
“But I could never be satisfied with a simple friendship when everything within me demands so much more.”
She pushed herself out of her chair and stood, letting the book that had been in her lap clatter to the floor. “I love you, Benjamin Ross. And everything within me demands more as well.”
At her declaration, his eyes widened.
“I should have told you much sooner,” she said, “but I didn’t realize it until just recently. I was confused . . . and I was a coward.”
He studied her. “What will your parents say about your love for me?” He glanced again at his worn, homespun garments.
“It doesn’t matter what they think. Besides, my mother allowed you to visit, did she not?” She attempted to give him a smile, but he didn’t smile back.
Before he could move away and distance himself from her further, she closed the gap between them. She knew she was being much too forward. But as her mother had said, she was too wild. She wound her arms around his neck. “What matters is us. Our future together. Our love. Our happiness.”
For a moment, he held himself rigid.
She was afraid maybe he’d push her away, that she’d hurt him too many times and now he didn’t want her anymore.
Finally, he groaned and slid his hands around her waist. “Susanna,” he murmured, drawing her closer, “I can’t resist you, no matter how hard I try.”
She pressed her face into his shirt and breathed the earthy scent that permeated the fabric. Then, closing her eyes, she relished the soft warmth of his lips.
“After all the recent danger, I know I should put you far away from me to keep you safe.” His lips grazed her temple. “I have the premonition Lieutenant Wolfe will only be the first of many enemies I’ll make in my life. And I don’t want to subject you to that kind of life—”
Again she lifted her lips to his, cutting off his words and silencing him the same way he’d silenced her at the trial. She leaned into him with a boldness that contained all the love she had for him. She let her mouth possess his, and he met her with all the heat and force of his passion—his passion for life, for those he chose to defend, for the causes he believed in.
He was a passionate man, just the kind of man she needed.
If only she could convince him of the same . . .
“I see what you’re attempting to do,” he said in a ragged voice, dragging his lips away from hers and making a warm trail across her jaw to the tender spot below her ear.
She gasped and arched to give him admission to more of her.
His hand splayed across the small of her back, urging her closer. “You’re trying to make me forget all the reasons why we shouldn’t be together,” he murmured against her skin.
“Is it working?” she whispered.
He stopped then and pulled back. A gentle smile played at his lips, and his eyes shone with the clarity of his love. “Yes. It’s working very well.”
She smiled.
His eyes softened even more. “And every time you give me one of your smiles, I’m helpless to do anything but what you wish.”
“Then I shall have to smile often.”
“But will I be able to give you enough to smile about?” He caressed the line of her cheekbone. “I don’t want you to come to regret all that you gave up to be with me.”
“I can only think of all I will sacrifice if I do not have you by my side the rest of my life.”
“But what about the danger I could possibly bring to you? You know I’ve not exactly chosen the safest course of life.”
“Old Tom once told me that God hasn’t given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and love, and a sound mind.” She grazed the scratchy stubble on his cheeks that he’d neglected to shave. “I think with the two of us together we’ll be unstoppable, don’t you think?”
“Is that a proposal, Miss Smith?”
“Why, Mr. Ross.” She tilted her head coyly. “I’d like to think of it as an extension of our friendship.”
He bent and placed a kiss in the crook of her neck.
Warmth spread through her belly, tightening it with anticipation.
As if sensing his effect on her, he lifted his head and grinned again. “I’ll only agree to a friendship if it involves a great deal of kissing.”
“Very well.” She brushed her lips against his cheek. “Only the utmost of kissing.”
His eyes brimmed with adoration. “Then you shall be my dearest of friends.”
“And you shall also be my dearest of friends.”
“Forever. Until I draw my dying breath.”
She nodded, her heart swelling with joy. “Shall we seal our agreement with a kiss, then?”
“Most certainly.”
She leaned in and let her mouth linger against the lips of the man she loved.
Author’s Note
Rebellious Heart is inspired by one of history’s most famous couples, John and Abigail Adams, the second President of the United States and his First Lad
y. They are often admired for their loving marriage, which spanned a length of over fifty years, the travails of at least two wars, including the Revolutionary War, as well as thousands of miles and long years of separation.
This book is my attempt to loosely recreate the early years of their courtship. While there are countless biographies that bring to life their marriage and all the great things they accomplished during their years of service to the young American nation, there is very little recorded about their early love affair. Only eight of their letters before April of 1764 survived among the hundreds they wrote to each other.
As I studied the information available in biographies and original letters, I tried to piece together John and Abigail’s personalities, beliefs, interests, homes, and family backgrounds, along with the assortment of incidents and facts that we know about their early years together. Then as with any work of fiction, I allowed my imagination to invent and weave together the rest of their courtship the way it could have happened.
Thus Rebellious Heart is truly a work of fiction. I make no claims at being an expert on the lives of John and Abigail Adams. There are those who have devoted their life’s work to studying these famous Americans and know far more than I ever could.
While my book is not a perfect or complete representation of the Adamses, I do hope this story will give you a glimpse into their lives and their love, and perhaps a new appreciation for this famous couple. Perhaps you may even go on to do more reading and research about them on your own. If so, I highly recommend three biographies: Abigail Adams by Woody Holton; Dearest Friend: A Life of Abigail Adams by Lynne Withey; and John Adams by David McCullough.
As with my other books that are inspired by real couples from history, you might be wondering what events within the story really happened and what I invented for the sake of telling a riveting story.
Abigail Adams really did have a passion for helping women. She assisted her mother in delivering food and supplies to the poor widows in their parish. Abigail had a charitable instinct and began to argue for the improved legal rights and education of women during a time when women were denied equality.
