Although Nathan had an idea this was the case, that his father was not James Stuart, knowing it for a fact left a numbness in his chest. He had loved the man he called Papa. He had loved his grandfather. Now he knew the “truth” of why Grandfather turned his back on all those years of love—all because of his hatred of anything English. It should have made it easier to understand. It did not. For thirty-five years Nathan had thought of him as his grandfather, and now he was supposed to forget all those years.
“I was asked to leave Pinecrest. Jamie’s father could not tolerate me there once he knew the truth about his son’s marriage and your birth. I only agreed if he would include you equally in his will. We made a deal. I would return to England and not have anything to do with my children. He would make sure my children, especially you, were provided for. From your letter, I learn he has broken his word.”
Anger surged through Nathan, flowing through his bloodstream to all parts of his body. He bolted to his feet and crushed the letter in his hand. The least his mother could have done was tell him the truth when he had first written her. Then he would not have spent the past five years trying to figure out what he had done wrong to change his grandfather’s feelings toward him. Yes, they had fought over Eliza, but they should have been able to mend that rift.
Tossing the letter to the ground, he strode to the barn to saddle his horse. It was time he and his grandfather had the talk they should have had years ago.
Rachel watched Nathan storm inside the barn. Should I go talk to him? Something is wrong. She stared at the discarded letter under the elm tree. The breeze rolled it over the dirt toward a puddle of rainwater. She headed out the door to rescue the note. Nathan might want it later.
As she stepped outside, Nathan emerged from the barn, mounted his horse, and set his steed into a gallop down the road. Rachel opened her mouth to call out, but the fierce expression on Nathan’s face underscored his fury. At the person who wrote the letter? Or someone else?
Sarah came up behind her. “Where is Nathan going?”
“I don’t know. I gave him a letter. He went outside to read it and then left.” Rachel gestured to the balled-up paper on the ground. “That is it.”
Sarah marched to the letter and snatched it up before it rolled into the puddle. She unfolded the paper and read it. A frown descended over her features, reminding Rachel of how Nathan had looked when he read it.
She hurried to her friend. “Who is it from? What is wrong?”
“ ’Tis from our mama.” Sarah lifted tear-filled eyes. “Telling Nathan that our father is not really his. That his father is Edward Worthington, who recently died in England and has left Nathan a large fortune. It appears that Mama went back to Edward when she was in England.”
“Where do you think Nathan is going?”
“To Pinecrest. Grandfather knew about Edward and did not tell Nathan.”
That explained so much to Rachel—the anger and anguish she had seen on Nathan’s face as he read the letter. His pain reached across the expanse and gripped her. “I need to be there. He will need someone to talk to after seeing his grand—your grandfather.”
“With how Grandfather feels about you?”
“I don’t care. Nathan has always been here for me. I need to do this for him.”
“I don’t think it is a good idea.”
Rachel pivoted away from Sarah and rushed back into the house. “John, may I borrow one of your horses? Using the cart with the ox would take too long. I need to get to Pinecrest.”
John peered over Rachel’s shoulder at Sarah coming into the house, a question in his eyes.
“I believe Nathan left to have words with Grandfather.” Sarah walked to her husband and gave him the letter.
After John read it, he glanced up at Rachel. “I will go with you.” Then he turned to Sarah and said, “Will you wait here or do you want Moses to drive you and the children to Charleston? I will come when this is over.”
Sarah folded her arms over her chest. “I’m staying. This concerns my family.”
“Let’s go.” Rachel strode out the door and toward the barn.
The images of Mr. Stuart paraded across her mind—all angry, as though he had felt betrayed. Now she knew why. But Nathan had nothing to do with it.
Nathan ignored Patrick as he charged into the house at Pinecrest. His grandfather at this time of day was always in the library. He headed for that room, but when he swung the door open, no one was inside.
“Where is he?” Nathan demanded, curling and uncurling his hands.
“What’s going on? Grandfather received a letter and has not said a word since. He is out in Mama’s garden, sitting on the bench.”
“A letter? From whom?”
“He did not say. He took it with him.”
As Nathan strode toward the garden, he ignored his younger brother’s pleas to tell him what was going on. He was not even sure himself. But he intended to find out, once and for all. He found his grandfather—he could not think of the man in any other terms. Suddenly, as he closed the space between them, scene after scene flitted through his mind—his grandfather teaching him to ride, to shoot a musket, to fish. The long discussions they had about the Democrats and Federalists trying to run the country, the escalating troubles between America and England.
Nathan slowed his pace. He had learned so much from his grandfather. What must it have been like for him to discover suddenly that Nathan was not really his grandson? That must have turned his world upside down. As it has mine.
His grandfather saw him and struggled to his feet, leaning on his cane. “What are you doing here?”
“I received a letter today from Mama.” Nathan waved his hand toward the paper clutched by his grandfather. “Did you too?”
He scowled. “Yes. I am surprised, though, to see you here. She told me she wrote you a letter telling you everything.”
