Mosh sat close and watched for Joshua’s return.
She wondered if his going to the door was a worse idea. She listened to Jeremy’s surprised “hello” and to Lizzie greeting him, too. She could hear the amusement in her friend’s tone. No doubt she enjoyed seeing Jeremy and Joshua together under her roof.
Finally, both men came into the kitchen.
“Jeremy, we were about to have some of Lizzie’s lemonade. Would you like some?” She nodded to the slipware jug on the counter. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
He strode quickly to her cupboards, finding the mugs without effort. “I can see that. Lemonade for everyone?”
He was upset, she could see that. “Yes, Jeremy. And I know you are wondering why Joshua is here. I was out on the porch and he happened by, and I invited him in for a cool drink.”
Jeremy poured two glasses and set one on the table for Patience and handed the other to Joshua. “You needn’t explain.”
Joshua waved the mug away. “No, thank you. I really must go.” He nodded to Patience. “I’m glad to see you are better. If you decide you’d like to go to market on the morrow, have Lizzie get word to me.”
“Thank you. I shall.” She looked up at Jeremy as Joshua left. “Why are you here?”
“I’m asking myself the same question right now.” His jaw clenched several times, and he rubbed his chin before he continued. “But I had a talk with Harry last night, and he got me to thinking I’d behaved rather like a fool. I have to say, I now feel even more foolish.”
“Joshua is a friend, Jeremy. There’s no reason to feel foolish on his account.”
He rolled those green eyes of his and sat down opposite her at the table. Mosh finally left her side and sat next to Jeremy. He leaned down to pet the wolf-dog. “I came here to tell you something, and I’ve not gotten off to a very good start. Patience, I love you dearly. You mean more to me than sailing, than that ship, and than anything else on this earth. I want you to marry me, and if you insist it be tomorrow, I will do it.”
She folded her hands as if in prayer and stared at him for a moment. “I’m stunned. You would do that for me?”
“Yes. It was all I could think about last night. I prayed and prayed. And now I’m here.”
She’d promised herself she was done with him and the hurt he’d caused. But if he really meant he was putting her first from now on, she wanted that. She loved him so, and she wanted this to work. “You’d be willing to give up building the ship for me?” She saw pain in his eyes as he nodded. “I couldn’t let you do that, because it seems I love you, too. Do you really think you and Harry could finish the ship by fall?”
“I do.”
“Then build it. Help Harry. You know I will wait for you. I’m hopeless, am I not?” She smiled at him, and he smiled back.
He stood and pulled her to her feet. “You are not. Mayhap I am. Are you certain you want me to concentrate on the ship and we’ll marry in the fall?”
“Yes, I’m certain.” She nestled close to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, her cheek resting on his chest. “I shan’t press you anymore. Do what you need to do with Harry and then let’s have a wedding. Something tells me Harry will march you to the church himself by then.”
He ran his fingers over the ivory combs in her hair and then the back of her neck, and she looked up as his lips found hers. She didn’t want to tell him how horrid her night had been. And how she’d prayed and prayed. Here he was, and she was glad. They were meant to be, she was sure.
33
August 29, 1665
Southold
The summer wore on as slow as clouds on a windless day and had been one of the hottest Patience could remember. She donned a cream-colored linen—her lightest-weight garden frock—and her straw hat to venture into her flower garden in the early morning. She layered an apron over her dress and filled the pockets with her implements—a small spade and shovel—and went to attack the weeds with Mosh at her heels.
The shade of the white oaks and silver maples did not afford enough relief for the lobelia—its tall blue spikes had withered—nor the usually whimsical anemone with its puffy seed heads. Only the yellow horsemint and purple aster blooms seemed to survive the parched heat.
She lowered a bucket down the well, thankful she no longer hauled water from the stream, though her ankle was long since healed. She let Mosh drink from it before she carried it to her thirsty flowers. With the beds damp, she laid a worn-out quilt on the ground and kneeled to work the soil, pulling out weeds that did not protest. Even the most tenacious were weary from the heat.
