by Bonnie Leon
He removed his hat and leaned against the fence. Hannah joined him, tucking herself in beneath his arm. He turned a warm smile on her. “It’s grand to see you.” Enfolding her in his arms, he buried his face in her hair. “You smell good.”
“I’ve missed you.” Close to tears, Hannah pressed her face against his neck and tightened her hold. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
“How good it is to be here. All I’ve done is think about you.” Keeping one arm around her, John turned to study the sheep. “We’ve had long, hard days, but we’ve done it.” He looked at Quincy and chuckled. “These are not the smartest animals. I daresay a chicken has more brains than a ewe.”
“Intent on getting themselves killed, I’d say.” Quincy grinned.
“We need a good herding dog.”
“A dog?” Hannah asked.
“If we’re going to raise sheep, we have to get one. Not just any will do, though. Mr. Jones has three he uses for herding. They’re smart and know how to round up sheep and how to keep them from becoming unruly. They’re born that way, knowing what to do. They only need a bit of training. Jones has a female ready to whelp any day. Told me I could have my pick out of the litter for a bit of machine work that he needs done.”
“A dog, eh?” Hannah grinned. “I’d like to see one that knows how to watch over sheep.”
John laid his arms on the top of the fence and rested a foot on the bottom board. “These animals might be stupider than a rock, but they’re sturdy—Merinos from South Africa. Good for mutton and for wool. And in a few months there’ll be lambs.”
Hannah gazed at the shuffling, bleating animals and suddenly felt overwhelmed. How were they going to do this? They knew nothing about raising sheep.
“We’ll be busy come late April, early May. We can expect a lamb from every one of them. And I’m hoping to have more ewes by then too. Mr. Jones said he’d have more when I’m ready.”
“Will the new ones also be carrying lambs?”
“I should hope so.”
“That sounds like a lot of sheep. Do we have enough land?” “I was told that Mr. Jones might allow us to run our sheep on his land since he’s living in Sydney Town and not using it. I’ll ask him.”
“He’s a good man.” Quincy leaned against the fence and eyed the ewes. “Ye can count on losses. Sometimes it seems lambs are born trying to die. If they make it, there are dingoes to think about and disease. And ye’ll need a warm dry place for the ewes to drop the lambs.”
“We’ll have a shed up by then.” John lifted his hat and resettled it on his head. “We’ll do all right.” He turned to Hannah. “How did you fare, luv? Any trouble while we were gone?”
“No.” Hannah said, deciding not to tell him about her fright, at least not just yet. It would only worry him. “Except for Patience. I’m still dreadfully slow at milking, and she won’t stand still long enough for me to finish. I’m worried that if she’s not milked thoroughly, she’ll dry up.”
John dropped an arm over Hannah’s shoulders. “Tomorrow, first thing, I’ll get the stanchion built.”
“First thing, you’ll milk her.”
John smiled and nodded, then glanced at the sky, its blue color deepening as the sun perched on the horizon. “It’ll be dark soon. Figure I’ll take a bath in the river.”
“I’ve stew cooking.”
“Good. I’m starved.”
Hannah moved toward the house. “You’ll need clean clothes.” She glanced at Quincy. “You too. I washed your trousers and shirt, as well.”
“Ye did? Thank ye.” Grinning, Quincy followed John and Hannah to the house.
Hannah shook out an apron, draped it over the clothesline, and then reached into her pocket for a wooden pin to secure it. A wind gust picked up dirt and leaves and swirled them into the air. She groaned. If the wind kept up, the clothes would only get dirty again.
She heard the sound of some sort of conveyance down at the road. She stopped and listened, hoping it wouldn’t pass. Visitors were rare. The jangling of bridles and harnesses quieted and then grew louder as the vehicle moved closer.
Hannah gazed at the road. A wagon approached. There were two people sitting on the front bench—Lydia and Lottie! She’d not seen Lottie for a long while. When they’d crossed from Britain on the prison ship, they were nearly inseparable. Lottie had seemed like her own child.
