Mark was struggling with his load.
Heather shook her head. “Are you sure that you do not want me to carry the catch? Your basket must be getting mighty heavy.”
“No, I want to.” He panted, carrying his scaly treasures.
“Well, set them down on the porch.” She handed Mary the basket of berries. “I need to gut and clean these fish before I can get to the sewing. If you want to work on your sampler, you may want to bring it to the porch in case you need any help.”
Mary nodded and went inside to retrieve her work.
“Mark, please go see if we need to get more water for the troughs.” She reached down and kissed Mark’s dark curls, enjoying the closeness their relationship afforded.
He smiled and bounded off.
When the fish were prepared, she and Mary went inside and sat at the table with their sewing projects.
“This stitch, Heather, it does not seem right. I cannot remember where I am supposed to put the needle.”
She set aside the blue dress she was sewing for Mary and studied the stitches. “It is fine, dear. You just left one stitch out. The chain stitches are beautiful. It takes time to learn and be more confident about your work, but with practice, you will embroider beautifully. It took me a long time to make my first sampler. I remember how jealous I was when Eileen did hers so quickly.”
Mary’s face brimmed with curiosity. “How old was Eileen when she made her first sampler?”
She picked up the dress and continued sewing at the seam. “Let me see ... I suppose that she was about six. It was shortly before our mother died.”
Mary’s eyes were inquisitive, and her head tilted toward her. “You said that she was pretty. What was she like?”
“Aye, Eileen was bonny, with long blonde curls. She loved to laugh and have a good time.” Lowering the blue dress to her lap, she leaned back against the wooden slats of the oak chair, while memories of Eileen came flooding back.
“Does she have any children?” Mary glanced up from her sampler, waiting for her to continue.
“Nay. I do not believe she has any wee ones.” Sadness filled her for a moment. “Say, you told me that you wanted to make a cobbler with the berries. If so, you had best be washing them.”
“Yes, ma’am. But will you tell me more about Eileen?” Mary put her embroidery aside and got up to see to the berries.
“Aye, we shall talk more about Eileen later.” Heather picked up her sewing again, but her mind remained on Eileen, an ocean apart, a lifetime away. Neither of them had lived up to Mother’s hopes. They were sisters but never friends. They were so different in nature, and they resented each other. Perhaps, as women, they would have learned to be less judgmental, instead of always wanting to change each other. It was easy to be jealous of her sister’s carefree spirit. She had been unforgiving when Eileen made her tasks more cumbersome. Now she had so many regrets.
Mary returned to the table when she had finished washing the berries. “Heather, tell me more about Eileen. Where is Eileen now? Does she live in Scotland in a fine house?”
Mark returned and hovered around the table too.
“I have no idea, Mary. She was married to a seaman, and for a while lived in St. Andrews, in Scotland. They were married when she was but fifteen, quite young.”
Mary frowned. “Mark, no more berries for you. These are meant for the cobbler.” She walked back to the worktable and pulled the bowl out of his reach. “Many girls marry at that age here. That is not young.”
“It may not sound young to you, but I do not think Eileen was ready to settle down and take on the responsibilities of being a wife. And it was painful the way she went, without our father’s blessing.”
“Does she sail with her husband to many fine places?” Mary sounded intrigued.
Heather set her sewing aside to help prepare the cobbler. “Nay. I believe she sees very little of him. I do not believe Eileen has had an easy life.” She prepared the batter for the cobbler.
Mary focused on the berry mixture she poured into the baking dish, but her interest seemed to be all about Eileen. “Was your father very angry? Did he forgive her?”
“He was angry, and I am not sure about his forgiving her. You see, it was right after she ran off that he became ill. We did not see much of her, only a visit now and then.”
“I wish I had a little sister.”
“Well, I think you are fortunate to have this wee fellow, but I am afraid that he is going to turn into a berry himself if he does not stop nibbling them.”
Once the cobbler was baking on the hearth, they returned to the porch, but the children were too full of energy to sit still for any quiet activity, so they set about a game of hide-and-seek.
Heather watched from where she sat and continued working on Mary’s new dress, while her mind kept returning to Eileen. Perhaps if Mother had lived, Eileen’s life would have taken a different path. Her sister never abided with restrictions placed on her while she was home, or even after she left. Perhaps if the baby she carried had lived, or if she had been able to have more children, her restless spirit would have been quelled.
Eileen, I am so sorry for all the times I failed you. I should have been more understanding, loved you more and resented you less. I was wrong. Wherever you are, I hope you can forgive your imperfect sister and find peace and happiness.
CHAPTER 17
The following Monday, everyone at the Stewart household was up earlier than usual. It had been decided the day before, at their church service, that Tuesday would be the day for the Taylor barn raising.
“Mary? Mary? Mark? Where are you?” Heather took the last of the laundry off the privet hedge. The children appeared around the corner of the house. “Oh, there you are. Listen, once these clothes are in the house, we can go down to the pond for a bit. You must bathe today so we can get an early start tomorrow for the Taylors’ barn raising.”
