Labor of Love

by Felicia Rogers

  “Samuel, are ye listening to me?”

  “Aye. Would ye go on an outing with me tomorrow?” he blurted.

  Sorcha was speechless. Flitting emotions crossed her face. Would she reason she shouldn’t go on an outing and then say no? His heart skipped a beat.

  “Aye.”

  Samuel rewarded her with his biggest and brightest smile. Leading his mare out of the stall, he lifted himself astride, and took off down the road before she could change her mind.

  Chapter Two

  Sorcha snuck into the house and headed straight for the loft. It was little more than the peak of the roof, but it was hers. As long as Festus was visiting, she had no intentions of sitting downstairs with the family.

  As she lay on her pallet on the rough boarded floor, she could hear her mother cleaning the kitchen. She knew she should be helping her, but since Festus had attacked her she didn’t help do much of anything around the house. She wasn’t trying to punish her mother, she was trying to avoid being alone with her. If she was alone with her mother for even a brief time, she would beg her to leave Lorcan Breslin and his vile offspring, forever.

  Downstairs the men talked. Sorcha crawled to the top of the staircase and listened to the whispering below.

  “I tell ye, ye shouldn’t have touched Sorcha.”

  “Aw, Pa, she was askin’ for it. She was always hanging around and looking at me.”

  “Ye big tomfool, she was hanging around because she lived here, and she was looking at ye because ye are a big stupid dolt!”

  “Aw, Pa.”

  “Don’t, ‘aw, Pa’, me. I’m surprised the authorities haven’t showed up and asked more questions. It is becoming clearer and clearer every day her accusations against ye weren’t as false as ye said.”

  “Aw, Pa, I tell ye she has a bed warmer, and she is using me as a goat.”

  “A goat?”

  “Aye, one of those goats.”

  “Ye mean a scapegoat?”

  “Aye. Although I am not sure why anyone would want to scrape a goat.”

  Lorcan slapped his palm to his forehead. “Now, Festus, ye listen to me.”

  “Aye, Pa?”

  “I want ye to go away, and lay low for a bit.”

  “Ye want me to go away and lay low?”

  “Aye, go away and lay low.”

  Festus tapped his finger against his head for a brief moment. “Well I reckon I can put my bed roll right upon the ground, maybe even down into a ditch, and that might get me pretty low.”

  There was the sound of a slap, and Sorcha stifled a laugh at Festus’ stupidity.

  Lorcan sighed. “No boy, I mean ye need to hide for a while. If we can catch Sorcha with another man, then we can claim he is the father and ye are innocent.”

  “So ye want me to hide, not lay low?”

  “Aye, hide.”

  “Sure I can do that. How long do I need to hide? Because my friend is going to be hankering to wed soon, and since her father promised me a nice heifer as a dowry I don’t want to miss out on that.”

  Lorcan looked at his son and groaned. “We will make plans in the morning, just scurry on out to the stable and get some sleep.”

  “Aw, Pa do I have to? I mean Sorcha is right upstairs, and she might be cold.”

  Sorcha shivered at his words. She had vowed he would never touch her again, even if she had to hang for her deeds.

  Lorcan was finally on her side about something and popped a nice slap up the backside of Festus’ large, round head. “Boy, don’t ye listen to a thing I say? Get your sorry hide outside, and tomorrow ye will be leaving for parts unknown until I tell ye to come back.”

  Sorcha quietly left the top step and lay down. The last thing she heard before drifting off to sleep was the slam of the front door closing behind her disgruntled step-brother.

  ****

  Sorcha wasn’t sure where she was supposed to meet up with the minister for their outing, but she hoped it wasn’t in the village. After the conversation from the night before, it wouldn’t do for Lorcan to see her and try to claim she had been intimate with the minister. She blushed furiously at the mere thought.

  “Do ye always do that?”

  Sorcha jumped at the sound of Samuel’s voice behind her. When she regained control of her tongue she asked, “Always do what?”

