The intrusion of his wife’s name squelched the rush of tenderness Lily felt for John. Reminding herself yet again that he was a man known for his kind words to everyone and that she had no reason to feel slighted, she forced a light note into her tone. “Well in truth, Davy can be quite the handful from time to time. But I do love watching our little Emma trying to act the grown-up young lady.”
John sighed, drawing her attention to him as a wistful flash of regret creased his forehead. “I’m missing so many of their growing-up years. I know I’ll never get them back.”
“Perhaps. But you are putting your life at risk patrolling along the Susquehanna River. Every day you and the rest of the militiamen put yourselves between the war parties and us. That’s worth a lot.”
He gave a noncommittal shrug. “Sorry to say, the war’s not going well at the moment. And Susan has gotten so much worse…. Even I can see that. I must demand this time that all of you leave here for Philadelphia.”
His words troubled Lily. She shook out his still-warm shirt and draped it over a chairback as his resonant voice went on.
“If you could have the family’s clothing packed by Monday morning, I’d be able to travel with you—at least as far as the mouth of the Susquehanna. I’ll sign off on your bond papers, so once you get my dear ones to Susan’s family, you’ll be free to travel on to your sister’s.”
So John had also thought about her indenturement contract nearing its conclusion. She replaced the iron on its heating plate on the hearth and turned to face him. “If you’re worried about me leaving before the war ends, pray be at rest. I assure you I would never abandon Susan and the children. I love them far too much.”
His deep blue eyes slanted downward as a grateful grin spread across his features. “I never for a moment thought you’d abandon them. In fact, I’d planned to pay extra for your irreplaceable service to my family until the war ends. Even after that, if you’re not opposed to remaining with us. But now with Susan having grown so much worse, I fear her only hope is that her father will hire the best physicians his money can afford. There’s no other recourse.”
Lily had to be honest with him as she met his gaze with an unwavering one of her own. “Perhaps had we gone, as you urged her, last fall, things would be different now. But I’m afraid leaving here at the moment is no longer possible. Surely you can see that.”
He didn’t respond right away. Lowering his head, he rubbed a hand over his face, then looked up with a kind of desperation he’d never before shown. “Her need to be under the care of a competent doctor is so urgent now. I won’t accept her argument any longer, that she always wants to be here when I get leave.”
“John.” Lily spoke frankly, despite knowing her words would inflict unbearable pain. “I doubt Susan would survive as much as the wagon ride to the Swatara. Even if she could, there’s the matter of days she’d have to spend on a damp keelboat afterward and then the trip from the mouth of the river on to Philadelphia. I understand it’s at least fifty miles overland to the city, or a weeklong voyage around the Chesapeake peninsula. Such a journey in her fragile condition is out of the question. It’s been three months since she’s been able to endure even the brief wagon ride to the MacBrides’ for church. I’m grateful everyone loves her so much they’re willing to crowd in here every week so she can be part of the service.”
“So am I, Lily-girl. So am I.” John’s attempt at a smile was a pitiful failure. He remained silent for so long, Lily was loath to intrude on his thoughts. Finally he spoke again. “I still have to believe there’s a way to make this happen. I’ll speak to the men tomorrow to see what can be done.”
At a loss as to how to answer such blind faith, Lily turned back to the fire to check the potatoes. Susan’s worst fear had now become hers. If they were all sent to Philadelphia, she’d be expected to travel on afterward to Mariah’s. She would never see John again.
Chapter 3
With a mixture of pride and sadness, John helped his sons bring in boards for the neighbors to sit on during the Sabbath service. The boys had grown up so much since he’d been in the militia. Already Matt sported muscles in his upper arms, and farm chores were broadening his hands. Even his expression had a mature seriousness about it, and eyes once alight with a youthful tendency to mischief now radiated a kind of sadness in their blue depths. Would Luke also be forced to relinquish his childhood so quickly?
“That keg needs to be a couple of feet closer to the wall, Pa,” his younger son commented as he hefted one end of a long board.