Nathan nodded, his throat so tight he was afraid his voice wouldn’t work.
“Your real father died recently. She said she did not have to be silent any longer, because he provided for you in his will. He had no heirs, except you. Congratulations. I understand you will be a rich man.”
“The money is unimportant to me.”
His grandfather’s eyebrow rose. “What is important to you? That little Englishwoman you have been helping?”
Fury flooded Nathan. His hands squeezed into fists. He tried to inhale a deep breath but could not seem to get enough air into his lungs. “We are leaving Rachel out of this conversation.”
“There is no need for a conversation. I am sure your mother told you all the sordid details. What I don’t understand is why my son would agree to marry her when she was with child. I thought I had raised him better than that. Oh, I know he thought he was in love with your mother, but love has nothing to do with marriage. I am sure he figured that out when your mother did not return his love.”
Nathan backed away, feeling the blast of hatred emanating from the old man. The childhood memories of their times together had been based on a lie. Now that the truth was out, his grandfather did not have the capability of forgiving and letting go of the past. That would not change. Why did he think it might if only he came to see him?
“I feel sorry for you. Your hatred will eat you up. It takes up too much energy. I came to tell you I have forgiven you for the way you treated me. I should have been told the truth from the beginning. Both you and Mama did me no favors keeping it between you. For that matter, Papa too.” He would not end up like his grandfather, letting the past rule his whole life. He had for the past years, but not any longer.
“He was not your father. I am not your grandfather.”
“In my heart you are, and he will always be my father to me. Family is about ties that go beyond blood, but you cannot see that. For the past five years I have wondered what was wrong with me that you and I could not return to the relationship we once had. Now I know there was not anything wrong with me. Only you. Your
life is sad. You are sad. I will pray for you.”
Nathan pivoted and strode away, probably never to return to Pinecrest until his grandfather passed away. Not having the energy to explain everything to Patrick, he made his way around to the front of the house where he had left his horse. He would let his brother get the truth from Grandfather. After the emotional upheaval of the past month, all he wanted to do was return to the farm and sleep for days.
When he rounded the side of the house he had grown up in, Nathan saw Rachel and John waiting by his horse. The sight of them threatened to break down the barriers around his heart, but all he had to remember was the coldness his grandfather had exhibited to shore up the wall he had erected to protect himself. He could not go through another five years as he just had.
He blanked any expression on his face and approached the pair. “You rode all the way over here for nothing. We had better leave. It will be getting dark soon.”
“Are you all right?” Rachel asked, covering the distance to him.
“Yes, why would I not be? I just found out I’m a rich man.”
She winced.
He skirted her and vaulted into his saddle, leaving John to help Rachel mount. Nathan clenched the reins so tightly his hands ached. He did not care. He needed the pain to ward off the grief of finally losing a grandfather he had loved—still loved in spite of what the man felt. Love was not for him. It hurt too much.
After Rachel and John were on their horses, Nathan tapped the sides of his and galloped away from Pinecrest.
For two days Rachel had endured Nathan’s silence. After supper each night he had returned to the barn, where he had his bed. The evenings after the children went to sleep were lonely nights for Rachel, sitting by the light trying to sew a gown for Mrs. Bridges. She had enjoyed Nathan’s company. Maddy was often with Mr. Baker. She wouldn’t be surprised if he asked her to marry him soon. Then what would she do, with both Maddy and Nathan gone?
After nursing and changing Faith’s nappy, Rachel swung her around, listening to her child’s laughter. She had thought by coming to the farm she could become independent, but that was not what happened. She had become dependent on Nathan for friendship and support, as well as Maddy. She could not cut herself off from the people she cared about—not like Nathan could. He even shut out his sister when he came back to the farm. All he had told Sarah was that it was over between himself and her grandfather, then he had retreated to the barn.
Rachel cuddled Faith to her. “Are you ready to help me outside? It is washing day.”
Faith scrunched up her tiny mouth as though she understood what Rachel had said about the laundry and hated it as much as she did.
“I know. Not fun. But it has to be done. Maddy is already outside getting everything set up. It will be cooler out there. Well, perhaps just a little.” Heat was building up in the house, and she walked to the door and opened it. After she stepped over the threshold, she propped up a board against the doorframe, a device Moses had made for her to help keep creatures out of the house when she left the door open for a breeze to cool the interior.
Near the well, Maddy had built the fire and set the vat of water on it to boil. The sun beat down on Rachel as she sought some shade to place Faith. She spread a blanket for her to lie on. After settling Faith, she moved toward Maddy.
A lone rider coming from the road claimed her attention. She was not expecting anyone. Nathan was out in the far field. After all that had happened the past couple of months, she grew rigid, gripping the paddle she used to stir the clothes in the hot water.
Then the features of the man came into view. “Richard!”
Maddy paused in putting the linens in the vat. “Richard?” She peered at the rider. “Who is that?”
Rachel dropped the paddle and raced toward the man. “My brother.” Excitement erased the months of separation between her and her eldest brother.
