Adam’s smile was compassionate. “We all want to find out what happened to Matt. I think our best option is to have one or more people not closely associated with him go to Philadelphia and try to learn more surreptitiously. Someone who already lived there would raise less suspicion.”
What Adam said made sense. “We must not place Matthew in increased peril, but who can we trust? We do not even know for sure if he got to Philadelphia.”
Adam drew his chair closer to hers. “Are Mary and Mark’s grandparents sympathetic to the Loyalists or Whigs? If they are aligned with us and are trustworthy, they might be able to suggest some people to contact.”
“I can ask Mary. She might have some insight into their attitudes. I need to tell Mary and Mark about their father’s letters, too.”
Later that evening, Heather pulled Mary aside. “Please come upstairs with me while I feed Sara. I’m eager to hear about your time in Alexandria.”
Mary looked over her shoulder at Jean. “There is too much to share tonight. Perhaps after the Duncans leave.”
“Just a bit tonight then, and we will talk more tomorrow.”
While she fed the baby, Heather observed Mary. How to ask her about her grandparents’ loyalties without raising her curiosity as to her motives?
Mary sat next to her on the bed, watching her sister. “Sara is changing so quickly and smiling more.”
“Aye.” She let the comment pass and the silence settle, then changed the subject. “Maggie mentioned you attended an assembly at Carlyle House and a party at the Lamont home.”
“Yes, and all the social skills I learned in Philadelphia prepared me well.”
Just the opening Heather needed. “And the trip to Philadelphia was a good chance to get to know your grandparents better. There must have been talk of the crisis with England while you were in Philadelphia. Did your grandparents discuss it? Did you get any sense of what their attitudes are regarding the colonies and Britain?”
Mary tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. “I thought you wanted to hear about my visit to Alexandria.”
“I was curious about your grandparents’ attitudes.”
“I believe they support the Patriot cause. A nephew of friends of theirs from Boston called on Grandmamma the day we arrived. Mr. Hancock was in Philadelphia with the Continental Congress. Grandmamma said he was the president of the Congress.”
“You never mentioned him before.”
“There were so many interesting things going on in Philadelphia. When Papa returned for us, we all went to an assembly given in honor of some of the delegates.”
Heather laughed.
“Why are you laughing?”
“I am not laughing at you, Mary. But, to many people, the activities at the Continental Congress are significant, and many would relish the chance to meet its president. If your grandparents had Tory sympathies, they would not be entertaining or mixing with members of the Continental Congress.”
“Were you thinking of contacting our grandparents to help us locate Papa?”
“Aye. Your grandparents could have connections in Philadelphia who might assist us.”
“What about Patrick O’Brian, the man I told you I met in Philadelphia?”
“Do you know him well enough to trust where his sympathies lie?”
“He is most assuredly aligned with the Whigs. I was surprised to see him at the Carlyle House assembly since he lives in Philadelphia. But he had come to Alexandria to visit his brother, Peter, who is also a cabinetmaker. Patrick spoke very well of the pamphlet Common Sense. He said that the author makes a strong case for immediate independence from British rule. ’Twas only published this year, and already so many people have read it.”
Heather placed Sara in her cradle. “Perhaps he could be of assistance. We should get back to our guests. We can talk tomorrow about Alexandria. I want to hear about Donald’s visit.”
CHAPTER 27
Heather joined Polly in the kitchen the morning after the Duncans departed. She made bread while Polly worked the dasher at the butter churn in a corner.
“Could one of your boys take Douglas to your cottage for a while after dinner? I need to address something with Mark, Mary, Thomas, and you. Hopefully, the girls will nap.”
Polly set the paddle down and wiped her brow. “Todd can take Douglas and work on the hornbook. Philip is repairing tools.”
At dinner, Heather partially listened to Mary’s tales of her time in Alexandria while she worried over how to broach the subject of Matthew’s letters and explain why she had not told them before.