  “Turn red in the face.”

  “Must be the heat.” It was a lie, but telling him the truth wouldn’t help matters.

  “Humph,” was his only reply. Today he looked different. Brown robe gone, replaced by a white tunic and a pair of tartan trews. Short brown neatly combed. His brown eyes warm and inviting, he resembled a normal man.

  She had never seen tartan trews before and was intensely curious. “Are those ye clan colors?”

  “Aye, they are.”

  “The Cameron clan, aye?”

  “Aye, lassie the Cameron clan,” he said, adding an extra Scottish lilt.

  She giggled. “Ye look quite different in ordinary clothing, Minister.”

  “Please, call me Samuel.”

  “Aye, Samuel.” She waited, shuffling her feet across the dry ground. “Where are we going for this outing?”

  “Hmm…an excellent question. Maybe ye know of a nice spot?”

  “Aye, I believe I might.” Sorcha led him on foot for what seemed like hours. They crossed rocks and small streams, her feet hurting through the thin soles of her shoes. When they stopped, they were at the top of a small hill. The valley they just left was spread before them..

  “This is beautiful.”

  “If ye say so,” said Sorcha. Adding softly, “At least we are away from prying eyes and wagging tongues.”

  ****

  Samuel didn’t know what to say. He assumed in her current condition she had a lot of experience with both of those things. Before talking or commenting, he pulled food from the basket and placed the items where they could eat. He had yet to complete the task when she placed a silent restraining hand on his arm and took over.

  He sat back and watched as she deftly spread out the food in an artistic arrangement. The night before she hadn’t helped her mother set the table, and at this moment he realized it wasn’t from lack of experience. What had happened to stop her from helping? What had caused her to remain silent in the presence of her family and the villagers?

  Curiosity was driving him mad. His brother, Grant, had warned him that one of these days his love for the Protestant faith and his curiosity would get him in trouble, and his brother was right more often than not.

  “Samuel, what are ye looking at?”

  Samuel was taken aback by her sudden frankness. Most people who knew her from the village said she was a shy, quiet child. Did they really know her? He was beginning to think not. The strong, sure voice the lass used was a tad unexpected and caused him to answer more honestly than he might have otherwise. “Well lass, I was looking at ye.”

  “Oh,” escaped her lips. She looked at him with her brow furrowed and added, “Why?”

  Samuel leaned against the rocks and pondered his answer. There, of course were several reasons he stared at her. First, he had never seen her do a household chore. Second, he was enthralled with the way her fingers and hands moved as they arranged the food. Third, he enjoyed looking at her. Question was, which answer would he give her?

  Sitting with her legs folded under her, she placed her hands on her hips in a haughty pose. “Now, Samuel that was a simple question. What seems to be yer problem in answering it?”

  He did a deep guttural laugh. He was happy to see she was to be an interesting companion after all. “Simple, is it? Why, lass there are many reasons a man might have to stare at a beautiful woman.”

  As the word beautiful fell from Samuel’s lips, tears welled in Sorcha’s big green eyes and slipped down her cheeks. He came forward and used his knuckle to gently wipe them away. “Sorcha is an unusual name. It means bright, radiant, princess, aye?”

  “Aye, it does. It
was my father’s choice for me.” She waited then added, “Beautiful, ye say?”

  Samuel sent her a genuine smile and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Aye, beautiful.”

  He placed his hands on either sides of her hips and pulled her gently back to the rock, squeezing her against his side. Her tears soon became choking, agonized sobs as she rested her weary head against his broad shoulder.

  She spoke in a strangled whisper, “How can ye possibly say I’m beautiful? Have ye not looked at me?”

  Samuel couldn’t help but chuckle. Since he arrived in the village five months prior that had been about all he could do, look at her. His brother would have been ashamed to know it had taken him this long to ask the girl to court, although they weren’t officially courting at the moment. Half of the village would likely die of shock if they realized he was all alone with Sorcha. Sighing to himself, he decided to worry about that little detail later.

