Daughters of Harwood House Trilogy : Three Romances Tell the Saga of Sisters Sold into Indentured Service (9781630586140)

by Crawford, Dianna; Laity, Sally

  “Glad to hear that. Then Lily’ll have no obligations to come back here. Once she delivers your lads to their grandparents, she can go on to the Potomac. I know Rose’d love the company. She always set such store by young Lily.”

  The man was talking as if John had nothing to say about the matter. Still, he didn’t want Nate to know how much this conversation gnawed at his insides. He kept his tone casual. “From what you said earlier, your place is just as vulnerable to attack as mine is. It’d be better for Lily to stay with her sister Mariah. I’m set on that.”

  Nate gave a slow tip of his head. “I reckon that’d be best. I been after Rose to take our children and go there, too. But she’s too attached to her little yellow house, an’ it’s like pullin’ teeth to get her to go someplace else.”

  “It is hard, leaving everything behind.” And everyone. Lily. John stood, his heart aching sorely, and tossed the remnants of his tea out in the yard. He was in no mood to sit out here any longer with this accuser. “I’m done in. I’m going up to the loft to sleep with my sons. You’re welcome to share my quarters with Stewart.”

  Nate chuckled. “If you don’t mind, I’ll bed down out here where it’s cool—an’ the air’s a whole lot fresher.”

  Lily awakened with the melody of a hymn in her thoughts. She mouthed the words silently as the familiar tune swirled through her mind. “O God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come. Our shelter from the stormy blast, and our eternal home!” She smiled, remembering how God had sheltered her when savages passed close by her not once, but thrice. And He’d sent John to bring her back here. Home.

  This morning she felt anything but guilty about a kiss she probably would have given any rescuer—even Rose’s husband had he been the one to find her.

  Stretching away her stiffness, she glanced out the open window to where birds already trilled the glorious morning, even though it was nowhere near full daylight. All the better. It would give her extra time. Her men deserved a hearty breakfast after all they’d been through on her behalf.

  She bounded out of bed to dress while whisper-singing another stanza of the song. “O God, our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come; be Thou my guide while life shall last, and our eternal home.” God had been her faithful guide through the dark and dangerous woods. She’d never again doubt He was watching over her, even in these perilous times.

  Remembering the two small children the war party had snatched from their home, she dropped to her knees beside her bed. “Father, forgive me for not praying for them last night. I am trusting You to take care of them as You did me. Please, keep them as safe as if they were in Your own hand. In Jesus’ most precious name, amen. Oh, and thank You for bringing me home.”

  She finished dressing, quickly twisted her night braid into a knot, and pinned it in place. Then, grabbing her apron from a spike by her door, she hurried out to the hearth. She wanted desperately to glance up to the loft, where John slept with the boys, but she fought that desire and refrained from even the slightest peek.

  But how nice it would be if he woke before the others and we could enjoy a cup of tea together….

  No one stirred while she got a fire going and put water on to boil. Recalling how John always bragged about her biscuits, she quietly got out a mixing bowl and all the makings and in no time at all had a batch baking in the dutch oven. Then she stepped outside to get some side pork from the smokehouse and eggs from the coop.

  Closing the door quietly behind her, she spied her brother-in-law asleep at the far end of the porch. She cringed, knowing he’d caught her kissing John square on the mouth, and guilt made her cheeks burn again—as they were prone to do every time she saw him. After leaving the porch on tiptoe, she ran all the way down near the creek to the smokehouse. Maybe she’d even milk the cow before collecting the first laid eggs of the day, since the coop could be easily seen from Nate’s position.

  By the time Lily took the milk down to the springhouse and filled a pitcher of the creamy liquid for breakfast, Rose’s husband was nowhere to be seen. She did spot Matt and Luke, however, on their way across the yard to tend to morning chores.

  The younger boy caught her eye and waved. “The biscuits sure smell grand. We ain’t had much of anything good since you went off.”

  Stopping before the duo, she grinned, knowing Luke could devour three or four biscuits with no help from anyone. “Remember, we have guests this morning. You’ll need to share.”

