by Laura Locke
“Johanna? Is there a problem?”
She shook her head. “No Father, none at all.”
Melody’s shoulders were rocking with happiness. Johanna would have to come up with something, but she would wait until her mother and father had gone. “When do you leave?” she asked.
“At the rise of the sun,” Ira told them. “Mother, you had best get your baggage packed while I see to bringing Richard current out in the barn. Melody you’re to aid your mother and go over the orders and Johanna, you’re to take inventory and make a list of what we need from the shoppe in the village before I leave.”
Everyone stood, having heard the tone of conclusion in Ira’s tone, and set about their business. Sylvia headed for her combination bedroom and sewing studio and Melody followed, but not before she looked over her shoulder and stuck a tongue out at Johanna. Johanna was fuming.
Quickly, she went through the larder and shelves and scribbled a few necessary supplies on a bit of parchment. Picking up her shawl, she headed out to the barn and approached Ira, handing him the list. He gave it a glance and nodded. “Go into the village and get what is needed. Tell them I will stop by on my way in the morning and settle up. Go on now,” he told her and turned back to show Richard the rear hoof of a carriage horse that was in need of special care.
Johanna laid her shawl up over her head and set off, taking her time and smelling blooms and touching the flowering bushes she passed along her way.
As she neared the village, she saw Aunt Margaret, the old lady matchmaker, sitting in her rocker on her porch. She waved in a friendly manner as Aunt Margaret carried considerable good will in the village and both her parents’ businesses depended on that reference. “Hello, Aunt Margaret,” she called.
“Who is that?” shrieked the old woman, barely able to see beyond the end of her own porch.
“It’s me, Johanna Wellchester, Aunt Margaret,” she called back.
“Little Johanna? Well, come here, child. Come closer and let me see you. Why I haven’t seen you since you were a young child,” the old woman said again, just as she did every time Johanna encountered her. The older woman’s memory was failing badly, but the villagers helped to take care of her as she had no children of her own and they patiently helped her sort through her muddled memories and forgetfulness.
Not having anything particularly pressing, Johanna opened the gate and walked up to the porch. It was low-roofed and had columns layered with roses and ivy. Aunt Margaret looked quite cozy in her wicker chair with a pieced quilt in her lap. “Come closer,” she urged Johanna.
Johanna was already standing next to her, so she placed a hand on Aunt Margaret’s arm so the old lady could feel her presence. “I’ve been meaning to send for you,” Aunt Margaret told her.
“Oh? Is there something with which I may help you?”
“Me? Oh, no, no, dear, I’m too far over that wall. No, dear, it’s about you. You see, I’ve come across the right one for you, my dear.”
“Right one?” Johanna was puzzled at first, but then it dawned upon her what Aunt Margaret meant. “You mean a suitor?”
“Oh, yes, and a good one he is. He is a man of property, a professional man. He would understand the curious notion of your family having trades. He was married but his wife and child died when the child came early. He has now emerged from his mourning and is ready to begin again.”
Johanna was shaking her head. “Oh, Aunt Margaret, I appreciate your kind thoughtfulness, but I fear I am not ready to be married yet.”
“Not ready? What do you mean? You have seen eighteen summers, all three of you. I was there the night you were born, do not forget. Do not believe what they say about me. I’m not daft, it’s just convenient to behave so. Makes others fuss and lets me rest my aching knees.”
“But, Aunt Margaret, I am not ready to settle and begin having babies. I want to run free. I am only now beginning to see a bit of the world. Please do not tell my parents, but I would like to travel.”
“Stuff and nonsense. Where do you get such notions?” Aunt Margaret pulled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. “I have seen many the year, mind you. And they have all been alone. I will not let the world do the same to you, Johanna, no, my girl, certainly not!”
“Oh, now, Aunt Margaret,” Johanna chided her. “You are not to worry about me. My mother and father, brother and sister do enough of that to keep me safe.”
Johanna could tell by the look on Aunt Margaret’s face that she was not convinced. “You will see, my child. He is a good man and has patience, but it will not last forever. I have already spoken to him of you.”
Johanna’s head popped up. “You have?” She shook her head. “I appreciate your kindness but wish you had not given the gentleman any ideas with regard to me.”
“Tsk, now we shall not have any more of this for the time being. Go inside, my girl, and bring Aunt Margaret a cup of tea. There is a good girl.”
Johanna patted the old lady’s hand and went inside to do her bidding.
Chapter 9
Johanna did not mention Aunt Margaret’s conversation when she arrived back at the cottage, her arms laden with purchases. There was no need to stir up trouble. Johanna had plans of her own.
Ira and Sylvia were in the buggy and on their way just as the sun rose the next morning. Melody snatched at the covers from Johanna’s bed, proclaiming, “Up, up, now. There’s so much to be done. I’ll have my breakfast now and Mother has a client coming midday for her gown and it has yet to be hemmed!” To her astonishment, there was no Johanna beneath the covers, but a sculpted pile of linens.
“Richard!” she cried, nearly stumbling as she hurried downstairs and out the kitchen door toward the barn. “Richard!”
