The men stood nose to nose and looked like they were about to come to fisticuffs. Matthew arose and got between them to separate them. “Calm down, Charles. Nothing is to be gained fighting amongst ourselves.”
Aaron slapped his hat against his leg. “I am ready to go to war with England, but I had not anticipated fighting with my neighbor.”
Matthew shook his head. So much for the peaceful afternoon.
CHAPTER 7
The next morning after the Macmillans left, Matthew took a tankard of coffee and joined the ladies in the common room. He studied some receipts as Heather and Mary sewed and exchanged ideas on clothing design. Polly was seated at one of the round tables, rocking the cradle on the floor at her feet.
Heather held up her yellow gown. He smiled, remembering how it had once belonged to Elizabeth but was later given to Heather since she came from Scotland with few clothes.
“I thought we could also alter this gown,” Heather said. “’Twill be quite elegant if we add some lace to the neckline and the edge of the sleeve. Would you like that?”
Mary dropped her work. “It looks so pretty on you. Surely you wouldn’t part with it.”
“I have enjoyed it, but now, you need new garments that will serve you for your social engagements in Philadelphia.”
Matthew went over to Heather, placed his hands on her shoulders, leaned down, and kissed her head. “A very generous gesture, my dear. Two Stewart women looked stunning in the gown, and you will also, Mary.”
Heather looked up at him, her eyes glistening. “I can only imagine how delighted Mary’s mother would have been for her to wear the dress.” Heather pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and handed it to Mary after a tear rolled down the girl’s cheek. “I would love to refashion it for you.”
“It would mean so much to wear a gown both of you favored.”
The sound of a coach approaching the Green interrupted their conversation.
Matthew walked out to the center hall and called out. “It appears the Duncans have arrived.”
Heather followed him outside and hugged Maggie. “What a treat. You said you might come by when you visited your sister.”
“Aye, we were with her and the family for a couple of days. Look at you, Heather Stewart.” Maggie stepped back and gaped. “When were you going to tell me that you had a wee one on the way?”
“I wanted to wait, to make sure. Sometime in October, we will welcome this wee bairn.” Heather ushered Maggie inside to the common room. She’d best tell Maggie about the Gordons’ loss.
“I am happy for you and Matthew.” Maggie noticed Polly. “Oh, I must peek at Polly’s new babe.”
Heather pulled Maggie aside. “First come help me get the coffee.”
In the kitchen, she told Maggie about the death of the Gordons’ baby boy.
When the women returned to the common room with the coffee, Heather fought back tears as she watched Maggie go to Polly and share a few moments alone.
Maggie joined Heather in the kitchen a few minutes later. “I would be happy to assist you with any sewing for Mary.”
“Bless you. There is much to do before she leaves.”
“Time with the Moores will be good for the children, but you will miss those two.”
“I already dread their absence, and I worry for their safety. Matthew said ’twas better for them to make the trip now rather than later when the situation might be worse.”
“’Tis in God’s hands, Heather, and He is faithful. Trust that He will protect them. The Moores will always have Mary and Mark’s best interests at heart, and I suspect they will only have them in very sheltered circumstances.”
Heather nodded. “My mind knows that. ’Tis my heart that is anxious.”
After the supper, Maggie and Heather took tea and some hemming to the back porch to take advantage of the light.
Mary and Jean ran up to them. “We are going to play blind man’s bluff.”
Heather shook her head. “William and Douglas are too little to be running around the yard blindfolded with you older ones.”
Mary grabbed a kitchen cloth. “Get them playing quoits, Mother. That will hold their interest and not make them feel left out.”
“We will keep the boys out of your way, but once they are in bed, keep an ear open for them since we adults plan to take a walk.”
The five young people laughed as they each were caught and forced to don the blindfold. And the tots were satisfied with playing quoits near the porch where they remained out of harm’s way and supervised.
“I got you, Donald,” Cameron yelled as he pulled off the blindfold, looking very pleased with himself.
Mary took the blindfold from Cameron and ran to Donald to tie it on him. “I saw the way you let Cameron find you.”
The laughter in the yard continued as they tried to simultaneously tease and avoid Donald. Mary ran behind him laughing. She looked stunned when he suddenly turned and accidentally tripped her.
Mary cried out as she dropped to the ground. Donald, blindfold intact, toppled on top of her.
Donald took off his blindfold, smiling. “Look what I caught.”
Jean ran over to them. “You are supposed to grab the person, not fall on them.”
Mary gasped. “Get up. You are crushing me.”
Donald got his footing, still grinning. He reached down and helped Mary up.
“What is going on here?” Adam called as he and Matthew joined them on the porch.
Heather laughed. “’Tis nothing. They are playing blind man’s bluff, and Mary tripped.” She reached up and took Matthew’s hand. “If you gentlemen are ready to take a stroll, Maggie and I will put these lads to bed.”
Later, enjoying the smell of maturing wheat in the air, she and Maggie strolled along the well-worn path a few feet behind their husbands.
