Rebellious Heart

by Jody Hedlund

  “I apologize, Mr. Ross,” her father offered. “I’m sure you had no intention of tainting Susanna’s reputation. But whatever the case, now the neighbors are gossiping about this untimely trip the two of you have taken alone. So I must agree with my dear wife that you abstain from seeing Susanna again.”

  “I understand, Reverend Smith,” Ben said. “If there had been any way to avoid placing Susanna into such a compromising circumstance, I assure you I would have done my best to prevent it.”

  “We made our parameters quite clear during your last visit,” Mother cut in.

  Behind her parents’ backs, Phoebe nodded at Susanna, her level gaze admonishing her to speak up. But Susanna’s lips felt dry and hot, and her tongue seemed to stick to the roof of her mouth.

  “You did indeed make your wishes clear,” Ben said dryly. “But before I leave, I would like to hear what Susanna wants.”

  “She’ll do as we say,” Mother insisted.

  Ben shifted so that Susanna had no choice but to meet his gaze. The blue of his eyes was as clear and guileless as Mill Cove on a summer day. “If after all that has happened, you want me to walk out of your house and never come back, I’ll respect your wishes.”

  “Of course she does,” Mother insisted.

  Susanna refused to look at her mother and instead focused on Ben. His voice was soft and eased the thudding in her temples.

  “But if you desire to continue with our understanding, then I will pledge you my undying friendship.”

  The sweetness of his words filled her. And suddenly she knew she couldn’t deny him again. Never again.

  He was right. She was a grown woman. And surely there was nothing wrong with being friends with him. If her parents really knew him, they would understand what a good man he was.

  God’s laws of love and mercy and kindness had to take precedence over the prejudicial and flawed laws of man—including her parents, who were well-meaning yet clearly in the wrong about Ben.

  She took hold of Ben’s hand and entwined her fingers with his. “I do desire,” she whispered.

  A gentle smile hovered over his lips, and sunshine flitted into his eyes.

  The warm rays went straight to her heart, and she couldn’t keep from smiling in return.

  “Susanna Smith.” Mother took a step back and her hand fluttered over her chest. “I’m utterly speechless.”

  “Ben is my friend.” Susanna gripped Ben’s hand tighter. “He’s a God-fearing, compassionate, and considerate man.”

  Ben’s smile rose, smoothing the lines in his face.

  She had the sudden urge to graze the dark stubble that had formed along his jaw over his normally clean-shaven skin.

  “Benjamin Ross is a troublemaker,” Mother insisted.

  “Ben’s courageous, and he’s destined for great things because of it,” Susanna replied. If only she had half of Ben’s courage. “I’m honored that he’s willing to consider me his friend.”

  Mother opened her mouth to speak but then closed it, clearly unable to find a suitable response.

  Down the hall, Phoebe nodded, pursed her lips together into the start of a smile, and gave Susanna the kind of look that told her this time she’d done the right thing.

  Father cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose there’s any harm in allowing Susanna to maintain a friendship with Mr. Ross.”

  A flash of heat hit Susanna, sending a shimmer of pain through her head. It was followed by a tremor of chills that made her dizzy. She swayed and grabbed Ben to keep from falling.

  “Alas, I think you are ill.” Ben slipped his arm around her waist.

  “I’m merely tired,” Susanna said, but her knees gave way.

  As if from a distance, Susanna could feel Ben scoop her up. Her head lolled back, and she couldn’t keep her eyes open.

  Ben’s soothing murmurs blocked out the accusations her mother was leveling at Ben, blaming him again for Susanna’s condition.

  The odor of onions and the feel of Phoebe’s wiry, capable body pushing against hers permeated Susanna’s daze. Phoebe’s chafed hands pressed against her cheeks and then her forehead.

  “What’s wrong with her, Phoebe?” Worry echoed in every fiber of Ben’s tone and body.

  “Influenza,” Phoebe said gravely. “She’s got the influenza.”

  Chapter

  24

  Susanna thrashed in her bed, the fever raging hot then cold. Her lungs constricted, making each breath a struggle. Once when Phoebe and Mother didn’t realize she was awake, she overheard their frightened whispers, that the number of people who’d died of the influenza in Braintree had risen to seventeen.