  He grasped Sorcha’s chin and elevated her face to eye level. “Why would ye think ye weren’t beautiful?”

  She stared at him incredulously, her hands moved in an up and down motion along her body indicating the mass that extended from her abdomen. “Now Samuel, ye are not stupid nor is ye blind. Ye know I am expecting another man’s child.” She stopped then added in a near whisper, shame coating every word. “I am not pure and I never will be.”

  Her feelings of shame caused him to hesitate. His next words stunned her. “Yer babe only makes ye more beautiful.”

  “What?” Sorcha said, the word echoing off the rocks.

  “Aye, ye are fairly glowing lass. And just so ye know, a man finds a woman who can bear children verra attractive, because it means his line will carry on.”

  She lowered her head farther. “But I am not pure.”

  Again Samuel forced her to look at him as he spoke. “The Lord can wash ye white as snow. Besides, it is my understanding ye didn’t set out to lose yer purity, more like it was stolen from ye.”

  This time the tears raced down her cheeks, and she remained silent. When she finally answered she was quiet, and Samuel strained to hear. “Aye, it was stole.”

  “I am willing to listen if ever ye need to speak of it.”

  With that simple act of kindness, the whole story flooded forth. “We lived in Offaly County when men who worked for Queen Mary of England and King Phillip of Spain came in and ousted us off our land. My pa had passed a few years back, and Ma and I were just barely making it by the skin of our teeth, so it didn’t seem to matter.”

  Sorcha fidgeted, twisting strands of her hair around her finger. “We had nowhere to go. We knew we wouldn’t be able to stay much longer on the farm. My ma remembered Pa had an aunt who lived not too far away, so we loaded up and came to the village. We were fortunate the aunt was still livin’ as the people in the village were verra suspicious of newcomers.”

  She pushed her hair back and adjusted her body so she leaned against the same rock as him.

  “After a few months, the single men in the village started to notice my ma, her being a pretty woman and still young and all. Lorcan took a shining to her right off. Can’t say I blame him. Not only is she pretty to look at, but she is a hard worker too.

  “Anyway, they courted for a while then got married, and we moved in with him. We didn’t even know about Festus. Ma and Lorcan went into town for supplies and left me at the house alone, and well, Festus,” she grimaced as she spoke his name, “he came home for a visit. He found me in the stables giving hay to the horses, and he fell on me and…”

  She struggled with words, and Samuel placed a hand on her arm. “I understand.”

  She nodded in relief. “I told everyone what happened, but no one believed me. Festus told them he didn’t lay a hand on me. Well now it is going to get a little harder for him to deny,” she patted her stomach, and a low growl emitted, causing both of them to laugh.

  He changed the subject. “I think someone is hungry.”

  “Aye, I’m famished,” she giggled.

  Samuel filled her plate with food and handed it to her. She ate in silence. When she finished she looked at him. “Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “For listening. For not calling me a liar. For being a good friend.”

  Samuel smiled, hiding his grimace. The truth was he wanted to be more than a friend. He wanted to spend the rest of his life holding her in his arms and offering her comfort. He wanted to protect her from the harshness of the world. He wanted to be a father to her child and all her future children. He ached to tell her these things but he knew in his heart it was too soon to share such feelings.

  Instead, he said, “Ye are welcome. I would do the same for any of Christ’s children.”

  Sorcha’s brows drew together and the corner of her lips turned downward. “Aye, I know ye would.”

  Samuel cleaned up the food to hide his face. Now why had he done that? He had gone and ruined a perfectly good day.

  They packed in silence and walked back toward the village. Before they entered, Sorcha grabbed him and pulled him behind a large tree.

  Desperation lined her voice. “Samuel, we can’t be seen together.”

  “Why not?”

