Matthew put down his tankard. “That is no surprise. He is in a precarious position. Patrick Henry’s speech last month at the House of Burgesses only added to the discontentment. Each day it seems we move closer to a conflict.”
Heather removed her shawl, folded it, and placed it on her lap. “Andrew, we were so saddened to get your letter telling us of Rebecca’s death. We had so hoped she would recover. You and James have been in our prayers. How is he?”
“James is well and back in Williamsburg.”
“Studying the law at the College of William & Mary?” Matthew asked.
“Yes, though his interests seem to skew.” He focused on Heather again. “Your letter and generous sentiments meant a great deal to both of us.”
“We were very fond of Rebecca, and she will be missed by all who knew her. You have had a rough time. ’Tis good to be around friends and keep busy. We’re so glad you came to visit.”
“I would not come west without a stop at Stewart’s Green. My increased involvement in this squabble between Britain and America has given me a new purpose,” Andrew said, “something to pour my energy into now that Rebecca is gone.”
Voices came from the top of the stairs.
Heather arose. “I must go to the children. I will look forward to a longer visit in the morning, Andrew.”
Upstairs in the boys’ room, Heather sat in the chair and scooped Douglas into her arms and nuzzled her four-year-old’s sandy blond curls. “I see Mary helped you change into your night clothes. Ready for bed, young man, or do you want a bite to eat first?”
Mary pulled back the coverlets on the boys’ beds. “I brought up some biscuits and milk. Is that Mr. Macmillan I hear in the parlor with Papa?”
“Aye.”
“Did he mention James? Is he well? I mean, the loss of a mother can be so painful.”
She spotted the blush on the girl’s cheeks. “He said James is well and at school. ’Tis thoughtful of you to be concerned about him.”
“Concerned?” Mark laughed. “She is smitten.”
“What you are talking about?” Mary’s narrowed eyes looked as though they would bore a hole through her brother’s head.
“While we were at the Duncans’, you told Jean you hoped James Macmillan would visit and that you welcomed his attention.”
Mary picked up a pillow, threw it at Mark, and stormed out of the room.
Heather had assessed Mary correctly. This budding young woman and her youthful annoyance with boys had changed into something entirely different.
CHAPTER 4
The next morning, Matthew and Andrew took seats at the window table in the public room. There was plenty to be done, and he would get to it later, but Andrew’s visits were rare, and it was good to have some time with him. Losing a wife was a lonely business. Mary must’ve finished her chores early because she slipped in and sat in the window seat with a book.
Heather joined them carrying a tray of food.
Andrew looked around the room. “This is the most pleasant ordinary I have visited. Others are dark, dreary places, but this is a warm and inviting room, filled with light.”
“’Tis all Heather’s doing.” Matthew placed his hand on hers. “She wanted Stewart’s Green to look like a residence, not a business establishment.”
“’Tis our home.” Heather set a plate of eggs and another of biscuits and bacon on the table. “We lived beside and above the family’s dry goods shop in Scotland, separate from our business. Here, the family and business areas are merged. Since Stewart’s Green caters more to travelers than those seeking entertainment, we chose to make the common areas a parlor and dining room.” She backed toward the door. “I will be back with the coffee.”
Andrew slid the Gazette he had been reading the evening before across the table. “The freeholders and citizens of Williamsburg unanimously elected Peyton Randolph to represent them at the Convention next month.”
Matthew glanced at the printed page. “He is a good man and doesn’t hesitate in supporting the colonies, not at all like his brother John. The Convention will be a lively place with everything that has taken place this past month. You probably have associates who will be in attendance.” Matthew considered all of Andrew’s business colleagues. Andrew might have influential contacts of his own.
“Yes,” Andrew said. “George Washington grew up on the other side of the Rappahannock River, just a few miles from my home. He crossed the river to where we both were educated by the rector of St. George’s Parish.”
“Washington, hmm. He has quite the reputation for leadership. I have no doubt he will have a significant role if an army is formed. Do you still have contact with him?”
“Occasionally. He sold Ferry Farm last year but comes to Fredericksburg to see his mother and sister. My guess is that he will be put in charge of organizing a unified military force.”
Heather returned with coffee and another plate of bacon, which she passed to Andrew. “Will James be spending the summer in Williamsburg or Fredericksburg?”
“He will be coming home in May when his classes end and plans on returning to Williamsburg in July.”
“Why so soon?” Heather sat and passed a dish of spoonbread.
“A number of his friends believe they can be of some use in the Capitol while Randolph and the others prepare for the convention in Pennsylvania.”
Matthew put down the news journal. “Not a bad idea. Students are in a better position to keep their eyes and ears open to the machinations of Governor Lord Dunmore without as much scrutiny as others would receive. It appears the Governor had the Royal Marines take a dozen or so barrels of gunpowder from the magazine there last week.”
“He fears an insurrection,” Andrew said. “James and I plan to visit friends in Leesburg, Fairfax, and Alexandria while he is home, so perhaps we can stop here for a visit.”
