He charged at them. Sam first pulled Maria away from Matthew and off to the side, where she lost her balance and fell against a pile of straw. With another quick movement his fist hit hard against Matthew’s jaw, sending him to the ground.
Stunned, but only for a moment, Matthew stood up and rivaled Sam’s hit with as much strength, knocking him to the floor. “Get up, you freebooter. Get up!”
Sam stayed low. As he wiped blood from his mouth, his other hand found the wooden handle of a pitchfork buried in the hay.
Matthew, braver than ever before, stepped closer to Sam and taunted him, “Get up, you coward. We’ll see who wins Maria.”
Sam quickly grabbed the end of the tool under his fingers and swung it against Matthew’s leg with a crack, knocking him down.
This time Matthew couldn’t stand, the lower part of his calf felt as if its bone was broken.
Sam took his advantage; he leaned over and pulled Matthew up, then hit him again.
Maria screamed, “Sam, stop it!”
But Sam repeatedly whaled his fists against Matthew’s face and head until blood covered every part of his exposed skin.
Maria ran to them, screaming, “Stop! Stop!” She pulled on Sam’s shoulders. “It’s enough! You’ll kill him!” He shoved her away again, and she fell back against a post. Crying, she screamed, “I’m sorry, Sam. I’ll never leave you. I love no one else but you. Don’t hurt him anymore!”
Hearing these words, Sam ceased his brutal attack. Without a word, he wiped his bloodied hands on his pants, reached for Maria, and dragged her out of the barn and into the house.
Matthew lay unconscious on the floor.
***
Sam slammed the door of the house behind them. They stood in front of the open hearth. Maria was numb with shock and unsure of this side of Sam that she’d never seen before.
“Go to bed!” he ordered her, forcing her towards the stairway.
Maria’s shawl fell away from her shoulders. Unnoticed, its tassels spread over hot embers that lay close to the hearth’s edge.
53
Evening May 3, 1717
NORTH HARWICH – CAPE COD
MARIA LAY STILL IN BED as Sam climbed in next to her. “Sam, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“Best it not.”
“Where were you tonight after our meal?”
“I’m tired and need sleep,” was all he said.
But sleep proved difficult for Maria. Her mind kept going over the past events as she tried to understand why everything went so wrong. She wanted to erase the bloody images of Sam’s violent temper and squeezed her eyes tight together. Why had Sam been covered with dirt when he’d stood in the doorway of the barn, she wondered. Where had he been?
Maria turned on her side, facing away from Sam, and thought of poor Matthew. His words ‘I love you’ had surprised her. She recalled Abigail’s conversation with her in the bedroom and remembered her question about Matthew and how he felt about her and Sam being together. How foolish she’d been. Maria berated herself at being so ignorant of Matthew’s love, when, all around her, even Sam, could see it.
Rolling over on her back, she could hear Sam’s heavy breathing. She decided to check on Matthew.
Unable to find her shawl, she took a blanket from the chest at the foot of the bed. The light of the moon lit her way down the stairs and into the kitchen where smoke drifted in the foggy moonlight, nothing unusual for Maria’s eyes. Smoke always blew down the chimney when it was windy. Her steps took her across the floor and over the darkened unseen shawl; she closed the door behind her without a sound.
Matthew lay sprawled on the hay where she saw him last, his handsome face cut and mottled with dried blood. She tore the bottom edge from her inner skirt and found a pail of water to clean him.
Maria’s first touch to his forehead woke him with a painful start as the cool water dripped down his cheek. He tried to sit up.
“Stay down, Matthew. Let me help you.”
He looked into her eyes. It hurt to move his head. He held still while she dabbed his face, being cautious not to move his leg for fear that it was broken. “You should not be with me. It’s too dangerous,” he whispered.
“Shhhh.” Maria continued patting his face.
Matthew held Maria’s hand against his cheek and was comforted by her soothing touch. Behind them, through the openings of the boards on the barn walls, flashes of yellow and orange flickered outside.