Harry’s ship was almost complete. Jeremy and Benjamin toiled long hours, and occasionally she went out to see their progress. But mostly they behaved as if it was a big secret. To be sure, they wanted to surprise her when it was done.
She stood and looked at the sundial. It was nine o’clock, and she hurried to brush the dirt from her hands, happy in the knowledge that the ship would soon be finished. The wedding had been planned and planned again, and if they had much more time she was quite certain they would find something to change. But the one constant that remained was her beautiful dress. She longed for the day she would wear it.
Inside, she changed her apron, and then she and Mosh left to help Mary and Lizzie with the baking. In the heat of summer, baking was done outdoors. Bread consumption did not go down during the summer. Indeed, the men and women worked hard in the fields, and bread was important to keep them nourished. Heavy, hot meals were avoided, and light, cool meals of fruits, vegetables, cheese, and bread were enjoyed. There might be a pottage simmering indoors, but the beehive oven kept the hottest heat outdoors.
Patience walked around to Mary’s kitchen door and found Mary and Lizzie in the backyard, checking the ash in the beehive. “I see I am just in time.”
Mary looked up. “It’s not quite ready yet. I imagine the men will be coming up from the field soon for dinner, but I think we have time to sip some cool lemonade.” She led the way into the kitchen. Lizzie helped her pour, and she added some fresh sprigs of mint to the cups.
“Where are Anna and Abbey? And the girls?” Patience peered down the hallway before she sat down.
“Oh, Anna wanted to get her house ready for when Benjamin comes home. Abbey took Sarah and Hannah to help her. Benjamin talks of moving the house out by the Corchaug fort, and she wants it ready for that.”
Lizzie looked at Mary with a puzzled expression. “I thought Joseph and Jane will stay with them when they come home for the wedding.”
Mary nodded. “They will. It will take some time to move the house. Benjamin won’t start it until after Patience and Jeremy wed.”
Patience sighed. “Oh good, then perhaps Benjamin shall urge Jeremy to get married soon.” They laughed, and each took a sip of her lemonade. “And where are the little girls?”
Mary fanned her face with her hand. “Misha took them down to the water. ’Tis too hot for them.”
“Have you been out to see the ship lately?” Lizzie wiggled her eyebrows.
“Yes, and he’s beautiful. I mean she—ships are shes, correct?”
They all twittered. “You meant Jeremy is beautiful, of course, and he is,” Mary said between giggles. “And most ships are shes, I think. And she is beautiful, too.”
Patience felt a warmth wash over her cheeks.
The men began traipsing into the kitchen, and the women stood to give them a place at the old oak table. They’d washed in the barn, which Patience knew made Mary happy, and now they eagerly awaited some dinner.
“Heigh-ho.” Barnabas kissed Mary on the cheek and then took his seat. He nodded to Patience. “And why are your cheeks so red?”
Lizzie started the giggles again. “She is aflame with love.”
Caleb, Joshua, and Jonathan all reddened at that and elbowed one another. Barnabas gave them a look and cleared his throat. “Very well, I suppose we shall all be glad when this wedding is over—most of all y
ou, Patience, eh?”
She nodded. “And you should tell Jeremy that.”
He chortled. “I shall. Now, let us say a blessing.” They joined hands.
Patience and Lizzie helped Mary put cheese and loaves of bread on the table. They served baskets of blackberries and beach plums, and while the fruits were not as plump as previous years, they still were sweet and tasty. Platters of last year’s pickled carrots and cucumbers completed the meal.
Mary put her hands on her hips. “There is a little pottage left from yesterday, if any of you want it.”
Misha came in with Mercy and Little Mary. Sand-studded sweat trickled down their temples. Patience took a damp cloth and wiped their faces first, then their hands, and helped them to their seats.
“There’s my girls,” Barnabas said. “Methinks you are ready for a nap after dinner?”
They shook their heads no, but Misha smiled and nodded. “Up they go after something to eat.”
