Willie’s whisper startled her. She hadn’t felt so out-of-place when she pretended to be a boy aboard the Frances Pearl. Did they all stare, or was it her imagination?
He guided her through the doorway, set their meager luggage in the corner, and kissed her cheek. “I will see if they need help with the bed. Why don’t you rest? Perhaps I can bring a new pitcher of water so you can clean up before dinner.”
“Won’t yer mother expect me to help cook?” Her hands shook as images of going down there and doing the wrong thing raced through her brain.
“Not until you are ready, love. You’ll be helping Mama soon enough. It is fine. Take a nap.”
She nodded, not wanting him to worry or keep him from what he needed to do. But the dread of not knowing what was expected and the worry that they could judge her as wanton, unfit for their son, never left her mind. Slipping out of her cape, she laid it across the bags and sat on the edge of the bed. Unbidden, she started to bounce and caught herself smiling. The bed was friendly enough.
She lay back on the pillow and knew nothing more until a sound roused her. Glancing around, she spotted her mother-in-law setting a pitcher on the bureau. “Oh, I dinna ken I’d fallen asleep.”
“I dinna mean to wake ye. I’m so sorry, it’s just in case you might want this when ye woke.”
Maybe raised herself. “No, it is fine, thoughtful. Thank ye very much.”
Mistress Crockett smiled and backed to the door. “Let me know if ye need anything.” She was out the room before Maybe’s brain conjured a reply.
Perhaps the family was clueless concerning what to say, just as she? Or had the judgment already started.
Maybe stretched and got up. She’d been lazy enough. On the bureau she found fresh towels next to the basin, so she slipped down to her stays and petticoat and did a sponge bath. Her stays were becoming tight again. She’d have to have Eliza help her loosen them more. A clothing brush lay on the bureau top, too, so she used it to freshen her dress before re-donning it. Last, she ran a comb through her hair before adjusting her mobcap. Her hair was growing though nowhere near the length it had been. But it was also thicker than she’d ever known it to be. For a moment she felt Willie’s fingers as they wound their way through her tresses. She warmed at the memory.
It was time. Maybe opened the door and went downstairs. Her ankle still pained her occasionally, but other than a slight limp when she wearied, no one else could tell. It only crossed her mind because of a twinge as she reached the last step.
“Is there a problem, love?” Willie must have seen her face reflect the twinge.
“No.” She shook her head then wondered if she protested too much. “It’s nothing. I thought I’d see how I can help.”
“There’s nothing to do now. Come watch.” Willie led her to the kitchen room. Each of the girls had a job. It resembled a flock of birds as they danced in the sky, not bumping into one another, but moving in and out as if they had choreographed it. “One minute.”
He left her side and, with his brother, moved the table into place and added the chairs around the table. They accomplished it as if made to do this job.
The only hitch Maybe noticed in the whole procedure was a young girl who flinched and moved to great lengths to keep away from Willie. No one explained her behavior. Had she been the only one to notice? Perhaps she misinterpreted what she saw.
The girls placed the food on the table and stood behind their chairs. Maybe glanced about, wondering where she should go—her sister appeared to have found her place between two of the older girls.
Her mother-in-law understood. “Maybe, might you take the seat on Willie’s right?” She indicated with a nod the next to the last chair as she stood by the one on the end.
The brother held the chair for his mother, and Willie held one for Maybe. The girls sat and then the men. All very proper, but so seamless. Each claimed the hands next to them, making a circle around the table. Willie’s father blessed the food, and everyone chimed, “Amen.”
Then everything changed to a cacophony of voices and clinks and passing sounds as food and thoughts were exchanged. Everyone wanted to hear from Willie, and he relished the attention. Laughs and gasps punctuated his stories. Maybe squeezed his hand as he chose them with care. He said nothing about her nor revealed anything that pointed to what actually happened. Not that he lied, but he redirected the stories from dangerous topics.
As things quieted, her mother-in-law glanced her way. “Maybe, I detect a lilt from me homeland in yer voice. From where in Ireland do ye hail?”
Maybe swallowed though she hadn’t taken a bite, while her stomach fluttered. She knew there’d be questions. “Bantry Bay, Mistress.”
“No! Bantry Bay? Joseph did ye hear? Did Willie tell ye that’s where Joseph and I lived after we married?”
Maybe nodded. “Aye. He showed me the tower house and ruins, though I’d seen it my whole life growing up there.”
“What was yer family name?”
“Boulay.” Eliza blurted before Maybe came up with an answer.
“Boulay? Oh, now yer foolin’ me. We knew a lad there, a David Boulay. In fact, he married a lovely lass not long after the pirate attack. He’d helped fend off the brutes and after said he couldn’t waste another moment of this life without her. I was there when Reverend Fontaine married them.”
Maybe could hardly speak. “That was me father.”
“Oh, my. And ye’ve traveled all this way for us to meet. How are yer parents? I remember them with fondness.”
