The House on the Hill: A Ghost Story

by Irina Shapiro

  When morning came and they loaded their wagon and set off, Sophie hadn’t bothered to ask where they were heading. Caleb might be resourceful, but Teddy was as wily as a fox and he’d see them safe. Despite her initial fear, she trusted him not only with her own life but with the life of their son, and knew Teddy took his responsibilities to his family seriously. He would see them right, but even if something went wrong, she’d rather go down in flames with him than ever be parted from him again.

  Chapter 45

  September 1728

  The house was still shrouded in darkness when Sophie awoke, but she instinctively knew it was close to sunrise. She slid from the bed, tucked the blanket around John Theo, who was still sleeping soundly, and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders before quietly stepping outside. Watching the sunrise had become her ritual during the past few months, the only consolation to her inability to sleep.

  Sophie sat down on the bench Caleb had built for her just beneath the window of the cottage and leaned against the shingled wall, her eyes trained on the horizon. The sky was a study in deep blue, but a thin sliver of gray was already visible in the east, the beginning of a new day not far off. Sophie held her breath as first a speck, then a narrow band of shimmering light appeared on the horizon, the sun beginning its ascent into the heavens. It promised to be another fine day, but autumn was in the air, and she hoped the approach of winter would herald Teddy’s return. He’d been gone for nearly six months, but she’d been lucky enough to receive two letters during that time, sent from exotic-sounding ports and delivered to her in a state of near disintegration after being handled by so many strange hands along the way. The letters took months to reach her, but she treated Teddy’s words as if they had been written only yesterday and heard his voice in her mind as she read them.

  Sophie never bothered to reply, since she knew her letters would never reach him, but wrote him a mental letter every night before falling asleep, updating him on the day’s activities, giving him a progress report on their boy, and assuring him that they were safe. Teddy had settled them in Sandwich, a rural community on Cape Cod. The house was tiny, only one room, but it was all Teddy could afford, and he’d chosen wisely. Their closest neighbors were Quakers, people who were kind, tolerant of others, and always eager to help. They were also farmers, which gave Sophie access to fresh milk, butter, cheese, and meat, since she kept no animals of her own save the horse Teddy had left behind should they need to get away. She felt safe among them and knew that should anyone come looking for her, her neighbors would never willingly point them in Sophie’s direction.

  Having found understanding and companionship among the women, Sophie had learned to be patient when it came to her son. At first, John Theo had simply existed. He’d eaten, slept, and soiled himself, but did little else that could be construed as interaction. He’d refused to look at Sophie, and although he’d responded to her voice and gentle commands, he’d made almost no sounds and didn’t attempt to speak. Her only maternal comfort had come at night when the child pressed himself against her as he fell asleep, sucking his thumb as was his habit. He often woke with a start when she got up during the night to use the pot and didn’t go back to sleep until she lay down next to him again. Sophie had confided to Alice, a Quaker woman she bought milk from, that she thought John Theo might be what others unkindly referred to as dimwitted, but Alice assured her that she saw nothing wrong with the boy. Alice had seven children of her own, six of them boys.

  “Don’t fall into despair, Friend Sophie,” Alice had said in her rich, soothing voice. “People like to think men are the stronger sex, but in truth, they’re not nearly as resilient as women. They don’t need to be. Give him time and love, and he will surprise thee,” she’d said, her eyes warm with sympathy.

  “I hope you’re right, Alice, for I’m beginning to fear I might never hear his voice,” Sophie had confided tearfully.

  “Thee will. John Theo will speak when he’s ready.”

  Alice had been right. By the time summer came to Cape Cod, John Theo’s toddling gait had become more of a confident walk, and he’d begun to take an interest in Caleb’s doings. Perhaps he saw him as a father figure, for lack of a father of his own to look up to, or maybe as an older brother, but he followed Caleb whenever he left the house, hurrying after him on his sturdy little legs. Sophie rejoiced in his improved health but fretted endlessly about his lack of intellectual development. She’d never expected Caleb to take on the role of teacher, but the young man was resourceful, as Teddy had pointed out, and seemed to have a genuine affection for the child.

