Thorns in Eden and The Everlasting Mountains

by RITA GERLACH

  She pierced it with her fork. “You dislike the Governor?”

  Nash set down his wineglass and jabbed the beef with his knife. “The man is a bootlicker to King George. One day we will send him packing on a boat to England. Tom Johnson will be the first governor of a free Maryland.”

  “Mr. Johnson is a good man. But all of this is long in coming…if you win your revolution.” She felt a sudden tremor of dread. What would happen to them if the Glorious Cause failed?

  “The odds look slim, but we will win, God willing.”

  “But what if the Americans lose?” she said, keeping her voice low.

  “We won’t.”

  “I am worried. Can’t war be avoided?”

  “Try not to worry.”

  “I cannot help it. Men will die, women will be made widows, and children orphaned. The Sons of Liberty might hang. I’ve heard of the King’s Chief Justice, that he holds no quarter to rebel’s, and that is what you men will be branded.”

  “Yes, and proud of it.”

  “I am afraid—to lose you.” She could not eat a morsel more and sent her fork down.

  He picked up her hand and squeezed it. “Change the subject.”

  Still she looked at him anxious, picked up her fork and moved the food around on her plate. “Fine, I will talk of something else.”

  “For instance?”

  “I cannot talk about the children right now for it would make me sadder than I already am. I’ve been thinking about Maddie.”

  He looked curious. “Maddie?”

  “Yes, you remember Maddie, the woman at the plantation we passed on the way to town. You know the one the overseer mistreated.”

  “Yes, I remember. What is it you’re thinking?”

  Her eyes brightened, for she saw he was interested. Nothing would do her better than to help the bondwoman.

  “I could use help with the house and with the children…I mean our children if God should so bless us.”

  “Are those the only reasons?”

  “Could we not do for her what you did for Joab? Could we not give her a better life?”

  “Yes. If this is what you want, I’ll look into it as soon as we get back.”

  * * *

  Nash had not slept well during the night. He drifted in and out, his thoughts yanking him back awake. His mind was troubled and he thought of many things; his father’s dismal passing in a cold prison broke his heart, and his stepmother now left a widow, weighed upon his conscience. He’d written to her, pleading she leave England and come to Laurel Hill. Then there was the dawning revolution.

  He sat in the armchair beside the fire and watched Rebecah while she slept. Her breathing was even. Her hair flowed over her shoulders and down her linen chemise. The necklace he gave her hung around her throat.

  The instinct to protect and guard raced through his veins. Weary, he put his hands up to his face and rubbed his eyes. Hers fluttered open and gazed at him.

  “When we get home, there will be apples in the orchard.”

  He dropped his hands on his lap and beheld her with longing. “You’re so beautiful.”

  “My eyes are too large and my mouth too broad.”

  “I adore your eyes,” he told her, leaning over. “And your mouth…Well, you know how much I enjoy kissing it.” He brushed his lips over hers.

  “I’m glad,” Rebecah sighed. She ran her fingers through his hair.

  “War will come. Hard times are ahead.”

  “I know.”

  “I must do my duty.”

  She lowered her eyes. “I know that too.”

  “The thought of being separated from you…”

  She touched his cheek and hushed him. “You’re the bravest man I know. Just promise me, when you go, you will come back to me.”

  She threw her arms around his neck. He drew her close, and they kissed over and over, and decided to forgo breakfast.

  CHAPTER 16

  Beneath a vivid blue sky, people were filling the street. Nash and Rebecah stepped out of the inn hoping to make it to the Postmaster’s before their coach arrived. A boy had gone ahead of them fifteen minutes before with their bags.

  A cart, drawn by two white oxen came to a halt and the driver could not move the animals on due to the crowd. Unable to go out they turned back inside with startled faces.

  Nash stopped a man nearing the inn’s door. “Excuse me, sir, but why is the street so crowded today?”

  The man pressed his lips hard. “The Peggy Stewart, that’s why. It’s brought a cargo full of tea. I hope it sinks to the bottom of the bay.”