The quiet pounded in Maybe’s ears. They waited her answer, only her voice didn’t want to say the hated words.
Willie put his arm about her shoulder. “They have passed, Mama.”
Her new mother-in-law reached out and covered Maybe’s hand. “I am sorry. They were caring people, very kind.”
When Maybe glanced up, Willie’s mother had a tear on her cheek. No wonder Willie was a good man.
“Doesn’t anyone want to know what we learned today?” The little voice shifted focus from Maybe, and gratitude overflowed her heart for the child’s kindness.
“Aye, Janie, what did you learn today?” Willie understood.
“I learned that God answers my prayers, even when it takes a long time.”
“What did you pray for, little one?”
“I prayed for you, Willie. I prayed you’d come home safe, and you did.”
It was slight, but Maybe could sense the change in the muscle tension from the arm Willie still draped over her shoulders. It was as if it merged with her, and they were together. His voice became husky too. “Thank you, Janie. Thank you all. It is good to be home.”
This wasn’t home yet. There were too many ugly memories associated with Beaufort. But sitting here with Willie’s family, she understood why this was home for him. It was a place of love. If it was a place of acceptance, too, then it could be her home.
* * *
Willie realized Maybe was more than quiet. They’d returned to their room, so conversation was free. “Were we a little overwhelming? Or was mentioning your parents too much?”
“Ye’ve a lovely family, Willie.”
He came to her, taking her hand. “They are your family, now too.”
“Perhaps soon, but we dunna ken each other enough yet.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “But yer parents remember me parents. Do ye think if they’d never left, ye and me, perhaps we would’ve met there? And things would’ve been the way they should’ve been?”
Willie sat next to her. He’d been pondering something similar. “It’s possible. I would have enjoyed courting you in Ireland. There’s something romantic about that.” He chuckled.
She ducked her head, but he noted the slight smile. “Aye, that is what I wish. But some things canna be prayed away.”
“Prayed away?”
“What if yer family won’t accept me or our baby? What if they condemn me? I canna blame them. I condemn meself.”
Wil
lie put a hand beneath her chin, guiding her gaze to meet his. “I don’t condemn you. I love you. I love our baby. Mama often says God makes beauty from ashes. You just need to trust my love. Can you do that?”
She searched his eyes. “Aye, I will trust yer love, Willie. If yer with me, that is enough.”
Pulling her to him, he held her close and whispered in her ear. “I love you, Maybe. I will never leave you. If anything ever separates us, I will fight my way back to you. Believe that.”
* * *
Maybe woke the next morning to find Willie already gone. They’d not had but two nights—three counting last night—together as man and wife though sleeping next to him was easy and full of comfort. She stretched until the thought of what her new mother-in-law might think about her lazy ways spurred her from the bed. After a quick wash, she dressed and hurried down to the kitchen.
Mistress Crockett was at the fireplace while the girls set the table. “Good day, Maybe. How did ye sleep?”
“Well, thank ye. How can I help?” She desired to be part of this amazing kitchen dance.
Her mother-in-law seemed to understand. “Ye can help me with the sausages.”
Maybe sighed with relief. Something she could do. Her breathing returned to near normal. She took the spatula and began rolling the little meat logs about in the skillet.
Willie came in. He greeted his mother and sisters before planting a kiss on her cheek and trying to swipe a tidbit of sausage.
Maybe smacked his hand with the spatula, laughing. Something so comfortable and easy. This was what she’d dreamed married life would be. She found herself believing Willie’s words.
One girl, the one who seemed uncomfortable around Willie last night, gasped and raced from the room as Willie left. Maybe heard footfalls on the stairs.
She glanced over at Willie’s mother who nodded to another girl, the eldest one, who followed the other girl. “Is something wrong?”
Willie’s mother called. “Lettie, Mary, please take over here? I must speak with Maybe a moment.” The girls came at once, one smiled and held out her hand for the spatula.
Maybe handed it over and followed Mistress Crockett out the back door.
The crisp November air nipped at her nose causing it to drip. She sniffed and continued to follow to a carved bench where she was invited to sit and join her hostess.
“I need to explain about Aphra. And if I explain, I need to tell you something else.”
Maybe’s stomach began to make knots.
“Aphra is here because she had nowhere else to go. A man cruelly abused her. Now all men terrify her. It has taken time, but she is used to Joseph and Jason. But Willie is new to her, so she is afraid.”
That wasn’t so awful. Well, it was horrible for Aphra, and Maybe’s heart went out to her, but it wasn’t what she feared would be said.
“The reason I brought ye out here to tell ye is because we, Joseph and me, know who ye are.”
They know who I am? The knots began in earnest.