  He nodded, his eyes as bright as sunshine. “How soon’ll breakfast be ready?”

  Lily chuckled, tempted to ruffle that shaggy mane of his. Had her hands been free, she wouldn’t have resisted the impulse. “As soon as I get this side pork sliced and cooked.” She held the slab aloft for them to see. “If one of you would collect the eggs for me.”

  “I’ll get ’em.” A smile splashed across half-grown Matt’s face. “Soon as I let the livestock out to graze.”

  “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

  The boys headed toward the stable, and Lily turned back for the house. If those two were up, likely the rest of the men had risen. And no matter how much she’d lectured herself, her heart tripped over itself at the thought of facing John and her brother-in-law together at the same time. But the biscuits did need to come out of the oven before they burned. Taking a calming breath, she walked purposefully to the house.

  The door swung open before she reached it.

  “Good morning.” John smiled and stepped back for her to enter.

  “Good morning.” Her voice came out in a whisper as she passed him.

  “Mornin’, Lily.”

  Her eyes widened at the sight of Nate actually setting the table. “Them biscuits smell powerful good.”

  Having lost her voice a second ago, she acknowledged his greeting with a quick smile and a nod, then hurried with the milk and side pork to the worktable.

  John followed her. “I’ll slice it for you.”

  He’d done that chore for her a number of times in the past, but this morning his kindness felt considerably more intimate. “Why, thank you.” Glad to have recovered her voice, she hurried on to the hearth. She scanned the room. “Mr. Stewart is still asleep?”

  “I reckon.” Nate plunked down a plate. “It’s hard to get rested up with a shoulder wound.”

  “I see.” She stooped to haul the dutch oven out of the embers with a poker.

  “We need to have us a talk, Lily, b’fore John’s boys come back in.”

  The serious note in her brother-in-law’s voice set her on edge. “Very well. As soon as I get the biscuits on the table.”

  To her dismay, she accomplished the task far sooner than she’d hoped.

  Both men had taken seats and now stared at her.

  “Sit down a moment,” John urged.

  She looked from one to the other. Whatever they had to say, she wasn’t going to like it.

  “Please.” John gestured toward an empty chair.

  Reluctantly, she did as he bid.

  He glanced from her to Nate. “Nate and I have decided you and the boys will be leaving here tomorrow morning. And this time I mean it. You need to stay where it’s safe.”

  “Aye.” Her brother-in-law nodded. “We decided the best place for you is with your sister Mariah.”

  They decided. They decided? Lily sprang to her feet. “And I’ve decided I’m staying right here—at least until John’s enlistment is up. I’m certain the boys will side with me.”

  “No.” Raking a hand through his hair, John stood up. “Not this time. The way the Indians have started breaking into small groups and moving fast, they can strike anywhere, anytime.”

  “You’re quite correct in that regard.” She retook her seat, pulling him down as well. Then, realizing she had hold of his hand, she quickly let go.

  “I’m glad ya come to yer senses,” Kinyon said.

  At his gloating expression, Lily hiked her chin. “I never lost them.” She switched her attent
ion to John. “I’ve witnessed myself how and where this group of Indians strike. They don’t attack anywhere near a stockade or a populated neighborhood like ours. They sneak up like cowards on outlying farms before the families know what’s going to happen, do their worst, then hightail it back into the woods. Well, the boys and I do not live off by ourselves. We’ll be quite safe here. After all, we have the blockhouse just across the creek. And you did say the Dunlap brothers aren’t returning to Fort Henry. That’s two veteran fighters we’ll have at the very next farm.”

  John opened his mouth as if to respond, then closed it.

  Lily continued before he could utter a word. “So, as you see, I, too, have been weighing the danger. Matt and Luke want to stay and protect their inheritance, and I’ll not abandon them. After seeing the sort of life they’d have in Philadelphia—and considering the life they’d be relinquishing for one less worthy—I can do no less.”