Mary detailed the many social functions she had attended. After several minutes, Mark rolled his eyes. “We need not know everything about the grand homes and parties.”
Mary smirked at her brother. “I do have one bit of news you would be interested in, Mark. Owen Lamont joined the Continental Army.”
“Oh, my,” Heather said. “Not him, too.”
“Remember how rude Mrs. Blakemore was to Mrs. Lamont, Mama?”
“Aye. If she had not left for England, I suspect she would have given her an earful now.”
Todd added, “The Whitney boys left home to join the Continentals, and their pa had a fit.”
Thomas reached for the plate of ham. “That must have been a blow to Charles. He is a Tory sympathizer.”
Mary turned toward Todd. “How long ago did they join? Jean and I saw Mr. Whitney in Alexandria near Brady’s Shop. He acted odd at the time, but we thought his behavior must have been related to the conversation he was having at that time. He was in a deep discussion with his friend, Mr. Cranford.”
Heather looked up from her plate. “Did you say Cranford?”
“Yes,” Mary continued. “It was awkward when Mr. Whitney introduced us to him. Jean was introduced as Adam Duncan’s daughter, and I was identified as Matthew Stewart’s daughter. He even mentioned Stewart’s Green. Does Papa know Mr. Cranford? Did he stay at the Green? I surely would have remembered him, given his unusual appearance.”
Douglas’ eyes grew wide. “Was he scary looking?”
Mary smiled. “Not scary. He had an ugly scar on his face and walked with a limp.”
Heather nodded. The same man who’d helped her after her fall. The same man who had come to the Green looking for Matthew shortly afterward. “Mary, did either man mention your father’s absence?”
“They did not mention it, and I remembered that you’d said not to mention Papa being gone to anyone we did not know.”
Thomas got up from the table. “I think ’tis time we got back to work.”
Heather put her hand up. “Please stay a few minutes, Thomas. Philip can go back and work a while until you get there.”
Polly looked toward her youngest son. “And Todd, would you please take Douglas to the cottage and work with his hornbook or read with him until I come for Laura.”
After Philip, Todd, and Douglas had gone, Heather cleared her throat. “I need to tell you something.”
Mary frowned. “Is it about Papa?”
“Aye, ’tis.”
Heather spent the next few minutes telling them about finding Matthew’s letters while the Macmillans were with them. She pulled them from her pocket and read them aloud.
They listened silently. When Heather was finished, Mary pushed back from the table and stood. “You should have shared this with us in December.”
“Perhaps,” Heather said. “I tried to make sense of what your father had written. ’Twas very confusing and upsetting that he had an inkling of being delayed or not returning. I wanted more answers before saying anything to any of you. The Macmillans were here at the time, so I enlisted Andrew to find out what he could learn about your father’s absence. I also asked Adam Duncan to pursue any leads he could find. While you were in Alexandria, Adam tracked down the two gentlemen mentioned in the letter.”
Heather shared about Adam’s meeting with Mr. Stephens and Mr. Jones. “That is everything Adam told me. �
�Tis not much, I know. I was not trying to keep anything from you, only to protect you from information that would only distress you further.”
Thomas, stunned, leaned back in the chair. “None of us knew anything about this. ’Tis not like Matthew to be secretive.”
Heather leaned back. “I suspect Matthew didn’t tell us what he was up to for our protection.”
Mary sat down, looking resigned. “I still cannot imagine how you kept this to yourself.”
“’Twas not easy.”
Matthew walked haltingly with Anna’s and Oden’s assistance all the way to the door leading to the bedroom. The pain in his side was bad, but his legs were stronger. “Help me back to the table. Then I will walk on my own.” He gauged the distance between the table and the door. About ten feet. He could do that.
“You better every day,” Anna said, “but you ready to walk alone?”
“I need to try.”
They had just reached the table when the sound of horses neighing stopped them.
Oden took a firmer grip around him. “Anna, quick, go check window.”
