Taking a place at the opposite end, Gage braced the end of the paddle against the river’s edge and shoved them away from shore. The current caught the canoe, making it wallow slightly, and Shemaine’s heart leapt with fright. After all she had been through, it would be sheer travesty indeed if she were drowned only moments after leaving the London Pride.
Gage tossed a small tarp to her. “That should help keep you warm.”
Grateful for the protection from the rain and the watery view surrounding them, Shemaine spread the tarp over her head and huddled beneath its folds. Despite the raindrops that slashed into her face, she fastened her gaze upon the land beyond the riverbanks, searching for signs of life and habitation. Just beyond the hamlet, the countryside seemed flat and low, in some areas a grassy marshland inhabited by waterfowl and reptiles, but in other places there were thickets so dense they seemed impenetrable to anything but the smallest of animals. Shemaine was immediately impressed by the beauty of the wilderness, yet a little frightened of it, too, for she had no idea what to expect from this land or if she would be able to survive in it.
Occasionally through the downpour she saw where a cabin and. outbuildings were nestled in the trees or where others were in the process of being built. In a larger clearing she saw a much grander house being erected and was amazed at the spunk of the people who, having no guarantees of safety and security so far from civilization, would make such a commitment to the future.
The canoe glided with ease through the swiftly flowing current as Gage repeatedly dipped the wooden blade in the rain-pocked waters, stroking leisurely on one side and then the other, marking a course close to the riverbank where lofty, wide-spreading branches afforded them protection from the storm. Farther down the river, a profusion of pink and white petals, stripped from a snarled thicket of fruit trees growing near the shore, floated on the surface of the river beneath the shelter of their limbs. Others were being swept into the main channel, where they swirled chaotically in the current for a time before being drawn into the depths. Feeling as vulnerable as those tiny flower petals, Shemaine dismally mused on the similarities between her life and their short voyage on the river. Against her will, she had sailed across an ocean and was now being borne along to some strange destiny beyond her ken. Only time would reveal the outcome, if she would be swept under a darkly brooding morass of adversity or if she would remain afloat until she came to the end of her indentureship.
They finally came within sight of a sandy inlet where a partially finished ship rested in bracing stocks near the river’s edge. No one had to tell Shemaine that here was where Gage Thornton endeavored to build his dream. As they drew near, the ship seemed to loom above them like a sleek-framed edifice, much larger by far than Shemaine had dared to imagine. This would truly be a sailing vessel for the high seas, she thought in awe, realizing just how dedicated and enterprising the man who had designed her really was.
A large cabin stood on higher ground beyond the ship. Its sharply pitched roof seemed to thrust upward into the belly of a gray, turbulent haze that roiled close above the tall pines and deciduous trees surrounding the cabin. Their branches swayed to and fro with the strong winds that blustered through them and seemed to answer with a plaintive wail, as if bemoaning the fact that they had been disturbed.
Gage drove the canoe into the shallows near the bank. There he jumped to shore and dragged the craft from the river. The pelting raindrops continued to slash down upon them with a vengeance as he lifted Shemaine in his arms and raced toward the cabin. Carrying her easily, he leapt up the front steps, strode across the covered porch and lifted the latch as he nudged the heavy-timbered door open with a shoulder. Once inside, he kicked the portal closed behind him and, withdrawing the arm he had clasped beneath her knees, allowed Shemaine to regain her footing. Leaving her, he pulled a towel from a rack near the door and proceeded to dry his face and arms and blot some of the moisture from his clothing as he moved about the spacious cabin, lighting several lanterns to chase away the gloominess of the interior.
“I’ll open the shutters after the winds die down,” Gage stated, drawing Shemaine’s attention to the small-paned windows spaced at neat intervals in the cypress-paneled walls. Except for those that were protected beneath the overhanging roofs of the front and back porches, the rest of the windows were darkened by wooden shutters that had been closed and bolted from outside. “I put in the glass only a couple of months before my wife died, and it was no cheap or easy task. When there’s a storm brewing, I usually close the shutters so there’s no chance of the windows getting broken, mainly to save myself the trouble of repairing them.”
