Daughters of Harwood House Trilogy : Three Romances Tell the Saga of Sisters Sold into Indentured Service (9781630586140)

by Crawford, Dianna; Laity, Sally

  “But not someone who cares for them as I do. I almost think of the children as my own. Rose, Mariah—” She reached for their hands. “When Mr. Scott arrived with the offer to purchase my bond, I followed Rose’s example. I got down on my knees and prayed until I was sure of the Lord’s will for me. So when we left to come here, I made certain my return trip was already arranged.”

  “No!” Mariah sprang to her feet. “I’ve heard the men talking. By next spring the English are going to go to war with the French in earnest—and you live in a much too vulnerable area.”

  “Nate agrees,” Rose said. “Why, our Jenny’s mother and father both died at the hands of Indians who raided their farm not far from where you live.”

  Lily rolled her eyes. “Really, Rose. Those people lived at the very edge of civilization, west of the Susquehanna River. We have a blacksmith, a carpenter, a harnes maker, a metal worker, and even a pastor, of sorts.”

  “What about a fort, in case of attack?” Mariah challenged.

  “Well, we don’t have an actual fort of our own, as yet, but the men are planning to build one. The men of the cove go to Harris’s Ferry once a month to train for the militia, just as they do everywhere else. And a group of Moravians has lived among the tribe to the north of us for years, and the Indians at Shamokin have all pledged their loyalty.”

  “I don’t care about any of that.” Mariah crossed her arms. “I want you with us. I’m sure Colin would gladly send two servants to replace you. Surely the Waldons would be better served that way than by a mere slip of a girl.”

  Lily met Mariah’s concerned gaze. “As I said, I’m convinced that the Lord wants me there, and there I shall stay until He wishes me to go elsewhere.”

  “Oh, Lily,” Mariah moaned as she drew her baby sister into a hug. “If the Lord truly wants you there, then I will try my hardest to be happy for you—even if I will still worry about you.”

  Rose grunted and shifted her unwieldy body off the bed. “Speaking of happy, we won’t have a very happy groom if we don’t finish getting you ready.”

  “Quite right!” Mariah pulled them both into another embrace. “ ’Tis my wedding day!”

  “Time to go, honey.” Mariah gave a gentle push to Amy’s back.

  The child looked darling in a frilly taffeta gown of rose, a pink bow in her pale blond hair. She stepped out the front entrance on her hopefully graceful and slow parade down the veranda steps, past the many seated guests, to the wedding arbor just out of sight. From a basket on her arm, she scattered yellow and burgundy leaves along the path.

  Lovely airy music drifted from Heather’s flute up near the front as she provided accompaniment for her sisters along their way.

  Victoria had a stranglehold on Mariah’s hand. “I’m so nervous.” Her face paled despite the touch of rouge on her cheeks. “Mayhap Mother was right. She said I was too young to get married.”

  Mariah smiled. “Darling, you’ll do just fine, I promise. Dennis is probably shaking in his boots, too. Oh, that’s your cue.” She adjusted the stylish hat over the girl’s golden tresses. “Start walking—and don’t forget your bouquet by the door. And remember to take small steps.”

  Letting out a shaky breath, Tori reached for her nosegay of red roses, her hand visibly trembling. Then she put a slippered foot out the door and began her slow walk toward the arbor. Mariah watched after her, noting how fragile she looked in an exquisite gown of white lace. The full skirt trailed behind her with each hesitant step. She made a beautiful bride. She was young, that was true. But her whole life lay before her, waiting to be experienced with the young man of her dreams. And they would grow old together.

  Recognizing her own musical cue, Mariah glanced at herself in the credenza mirror. She’d donned the taffeta gown she’d worn the day she first met Colin, and though it was elegant in its own way, it would by no means upstage Tori’s. Besides, to Colin she’d always be the girl in the royal-blue gown, and this way, he would at least see her in his mind. She caught up her bouquet of white roses, then floated out the door and down the steps. The day was lovely—mild, with a mere whisper of a breeze, and fluffy white clouds scattered across a cerulean-blue sky.