  “I’ll set with Miss Susie awhile,” she heard Tom say to Phoebe at one point. “You go on now and get some sleep before you get sick.”

  Susanna pried her eyes open to find Phoebe hovering above her, wringing a cloth out in a basin on the bedside table.

  “There’s a good girl.” Phoebe laid the cool rag across her forehead. “Let’s get you some more of my boneset tonic.”

  The mist from a steaming pot next to the bed wafted near Susanna’s face, bringing with it the odor of camphor oil in hot water. Susanna dragged in a wheezing breath, along with the sting of onions that came from the warm poultice Phoebe had pressed against her chest.

  Susanna shifted her head to find Tom seated in a chair on one side of the four-poster bed, where the thick bed curtains had been pulled back. His eyes filled with compassion. And tears. “You stay with us now, Miss Susie.”

  She nodded and shifted her hand, stretching her fingers to him. He laid his gnarled fingers against hers. “I’m rather stubborn to die,” she whispered and tried to smile. But her lips were dry and cracked.

  Phoebe lifted a spoon to Susanna’s lips and forced a bitter liquid into her mouth. “There you go.”

  “Where’s Ben?” she asked after another painful swallow. The angle of the light in the room signaled morning.

  She’d survived the first horrible night of the illness. That was something for which to be grateful.

  “He didn’t want to go. But your mama kicked him out yesterday.” Phoebe bounded to the hearth fire and removed another pot of steaming water she had dangling from a gridiron that belonged to the kitchen.

  Susanna fought a wave of dizziness and frustration.

  “But don’t you worry none.” Phoebe returned to the bedside with the steaming pot, the scent of sassafras and rum drifting under the canopy of her bed. “It’s gonna take a pack of wolves to keep that man from coming back to see you.”

  Susanna could only pray Phoebe was right, that Mother’s disdain hadn’t driven him away.

  Phoebe draped a sheet over the steaming pot and formed a tent with it above Susanna’s face. “Breathe in the hot air. It’s gonna help you get better.”

  She tried to inhale, but each lungful was tight. The steam bathed her already hot face, plastering her loose hair to her cheeks and forehead. Underneath the coverlets, her nightdress stuck to her skin and tangled in her legs.

  “You did the right thing standing up for Mr. Ross.” Phoebe hovered above her, holding the sheet. “You made me proud.”

  Susanna couldn’t imagine any other man who would have done what Ben had—for Dotty and for her.

  “I know your mama’s a godly lady,” Phoebe continued, lowering her voice. “And she’s been a good missus—taken care of me and Tom better than a lot of owners.”

  Susanna wanted to say there was so much more Mother could be doing for them, that they deserved to be free of bondage and treated with dignity. But she knew neither Tom nor Phoebe were ready to make that fight yet. Maybe Phoebe would be someday. But Susanna couldn’t foresee a day when Tom would ever be interested in freedom.

  She supposed not everyone would be ready to take a stand against oppression, that perhaps there were those who were content to live in safety rather than liberty. But could she sit back and do nothing, as she’d done for so long, or was she waking up to the need
to fight for justice and freedom the way Ben had talked about?

  “Even if your mama is a godly woman”—Phoebe fanned the steam toward Susanna’s face—“she was wrong to stick her nose up at Mr. Ross.”

  Susanna nodded but then coughed. The spasm wracked her body and left her listless.

  Tom held her hand tightly. “If my old body can make it, then you ain’t gonna have any trouble getting better.”

  She gave him a weak smile.

  “I been praying about what you been up to,” he said, gazing tenderly upon her face. “And ever since that lieutenant came—”

  “I’m sorry,” she croaked, wanting to let him know again how much she regretted his being hurt on account of her.

  He shook his head. “Now, hear me out, Miss Susie. I still don’t know what to think about all you been doing. But I do know the good Lord’s been trying to get through my thick skull that I been letting fear take hold of me more than I should.”

  “Amen,” Phoebe said.