The talk was lively, and most of it centered on the soaring heat and lack of rain. The damage to the crops could be considerable. Captain Johnny Youngs had trained the troop as a bucket brigade, and they delivered buckets of water to the fields as they stood ready for a fire that could destroy their homes and shops.
At length, Barnabas stood. “Well, men, as much as we’d like to stay here and visit with the ladies, it’s time we get back to work.” He kissed the top of Mary’s head and led his sons out the door.
Mary jumped up. “If that oven was not ready before, it must be white-hot now.”
Lizzie and Patience followed her out the door, and they all strained to look inside. The walls of the beehive were pure white.
Patience picked up the rake and started pulling what remained of the ash. “We should get those loaves in now. Good thing they weren’t already baking—they’d be charcoal.”
As the bread baked, they cleaned the kitchen, and with the table wiped down and the bread cooling, they welcomed several of the ladies from town for a quilting circle. The quilt would be given to Patience as a gift, and each lady present signed her square. Most of the ladies could sign their names, even if they didn’t know how to write, and Mary signed for the ones who could not.
Much discussion was made of whether Patience should sign her name “Patience Terry” or “Patience Horton.” Patience was adamant. “I will be receiving the finished quilt as Patience Horton, so that is how I shall sign my name.” Truly, she wanted to just sign it “Mrs. Horton”—so much she desired that name—but all of the other ladies were using their Christian name, so she bit her tongue and realized as she signed that it was still very satisfying.
After they had written their names, they settled back with their needles and thread and embroidered over the ink. Hers would be the center square, and this would be a quilt to cherish always. She could not help but look up from time to time and study each woman’s face, so intent upon their work. Some of these ladies she saw only at church or occasionally in Lizzie’s Hat Shop. But seeing them here today reminded her of something Mary liked to say. “Good friends are like the stars. Near or far, they twinkle for you.”
They were still sewing when they heard the men come back in through the kitchen. Mary looked up as Barnabas entered the parlor. “Are you early or have we lost our sense of time?”
“Reverend Youngs came out with a message intended for Jeremy but which has import for us, as well.” Lines etched his forehead, and his shoulders sagged as he rubbed his hands together.
Patience put her sewing in her lap.
“There’s been a massive fire at the Horton estate at Mowsley.” He dropped his arms to his sides. “We don’t know how many died in the fire as of yet, but the word is that there has been great devastation.”
Mary rushed to his side. “Barney, I am so sorry. Does Jeremy know yet?”
“Reverend Youngs is on his way to tell him.”
Patience stood, her hands clasped but her fingers shaking. “Do you think Jeremy shall come back with Reverend Youngs?”
Barnabas shook his head. “That’s hard to say. There’s not much we can do from here, except to wait for further word, perhaps.”
Mrs. Wells gathered her needlework. “I am so sorry, Barnabas. We should be leaving, to give you time to sort through this.” She turned to Mary and Patience. “It was a lovely afternoon. I hope we do this again.”
All of the ladies followed her out with their own apologies, except for Lizzie and Patience, who sat in the parlor with Barnabas and Mary.
Patience wanted to be helpful. “Shall I put something for supper on the table?”
“Nay, not for me.” Barnabas looked at Mary and Lizzie. “Are you hungry?”
“I am not. Prithee, Patience, could you put out bowls of the pottage for Caleb and Joshua and Jonathan? The girls may have some bread and cheese. There is a ham in the larder. They could have some of that.”
“I can do that.” Patience went to the kitchen and tried to keep up banter with the children, but they fell quiet and watched her work with wide eyes. When they sat and ate, she kissed the girls and patted the boys. “Everything shall be all right. We are just a little disturbed by some news from England. But don’t fear. Everything is fine here.” She wandered out to the parlor, praying what she said was so.
34
August 29, 1665
Winter Harbor
The work on the ship had progressed to the point that Jeremy, Harry, and Benjamin could sleep onboard in dry dock. It was quite luxurious, with two large main cabins and a dining cabin, and they rather enjoyed it after sleeping for months in too-small bunks stuck in a hole in the wall. Benjamin and Jeremy planned to ask Lizzie to see to the draperies and bedcovers for the ship.
