Heather moved a chair closer to Donald, and he entered the kitchen. “Here, sit down.”
Donald sank into the chair and turned his face toward his mother. “It really hurts, Ma.”
When Mark and the younger boys rushed into the room, Matthew reached out and caught Mark as he passed him. Jean and Mary stood in the doorway.
Maggie shifted her son’s face gently to better inspect the damage. “How is Braden?” She used a damp cloth to clean the wounds.
Donald winced and groaned. “He got some cuts and scrapes, too.”
Adam’s brows furrowed. “What provoked this?”
“May we talk about it later, Pa?”
Mark’s brown eyes were wide with excitement. “Does Braden look as awful as you do?”
Matthew shook his head at Mark, then rested his hand on Adam’s shoulder. “I think ’tis time for the Stewarts to ready for our return home.” It was evident that the Duncan family needed some privacy.
They gathered their things and took them outside while the children made their farewells. Adam and Matthew loaded the wagon for their departure. Nearby, Donald stood deep in conversation with Mary.
Heather and the boys positioned themselves on the seats and shared final parting words. Maggie squeezed Heather’s hand. “I withdraw my earlier comment on the relative ease of raising sons. They are all a worry.”
“I know, Maggie. Each child has a fierce grip on our hearts.”
Mark’s voice rose above the rest. “Well, I think it is fine that Donnie and Braden gave those stinkin’ Tories a beating.”
All eyes turned to Mark before shifting to Donald.
Adam approached his oldest son, who pulled his attention from Mary reluctantly. “So, is that what this is all about?”
“We argued over whether Virginia should send the militia up to take on the redcoats. We were fighting with Everett Hastings and some of his friends.”
Matthew’s heart sank. The fight was getting closer than he wanted to admit when young men in Alexandria were getting into fisticuffs. Stephens’ scheme had to be given serious thought ... and soon.
As they reached the outskirts of Alexandria, his conversation with Lucas Stephens continued to weigh heavily on Matthew’s mind. Stephens said that he would be in contact with him for his answer. His answer. And what should that be, Lord? Are You calling me to serve by being part of this scheme?
His goal had been to remain neutral, but how could he if England continued to impose their repressive restrictions and kill his countrymen? He certainly could not fight for the Crown against his fellow colonists.
Heather leaned her head on his shoulder and pointed to the sky. “I love to watch the way the sunlight shines through the clouds onto the hilly landscape. The visit with the Duncans was precisely the tonic I needed.” She slipped her arm through his as he held the reins steady. “I’m grateful. You probably had your mind on the farm the whole time.”
Her comment lightened his heart. She delighted him in so many ways, and her buoyed spirits encouraged him. “Not the entire time.” He reached over with his free hand and patted hers. “’Twas a pleasant visit, just what we needed.”
They headed west on the well-traveled road that stretched on for miles, away from the friendships and diversions of Alexandria. The ever-changing landscape, with its homes and outbuildings scattered amongst the rolling hills, was beautiful in the late afternoon. As they traveled farther from the city, they passed through wooded areas not yet cleared. The leaves on the trees were in full leaf with the new green that came early every spring. Dark clouds moved in from the west. In a few short hours, they would reach home. Will we escape this other approaching storm or be drawn into it? Surely our safe haven will withstand any coming tempest.
In the back of the wagon, Mary, deep into a book she had borrowed from Jean, was oblivious to everything around her, and Mark and Douglas had both fallen asleep.
Heather was unusually quiet. Was she upset by Donald’s conflict or concerned about the child she was carrying?
“Are you ill, Heather?”
“Nay. I am well.”
“You had such a distant look about you.”
“Did I now?” She grinned. “You caught me daydreaming, remembering ... remembering that first day five years ago with you on this very route.”
“That is a day I shall never forget.” He chuckled. “I wonder which one of us was the most terrified.”
“Terrified? You?” She poked him in his side. “What a confession. I had no idea. You were so sure of yourself, so serious and determined.”
“Determined to be sure. I needed someone at home caring for the children. Any anxiety I may have harbored about our marriage was worth the risk I believed had to be taken.” He brought her hand to his lips. “The most pleasing bargain I ever made.”
“I was a bit suspicious of a man who would marry a complete stranger when there had to be plenty of eligible ladies looking for a husband, particularly in Alexandria.”
“How might I have courted a lady in Alexandria while stealing time from the children and trying to work the farm twenty miles west? I had no desire to go courting anyway.” He put his arm around her shoulder and drew her to him. “And you, my sweet ... Your charm and beauty as you stood there shaking on the quay, broke any resistance I might have had to taking a wife.”
Their laughter woke Mark and roused Mary from her reading. Douglas slept on.
Mary turned in her seat to face them. “What is so amusing?”
Matthew grinned. “We have been reminiscing about the day we met and married.”
Mary put down her book and leaned forward. “A day I shan’t forget, Papa. I was angry when you brought that ‘strange woman’ to the Duncans’ house and said you planned to marry her.”