***
As Sam turned over to lay the hand bruised from his rage under his pillow, the pain woke him. He smelled smoke. Opening his eyes, he could feel the heat around him. His body was wet from perspiration. Turning around, he saw Maria was gone. “Maria!”
He bolted down the stairs to discover a fire that had already engulfed the whole kitchen. Maria was nowhere to be found, and Sam assumed her to be safe. His next thought was of Abigail. He ran to her bedroom, threw open the door and pushed the green curtains surrounding her aside. “Abigail!” He shook her. “Abigail! Get up!”
Flames quickly spread across the ceiling of the bedroom from the kitchen. As he continued to shake her, the canopy over Abigail’s bed caught fire. Smoke filled Sam’s lungs. He shoved his arms under Abigail’s back, trying to lift her, but she was a dead weight. “Abigail, please! Get up!”
Sam quickly realized it was too late for Abigail but not for him. He needed to find Maria. He spun around just as he heard a loud crack above his head. The main roof rafter had split away from the ceiling, and within seconds the massive timber fell, breaking Sam’s back and rendering him unconscious. As flames enveloped everything, Abigail’s peaceful green curtains that she’d loved so dearly swallowed her and Sam in fiery death.
***
Smoke drifted under the barn walls. Matthew saw it first. “Maria! Fire!”
She turned to see the yellow flames through the cracks. “Oh no…Sam! Abigail!” She ran out the barn door to see the raging fire.
Matthew struggled to stand. He grabbed the pitchfork for support and hobbled out behind her.
Maria ran to the well and grabbed a pail of water. She threw it through the door of the burning house. As she turned to fetch another, Matthew held her back.
With all his strength he held onto her, hoping to prevent her from going any closer in her futile attempt to douse the fire. As they backed away, together, Maria broke from his hold and tried to enter the house again.
“Maria! Stop! It’s no use. You can’t do anything for them now.” His body shook, fearing the worst for Abigail and even Sam. As much as he hated Sam, Matthew felt no human being deserved to die like this. He grabbed Maria’s arm and pulled her as far away from the intense heat of the fire as he could.
They huddled together against the barn, staring at the flames that leaped high into the dark sky. The barrel of gunpowder beside the door caught fire and with one final blast destroyed everything, leaving no trace of Abigail, Sam or the house that Nathaniel had built. The explosion tossed burning pieces of wood on top of the barn’s roof, which began to smolder a few feet above their heads.
Matthew pulled himself up. “Hurry Maria, we must leave, NOW!” He limped into the barn. “Help me hitch the horse to the wagon.”
She sat unmoving. Her face blackened by soot, Maria stared through smoke filled eyes at the inferno before her. A deep, blood curdling wail escaped her lips as she realized everyone and everything she had ever loved was now gone. She had no desire to live without them.
“MARIA!” Matthew yelled, his mouth stiff and aching from his beating. He didn’t think he could go on. The pain in his shin doubled him over with every step, but he continued his quest. He wanted to save her; he needed to save her.
Matthew struggled to ready the wagon, but as he climbed in, he hit his wounded leg on the side of the bench and let out a scream of pain. This spooked the already nervous horse, making it run toward the open barn doors dragging the wagon with Matthew on its bench out into the smoky night air
, rousing Maria from her trance.
She looked up and watched the wagon come to rest a short distance from the barn, near the old roadway. Matthew was slumped over on the front bench. Seeing him there thrust her back into the horrific reality surrounding her. Maria ran into the barn to release the other animals, and then out through the double doors just as flames consumed the old barn.
“MATTHEW!” she yelled, jumping into the back of the wagon to get to Matthew. Maria lifted his head and face towards her to confirm he was still breathing. She held him under his arms and pulled his body off the seat so he could lie on the wagon’s floor. He was alive. She hurried onto the front seat and through swollen eyes she glanced back at the house that was once her safe haven. She felt so empty inside. As she flicked the reins that would take her back to a life that she thought she would never see again, Maria was determined to save the one person who was always there for her.
