Nell stood beside her little sister. Throughout the ceremony, they glanced at each other frequently, smiling, sharing the moment. It was as it should be, the two of them together.
They’d spent countless hours together in front of the window that opened out to High Street, making lace, talking, gossiping, praying. They were a close family, always supportive of one another. It wouldn’t have been right for Jenny to get married without Nell at her side. And Nell did her best not to do anything that would tarnish her sister’s wedding.
But there were unguarded moments—moments Jenny never saw—when a look of fear would cross Nell’s face, as if she was having a premonition of danger.
For the Boston Colony the wedding was a reason to celebrate, to give thanks, and to look to the future. Eliot and Jenny’s children would be the first of a new generation to be born in the colony.
Drew couldn’t share their excitement. He was feeling much the same way he had felt standing at the foot of the scaffold on Tower Hill. There, it was Bishop Laud and Christopher Matthews, the victor and the vanquished; here, it was Eliot Venner and Jenny Matthews, the beast and his prey.
My fault. It was my pride, my thirst for glory, my cursed vanity that led the predators to the home of the Matthews family.
For a moment, Drew wished he wasn’t a Christian. The solution would have been easy then; he could have killed Eliot, and this wouldn’t be happening now! He clenched his teeth and fists, wanting to curse.
Just for a minute, Lord, he prayed, let me play by their rules. I can fix this! The only reason Eliot is getting away with this is because he knows my Christian faith won’t let me come after him! Lord, free me from my commitment to You for one minute, that’s all I ask!
God’s answer to his prayer entered Drew’s mind in the form of a now familiar Scripture passage— “Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the LORD of hosts!”
It was the passage Jenny’s father had quoted when the men of Edenford wanted to use force against Laud; Matthews used it again on the scaffold before he died. Christopher Matthews lived and died believing the verse.
So must I.
Drew unclenched his fists.
Following the ceremony, Jenny moved away from the well-wishers and came to where Drew was standing off to the side. Her long brown hair swished from side to side as she approached, and flashes of light sparkled in her eyes. She wore her pixyish smile, and Drew was dismayed at how it still stirred him.
“Drew! I’m so glad you came to my wedding!” She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tenderly.
Her hair smelled fresh; her warmth against him was almost more than he could bear. Leaning his cheek against her forehead, he held her close.
“Eliot and I are going to be so happy!” she said. “You’ll see, Drew, he’s a good man. And we’ll invite you and Nell for dinner.” She broke away from the embrace to look up at him. “She does love you, Drew.”
“Jenny, I never wanted to hurt you,” Drew said.
“I know that now.” She smiled at him, her eyes moist. “And it worked out for the best! You have Nell. I have Eliot.”
Drew pulled her close to him.
He can’t have her. He can’t have her. If I don’t let go …
“Jenny!” It was Eliot. “Jenny, come here a minute. I want you to see something.”
Jenny Venner pulled away from Drew to go to her husband.
“God be with you, Jenny,” Drew said.
For the second time in as many months Drew climbed the small hill to the house he built for Nell and Jenny, where Nell now was living alone. It was Sunday afternoon, and she had invited him to dinner. Because of her chronicles of the colony, he’d anticipated the previous invitation. This one came as a surprise.
The bay stretched lazily toward the horizon. The trees were bare now. Drew hoped the afternoon would be uncomplicated. A ridiculous hope, considering the history of their relationship. It was a selfish wish; he just didn’t need any more aggravation right now.
He and David Cooper had gone to Winthrop and expressed their concerns to the governor regarding Sassacus’s “demon.” The cobbler had accompanied him to verify the grisly details of the Edenford killing.
As Drew was telling what he’d learned, he wished he’d brought Sassacus with him too, since his report was secondhand information. As it turned out, the governor had already heard about the bizarre mutilations from other Indians and trappers. Winthrop acknowledged the incidents were similar and found it coincidental that the events both occurred when Eliot was in the territory. But there was nothing he could do without evidence linking the killings to Eliot. When Drew pressed the point, the governor retorted that Drew was in the vicinity of both incidents too. For all he knew, Drew was the one doing the killings.
Another attempt to stop Eliot, another failure.
Please, Lord, Drew prayed as he neared Nell’s house, all I’m asking for is a pleasant afternoon.
Just then, the door to the house opened, and a redheaded giant emerged.
James Cooper.
Nell was standing behind him.
Neither of them saw Drew. James turned to say goodbye, and Nell hugged him. The giant returned her hug with his big paws, too friendly for Drew’s taste.
“Thank you,” Nell said, smiling. “That’s very sweet.”
It wasn’t until James turned to leave that they noticed Drew. James didn’t say anything as he passed by; he just smiled a goofy grin and raised his bushy red eyebrows.
“Come in, Master Morgan!” Nell called, smiling sweetly.
“What was he doing here?” Drew asked.
Her eyes flashed anger.
“Since when do I have to ask your permission to see anyone?”
Not a good start, Drew said to himself.
To Nell, “You’re right. I’m sorry. Forgive me, my emotions are on edge.—”
He didn’t say the rest of the sentence out loud, but he thought, especially when it concerns you.