Heather’s eyes were on their husbands, deep in conversation and strolling ahead of them toward the Potomack. “What are you two chatting about?”
Adam glanced back, never breaking his stride. “Decisions to be made.”
Maggie looked resigned. “The constant yammering about the conflict with the English. ’Tis more tranquil here than in town, but I fear ’twill not escape any of us soon.”
Heather shook her head. “’Tis not as peaceful here as it used to be. Yesterday after church, grown men were fighting like schoolchildren. Even out here we cannot get away from the continual fracas.”
Matthew stopped abruptly and faced her, his expression intense. “We may have an insurrection before long. Ultimately, all colonists must take a stand on where their loyalty lies—with the Crown, or with those who desire freedom.”
Color rose to Adam’s face. “Virginia and Massachusetts are not the only colonies impacted by this. And ladies, England will not let us separate without a fight.”
Both women, now only five feet from their husbands, stood still and speechless.
Heather stared at Matthew. “But we are British subjects.”
“That is the problem. We are subjects who no longer want to be subjected to English rule.”
Heather suddenly felt light-headed. Darkness enveloped her, and voices grew distant.
Gradually, the light and sound returned. Heather opened her eyes. Matthew was kneeling over her, his hands cupped behind her head. Maggie knelt at her side, wiping her brow.
Heather pressed her hand to her throat. “What happened?”
Matthew helped her rise to a sitting position, never letting go of her. “You fainted. We’d better get you home. I can send Adam for the wagon.”
“Nay, I can walk. I stood still too long, and it made me faint. I had the same experience a few times when I carried Douglas and John. I will do better if I walk. I am well, dear, really.”
Matthew helped her to stand and held her arm, and their conversations took on a gentler tone as the couples walked back to the Green. Adam and Maggie strode quietly behind them.
CHAPTER 8
Heather
sat by a window in the common room studying the dress on her lap. “I think we are progressing well with the sewing.
Mary sat across from her. “’Tis only a week till we leave.”
“’Tis enough time. You will spend a night with the Duncans on the way to Philadelphia.”
“Hmm. Yes.”
Something was amiss from the look on Mary’s face. “Is something wrong?”
Mary sat silently a moment. “I should probably tell you since it may be known before long.” A crease had formed on her brow. “Donald told me he plans to join the militia.”
Heather leaned back in the chair, stunned. “His parents said nothing. Do they know?”
“He did not say, but I don’t believe so.”
“Yet he told you.”
“Donald told me early the morning the Duncans returned home. He said that after the killings in Massachusetts, Patriots needed to take a stand, put their words into action, and be willing to fight, even die if it came to that.” Tears flooded Mary’s eyes.
Heather got up and drew Mary into her arms. “Did he say when he planned to join?”
“No”
Mary’s expression suggested there was more to tell. “Donald must count you as a very special friend to share that with you before he has even told his family.”
“I believe he does. And I care a great deal about Donald also. I’m frightened for him.”
On the night before their departure for Philadelphia, Matthew bid Mary and Mark good night and took their trunks downstairs so they would be ready to load first thing in the morning. He walked back to the common room and sat at the table where he had left his lamp and Bible. After running his fingers over the worn cover, he opened it, read for a while, then mentally checked off the tasks he had to accomplish prior to their departure. The children’s time with the Moores would be good for everyone. Meanwhile, he could contribute to the efforts to secure liberty for his family and countrymen. No regrets. It wasn’t easy leaving Heather under any circumstances, but now with the new baby on the way—well, he had prayed enough about this decision not to second-guess it now. He felt strongly that the Lord had encouraged this, and he trusted that God would work everything that happened for their good. When he’d finished his Bible reading for the night, he closed the book and carried it upstairs.
He opened the bedroom door just as Heather was struggling to open the jammed window. “Here, let me do that.”
She smiled and moved away from the window. “I wanted to let in some of the fresh air.”
Matthew opened it, put his arm around her shoulder, and took a deep breath. The sounds of tree frogs and an owl nearby invaded the room, accompanied by a breeze carrying the citrus scent from the boxwood.
She sat at her dressing table, removed the combs from her pale blond hair, and rubbed her fingers over the delicate silver thistles embossed on them. He had given the combs to her five years earlier when he declared his love for her. What precious memories.
He removed his shirt. “I checked on Mary and Mark before I came in. They finally fell asleep.” He made eye contact with her in the mirror. “All should be in fit order for you. The Gordons, as well as George Whitcomb, will be around to assist you.” He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her neck. “I promise not to stay away a moment longer than needed. Please rest and try not to do too much. I am concerned for you and the baby.”
“I shall be fine. Polly and Thomas will be good company and do anything I cannot do.”
He took her hand and led her to their bed, where they sat facing each other. “Your fainting during the Duncans’ visit alarmed me. Shall I stop by the Edwards’ tomorrow on our way out and ask Thomas or Betsy to look in on you?”
“Nay, do not trouble the doctor. The baby is moving. I only seem to get light-headed when I stand still.” She placed her hands on each side of his face and drew him to her for a kiss.
