John watched her shoulders sag. She turned troubled eyes to him. “How horrid. Our Davy’s age. We must pray for their safety every day.”
Nate gave a solemn nod. “After noonin’, ya feel up to headin’ out again, Hap?”
The question tore John’s attention from Lily.
“Sure do.” The bearded hunter directed his next words to her, and he whipped off his worn hat, his face contrite. “I know we promised to keep ya safe, missy. We let ya down, an’ I’m real sorry about that.”
She offered him a pleasant smile. “You’ve no need to apologize. I don’t fault you at all. You had to try to save those little ones. Anyone would’ve done the same. God took good care of me.”
Awed by Lily’s gentle response, John was dumbfounded. Heaven help him, he loved every word that came out of her mouth.
Obviously, so did Jackson Dunlap. John could see it in the young man’s eyes when she turned to him.
“Jackson, I want to thank you from my deepest heart for spending so many days searching for me when you could have gone home to your family. They’ve missed you boys so, especially your mother. I refuse to be the cause of any further delay. So get back on that horse of yours, and don’t keep the poor woman waiting any longer.”
He tipped his dark head at her with an uncharacteristically tender smile. “For you…and Ma, I’ll go. But rest assured, pretty gal, I’ll be checkin’ back with you real soon.”
John knew that was no lightly given promise. He also knew he wouldn’t be there to stop the lad.
“Pa!”
Turning toward Matt’s call, John saw his boys running up from the creek with their poles and a string of fish, Duke bounding along after them. “The men. They’re back already?” Panting, Matt came to a stop in front of John, with Luke a mere step or two behind. “You’ll be leavin’ now, won’t you?”
At the pained looks on their young faces, John pulled his sons into a fervent hug and looked up at Lily.
Her eyes swam with tears.
How desperately he wanted her to stay on when he returned, stay with him and his children. But unlike that bold Dunlap rogue, he had no right to ask anything of her, no right to take advantage of her kind heart and her love for his children. After four long years of ministering to Susan and taking on the care of his children and everything else he’d thrust on the girl’s slender shoulders, she deserved the chance to find a love of her own. To have her own little ones. There was only one right thing he could say. “I’ll be back come November.”
The cabin felt indescribably lonely when Lily rose the next morning. There’d be no sound of John’s solid footsteps, no echo of his rich voice or laughter, no tender whisper after the kids were in bed. She tugged her wrapper tighter against the morning chill and pulled the bedroom window closed. The men must have taken the warmth with them when they left.
Not even Virgil Stewart, with his touch of fever, had stayed behind. “Don’t like bein’ closed in by jabberin’ walls,” he’d said. But Lily suspected it was the jabbering kids the longhunter wanted to escape. He’d turned out to be nothing but an old grumbler.
On the other hand, she was just as happy he’d taken his smelly self out of the house and out of Susan’s bed…John’s bed.
No! She could not allow her mind to dwell on that subject. Lily stopped halfway out of her bedchamber and closed her eyes. Father in heaven, I beg you to take this awful yearning away. Help me to redirect my inappropriate feelings for John Waldon to some other man, a godly one I can love freely as my sisters do their husbands. I know You can do this. If You could blind the eyes of Indians to my footprints, surely You can blind the eyes of my heart to this man who can never belong to me.
Slowly, gradually, a warm, gentle peace flowed through her. God loved her despite her weakness. “Thank You…so much,” she whispered.
Realizing she could easily have been overheard, she darted a glance up to the loft, but the boys hadn’t awakened. She smiled and padded to the hearth. They’d been so happy to have their papa home, even if it was for only that short time. Just two more months, and they’d have him home again for good.
At the thought, Lily’s moment of peace vanished. Two months, and she’d have to leave not only John Waldon, but also the boys whom she’d grown to love. And sweet Emmy and her little scamp, Davy. How would she ever part with them all?
A Bible verse floated across the pages of her mind: “Take therefore no thought for the morrow; for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself.”
She sighed. Yes. Let tomorrow take care of itself.
That sweet sense of peace came flooding back.