“Do we really need a bath?” Mary put her hands on her hips. “I am not dirty.”
“You certainly do need a bath, and you need to wash your hair also. We shall be seeing many of the neighbors, so you want to look your best.”
The squawking of several chickens in the yard distracted her. Mark was laughing and chasing one of the smaller ones.
Mary would not give up. “Sounds to me as though we shall get dirty all over again if we are building a barn.”
She chuckled. “Your father tells me it is the men and older boys who will build the barn. The women, girls, and young children shall have far lighter tasks. We shall help by getting the food set up and served and making sure the men have plenty to drink. I have never been to a barn raising so I may be wrong, but I believe it is a social time as much as a time to work. You might want to bring your sampler to work on, as your father said the women do handwork while they visit. But you may be too busy with the other children.”
“Well, if I must.” Mary followed her back to the cottage. “Are you going to take a bath?”
“Certainly, but not until later, when I have gotten more of the baking done.” She walked over to the hearth and took a peek at some of the cornbread baking in a skillet and beans simmering in a large iron pot.
“Is there anything I can make to take along?” Mary reached for the bowl of fruit on the table.
“That would be a fine thing if you would like to help. A couple of pies would be nice.”
Once the needed kitchen duties were completed, they walked down to the pond so the children could wash. It was a refreshing break, and it took as much effort to get the children out of the water as it had taken to talk them into it.
Back at the house, Mary sat on the bench drying her hair. “Will the Whitcombs be at the Taylors’ tomorrow?”
Mark pulled up his stockings. “I hope so. I want to play with Teddy.”
“Your father said they would probably be there.” Heather bit her lip as she helped Mark put on his breeches. She dreaded encountering Hannah’s sharp tongue and tendency to
gossip. She tied Mary’s stays around her shift. “We have the baking to finish and the garden to tend to yet this afternoon. There are beans and squash ready to pick.”
“I will pick the beans.” Mark smoothed back his hair, tying it into a club.
“Aye, but this time, only the biggest ones, Mark.”
The rest of the day sped by. Matthew had taken food out to the field for his midday meal, so Heather and the children had more time to finish all that needed to be done to prepare for the barn raising. When he returned to the cabin early in the evening, the children were already anticipating the following day’s activities.
Matthew bent over the table sniffing at the beans. “That smells wonderful. You have had a busy day here, I see.”
The warm, exciting sensation that filled Heather when he brushed by was immediately replaced by remorse. He cares nothing for me. Like the rest of us, he is enthused about tomorrow’s festivities. She wondered when he would give her more details about the release from her indenture.
“It is for tomorrow. Would you like some now for supper?”
“Yes, and some of the cornbread please.” He walked over to the table where Mary was perusing the primer, while Heather dished up his meal. “How are you, young lady? What kind of day did you have?”
“A nice day, Papa, except we had to have baths. I helped Heather make berry cobblers and worked in the garden. I am going to wear my new blue frock tomorrow and have a fine time.”
Caught up in the child’s exuberance, Matthew smiled and pulled at a strand of hair hanging down from her cap.
“I will remember that tomorrow, as I am splitting logs, or trying to lift and mortar them into place in the hot sun, and think about what a fine time I am having.”
“Oh, Papa.” Mary giggled.
“It shall be a pleasant day.” He smiled. “With everyone joining in, the barn will go up in no time. We all help each other out when there is a need, and besides that, this is a time for neighbors to gather and spend time together. I suspect the biggest challenge will be dragging you and Mark away when the day is done.”
Her work completed, Heather got up from the table and headed toward her room. “I am going out for a while. I shall be back before it is time to put the children to bed—before dark.”
“Where did you plan to take your walk?”
“To the pond.” Does he think I would run away?
“I will finish up in the barn while you do that. We shall see you later.”
“Aye.”
She left the cottage, carrying soap and her clean clothes wrapped in a cotton cloth. She passed by the barn and saw the three totally absorbed in caring for the animals.
The lack of privacy made her anxious about bathing in the pond. She quickly waded in up to her neck. The cool water felt good against her warm skin. The barn raising tomorrow might be a good day for all of them. The children would enjoy it, and perhaps she would find friends like Amelia Turner among the other women present. She lathered her hair and dunked under the water. Rinsing her head a final time, she began checking off a list in her head of all she wanted to do to get ready for the next day. It was growing dark—time to dry off and get dressed. A sound in the nearby bushes startled her.
“How is the water? Inviting?” Matthew’s teasing tone was unmistakable.
The chill of the pond was nothing compared to the one that traveled up her spine upon hearing his amused voice. Turning her head quickly in his direction, she was thankful it was dusk and that she was still in the water up to her shoulders. He knew she planned to come here to bathe. What mischief was in his head?
“Were you searching for me?” She could play his game.
Matthew fought the impulse to grin. “Yes, I was. You sounded unsettled when you said you were going for a walk. I wanted to make sure you were safe.” It was a relief to be merry, after the tension that had prevailed between them for so many days. “Honestly, I was not expecting to encounter a water nymph this evening.”
