A sympathetic tone softened Kinyon’s boisterous voice. “God was with you for sure. I’m glad you was able to find Emma in time. But…you say your wife passed on? I’m right sorry to hear that. I know you’ve had a run of bad luck. Lily’s letters to Rose never failed to mention Mistress Waldon’s sufferin’.” He bit off a chunk of bread.
John could only manage a nod. “At my urging, Lily took Emma and Davy to my wife’s family in Philadelphia. She had it in mind to return to the place to stay with my older boys, but considering the danger, I told her that once the youngsters were settled, she should travel on to her sister Mariah’s. She’ll most certainly be safe there.”
“Aye.” The hint of a smile tweaked Nate’s lips. “That’ll save Rose a pile of frettin’. But ain’t those boys of yours a mite young to stay on the place alone? They should’a gone to Philly, too.”
John shrugged. “Matt’s twelve now, and Luke will turn ten next month. But you’re right. Even though Pat and I have fine, caring neighbors and have built us a solid blockhouse, it would’ve eased my mind considerably if my sons had gone with Lily. The thing is, if I forced them to leave, they threatened to jump out of the canoe and go right back.”
Pat laughed. “Knowin’ those two, they would’a done it, too.”
“They’d put a lot of hard work and sweat into our farm,” John elaborated with a mixture of pride and angst. “They refused to leave their harvest there to rot. Those boys of mine have been working the place like men ever since I’ve been in the militia.”
“Sounds like you got kids a man can be proud of,” Bob Bloom inserted with a knowing nod. “Hope mine grow up to be just like ’em. May the good Lord look after ’em an’ keep ’em safe till you get back home.”
Having finished his meal, Nate set the trencher on the ground. “I’d say from the letters Lily wrote to my Rose, she’ll make some farmer a real fine wife.”
“That she will.” The begrudging statement sank in John’s heart like a stone.
“ ’Course, she could end up weddin’ a plantation heir, like Mariah did.” Then a wary grimace colored Nate’s demeanor. “Considerin’ the passel of Injuns roamin’ this area, a trip through the wilderness back to your place would be mighty risky at this point. I’m purely glad to know Lily’s out of harm’s way.”
And likely out of my life forever. John’s chest banded painfully at the thought.
Chapter 15
Lily’s eyes sprang open. Again.
Her anticipation—or more accurately, anxiety—had interrupted her sleep several times throughout the night. This morning she was scheduled to leave for home on horseback. She glanced out the open window, where the beginnings of dawn had barely started lifting the curtain of night.
Tossing back the sheet, she left the dreamy comfort of the feather bed and padded across the woven-thrush summer carpeting to look outside. A faint glow silhouetted the brick dwelling across the street. She’d never get back to sleep now. She might as well get dressed.
Feeling around in the darkness for the flint-striker on her nightstand, Lily found it and lit the wick of her bedside lamp. Her gaze immediately fell upon the letters she’d written to her sisters before retiring last eve. They had yet to be sealed. Reaching in the drawer for a piece of candle, she paused and opened the message she’d penned to Rose. She read over her explanation for returning to Beaver Cove instead of going on to the Barclays in Virginia:
No doubt Mariah will feel I should give thought to my future, now that my time of indenturement has ended. But I cannot. Not yet. You, dearest Rose, have always been my example, and I have always admired your integrity. You sacrificed your marrying years to stay at home and take care of us. Then, here in America, the Lord brought a marvelous and loving husband into your life and blessed you with sweet little ones. I do long to see how they have grown, but I cannot, until I know my own dear charges are all safe and sound. I truly believe the Lord is sending me back to look after the boys. I join you in constant, fervent prayer that the Lord will return your husband to you just as I pray for John and our other brave Beaver Cove men.
With a sigh, Lily skipped over the rest and folded the heavy paper before putting flame to the candle and allowing a dollop of wax to drip on the outer edge and create a seal. She then stacked the missive atop the letter to Mariah.
Even as she lifted her night rail over her head, she lacked the absolute certainty that returning to the farm was God’s leading. Part of her felt assured that she’d made the right decision, but the other part of her questioned whether the choice to go was merely her own willful desire. She wished the Lord would speak audibly to her as He had to Moses and Samuel in the Bible.