  The man poked his head inside the inn and repeated the words with a shout. Everywhere men rose to their feet and headed out the door.

  Nash put his arm around his wife and kept her from being pushed by the mob. Once safe, they headed toward the Postmaster’s. But as they turned a corner, they were drawn into the crowd, and it became difficult to stay together as they were pushed and pulled along. Had the whole town gone mad? Nash held Rebecah’s hand. He felt her fingers slip away from his. He turned back and looked across the people.

  “Rebecah!”

  The noise drowned his words to a whisper. Turning in a full circle, Rebecah stretched her hands out to him. With his body, he shielded her against the press. She turned into his arms.

  The crowd parted for the Committee to pass through. As expected some men’s faces were scarlet with anger, while a few beckoned with their hands for the people to calm themselves.

  “The matter will be dealt with in accordance with the law. Be calm, gentlemen.”

  “Remember Boston! Don’t fail Boston!”

  The crowd followed the Committee to Stewart’s house. A curtain moved in a lower window and someone demanded that Stewart come outside.

  The Committee advanced to the door and a man hammered upon it with his fist. A moment and it opened.

  Stewart pleaded with the people to be kind and reasonable. His wife was sick, and the riot outside their house would inflame her illness. He feared violence could be done to his family, and so he swore to do whatever the people asked of him.

  “You swore by signing the agreement you would abide by our boycott,” a man in leather breeches shouted. “You’ve breached that vow!”

  “Yes, you’ve broken the law, you Tory rogue!”

  “No Tory am I,” cried Stewart.

  “Then burn your ship or be hanged in front of your door.”

  In the faces of these threats, Stewart stepped forward. Rebecah buried her face against Nash’s coat when she heard the threat made Stewart’s life.

  “They cannot hang him, Jack,” she said. “Can they?”

  “In cases like this, men lose their heads, Rebecah. The whole town is against him. He has broken the law and shown disloyalty.”

  With her beside him, he plodded his way to a steppingstone. He pulled Rebecah up next to him. It was clear by the look on Stewart’s face he repented of his deed.

  “Burn your ship, Stewart,” someone shouted. “Burn The Peggy Stewart and all the tea with her!”

  With no other way out, and to spare his family, Stewart agreed and offered a public apology. He begged to be allowed to land the remaining cargo. A few levelheaded citizens agreed, but the mob leaders shouted loudest.

  “Run the Peg aground then,” Stewart ordered, “and she shall be set afire.”

  By the strain in his face, his heart was breaking for his beautiful vessel. Stewart torched his ship along jointly with his co-owners. The flames spread upon the decks and twisted like blazing vines up the rigging and masts. The sails caught, cinders floated like black snow through the breeze.

  The Peggy Stewart burned in a cloud of pitchy vapor. Smoke poured out of every crack and opening, black serpents amid spouts of orange flame.

  Nash held Rebecah close, and lifting her in his arms, he carried her through the crowd. Soon they boarded their coach and rode out of Annapolis a little shaken by the event they beheld, out to the hi
gh road leading westward toward the everlasting mountains.

  CHAPTER 17

  Winter, 1774

  Out in the frontier the fields turned golden-brown. The season arrived with thick slate skies, the air brisk and breezy. Flocks of crows speckled the bare trees. Geese flew south and mallards found refuge in the grassy banks of creeks and rivers.

  Rebecah placed a fork on the table beside a pewter plate and thought how they would explain things to Adele if word came from Heinz the children were to come to him. Weeks had gone by, and she hoped he had decided to allow them to remain at Laurel Hill.

  But what if this was a forlorn hope? It would break her heart to lose them. They had already suffered the loss of their parents.

  How can he believe it best to add to their loss by taking them away from us?

  Being sent to a man Adele did not know, to a gloomy house, and then to a school for girls, would be a frightening prospect for one so young. And Gus, being only two, would not understand. How would Heinz care for him, love him? Hire a nursemaid to keep him quiet in an upstairs room until he was old enough to send away?

