“I was only gone three days.” He dismounted and tied the horse to a post.
“Grant, I must show ye the notice from the landlord. The Lord must have moved his heart for ’tis a generous offer he is providin.”
He followed her inside the cottage where she handed him a document. “Look. See what it says here.”
He read through the notice twice and shook his head. “’Tis amazin—unexpected— ’n an answer. I stopped to tell ye what I learned in Coleraine about passages to America. I never dreamed the landlord would give ye the means.”
“’Tis an answer to prayer for sure.”
“Does Molly know about this?”
“Aye. I fear she is going to take some convincin. Ye needs to declare yerself.”
He waved the parchment. “How is Keith?”
“Saw him yesterday and he is on the mend. She is takin good care of the lad.”
“I wanted to tell ye what I found about the ships goin to America. Looks like we either depart from Belfast or Londonderry for a Philadelphia port of entry.” He showed her the notes he took. “’Tis surprisin how many ships are transportin folks from Ireland to America in the next six weeks.”
“So many ships? All leavin by mid-August?”
“There are more transports to New York, but Molly’s brother lives in Philadelphia. Do ye think that might tempt her? The port at Philadelphia also makes travel to Gavin in Virginia easier.
“But now we shall have the funds.” The sparkle in Katherine’s eyes warmed his heart.
“I’m needin to get home.”
“So, go … and do yer courtin.”
“I’m askin for yer prayers again.”
“Ye have them.”
CHAPTER 15
GRANT APPROACHED THE MACGREGORS’. Was it excitement about approaching Molly with a proposal or fear of rejection that was making him sweat? Keith was not in the hut, and no one answered the cottage door. He walked around the cottage, but no one was in sight. The lad could not have gone far with a broken leg. He got back on the horse and rode toward town. Keith and Scott were sitting on the back of a wagon just beyond the church. “What are ye doin here?”
Keith laughed. “Glad yer home. Miss Molly had to make a delivery to the parsonage.”
“We were tired of being stuck at home,” Scott added. “So we came along for the ride.” Scott looked at the parsonage door and frowned. “Molly said she wouldna be long, but ’tis been awhile.”
“Be patient. I will get home ’n feed ’n pasture the horse. Ye will be back soon.” He kicked the horse into a gallop. Taking a dunk in the river before supper was a must before courting the fair Molly.
The wagon was back by the time he finished bathing and reached the hut. He shivered as he set down the wildflowers he’d picked on the way back up the hill. Had there ever been a chillier summer? He smoothed back his hair, put on a clean shirt, and picked up the violets, cowslip, and bishop’s weed. “God, I’m needin the right words to tell her what she means to me. Please give me favor in her heart. Open her mind to comin to America with us.”
He came through the cottage door, and Molly stood, her eyes alight. “We are glad yer home.”
She took his breath away standing near her work table, lovely in a lavender dress that set off her trim figure, blue eyes, and golden hair. Nice to see her in something other than her mourning clothes. He offered her the wildflowers he carried. “I thought ye might like these.”
“Ta.” She smiled and put them in a vase, then drew close to him. “Could we go for a walk?” she whispered.
That was encouraging—and he had not even said anything yet. Lord, Yer good.
Scott and Keith were sitting on a low rock wall whittling when they left the cottage. Molly called to them. “Lads, we will be back soon. Then I will fix supper.”
Her gait was brisk, suggesting she had something she wanted to say. Best hold back a bit and let her share what was on her mind.
She gave him a shy smile. “Was yer trip to Coleraine successful?”
“Aye, ’twas. ’Tis good to see Keith doin well ’n not in pain. Thank ye for takin care of him.”
“The doctor came by yesterday. He said the break was healing, and the swelling is down. Scott has been helping him.” She laughed. “Those lads are thick as thieves.”
They were silent a minute, then she turned to him. “There were two things I needed to speak with ye about. Yer aunt received another notice from the landlord. ’Tis unbelievable, but he is offering his tenants payment for passage to America this summer.” Molly shook her head, and the dreaded furrow returned to her brow. “Katherine was thrilled. I fear ’twill be harder to convince her to come with us to Coleraine.”