“Oh,” Hannah exclaimed, running to greet her friends. “I can barely believe my eyes,” she said as Lydia pulled the horses to a stop. Hannah reached up and helped Lottie down. She hugged the little girl. “What a grand surprise.” She turned toward Lydia. “How wonderful to see you.”
Lydia moved around the horses and opened her arms to Hannah. “I’ve missed ye. How have ye been getting along way out here?”
“Good.” Hannah glanced to the north. “John and Quincy are working with the sheep. There’s always so much to do. And they spend a goodly amount of time trying to keep the roaming creatures from straying too far.”
“Too bad ye don’t have a sheepherder,” said Lottie. “They’ll keep watch over them for ye.” When she talked she bobbed her head, tousling her auburn curls.
“Indeed, that would be grand. But we’ve no money for such a luxury. Perhaps one day.” She smiled at Lydia. “I can still barely believe you’ve come.”
“We were worried ’bout ye. We’ve not seen ye at church for two Sundays, now.”
“John’s been working hard. Most days we labor from light ’til dark. He didn’t feel he could take even one day away.” Hannah frowned. “I’ve missed church but didn’t have the heart to leave him. He promised this week we’d go no matter what.” She returned to the basket of clothes. “Let me finish hanging these and then we can go inside for tea.”
Lydia and Lottie helped Hannah hang up the remaining clothes and then the three walked toward the house.
“It’s blistering hot,” Lydia said. “And I went off without my bonnet.” She glanced at the hazy sky. “This wind isn’t a help. Only makes things worse.”
Hannah stepped onto the cottage porch. She smiled down at Lottie. “Would you like a biscuit? I have some fresh baked.”
“I’d like that.” Lottie grasped her hand. “I’ve missed ye, mum. Why don’t ye come to see me more?”
Hannah leaned close to Lottie and gently brushed a loose lock of hair off her face. “I wish I could, sweetie. But since John and I moved here, there’s always something that needs my attention.” She nodded at a garden patch. “I managed to get the garden in, but it was a bit late. The vegetables don’t like the heat, so I doubt we’ll get much from it. But next spring will be different.”
Lottie made a face, her freckles crinkling. “I don’t like vegetables much anyway.”
Hannah stepped inside the door. “Please, come in.” She took three cups from the cupboard and set them on the small table near the window. “John made this table, and the chairs to go with it.”
Lydia ran her palm over the surface. “It’s well done and feels sturdy.”
Hannah lifted a kettle out of the hearth and poured brewed tea through a strainer and into a teapot, and then she filled the cups with the hot beverage. When she’d finished, she returned the soaking tea leaves to the water and set the pot on the hearth. “I haven’t any sugar.”
“I don’t mind.” Lydia accepted the warm drink.
After climbing onto another chair, Lottie daintily picked up her cup.
Hannah smiled. She was obviously trying to behave like a grown-up. “You’re becoming such a young lady, Lottie.”
Her eyes brightened and her face flushed pink. “I’ve no need for sugar.” The ten-year-old took a sip. “This is quite good.”
“Thank you.” Hannah set a plate of biscuits on the table and joined her friends.
“So how do ye like living out here?” Lydia asked. “It’s a bit isolated.”
“It is, but I like it. Except I don’t see my friends often enough. John works hard, but he’s not
had time to build a better house. He will, though, just as soon as some of the necessities are completed.”
Lydia glanced about. “I think ye’ve made it look real homey.” Hannah knew the house looked dismal, but there was nothing to be done about it. Changing the subject, she said, “I’ve learned something new.” She pressed her lips together as if holding back a secret. “John taught me how to load and shoot a pistol and the musket.”
“Did he really?” Lydia leaned forward on her arms. “Ye need to know that, living way out here.”
“And I’ve learned to ride too,” Hannah added.
“You mean a horse?” asked Lottie.
“Yes. It’s splendid fun.” Hannah gazed at her tea and quietly added, “I ride astride.”
“Really?” Lydia giggled. “Oh, wouldn’t Mrs. Goudy be in a dither over that. And so would Mrs. Atherton, I should think.”