  Don’t let him take them from us, Lord.

  Slamming a spoon on the table, Rebecah questioned why Karien and Gustav had to die—why in such a horrible way. Why did the children come to her and Jack, to love and care for, only to have them taken away?

  Why, God? I need an answer.

  She heard a coach pull up outside. She drew aside the curtain and watched it halt. A stout woman stepped out dressed in a heavy wool cloak and white cap.

  Rebecah dropped the curtain and headed to the door, hearing her husband’s deliberate footsteps climbing the steps. She knew then whoever this person was, Jack was not happy she had arrived.

  She’s come for the children.

  She went to the children and gathered them into her arms. Holding them tight, she whispered to them how much she loved them. “I always will.”

  “Joab!” Nash stormed inside. The door slammed against the wall. Behind him stood the woman.

  Joab rushed into the room.

  “Joab,” said Nash softer. “Bring this woman a mug of warm cider.”

  “Patterson is my name,” she said with a proud lift of her double chin. “Never mind the cider. I must be on my way. My employer’s instructions, you see.”

  She handed him a letter and he broke open the zeal. Dreading its contents, Rebecah watched him. His jaw tightened, and in his eyes, she saw the disappointment rise. Then he handed it to her.

  Dear Mr. and Mrs. Nash,

  I’ve spoken with my priest, and he has counseled me in what I believe to be the most honorable path in which I should take on behalf of my sister’s children. My heart and mind have been convicted. I mean to take the children to the homeland of their parents. My intention is to quit the Colonies and return home where I am the most prosperous. I have a large house outside of Hamburg in the country.

  My family connections have the highest of reputations. It is important the children be with me, their uncle, their grandparents and other relations who have never seen them. I can assure you they shall be well provided for and loved, and I shall employ a governess for Adele and a nurse for Gustav.

  You have my thanks for the care you have provided my niece and nephew. I shall in the future write so you may know how well they are.

  Your Servant,

  Heinz

  Patterson arched one brow and fixed her eyes on Adele and Gus. She dismissed Rebecah completely.

  “These are the children?”

  Adele hid her face. Rebecah kept her close. “You will be gentle with them, madam.”

  “Of course I will. You are Mrs. Nash, I presume.”

  “Yes.” Rebecah stood, but kept the children at her side.

  “We have a visitor, children. Say hello to Mrs. Patterson.” She knelt in front of them.

  Peeking up at Patterson, Adele frowned. “I don’t want to.”

  “Mrs. Patterson has been sent by your uncle.”

  Patterson stepped forward. Her shadow fell over Gus and he began to whimper.

  “They don’t need to acknowledge me, Mrs. Nash. I hope you prepared them to leave.”

  “We did not know you would be coming for them. Mr. Heinz promised to send us word first.”

  Patterson leaned down. “Little girl, you and your brother will have fine clothes, new toys and books, and you will go to school. I also have sweets inside the coach for our journey. Now you’d like that surely.”

  “I don’t want to go. I want to stay here.”

  “Perhaps you can visit sometime.”

  “I want my mama.”

  Rebecah embraced her. “Your mama is in Heaven, dear.”

  “Oh,” Adele stammered. She pressed her lips into a pout. “Must we go?”

  “For now, my darling.”

  “Can we come back?”

  “Captain Nash and I will always welcome you and Gus. Someday you can visit us.”

  The coachman knocked at the door. Rebecah fought back tears.

  “We mustn’t forget your new doll, Adele. She shall have a wonderful time riding in a coach. There will be so much to see.”

  “Like what?”

  “Oh, deer and foxes. Come, let’s go pack.”

  She took Rebecah’s hand.

  Upstairs Adele picked up her doll from off the bed; her slim arms, white and soft as lilies, went around Rebecah’s neck. She wept and Rebecah drew her close.

  “I don’t want you and Gus to go, Adele. You know that don’t you?”

  Adele nodded.