After a mile, Maria halted the horse, anxious to tend to Matthew. The smell of smoke still permeated the air. She lifted her skirts and swung her legs over the bench to join him.
He was conscious and trying to sit up. “Maria, where are we?”
“I’m not sure–only a short distance away. How do you feel?”
“I’ve been better.” He sat with his legs stretched out before him. “What about you?”
“I have some things in my chest that I could use to secure your leg.” She reached to uncover what lay in the rear of the wagon.
At first Maria didn’t notice the absence of Sam’s chest but as she looked further under the blanket she soon realized that it was missing. Frantic, she shoved things around then screamed, “Where is it? Where’s the other chest?”
“Maria? What’s wrong? What are you looking for?”
“The chest! Sam’s chest! Flailing her arms in search of the riches she yelled, “It can’t be gone. It must be here somewhere.”
Matthew took hold of her shoulders. “Stop, Maria! Stop!” He made her look into his eyes. “You must trust me. There’s nothing here but your travel bag and this small chest.”
Shocked, Maria sat against the side of the wagon and whispered, ”Why would Sam take the treasure? Where is it?”
Matthew took his place in the driver’s seat. “We have to get far from Abigail’s house. No one must know that we were ever near it.” He held the reins and warned her, “Stay low. It’s almost dawn. Hide yourself.”
Maria stared, unresponsive, into the night as the wagon rumbled along the roadway. She feared for the next event in her life and how it would harm her. Why was she being punished? What caused the fire? Did she forget something in the kitchen? Everything she touches, dies! Her stomach hurt; her chest ached. She could hardly breathe. “My life is over, I want to die. My life is over….” Maria laid her head against the wooden floor, closed her eyes and wished for death.
As the miles rolled by, fate looked mercifully upon Maria and eased her into a small respite of sleep. The wagon slowed its approach to the outskirts of Eastham just before dawn. The silence of its clattering wheels woke her.
“Whoa!” Matthew ordered the horse as he pulled on the reins to stop the wagon. There was something up ahead in the road.
Maria sat up and could see another wagon blocking their way; a horse was lying on the ground to the side. The writhing animal whinnied in pain, trying to stand. An older woman knelt over a small child. A man stood next to her.
“Hello, do you need help?” Matthew called out.
The man ran over to Matthew with terror in his eyes. “Yes, my son is hurt!” He spoke in short sentences. “We’ve had an accident…not sure what happened…something frightened the horse…the wagon wheel….” His voice trailed off as he looked to his son in the dirt. He ran back to the woman who was dressed in black. “Mother, we have help.”
As soon as the old woman stood, Maria recognized her as the Widow Baker.
“Matthew Ellis! Is that you?” The widow called out.
“Yes, Maam.”
She squinted her eyes and asked, “Who is that with you?” Unable to see who was in front of her, she changed her tone and pleaded, “Please, we need your help.”
Embarrassed at his helplessness, Matthew answered, “My leg is injured. I don’t know how much I can help.”
He turned to Maria, looking for her assistance.
Maria didn’t move.
Matthew quickly understood her hesitation. She was facing exposure. The disregard to laws that had been placed upon her now jeopardized her safety. He started to climb out of the wagon, but Maria stopped him.
When the widow saw Maria coming to their aid she growled with pursed lips, “Maria Hallett!” Then she screamed and took a protective position between Maria and the little boy. “I don’t want that witch coming near my grandson.”
Jonathan Baker chastised her, “Mother, please! Stop!” Looking at Maria, he begged, “Can you help him?”
Little Isaac Baker, not more than six years old, lay screaming in a pool of blood. His hand crushed.
Jonathan Baker knelt by his son. Tearfully he sobbed to Maria. “I tried to grab him. He fell to the other side of the wagon when the horse reared.”
Maria could see the intense pain in the small boy’s face and quickly ran to retrieve Minda’s healing herbs from her chest. The widow and her son watched as she took a small bottle of the special brewed tea that eases pain from a leather pouch. Holding the boy’s head up, Maria poured the bitter drink through his lips. Then she tied a piece from her woven cloths around the boy’s wrist to stop the bleeding. Because of his size, the boy responded to the calming effect of the tea within minutes.