  One day, Caleb stopped and turned, and, putting his hands on his hips, addressed John Theo, who was trying to keep up with him. “Now, listen here, J.T., if you mean to come with me, you’re welcome to do so, but you’ve got to tell me, otherwise you have to go back to your ma.”

  John Theo just stared at his feet, confused by this turn of events. Sophie’s heart swelled with pity as she watched the two, but she didn’t interfere. “That’s right,” Caleb continued, his blue eyes warm with affection for the boy. “You have to say, ‘Come.’”

  John Theo remained mute.

  “Go back home, then. Your ma will be missing you. I can’t take you along unless you tell me you want to come with me.”

  John Theo returned to the house, hanging his head in dejection, but the following day he tried to follow Caleb again. Caleb repeated his request and would not allow John Theo to come along when the boy refused to say anything.

  “I need to hear the words, boy,” Caleb said.

  “Caleb, please, don’t be unkind to him,” Sophie pleaded that evening after John Theo had fallen asleep. “He’d say the words if he could.”

  “You’re too soft on him, mistress. You coddle him too much because you are overcome with guilt. Well, I have nothing to feel guilty about, so I will take him in hand. You just give me a chance to prove to you that John Theo is as normal as any other boy.”

  “And if he isn’t?”

  “Then no harm done,” Caleb replied confidently. “I won’t be the first or the last person to tell him I don’t desire his company.”

  Sophie’s heart squeezed in protest, but deep down she knew Caleb was right. If John Theo remained silent, people would be cruel to him and treat him as if he were soft in the head. It took nearly two weeks, but one day, when John Theo grew desperate enough, he glared at Caleb and yelled, “Come!”

  “Well, well. Look who’s talking. Now that I know what you want, I’ll be happy to take you along with me. Shall we go fetch some eggs for your ma?”

  John Theo nodded, but Caleb wasn’t satisfied. “Say it, J.T.”

  “Yes,” John Theo murmured.

  “That’s my boy,” Caleb replied, grinning. “Let’s go, then.”

  The words came slowly and painfully. Just because John Theo said something once didn’t mean he’d say it again, but Caleb didn’t give up, and Sophie began to demand the same of her son.

  “Tell me what you want, John Theo,” she said as he held out his hand for an apple.

  “Apple,” he said shyly, then added, “J.T.”

  “You’d like me to call you J.T.?” Sophie asked, surprised. He nodded.

  “All right. If that’s what you wish.” Sophie turned away from the child and grinned to herself. She didn’t like the sound of J.T., but she liked the fact that John Theo had taken a stand and expressed his feelings. It had to be the start of something new and wonderful between them, and she’d indulge any request as long as he made it verbally.

  J.T. began to look at her as well. Shyly, at first, but then with more boldness as he made his wishes known. He seemed happy to have finally found his voice. Over the course of the summer, his vocabulary grew, and by the start of September, he was stringing words together.

  “Coming with you,” he’d cry when Caleb was ready to set off on one of his errands.

  “Well, come on, then,” Caleb would reply patiently. “I haven’t got all
day to wait for you.”

  One day, when Sophie had put on her shawl and reached for her basket, ready to go visit Alice, J.T. grabbed her hand and looked at her imploringly. “Where you go, Mama?” he asked.

  Sophie nearly swooned with joy. That was the first time he’d called her Mama. She was so happy she wanted to shout her joy from the roof, but instead she smiled kindly and said, “I’m going to visit Friend Alice. Would you like to come along?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Put on your shoes, then. You can hardly go barefoot.”

  J.T. quickly stuck his bare feet into shoes and joined her by the door, his face eager. Alice’s youngest was about his age, and they’d played together several times while Alice and Sophie talked. She held out her hand to J.T. as they left the house and he took it, sliding his own warm little hand inside hers. As they walked along the narrow track toward the Miller farm, she knew that she would always remember this day as one of the happiest of her life.