  Nate whacked a hand on the table so hard, the plates rattled. “By George, Waldon, this gal has spunk. An’ she does make sense. Lily, girl, if you wanna stay on here, I won’t be one to stand in yer way.” He cocked his head. “ ’Course, come the first of November, I ‘spect ya to go on to yer sister’s. What d’ya say, Waldon?”

  Lily felt her cheeks catch fire again. She couldn’t bring herself to look John directly in his eyes.

  “I don’t like it.” He paused and heaved a defeated breath. “But you didn’t mind me when I told you not to come back. I shouldn’t be surprised that you won’t listen now. One thing I will have your word on, though.”

  Her gaze slid up to his.

  “If those Dunlaps start trying to get too cozy, I want you to spend your nights at the MacBride place.”

  “You don’t have to worry none about Jackson or Frank as long as I’m here, Pa.”

  Lily swiveled in her chair.

  There stood Matt, his shirt cradling the eggs, her young, rustic knight in shining armor. She could not have been more proud of him.

  Chapter 21

  Later that morning, Ian MacBride and neighbor Richard Shaw volunteered to ride to the Palmyra settlement to track down Hap Reynolds and the Dunlap brothers and let them know Lily had been found.

  With her presence on the farmstead for the next two months settled, Lily was happy John and Nate had decided to wait for Mr. Reynolds’s return before reporting to their duties at Fort Henry. Facing another stretch of time without her most wonderful of men around to do the heavy work and ensure protection, she harbored the hope it would take days for Grampa MacBride and Mr. Shaw to find Mr. Reynolds.

  As the day waned, she sat on the porch shucking corn for supper. She glanced past the men’s laundry flapping in the breeze and beyond to the orchard, where John, Nate, and the boys plucked peaches from the fruit-laden trees.

  The heart-gladdening sound of John’s laughter could be heard in the distance. Lily watched as he hoisted Luke up into a tree and handed him a bucket. A tender smile tugged at her lips. How marvelous it was to see him enjoying time with his sons. His last homecoming had been dreadful, with Emma captured by Indians and Susan’s demise.

  Her gaze gravitated toward the wooded rise, where grass had only begun to cover Susan’s final resting place. Susan and John had loved each other since childhood, and Lily knew John still grieved for his wife. She often saw him glance in the direction of the grave, and sadness would cloud his features. Then he would fill his lungs and assume a pleasant expression.

  Tearing off a handful of corn husk, Lily wondered how she could ever presume John would care for her in that way. She had not the slightest doubt he loved her, but it was the kind of love one would have for a beloved little sister, not the romantic kind that would lead to marriage and endure for a lifetime. High time she faced that fact and began thinking about another future for herself. November was a mere two months hence.

  She peered down at the ears of corn still to be shucked and forced her mind onto an entirely different subject: the sweet, juicy peaches the men would soon bring in. This was the first year of a bountiful crop from the trees the Waldons had planted when they’d first arrived. Envisioning a dessert of peaches smothered in sweet cream, Lily felt her mouth water. Next month the apples and pears would be ripe, along with the bright orange pumpkins. It would be a bountiful harvest, God willing.

  Having grown up in a city where folks shopped for food on market day and farmers loudly hawked their fruits and vegetables, Lily had never given thought to much else besides whether or not Rose would make a good bargain. The transfer of money had taken precedence. But there was something wonderful and fulfilling about eating the bounty from one’s own labors, one’s own harvest.

  She could understand why ever-so-proper Rose had chosen to live on a small farm. Naturally, her sister’s love for that stalwart frontiersman had played a large part in her decision, but farm work was never-ending. If the war hadn’t torn Nate away, he and Rose would be laboring together to make a future for their children—working side by side, always together, laughing, loving….

  Suddenly Lily’s mind flooded with the memory of John kissing her face, her eyes, her lips, and her heart skipped a beat. How her lips had tingled then, how her whole being seemed to come to life.