She dropped to her knees and spoke softly. “Father, if I’m not supposed to go back to Beaver Cove, please create a circumstance that will prevent me from making that mistake. I truly desire Your will, and not my own. But if I am to go, please, give the Gilfords the kind of tender love for Emma and Davy the children desperately need. I know I’ve asked this before, but”— she shrugged—“perhaps I should ask You to give me peace about leaving them here. I shall miss them terribly. And I needn’t mention how nervous I am about riding a horse on such a long trip. You know my experience has been limited to short jaunts on my brother Tommy’s pony in England and our gentle workhorse at the farmstead.” Lily paused and raised her gaze heavenward. “One more thing, Father…the men who will be escorting me are not the ones who accompanied Mr. Gilford. He says they come highly recommended, but still, a lone miss traveling with two total strangers…”
Huffing out a worried breath, Lily came to her feet. Surely the Lord was weary of hearing those same requests over and over. Time to get dressed.
Why, oh why, had she given in to her weakness? Lily knew she should have slipped out before the children woke up. But no, she’d had to have a last hug and kiss from each of them before departing. Now two whining, teary-eyed darlings tore at her heart as they begged her not to go.
“Please stay with us…please.” Still in nightclothes and barefoot, Emma and Davy trailed Lily down the stairs and out the door. They stayed on her heels all the way to the gate.
Lily slid an apologetic glance to Mr. Gilford, who waited in the street with the two longhunters he’d hired to escort her. Beside them, three mounts and a packhorse raised tiny bursts of dust as their hooves pawed the cobblestone street in impatience.
Emma latched on to Lily’s hand, tugging her backward. “Matt and Luke are bigger. They told you and Papa they could take care of themselves.”
“I’m big, too.” Davy pouted, his lower lip protruding. “I wanna go with you.” He yanked on her dark gray skirt and elevated his voice to neighborhood pitch. “I wanna ride the horsies!”
“No, silly!” His sister jerked him away. “I want her to stay here with us, where it’s safe.”
Lily knelt and drew the little girl close, smoothing down her rumpled hair. “Matt and Luke can do the farm work well, but they don’t know how to cook or do women’s work. They’ve surely got the kitchen in a horrid mess by now.”
“I—wanna—go!” Davy threw himself at Lily and clutched her shoulders, nearly toppling her.
She managed to disentangle him and tugged him around to the front to include him in the embrace. “There’s a fine cook here, sweetie, and servants. And you have your grandma and grandpa to look after you and give you lots of hugs and kisses and read you stories until it’s safe for you to come home. We’ll all be together again soon. I promise.”
The towhead squirmed free. “I ain’t scared a no Injuns. I’ll get a sword like my lead soldiers, an’ stab ’em an’ cut their heads off.”
Rendered speechless by his tirade, Lily breathed with relief as Susan’s father stepped in and scooped the boy up. “Davy, my boy, I do believe you need a few sword-fighting lessons first before you go charging off to fight, don’t you think? How about you and I make us some practice swords? I’ve got just the right pieces of wood in my workshop.” Wit
h a wink at Lily, he toted the diverted little fellow away.
Emma, however, clung all the tighter. “Please don’t leave me…. Please…”
Lily’s heart cinched as she kissed her darling’s little red head. “Sweetheart, you know I have to go. And the only reason I feel it’s right for me to leave is because I know you and Davy will be safe and loved here.” She gently removed Emma’s arms from around her and stood to her feet. “You know I’d rather stay here with you. But your other brothers also need someone to look after them and keep them safe.”
Steeling herself against the tears rolling down Emma’s fair, freckled cheeks, she strode to a long-legged dun and took the reins from the hand of one of the silent frontiersmen. His frizzy red beard hitched up on one side as he smirked at his hook-nosed partner. Neither hunter looked happy, and Lily wondered whether their displeasure stemmed from dissatisfaction over the price they’d agreed upon, their distaste at having a woman along on an arduous journey, or worse—concern about the Indians reportedly raiding farmsteads in Berks County.
She had concerns of her own—especially since she’d never ridden sidesaddle. Before she could voice any doubts, however, the red-bearded man rolled his hooded eyes to the sky and grunted as he hoisted her up onto the contraption.
