“Very well, but I want you to know if Mr. Langton gives us his consent, I should like a short courtship. My plan is to post the banns as soon as we can. My mind is made up, and I do believe this is what Miss Langton desires as well. I would like to bake the wedding cake, as well as prepare most of the wedding feast. It will miff their cook to be sure, but this will occupy my thoughts and time. It will be good for Joseph and Benjamin to see their father with a purpose once again.” He said it with conviction.
“I wish you the best, Barn.” Thomas drummed his fingers on the table, but lowered his voice. “You know, we all need to be thinking about the colonies. Jane and I have been giving it hard consideration. We’re cloistered here in Mowsley, but I hear more and more of villages nearby where people are publicly whipped simply because they’re meeting in their homes, discussing teachings of the church and Bible.”
His eyes darted about the room as he continued. “I have been in talks with the Reverend Cotton. He feels more and more pressure from the church and he agrees with the Reverends Davenport and Youngs. They’re not Separatists, like those at Plymouth. They are men who desire to take the church to a new land, to rid it of the pomp. Without all of the harassment we endure here.
“My good friend William Pynchon left a few months back for the Massachusetts Bay Colony. He wanted me to accompany him, and I gave it much thought. I expect to hear news from him soon. Methinks it is time to seriously consider going to Massachusetts, to join in the planting of the church.” He took in a deep breath after his long speech.
Barnabas nodded his head. “Aye, Thomas, I more than agree. King Charles is, at the least, a tyrant. He’s been through three parliaments in a row and now rules without one. He wants absolute power. Most certainly the Queen is bringing her Catholic beliefs with her. How insulting to the people he rules that he would marry her.”
He and Thomas looked at Jeremy. Jeremy was not involved with reform of the church in any way, but he did share their interest about New England, actually the New World in general.
Jeremy looked from one brother to the other. “At least the war with Spain and France seems to have ended, but now the cost of food climbs and timber is hard to find. London needs more coal. I can tell you, the New World has thick forests and game aplenty. The ship industry is flourishing and I intend to be a part of it. I may never settle there—someone must care for our parents, of course—but I will be sailing there someday. I want to take part in the trade that is already developing.”
“Very well—I can see you do have an opinion.” Barnabas chuckled and stood. “There is much to talk about. For now, brothers, I do thank you for your support and advice.”
His brothers stood with him and the three gave each other bear hugs.
Jeremy held his shoulders. “We will be there for you, Barn. Let me know if there is anything you require of me.”
“Me as well, Barn. I will talk to Father for you, if you like.”
“He is watching the boys with Mother. They already know what is on my mind. Differences aside, we have the most wonderful parents. They both support me in my decision.”
The brothers trudged back to the house. Barnabas regarded his younger brother with one brow raised. “Have you told Father about your intentions of going to New England?”
“Nay. He need not know yet. I will wait until I have word from William. I do not know how Father will react. He takes it somewhat in stride that you and Jeremy will someday make the journey. I don’t believe he will be happy to know I intend to do the same.”
“The information will not come from me, brother. You tell him when you are ready.”
They pounded each other’s back in farewell and Barnabas mounted his horse. At least the ride home would be short.
Entering the kitchen he shrugged out of his coat and hung it with his hat on a peg. His parents sat with the boys, telling stories at the old oak table. He tousled each boy’s hair before taking a seat near Benjamin. His son’s chubby finger traced the initial Joseph had scratched into the table just a year earlier.
“Your mother saved you from a whipping that day, eh, Joseph? She scratched the heart around the J you made and told Benjamin he could do the same when he learned to write a B.”
Joseph’s eyes grew large. “Benjamin, you always try to get me in trouble.”
“Do not.”
“Do too, you baby.”
“Boys, enough. You are forgiven, Joseph. You know that. Your mother always knew the right thing to do, and she loved you very much. I pray thee, apologize to your grandparents. They do not enjoy listening to your quarrels.”