“It’s a necessity. I’ve no sidesaddle. And I decided if I was to be of any help to John, I’d best learn.”
“He doesn’t mind?”
“I don’t think so, at least not if I stay close to home. But he did say that the next time he goes for sheep, he’d like to have my help.”
Humor in her eyes, Lydia looked at Hannah from beneath her lashes. “It’s scandalous. What will people say when they see you?”
“I’m not certain I have the courage to ride off the property, but I suppose I’ll have to, at least if I’m to help with the sheep.”
“When will that be?”
“Soon. John’s doing some extra work for Mr. Atherton so we’ll have enough money for another horse plus the sheep.”
“I’ve seen him ’bout from time to time.”
Hannah picked up a biscuit. “John told me he’s seen Dr. Gelson there on occasion.”
Lydia’s face reddened. “He drops in now and again.”
Lottie leaned her elbows on the table. “The last two Sundays he sat with Lydia in church. And he’s always smiling at her.”
“Really?” Hannah raised her eyebrows.
Speaking through a mouthful, Lottie said, “I heard he comes ’round all the time, mostly to see Lydia. He was there today.”
“You were at the Athertons’?” Hannah asked.
“Yes, me and Mum went to visit.”
Hannah felt a pang of envy. She wished Lottie were her child. She had been once, sort of.
“I asked Lydia if she’d bring me out to see ye.” Lottie smiled. “But then Dr. Gelson came by. I don’t think he was happy Lydia was leaving.”
“So, you’re a pair, then?” Hannah asked.
“He’s not announced any intentions. But we do see each other.” Lydia’s golden skin turned a deeper bronze.
“And what of Perry? Has he found anyone?”
“Perhaps. He and Gwen seem to be getting along well.”
“Good.”
Lydia gazed about the tiny cabin. Her eyes settled on the ceiling made of tree bark and sod. “Will you be putting up a new roof?”
“In time. But not right away. We’ve very little capital.”
Lydia continued to study the ceiling. “I doubt it will hold if we get much in the way of rain.”
Hannah understood they needed a stronger roof, but there was nothing they could do about it now. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. The barn still needs to be built. And we’ve need of a lambing shed as well.” She drank the last of her tea. “John refuses to borrow any money.”
A furrow cut across Lydia’s forehead. “There must be something that can be done. I can’t bear the thought of you spending the winter in this cabin.”
“It’s better than what we knew on board ship and at the factory. And we managed well enough.”
“I don’t know how well we managed, but we did survive.”
Grinding and dredging noises woke John. And there was a jangle of harnesses mixed with the sound of voices. It was all coming from down by the road. Sitting up, he threw back his blanket and clambered out of bed. “Good Lord, what is that racket?” He moved to the window. A parade of wagons, horses, and people rattled up the drive.
Bewildered, he stared at the menagerie. “What’s this?”
Hannah catapulted out of bed.
“Looks like the whole blooming town is here.”
Hannah joined John at the window.
Perry drove a dray loaded with stones. Gwen sat on the seat beside him. Lydia walked alongside a pair of draft horses that pulled the heavily loaded cart. She smiled and waved at Hannah and John.
“Do you know what this is about?” Hannah asked.
“I’ve not a clue.” John pulled on trousers and a shirt and pushed his feet into boots. Combing back mussed hair with his fingers, he stepped outside.
Mr. Atherton drove another cart loaded with lumber. John approached him. “Good day, William. What is all this?” He looked at the collection of people and beasts.
William Atherton climbed down from the wagon. “It seems you’ve a number of friends who don’t like the idea of your spending the winter in a hut.”
“We’ve come to build you a proper house,” Lydia said, striding up beside Mr. Atherton.
His mind still muddled from sleep, John couldn’t grasp the truth of the situation. “I’ve not even ordered materials.”
“True enough,” William Atherton said, wearing a playful expression. “But we did.” He turned to look at the people and the wagons loaded with building supplies and then back at John. “If you could kindly show us where you want the house to stand, we can begin working.”
John didn’t know how to reply. He took a step closer to Mr. Atherton and whispered, “I’ve no money.”