Lily stirred the embers of the backlog to life and added a few small splits of wood, then reached for the empty water bucket. Walking outside with it, she felt a chill breeze sweep her face as she hastened toward the well. The woodshed, she noticed on the way, was already half empty. She’d best get the boys started on filling it today. Winter could easily come early this year.
A sudden strong whiff of smoke wafted past her nose, and Lily froze.
Someone’s cabin!
She sprinted out to the center of the clearing and whirled around, trying to determine the direction of the blaze. Then, realizing the smoke issued from her own chimney, she felt utterly silly and went back to the well. Obviously, as little Emma had experienced, it would take awhile for her own terrors from the past week to fade away. But with God’s help, she would overcome those frightful memories.
Still, lowering the well bucket down into the water, she couldn’t help searching the woods for any sign of movement, any strange sound.
Chapter 22
Matthew and Luke moaned when Lily rousted them to feed and water the stock, but it didn’t bother her. Every time they had to part with their pa, it had the same effect on them, and she knew it would take awhile for the pain to go away. Soon enough they’d turn back into the jovial helpers she knew and loved.
As she bent down at the hearth to flip the pancakes in the iron skillet, she recalled how a hymn had lifted her spirits earlier and determined to raise theirs as well. She lifted her voice to sing. “See Israel’s gentle Shepherd stand with all engaging charms; Hark! How He calls the tender lambs, and folds them in His arms.”
How wonderful it would have been to serve her brave lads a big helping of eggs, too. But the small flock of laying hens had failed to keep up with the demand of all the voracious eaters she’d had. At least there was plenty of butter and some peach jam she’d made yesterday after the men left. Walking outside, Lily clanged the bar around the triangle, calling the boys in to breakfast, then hurried back to pile the golden-brown flapjacks onto a platter.
Loud tromping issued from the porch. Never one to be late for a meal, Luke burst inside ahead of his brother. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Pancakes, fried fish, and peach jam.”
“Great! I’m starved.” He flew to the table. “Sure am glad you’re back.”
Matt, still under a cloud, trudged behind the younger boy and plopped down at the table, his forearms resting on the surface, his shoulders slumped.
Lily’s heart went out to him. “I hope you both remembered to wash up,” she said brightly.
“Sure did.” Luke displayed a pair of drippy hands.
“Better dry them on your napkin.” Moving beside him, she forked a stack of hotcakes onto his trencher then moved to Matt’s and filled his. She couldn’t resist giving him a kiss on the cheek and softening her tone. “ ’Tis hard, I know. But this time we can be assured he’ll be back come November.”
“You really believe that?” He cast a despondent glance up at her, his blue eyes dull.
“Of course I do. Your pa promised not to sign on again, didn’t he?” Setting the platter down, she pulled out the chair beside him and sank onto it. “The good Lord tells us not to borrow trouble. He says we should only concern ourselves with the worries of the day.”
He let out a huff. “Well, that’s my worry t
oday. An’ you should be worried, too. Our Emma got took by redskins, an’ then you had to run from ’em yourself, hidin’ lost for days. An’ Pa—he’s probably out there right now chasin’ after them wild savages. Anything could happen to him.”
“Dear, dear Matty.” Lily placed a hand on his. “It’s wonderful that you care so deeply about things. It shows you’re becoming a young man. But if you recall, your pa and the others were going directly back to the fort to report in.”
“Aye, an’ there’s a whole lot of forest between here an’ there where those heathens could be skulkin’ around, waitin’ to pounce.”
“Well then, the thing to do is pray for him. Right now, while we ask the blessing for the food. Let’s bow our heads.” She paused. “Thank You, heavenly Father, for the bounty You provided for us this day. We lift up a special prayer for John and Nate and the two longhunters. Please surround them with angels and shield them from danger as they travel to the fort. And, again, look after the two little boys who were captured. Keep Your hand upon them while they’re with the Indians and bring them safely home. We ask these things in the name of Your Son. Amen.”
Matt grunted and reached for his glass of milk.
“Don’t you believe God listens to our prayers?” Lily asked quietly.
