Rising to his feet, he took Davy’s hand. “Well, my little man, if your mama’s not here, I reckon there’s no sense in us hanging around, is there?” He started toward the cabin.
“Nope.” His son skipped along at his side. “But it sure will be differ’nt, not havin’ her to take care of no more.”
“I know what you mean.” John cast a backward glance at the sad-looking grave, strewn with a fading rainbow of wilted flowers. His childhood sweetheart, too fragile to live on earth any longer, had gone on without him.
“Oh no! Ever’body’s leavin’!” Davy wrenched free of John’s hand and bolted across the meadow. “Don’t go! I still wanna play!”
But the neighbors never slowed. John knew it was natural for them to load up and return to their homes. There’d been no evidence of a war party in the area, merely the three scouts who’d taken the children. And those varmints would never report to their chiefs again. Still, a very real threat remained. Captain Busse had relayed the sighting of an approaching force, and no one could be certain whether they’d come south or follow the trail east along Blue Mountain and continue down through the “Hole” and on toward Reading. Would they descend on a larger town this time?
Regardless, it was too dangerous for his family to remain at Beaver Cove without him any longer. He’d see them on their way before he left for the fort. His beloved Susan was gone—to get her new body. John couldn’t help smiling when he thought about Davy’s remark.
He climbed through the pasture fence just in time to see the last wagon heading out, carting with it a lamb, a calf, crates of chickens, and children. Worn-out Ian MacBride, slumped in his saddle, herded the larger livestock behind. Chasing after Indians for two days had taken a lot of starch out of the old fellow. But thank God, he and the others had never given up. John would be indebted to them for the rest of his life.
He scanned his farmstead, the piece of land where he’d invested all his hopes and dreams for himself and his children, the place he’d built with his own hands. Now it may have been for naught: the cabin he’d planned to expand one day into a bigger, nicer home filled with fine furnishings he fashioned himself; the stable already roomy enough to house six large animals; the corncrib; his workshop; and the springhouse, smokehouse, and sheds. He’d practically broken his back digging the cellar. Then there were the fields and orchard, the fencing—all in jeopardy. If everything were burned out, would he have the heart to start over?
He exhaled a harsh breath. Tonight he’d put aside his worries and enjoy his family. His time with them would be much too short.
Watching his dear ones waving to the MacBrides from the porch, he noticed that Emmy had on a fresh dress. Lily must have bathed her and tended her wounds and now had his daughter tucked close to her side. If ever he’d doubted the love the British girl had for his children, he never would again. She certainly was God’s blessing to them all.
He increased his pace to reach them, then slowed a bit as he noticed Eva Shepard, Toby’s mother-in-law, standing with them. Why hadn’t the woman gone home with her family? What possible reason could she have for remaining behind?
Of course. Lily.
Could the woman possibly have seen the way he’d looked at the lass the last time he was home? A familiar twinge of guilt waylaid him. Surely he’d managed to hide that forbidden yearning.
Or was it the way he’d drawn Lily close to him today, held on to her. When he’d been bestowing kisses on all the children, had he inadvertently kissed her, too? He might have. He wasn’t sure. He’d been so happy to see them all.
One thing was certain. From the way Eva was eyeing him, her arms crossed as he approached, she wasn’t here merely to help out. She was here to chaperone Lily.
Chapter 12
Lily listened through the open kitchen window while her family washed up for breakfast. Their laughter and good-natured banter was a welcome change from the heavy sadness that had enveloped the household since last spring, when John had gone off with the militia and Susan’s health had waned. Now that the man of the house was back, the light chatter fell on her ears like music from the cathedral choir at Bath. But even though the family was acting as if nothing had happened, Lily knew that soon enough the finality of their loss would sink in, and they’d all be forced to face their grief.
Silver-haired Eva came up behind her. “This’ll be a fine homecomin’ breakfast.”
“So I’m hoping.” Reluctantly, Lily left the window. “Thank you for making the blackberry syrup. Everyone will love it on the flapjacks.”