Shemaine was impressed by the charm and comfort of the interior. “It’s nice and cozy in here with the lanterns.”
A loft had been built beneath the steeply pitched ceiling, partially forming a second story which, from a gracefully turned balustrade, overlooked the great room. Lending support to the loft on the main floor was an interior wall set back some distance from the end of the overhang. On the left, a massive stone fireplace had been built to provide a cooking area in the kitchen. Immediately to the right of the hearth and directly opposite the front entrance was a door that led to a wide corridor, at the end of which was a window and a back portal. On the far right of the interior wall, a second door stood ajar, revealing a neatly arranged storeroom. Adjoining that same wall was another partition which ran from front to back, behind which a spacious bedroom could be seen through an open doorway to the right of the entrance.
It was apparent that a gifted artisan had crafted the furnishings, for they were as fine and elegant as any piece her own parents owned in England. Of most worthy note was a tall secretary standing against the parlor wall near the bedroom door. The piece had been painstakingly adorned with carved shells, gracefully curving drawers and burl-grained doors. A leather-tooled desktop had been folded down to display tiny compartments, drawers, and narrow cubicles where a collection of bric-a-brac had been nestled. Majestically crowning the piece were a pair of spiraled finials on each end and, in the middle, an elaborately carved shell, no doubt the handiwork of her new master.
Shemaine turned slowly about in amazement. The costly appointments were a luxury she had not expected to see in the colonies. In fact, they were so much in evidence, she could not take them all in with a mere glance. A settee and two large, wing-backed chairs, upholstered in a Scottish plaid, were part of a small grouping that had been arranged within close proximity of the secretary.
In the kitchen, a wooden sink, a worktable and a tall cupboard lined the interior wall to the left of the hearth. A butter churn, crocks and other equipment abounded in this area, where, only a few steps away, a pair of high-backed wooden benches faced each other across a trestle table. A child’s high chair had been placed conveniently at one end. A short distance away, a rocking chair stood near the fireplace where one could sit and enjoy its warmth or view the back corridor.
The stone hearth had an opening almost as large as Shemaine was tall. It was equipped with hooks and racks where iron kettles and skillets could be heated above the main fire. An iron oven stood to one side and could be readily moved about within the fireplace to make it more accessible to the heat. The massive chimney was solidly constructed, no doubt lending substantial support to the structure as it rose upward through the loft and the peaked roof.
“Did you build this cabin and all these things yourself?” Shemaine asked, turning to Gage in amazement.
“Aye, I built a small cabin for myself soon after arriving, but when I married Victoria, I enlarged it and started making the furniture for her.” His eyes flicked about the room, touching familiar nooks and crannies. “She was the one who made the place into a home for us. She was as clever with a needle as any woman I’ve ever known.” He indicated the settee and chairs. “She had me trade a table to a Scotsman for the plaid. After I attached the legs and arms to the frames, she stuffed the three pieces with horsehair, covered them with s
ailcloth and then the woolen.”
“You must miss her terribly,” Shemaine surmised, detecting a strange texture in his voice.
“Aye, I think of her a lot when I’m not busy,” he acknowledged, returning the towel to a peg near the front door. “But you’ll hear rumors to the contrary when you venture into the village. Alma Pettycomb and other scandalmongers in the hamlet doubt that I can love anything but the ship I’m building.”
“I don’t think I’ll be lending too much credence to what Mrs. Pettycomb has to say about anyone or anything,” Shemaine stated with firm conviction. She had already settled her mind on the fact that the woman was hardly worth knowing, much less listening to. “If you made all these furnishings for your wife, then I, for one, can believe you loved her very much.”
A quickly vanishing smile was Gage’s only response before he moved to the hearth. There he stirred up the glowing embers and laid several pieces of wood on top.