  **

  Once the sun finally rose and the darkness had been replaced by the brilliant blue of the autumn sky, Sophie relinquished her seat and returned to the house to start breakfast. Caleb was already awake and in the midst of a hushed conversation with J.T. Caleb did most of the talking, but J.T. listened attentively, hanging on every word. He idolized the older boy.

  “Now, J.T.,” Caleb said, “why don’t you use the pot, get dressed, and come help me fetch some water while your ma makes us breakfast,” he suggested.

  J.T. scrambled out of bed, pulled the chamber pot from beneath the wooden bedstead, and lifted his nightshirt, sticking his belly out as an arc of pee erupted from his stubby little penis. He finished and tried to pull the shirt over his head but found it too difficult and turned to Sophie for help. She lifted the nightshirt as he held up his arms, handed him his drawers, britches, hose, and shirt, and watched as he began to dress. He still needed assistance, especially with the hose, but Sophie didn’t immediately offer to help, allowing him to struggle for a few minutes before stepping in. J.T. became more self-sufficient with every passing day, something they were both proud of.

  “Your papa will be so surprised when he comes home,” Sophie said as she handed the child his shoes. “He will not even recognize you. He’ll say, ‘Who’s this big boy?’” J.T. glowed with happiness and pride. “Now, you go fetch me some water, and I will boil us some eggs for our breakfast. Would you like that?”

  Alice had advised Sophie to give J.T. as many eggs as she could. She said they’d make him strong and keep him full longer than just bread and butter. She seemed to know what she was talking about. Her children were all hale, and as far as Sophie knew, Alice had never lost one to ill health.

  Later that day, after Sophie had given J.T. and Caleb their dinner and settled J.T. for a nap, she came outside to take down the laundry she’d done that morning and was surprised to see two men heading in her direction. The house was isolated, not being part of a settlement or a village, so anyone who came that way was either lost or meant to come calling.

  “Caleb, get the musket,” Sophie called out softly. “We have visitors.”

  Chapter 46

  Caleb reached for the musket, loaded and primed it, then stepped outside and stood next to Sophie, who was numb with fear. She couldn’t make out the men’s faces, but one of them was stocky and thick around the middle, just like George. She barely glanced at the other man, so desperate was she to confirm if her husband had finally come for her. Sophie’s heart thumped and her breath came in shallow gasps. It’d been nine months since she left George, but she still lived in fear every day that he would somehow find her and come for her. And if he came, only a teenage boy with a musket would stand between her and George’s need for vengeance.

  “Caleb, should anything happen to me, please look after J.T. Don’t let any harm come to him,” Sophie pleaded, her gaze pinned on the men, who were getting closer.

  After peering into the distance for a few tense moments, Caleb set the musket against the wall and reached for her chilled hand. “Do you not recognize Teddy, mistress?” he asked softly. “It’s Teddy come home to us.”

  Sophie’s knees nearly buckled with relief and her heart leaped with joy. Now that Caleb had pointed it out, she clearly saw Teddy’s face and recognized his walk. Sophie breathed a sigh of relief. Whoever the other man was, the only thing that mattered was that he wasn’t George. Had Teddy been alone, Sophie would have hitched up her skirts and run to meet him, but the other man didn’t look familiar and she couldn’t guess the reason for his visit, so she remained where she was, her heart beating like a drum as the men drew nearer.

  As soon as they came into the yard, Teddy swept her off her feet and spun her around, kissing her soundly before setting her on the ground. He then shook Caleb’s hand and peered carefully behind the young man, who was being used as a shield by J.T.

  “And who do we have here?” Teddy said, bending down, his hands behind his back so as not to frighten the child.

  “J.T.,” the boy answered shyly.

  “J.T.? What a clever name you have. I quite like it.”