“I have stopped the bleeding, and he seems calmer. You’ll have time to get him safely to the midwife, but you must hurry.” Maria stood and handed the small bottle to Jonathan. “When he wakes, give him sips of this to ease his pain. Move him to our wagon. You’ll have to come back for yours. And the horse?” she asked.
“I’m afraid I can’t do any more than put it out of its misery,” he said.
He cradled his son with loving arms as he placed the little boy behind Matthew in the wagon. The Widow Baker climbed in next to Matthew in the front on the bench, and Maria sat near the boy in the back.
Jonathan Baker walked over to his wagon to fetch his rifle. Patting his horse goodbye, he stood and released a bullet into its head.
54
May 4, 1717
EASTHAM – CAPE COD
WHILE THE MOON WAS STILL IN ITS WANE, the sun rose in the opposite end of the sky as they entered Eastham. Maria lay on the floor next to Isaac. Jonathan Baker sat to the side.
Matthew looked over to the Widow Baker. “I pray I don’t need to worry about your silence regarding Maria’s presence here today?” He hoped that she would understand the necessity of secrecy.
The widow shifted in her seat. “I fully appreciate the fact that she has given aid without malice to me and my family.” Looking straight ahead, she added, “Rest assured I will remain quiet.”
Jonathan responded from the rear, “I will do the same.”
***
The midwife, Lucinda McNeely, opened her door upon hearing the wagon.
Widow Baker called out, “Lucy, we’ve had a terrible accident. My little Isaac is hurt bad!”
Jonathan jumped out and scooped the boy into his arms. He carried him past Lucy and into the house as Maria hid herself under a blanket. The widow scrambled out of the wagon and followed behind her son.
Lucy called to Matthew, “Is that you, Matthew Ellis?” Wasting no time with further conversation, she shooed everyone into her house without approaching the wagon where Maria hid.
Matthew flicked the reins to leave. The Widow Baker watched him drive away from behind the half open door of the midwife’s house.
***
Over the next hour, Matthew’s wagon passed through the more populated areas of Eastham. He was trying to figure out what he should do next while Maria lay hidden from anyone�
��s sight. As individual houses came into view, he sensed the beginnings of the day in each household. Fires in open hearths, biscuits baking, and sounds of family life all filtered through the chilled morning air. The newness of the spring season filled his senses with hope. Would Maria come away with him? He imagined the two of them married, loving and enjoying each other as they went about their days.
Maria slowly lifted the edge of her covering to see how far they were on their journey. “Matthew, is it safe for me to come out?”
“Yes, we’ll soon be at your house.”
She threw back the blanket, knelt down and rested her forearms on the bench next to him. She watched the road go by under the horse’s feet.
“How are you feeling?” he asked her, hoping that she would be agreeable to his wishes of coming with him.
“My heart is so heavy. I don’t know what to feel.”
He placed his hand on hers.
Maria pulled it away, turned her back to him and sat down on the floor of the wagon. She rubbed her face and slumped forward.
His heart sank. He didn’t know what to say to her.
Matthew pulled the horse to a stop in front of the McKeon house. It looked uninviting and desolate, just as before–neither one of them moved.
Still unsure of the fate of his leg, Matthew cautiously stepped from the wagon. As he put his weight on it, he discovered that most of the pain had subsided, and it was thankfully not broken. He took this as a good sign. He unloaded Maria’s chest and travel bag into the house, then limped back to Maria, who was still sitting in the back of the wagon. I can’t leave her in this awful place, he thought.
He held his hand out to her, and she took it, her face showing no emotion. With Matthew’s help, she climbed out of the wagon. He placed his arm around her waist. “Maria, you don’t have to stay here. Come with me.”
As they walked together to the door, he felt her body next to his. He didn’t want to let go of her. He waited for her to speak her answer, but she said nothing. Dejected, he turned to leave.
The Old Cape House Page 25