  Catching herself venturing to that forbidden place again, she ripped at a corn husk with renewed fervor. Far better to think about Mariah, the black-haired, violet-eyed beauty of the family who had arrived in America determined to use her stunning appearance to attract a wealthy husband. She had done just that. But not until the Lord taught her that true beauty came from within, that knowing the everlasting love of God and showing charity for others far outweighed the importance of having an easy life. The once vain, self-centered girl had blossomed into a sensitive, loving woman, after all.

  A rasping snort behind Lily drew her back to the present. Virgil Stewart was slumped in a chair at the opposite end of the porch, napping as he’d done most of the day. She smirked as another nasal rumble emitted from the dozing frontiersman.

  She bundled the stripped corn in her apron and took it into the house, where earlier she’d set a big pot over the hot coals to boil. Supper needed to be ready in time to allow a nice long visit this eve. Tomorrow or the next day the men would be leaving.

  John would be leaving. She heaved a morose sigh.

  Midmorning the next day, John glanced out the window of his workshop and groaned in disgust as Hap Reynolds and Jackson Dunlap cantered in. With those two back, he’d have no excuse to remain at the farmstead another day. Even the wooden stock he’d been working on to replace the cracked one on Nate’s musket was finished, except for the varnish that had yet to dry.

  He shifted his gaze to the open doorway and spied Lily at the well, drawing up a bucket of water.

  She went still, holding the handle, looking as distraught over the return of the men as John felt. She hadn’t brightened at all upon seeing Jackson! A gloating smirk pulled at his lips.

  Abruptly she swung her gaze to his shop.

  John quickly stepped back into the shadows so she wouldn’t see him mooning over her. What would she think if she knew her dear Susan’s husband couldn’t keep his eyes—or his thoughts—off her? Especially not after having kissed her with such fierce passion. His chest still swelled as he recalled the taste of her sweet lips. With a hopeless wag of his head, he wiped the varnish from his hands and strode out to greet the men.

  He stopped dead in his tracks when Jackson flew off his mount before it came to a full stop and grabbed Lily—and kissed her right on the mouth! John’s hands curled into fists.

  Nate, having emerged from the house, reached Dunlap before John got there. He jerked the upstart backward.

  Angry though he was, John’s main concern was Lily. To his overwhelming relief, she did not look at all pleased with the young man. She swiped at her mouth with her apron, rubbing away Jackson’s kiss. She hadn’t done that when he kissed her. He squelched the smidgen of a smile.

  “T
hat happens to be my little sister,” Nate grated between clenched teeth. “An’ she’s not to be manhandled.”

  The young man looked only slightly repentant as he returned his attention to Lily. “ ‘Scuse me. I was just so happy to see you. We looked everywhere. We thought the Injuns took you for sure.”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Well, as you can see, I’m perfectly fine. I’ve nothing more than a few scratches and blisters.” Relaxing a bit, she glanced past him. “Where’s your brother? Did he go on home?”

  A lazy grin spread across Jackson’s face. “Frank’ll be along in a couple days. A lass at the Palmyra stockade caught his fancy. He didn’t even mind that she spoke no more’n a smatterin’ of English. He volunteered to stay an’ help raise some cabins for the burnt-out folks.”

  Lily’s demeanor softened. “Young lass or not, that was quite generous of him, especially since you boys haven’t been home in months.”

  “Didn’t John tell you? My enlistment’s up. I’m home for good.” He puffed out his chest.

  Her slender brows rose, but she responded in a pleasant tone. “I’m sure your family will be most pleased to hear that.”

  Watching the exchange, John reminded himself that even though Jackson had just kissed her, Lily treated him with only polite regard. Nothing more.

  Nate changed the subject. “Don’t tell me more cabins have been set afire.”

  Not bothering to answer, the young man continued to stare boldly at Lily.

  Hap Reynolds responded. “No. A couple a men searched the woods b’fore we got back, hopin’ to pick up the trail of the little boys that got carted off. But with the rain…” He shrugged. “They’re purty sure them raidin’ parties headed back toward the Swatara Hole. Leastwise, that’s what they’re prayin’ for.”

  The pleasant expression on Lily’s face wilted at the news. “Those little boys. How old are they, do you know?”

  “Six an’ four, miss.”