John grinned and complied. Today the boys were directing him, not the other way around. As they set up this last bench, he tried to envision six fairly large families occupying the eight rows facing the hearth. “Has another family moved away while I was gone?”
Matt straightened. “No. Only the Thorntons and Bakers left the cove. Everyone else is still around.”
“You sure there’ll be enough room for them all? Last time I counted there were forty-seven folks hereabouts.”
Lily’s airy, feminine voice rang out. “That was before our two new babies. We now have forty-nine.”
John turned to her. He almost didn’t recognize the willowy young woman standing in the doorway of the room she shared with Emma. Instead of her everyday homespun, she’d donned one of the better gowns she’d brought from England, altered now to fit her slender, womanly curves. In a shiny fabric of cornflower blue, with lace adorning the neck and dripping from elbow-length sleeves, the gown projected a delicate tinge of blue to her gray eyes. With her wheat-gold locks swept back and up into a cluster of ringlets, she looked exceptionally fetching.
“The Randalls normally listen from up in the loft.” Lily glided gracefully toward the hearth and looked about, as if approving the placement of the benches.
John let out a slow breath when Matt’s voice drew his attention away from their bond servant. “That’s why we swung our beds crossways and moved ’em closer to the railing.”
He flicked a glance up to see that the three cots now made one long bench.
Lily moved to the wooden board below the window. “Of course, with five extra men here, we’ll all need to sit much closer than we usually do.” She began shelving the breakfast dishes that had been left to air dry. “Mayhap we can set some of the wiggly tots like Davy on our laps.”
“I’m not takin’ him.” Luke smirked.
Chuckling, John ruffled the boy’s unruly brown locks, noting they could use a little more slicking down. “Don’t worry. I’ll hold the squirt.”
“Good.” Luke raked his hair with his fingers, trying to restore the limited order. “With you sittin’ with us, maybe Robby Randall won’t try to crowd in so’s he can sit by Lily.” He rolled his blue eyes in disgust.
Matt snickered. “Can you believe it? With old Mr. Randall off with the militia, Robby thinks he’s man enough to come sniffin’ around her.”
Glancing over at the subject of the conversation, John caught a new flush of color pinkening the back of her slender neck. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “What about the meal after the service? How do we set up for that?” Even as he spoke, he wondered if an English maiden with Lily’s obvious beauty and refinement could be interested in a country lad a year or so younger than herself. But then, all the young men her age and older were in the militia. Even if they weren’t…
Luke’s voice cut into his musing. “Soon as the service is over, us menfolk roll in a couple a barrels to hold up some of the boards and make a long table outta them and the kitchen table. Once the ladies set out the food, us kids fill our plates and eat first so we’ll have more time to go out and play.”
“Yeah.” Matt harrumphed. “But it galls me that Judy an’ Anna MacBride an’ the Randall twins got so uppity they think they’re too old for the rest of us. They eat with the adults now.” He gave a sarcastic shake of his head.
John managed not to reveal his surprise that Matty was already noticing the feminine
sex. The lad truly was growing up. “How old are those gals? I’ve lost track.”
“Judy’s fourteen, Anna’s almost thirteen, and Gracie and Patience just turned twelve.”
“And actin’ prim and proper as cats,” Luke piped in, his freckles spreading apart with his grin. “Swishin’ their skirts around like they was as old as Cissy Dunlap or Lily.”
“Twelve.” John did his best to maintain a straight face. “Matt, you turned eleven yourself on your last birthday, as I recall. Well, all I can say is neither of you is just acting older. You’re being older. I’m proud of you both.”
His boys stood a bit taller.
John couldn’t help noticing that Lily wore an affectionate smile also. Her eyes sparkled with mirth as her gaze drifted to his, sharing the moment. Then her smile vanished like dew in the morning sun as she turned away and busied herself with the dishes again.
Why the sudden change? John couldn’t think of anything he’d said to offend her since he’d arrived home. Or was she still embarrassed about the Robby situation? Women were difficult to figure out. He cut a glance to his sons. “Boys, with so many folks riding in, we’d best go out and fill the watering trough.”