Matthew studied Andrew. He was tempted to take him aside and seek his wisdom regarding his choosing to get involved in Stephens’ scheme. But what he was considering had risks, and he could best protect his family and friends by remaining silent. He glanced to where Mary sat in the window seat. The sun shone brightly through the window onto the open book on her lap. Matthew smiled at his daughter, who seemed quite attentive, but not to reading.
While Thomas and the boys transplanted tobacco, Matthew worked the rest of the day in the cornfield. He needed solitude and physical activity and time to weigh the wisdom, benefits, and risks of agreeing to Stephens’ proposition.
The scheme Jones and Stephens had cooked up had eaten away at him. And Stephens’ words prodded him like a battering ram. “If our cause is just, and many believe it is, then God Almighty will equip us to answer His call.”
“Many will take up arms,” Stephens had said. “Will you serve on the side of liberty or will you serve the Crown’s oppression?”
Liberty was a just cause, and he genuinely believed that God would equip those He called. But was Stephens’ scheme God’s call? The men’s request had come right on the heels of the letter from his late wife’s parents suggesting a visit with their grandchildren in Philadelphia. The timing could be a sign. Was that a fleece the Lord had provided? If so, then there would need to be conditions.
On the one hand, it wasn’t as if he were joining the militia. This assignment would be limited. And it seemed, with his established relationships in Philadelphia, he was uniquely positioned for this service.
Is this what You would have me do, Lord?
Because of the smallpox epidemic, his late wife’s parents were leaving Boston to spend the summer in Philadelphia with family. They had written to him requesting that the children join them there. That would have pleased Elizabeth.
The relationship with Henry and his family could be an open door.
And the children’s visit would provide him the cover he needed. Coincidental? Or the hand of Providence?
He did not believe in coincidences.
On the other hand, he had r
esponsibilities, and he did not want to be away from his family. And there were risks. Were he captured or killed, what would become of his family? Might his actions put them all at risk?
But what were the chances he would be found out?
Maybe slim, but if he were caught, his actions could put his family in jeopardy.
The anticipation of such a venture had cost him sleep, but it had drawn him closer to God, because he knew if he were to aid the Patriot cause, he would have to put his complete trust and dependence on the Lord. His appreciation for all the blessings he’d been given had grown immeasurably.
Matthew reached for the jug of water and took a drink. He looked around at his farm, its beautiful rolling hills, lush meadows, and a stream teeming with fish. God had been very good to him. The years with Elizabeth had been a treasure, and though the Lord had taken her home, He had brought Heather into his life, an unexpected gift. Soon he would have four children. Yes, he had been blessed indeed.
With all his heart, he wanted to stay here and enjoy those blessings. To work his land, raise his children, and hold his beautiful wife every night. He wanted the world to stay away and his life to remain just like this, forever.
But the world wouldn’t stay away, and the dreams he had for the future were shifting. His countrymen, his friends, were preparing to fight the King. A battle he feared was inevitable. Yes, he believed the Colonists were in the right. The trouble was, he didn’t believe they could win. Not on their own. To take on the greatest army and navy in the world would be complete madness. Or unconditional and sustained faith that God would bless their endeavors.
Were he to accept Stephens’ challenge, he’d have to keep it to himself. As much as he hated the deception, he would not allow his family or friends to know anything about what he was doing. It was the only way he could protect them. Stephens would have to ensure that and answer Matthew’s other questions satisfactorily. Those boundaries must be assured.
Did he truly want to remain safe at Stewart’s Green while others fought to protect all that was dear to him? Or was he willing to do his part to help? Could he live with himself if he ignored this call?
Those questions still plagued him as he picked up the hoe and returned to work.
Not my will, Lord, Your will. If you lead me to accept the assignment, I trust You will provide what I need.
Heather had no time alone with Matthew until they retired that evening. She studied him as he readied for bed. He had that look again. She’d seen it a lot lately, that faraway look as if he were lost in thought. She pulled back the coverlet. “Andrew has been through so much with Rebecca’s illness and death. ’Tis good he is keeping busy, particularly with James’ absence. What is your impression of his visit?”
“Andrew’s visits are always good. Time is a great healer, and activity and purpose help.”
“Matthew, what should we do about the letter from Boston? We need to answer the Moores.”
He set the oil lantern on the candle stand beside the bed and reclined beside her. “Their request is reasonable. The children have spent so little time with their grandparents since Elizabeth’s death.”
“You don’t worry about the children being so far away for months?”
“They lived in Alexandria for almost a year following Elizabeth’s death, so I’m familiar with the pain of separation. But Mary and Mark thrived with that arrangement, and I genuinely think they would benefit from a visit with their grandparents also.”
“I know, but Philadelphia? Is it safe from the smallpox epidemic?”
“Safer than Boston was, or the Moores wouldn’t have chosen to go there.” Matthew patted her on the hand, his voice gentle. “John and Louisa would not ask the children to spend the summer there if they feared for their safety. While I’m reluctant to have them go, I prefer the children go to Philadelphia rather than Boston, three hundred miles further north, especially considering the recent troubles there.”
“What do you think the children will say?”