“He might be listenin’, but that don’t mean He’s gonna do nothin’.”
Reaching over to him, Lily took him by the shoulders and turned him to face her. “We prayed for Emma, Matt, and God brought her back to us, didn’t He? I prayed the Indians wouldn’t find me, and they didn’t. Surely that proves the Lord hears prayer.”
“Oh yeah? I’ll wager the mama and papa of them little boys prayed mornin’ and night that the Injuns wouldn’t come an’ burn ’em out an’ kill ’em an’ take their little ones. But it still happened, didn’t it? An’ what about Mama? We prayed and prayed for her all the time, an’ she still died. All them prayers didn’t change nothin’.”
Lily had no answer. What he said was true. Why had God saved her and Emma and not that other family? Still, she couldn’t leave the subject there. “Tomorrow’s the Sabbath. When Grampa Mac comes, we’ll ask him those questions. I’m sure he’ll know the reason why bad things happen to some people and not others.”
Unimpressed, Matt scoffed. “He’ll come up with somethin’. Probably the usual pretty words that sound good. He always comes up with those.”
The day wore on, and Lily could not get Matt’s words out of her mind. Added to that, the sweet peace she’d found early that morning had vanished. Did God truly care about His children as much as the Bible said? She ran the iron over the back of Luke’s Sunday shirt. Did prayer actually make a difference…or was it time and chance that affected the outcome of situations?
A splintering sound broke into her thoughts, and she went to the window to check on the boys. For more than an hour now, they’d been taking turns splitting logs at the chopping stump and stacking the wood in the shed. As always, Matt’s musket leaned against the wall of the woodshed, while old, shaggy Duke lay with his head on his paws, watching from nearby with his chocolate eyes at half-staff.
John’s sons were good boys. Lily hoped old Mr. MacBride would have a satisfactory answer for Matt. And for her. Strange how a day could begin with such promise and then end with such doubt. It even looked like rain was headed their way. Perhaps it would be best to call the boys inside so they could work a few sums on their slates before supper.
After lifting the shirt off the workboard, she carefully folded it and set it atop Matt’s, then carried the hot iron to its plate on the hearth. Unhooking the big spoon, she stirred the bubbling kettle of beans. She, Matt, and Luke would have some this eve; the rest would be shared with the neighbors tomorrow. It would be a treat to see everyone again. Lily was particularly anxious to learn how little Mary was faring now, after having been rescued with Emma. She replaced the spoon and went to summon the boys.
Suddenly, Duke’s barking shattered the stillness.
Lily told herself not to be frightened. She reached above the door and took down the musket and powder horn, then poured gunpowder into the flashpan. She opened the door.
Matt and Luke were striding toward the path with Duke still barking as he loped beside them. Matt had his musket tucked under one arm, his gaze trained in the direction the dog had sensed alarm. Luke was armed now with the pistol, since Lily had purchased a musket for herself in Reading.
“Quit yapping, Duke, you mangy mutt,” came a male voice in the distance.
Obviously someone they knew. Lily stepped out onto the porch to have a look.
A lone rider emerged from the dark forest.
“Aw, it’s just Robby!” Matt called, tossing a glance over his shoulder to her. He jabbed a finger at the dog. “Pipe down, boy.”
Robby! Why would he come here this evening, when the whole cove will attend the Sabbath service tomorrow? And with rain coming!
“Halloo the house!” Robby plodded around the corner on his old roan workhorse.
Matt and Luke went to meet him then walked alongside him until he reached the front of the cabin.
“What’s up?” Matt frowned. “Somethin’ wrong?”
“Sure is.” Robby caught sight of Lily just then, and his whole face lit up with a smile. “I just heard you was back, Lily. I sure did miss you—I mean—we sure missed you. Ever’body did.”
She offered him a genuine smile, though she remained on the porch. “I’m pleased to hear that. I missed all of you, too.”
“Jackson Dunlap said you was all scratched up an’ I shouldn’t bother you yet.” He swung down and casually let the reins drop to the ground as he walked toward her. He tipped his head, scrutinizing her with those big hazel eyes of his. “ ‘Cept for that little scratch on your cheek, you look plumb purty.”