Hooking a leg around the tall pommel, Lily had second and third thoughts about her decision to set off into the wilderness with the swarthy, rumpled pair. Nevertheless, she determined not to let it show. She would conquer this fear. She would.
Gazing down from that lofty height, her eyes misted at the sight of the shattered little girl sitting on the hard stones, arms about her drawn-up knees, weeping as she rocked to and fro.
“I love you, sweet Emmy,” Lily somehow choked out. “We’ll come back for you as soon as it’s safe. Now go back in the house. There’s a good dear.” Without waiting for the men to mount, she clucked her tongue, starting the horse down the street before they could see her tears. Emma was still emotionally fragile, but right now, Matt and Luke needed her more.
Plodding along after the shaggy duo, Lily ground her teeth in vexation. The rawboned guides rode with their jaws hard-set, not even talking to each other as they led the way out of Philadelphia. All they’d done since setting eyes on her was look her up and down with ill-concealed disdain and then ignore her as if she didn’t exist. She could only surmise that the two considered her a soft, silly female who had not the slightest inkling of what she was getting herself into. On the other hand, she decided as she emitted a spiritless breath, she was riding sidesaddle in a fashionable riding costume of summer wool trimmed with emerald velvet and a matching hat with a feathery plume. Perhaps they needed no further reason for their opinion.
The city buildings and mansions gradually gave way as the road led out of town toward Reading, and passing the last dwelling, Lily decided to make an attempt to dispel some of the men’s misconceptions. She guided her docile mare up between them. “I don’t believe we’ve introduced ourselves. I’m Lily Harwood, from Beaver Cove.”
They both grunted and continued to stare straight ahead.
She tried again. “How might I address you gentlemen?”
The red-bearded one, obviously the spokesman, emptied his lungs and turned to her. “The name’s Hap Reynolds. That there’s Virgil Stewart.” He indicated his cohort with a crook of his thumb.
“Mr. Reynolds and Mr. Stewart.” She offered a polite smile to one, then the other. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“We don’t much cotton to that mister stuff. Call us Reynolds an’ Stewart, or Hap an’ Virge. Yer choice.”
She gave a hesitant nod, not quite ready to comply with such familiarity as first names. “Reynolds and Stewart, then. Well, could you give me some idea of how long it will take us to reach Beaver Cove overland?”
“Depends.” The frizzled beard hitched again as Reynolds smirked at his buddy.
“On what?” It appeared she would have to drag information out of him a word at a time. She struggled for patience.
“The weather, the cricks, an’ streams.”
“An’ the Lenape.” Hook-nosed Stewart snickered. He flashed a gap-toothed grin at his pal and nudged his broad-brimmed hat a fraction higher.
Lily had no idea what a Lenape happened to be. “Is that a lake or a mountain?”
Reynolds chuckled at her naïveté. “Not what, missy. Who. They’re the Injuns you folks insist on callin’ the Delaware, after that river.”
Despite the heat of the day, Lily felt a cold shiver. The Delaware and Shawnee tribes had been attacking from Fort Duquesne with the French. “Have there been more massacres between Reading on the Schuylkill and the Susquehanna?”
He shrugged. “Couldn’t say. We just come south from the council meetin’ Indian Agent Johnson in New York called. The man’s doin his best to keep the friendlier tribes fightin’ with us. Considerin’ the mess them Brit generals is makin’ of things, our allied Injuns is becomin’ real standoffish.”
A low chuckle rumbled from Stewart.
Lily did not consider that information particularly humorous. “I presume, then, that you’re also rather reluctant scouts for the British. Is that correct?”
“More or less.” Reynolds cocked his head. “We git our orders from the governor of Pennsylvania.”
“I see. Then what Mr. Gilford told me is quite true. He must be a personal friend of the esteemed gentleman to be able to acquire your services.”
“Don’t know about that. But I never shy away from makin’ a little extra coin on the side.”
“Oh?” Lily wondered what sum Susan’s father had paid them.
“Aye. The governor’s sendin’ us out to check on Fort Augusta, an’ yer kinda’ on our way.”
“I was told it will take us two days to get to Reading.”