As he fed the fire, Shemaine realized she had seen no one else in the cabin. “But where is your son?”
Gage swung a large kettle of water over the newly kindled flames and, turning to face her, casually motioned in a westerly direction. “I left him with a neighbor who lives up the river a piece. If not for the fact that Hannah Fields has a husband and seven children of her own to care for, I might have hired her on to cook and clean for us. But of course, I wanted someone who could instruct my son beyond the limits of her ability. Hannah is a good woman and a hard worker, and Andrew is always delighted when he has a chance to play with Malcolm and Duncan, her youngest two. I’m sure once you meet her, you’ll find her very kindly and not given to gossip and the like.”
“ ‘Twould be nice to find someone willing to teach me the duties of a servant, but I don’t suppose Mrs. Fields has much time to do that with such a large family,” Shemaine surmised with a tentative smile.
Although Gage tried to dismiss the girl’s shortcomings as something that could be easily dealt with, it was a simple fact that a man who worked hard all day could get mighty hungry for palatable food even in the presence of such a comely woman. “As soon as the storm lets up, I’ll be leaving to fetch Andrew. While I’m at the Fields’s cottage, I’ll ask Hannah if she can come over one day soon and show you a few things about cooking. She’ll probably be more than willing to visit with you. Except for her younger two, her other sons are older and have to help their father. She has two daughters, between ten and two and a pair of years more, but they’re more concerned with neighbor boys than with matters that interest women. They prefer to stay at home just in case any should happen by.” A grin briefly flicked across Gage’s lips as he added, “Their father keeps as close a watch, and by the size of his gun, I can understand how he might discourage the lads from visiting unannounced.”
Shemaine smiled. “Is it permissible to have a look around the cabin while you’re gone?”
“Aye, but you’d better bathe and dress first so you can be assured of some privacy. There are clothes in a trunk in the bedroom that can be altered to fit you. I’ll get them now.”
Curious to see what he would have her don, Shemaine followed him into the bedroom and found it spacious and comfortably furnished with a huge four-poster, a chest of drawers, an armoire and other handsome pieces. There was even a large bear rug on the floor beside the bed.
Part of the original room had been partitioned off to make a small bedroom for his son. No doors existed between the two rooms, only a wide passageway where a piece of sailcloth had been hung, but apparently it was rarely used, for the folds, which had settled into it over time, had become quite distinct, almost crisp. The child’s room held a rocking chair, a chest-on-chest, an infant’s crib and a trundle bed, all handsomely made pieces and all, no doubt, the handiwork of her master.
Gage lifted the curved lid of a trunk that stood at the foot of the four-poster in the larger room and swept a hand to indicate the contents. “These things belonged to my wife. She was tall and slender, and her feet and hands were rather long and thin, so you’ll probably need to shorten the gowns and stuff a bit of cloth in the toes of the shoes until I can afford to buy you another pair, but you’re welcome to use whatever you’d like.”
Shemaine was overwhelmed by his generosity. “You’d have me wear your wife’s clothes?”
Gage had no need to imagine the depth of her astonishment. It was blatant on her smudged face. His answer was rather laconic. “Better these clothes than that rag you’re wearing.”
A deep flush of color crept into Shemaine’s cheeks as she dragged the torn sleeve over her shoulder again. “Your charity astounds me, Mr. Thornton. I would think you’d be reluctant to let a stranger wear something that once belonged to your wife.”
“The clothes will serve your needs better than my memories,” he answered curtly. “And right now I can ill afford to buy a bolt of cloth for you to make yourself a gown. I paid more for you than I had intended, and I must recoup my funds ere I can buy supplies for the ship.”
“I’m not ungrateful, Mr. Thornton,” Shemaine hastened to assure him. “I really hadn’t expected to be given anything but a bit of food and perhaps a place to rest.”
