A Heart for Freedom: He longs for freedom, but won’t risk the lives of those he loves.

by Janet S. Grunst

  Jones took his hat off. “No one is asking you to take up arms or join the militia. Your role will be more discreet and take far less of your time. You can still run your farm and the ordinary.”

  Stephens added, “You are the perfect man for this, Stewart. You know that.”

  Matthew glanced to the grassy area leading to the Green. Heather would be expecting him soon, possibly even sending one of the children to get him. He turned back to the men. “If I agree, ’twill be on the condition that nobody knows anything about this.”

  “Agreed.” Stephens appeared to be the lead man on this assignment. “When will you decide?”

  “Tomorrow, if you answer my questions satisfactorily. I will make my decision then.”

  Jones put his hat on. “Fine.”

  “’Tis supper time. None of this will be discussed. Understood?”

  “Of course,” Stephens said.

  Matthew watched the two men walk back toward the Green, heaviness pressing on his chest. Lord, if this is part of Your plan, I need You to show me a sign. And if this is Your call for me, please equip me to execute it.

  Later that night, Matthew entered their bedroom and began removing his shirt. He glanced at Heather as she sat on the edge of the bed braiding her hair. She was captivating.

  She cocked her head. “Our guests seemed eager to speak with you when they arrived.”

  He put his clothes away without comment.

  “Where do you know Mr. Stephens and Mr. Jones from?”

  “I met them in Alexandria.”

  “Do the Duncans know them?”

  “Not sure.” He hung up his shirt and turned to her. “I think they are from Philadelphia.”

  She tied a rag at the end of her braid and watched him ease himself into bed. “Are you going to tell me about your conversation with them or am I supposed to guess?”

  He leaned back onto his pillow, regarding her. Would her questions ever cease?

  She lifted her eyebrows.

  He opened his arms. “Come here, my sweet.”

  Reclining on the bed beside him, she searched his eyes.

  He wrapped his arms around her. “All the talk of turmoil between the colonies and the Crown upsets you. They were passing on news about the friction between the Royal Governor and the locals. The Randolph brothers are opposed to each other. John is remaining loyal to the Crown, and Peyton is leading the Virginia delegation to the Second Continental Congress.”

  “Matthew, what does that have to do with us here, so many miles away?”

  “The conflict is not just between the Crown and the colonies to the north. Virginians are taking sides.” He held her close, caressing her back. “I say we sleep now.”

  Her warmth and the scent of her hair were intoxicating. He knew she would have enjoyed living closer to civilization these past five years, but he was more grateful for their distance from town than ever. If nothing else, the miles would make her feel safer.

  The next day, Heather was in the kitchen to begin dinner preparations. Glancing out the window, she spotted Matthew speaking with the two guests outside the barn. They seemed intent on whatever they were discussing.

  Mary came through the door and set the tub with the chickens she had just plucked on the counter. “I thought Father planned on going to the Whitcombs’ place today.”

  Heather picked up the fowl. “I believe he is taking the ox over there after dinner.”

  “May I go with him? I told Martha I would help her finish sewing her gown. You don’t need me for anything this afternoon, do you?”

  “By all means, go. When does Martha leave to visit her aunt and uncle in Williamsburg?”

  “The end of next week. Martha said she will be attending teas, assemblies, and concerts.”

  “That sounds enjoyable.”

  “Much more interesting than doing chores on the farm. I suppose I should be thankful to have a friend who lives nearby who will have interesting stories to tell when she returns.”

  Heather fought the impulse to roll her eyes. “True.”

  Mary’s brow furrowed. “I would settle for going to Alexandria or even Fredericksburg.”

  Heather placed the chicken pieces in two large iron skillets. Matthew planned to let the children know at dinner about his intention to take them to Philadelphia in June. Soon enough, Mary would have her own exciting news to share with their nearest neighbors.