The three men—finished with their supper—were sitting in the dining cabin, discussing their plans for the morrow, when Reverend Youngs boarded the ship. Jeremy heard him first and went to investigate. “Reverend, what a pleasant surprise. Come in, please.”
“I’m not sure how pleasant this will be, Jeremy. I’m afraid I have some disturbing news.”
Benjamin leapt to his feet, and Harry wasn’t far behind. Jeremy, who was pulling up a chair for the reverend, stopped, his eyes riveting to Reverend Youngs. “Is it Barnabas? Patience? Who is it?”
“It’s not a person, Jeremy, it is the estate in Mowsley. Your estate.”
“Pray pardon. What has happened?” He looked around at Harry and Benjamin. “Let’s sit down.”
“Your attorney sent me a letter. As you had instructed him, if an emergency arose, he wrote and asked me to notify Barnabas and then you. Assuming your brother and I knew your whereabouts, of course.”
Jeremy nodded. “Yes. Go on.”
“There was a devastating fire just outside of Mowsley that swept through and burned the entire estate. I’m sorry, but there have been several deaths, including your overseer, Elliot Gibson. Many more are homeless, and food and supplies have become scarce. The house and mill burned. All the surrounding buildings, the cottages of the workers, from the sound of it. Here.” He pulled a letter out of his pocket. “This is the letter that explains all that is known right now.”
Jeremy read the letter and then passed it to Benjamin. “My attorney requests that I return immediately. He says I am urgently needed.” He sat forward, his hands clasped between his knees. He was sick at heart. “Harry, I trust we are sufficiently done for me to go posthaste?” When Harry nodded, he turned to his nephew. “And Benjamin, would you see to any of the accoutrements that Harry requires?”
“Certainly, Uncle Jeremy. This is horrible. Will Father go with you?”
“I don’t know. He certainly may if he wishes, but he will not have to. To be sure, it would be better if he stayed to be strong for Patience. She will undoubtedly be upset by this news.”
Reverend Youngs leaned forward. “I shared with Barnabas that the fire has destroyed the estate. I did not tell him of the request that you go back to Mowsley. I felt it better, especially in
regard to Patience, that you personally give them that information.”
“Thank you, Reverend. I should make haste to Southold. I don’t want to keep Barn wondering, and I do not wish to withhold the request—as much as I’d like to.”
Benjamin ran his hand through his blond hair. “Patience will not like this.”
Jeremy stared at him for a moment. “I know. I have no idea how to tell her without upsetting her. I must go. People are suffering, and Elliot is gone. And it is not only my employees and their families affected. Mowsley depends so much on the mill. People are not only without work, they are without food.”
Reverend Youngs put his hand on Jeremy’s. “What about your attorney? Can he help?”
“I don’t see how. He’s in London. He can release funds on my behalf, but there’s no one to receive them now—and no one to administer them.”
Harry stood. “Go to Patience now. Don’t ye worry about me. Or the ship. Benjamin and I will get her done.”
Reverend Youngs stood, too. “Get Ink, and we’ll ride back together. I suspect you’ll find Patience with Mary and Barnabas.”
Harry turned to Benjamin. “Ye go too, son. This is a tragedy for yer whole family. Go, and when ye’re ready to come back, we’ll finish my ship.”
“Thank you, Harry. I think I should go. Anna will be upset, too.”
They shook hands with Harry, and after the horses were saddled, the trio urged them into a gallop for Southold.
Reverend Youngs was right. Patience still sat with Mary and Lizzie in the parlor. Mosh lay at their feet. Barnabas sat across from them, staring at the empty hearth. With the sweltering temperatures, they kept only the kitchen fire burning, and that was just low embers.
Jeremy was the first one to walk in, and Patience flew into his arms. He held her close and nestled his chin in her hair while he looked at Mary. He was helpless at the moment, and he knew his sister-in-law could tell.
The room had darkened, and Mary got up to light the candles on the table and the mantel.
To Follow Her Heart Page 21