  “The Word says, ‘For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.’” Tom’s bent fingers gripped Susanna’s with the urgency of his words. “The good Lord don’t want us to be walking around in fear. He wants us to have courage, love our enemies, and use our minds.”

  Susanna squeezed his hand as best she could. “It’s hard not to be afraid.”

  “No matter what happens in the days to come,” he said with uncharacteristic intensity, “you can’t let fear take hold and stop you from doing the right thing.”

  His eyes held hers as if he could see into her future and the many hardships she was yet to face.

  She’d hoped the worst was over. But did God have more in store for her than she’d imagined possible?

  “I believe you got what it takes, Miss Susie. The good Lord gave you plenty of love, courage, and a bright mind. And if He gave it to you, He’s gonna expect you to use it.”

  At a shout from somewhere in the house, Phoebe straightened and frowned.

  The front door banged, reverberating against the walls of the house. Heavy stomping and more shouts followed.

  “Now, why they making such a racket?” Phoebe pursed her lips and started toward the door. “They know Miss Susie has got the influenza and needs quiet.”

  Before Phoebe could reach the door, it slammed open, revealing the bright red of a king’s soldier.

  Susanna gave a hoarse gasp.

  Lieutenant Wolfe barged into the room. His shiny black boots slapped against the hardwood floor. His saber swung at his side. And his black hat with its silver cockade glinted in the sunlight.

  “I demand that you leave this instant.” Mother bustled into the room after the lieutenant, breathless, likely having chased him through the house. “My daughter is ill and cannot receive visitors.”

  The lieutenant stopped abruptly at the foot of the bed. His eyes contained a triumphant glimmer that only served to unleash fear in Susanna’s veins.

  “You must go,” Mother said, following the lieutenant. “And if you wish to return, then you must do so when my husband is home later.”

  Lieutenant Wolfe didn’t smile. Susanna didn’t think him capable of a real smile. But his mouth had twisted into a semblance of a grin.

  Susanna’s throat pinched, making her wheeze. Something had gone wrong. Terribly wrong.

  “Lieutenant.” Mother grew more insistent. “You are not welcome here. I must demand that you leave our house at once.”

  Irritation flashed through the lieutenant’s eyes. His gloved hand touched the hilt of his saber.

  Susanna wanted to call out to Mother to be still, to remind her of all the lieutenant had done to their home the last time he’d visited. But before she could get her voice to work, the lieutenant raised his hand as though he would strike Mother.

  “No,” Susanna croaked, trying to sit up, horror pressing into her heart and giving her a surge of energy. “Please don’t hurt anyone! I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t harm them.”

  The lieutenant paused as though considering her declaration. And then with a slight smile he lowered his hand.

  Phoebe bolted to Mother and ushered her a safe distance from the lieutenant.

  “Mrs. Smith, I will not be leaving,” the lieutenant said, fixing his eyes upon Susanna again. “At least not without your daughter.”

  Tom’s chair scraped against the floor, and he fumbled to push himself upright. He positioned himself next to Susanna like a bent sentinel, ready to do battle for her.

  But the lieutenant didn’t give Tom even the barest of glances. If he recognized the man he’d nearly battered to death during his last visit, he gave no indication.

  “I’m arresting you, Miss Smith,” said Lieutenant Wolfe in his clipped tone, “for unlawfully harboring a runaway indentured servant belonging to Merchant Lovelace of Boston.”

  Mother gasped. “That’s impossible.” But even as the words left Mother’s lips, Susanna could see understanding dawning in her eyes. She was putting together all the events and clues of the past several months.

  Finally, Mother knew the truth. She wouldn’t be able to hide her involvement with Dotty any longer.

  What must Mother think of her now? Now that she’d defied her wishes regarding Ben and hidden her involvement with Dotty?

  She didn’t dare look at Mother and observe her censure.

  And now what could she do? How would she resist the lieutenant? Everything in his cocky stance said he wouldn’t hesitate to drag her from bed, haul her to Boston, and throw her in jail. And if he did, she’d surely die, given her state of illness.