Grandmother Horton stood up as if to gather the boys under her like a hen. “Now, boys, everything is fine. We have had such fun today. Barnabas, do you have any of the ginger cakes? I think a treat is in order.”
He rose to fetch the cakes, glad to allow his mother to relieve him of his duty to discipline for the moment and noticed as she turned to Benjamin, a kind smile on her face. “Do you think you are old enough to learn a B for Benjamin?” she asked.
Wide-eyed, he sat up as tall as he could. “Yes, Grandmother, I want to.”
Barnabas returned with the cakes and took one before passing the bowl to his mother. He attempted a stern look at her. “What are you up to?”
She carefully removed a little cake for her grandsons. “Yours look even better than mine, crisp and tender.” She started with a compliment.
He cocked his head toward her. Something was coming, he knew her ways.
“I’m thinking if Benjamin may add his initial, it might bring closure to Joseph’s misdeed. I would be happy to add the heart.” She looked at her son imploringly.
“Aye. Let’s bring closure.” He nodded to his mother and turned to his father as they bent to their task. “I met with Thomas and Jeremy after I spoke to Mr. Langton. They are much in favor of my marriage to Miss Langton, but her father has yet to give his consent to court her. I expect he will, however.”
His father’s brow shot up. “Why would he not? He knows your circumstance.”
“You expect people to see things your way and fail to understand when they do not. But not everyone thinks as you do. He is very careful with his daughters and favors a more cautious approach with any decision that affects them. Miss Langton agrees to our marriage and will be a good mother to the boys. I expect he will come to see that.” He decided not to delve into the misgivings her father had toward his religious tendencies.
Joseph jumped up, nearly knocking the ginger cakes to the floor. Miss Tilly dashed from underneath the table and disappeared. “I don’t need a mother. Why didn’t you ask me and Benjamin first?” His shoulders shook.
“Joseph! This is the second time today I must tell you to watch your tongue. Go to your room. I do not want you to come back out until you are asked to do so. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Father. But Miss Langton might not wa—”
“To your room and now!”
Long after Joseph went to his room, long after his parents went home, doubt assailed him. A messenger rode in with a summons to come to the Langtons’ on the morrow. What if Joseph were right? The decision came quickly. Mayhap Miss Langton had changed her mind. It would not take her long to realize there were many men who could offer her far more than he. Men with social standing. He was but a disinherited baker.
7
January 2, 1631
Baldy stood hitched to the wagon. A second message, sent early that morning, requested Barnabas bring Joseph and Benjamin with him for a small repast at the Langtons’ following church services. Though long ago discontent with the formalities of the Church of England, Barnabas was still present every Sunday morning. To not attend would bring suspicion with serious repercussions, so he conformed. But the secret meetings held on Wednesday nights in homes, where they worshiped and studied the Bible void of the pageantry, he considered his church.
He lifted the boys into the back of the wagon. “You will like the Langtons
. You know Mistress Fanning, of course, and her son Joshua will be there today. And Mr. Langton has all manner of animals, but mostly sheep and horses.”
“Do they have babies?” Benjamin bounced as his father took a heavy blanket from beneath the seat and wrapped it around both boys.
“Hold still.” Barnabas chuckled. “Do you mean the sheep and horses? They do, though they are quite big now. Mayhap more babies in the spring. There now, are you warm enough?”
Joseph pulled the blanket higher. “Yes, Father. Do you think Joshua will want to play with me?”
“Oh, yes, I do. I think you will have a fine time.”
“I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. But, Father, I do hope you know that I’m happy with just you and Benjamin.”
He placed his large hand on the top of Joseph’s head, turning it so his son looked into his eyes. “Happy? Really? You have not acted very happy, and you have very good reason to not be so happy. That is all right, truly. But I hope to make things better for you and Benjamin. Remember to watch your manners. I do not wish to discipline you again in Miss Langton’s presence.”
Joseph rolled his eyes and Barnabas tousled his son’s thick hair.