Matt cut in before she could respond. “Well, she’s real wore out. Not up to a whole lot of company this evenin’.”
Robby’s happy expression wavered, and he ran a hand through the short, sandy curls all the cove girls went dreamy-eyed over. “That’s what Jackson said, but I needed to see for myself. I won’t be stayin’.” He shuffled back toward the roan.
Lily couldn’t help feeling sorry for the lad. “Since you took the time to ride down here, please, do come inside. I was just about to call the boys in. I baked two peach cobblers for tomorrow. I don’t believe folks would mind if we sampled some now, while it’s warm.”
His grin came back full force. “Thanks. That sounds real pleasuresome.”
Glancing past him to glowering Matt and Luke, however, Lily could tell that, peach cobbler or not, they didn’t appreciate her invitation to Robby Randall. It would appear her young roosters didn’t like anyone sniffing around their henhouse.
This was the first Sabbath Lily had spent at home since Susan died. Strange, how much faster she’d been able to finish the preparations for the service without the young ones underfoot and Susan to get ready. But the house felt empty without Davy scampering in and out and Emma helping wherever she could. Even in her weakest moments, Susan had loved to have company and always looked forward to catching up on everyone’s news. Her blue-green eyes would sparkle against her pale skin. Emma had those same beautiful eyes. How were she and Davy faring now? Sadness started creeping in.
Lily swallowed against the hard knot in her throat and glanced out the bedroom window. The morning had dawned bright and sunny with not a single storm cloud in sight. A lovely day lay ahead.
Tightening the front laces of a rather ordinary day gown, she bemoaned the loss of the more stylish clothes she’d taken to Philadelphia. Likely some Indian woman was strutting about in the elaborate riding costume Mistress Gilford had given her, the scarf and bonnet plume trailing behind in the breeze. Lily sighed. No sense dwelling on what was lost.
She strode to the mirror and began dressing her hair in the simple upsweep she often wore on Sundays. She must remember to arrange a few moments alone with Elder MacBride
so she and Matt could hear their much-needed explanation for why God chose to allow undeserved horrors to befall on so many good Christian people. In her four years in Beaver Cove, she hadn’t met a single farmsteader who didn’t attend services every Sunday. They all gladly offered a hand in Christian charity to anyone with a need.
Lily knew that actually finding a private moment with their pastor would be difficult. The neighbors would be eager to hear the latest news from Philadelphia and about her own harrowing adventure in the wilds. And if Robby Randall’s attention yestereve was any indication, he’d be hovering at her side all the while he was here. So would Jackson Dunlap. Lily still felt appalled over that bold kiss he’d planted on her in front of the men.
Well, none of that could take precedence. She’d simply have to find a way to get time alone with Mr. MacBride somehow. She pushed the last hairpin in place then pulled a few shorter tendrils loose at her temples to soften the look. Finished with her toilette, she went out into the front room, where benches already formed rows and scuffling sounds issued from the loft. “Are you two ready yet?”
Luke leaned over the railing. “Just gotta comb my hair.”
“Shoes good and shiny?” How like a mother I sound! She rolled her eyes.
“Uh-huh.” He nonchalantly rubbed the toe of one on the stockinged calf of his other leg.
Matt moved into view. “My shoes are clean and—”
Rapid barking interrupted his statement.
Lily shot a glance to the mantel clock. “No one should be arriving for another half hour.” And Duke gave up barking at friends and neighbors months ago. Whirling around, she went for her weapon.
The boys scrambled down the ladder and ran for theirs as she opened the door and stepped outside.
The dog stood in the middle of the wagon lane, growling in that direction and baring his teeth. He barked again toward pounding hoofbeats.
Jackson Dunlap emerged at a canter from the dense trees.
“Quiet!” she ordered from the top step.
Daughters of Harwood House Trilogy : Three Romances Tell the Saga of Sisters Sold into Indentured Service (9781630586140) Page 81