  Colin was so right when he said his mother wouldn’t allow it to rain. Her lips lifted at the thought, and the smile grew as she spied Rose seated near the front with Nate and Lily. Nate bounced an enthralled Jenny Ann on his knee. Immediately across from them were Mariah’s new in-laws. They were all family now. Father God, I am so richly blessed…thank You.

  Her gaze traveled to the colorful arbor where Victoria now stood gazing worshipfully up at a grinning Tuck, handsome in dove gray, then on to the black-robed minister. But she’d saved the best for last. Her eyes found God’s precious gift to her.

  Colin stood resplendent in an embroidered satin frock coat of café au lait, with black velvet breeches and white stockings. A ruffled cravat rested just below his chin. His unseeing dark brown eyes appeared full of joy as they searched out the sound of her footsteps.

  Realizing she’d hurried her pace to reach him, she slowed it again to match the tempo of Heather’s music.

  At long last, she reached his side. When she took his hand, Colin smiled and folded hers within the crook of his elbow—always her protecting hero. He bent close, and his breath feathered her curls as he whispered in her ear. “I’ve been waiting here forever, my beautiful bride. What took you so long?”

  “I guess I had a lot of growing up to do,” she whispered back. “But I’m here now—and forevermore.” And they turned to face the minister.

  “Dearly beloved,” the Reverend Mr. Hopkins began, “we are gathered here, in the presence of God and this company, to witness the joining of this man and this woman”—he nodded toward Dennis and Victoria—“and this man and this woman”—his head turned slightly to include Colin and Mariah—“in holy matrimony.”

  Mariah raised her lashes and gazed up at Colin. His melted-chocolate eyes were so soft with love, she almost felt he could see her. Her heart crimped with bittersweet joy, and she sent a silent prayer aloft. Forgive me, Lord, for spending so much of my life in a quest for wealth above all else, when You were waiting to show me that the abiding love of a wonderful man is the true treasure beyond price.

  Discussion Questions

  1. Mariah journeyed to the colonies with her sisters, but her motivation for the trip was completely self-serving. What factors in her life may have turned her focus inward rather than outward? Does she remind you of anyone you know?

  2. Despite the advantage of having been raised in a Christian home all her life, Mariah’s faith was shallow and only on the surface. Do you think God answers prayers that come from a selfish heart? Do you believe God really hears all of your prayers? If so, why?

  3. Colin’s mother was a thorn in Mariah’s side, and she never really could relax around Cora Barclay. Have there been people in your life who required you to have an extra measure of grace? How did that turn around for you?

  4. What kinds of things from Mariah’s past actually helped her in her relationship with the Barclay family? What lessons in your past turned out to be valuable in your present life, and why?

  5. Colin was attracted to Mariah from the moment he laid eyes on her. Does physical attraction alone make for a lasting relationship? What other things should a person consider? What is the most important requirement for a Christian in choosing a life partner?

  6. Colin had also grown up in a strong spiritual environment, yet he rarely gave much thought to God until he found himself in a tough spot. Why do you suppose people so often wait for something bad to happen before they realize their need for the Lord? Do you think a person can run out of chances?

  7. Was there a particular character in Mariah’s Quest that you identified with? Why?

  8. Mariah wasn’t all bad. What were some of the characteristics in her life that were actually redeeming graces?

  9. While Colin was off with the militia, Mariah and hi
s family prayed daily for his protection and safety. Yet he received a permanent injury that changed his whole life. Why do you think God allows bad things to happen to good people? What “good” came out of Colin’s blindness for Colin and Mariah?

  10. When the future looked dark for Mariah and Colin, they found the peace that only comes from a heart that is completely surrendered to God. With their faith renewed, do you think they could have found happiness even if they hadn’t been reunited? Is there a scriptural truth for that?

  11. God sometimes works in roundabout ways to bring His purposes to pass. Why do you suppose that is? Can you pinpoint one of those mysterious miracles in your own life?

  12. Mariah and Colin found their happy ending with each other. But that doesn’t happen for everyone. How can we truly be sure God knows best?