After darting to the window, she turned back toward them. “Two riders. We get you to room.” Anna came alongside him, and they all but carried him to the bedroom.
Inside, Matthew collapsed on the bed. His fatigue competed with the pain coming from the wound.
Anna ran into the room with his clothing and bedding. “Tyst! ... No sound.” She jammed the things into a wardrobe. “On floor ... glida ... slide under bed!”
He rolled off the bed and managed to push himself under.
Anna got on the bed.
From the cold wood floor, his view of the room was suddenly blocked by a quilt. Oden and some other voices drifted in from the other room, but it was difficult to make out what was being said. He was sweating and his heart raced. Was it someone looking for him? Surely they would not come in their bedroom. Please, Lord, protect this dear couple ... and me.
Anna moaned.
Hard to guess how much time elapsed before the quilt was removed. It seemed like forever.
Oden’s face appeared. He extended an arm to pull Matthew out from under the bed. That was a painful exercise he never wanted repeated.
The couple assisted him back to his pallet. The curtains at the windows were closed.
Oden lit another lantern. “Some men from town.” Oden looked out a window and had a grim look when he turned around. “Ask if we see any strangers.”
Sitting on the pallet, Matthew leaned back against the wall and caught his breath. He was exhausted. The troubled expression on Oden’s face settled it. He must leave as soon as he could ride. “Oden, did the men go near the barn? Might they have seen my horse?”
“Nej ... I watched them go. Told them wife sick, so not been to town.”
Matthew gazed at Anna working at the kitchen table. “’Twas a canny plan to hide me that way with the quilt blocking a view of under the bed.”
The Flemings grinned, and Anna laughed. “We planned it many days ago.”
Matthew shifted on the pallet to take the pressure off his side. “I am grateful for how you both trusted me, cared for me, and protected me. I need to leave soon. You may be at risk if I’m found.”
Anna came over to the pallet with her bowl of water. “I clean wound now.”
He lay back and stared up at her face. Please protect this dear couple, Lord.
He raised his shirt, and she gently unbound his wrapped torso.
“It opened and seeping.” She dabbed it first with warm water, then with some concoction before she put a poultice on it. “You good man. Heard you pray. Have family?”
He shook his head and looked toward the wall. The less they knew about him, the better. Deceiving people had become a way of life and not one he wanted to continue. But for now, it was the only way.
After supper, Heather was upstairs feeding Sara when someone knocked on the door.
“’Tis me.” Mary opened the door a crack. “May I come in?”
“Certainly.” Heather motioned for her to sit on the bed.
“I apologize for being short with you for not telling us about Papa’s letters earlier.”
“I understand. Now, tell me about seeing Patrick O’Brian again.”
Mary smoothed her skirt as she positioned herself on the bed. “He was friendly, well mannered, and very engaging. Peter O’Brian’s shop is only four blocks from the Duncan home. Patrick and Peter called at the Duncan home two times, and we saw them again at Sally Lamont’s birthday party. I believe Peter O’Brian is partial to Jean. He may continue to call on Jean and her family.”
Heather held Sara to her shoulder. “Courting Jean? She is but fourteen.”
Mary had a sly grin. “Do you think fifteen too young for courting?”
Heather set Sara on the bed. She must tread gently. “Why do you ask?”
“I saw Donald while I was there.”
“Aye, Maggie mentioned it.”
Mary picked at the quilt. “When the Duncans were here visiting, before he joined the militia, Donald said he cared for me.”
Heather tilted her head. “What did you think of that?”
“I was surprised by his comment. He kissed me.” Her face reddened.
“Oh tha mi!” Oh, my. Mary was a bonny young woman. Why was she surprised?
“No Gaelic, Mama.”
“What I mean to say is, how do you feel about Donald?”
The blush was replaced by a bold look in her eyes. “I care a great deal for him. I always have, and I’m realizing that ’tis different than it was when we were younger. When Donald was home, he said he believes this fight with England will get far worse. He wants to court me when the war is over and said that my waiting for him would give him great hope.”