What was she talking about? He reached for her hand and led her to a fallen oak on the slope overlooking the river. “Do ye care to sit?”
She nodded and sat on the trunk. “The other thing is … I dinna know when ye begin yer job, but I received my eviction notice and need to get to Coleraine to find employment. If ye must start work immediately, I’m sure Katherine would help with the lads. If we both had employment in Coleraine, it may encourage her to go with us.”
He sat a few feet away on the trunk, his legs on the opposite side of hers. She thought he went to find work in Coleraine. Now what?
He swallowed hard. “The lads are close ’n we all love Katherine. ’Tis also my desire we all remain together …”
A look of relief replaced her worried expression. “I’m sure she will listen to ye. She thinks the world of the two of ye.”
He held up his hand. “However, there is some confusion. I didna find work in Coleraine. I went there to find out about transport to America.”
She leaned back, eyes wide. “But … I thought we talked about both of us finding employment in Coleraine so we could find places to live and …”
“That was yer plan, lass, not Katherine’s or mine.”
She put one hand to her lips. The anguish in her eyes tore at his gut.
He took her other hand in his. “I care for ye, Molly MacGregor, with all my heart.”
Hurt and confusion crossed her face, yet she did not pull her hand away.
“I would be honored if ye would be my wife. We can be together, as a family, ’n settle in America. The transports sail from Belfast and Londonderry to Philadelphia.” He reached for her other hand now which had moved from her chin to her chest. He held both hands in his, caressing the backs of them with his thumbs. “I favor the peaks ’n the glens, but if city life suits ye, we can settle in Philadelphia. If the peaks ’n the glens are more to yer likin, we could travel on to Virginia with Katherine. Say aye, sweet lass. Be my wife ’n let me love ye ’n care for ye ’n Scott.”
Molly pulled her hands away and stood, pain etching her face. “I’m sorry. I cannot go with ye to America.”
He stood, bit his lip, and nodded as she turned and dashed back toward the cottage. Rebuffed. He’d been foolish to think she cared for him. Katherine had also misjudged her feelings. He needed to get Keith and leave the hut, save them both further embarrassment.
Shaking, Molly headed to the cottage, tears running down her cheeks. What had just happened? How could she have misunderstood his intent on going to Coleraine after they had discussed the plan? Had he not gone to Coleraine at her suggestion? But he never had actually agreed with her. She shook her head. And the proposal. She had handled it wretchedly, impulsively—without honoring his feelings. As she neared the cottage, she stopped. Facing the lads like this would only prompt questions she couldn’t answer. She strode toward the river to gather her thoughts.
She stopped when she was far enough to not be visable from the cottage. Leaving Aghadowey and going to Coleraine was enough of a change but going across the sea to America? Terrifying. Yet Katherine was willing, nay, excited by the prospect. Ewan and Gavin had gone there—and survived. She cried out. “Are Ye going to help me, Lord? I’m afraid. What should I do? I dinna want to lose Katheri
ne.” She put her hands on her hips. “I dinna want to lose him…and he and Scott will go with Katherine.”
She paced back and forth several minutes before sitting on a log. The memory of Grant holding her hands and declaring his affection warmed her. Why did she not tell him she cared for him also? All of this was so new to her. All because of fear—fear of change. What was it Ma had said about fear?
“There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment.”
Lord, I asked Ye to make a way for us—and it appears Ye had—and I missed it.
“I do care for ye, Grant Cummings.” She walked back to the cottage. She must apologize and try to make amends.
Grant lifted Keith down from the pony. “Lean on me lad, and I’ll help ye inside.”
Keith moved his arm allowing him to aid him to the door. “Ye have not said why we had to leave in such a hurry. We could hae waited till after supper.”
How could he explain to the lad that it was best for all of them to leave now? Besides, in a day or so they would leave for one of the ports. “Everything will work out fine, lad. Ye’ll see.”