Her kiss warmed him. Thoughts of days of travel and Philadelphia were drowned out by contemplating more desirable activities. He returned the kiss with an equal amount of passion. “You are already luring me back with your charms.” He caressed her face. “I could never stay away from you for very long, beloved.”
“Just reminding you.” Her playful grin returned.
“I will be back within a fortnight.”
“Oh, Matthew, I need to tell you about a conversation Mary had with Donald when the Duncans were here, though I suspect Mary told me in confidence. But you need to know if by chance ’tis addressed when you are in Alexandria.” She glanced at the closed door.
“What is it?”
“Donald told Mary he planned to join the militia, and I am not sure he has told Maggie or Adam yet.”
Matthew sighed and shook his head, which did nothing to ease her distress. “We all need to prepare ourselves for what is coming.”
“Donald’s decision does not surprise you?”
“I expect the fight ahead will require many men.” He began getting ready for bed.
“Why must you assume there is no other answer than going to war with England?” The pleading tone of her voice tore at him. How could he make her understand?
“Beloved, you must reconcile that there is no other outcome.”
She picked up his pillow and held it close to her. “The cost is too great. How can we possibly defeat England? We would be annihilated. Will you leave us to fight?”
He took the pillow, set it aside, and drew her to him. “I have no plans to join the militia.” He shifted so they could look into each other’s eyes. “However, we have been pushed far enough, and people throughout these colonies will put everything aside to fight for our freedom and the right to establish our own nation.”
“England will view that as treason. They won’t leave a land where they are so heavily invested.”
“If we are too frightened to take on the giants in the territory, we will continue to be their slaves. God is faithful, and He will equip us to do whatever He calls us to do. ’Tis time to trust that God will fight for us and provide a way for committed people to form a free nation.”
He turned down the lamp and held her close, unwilling to let her go just yet. How he wished he could tell her what he was doing, but that wasn’t an option. Keeping her and the children safe was his priority. He kissed her forehead then her lips. She responded the way he hoped, with as much passion as he felt. For a while, all concerns of children, the farm and ordinary, travels and strife, fled. Tonight was only about the love they had for each other.
After a hurried breakfast early the next morning, Heather watched Matthew load the wagon. Mary and Mark were excited as they climbed to their seats. As sad as she was to see them leave, she was pleased for all the new experiences this visit would provide for them.
Matthew checked the horses and stepped to her side. “Please take care of yourself and give Douglas a hug when he wakes. I will give the Duncans your love and return as soon as I can.” He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “I love you, my precious.”
“I love you, too. Be careful.”
She allowed herself to rest in the comfort of his embrace for a moment. Finally, she stepped back and turned toward the children. “Have fun, you two, and remember your manners.”
They smiled and waved as Matthew climbed aboard.
As Heather watched the wagon head down the lane, she recalled Matthew’s assurance that he would not join the militia. Poor Maggie. How she would worry about Donald. Would Matthew and their neighbors not also be drawn into it? How would she muster enough faith to believe as Matthew did and confront all that might lie ahead? “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee.” Thank You, Lord. I will trust in You.
CHAPTER 9
Heather got up after cleaning the kitchen floor.
Polly shook her head as she entered the room. “I know what you are doing. You are keeping busy and pushing yourself to cope with Matthew and the
children’s absence.”
“Am I that transparent?”
“Aye.”
Matthew would be back in a fortnight, but the children ... “I cannot imagine this place without Mary and Mark for the next couple of months.”
Polly stood across from her at the large worktable. “The time they spend with their grandparents will be good for them.” She washed the beans in the half-filled bucket. “And most likely Philadelphia will remain safe this summer.”
She looked up from cutting the cabbage and glared at Polly.
“I am only saying the chance of a war starting in the next couple of months is remote. I am sure the Moores will take good care of them, so stop fretting.”
Polly took a seat and began snapping the beans. “Philip and Todd moped around all of yesterday, missing Mark and Mary.”
“Hmm, I had not considered that they are suffering the loss also.”
The day after Matthew and the children left, Heather drove the cart to the schoolhouse to meet Amelia Turner and hang the new curtains they had sewn. They hoped curtains would preserve some of the heat during the cold winter months. When she arrived at the schoolhouse, there was no sign of Amelia. Heather gathered the linsey-woolsey curtains and carried them to the large door and went inside. Fresh air would go a long way to dispel the mustiness in the large room. She glanced around to assess where to start.
Mr. Martin, schoolmaster, was away for the summer visiting his family, so he would be of no help to her hanging curtains. She’d need something to stand on. A bench placed under the windows would make it easy to reach the poles. She dragged one to the first window. Holding the folded curtain in her right arm, she climbed on the center of the bench, being careful not to overturn it. She reached up and dislodged the pole from a bracket to slide the coarse woolen and linen fabric loops onto it, then returned the pole to its brackets. She pushed the loops along and edged her way along the bench to even out the fabric.
A Heart for Freedom: He longs for freedom, but won’t risk the lives of those he loves. Page 6