“Aye, lass. We’ll have us a good stick-to-the-ribs meal.” She brushed flecks of loose flour from her generous bosom. “Then later, I think you an’ me need to have a little talk.”
“Oh? Did I forget to do something?” Lily thought she’d taken care of everything concerning Susan’s burial the day before.
The older woman wagged her mobcapped head with a smile. “Nothin’ to fret about. Right now, I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.”
“So sorry, then.” Quirking a teasing smile, Lily picked up the platter of sliced salt pork and took it to the table. “You’ll have to settle for a hog.”
Eva chuckled.
Still, Lily couldn’t help wondering what her neighbor had on her mind. She hoped the woman hadn’t caught her gazing in an unseemly way at John at supper last night, especially after having put so much effort into not looking at him. But she could not have related the joy Mr. Gilford’s visit had brought Susan, or the letter the man had posted to them, without looking in his direction.
Unless…Eva wanted to lecture her about that telling moment when she’d first glimpsed John and literally thrown herself at him. She hadn’t made the slightest attempt not to appear inordinately glad to see him. Oh, mercy.
“Mmm. Can I have more syrup?” Fork clutched in his fist and wearing as much of the sticky sweet as he’d eaten, Davy besought Lily.
Luke cocked a grin and pointed his own smeared finger. “Just let him wipe his flapjack down his shirt.”
“Oh, give the boy all he wants,” Eva said, positioned a generous distance away from the messy pair.
Lily wasn’t quite so invulnerable, seated next to Davy. On her other side, Emma sat in silence, toying with the food on her plate. The child had hardly uttered a word since her return. Whenever she wasn’t glued to Lily or her pa, she huddled curled up in a corner or under the table, often crying without a sound. Lily mourned for the child, wondering—but dreading to know—what unspeakable abuse she’d endured. She eased away from the little girl enough to pour more syrup on Davy’s already soggy flapjack.
At the end of the table, John set down his fork. “Now that we’re about finished…”
Lily shot him a glance. The happy expression he’d worn when the family gathered for breakfast had turned serious. Did he, like Eva Shepard, have something to say she didn’t want to hear?
The jovial banter between the older boys ceased as Matt and Luke slid wary glances at their father.
Wiping his mouth on his napkin, John laid the cloth down and cleared his throat. “First of all, I’d like to thank you ladies for this wonderful breakfast—the best I’ve had since last I was home.”
Lily smiled but remained quiet.
Eva, however, stood and began clearing the table. “Shucks, John. It’s a special day. Your family wants to celebrate your homecomin.’”
“Yes. Well, speaking of that, there’s something you all need to know. I was given only a few days’ leave. As much as I hate to say it, I’m duty-bound to start back to the fort…tomorrow.”
Davy’s fork clattered to his plate. “Papa! No! It’s not fair.”
His brothers grimaced and exchanged incredulous looks.
Emma’s little hand slowly moved across Lily’s lap and found hers.
Lily swallowed the lump forming in her throat and fought back tears already trembling on her lashes. John’s children had suffered the loss of their mother only three days past.
They needed him more than ever before. How could he leave them again so soon? What sort of love could be so cruel?
As if oblivious to the sullen mood that descended on the room like a smothering blanket, John continued. “After much consideration, I’ve come to a decision, Lily. I want you to pack everyone’s clothing today while the boys and I drive our stock over to the MacBrides’. Then first thing tomorrow morning, I’ll take you all down to the Swatara and hire a canoe. I’m sure Matt and Luke will be able to handle paddling it as far as the Susquehanna. Then you’re to secure passage on a keelboat the rest of the way.”
“The rest of the way?” Lily’s voice emerged in a hoarse whisper. It was finally happening. He was dismissing her. “But—”
He held up a hand. “Please, let me finish.”
With an aching heart, she pressed her lips together.