Katherine opened the door, her eyes shifting from Keith to him. A frown formed on her brow as she ushered them indoors. “Here, sit in this chair. Yer just in time for some cock-a-leekie.” Once Keith was situated, she turned toward him. “Well?”
He shook his head. Not the best time to let her know of his disastrous proposal. “I’m needin to see to the horses, Aunt, then I will be in.”
“I will go with ye.”
Once outside he removed the packs and led them to the pasture. “Do ye mind puttin us up tonight?”
“Of course not. What happened?”
“I declared my love ’n the lass was not inclined to accept my offer.” He put both hands up. “We misjudged her feelins.”
“What did she say, if ye dinna mind sharin.”
He glanced back toward the cottage before fixing his gaze on her. “She said, ‘I’m sorry. I canna go with ye to America.’” He shook his head. “I said nothin to Keith about it. Figured it best we leave. There are ships sailin regularly. I have some funds, and with what we get for the horses, we should have enough to pay our passage. Ye will need to learn how the landlord will fund yers.”
She stood silent holding on to the fence rail. “’Tis not right. I know she cares for ye. Somethin else is goin on here. Let me speak with her.”
“Aunt, ye dinna need to do my biddin for me. She was not unkind, just plain spoken.”
They went inside and sat down to supper. They had not finished eating when a knock at the door drew their attention. “’Tis late fer company, Aunt.”
Katherine looked relieved. “Not at all. My guess ’tis just right.”
Katherine opened the door. Molly stood there with a pensive expression and breathing heavily. “Been expectin ye.” Katherine faced him. “Would ye kindly bring me a bucket of water from the well?” She handed Molly the pitcher off the table. “I need the pitcher filled also. Here, take a light.” She handed him a lantern.
“’Tis only just dusk, Aunt.”
“Take yer time.” She closed the door behind him.
He gazed at Molly. “’Tis surprising to see ye.” She was beautiful even with reddened eyes.
They walked toward the well. “I was not expecting ye and Keith to leave.”
“How could we not leave given the circumstances?” Why had she come—just to have them return to the hut for a few days?
She shook. “I had to come … and tell ye … I was wrong. I do care for ye. If ye will forgive me … still have me, I want to be yer wife.”
He put the lantern on the stoop by the well and drew her to him. Holding her close he leaned down and met her lips with his. How long had that desire floated through his mind? Since she shared her cottage rules. But here she was, returning his kisses. She was crying again. “’Tis somethin wrong, lass?”
“Nay, nothing. I’m trying not be afraid anymore. I feel at home … with ye.”
“Can ye feel at home with a Highlander who loves ye … ’n go to America?”
“Aye … I will go wherever ye goes.” She hugged him, and looked up at him, smiling now.
“Take my hand, lass. Come ’n we will tell Katherine we will all be off to America.”
Author’s Note
In 1816, millions of people throughout the British Isles as well as Europe experienced much colder and wetter weather that resulted in poor harvests and higher food prices and led to famine and increased disease. These unexplainable weather conditions caused many to migrate to America seeking better living and employment opportunities.
What wasn’t known at the time was that the harsh weather was the result of a large volcanic eruption at Mount Tambora, Indonesia, in April of 1815 which spewed millions of tons of dust, ash, and sulfur dioxide into the atmosphere. 1816 became known as the year without summer.
Janet is a wife, mother of two sons, and grandmother of eight who lives in the historic triangle of Virginia (Williamsburg, Jamestown, Yorktown) with her husband. Her debut novel, A Heart Set Free was the 2016 Selah Award winner for Historical Romance. The second book in the series, A Heart For Freedom was released 2017. A lifelong student of history, her love of writing fiction grew out of a desire to share stories that communicate the truths of the Christian faith, as well as entertain, bring inspiration, and encouragement to the reader.
https://JanetGrunst.com
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This story is dedicated to my father, Donald Lamont, and our long line of Scottish forebears.
Chapter 1
Sandpoint, Idaho
May 1915
CALLAN MACTAVISH NEVER SAW it coming.