Puffy clouds scudded across the morning sky as the crunching of wagon wheels and clomping of farm horses announced the arrival of Beaver Cove’s residents for the Sabbath service, the women in their very best homespun, the men spruced up with slicked-back hair and worn, but clean, attire. After trickling inside and milling about with greetings and chatter, the older folks took seats on the benches John and the boys had lugged in, while the youngest kids scrambled up the ladder to the loft.
Sandwiched between the older Waldon boys, Lily could scarcely breathe. John sat at the end next to Susan’s rocking chair, with Davy on his lap and Emma snuggled close. Matt urged two of his friends to fill in the last two spaces to his right, preventing Robby Randall and younger brother Donald from monopolizing Lily. She appreciated that small distraction. John looked entirely too handsome in his burgundy frock coat and ruffled cravat, though the outfit did show wear. She didn’t dare allow her gaze to linger on him.
She glanced ahead to the other families chatting happily with their neighbors. During this last period of duty, none of the valley’s men had been killed, as Willard Thornton had been last year, or wounded, like Calvin Patterson two years ago. Cal’s wife, Nancy, appreciated having her husband home, but his shattered knee was the heavy price paid for that privilege. Lily sneaked a glance over at John and thanked the Lord for protecting him.
“Ahem. Time to start this service.” Ian MacBride, or Grampa Mac as the children called him, moved to the front of the hearth, his callused hand raised for silence. The oldest resident of the cove, at six feet he was also the tallest, and sinewy, but his grave demeanor belied a merry heart. Lacking an ordained minister within a thirty-mile radius of Beaver Creek, the grizzle-haired man with bushy whiskers had become their spiritual leader of sorts.
Lily had found the casual arrangement a touch strange at first, having grown up in Bath, England, with its magnificent cathedral, but she’d come to treasure the man’s unschooled wisdom and looked forward to his scripture reading and related comments. His slight Scottish accent with its rolling r’s fell pleasantly on her ears.
People were still exchanging greetings with the returning soldiers, so Elder MacBride swept a slow glance around, gathering the attention of each individual in the simple log dwelling. “I ken we’re all pleased to have our men back home with us again—even for just two weeks—so let’s bow our heads and give thanks to the Lord for this blessed time. Father God, we thank and praise Ye for keepin’ our soldiers safe and healthy despite the smallpox that ravaged the forces up in New York. Ye ken how much we missed our men, Lord. Not just because we love ’em, but with ’em bein’ farmers, Ye ken the land needs ’em too. We trust Ye to see that we all have food on our tables and that the roof dunna’ leak till this war ends. And if ’tis Thy will, Lord, we ask for peace to return to Pennsylvania and the other colonies. We ask this in the name of Thy Son. Amen.”
Quiet amens and nodding heads expressed the agreement of the gathering.
“Now,” he continued, “let’s stand and sing ‘Praise God from Whom All Blessings Flow.’ ”
Lily saw John retain hold of Susan’s slim hand while he stood with Davy in his other arm, and her heart ached. Susan needed her husband desperately. But heaven help her, so did Lily. Unable to endure their display of affection, she lowered her lashes.
While the rafters vibrated with song, Lily had something else to fill her mind. She basked in everyone’s exuberance, enjoying the richness of extra male voices among the crowd.
Two hymns later, Elder MacBride hooked his wire-rimmed spectacles over his bulbous nose and opened his frayed Bible, a cue for everyone to sit again. “Before getting back to Ephesians chapter five, I’d like to read a few verses from Psalm 101 as a fittin’ preamble for our passage. ‘I will sing of mercy and judgment: unto thee, O Lord, will I sing. I will behave myself wisely in a perfect way…I will set no wicked thing before mine eyes.’ ” Then he bowed his head. “Our Father in heaven, we offer our thanks for the Word Ye gave us for our instruction. Amen.”
“I will behave myself wisely…. I will set no wicked thing before mine eyes.” Lily shifted in her seat. Had Mr. MacBride seen the longing for John Waldon in her gaze? She looked for a sign in the Scot’s expression that would expose her sin but saw none as his huge, veined hands leafed through his Bible. She shot a furtive glance past the children to John, then Susan.