She needed Matthew’s insights. What would he advise? More waiting and less kissing, no doubt.
“Is this what you want?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I think I will know better by the time the war ends.”
“Aye.” And none of us knows when that will be.
The next day, Heather sat sewing in the common room. Mary came in with her sewing basket and sat across from her on one of the settees. “What if I contacted Patrick O’Brian and asked him to help us find out more about Papa?”
Heather looked up. Mary’s thoughts seemed to be tracking her own since she now knew more about the Irishman. “Given the nature of the work your father was involved in, I’m uncertain how to proceed.”
“We could travel to Philadelphia. I think Patrick would assist us in any way he could.”
“We cannot raise suspicions which might endanger your father even more.”
Mary groaned. “What should we do now?”
“If Peter O’Brian calls on the Duncan family, perhaps it would not appear as unusual if Adam and he traveled to Philadelphia to meet with his brother. Once in Philadelphia, Adam might be able to learn more about your father’s connections. Mr. Stephens said your father carried information to someone there.”
“Shall I write to Patrick O’Brian?”
“Not yet. Adam will know what to do. Meanwhile, we can pray for an answer.”
Mary got up. “At least we are doing something instead of sitting here waiting.”
“Aye.” She gave Mary a strong hug. “I am glad you are back. I missed you.”
CHAPTER 28
Matthew walked haltingly toward the table and took a seat. “Whatever you are cooking smells good.”
Anna stirred the kettle at the hearth. “You doing good, Matthew.”
“Better every day.”
Oden, grinning, placed more logs on the fire before joining them. “Sjomansbiffgryta.”
Matthew’s mouth watered. Anna’s fisherman’s beef stew was a favorite.
She ladled some of the crusty, savory stew into bowls and carried them to the table, where she sat.
After a short prayer, Oden passed him the plate of dark bread. “’Tis all se
t up for day after tomorrow, but you sure you strong enough for trip?”
“I have to get home.” Matthew gazed at these two who had come to mean so much to him. “’Twas a godsend that you were deer hunting near Raccoon Creek, Oden, when I was lying in the mud. If I had not frozen to death, I would have bled to death by that creek.” He focused on Anna. “And all you did, with your sometimes tortuous ministrations and miraculous herbs and brews, probably saved me. I can never thank the two of you enough for all the weeks of care you have given me.”
“You good man,” Anna said. “We get you home. But first Sjomansbiffgryta.”
They had just finished their meal when the sound of loud voices and gunfire ended the evening’s peace.
Several British Regulars burst into the cabin, their firearms aimed.
Matthew’s heart raced. He stood, light-headed, pushing away the wave of fear.
Anna and Oden stood and clung to each other.
A man in civilian clothes, the same one who had been to see him at the Green, Cranford, pointed at him. “That is the man, Matthew Stewart, Patriot courier. Arrest him.”
Anna put her hand up in front of one of the soldiers. “He hurt …”
Matthew cut in. “I do not know what you are talking about. I was badly injured and have been laid up for many weeks. These kind folks found me when I was nearly dead and have been nursing me back to health.” He looked at Anna and Oden. Please let them discern my motives. “I cannot even remember my surname, just Matthew.”
The soldiers looked back and forth between the man in civilian dress and each other.
Oden came forward and placed his arm around Anna. “What man says is true. He never tell us his last name, or where he from. He galen.”
Anna turned and stared at her husband. “Prata engelska, Oden!.” She faced Cranford. “Husband says, man crazy in head.”
Matthew looked back at Cranford with as blank a stare as he could muster. Sure, Cranford knew who he was, but the truth was that the Flemings were ignorant of his identity and the purpose of his mission.
“I know who you are. Take him,” Cranford said.
A Heart for Freedom: He longs for freedom, but won’t risk the lives of those he loves. Page 18