Last thing he recalled, he was chopping a tall white pine, lifting his ax high overhead and bringing it down hard. Far above, the tip of the towering pine swayed against the cobalt sky. He’d watched it, satisfied it would fall cleanly onto the pole-ribbed skid road, just as he’d intended. He yelled “Timber!” at the same moment that somebody else hollered something he didn’t quite catch.
From there his memory grew fuzzy. A tremendous roar. Lars Bergstrom shouting at him, waving his arms.
Then nothing, until he awoke in the Page Hospital in Sandpoint, trussed up like a hog and aching from head to toe. But alive.
“The villain wasn’t the tree you was cuttin on,” Lars explained later as he sat next to Callan’s hospital bed, rearranging a handful of playing cards. “The villain was that ponderosa pine behind you, the one bein felled by Bob’s team. Durn thing changed direction as it fell, went completely cattywampus. Nothin nobody could do to stop it. Thankfully, you was the only one hit.” He glanced up. “Well, maybe thankfully ain’t the right word, but you get my meanin. We thought you was a goner for sure. But you’re lookin better today. Rummy.” He splayed the cards onto the bedside table.
“Nay, thankfully’s right. I’m still in one piece.” Callan’s jaw clenched as he laid down his cards. Every part of his body hurt. Nonetheless, he thanked God for the pain. Pain meant he wasn’t paralyzed, hadn’t lost a limb or worse. For the second time, his life had been spared, despite his ability to attract trouble like iron filings to a magnet. Why Lord? he’d prayed more than once since waking in the hospital. Not that I’m ungrateful, but why do Ye keep sparin me?
“At least you lost no fingers this time,” Lars said. “I seen your hand, how you got bit by the crosscut witch sometime in the past. So’ve I.” He held up his hand to show where the tip of the thumb was missing. “And so have half the fellers up at the camp. Hazard of the trade.”
Callan glanced at his own right hand. Where the middle and ring fingers were supposed to be, now were only stumps, the result not of this latest accident but an earlier one. An incident he tried very hard not to think about. At least he had
n’t lost his card-shuffling ability. He picked up the deck. “Another round?”
Before Lars could answer, a young red-haired nurse entered the room. She set on the table a pair of denim pants, a plaid flannel shirt, and a pair of socks, all laundered and neatly folded, that Callan recognized as his own.
“Hey, you’re upsettin our game,” Lars teased, gracing her with his most endearing smile. Callan rolled his eyes.
“I’m afraid your card-playing days are over, Mr. Bergstrom.” Her pretty face wore a stern expression, but her twitching lips gave her away. “Mr. MacTavish here is being released.”
“Nurse Crandall, say it ain’t so. You mean to tell me this is goodbye?” Lars clutched his chest with great drama. “I feel a pain comin on. Could it be my heart breakin clean in two?”
“Don’t quit your day job. You’ll never make it on the stage.” She turned her attention to Callan. “The doctor has approved your release, but you’re not to go—”
“I know, I know. He told me himself.” Callan held up a hand. “I’m not to be goin back up to the camp just yet.”
“Not until Monday. The doctor wants you to stay close by for a couple of days, just to make sure you’re out of the woods. So to speak.” The nurse grinned. “Meanwhile, the bill has been sent to the company. Eat a good meal, get plenty of rest.”
“That’s why I’m here.” Lars stood and bowed deeply. “I’ve been assigned to stay with him, then help him find his way back to camp come Monday. A nice little holiday for me, but in the meantime, I’ll have a bit of time to kill. What time do you get off work?” He winked at Nurse Crandall. A faint blush rose in her cheeks.
“Why, Mr. Bergstrom, that’s none of your concern.” But by the way she said it, Callan wagered she’d be strolling through town on Lars’ arm before the day was through. He grinned and shook his head. His flirtatious friend had a way with the ladies—unlike himself. A bonny face tied his tongue in knots. Not that there were many bonny faces to be found in the logging camps where he’d spent the last three years.
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