  Thoughts of Hannah Whitcomb made Heather shudder. She was grateful the Whitcombs lived but a ten-minute walk from Stewart’s Green, giving Mary and Mark neighbors close to their ages. Tobias and Martha were sixteen and fifteen, and Teddy was only a year older than Mark. But their mother, Hannah, could only be described as difficult. While at times the woman demonstrated a tender and generous heart, more often she was a busybody and gossip. Hannah’s lack of tact set many folks in the community on edge.

  When they finished dinner, Mary cleared away the plates. “May I go with you to the Whitcombs’ today, Papa? Martha and I have some sewing to finish.”

  Heather caught the wink in Matthew’s eye when he set his napkin down and held up his hand. “Yes, but first I have a matter to discuss with you. You too, Mark.”

  Mark had been pushing back in his chair but stopped at Matthew’s words. Both the children regarded their father.

  “We received a letter from your mother’s parents.”

  “The ones who live in Boston?” Mark asked.

  “Correct. They are planning to spend the next few months in Philadelphia at a cousin’s home and have asked if the two of you might like to visit them. I responded that I believed you would.”

  Mary leaned forward, eyes wide. “Do you mean it?”

  Mark looked back and forth between the adults.

  Matthew reached over and tousled the boy’s hair. “We mean it. We agreed you both should spend some time with the Moores. We are just waiting to hear back from them with more details. If ’tis still convenient, I will take you to Philadelphia next month.”

  Douglas crawled onto Heather’s lap. “Do I go too?”

  Heather ran her fingers through his sandy blond curls. “No, son, you are to stay here with us. I am grateful I do not need to part with you.”

  He looked relieved but remained in her arms.

  “Mary, I will get out those fabrics we purchased in Alexandria. We need to begin sewing those new dresses for you right away. You can share your news with Martha this afternoon.”

  “Philadelphia.” Mary stood and smoothed her dress. Her amber eyes sparkled. “Martha will be so jealous. I will get my needlework and be ready to go.”

  Heather got up and placed the dinner dishes on a tray. The sound of Mary running upstairs made her laugh and brought Matthew to his feet. “The drama of adolescence.”

  Still seated at the table, Mark had a pensive expression on his face.

  Heather untied her apron and hung it on a nearby hook. “Is something wrong?”

  “No ... well, perhaps, a bit.”

  “Are you anxious about going to Philadelphia?”

  “I don’t remember much about my grandparents.”

  “I’m sure once you are there a couple of days, you will be reacquainted with them, and everything will be fine. There will be so many fascinating things to do and discover. And Mary will be with you, so you will always have her company. Go on out and finish your chores.” She watched him through the window as he walked to the barn. They would be gone a long time, up to two months. Would they be in danger from the escalating conflict? Would this visit satisfy Mary’s curiosity for city life or only make her more dissatisfied living in the country when she returned?

  Why do I allow all these doubts to plague me? Is my faith in You, Lord, so fragile? She leaned against the sideboard, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around herself. Perfect love casteth out fear. She remembered her mother saying that. It must have been from the Scriptures. Aye, she would hold onto that. God had always been faithful. He would provide her
with whatever she needed to face any situation that would confront their family.

  CHAPTER 6

  Matthew headed home, enjoying the clear skies. He had been glad to loan the ox to George and Tobias. Two plows would cut the men’s plowing time in half. It had been a good day. The children seemed pleased about their trip to Philadelphia, Mary more so than Mark. The look on her face before she ran ahead of him to the Whitcomb farm warmed his heart. She was becoming a young lady with all the transitions of a normal fourteen-year-old.

  Had he given Stephens and Jones the right answer? He hoped so. He had certainly prayed enough about it. He would not question his decision now.

  As he turned the corner and entered his yard, he spotted the Gordon boys leading two horses to the barn, one that looked like Andrew Macmillan’s bay.

  At the kitchen door, he heard voices coming from the common room.

  Andrew and James stood when he entered the large room.

  Heather joined Matthew. “Look who arrived about thirty minutes ago. I told them of the children’s upcoming adventure.”