Both sat placidly, paying rapt attention to the older man. Lily berated herself for her foolish fancies.
“ ‘Be ye therefore followers of God, as dear children; and walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us, and hath given himself for us an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweetsmelling savour. But fornication, and all uncleanness, or covetousness, let it not be once named among you, as becometh saints….’ ”
His voice droned on, but Lily heard nothing past those words. She knew her thoughts were unclean and covetous, just as he said. Sitting motionless between the two unsuspecting boys, she felt dirty, unworthy even to be in this house, much less a good friend of all present. Her heart contracted in abject despair.
Eventually the elder’s book slammed shut, snapping Lily’s attention once again to the front.
“And may our Lord bless the readin’ of His holy Word.”
The statement was scarcely out of the man’s mouth before Emma, Davy, and the other youngsters made a mad dash outside. While everyone else clambered to their feet and began moving benches aside and constructing the long dining table in the center of the room, Lily shook off her morose mood. The Sabbath was always a gladsome day when everyone looked forward to a hearty dinner and fine fellowship. She refused to let her silly dreams steal her cheerfulness. Somehow God would help her get over the folly of untoward thoughts and forbidden longings.
As she moved out of the way to stand beside Susan’s rocking chair, Matt followed her. “I s’pose you noticed Jackson Dunlap swiveling around time and again to gawk at you.” A note of sarcasm colored his tone.
“Why, no. I was concentrating on Mr. MacBride’s reading.”
He scoffed. “Well, you better watch yourself. He’s probably gonna try to get you alone the first chance he gets. He’s nothin’ but a rough ol’ cob, even if he does think he’s some kind a war hero, irresistible to females.”
“Yeah. Watch him.” Luke echoed his brother’s advice.
Lily found her charges’ protective behavior charming and gave them an affirmative nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Luke touched her arm as she turned away. “Frank ain’t no better. Watch out for him, too.”
From the corner of her eye, Lily saw John come to a stop a few feet away as he watched the menfolk bustling about. Hopefully he hadn’t overheard his sons’ comments.
She turned to Matt and Luke. “I think your father
might need assistance in helping the other men.”
Just then, Susan reached up and touched Lily’s hand.
Lily’s heart sank. Surely the mistress had perceived her guilt during the elder’s reading. She looked down at the ailing young woman, expecting to see censure in her expression.
Instead of reproach, a sweet smile rested on Susan’s lips. “My little men are jealous. They don’t want some strapping young fellow to whisk you away from us.”
“So ’twould seem.”
“Nor would I, dear Lily. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
Contemplating the remark, Lily returned Susan’s smile and excused herself to help the other ladies. For all their sakes, she hoped she could conjure up warm feelings for at least one of the stocky Dunlap brothers. She glanced out the open doorway, where Frank and Jackson huffed with effort as they wrestled a barrel up the steps, grinning at one another in triumph. With dark brown hair and hooded brown eyes, both had matured considerably over the past three years. Though neither bore any obvious battle wounds, the ravages of war showed on their faces and in their eyes, just as it did in John’s. No doubt they’d welcome the loving affection of a gentle maiden.
The trouble was neither young man held the least appeal for her.
The only one her heart cried out for was John.
Releasing a tortured breath, she sent another desperate prayer aloft. Surely God would keep her strong. His ways were perfect. If it was His will that she leave this family and go to live with Mariah two months hence, it would be the best for all concerned.
So why did that conviction lack even the slightest comfort? Her unwitting gaze slid to John Waldon, smiling tenderly down on his wife as he gently kneaded her shoulders, and Lily’s heart ached so, she pressed a hand to her breast to stop the pain.
Chapter 4
Not since Christmas had John felt as sated as he did after the delicious meal prepared by the ladies of the settlement.
Daughters of Harwood House Trilogy : Three Romances Tell the Saga of Sisters Sold into Indentured Service (9781630586140) Page 65