He looked up as she came barreling into the barn, startling the horse he was shoeing. “Melody! Stop that! You will surely get me kicked!” His face was flushed with anger at her carelessness.
“I apologize but Johanna is not in bed! She piled linens beneath her blanket to appear as though she was, but she’s not to be found!”
Richard rolled his eyes. “And what else is new? Were you yourself not so lazy, you would know she does that most every morning. Jaunting off through her forest, as she calls it. Most assuredly she wanted to be well ahead of you this morning or risk her freedom. We shall deal with her when she returns,” he said in a voice that did not bode well for Johanna. “In the meantime, make me some breakfast.”
“But…” her voice trailed off as a thought occurred to her and she hurried back indoors and up to Johanna’s room. Throwing open the wardrobe door, she was not surprised to see the printed blue dress was gone.
“She’s wearing it!” Melody gasped aloud to herself, filled with indignation. The lace-cuffed dress that was to be hers was hanging clearly in sight, and unlaundered as Johanna would have never had time to accomplish that without Melody having seen it drying or being pressed. She stomped down the stairs and pulled the loaf of two-day-old bread from the larder, slicing thick pieces and spreading it with creamy butter. A mug of light ale also went to the heavy trestle table and Melody opened the door to call for Richard to come in and eat. Having lost her own appetite, she trudged to the sewing corner of Sylvia’s room and took up the gown that still needed to be hemmed, muttering to herself all the while.
A loaf of day-old bread tucked beneath her shawl, Johanna crept toward Shepherd’s Nest with the stealth of a cat approaching a bird. When she came close enough to see it, she spotted a thin wisp of smoking issuing from the chimney. Apparently, the soldier is still alive she thought to herself and knelt in some brush on the side of the path to watch for a bit.
It was not long before the tall man emerged from the hut, stretching his arms upward to indicate he had only just risen and was still working out the kinks of slumber. A wren hopped unconcernedly about his feet, gathering her own breakfast. Johanna thought this a very good sign as animals had a way of knowing the character of a human and apparently, that wr
en approved of that particular man. Careful to stay out of view, Johanna kept her position and watched.
The soldier approached the creek and knelt, peeling off his jacket and shirt. Johanna gasped and quickly closed her eyes, drawing backward. She did not fully understand why that which she had already seen should have such an improper effect on her, but it did. Placing one hand over her eyes, she parted her fingers slightly and peeped enough to see him lift armfuls of water over himself. It cascaded over his head and rippled over the cords of muscle in his shoulders and of his back. His hands smoothed back his hair and he took several mouthfuls, rinsing and spitting before finally drinking from a clean handful of the clear, rock-filtered water.
This time, viewing him was different. He was not unconscious and in danger of dying. While not yet in peak condition, he could certainly escape if he chose to, and yet he did not. Why was that? she wondered. She felt a curious warmth and her heart pumped a little harder at the idea of having him protect her. He was more than just a stranger, after all… he was her soldier.
“You can come down now!” called a male voice. Johanna’s eyes flew open and without thinking, she leapt to her feet. He had known she was watching!
She heard laughter. Caught, she had no choice now but to approach.
“Well, Johanna, did you think my soldiering skills so poor as to allow a young maiden observe me without comment?”
“Ohhhh, you! You knew I was there!” she sputtered.
“I did, indeed. Here, what have you brought me beneath that shawl? I hope, indeed, it is more of that bread you left for me. I have a fearsome appetite and need my strength if I am to be on my way, you know.”
She handed it to him without a word and turned to go.
“Hold on there, Johanna. Sit down a moment and converse with me. I am also in need of some information and either you can stay and speak with me here, or I will follow you and we can share it with your family,” he said quietly but in a very firm tone.
Johanna’s eyes widened.
He laughed. “Just as I thought. They do not know of your coming here and most certainly not that you have allowed yourself to be alone with a strange man, much less a hardened soldier.”
Johanna thought she would faint. What was he suggesting had or would happen?
He laughed again, this time more loudly. “Never fear, your virtue is safe with me. Now sit, the lovely Johanna, and allow me to ask you some questions.”
She had no choice. Surely, he would overtake her if she tried to run.
“Might I add that you are looking especially fetching this morning in that blue dress,” he told her, waiting for her reaction.
Her eyes shot downward to the skirt of Melody’s printed blue dress. She grimaced internally, knowing there would be the devil to pay when she got back to the cottage, especially since she did not have Richard wound around her little finger in the same way as her father. Richard, by virtue of being the male, had been put in charge.
Hesitantly, she asked him, “What would you have me tell you?”
His face immediately grew serious, and he propped one boot upon a rock, breaking off chunks of bread as he gave thought to his situation. “Where is the closest village – supposedly where you live?”
“Tymington. It is a short walk from here through the woods,” she said, pointing over her shoulder and northward. “I should think your horse could easily navigate the trees.”
He nodded and chewed another chunk. “Are there Scots who frequent here?”
She thought a moment, her attention diverted by his stepping to the creek to gather another mouthful of water. The drops glistened on his tan chest in the early sunlight. Again, she felt the tingling in her stomach, and her hand clutched her waist as though to hide it. He noted it, however, and grinned, although was gentleman enough not to call attention to it. Shaking her head, she told him, “Not really. The occasional rider passes through the village, but we’re not bothered. There are families here who have Scottish ancestry, but they tend to keep to themselves. We are a peaceful community for the most part.”