He stopped and hopped to the ground, sweeping her up into his embrace and swinging her around. “You are all right. I was afraid of what I would find when I was told in town where you were.”
She hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek. “Why are you here? How did you get here? When did you come?”
His robust laughter echoed through the clearing. “One question at a time. Let me get a good look at you.” He stepped back, clasping her upper arms. “You have changed since I last saw you.” His survey took in her face slowly. “You’ve been out in the sun.” He picked up her hands. “They are rough.”
“It is called manual labor. It takes a lot to run a farm.” She removed her hands from his grasp, realizing she had changed in more than physical ways since she left England. “How did you know where I was? Mama could not have gotten my letter yet. I only posted it recently.”
“Not your letter, but she got one from a Mr. Nathan Stuart.”
“Nathan wrote Mama?” Nathan never told her that. He must have really wanted her to go home to England, and when she refused, he took matters into his own hands. For the past two days he had ignored her, and now this. It made her realize how much of a burden she had really been for Nathan—an obligation he had to fulfill because he felt responsible for her and Faith.
“Papa too. I am here because Papa sent me.”
“He did?” How many times had she dreamed her father would want her to return home, all forgiven? “When did you arrive?”
“Yesterday. I asked around town and found out that Mr. Stuart’s family owned Pinecrest. I went there this morning. I thought an older gentleman was going to shoot me until his grandson intervened and told me where you were.”
“That’s Patrick, Nathan’s younger brother. His grandfather hates anyone who is English. That includes me.”
Richard glanced toward Maddy, who stood at the vat stirring the clothes and listening to every word. “May we talk inside?”
“Yes.” Rachel strolled to the blanket and hoisted Faith into her arms. “This is my daughter. Faith, this is your uncle, Richard.”
“It is true Tom died at sea?”
“Yes. Fell overboard, drunk.”
Her brother frowned. “That does not surprise me after the stories I have heard concerning Tom Gordon.”
“Stories?”
Richard strode toward the house, removing the propped barrier and entering. “Papa had me come looking for you in London, probably right after you left for America. No one knew for sure where you and your husband went. One man told me he won some land in America, but he didn’t know where.”
“Won?” So her husband’s story about buying the property had been a lie too.
“Yes, he had gambling debts, still unpaid in several establishments in London. I’m sure that is why he fled the country right ahead of the debt collectors.”
Something else she hadn’t known about her husband. How blind she had been to his shortcomings. “When we received Mr. Stuart’s letter, we finally knew where to find you.”
“Papa sent you looking for me? I thought he was so angry with me he never wanted to see me again.”
“That did not last long. You have always been the apple of his eye. His arthritis has been acting up, or he would have come himself. We can leave on a ship day after tomorrow bound for England.”
“Day after tomorrow? What do I do about the farm?” Everything was happening too fast. She needed time to think.
“I cannot be gone long. What’s keeping you here?”
She started to say “nothing,” but the word lodged in her throat. She swallowed over and over but still could not say it aloud.
“What is going on here? Who is this Mr. Stuart to you?”
“I’m her hired hand,” Nathan said from the doorway.
“Well, not exactly,” Rachel interjected when her brother’s frown evolved into a deep scowl. “He has a stake in the farm too. He gets fifty percent of the crops we have.”
“We?” Richard looked from Rachel to Nathan then settled his blazing gaze on her.
“I coul
d not have made it without Nathan’s help. We are partners in the farm.”
Richard rotated toward Nathan. “Will you buy her part? I’m taking my sister back to England.”
“Wait! Richard, it has not been decided yet.” She loved her big brother, but he was being highhanded as usual—much like her father.
Her brother shook his head. “What has not been decided? You cannot stay here. Your husband is dead. You have an infant to take care of.”
Ben and Emma poked their heads through the doorway but stayed outside.
“I have more than Faith. I have Ben and Emma too.”
“Ben and Emma? Who are they?”
Rachel gestured to the children to come inside. Heads down, steps labored, they moved into the main room.
Rachel walked to them and put her hand on Ben’s shoulder. “This is Ben and his sister, Emma. I have been taking care of them. Their parents are dead, and they don’t have any relatives. I am not going anywhere without them.”
Richard opened and closed his mouth twice before he pressed it shut. A nerve jerked in his cheek.
He was not happy. Rachel sighed. “Emma, will you watch Faith outside with Maddy?”
The little girl nodded and took the baby from Rachel.
“Ben and Nathan, I need to be alone with my brother to explain to him what has happened the past four months.”
Nathan returned to the far field and resumed picking the ears of corn with Ben. But his mind was not on his job. He peered back in the direction of the house, although he could not see it through the pine forest blocking his view.
Rachel needed to go home. He was glad her brother had come to get her. After all, he was the one who had written the family to tell them of her circumstances and the baby she had. So why was he practically yanking whole stalks out of the ground instead of just removing the ears of corn?
From This Day Forward Page 24