“The boy and I sleep here in these two rooms,” Gage announced bluntly. “You may have the loft for your bedroom.” Bidding her to follow, he led the way back across the great room and, passing through the doorway nearest the kitchen, entered the corridor that led to the back porch. On the wall to the right a large drafting desk resided beneath a tall, shallow cupboard. On the left, a stairway provided access to the loft.
Gage raised a hand toward the stairs, inviting her to precede him. He couldn’t help but watch the way she moved as she climbed, for she had a graceful elegance about her that even the tattered garments could not disguise. Upon reaching the upper level, he stood aside as she strolled about the room. Silently she paused beside the narrow bed, glanced around at the other sparse furnishings and the small fireplace opening in the chimney, and then moved to the rail to look down upon the parlor below. Returning to the cot, she brushed her fingers thoughtfully across the top of a rough-hewn table that stood beside it.
“It’s rather cramped up here, I know,” Gage conceded after a moment, “but it’s the best I can offer in the way of a separate room for you. Later this afternoon I’ll stretch a rope above the balustrade and hang some sailing sheets across it for privacy.”
“ ‘Tis far more than I ever expected, Mr. Thornton.” Moved by his kindness, Shemaine tried to curb any outward display of emotion, but against her will it crept into her voice as she continued. “Compared to the cell I shared with the other women on the ship, it seems like a grand, lavish chamber. ‘Tis comforting to know that I’ll be able to enjoy privacy in something better than the cable tier.”
Amazed by her trembling voice, Gage looked at her closely and noticed the teary brightness in the translucent eyes, but she stepped away in awkward silence. Not wishing to embarrass her, he went to the stairs and descended to the lower corridor.
“This is where I started making furniture,” he explained after she had joined him there. “The first piece was a curio cabinet for a wealthy matron who assured me that if she liked the piece well enough when I finished it, she’d buy it from me. Since then, I’ve made quite a few items of furniture for her. Presently I’m working on this breakfront which she ordered a few weeks ago.”
He swept a hand toward the tilted top of the drafting desk, where several drawings of the piece in various stages of construction lay strewn. His talent for creating furniture apparently extended to his drawings as well, for they were as fine and precisely detailed as any finished piece of furniture would be.
Shemaine’s eyes roamed upward to the shallow cabinet that hung on the wall above the desk. A diverse collection of ledgers, rolled parchments and sketches, perhaps similar to those which lay on the desktop, were stashed into the small drawers, cubbyholes and shelves of the piece, filling it near to overflowing and attesting
to the extent of work her master did at the small desk.
“With all of the orders I’ve been getting the last few years, I’ve had to move the cabinet shop outside. It’s now located in a large shed at the far end of the path that leads from the back porch. Two of my men have worked for me almost from the very beginning. They were complete novices when they first started, unable to tell the difference between a plank of maple and one of oak. Even using a saw correctly seemed beyond their comprehension. I dared not trust them with major tasks. But throughout the years both Ramsey Tate and Sly Tucker have progressed far beyond my expectations. I now consider them two of the finest cabinetmakers in the area. Recently I began schooling two new apprentices, a young German and another fellow from Yorktown, but they haven’t advanced much further than the saw yet. Normally, at this time of day, I’m working in the shop with them or else helping the old shipwright and his son, but I gave the lot of them the afternoon off so they could tend to some pressing matters of their own while I went to see what the London Pride had brought into Newportes Newes.”
“ ‘Tis plain to see you’re a very talented man, Mr. Thornton,” Shemaine said with sincerity. “I know naught of building ships or the like, but I can recognize a handsome piece of furniture when I see it. If what you have here in this cabin is a fair indication of the quality of furniture you make for people in this area, then your customers will surely miss your craft if you decide to give up the trade entirely.”
A brief twitch at the corner of his lips substituted for a smile before Gage raised his head to listen. The gentle pitter-patter of raindrops on the roof indicated the easing of the turbulent downpour and buffeting winds. “It sounds like the storm has slackened. I’d better leave while I can. It might start up again.”
Petals on the River Page 8