“Have any other British soldiers been seen?” He was continuing to question her.
“None that I’ve seen recently.”
“Well, Mistress Johanna, thank you very much for your help. Now, tell me… are there any more at home like you?”
She nodded. “Two.”
“Two?”
“Yes. I am one of triplets.”
“Do tell. Now that is a rare event. All girls?”
She shook her head. “I have a brother.”
“I see.”
Johanna suddenly sprang to her feet. “I must go!” The mention of Richard prompted her to realize the amount of time that had passed. If she waited any longer, he was liable to show up on the path, looking for her.
The soldier watched her leave and wondered if she could be trusted. The man watched her leave and wondered if he could trust himself.
Chapter 10
Richard was waiting for her. He was standing at the trail’s entrance from their farm, his feet planted in a wide stance. An approaching storm colored his features. “Where have you been?”
She had expected this and was somewhat prepared. Over his shoulder she could see Melody peering from the kitchen window, a look of satisfaction on her features.
Johanna tried to keep it casual. “Why, for my walk, Richard. You know I do this every day.”
“Not while Father is gone, you won’t,” he informed her. “I’m in charge, and there’s enough work to keep me more than busy without chasing after you.”
“I am not asking you to chase after me. I’m grown and even older than you, not a babe.”
“We are not going to have that discussion again,” he retorted, putting his foot down.
“Is it a lie?”
“Well, no, but you know very well I’m old enough to have my own household and would be responsible for everyone and everything in it if I did.”
“I can claim the same, Brother. Do not test my patience. I might spit in your ale.”
“You’ll do no such thing!” Richard’s voice cracked, exposing that the grown man’s voice had not entirely caught up with him yet.
“See there? You still sound like a child. Now, if we are to spend this entire time tattling and ordering one another about, a fine mess that will leave for Father to sort out when he comes home and is tired from his journey. I should think you would want to focus on keeping the smithy productive, as I will the house. Then Father will have greater faith in you and may let you work beside him and take a wife. Otherwise, you will be sorely out of luck for a way to provide for a wife.”
Richard swallowed hard, for he knew the truth of her words. As much as he hated to admit it, Johanna often proved to be the most sensible of the three of them. She was certainly the most wily and expected to get her way.
He waved her past with his hand and went back into the smithy, an apologetic look to Melody, who, Johanna acknowledged had most likely promised him something in return for taking her to task. Johanna glanced and saw a look of disappointment on Melody’s round face.
Another day, Sister, dear, Johanna thought to herself. You’ll have to get up earlier in the morning to outsmart me, and we both know you’re too lazy.
Johanna walked into the kitchen where Melody was waiting. She looked at her sister expectantly. “Well? Out with whatever you have to say and then get back to your sewing while I begin a pot of stew for our supper.”
“Oh, no you don’t, Johanna. You know very well that we had a deal. You were to get the dress you’re wearing and I was to get yours with the lace cuffs and you were to do my chores for a month.”
“That deal changed.”
“How so?” Melody was attempting to be intimidating, but she had little practice, being the third and most babied of the trio.
“First of all, here is your gown back. It does not fit me; it’s far too tight in the bosom.” Johanna began unlacing the corset and und
ressing right in the kitchen to emphasize her position.
“Johanna! What if Richard should come in?”
“He is busy with his chores, as you should be.” She handed Melody the gown and headed upstairs to put on her day gown to keep her better gowns from becoming soiled. She called over her shoulder. “Anyway, we made the deal before Mother and Father told us of their plans. I will cook and keep the house tidy. You are to run Mother’s business and do the laundering. Richard will keep the outside and the smithy running and between the three of us, Mother and Father will come back to a cozy, clean home of peace. If it is anything less than that, I will be sure they will know it is your fault.”
Melody was straining, looking for something to complain of. “Melody…” Johanna said her name in a tone of warning.
“Oh!” Melody tossed the gown over her shoulder and left the room, closing the sewing room door entirely too loudly.
Johanna sighed. “Peace at last,” she commented and began to hum a song.
The three of them had managed a negotiated peace. Melody kept to the sewing room and Richard, to the smithy, leaving Johanna the space and peace of mind to dream of her soldier.
The problem had become, however, what she was to do about him. She did not want to return to the hut while he was there because there was not only the risk of being followed by Richard or Melody, but the impropriety of it all. However, she knew if she did not go, she may never see him again. Of course, there was no reason to think that he had any desire whatsoever to see her again, so perhaps it was a moot point. She hoped it was not, but these were matters with which she had no experience. Her only sister was the same age and, if anything, more innocent than she. There was only one person she could think of who might provide good counsel and that was Aunt Margaret. But had she already ruined her reputation? Had she gone too far?
The next morning she made breakfast plates for her siblings and left them on platters warming over the fire. It was especially cool, so she put on her cape instead of simply her shawl over her head. She bundled a fresh loaf of bread, added a small jar of strawberry preserves and headed down the forest path.