“I know you promised to stay and look after the children until I return for good. But in the light of Susan’s passing and the current potential for an Indian attack, I won’t hold you to that any longer. You told me Mr. Gilford has expressed a desire for his grandchildren to come and stay with him, so that’s what they’ll do. I have every confidence the man will see to their needs, but I’d be pleased if you’d consent to remain with them—at least until they’re settled and comfortable. Once this ugly business with the French is over, I’ll reimburse you generously. You have my word.”
No one spoke for an instant.
“I ain’t leavin’ here.” Matt slapped the table, rattling the utensils. “Mama always said our future was on this land. We don’t have nothin’ back in Philadelphia. I’m not goin’ off an’ leavin’ the corn an’ beans an’ the sorghum we planted for somebody else to harvest.”
“Me neither.” Luke sat up straighter.
Lily had never heard them defy their father before. Shocked, she swung her attention to John.
“I understand how you feel, boys,” he said evenly. “But I need to know you’re all safe. It’s as simple as that.”
“Hmph. We’d like to know you’re safe, too, Pa,” Matt retorted. “But that ain’t stoppin’ you from goin’ back to that blasted fort, is it.”
John slowly shook his head. “You know I have no choice.”
“Well, neither do we. Luke an’ me have to stay here. Keep the place goin’.”
His younger sibling nodded in assent.
Lily marveled that the two had become a force of one. More amazing, they’d rarely had an argument during the past year and truly had worked hard on the place. In the ensuing silence, she turned again to gauge their father’s reaction.
Eva finally chimed in from the side. “You know, John, if the boys stay here, me ‘n Maggie’ll check in on ’em from time to time. So will the other neighbors, I’m sure.”
John looked over at her. “So you folks are all planning to stay? Even knowing there’s a war party coming down out of New York and heading this way?”
“That’s right.” She hiked her chin, blue eyes flashing. “Like your lad said, we done worked too hard to just cut out an’ run. ‘Sides, you militia boys are up there ready to stop ’em, ain’t ‘cha?”
He gave a conceding nod. “We’ll do our best.” Returning his focus to his sons, he stared at them a few seconds, then huffed out a breath. “Very well. Against my better judgment, I’ll agree to let you stay here…if Ian MacBride will consent to accompany Lily and the little ones on the canoe trip as far as the mouth of the Susquehanna.” He turned to her, his eyes pleading. “Would you be willing to go with my children? I’d do it myself, except I have extra horses I’m obliged to return to the fort.”
Lily felt battered little Emma’s hand still clinging to hers. She couldn’t bear the thought of parting with the sweet angel again so soon, nor could she subject her to the possibility of being recaptured by savages. She filled her lungs with a shaky breath and moistened her lips. “Emma would be much safer in Philadelphia, that is true, and so would Davy. Their grandfather Gilford appeared to be a kind, loving man. I’m sure he’d be elated to house them until it’s safe to come home. No doubt the quarantine has been lifted by now. I agree to take them. But”—she added force to her words—“then I’ll return here and look after Matt and Luke. I’ll not leave them by themselves with no one to cook or wash for them and see they get their lessons.”
“No. That is out of the question.” John tightened his lips.
He truly meant to send her away. Her heart sank with a sickening thud.
“You’d be alone on the river then. It’s far too risky.”
Lily strengthened her case. “I’m sure Mr. Gilford would provide an escort for my return. Perhaps the frontiersmen who guided him here to the farm. I’d prefer coming back overland anyway. ’Tis much faster than a slow, cumbersome journey upstream.”
“Lily…” John looked from her to Eva Shepard and back. “Once you deliver the children and remember how wonderful it is to feel safe again, you may decide not to return to Beaver Cove.”
“Oh, I’ll be back. You can be certain of that.” She gently disengaged Emma’s hand and picked up the milk pitcher. “Would anyone care for more?”
“Me. Me.” Davy squirmed in his chair. “We haveta hurry up and eat, Lily. We hafta pack my stuff. I’m gonna get to go on a boat all the way to Phila—Phila—”
“Delphia,” Emma whispered, the first word she’d spoken in hours. But a tear spilled over her swollen eye and trickled down her cheek.