Reynolds grunted with a nod.
“An’ that’s the last feather tick you’ll be sleepin’ on.” The grin Virgil Stewart slanted her way made Lily uneasy. “Sure ya wouldn’t rather take a nice easy riverboat trip up the Susquehanna?”
She refused to be scared off by his words—or his leer. “That would be nice, Mr. Stewart, but I cannot spare the time. Mr. Gilford’s young grandsons are all alone on our farm.” She paused. “Speaking of which, I noticed there’s no extra musket for my use. Perhaps when we get to Reading you might help me purchase one that shoots true.”
Four bushy eyebrows rose high as the scraggly pair eyed her with dubious expressions. Then Reynolds spoke up. “Those’re awful big an’ loud, missy. Ya sure ya want one?”
He seemed to enjoy having fun at her expense. Lily leveled a glare at him. “I will also require a horn of black powder. Enough so I can make a sufficient supply of cartridges before we start into the wilderness. It always helps to be prepared, would you not agree?”
Neither longhunter uttered another disparaging remark after that. She might be dressed like a simpering lady, but she refused to be treated like one. Still, she knew she’d be quite sore after riding on this silly female contraption all day. In all likelihood, tomorrow would find it difficult for her to walk. “By the by.” She addressed Mr. Reynolds. “I should like to trade this useless sidesaddle for a regular one as soon as possible.”
At that, the two sour-faced guides burst into a belly laugh.
“My pleasure.” Reynolds’s beard widened with his grin. “A good sensible saddle.”
Lily surmised she’d finally earned a bit of respect in their eyes, but she still hadn’t appreciated that suggestive leer from Virgil Stewart. She changed the subject. “I know the wilderness is vast, but is either of you acquainted, perchance, with Nate Kinyon?”
“Kinyon! That backwoods scalawag?” Reynolds tucked his scruffy chin. “We crossed paths now and ag’in, back when trappin’ an’ tradin’ didn’t guarantee a scalpin’. Once Virge ‘n’ me helped him out when he was in a tight spot with them heathens, too.”
The news cheered Lily considerably. “Nate is my
sister’s husband. Mayhap you’ve met her as well, out along the Ohio. Rose Harwood.”
Hap Reynolds whacked his knee and turned to his buddy. “Well, I’ll be hornswaggled. This here gal’s sister to that bondwoman ol’ Eustice Smith took back to his tradin’ post, rest his ornery soul.” He switched his attention to Lily. “How’s that purty Rose doin’—her an’ that li’l orphaned babe she was a’motherin’?”
Lily smiled. “She and Nate married. They now live along the Potomac, where Nate and Black Horse Bob have adjoining farms, and are doing splendidly, as far as I know.”
“Well, li’l missy.” Reynolds nodded. “Since yer kin to Nate an’ that li’l Rosie gal, Virge an’ me’ll be takin’ extra care to git you home safe.”
“I’d be most grateful for that.” She relaxed a few degrees. “You two are a true godsend.”
Virgil Stewart snorted through his nose, parting his droopy mustache. “I ain’t never been called that b’fore.”
But noting the pair’s rather embarrassed, closed-mouthed grins, Lily knew she’d now be in good hands. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks to the Lord.
Chapter 16
Throughout the hard day’s ride out of Reading along the Tulpehocken Creek Trail, the lanky guides spoke scant words to one another, and only then in whispers. Fearing a possible Indian attack, Lily spent so much time peering into the dense brush and trees crowding the path on either side that her head began to throb.
At last they reached a sheltered spot along the trail where they could camp for the night. But as wary as she’d felt earlier that day, matters worsened after a cold supper of jerked beef and biscuits when the men started drinking something that smelled suspiciously like rum. Fortunately neither of them had eyed her suggestively, but her fears doubled nonetheless. The confidence she’d felt three days ago after bringing Nate Kinyon’s name into the conversation dwindled, and for the first time since departing from Philadelphia, she worried about her safety with these supposed protectors. Despite her exhaustion, she remained awake under her oiled canvas tarp until long after she heard snoring coming from both hunters.
Daughters of Harwood House Trilogy : Three Romances Tell the Saga of Sisters Sold into Indentured Service (9781630586140) Page 76