Certainly the request to bring his family was a good sign that Mr. Langton had decided in his favor and the doubt that weighed heavy the night before lifted. He would need to make arrangements with his parents to care for the boys on the days he spent courting Mary. The good women of the town liked to talk. No, he would not be asking for their help. Mayhap his mother would come to stay with them for a time. Yet another reason for a short courtship.
After the service, he led the boys to Ann’s grave, behind the church. It sat at the top of a hill, the blue slate looking cold and bare. He wished there were flowers along the path to pick, but the blooms were long spent. Even the seedpods were empty.
He held the boys close. The slate would last through the centuries, and the words he’d carved upon it he hoped would tell generations to come of the remarkable woman he loved so much.
He loosened his grip and knelt down. Touching the stone, he remembered his promise to her. He would take care of their sons. He would.
Large, lacy snowflakes began to fall from the sky, sifting down like fluffy feathers settling about their shoulders. He brushed the white fluff from his Sunday suit and pulled the black wool doublet close. He hurried to place Joseph and Benjamin back in the wagon. Pulling the blanket tight about them, he kept them warm and safe.
Mary loved her dresses, and most days she did not have a quandary over what to wear. But Mr. Horton’s opinion mattered to her, so she pulled gown after gown from her wardrobe. Running her fingers across the fabric, she studied the garnishing trims and textures of her brocade and silks.
From the casement window she could see the gray clouds quickly moving in from the west. The air was cold and damp, a storm on the way, no doubt. The dark green wool, with a simple white linen collar, should be suitable. She preferred the delicate lace collars and shiny fabric of a satin, but she did not want to appear frivolous on this day.
In church the urge to look across to the men’s side, where she knew Mr. Horton would be sitting with his boys, nearly overcame her. But she folded her hands and kept her eyes toward Reverend Barton, though to actually listen to his sermon was just too much.
Papa had not mentioned Mr. Horton again, beyond telling her that he and his sons would be joining them after church. Lizzie gave her the details, explaining that after she went upstairs, following Mr. Horton’s visit, Papa relented and sent a message to Mr. Horton. His invitation included the baker’s sons.
As they walked home after church, Mary skipped ahead with Ruth and Joshua. As huge snowflakes began to fall from the sky, she twirled about. “Ruth . . . Joshua . . . angel’s tears!”
“That’s what Mama calls them, Aunt Mary.” Joshua looked to Ruth and she nodded in agreement.
“I know. When we were little, our mother, your grandmama, told us about the angel’s tears. She said when angels are sad, they cry great torrents of tears, and we have rain. But when they are happy, so very happy, the tears come down all fluffy and white, dancing about on the wind. An angel is crying tears of joy today, I am certain.”
She took their hands in hers and together they entered the house. Tantalizing smells greeted them, a promise of a delicious meal prepared by Cook. Mary waited for her sister, Zeke, and Papa to come in, and then ran up the stairs. She needed a moment to consider what she might say to Mr. Horton. I am honored for your consideration? Oh, no. I am pleased we shall be courting? How silly it all sounded. Perhaps she could not prepare and needed to take it a word at a time. Yes. Word by word.
She held her looking glass and pressed her lips together firmly. A cherry hue sprang up. She studied her reflection. Might he kiss her? The warmth flooded her cheeks before she saw the crimson in her reflection. Oh goodness, such thoughts! Not likely, and most certainly he would have more decorum, even if he felt so inclined. Still . . .
A commotion downstairs brought her back from her reverie and she placed the mirror on the bed table. Mr. Horton had arrived, and if she could believe the chatter reverberating up the stairwell, the children were excited to see each other. Smoothing her skirt, she started down. Halfway, Lizzie met her and the two embraced.
They descended the stairs arm in arm. Mr. Horton looked up, and as Mary arrived at the landing, he offered his hand. She took it and leaned into a slight curtsey. “Mr. Horton, ’tis a pleasant surprise to see you again so soon.”
“Ah, indeed, it is.” He gave a gentle squeeze and slowly released her hand, turning to Mr. Langton. “Thank you, sir, for asking me to bring the children. I can see how much they enjoy each other.”