  James grinned. “Good to see you again, sir.” The young man had grown in the past ten months. Now eighteen and about six feet tall, his refined manners would serve him well.

  Andrew shook his hand. “I hope our arrival is not an inconvenience.”

  “Not at all. We are delighted to see you both.”

  Matthew turned toward Heather. “Mary will be home by six to help you with supper.”

  “Good. Now, gentlemen, if you will excuse me, I will see to the meal.”

  Matthew turned toward James. “So, you are back at William & Mary. We understand Williamsburg is becoming a hotbed of controversy between the Whigs and the Tories.”

  James nodded. “Yes, sir. We all are wondering what Lord Dunmore will do now that he is feeling more threatened with each passing day.”

  Andrew looked at his son with pride. “Hopefully, the governor will realize how serious we colonials are and act prudently.”

  Matthew pointed to the Gazette. “Have you seen Dunmore’s proclamation?” He picked up the paper and began reading.

  “‘Whereas I have been informed, from undoubted Authority, that a certain Patrick Henry, of the County of Hanover, and a number of deluded Followers, have taken up Arms, chosen their Officers, and styling themselves an Independent Company, have marched out of the County, encamped and put themselves in a Posture of War, and have written and dispatched Letters to diverse Parts of the Country, exciting the People to join in their outrageous and rebellious Practices, the great Terror of all his Majesty’s faithful Subjects, and in open Defiance of Law and Government; and have committed other Acts of Violence, particularly in extorting from his Majesty’s Receiver General the Sum of 3301 under Pretense replacing the Powder I thought proper to order from the Magazine ...’” Matthew set the newspaper on the table. “And the proclamation continues from there. If Dunmore feels imperiled, he may abandon the capitol. That would present an interesting opportunity.”

  A sly grin appeared on Andrew’s face. “An interesting opportunity indeed. That would change everything in Virginia.”

  Matthew glanced toward the kitchen doorway. He must end this topic. Heather did not need to be rankled now, particularly with the baby she carried. The danger was mounting. This latest news just solidified his choice. He wished he could share what he was doing with Andrew, but that would only put his friend in danger.

  He was on his own.

  In the kitchen, Heather tied her apron on and began preparing the cock-a-leekie soup.

  Mary walked through the door and set her sewing basket on the table.

  “I’m glad you are home. I want to hear all about your visit with Martha, but ’twill have to wait.” She handed Mary a knife. “Please go fetch me a few more leeks.”

  Mary’s shoulders sagged. “I wanted to tell you about Martha’s—”

  “The Macmillans arrived this afternoon, so we’ll have two—”

  “James is here?” Mary’s face lit up. “If I had known, I would have come home sooner.”

  Heather looked up from the kettle, eyebrows lifted. “The leeks, please.”

  “Right.” Mary picked up a basket from the larder before going outside.

  Heather shook her head. After she sliced bread, she glanced at the boiling pot hanging from the trammel. How long could it take Mary to fetch a few leeks?

  While she waited, she’d find the porcelain tureen. Now, where had she put that? Aye, the front parlor.

  When Heather went to the parlor, she was startled by movement outside the window. Were there birds nesting in the holly again? Nay, not birds at all. She edged to the side of the room to better observe the activity in the overgrown holly hedge. James and Mary were breaking off sprigs of the dark shiny green leaves. Had the girl gone daft?

  Heather marched back to the kitchen. She would get the leeks herself. She opened the door, and there were James and Mary with a basket of holly.

  James grinned in that charming way of his. “Mary and I were bringing in the holly.”

  Mary winced. “For the table arrangements, Mother.”

  “Aye ... holly to decorate the tables in May. Why did I not think of that? Let me take those.” Heather tilted her head and peered at Mary’s squinting eyes. “Mary, would you mind picking two or three leeks to add to our supper?”

  “Leeks? Certainly. Do you want to come along, James?”

  “Sure.”

  Heather watched as James and Mary walked around the side of the Green to the kitchen garden in back. Oh, my! Mary’s trip to Philadelphia could prove challenging for the Moores.