  “Your uncle is you guardian. He is in charge now, and it would be right to obey him.”

  “Why is he my guardian?”

  “Because he is your mama’s brother.”

  “I want Mama and Papa.”

  “I know.” Rebecah brought Adele forward and brushed away her tears. “I’m an orphan just like you and Gus. I was frightened too. But it turned out alright.”

  She felt a shadow fall behind her and turned to see Nash in the doorway with Gus in his arms. “Patterson wants to leave.”

  Outside clouds were building to the north and Rebecah feared it would rain. The roads would get muddy. The coachman turned up his collar against the wind and wound tighter the reins to steady the horses. Nash squatted down to Adele. She threw her arms around him, squeezed hard, and rubbed her cheek against his. Patterson tried to pull her away. Adele struggled. She broke free and rushed to Rebecah.

  “Come, child.” Patterson huffed and looked discouraged by the Adele’s aversion. “The day wears on. Mrs. Nash, do something!”

  Joab shoved his hands in his pockets. “Lord. Lord.”

  Adele weakened under Nash’s touch. He picked her up and carried her to the coach. Patterson opened the door and he put her inside next to Gus.

  He turned to Patterson. “You must take good care the children while on the journey.”

  “I’m a nursemaid. I know what to do.”

  “You must keep them warm, keep their shoes dry, and see to it they are well fed.”

  “I will, certainly.”

  “And you must stay out of any taverns along the way. If anything were to happen, I’ll hold you responsible.”

  “I resent your insinuation that I am ignorant of the dangers of travel. The children will be safe with me, and the coachmen go armed, sir.”

  “I hope so. As much as I’d like to change things, I cannot.”

  Patterson climbed inside and shut the coach door. “I’m only obeying orders.”

  “Perhaps I should ride with you as far as the Monocacy.”

  “There’s no need.”

  The driver shook the reins and the horses moved forward, turning the coach out onto the road. Nash put his arms around Rebecah. With her face wet with tears, she raised her hand to say farewell. For as long as she lived, she would never forget that day, a day not unlike the time her uncle sent her cousin Hugh away. It would never happen to any of her children.
>
  The coach rumbled down the lane and disappeared from view. But not before a tiny hand waved out the window and a slave in a faded calico dress stepped off the roadside to let it pass.

  CHAPTER 18

  Rebecah finished the last few stitches in the shirt she was making her husband. She heard a horse neigh, and going to the window, she looked out to see a rider hand down a message to Maddie, turn his mount and ride off.

  “The man said it were urgent, Miss Rebecah,” Maddie said as she hurried into the sitting room.

  “It’s from Mr. Boyd.” Rebecah tore the letter open. “Fever has stricken several families. The Cottonwoods are down with it. The three youngest have come through and are living in the servant’s quarters. The Smiths, the Carnes, several of the Johnson slaves, and a few refugees are afflicted. Now his daughter is ill and he is distracted with worry.”

  Maddie clicked her tongue. “Poor Miss Theresa. I wonder what the doctor is doing to help.”

  “Mr. Boyd says the doctor has given up hope of saving her.”

  Rebecah felt panicked. This could not happen to one so young, one in love with life—her friend.

  “I must go to them.”

  “Snow is coming.”

  “I have no fear of snow,” Rebecah said.

  Maddie took a step forward. “I’m coming with you. I’m a good nurse and you’ll need my help.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’ve nursed plenty of sick folk in my time. I know what to do—know more than most doctors ‘bout fevers and childbearing.”

  “I would be grateful if you came with me. Fetch your cloak. Joab can saddle my horse. But we will have to ride together.”

  “Not to worry. My old bones can take it.” And off Maddie went, calling for Joab as she passed out into the hallway.

  Joab came through the doorway with a load of firewood in his arms. “What’s Maddie squawking about?”

  “Maddie and I are going into town to inquire after Miss Theresa. We may be there quite a while. I know the cold aches your joints. But would you go out and saddle my mare?”

  “You don’t need me to come with you?” He set the firewood down.