“Mr.—Matthew, did you think I was trying to escape? I believe you promised me my freedom.”
Heather’s comment was a painful reminder of her romantic interlude with Thorpe. His intention to cancel her indenture was a thorn in his flesh. He needed to let her go but hated the thought of losing her. “Your point is well made, Heather. Would patience be one of your virtues?”
“I was not aware you thought I had any virtues.”
That stung. He sat down not far from her pile of clothes. “You are not without certain charms.” He leaned back against the trunk of a nearby tree and focused on the path. He avoided looking at her. His intent was not to embarrass her. “Your virtues ... let me see. You have done a fine job caring for the children and teaching them. The laundry and the house are kept clean. Mary is warming up to you, as difficult as it might be for her to admit it. Hmm, what else? You do not hesitate to take on new challenges, like seeing to the chickens, both alive and deceased, and tending the garden. You have been a willing worker and a good cook. So, as you see, Heather, I am acquainted with some of your attributes.”
She was still up to her chin in the water when she caught him glancing her way. “Well, Mr. Stewart, as much as I would like to remain here and listen to you recite my praises, I am getting a wee bit cold, so I would be much obliged if we continued this conversation back at the cottage.”
“We can do that. Allow me to assist you.” He wished their repartee had not come to an end. He picked up the cotton wrap she had brought to dry herself. He stood and held it up as a screen.
“Nay. That is not what I had in mind. Be on your way, and I will follow soon. Should you be leaving the wee ones alone this long at night?”
“Ah, true. Yes, I will go back now.” He got up and walked a few steps, but not before turning his head and grinning at her. “Do not dally. You will want to watch out for snakes. They get more active this time of night since it is when they hunt. And they are more difficult to see.”
“Oh, my!”
He laughed and headed back toward the cottage. If only their relationship could be as lighthearted as it was tonight. He still needed to find a way to secure Heather’s freedom, but his inclination was to stall. He was in no hurry to see her go.
Snakes? Gingerly, Heather stepped from the cold water, then quickly dried herself and dressed. She flinched at every sound. He seemed to take a great deal of pleasure in vexing her. Hmm, snakes. Her eyes darted about, scanning the ground around her all the while. She wasted no time gathering her things, and then headed home with a brisk stride.
Matthew Stewart applied the charm when it suited him. He made it quite plain that he enjoyed their verbal sparring immensely. Well, if he was in a mood to tease her, it was an improvement over the days of being reserved with each other.
Once the children were in bed, she would retire. She’d let him humor himself all he wanted—by himself. With the cotton cloth now wrapped around her wet hair, she cautiously walked back the rest of the way to the cottage. She wanted no encounters with snakes.
The next morning, everyone prepared for the outing with great excitement. Mary was delighted to be wearing her new dress. Heather decided she would also wear something new, the other gown that Maggie had given to her. Heather left her room, carrying the straw hat for Mary.
“I trimmed your hat with this blue ribbon. It is about the same shade as your dress.”
Mary studied her with an odd expression on her face.
“What is the matter, child? Do you not like it?”
Mary’s eyes appeared glazed when she answered. “Nothing ... Nothing is the matter. I do like it. Thank you. Please tie it on for me.”
“Certainly. And I must say, you are lovely in your new frock, Mary.”
By nine, the wagon was loaded with the remaining tools and provisions. Matthew lifted the children into the back of the wagon before assisting Heather. Once seated, his glance at her was perplexing. Had she not dressed correctly for a picnic and barn raising? She st
raightened the skirt of her petticoat and retied her straw hat. There was no understanding the enigmatic expression on his face.
The children chattered the entire time it took to ride to the Taylors’ in the late-summer sunshine. Many of the neighbors had already arrived when they pulled up in their wagon. Once stopped, Heather helped Matthew unload it. Mark toted the cornbread, and Mary carried one of the jugs of cider. When the food was deposited on a nearby table, the children stood back shyly, surveying the crowd. They were obviously searching for familiar faces.
As the Stewarts approached the gathering of neighbors, George Whitcomb and a man with very red hair came over to greet them.
“Matthew, ‘tis good to see you.” The red-haired man grabbed Matthew’s arm and slapped his back in a genial greeting.
“You also, Samuel, and it is good to see you, George.” Matthew turned toward the younger man. “Samuel, it must please you to see such a turnout. We should be able to complete it today.”
“Yes, and we are blessed to have the weather cooperate.” The tall redhead glanced at her.
With his arm resting lightly on her back, Matthew drew her into the circle. “I do not believe you have met my wife, Heather, and you have not seen my children, Mary and Mark, in a long while.”
Samuel nodded to her. “Caroline and I are so grateful that you all joined us here today. Oh, here she is now.” He walked over to the woman approaching. “Caroline, this is Matthew’s wife, Heather, and you remember Mary and Mark.”
“Of course I do. It is a pleasure meeting you, Heather. We were told Matthew had remarried. They said you were lovely, and I can see it was no exaggeration.”
Embarrassed by the compliment, she curtsied.
A Heart Set Free Page 15