He turned to Mary and winked. “I remember your response very distinctly.”
Mary touched the back of Heather’s arm. “Forgive me, but I never understood why Papa favored you, for you looked ... well ... so poorly.”
Heather laughed. “Very diplomatically stated.”
“Yet you forgave me for being so dreadful to you for months.”
“You were a challenge, lass,” Heather said, “but I understood your fears.”
After a moment, Mary returned to her book.
Matthew reached for Heather’s hand and brought it back to his lips. “I am glad the trip to town and time with Maggie and the clan brought the smile to your lips. You called it a tonic. I hope it continues when we return home.”
“Please forgive me, Matthew.” She kept her voice low. “I know my moods and nerves have ... well, I keep thinking about our John and the unborn bairn we lost.”
“There is nothing to forgive. Give yourself time to heal. All will be well again.”
He smiled at her and caressed her cheek. She had a gift from God growing and resting close to her heart. This child would never take the baby’s or John’s place, but this new life was a reminder that God truly did restore the years the locusts hath eaten.
“Pa,” Mark said, “what do you think the people will do in response to the battles near Boston?”
“We do not know all the details yet, son. We shall have to wait and assess what transpires in the next days and weeks. The recent uprisings in Massachusetts may very well change all our lives.”
Mark said, “Donald believes we shall go to war with England. If we do, he and Braden Campbell plan to join the militia.”
“That is troubling. I’m sure the idea of joining the fight sounds very heroic to you boys.” Matthew turned to look into his son’s eyes. “However, you must consider how many losses would result were we to go to war.”
“You said Virginia and the other colonies cannot continue to obey England’s demands.”
Matthew focused on the road again. “’Tis true, we may soon be at the point of war. But anyone who thinks it will be easy or clean without families and friends being torn apart by death, injury, or politics had better think ag
ain. England has a trained, experienced, and well-equipped army and navy. We do not. War is not a boy’s game, Mark. The casualties would be enormous. In any event, I doubt we will need to send young men of Donald’s and Braden’s age off to battle.”
Mary’s voice trembled. “As British subjects, how could Virginia go to war with them?”
“A good many Virginians, as well as people from the other colonies, believe we should not remain under British rule. They are tired of being subjected to the heavy taxes and the harsher laws and restrictions Parliament imposes on us without any real representation in Parliament. Boycotting British goods has been about the only way we have made our point of view known.” He removed his hat and handed it to Heather in an effort to cool his forehead.
“The King views us as rebellious children, and I fear the point may have been reached where neither camp will back down.”
Heather clutched his damp hat. “Surely war can be avoided. Too many people would suffer great loss if war broke out. My father never let us forget the Jacobite Rising of ’45 and the last stand at Culloden Moor in the spring of ’46. Both had lasting consequences for all Scots. I lost a grandfather and four uncles.”
The look of terror on Heather’s face was a punch in the gut. “No need to be anxious, my dear. Judging from the way you have crushed the side of my hat, our discussion has alarmed you.”
“I’m sorry.” She smoothed the stiff fabric out. “All this talk of war is troubling. I’m used to Adam being stirred up by political discussions, but ’tis unusual to find you so concerned.”
“Events are unfolding quickly. Our entire world may soon be turned upside down. The time is approaching when each one of us will have to determine where our loyalties lie.” And I will have to determine what role I will play. I am trusting You, Lord, to make that very clear and to equip me to answer Your call.
Heather slipped her free hand into the crook of his arm again. “Perhaps we should speak of this later so as not to distress the children.”
“We cannot insulate the young ones from the events going on around them. They are going to hear it discussed, and they need to understand. Today’s incident with Donald and the Campbell boy proves that.”
“But all this talk of war makes it seem so much more inevitable. I dread how all our lives would change. The consequences would be heartbreaking.”
He patted her hand. “Whatever transpires between Britain and the Colonies is beyond our control. We shall pray that God would give the delegates wisdom and direction.”
Heather gazed up at Matthew. His dark hair was beginning to grey at the temples. Was he more concerned than he was admitting? She must calm her own fears. ’Twas not doing her or the babe any good to fret over what she could not control.
“Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.”
Thanksgiving. Aye, she had so much to be thankful for—a husband, two children, and another on the way. She had survived that miserable Atlantic crossing and had her indenture purchased by a godly man whom she loved dearly. She survived the birth of two children and the death of John and another babe. They had a farm, a home, and the ordinary. Whenever she felt anxious about what was happening around her, she must remember that in thankfulness she would find peace. She would do all she could to care for her family, keep the ordinary running smoothly, and help Matthew oversee the farm. These were all blessings from God, and she would do her part to protect them. The Lord and Matthew had seen her through dark days. Together they could face all that would come.
She glanced behind her and saw that the children were listening. She leaned close to Matthew and whispered, “We need to discuss the letter.”
“I know. We will ... later.”