  LILY’S PLIGHT

  DAUGHTERS OF HARWOOD HOUSE

  Book Three

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  The authors gratefully acknowledge the generous assistance provided by:

  Nathaniel Thomas MLS

  Reading Public Library

  Reading, Pennsylvania

  Sarah Annibali

  Lebanon Public Library

  Lebanon, Pennsylvania

  These individuals helped us gather necessary period data and shared their extensive knowledge of various settings used in this story. To you we express our sincere appreciation.

  Special thanks to:

  Delia Latham

  Robin Tomlinson

  Your tireless critiquing of our work in progress, together with suggestions and comments along the way, were an immense help. May the Lord bless you both.

  DEDICATION

  This book is lovingly dedicated to our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, who blessed this magnificent nation from its founding, and to our families, whose love and support makes our writing possible.

  Chapter 1

  April 1757

  Urgent barking pierced the breezy solitude of the April afternoon.

  Dropping corn seed into the freshly plowed trench, Lily Harwood sprang to her full height and whirled toward the sound, her heart pounding. Please don’t let it be Indians.

  Duke, the Waldons’ big shaggy dog, stood poised at the edge of the porch, his huge brown eyes fixed on the path leading through the woods behind the squat four-room log cabin to the wagon road. A growl rumbled from his chest, and he barked in the direction of the forest—a kaleidoscope of spring greens and pine so thick the sunlight barely penetrated the foliage to dapple the mossy, fern-covered ground.

  Lily slung the strapped seed bag to one side and pulled out the pistol weighting down the pocket of her work apron. She shrugged at the Waldon boys guiding the horse and plow. “A neighbor, most likely.” Nevertheless, she positioned herself behind the workhorse.

  Eleven-year-old Matthew laid their long musket across Smokey’s back, its flintlock cocked and ready, while Luke, nine years old, capped the horn of black powder dangling from the gray gelding’s harness.

  Lily drew a nervous breath. In the three years since the invasion from the north, no French or hostile Indians had raided farmsteads along Beaver Creek. But other families a mere twenty miles away had been brutally murdered or carried off captive. One could never be too cautious in this area of Pennsylvania.

  Still barking, Duke leaped from the porch and headed toward the path.

  Motion at the log dwelling caught Lily’s attention as towheaded Davy, the family’s irresistible four-year-old bundle of energy, bolted out the door with his sister Emma hot on his heels. The redheaded girl latched on to her little brother’s collar and yanked him back inside.

  Matt wagged his head, muttering under his breath. “The kid’s been told a hundred times not to come outside when the dog’s barkin’ like that.”

  Dragging her gaze from the path along the far side of the house, Lily glanced at her brave young helpers, both of whom had unruly hair the same light brown as their father. Freckle-faced Luke had a white-knuckled grip on his hunting knife as he peered beneath the horse’s neck, while Matt stared through the sites of the musket, his finger steady on the trigger. Lily’s heart crimped as she studied the lanky boy. Matt had a lot of his father in him…the same speculative blue eyes, the same heart-wrenching smile. Both lads looked older than their years. With their father away with the militia, they’d been forced to grow up fast.

  “Remember, you only have one shot,” she reminded Matt. “Don’t shoot unless you absolutely must.”

  A grimace tweaked the older boy’s mouth as he cut a shrewd glance her way.

  His brother gave a huff. “Wish I had a gun ‘stead o’ just a dumb knife. I can shoot good as he can.”

  Lily slanted him a half smile. “I wish you did, too.” Even more, she wished the cabin wasn’t blocking her view of the path.

  Suddenly Duke’s barking ceased. Tail wagging, he loped up the path out of sight.

  He must recognize whoever is coming. Releasing a pent-up sigh, she nodded to the boys, and they left the protection of the gelding to cut across the plowed field and greet the visitor.

  A familiar figure came into view with Duke jumping playfully on him.

  Lily’s heart stilled. “ ’Tis your father!” Her whole being warmed with relief and joy.

  But the boys had already sprinted toward him, kicking up clods of dirt in their wake. “Pa! Pa!”

  The cabin door slammed open. Out flew Emma and Davy, screaming their delight. All four children crashed into their papa and were swamped in a huge hug, laughing at once as the dog yipped and leaped in circles around them.