“That may be true, but you’ve a great deal of skill. You can count this as a loan against the work I’ll need from you.” He cocked one eyebrow. “Is that acceptable?”
Still perplexed and overwhelmed, John stared at William for a long moment and then looked at Hannah who stood in the doorway. Her expression of shock transformed into a grateful smile. John turned back to Mr. Atherton. “That would suit me fine, sir.” He held out a hand to his former employer. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
John looked at the people who had gathered. “Thanks to you all.”
“So, where would you like the house?” Mr. Atherton asked.
John pointed at a piece of ground he’d leveled where he’d hoped one day to construct a home. “I believe that will do nicely.”
“It will at that.” Mr. Atherton and the men went to work unloading the wagons. The dray was maneuvered into the center of the building site, and a group of men hefted stones that would be used for the fireplace. Others carried lumber and a myriad of other building materials.
Hannah stood beside John. He slipped an arm about her waist. “I can hardly believe it.” She leaned against him, and John kissed the top of her head. “I’d best get to work,” he said, barely able to speak around the lump in his throat. He blinked back tears and hugged Hannah more tightly. He’d prayed and God had answered.
The next few days John and Hannah’s place was a frenzy of activity as the hearth was built and the house around it. The women kept the men fed and managed to see to the farming chores. As the house grew, they helped Hannah with the tasks of washing and scrubbing, and in the quieter moments they worked on a quilt Mrs. Atherton had started many weeks before.
The day the home was finished, a feast of roasted pig, potatoes, string beans, turnips, and an assortment of desserts was prepared. The furnishings were moved into the house, and Catharine Atherton carried in the finished quilt and placed it on John and Hannah’s bed. “Something new for your home.” “Thank you,” Hannah said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
With the house finished, John and Hannah stood in the yard, arms intertwined, and gazed at their new home. It was a fine house, with three rooms downstairs, a loft upstairs, and a solid roof. Plus there were windows with glass panes.
John clasped Hannah’s hand and led her indoors.
The sound of their footsteps echoed on the new wood floor. Hannah walked to the hearth and rested her hand on an oven that had been built into the stone face. “It’s too much.” She looked at her friends. They’d crowded into the room behind them. “I couldn’t imagine a finer home.”
John pulled Hannah in close to his side and turned to face his friends. “There are not adequate words to thank all of you.”
“We consider ourselves thanked,” Mr. Atherton said.
Catharine moved to Hannah, and taking her hands in hers, she looked intently into the younger woman’s eyes. Gently she said, “To William and I, you and John are like our own.” Her eyes were awash with tears.
Hannah squeezed Catharine’s hands.
“All right, then. How ’bout a bit of music?” Quincy slipped a mouth harp out of his front shirt pocket and put it to his lips. Lanterns were lit as the sun set. Music echoed across the farm. Friends and neighbors feasted, danced, talked, and laughed. It was a perfect night.
“I’m almost too full to move,” John said, resting a hand on his stomach. “But I dare not pass up this opportunity to dance with my wife.” He led Hannah to a level piece of ground and took her into his arms. “I haven’t felt so carefree since . . . well, since forever.” Gazing into his wife’s brown eyes, he said more seriously, “I wanted to give this to you, but . . .”
Hannah put a finger to his lips. “I know. And God knew your heart.” Her hand moved to his neck. “I would have been happy living anywhere with you.”
“God has blessed us.” He gazed at the house.
“And you deserve it, John. You’ve worked so hard and you’ve trusted in the Lord.”
“It’s you who deserve the best of everything.”
Doubt touched Hannah’s eyes. “Certainly not everything.”
John wondered what he’d seen there, but he didn’t want to spoil the mood, so instead of saying anything, he surveyed the house. “It’s a good sturdy home, a fine place to raise a family. When the children come, we’ll use the extra room downstairs, and as they grow, the loft will serve them well.” A stricken expression flashed across Hannah’s face. He pulled her close. “Don’t worry, luv; we’ll have children. We’ve not been married that long yet.”