“Apology accepted,” she said.
Her words forgave him, but her tone was icy.
The sitting room was empty when he entered.
“Who else will be joining us?” he asked.
“No one. Just us.”
He thought of reminding her of several things she’d said the last time they were alone in this room together. Things like, “It wouldn’t be fitting if the neighbors knew we were alone,” and, “I would have invited the Ramsdens if I had known Jenny wouldn’t be here.” But he said nothing. He wanted it to be a pleasant afternoon.
The meal was tasty. Baked cod, bread, corn. Nell was cordial, even warm to him. Drew was perplexed, but he was enjoying himself.
“I suppose you want to interview me some more for your journal,” he said.
She was clearing the table.
He was looking for something to do with his hands.
“No,” she said.
“Oh,” he said.
He picked up a spoon and tapped it rhythmically on the tabletop. She took the spoon from him and placed it with the rest of the dishes. Their backs were to each other; she at the dishes, he at the table.
“I’m thinking about returning to England,” she said.
“You can’t mean it!” Drew jumped to his feet.
Nell kept her back to him.
“That’s why James was here,” she said. “He’s going back in the spring. I could go with him.”
“But you told me you don’t love him!” Drew cried.
“I don’t love him!”
Nell swung around and looked at Drew like he was a dunce.
“I’m not going back so I can be with James! We would just sail together, as friends.”
“I can’t believe you want to go back to England!” Drew shouted. “What about Bishop Laud?”
“What can he do to me that can’t happen to me in this wretched place?” she shouted.
She was on the verge of losing emotional control.
“If you�
��re right about Eliot, what difference does it make where I live? He can kill me here or in England! Besides, if he doesn’t kill me, the Indians will, or I’ll starve to death or die from disease!”
She wept uncontrollably.
“There’s nothing for me here!” she shouted. “Nothing but pain and suffering and death! I have no family.… I’ve lost Jenny.… Eliot’s going to hurt her, Drew! I know it—I can sense it. I can’t stand by and watch that happen.… It will kill me to see her hurt.… It will kill me!”
She fell into his arms, sobbing.
“If you go back to England,” he said softly, “I’ll go with you.”
She pulled away and looked into his eyes. Her face was drenched from the tears. She didn’t say anything; she just looked and looked.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about Edenford,” she said.
She found a handkerchief and sat at the table.
Drew sat beside her. He chuckled.
“What?” she asked.
“I just remembered the time you wanted me to describe God.”
“I asked you to tell me what you believed in,” she corrected, enjoying the recollection. “And you said God lived in the trees!”
“I was pointing toward heaven!” Drew protested.
They both laughed.
“And I’ll never forget the look on your face when you started reading the Song of Solomon to Jenny and me,” she said.
“You tricked me into reading it!”
“Only because you wanted to force that awful King James translation on us!”
They both stared at the table in silence, lost in thoughts of Edenford.
“I remember the time you told me you would never leave Edenford,” Drew said.
“I never wanted to,” she said softly.
There was an uneasy pause between them. Nell scratched the end of one fingernail with another. Drew pushed a crumb with his finger.
“Drew, I’m so afraid here,” she said.
“I know.”
“You’d really go back to England with me?”
“If you left, there would be nothing to keep me here.”
“But I can go back safely. No one there knows I’m Justin. If you go back, Laud will surely try to kill you!”
“I know.”
“And you’d still go back?”
Drew nodded.
Nell focused on a fingernail as she spoke.
“I remember the look on your face when I told you James asked me to marry him.”
“I was devastated,” Drew said.
“If I remember correctly, you congratulated me!”
“What else could I do?”
“You could have forbidden me to marry him.”
Drew laughed. “Would you have obeyed me?”
“No.” Nell laughed.
Drew pushed the bread crumb.
“I remember when you told me you loved me,” he said.
For the longest time Nell studied her fingernail. She began to weep softly. Raising her head, she brushed away a tear.
“I still do,” she whispered.
Drew couldn’t believe he heard right.
Nell began laughing, then covered her mouth with her hand.
“You should see your face right now, Master Morgan!”
“You love me?”
“Yes, Drew. My dear Drew.”
He took her in his arms, holding her with all his strength for fear that something or someone would separate them. Once they began kissing, they couldn’t stop.
“Drew, my dear Drew, can you ever forgive me?” Nell cried between kisses.
“Shhh. It’s all right!”
“I hated you when Father died. I blamed you.”
Drew stroked her hair. “That doesn’t matter now.”
“I didn’t want to forgive you, but I always loved you.”
“Nothing,” he swore, “nothing will ever separate us again!”
It was late when Drew strolled down the hill from Nell’s house toward his hut. He wanted to shout. He wanted to sing. He wanted to tell someone, anyone, that Nell Matthews loved him.
He started laughing.
Halfway down the hill, he stood with his hands on his hips and looked heavenward.
“You’re incredible!” he shouted. “All I asked for was a pleasant afternoon!”