“I suspect Mary will be thrilled to have the chance to experience Philadelphia. Mark may not even remember his grandparents. I will write to the Moores and tell them I will bring the children in June.”
“But what about all this talk of rebellion?”
“That is another reason I prefer they visit them now. We do not know what the future might bring.” He put his hand out to her. “Don’t worry.”
She pulled up the coverlet, still studying him as he put out the light and motioned her to cradle in his arm.
“You seem distracted lately. Is it the letter, the farm, the Green, or something else weighing heavily on your mind?”
“Do not fret, my dear.” He pulled her close and held her in the shelter of his arms. “Nothing is weighing heavily on my mind.”
She drifted off to sleep remembering the Scripture, “Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.”
CHAPTER 5
The warm May sun soothed Heather as she stood and relieved her stiff back. She removed her gloves and fanned herself with her straw hat. Weeding and tilling the kitchen garden had energized her initially, but now she needed a rest. The three weeks since their trip to Alexandria had gone by quickly. She must look in on Polly to see if she needed any help.
Tears filled Heather’s eyes, and sorrow, her heart. No surprise Polly had delivered early since she had carried two babes. Seeing Polly’s distress, Thomas had gone for Dr. Edwards. Laura, born first, appeared healthy, but wee Frank lived only an hour. Heather grieved for Polly. Nothing compared to the pain of losing a child.
Leaning the potato hook against the side of the whitewashed picket fence, she glanced at Douglas, who was playing with blocks on the back porch.
Mary came out the back door. “Two riders are approaching. We may have boarders. I will find the boys to take care of the horses.”
Heather wiped her hands on her apron and tucked the loose strands of hair into her cap before placing the straw hat back on her head. She headed to the front of the Green. The travelers slowed their horses as they approached.
Philip attended to the gentlemen’s horses while she escorted them inside.
Heather stood in the upstairs hallway and directed Mr. Jones, who appeared to be about fifty, and Mr. Stephens, possibly a few years younger, to available rooms. These were well-dressed guests and new to the Green. “There is a Gazette in the common room,” she said. “Supper is served at seven. In the meantime, may I offer you cider, water, or coffee?”
“Appreciate it, ma’am.” Mr. Stephens, the taller of the two, walked to the end of the hallway and peered out a window that looked down on the barn. “Is Matthew Stewart around?”
“He should be back from the fields later. Do you need him before then?”
“It can wait.” Mr. Jones, the older and shorter man, looked around. “We will take that coffee you offered in the common room. Do you have any other guests?”
“Nay, none others yet.”
Polly was working at the table when Heather got to the kitchen. “We have two gentlemen for supper. For now, all they want is coffee.” Heather bent over the basket resting by the table and smiled at the sleeping newborn. “How is wee Laura this afternoon?”
“She is an easy one so far, very different from the boys. Laura has charmed us all. ’Twill be the same, no doubt, with your family when we welcome your little one this fall.”
Heather sighed as she prepared a tray for their guests. “When you finish, please get off your feet. It has not been long since the birth.”
Laden with the tray of coffee and cakes, Heather returned to the common room. The men halted their conversation and smiled as she served them. Odd. Male guests typically ignored her and talked when being served. These gentlemen were not only well dressed but had fine manners.
Back in the kitchen, she started working on supper.
A few minutes later,
Thomas came in, wiping his face with a rag. “Is Polly here?”
“She went to the cottage with Laura to rest. I’m getting this tray ready for you to take a meal to her. Shall I prepare a plate for you, or do you want to take supper here with the boys?”
“I will eat with her. No wonder she is tired. She is up all hours of the night with the girl.”
“’Twill get easier as the babe grows.” She sent up a prayer of protection for Laura and rubbed her own belly. Fear of losing her babe was always just below the surface. With two gone, she couldn’t bear losing another. Protect this one, Father, and the three children we have. As long as she and Matthew and the children were safe, she could handle anything.
Matthew carried the hoe and pitchfork back to the barn. The sound of Philip mucking out the stalls caught his attention. “’Tis nearly time for supper.”
“I’m almost finished.”
Two figures cast a large shadow into the barn near where Matthew stowed his tools. He turned and felt his neck tense. It was Stephens and Jones, the men he had met in Alexandria. “I’m surprised to see you gents here.”
“We wanted to—”
“Wait.” Matthew held up his hand. “Philip, go on in now.” Any conversation with these men had to be private.
Philip walked out from one of the stalls. “Something wrong, Mr. Stewart?”
“We can finish this later.” He patted the adolescent on the back as he walked by.
When Philip was halfway to the house, Matthew turned to the men. “Gentlemen.”
Lucas Stephens glanced at Martin Jones before focusing on Matthew. “Have you given any more thought to our earlier conversation?”
“Some.” He had prayed and searched his heart and mind on the matter ever since.
“You have any questions? We can begin making some initial plans ... a reason for you to be in Philadelphia around June.”
Matthew rubbed his chin. June. Exactly when he had planned to go, though they had no knowledge of that.
A Heart for Freedom: He longs for freedom, but won’t risk the lives of those he loves. Page 4