“’Tis good for your boys to be involved with—ah, but I have a small sitting room off the parlor. Shall we let the ladies settle the children and we men adjourn for a chat?” He looked from Mr. Horton to Zeke, and the three retreated.
Mary looked to Lizzie. “Do you think Papa will tell Mr. Horton of his decision? Now?”
Her sister laughed. “Your eyes are as big as saucers. You are not frightened, are you? This is what you begged Father for, is it not?”
“Oh, yes. But I cannot explain what I feel inside. Hopeful and scared all at once. Do I sound silly? Is that how you felt when Zeke asked to court you?”
“’Tis not silly and yes, dear sister, ’tis exactly how I felt. And look how beautifully everything turned out.”
“You always know what to tell me, Lizzie. What would I ever do without you?” She gave her a big hug as Rachel tugged at her skirt. “Come here, little one. Let your auntie hold you.”
She tried to distract herself with the children, but her thoughts were on the men in the other room. Every time she looked at Joseph, she was reminded of how much he was like his father. He was playing well with Joshua, but she noticed he preferred to ignore her.
Lizzie nodded toward him. “Joseph is old enough that he will most likely avoid you, rather than act out, I believe. His father is strict and insists on good manners, so I don’t think he would openly be unpleasant to you.”
“Do you think he will warm to me though, in time? Perhaps after the wedding, he will relax and know that I’m nothing to be dreaded.” She wiggled her brow at her sister with a smile.
“Listen to you—you don’t even know what the men are agreeing to and you are planning the wedding. Such a headstrong girl you are. ’Tis why I love you so much, I am sure.”
Their laughter was interrupted by Cook, who announced dinner.
As everyone gathered again at the table, Mary knew she would be too excited—distressed?—to eat much. She could not tell from Papa’s or Mr. Horton’s face what the decision was, but Zeke gave it all away in his broad smile and eyes that danced. He winked at her too, when he noticed her looking at him. Why didn’t they just come right out and tell her? She certainly was half of the equation, was she not?
Papa led grace, then rose and stood b
ehind his chair. “I would like you all to know I have given Mr. Horton permission to court Mary. My daughter’s happiness and her security are most important to me, and I find that Mr. Horton can assure me that he will provide for her. Mary, my girl, you give me much joy.” His eyes watered, but he cleared his throat to continue. “Mr. Horton, please call me John.” He extended his hand.
Her heart pounded as the two men clasped hands with a shake.
“Thank you, John. And, of course, I wish you to call me Barnabas. I am honored, sir, and look forward to getting to know you and your daughter over the next weeks.” He looked at Mary, a smile creasing his face. “And so we begin.”
The afternoon stretched out as the children made a trek out to the barn with Grandpapa Langton to visit the animals. Barnabas fretted over the cold air on the children, but John assured him the barn would be warm.
Lizzie and Mary sat opposite Zeke and Barnabas next to the fire, engaging in light conversation and a bit of local gossip.
Snow accumulation mounted and goodbyes could not be delayed any longer. Mary walked with the Hortons to the door, and her family trailed behind them. Joseph made plans to see Joshua again, and Ruth had to be told once again to put Benjamin down. He wasn’t a baby anymore and too big to be carried. They all laughed as she rolled her eyes but eased him gently to the floor.
Mary handed Joseph his coat and bent to bundle Benjamin in his. As she wrapped a neck cloth about him, she told the boys her story of the snowflakes. “My mother loved the snow. She would run out and twirl when the flakes began to fall. She said when it rained, it was angels crying, but when it changed to snow, the angels smiled. The snowflakes are angels’ happy tears and they coat the world in beauty.”
Joseph raised an eyebrow. “She could have gotten sick out there in the snow.”
Barnabas turned and took her hand in his. “The snow is beautiful indeed, Mary. Your father suggests I return Tuesday, after the shop closes, for an evening of checkers or mayhap chess. Is that something you would favor?”
A Place in His Heart Page 6