  J.T.’s round cheeks flushed with pleasure. “Thank you, sir.”

  “May I shake your hand?” Teddy asked, holding out his hand to the boy. J.T. took it solemnly, and Teddy shook his hand as if he were a grown man.

  “And may I scoop you up and throw you in the air?” Teddy teased as he lifted the boy and tossed him upward, making him whoop with laughter. “And can I do it again?”

  While Teddy was getting reacquainted with his son, the man who’d come with him addressed Sophie. “Roy Smith, at your service, madam,” he said, removing his stained hat and bowing from the neck, which was wrapped in a filthy neckcloth. The man had to be in his late twenties, like Teddy, but that was where the resemblance ended. His dark hair hung in greasy sheets, and his pockmarked skin was covered with a sparse beard. The look in his green eyes, which were quite beautiful, was watchful and calculating. Sophie had no obvious reason to be afraid, but she felt threatened by the man’s presence and his overly familiar stare.

  “Good to meet you, Mr. Smith,” Sophie replied. Normally, she would have given her own name, but her legal name was Sophie Holland, and that wouldn’t be the wisest thing to reveal. She assumed Teddy had told the man she was his wife.

  Smith’s mouth stretched into a lazy grin. “We’ve met before. Don’t you remember?”

  “I’m s-sorry,” Sophie stammered. “You have me at a loss.”

  “Roy will be staying with us for a few days,” Teddy said once he set a giggling J.T. on the ground.

  “I hope I’m welcome, mistress,” Roy Smith said, his shrewd gaze fixed on Sophie’s face.

  “Of course, Mr. Smith,” Sophie replied stiffly. She wished more than anything the man would just get on his way. “You two must be hungry after your journey,” Sophie said as they stepped into the house. She hadn’t started on supper yet, so she set out a loaf of bread, a wedge of cheese, and several slices of cold pork.

  Caleb placed a jug of ale on the table next to the bread and took out two plates and cups.

  “Thank you, my dear,” Teddy said. He smiled, but Sophie saw the warning in his eyes and didn’t ask any questions. Instead, she sat by the window with her mending, allowing the men to eat in peace. They talked easily, but she knew Teddy well enough to sense his guard was up. Why had he brought this man to their home if he didn’t trust him?

  Having finished the meal, Teddy turned to Sophie. “What say you to a little stroll?” He walked toward her. “It’s been too long since I’ve been alone with my lady,” he said, making her blush furiously.

  She set aside her sewing and took the hand Teddy held out to her. They left the cottage and set off at a leisurely pace. “Teddy, what is—?” Sophie began, but Teddy shook his head and put a finger to his lips. Sophie nodded and they continued to walk, his hand warm on hers.

  As soon as they were far enough from the house, Teddy pulled
her into the trees and kissed her soundly as he backed her up against a thick tree trunk. Sophie gave herself up to his kiss, all her questions forgotten. Teddy slipped his hand beneath her skirt, and she cried out and arched her back as he set about pleasuring her, his gaze never leaving her face.

  “I thought I’d die with the wanting of you, Poppet,” he whispered as he withdrew his hand and unbuttoned his britches. “And I can’t wait much longer.”

  Teddy lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around him as he took her right there, up against the tree. She threw her head back and closed her eyes, oblivious to everything but the unbearable pleasure of having him inside her. He moved slowly at first, but then quickened the pace, thrusting deep inside her until she dug her nails into his shoulders and let go, her body going limp in his arms as if she were a rag doll. Teddy set her down gently but didn’t let her go. He held her close, and she could feel the heat of his hands through the fabric of her gown.

  “I love you so, Poppet,” he whispered in her ear.

  Sophie should have felt elated, but a shiver of apprehension ran up her spine, making her push Teddy away so she could look him in the face. Instead of meeting her gaze, he looked down while he buttoned his britches, then took a step back.

  “Theodore Mercer,” Sophie said, her tone commanding. “You will tell me what’s going on this minute, and you will leave out nothing.”