CHAPTER 3
It was dusk by the time they approached Stewart’s Green. The filtered light through the leaves on the trees cast muted shadows, and the harmony of crickets and bullfrogs reminded Heather how different the sounds of country evenings were from those in the villages. The light shining through the window in the Gordons’ smaller cottage situated to the left of the ordinary drew her attention.
“It’s been a long day,” Matthew said. “I will check in with Thomas once we have unloaded the wagon and taken care of the horse.”
Years earlier, when they were the sole residents of their farm, a day spent away from the property meant they would find it in the same state when they returned as when they had left it. Now, with the Gordon family living there as tenant farmers and the ordinary with the possibility of guests, returning home often came with surprises.
Heather reached for his arm. “There is a light burning. I want to see how Polly is feeling before we settle in for the night.” She turned to the children “Mary, please take Douglas inside and ready him for bed while I go to the Gordons’. We will unload the wagon later.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You two are angels.”
“Hungry angels,” Mark said.
“Aye. Get yourselves a bite to eat.”
When the wagon came to a halt, Matthew helped Heather and Mary down, then lifted Douglas into Mary’s waiting arms. Mark carried a bag and headed inside the Green with their father. From the back of the wagon, Heather retrieved a basket and made her way toward the cottage.
The door opened before she reached the porch.
Polly’s right hand rested on the back of her hip. “I heard the wagon.” Her ample belly and the telltale dark shadows under her eyes suggested exhaustion. She stepped aside. “How are the Duncans?”
“They are fine. We had a bonny time. They send their regards and”—she lifted the basket—“some treats for you.”
“How kind of them.”
“Do sit down. I hope ’tis not too late to stop in for a quick visit.”
“Nay, please come in.”
Heather set the basket on the table and sat across from her friend. “I believe there is something in here for the baby. How are you feeling?”
“Tired, and ... so different from when I carried Todd and Philip. Being older, I s’pose.”
She took Polly’s hand in hers. “I’m praying for you and the babe. You need to take things a bit easier. I’m here, so please rest tomorrow. I can see to the meals and cleaning. Many thanks for helping with the Green while we were gone. Tell me, have we any guests?”
“Yesterday, two gentlemen on horseback and a family from west of Leesburg stayed the night, and midday today, your friend from Fredericksburg, Mr. Macmillan, arrived.”
“Oh, ’twill be so good to see Andrew again. Anything else I need to know?”
“It has been quiet here. Alexandria must have been exciting. I s’pose a lot of goings on about politics. ’Tis all most folks want to talk about these days.”
“Aye, and the talk is growing increasingly heated. Where are Philip and Todd?”
“I think they are in the barn, caring for the animals.”
“There are sweets in the basket for them. I shall stop by in the morning. Good night.”
She left and walked toward the Green, only stopping at the sound of voices nearby.
Even with his lantern, Philip’s amber hair appeared darker at night. “We saw you coming from our place. Do you think Ma is in a bad way, Mrs. Stewart?” The fifteen-year-old’s expression suggested he feared for his mother.
Both boys were lanky, but Philip stood a head taller than his thirteen-year-old brother Todd.
“She is tired. Come and get me if she needs help ... for any reason.”
“Do you think the baby will come soon?” Philip asked. “Ma is mighty big and groans a lot like Bessie did before she delivered her calf.”
Todd winced. Though he was the younger brother, he had already matured beyond Philip and would probably far surpass him soon enough. “Ma won’t like you comparing her to a cow.”
“She may be closer to having the babe than we thought,” Heather said, “so do what you can to help her. And plan on eating at the Green tomorrow. No need for her to prepare meals.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Philip said.
When she opened the door to the main house, the soft lights in the large center hall welcomed her. Men’s voices came from the parlor, and muffled sounds of the children’s conversation drifted down from upstairs.
She glanced up the stairs and then headed to the parlor.
Matthew poured two tankards of cider and handed one to Andrew, who was leaning against the mantel over the hearth. Andrew’s gaunt face and the dark circles under his eyes were reminders of his loss.
“Heather will be pleased you came for a visit,” Matthew said. “She has been concerned about you and James since Rebecca’s death.”
Andrew rubbed the rim of the pewter tankard. A frown formed before he looked up. “We are doing as well as can be expected.”
Heather entered the parlor, made her way across the room, and clasped Andrew’s hands in hers. “What a joy to have you here again. It has been too long. Will you be with us for a while?”
“Tomorrow I will catch the ferry to western Frederick County, Maryland. I have a meeting with some chaps at Hungerford’s Tavern.”
“Hungerford’s?” Matthew motioned for Andrew to sit. “That place has a reputation for being a hotbed of Patriot activity.” Wherever he turned, it seemed that people were taking sides. His hopes of remaining neutral were beginning to seem farcical. “Are you involved with the independence movement?”
“You might say so, ever since the Hungerford Resolves and Fairfax Resolves last year.” Andrew dropped a copy of the Gazette on the table. “Look, another Continental Congress will meet in Philadelphia next month, and Lord Dunmore is challenging the proceedings.”
A Heart for Freedom: He longs for freedom, but won’t risk the lives of those he loves. Page 3