  She had to do something to defend herself. “You cannot arrest me,” she said, her voice raspy. “You have no proof—”

  “I have every piece of evidence I need.” The lieutenant nodded at the window.

  The humidity and steam in the room had frozen against the cold glass, forming a layer of frost. Even so, the sunshine streamed into the room, lighting it and bringing a warmth that now felt stifling.

  “My assistant is outside guarding our prisoner.”

  Susanna’s heart stopped beating.

  “Early this morning we found the young woman hiding in the woods down by Hingham,” the lieutenant said triumphantly. “We’ve captured her, and now we’ve come to arrest you for aiding her these past weeks.”

  Mother’s face paled, and she had to grasp Phoebe to keep from crumpling to the floor.

  Susanna wished she could get out of bed and peer out the window to discover for herself if the lieutenant’s words were truthful. Had he captured Dotty? Surely not. Surely Dotty had found refuge in the hands of Ben’s friend in Hingham.

  Tom hobbled to the window. He scratched at the frost, clearing a circle that allowed him to see outside. He squinted down at the front yard for a long moment. Then he turned away from the window, his shoulders drooping.

  His slight nod confirmed that the lieutenant did indeed have Dotty.

  Susanna’s mind scrambled to find some way of escape.

  Lieutenant Wolfe took a step around the bed. He stared altogether too boldly upon the lace of her night shift showing above her coverlet.

  “You won’t be able to prove anything,” she said. “And once Mr. Ross learns you’ve come into our house again, he’ll file charges.”

  The lieutenant’s lips only rose higher. He didn’t say anything. Instead he brought his hand from behind his back and dangled something in front of her.

  Her boots. The pair she’d given to Dotty that day in the fall when she’d first met her.

  “I see you recognize these, Miss Smith.” The lieutenant’s eyes gleamed. “The Weymouth cordwainer confirmed that he had indeed fashioned these buskins for you.”

  Susanna wanted to deny the boots were hers, but her mother spoke too quickly. “Yes, those are indeed Susanna’s. Where, may I ask, did you locate them?”

  “Why don’t you ask your daughter?”

  Mother frowned
. “I thought you gave them to a poor beggar woman. . . .” Mother paused and her eyes widened.

  The lieutenant nodded. “Of course Dotty wouldn’t admit to your involvement, Miss Smith. But don’t worry. By the time I’m finished with her, she’ll confess everything.”

  “No!” Susanna cried, haunted by the memory of the young woman murdered on the beach, the bruises, the agony etched on her face, the shredded skin on her feet. “Please spare her your cruelty. I beg you.”

  Wolfe drew nearer, his boots scuffing against the floor. “You may as well come with me willingly, Miss Smith. It will be more pleasant that way. And perhaps you’ll save Dotty undue punishment.”

  Helplessness washed over Susanna. What choice did she have? When she’d first gotten involved with Dotty, she’d known the risks and the danger. And while she’d hoped for a happy ending to Dotty’s predicament, she’d been well aware that her efforts could end in disaster.

  If she didn’t go with the lieutenant, she’d only cause more problems for Dotty and possibly her family.

  The lieutenant held out a gloved hand. “Come, Miss Smith. I’m sure you don’t want to keep Dotty waiting—now that she has no shoes.”

  The clamor raging in her body smoothed into an eerie calm. Her fate was sealed. Why fight it?

  “Very well, Lieutenant.” She tried to push herself up but only got as far as her elbows before collapsing against the feather mattress.

  “You can’t take Miss Susie!” Phoebe darted away from Mother and flung herself across the room toward Susanna. “She ain’t done nothing wrong.”

  The lieutenant grabbed his saber. It rasped against the scabbard as he unsheathed it.

  “Stop!” Susanna croaked.

  After what the lieutenant had done to Tom, Susanna knew he would have no qualms about plunging his saber into Phoebe’s heart.

  Yet from the firm set of Phoebe’s lips, Susanna knew the dear woman didn’t care what the lieutenant would do to her, that she was determined to keep Susanna in bed.

  The lieutenant raised his saber and pointed it in readiness.

  With a cry Tom moved away from the window and knocked into Phoebe, pushing her out of the lieutenant’s reach.