Lily filled Davy’s glass half full, then set down the pitcher and wrapped her arm around Emma. If no one else needed a safe haven, this baby girl had to leave here to feel safe again…no matter how empty the house would be without her.
She raised her lashes and met John’s gaze, seeing there a tender look that said he was aware of her concern, that he shared it as well. Then he averted his eyes, increasing the awkward silence filled with words unspoken. It was like her heart was being winched.
What might he have said to her if Eva Shepard wasn’t hovering nearby? She didn’t dare allow her imaginings to drift in that dangerous direction. But at least the forthcoming trip would eliminate the need for the older woman to lecture her.
Lily could hardly bear to think back on John’s emotional farewell to his two older sons when she and the little ones had waited with their luggage to begin their journey. Even now, soaking in warm, silky luxury in a tub filled with sudsy water at a travelers’ inn, she could still envision him barely managing to contain his tears. Matt and Luke had tried so hard to be brave and manly, promising to work hard and keep the place in order as the threesome hugged and kissed, administering awkward thumps on each other’s backs.
Downstairs, a hotel maid was looking after Emma and Davy in the front parlor of Stevenson’s Tavern while the pair watched travelers ride by on the post road between Baltimore and Philadelphia. The sights enthralled Davy, who had rarely seen a stranger before embarking on the trip downriver. He couldn’t wait until tomorrow when the three of them would board another vehicle—not so fancy as one of the stylish carriages that made the little fellow’s eyes widen like saucers, but a stage wagon. Lily herself felt a niggle of excitement about going to a city she understood to be even larger than Baltimore.
If only something would put a smile on Emmy’s face.
A pity there hadn’t been time to stitch some proper clothing for the children before they left, instead of their plain homespun. Lily could have salvaged enough material from one of her fine gowns or an old waistcoat of John’s. She glanced down the lace front of the day gown she’d laid out to wear when she and the children would go for supper. Thank goodness she hadn’t grown any taller since sailing across the sea from England or grown overly buxom. Mayhap she wouldn’t be too out of fashion.
Out of fashion! A laugh bubbled out of her. To think being fashionable had been one of her greatest concerns before coming to the colonies. Such a foolish, naive lass she’d been then. At Beaver Cove she’d hesitated about wearing her lovely gowns,
since most of her neighbors usually wore homespun garments. But a tiny part of her wondered if John would think she looked pretty tonight, had he come with them.
Dear, considerate John. Here she was soaking in a tub, anticipating supper in the public room, while he was stuck at a primitive fort that lacked even the simplest of comforts.
John…She recalled his expression of relief when Ian and young Michael both volunteered to canoe with her and the children down to the Susquehanna and see them aboard a flatboat. He had given each child a hug, a kiss, and a promise to come for them in November, when his enlistment was up. A wailing Emma clung so tightly to her pa it had taken the combined efforts of Lily and the MacBrides to peel her away. Only Davy bubbled with joyous anticipation.
Without attempting to unravel the tangled feelings the bittersweet memory gave her, Lily relaxed in the water up to her neck. One would expect she’d be quite good at good-byes by now, after being ripped away from her own father, two sisters, her dearest friend—and John—numerous times. She would survive this parting, too. She forced herself to concentrate on the present. It had been a lifetime since she’d bathed in water she didn’t have to haul in and heat. Basking in the privilege, she smiled as a whiff from the briny Chesapeake Bay teased her nose.
In her deepest heart, Lily wished John had rendered the same kind of farewell to her as he had to Davy and Emma. His handsome features relaxed when he turned to her, and his eyes softened. An ocean of words they might have said, had they been alone, lay between them. Lily knew he still loved Susan, and she accepted it because it was only right. But still, there was that invisible cord of shared heartache, shared longings, that bound them together. No use trying to deny it.
Daughters of Harwood House Trilogy : Three Romances Tell the Saga of Sisters Sold into Indentured Service (9781630586140) Page 73