  Matthew ushered the Gordons, Andrew, and James to the common room for supper before offering the blessing.

  On the heels of the “amen,” Mark assaulted James with questions. “Is the college near the capitol? How do you get about? Do you have a horse with you or do you use a carriage or trap?”

  James looked flattered by the attention. “We need no conveyance. The college is right in town. We walk everywhere, even to the capitol at the other end of the street.”

  Matthew spotted Mary glaring at her brother before she focused on James. “I thought when you spent time at sea last summer you were destined to become a mariner.”

  James and his father exchanged smiles. “Since Father is a merchant and reliant on the shipping industry, I needed to become familiar with that part of the business. The ship remained in the bay, landing at various ports. It was hard work, but I enjoyed it.”

  While James was getting a diversified education, Matthew’s bet was that he would go into trade like his father.

  Andrew glanced at Mary. “Are you looking forward to your visit to Philadelphia? I’m sure you will find the social life there exciting.”

  “I am very excited about the visit. There will be so many interesting things to do.”

  He chuckled. “I expect there is a great deal a young lady would find appealing. And you too, Mark. Hundreds of Patriots turn out each day for military exercises.”

  Mark’s eyes lit up. “That will be something to behold.”

  Heather exchanged an anxious glance with Matthew.

  Mary’s eyes grew wide. “Whatever maneuvers take place in Philadelphia will not affect us, Mr. Macmillan. Our time will be spent in educational and social pursuits.”

  Philip, who had silently followed the conversation, spoke up. “Can you swim, James?”

  James nodded at Philip. “Why, yes, I can.” He winked at Mary.

  Philip nodded. “Good. If you are going to be on a ship, you should know how to swim.”

  The next morning, the Stewarts, Macmillans, and Gordons breakfasted and prepared for Sunday services, loading the wagons for the fellowship meal that would follow.

  Matthew came alongside Andrew. “I’m glad you and James will meet Spence Grayson and hear him preach.”

  Andrew mounted his bay, Stirling. “I’m looking forward to it, as well as meeting your other
neighbors.”

  “Other than a barn raising, our services and fellowship meal is our only social time with friends. It gets the day and coming week off to a positive start.” Matthew climbed up into the Stewart wagon and joined the others on the three-mile journey to church.

  When the service was over, people made their way to the grassy yard by the schoolhouse for fellowship and a meal. While the men talked with Reverend Grayson, the boys brought out tables and benches from the schoolhouse and the women set out food.

  Reverend Grayson offered the blessing, and the congregation gathered near the tables laden with food.

  Matthew pointed to a shady spot under a tree where his family and James were spreading blankets on the ground. “It looks like James has already met the Turners. Aaron Turner, the chap you just met speaking with Reverend Grayson, was the first friend Elizabeth and I made when we settled here nearly sixteen years ago. Our families have been close ever since.”

  Heather approached them and took Andrew’s arm. “Come meet some friends.” She introduced him to Amelia and Aaron Turner. “And these are their sons, Cole and Logan.” The two lanky youths, one a full head taller than the other, smiled and nodded. “And these are their eight-year-old twins, Emily and Ellen.”

  Matthew looked around at neighbors gathered in groups, laughing and savoring friendships. On a day like today, it was easy to forget Philadelphia and the marching orders Stephens would give him. Well, he would do his part.

  Everyone seemed to be enjoying the mild spring day when some neighbors got heated about the current political climate. Charles Whitney, owner of Whitney’s Mill, bandied about terms like “treason” and “treachery,” while George Whitcomb and Aaron Turner argued that the colonists not only should separate but had every right to do so.

  The sharp remarks traded back and forth silenced everyone seated nearby.

  Charles Whitney’s face reddened. “We are British subjects, and going to war with fellow subjects is untenable.”

  Aaron Turner yelled. “We are already at war, Charles. Colonists have been murdered by British soldiers at Lexington and Concord. This will only end by separation.”