Sassacus joined Drew and Nell the following Sunday during the morning worship service and for dinner afterward. The Indian had shown thoughtful interest in the God of the British settlers. He had become a regular at the worship services so that he knew when to stand and when to sit, was beginning to try some of the songs. He followed the Bible reading and sermon intently even though he still understood less than half what was being said and closed his eyes through the entire prayer (after a while Drew stopped checking).
On this particular Sunday, Sassacus was mightily distracted. Everything was fine as the service began. Reverend Higginson prayed the invocation, and they had just finished singing the first hymn. Eliot and Jenny hadn’t yet arrived, but it wasn’t unusual for the two of them to come late. When the hymn was finished and the people began to sit down, Jenny and Eliot arrived. With them was another Indian.
Pleased looks passed through the congregation as the people glanced back and forth from Drew, Nell, and their Indian friend to Eliot, Jenny, and their Indian friend. Eliot had given the community every reason to be proud of him. He made an excellent living as a trapper, had bought a home from a wealthy family that had returned to England, married one of the respected Matthews girls, attended all church and social functions when he was home, and now was following Drew’s example in developing friendly relationships with the Indians. The people of Boston couldn’t understand why Drew wasn’t as proud of Eliot as they were.
In their Sunday morning pride they failed to notice the reaction of Sassacus to the arrival of the trio. Drew’s friend tensed the moment he saw the other Indian and for the remainder of the service was on edge.
During the service Drew leaned over toward him and asked what was wrong.
“This is not the time,” Sassacus replied.
Yet he remained so agitated that Drew doubted he heard any of the sermon. The Indian wasn’t even aware that the service had ended until people rose to leave.
“Drew! Nell!” Eliot motioned for them to join him.
Jenny hung on his arm, but from the look on her face it wasn’t from devotion. She kept her head lowered, blinking rapidly. Her chin quivered.
Uncas, surrounded by church members, was nervously preoccupied with the swarm of people who wanted to grab his hand and pump it.
Sassacus stood by himself off to the side. When Drew motioned for him to join them, he refused, preferring to keep a distance, rigid and watchful.
“I’d like you to meet someone,” Eliot said, as Drew and Nell approached.
Drew hated it. Eliot flaunted his position. Like a smiling vulture, he took every opportunity to mock his prey. Eliot was overtly warm and cheerful to Drew in public, with Jenny always by his side. Drew didn’t miss Eliot’s unspoken message.
There’s nothing you can do to stop me.
“I’d like you to meet a friend of mine,” Eliot gushed. “Drew Morgan, this is Uncas. Uncas is a Mohegan.”
Drew extended his hand. The unsmiling Indian squeezed until Drew showed a hint of pain.
Nell didn’t offer her hand. The cold eyes of the Mohegan slid over to her. The Indian studied her with a look that made her feel uncomfortable.
“Maybe you and I ought to become missionaries to these Indians!” Eliot said loud enough for other people to hear.
While Eliot watched for the expected favorable response, Uncas eyed Sassacus standing far off. The Mohegan’s eyes were rock.
Drew turned his attention to Jenny.
“How are you doing?”
“We couldn’t be happier!” Eliot answered for her, patting her hand on his arm. “I couldn’t have married a more perfect woman!”
Jen
ny didn’t say anything. When she looked up, Drew saw a bruise under one eye.
It was all he could do to keep from slugging Eliot.
As it turned out, it wasn’t a good day to have company for dinner. Drew and Nell desperately needed to talk about Jenny’s abuse. The unspoken topic preoccupied their thoughts the entire meal.
Sassacus was noticeably quiet too. Drew had always known him to be a pensive man, more comfortable with listening and observing than with speaking. But today he hardly said a word after they entered the house.
“You don’t like Uncas, do you?” Drew asked as they ate.
“Not a good man.”
“Do you think he is interested in learning about God?” Nell asked.
“Uncas interested only in Uncas.”
“Then why do you think he came to church?” Nell asked.
Sassacus stared at his plate. “Don’t know,” he said.
Several times during dinner the three of them unsuccessfully tried to initiate happier conversation. They offered opinions about when they thought the first snowfall would arrive, since it came late the previous year. Sassacus seemed pleased to hear that the colony was in much better shape to survive the winter. Drew and Nell smiled as Sassacus told them he had his eye on a certain Indian maiden. He expected to be sharing his hut with her by next winter.
Between the failed attempts to sustain pleasant conversation, Drew and Nell learned that Uncas was a sub-chief of the council and the leader of the disgruntled Mohegan faction that wanted to break the Pequot Mohegan alliance. There were rumors of an armed uprising. Sassacus took the rumors seriously, based on Uncas’s reputation. He was known as a warrior with no heart. He was unfeeling, ruthless, and ambitious. Uncas wanted to be sole chief of the Mohegans.
Sassacus didn’t stay long after dinner. He graciously thanked his hosts and returned to the woods.
“Drew, I’m frightened! What are we going to do?” Nell asked.
As they sat before the fire, Drew buried his head in her hair.
“We’ll just have to leave it in God’s hands and wait for an opportunity.”
“But he hit her!”
The Puritans (American Family Portrait #1) Page 44