  John has come home again. Drinking in the glorious reunion from some distance away, Lily feasted her eyes on the man of the house, tall and muscular in the sturdy clothing he wore for military duty. Her heart contracted. If only she could run to him and be pulled into those strong arms, too…feel safe and warm and deeply loved, have those penetrating blue eyes filling her with delicious shivers. But knowing it could never be stole the joy of the moment. She was not his wife. His beloved Susan, of delicate health and quiet manner, waited inside.

  Just then, John looked across the field to Lily. He flashed a grand smile and raised a hand in a wave.

  For one heartbeat she held his gaze. Then she forced an answering smile and wave and turned before her longing eyes betrayed her. She trudged to the horse to unhitch the gelding from the plow. The Waldons would be too excited over John’s safe return to plant more seed today. As she led Smokey back to the stable, she watched the happy family go inside the cabin…to Susan. Without a doubt the sweet, bedridden woman of the house had heard the joyous racket and knew that her John had come home. Had his wife strength enough, she’d have run outside with their children to welcome her husband home with the same loving fervor as they had.

  Closing her eyes against an ache of sadness as she entered the rough-hewn stable, Lily felt her neck and shoulders sag. She rested her cheek against Smokey’s warmth. “Father, I’m in dire need of an extra measure of grace—and a proper love for each member of the Wald on family.”

  So many times over the past year she had prayed that same prayer. So many times she’d endured the same gnawing ache of hollow hope.

  A rumbling neigh from the gelding reminded her she had yet to remove his harness.

  Lily patted his muscled neck. “Yes, my mighty steed. You have needs that must be met, too.” Filling her lungs with a deep breath laced with a hefty blend of animals and hay, she reached for a buckle and unfastened it as an ironic thought surfaced.

  She could be released from her own bonds almost as easily. She only needed to contact her sister, and Mariah’s generous husband would dispatch a man at once with money to buy her freedom and escort her away from the constant threat of Indian attack, away from the tiresome care of an invalid and her children, away from looking after this frontier farmstead. She could return to her family’s loving bosom that quickly. The offer had been waiting for her acceptance for the past three
years.

  But how could she leave? She’d been a mere fourteen years of age when John Waldon had purchased her indenturement papers nearly four years ago and brought her to this cove. In that time she’d set the house to rights, harvested many a crop, and raised these children. Little Davy was but a babe in arms when she’d first arrived. As much as she struggled against feeling entitled, Lily couldn’t help thinking the children and this farm belonged as much to her as they did to Susan. More, in fact. Hadn’t she earned it all?

  And John…

  Her vision blurred behind hot tears. Angrily she sniffed and swiped them away as she hefted the heavy halter collar and hooked it onto the wall. All her life she’d been taught that coveting was a gross sin, and here she was, coveting Susan’s family yet again. “Forgive me, Father. You know I struggle against these feelings whenever John gets leave from Fort Henry. I cannot seem to help myself.”

  How strange that when he was away she managed splendidly. She loved Susan Waldon like a beloved sister. Throughout the woman’s lingering illness, Susan was so appreciative and long-suffering, who could fail to love her? She needs me here desperately. Yet I betray her kindness and trust whenever John walks in the door. A twinge of guilt snaked up Lily’s spine, and she closed her eyes. Please, please, dear Lord. Take this vile, sinful desire from me. Or find a way for me to leave this place without hurting them. Or me.

  John reveled in the sound of the children’s voices, their laughter, their hugs, though those very hugs were making it nearly impossible to crowd through the doorway into the bedroom. He ached to see his dear Susan. The gaggle of youngsters, all talking at once, burst past the doorjamb as one.

  His wife’s faint voice penetrated the bedlam. “Welcome home, my love.”

  John’s heart lurched at the sight that met his eyes. Susan sat propped up in bed, the colorful quilt surrounding her in marked contrast to the pallor of her skin. Had her cheeks been so sunken the last time he’d gotten furlough? Had there been dark circles underscoring those once vivid blue-green eyes? She looked so thin against the puffy pillows. Had she stopped eating entirely? His beautiful redheaded bride was a mere ghost of herself. But the sweet smile…that was all his beloved Susan.