  He didn’t know if it was for the obvious reasons that he had been alone with an unwed woman, or if there was something else on her mind. Then she told him of Lorcan and Festus’ plot to find another man to pin Festus’ deed on. Samuel started to tell her it didn’t matter, because no one would believe it of him and because the time wouldn’t add up. But in the end, he realized the rumors of him taking advantage of a girl could ruin his reputation and thereby his ministry.

  “What do ye suggest?”

  “Perhaps we should enter the village separately. Ye can go in this way and I will run down, cross the creek, and come in from the other side.”

  “Sorcha that may not be a good idea. What if ye fall? Nay, I will go to the creek, and ye continue on this way.”

  “Samuel yer over — protectiveness is sweet, but I go to the creek all the time. Besides ye might get lost.”

  He grabbed his chest in mock horror. “Ye wound me lass.”

  “How so?”

  “Sweet? I was going for valiant, chivalrous.”

  Sorcha fell into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. Her hands came up to hide her little girl giggle. They parted ways with the intention of meeting again soon.

  Chapter Three

  Sorcha worried for the rest of the day. She should never have allowed Samuel to go through the creek. Why even local men had tried to cross parts of it, fell into the water, and been covered up to their necks. Some of them had drowned before they could release their feet from the earthly mire.

  She needed to occupy her worried mind. Her mother worked in the kitchen, and Lorcan fussed with the animals outside. Festus was “lying low,” which Sorcha still found amusing.

  Sunlight filtered into the front room as she searched for a diversion. A smile lifted the corner of her lips as she headed outside.

  Finding her favorite tree, she sat in front of it and leaned back. She placed her legs out straight in front of her, crossing them at the ankles. Once her gown lay down properly she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

  Tiny prickles raced across her body. Bending her legs, she drew them closer ready to spring if Festus was nearby. She opened her eyes and lifted her chin.

  When her eyes focused, she was staring at a very wet, but smiling Samuel. He was being chased around the yard by a group of riotous children. The children were flinging buckets of water on him. He would allow them to hit him then he would lean over and shake like a wet dog spraying them with a multitude of small droplets. When a drop of his water would reach them, they would run from him squealing in delight.

  Sorcha was glad to see he had made it back to the village with nary a visible injury. Leaning back and getting comfortable once more, she watched as he continued to play with the children.

  ****<
br />
  Several days passed, and Sorcha didn’t see Samuel. Louisa heard through the grapevine that a large group of Protestant refugees had shown up at Samuel’s home. Perhaps his absence was because he was busy caring for them?

  A few of the village women offered to help but he refused. No one took offense at his negative reply. They knew he was trying to protect them.

  Festus stayed at bay. Lorcan ignored her. Her mother continued to talk at her. Had her silence been so profound in the last six months it was if she no longer existed? Sorcha hated to admit it, but she missed Samuel. He was the only one who had taken time to listen to her.

  Tired of being a decoration, she decided to take a walk. The small village was unusual in design. Cleared of trees, the houses formed a circle.

  Outside the circle and into the surrounding wood, she watched for wild animals or humans. Her quiver rested on her back full of arrows if she needed them.

  With no direction in mind, Sorcha just walked. When she stopped, she was in a waist high field of wild daisies. Passing through the field, she plucked a flower here and there, holding it to her nose. She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent. Dreamlike, Sorcha twisted around, striking her foot on an object, she toppled forward.

  The arrows fell haphazardly toward the ground. The quiver bounced. Expecting a painful thump to her face when she smacked the unforgiving earth, she was surprised when it didn’t happen. A pair of arms shot out and grabbed her.

  “Whoa, lass.”

  Startled, her eyes widened. “Samuel?”

  The corner of his lip lifted in a grin. “Aye, lass.”

  “H — how did ye get here?” In a small area close by, the grass was mashed down. Until you walked right up on it the place was completely hidden.

  He laughed. Rubbing a hand over his thick hair, he said, “I will admit it wasn’t easy. I had no idea where you were headed. I could only pray this was yer intent.”

  “But, how?”

  “I just moved beside ye in the trees, going the same direction, only a little faster.”