Mistress Crockett took her hand. “When we found Willie’s note, Joseph began to investigate. Yer… Daniel O’Malley’s body was found the evening Willie left. No one knows if he was murdered or what happened. There was no proof. The neighbors informed the constable he had a daughter. Then our lasses discovered some young lady clothes up on Willie’s hill and some strands of long black hair. Plus Jason noticed some of his older clothes were missing. It made us wonder if Willie was with a girl who wanted to look like a boy, but we dinna ken. As Joseph investigated, he learned more. One, that O’Malley’s daughter was not his daughter, she was a stepdaughter named Elizabeth Boulay and that a man named Eleazar Ferguson was very interested in finding her.”
The blood drained from Maybe’s face. She froze. “Ye have said nothing?”
“Oh! We would never say anything. When Aphra came to us, we not only saw how abused she’d been, we learned who abused her. It was Eleazar Ferguson. We turned him in to the authorities and they found him guilty… of rape.”
Maybe couldn’t breathe, couldn’t voice the question she needed to ask.
“They found him guilty, but he saved himself from the gallows by claiming Benefit of Clergy. He passed the test, so they put him into the pillory for a month and branded him a rapist. Now he has nowhere to go, no one will do business with him. Joseph had to work with the constable and justice of the peace to keep him from starvation. He doesn’t leave his house, and no one will work for him. The brand on his face identifies him.” Mistress Crockett scooted closer and put her arm around Maybe. “We dinna understand everything when Willie left, but we know our son. He is good and kind. He has brought you here, and we will help him keep you safe.”
Air forced itself into Maybe’s lungs, and a cry wrung itself from her, unbidden. She leaned into her mother-in-law’s arms.
Her new mother rocked her back and forth, patiently holding, caring, protecting her. She was home.
Chapter Twenty-One
December blew into the Carolinas with gusto. Willie peeked in the kitchen from the back and a chorus yelled, “Shut the door!”
“Aye!” He laughed, closed the door, and slipped next to Maybe, taking her by the hand and whispering, “Come with me.” He led her to their room where he closed another door. “I have an idea.”
Maybe didn’t appear as excited as he felt. Well, of course he’d yet to tell her, but it was perfect and the answer to everything. She sat on the edge of the bed, gazing at him.
“Do you remember the exact words from that receipt your stepfather had?”
Now she looked stunned. “Aye, I’ll never forget. ‘One girl, seventeen years of age, four and a half stones. Sold to Eleazar Ferguson in lieu of the thirty-pound debt. Delivery expected the twentieth of May in the year of our Lord 1730. Debt paid in full upon delivery of girl.’ Why?”
He took a breath. She’d love this. “We write another note. I’ll include thirty-five pounds, so he even comes out ahead. And then he has no legal recourse with you.” Willie grinned, waiting for her to get excited.
She didn’t.
“What’s the matter? The biggest problem is the legal part. We can protect you on everything else but until we correct the legal part, you cannot be yourself.”
She tipped her head back and sighed. “Oh, Willie, there are so many questions. Where will we get the money? How do we get this to him without him knowing who sent it? And I am yer wife, why must ye pay for what I willingly give to ye?”
He was stunned. Didn’t she understand? No court in the land would want to give her to that madman, but if he should produce the receipt, they would be legally bound. He sat next to her. “We have the money. Boatswain Johnson paid me for the work I did on the return trip. I only want you safe, Maybe.”
She stroked his cheek. “I know, Willie. Yer heart is in the right place. But I think it‘s more of a problem than a help. Besides, we need that money when we build our house in the spring.”
“So you don’t want me to do it?”
“No, Willie, I dunna want ye to do it. Now I need to get back downstairs and help get dinner ready.” She kissed his cheek. “But I love that ye were thinking of me.”
He captured her face between his hands and thoroughly kissed her before letting her go. “Then back to the kitchen with you.”
Her expression told him she was weighing her options. “Ye dunna play fair Willie Crockett.”
“I know. I play to win.” He winked at her. “I will see you downstairs, wife.”
“As ye wish, husband.” And she left the room.
Willie lay back on the bed. It was a great idea. She should trust him to do it. How many times had she said she wanted to be herself? Once they paid the madman, she could be herself without fear of anyone sending the law to collect her. He worked his jaw back and forth, as the idea argued with Maybe’s comments in his brain. This was too important. He hopped up and dug into the top drawer of the bureau for the writing desk he’d taken to college and br
ought back nearly new. Once opened, he took out the little used quill, a clean sheet of paper, and the glass ink well. After mixing up the ink, he dipped the quill and then put it down. He needed to practice the words first. If Maybe had agreed, she could have written it for him but since she didn’t, he needed to do it himself. He found a pencil and practiced the words. Once he thought he had them, he traced them with ink. And left a big smear. Great, he must do it again.
He crumpled the first try, tossing it in the corner, and started again with a pencil. Then with great care, he traced it. Once it was dry, he sealed it up with three ten-pound notes and one five-pound note. There’d be no claim they’d cheated him.
Beth called up the stairs to say dinner was ready just as he put the writing desk away.
“Coming!” He slipped the note into his pocket. Half the battle was over. Now to get it to Eleazar Ferguson.
* * *
“I’m going for a walk, love, while you help here. I’ll be back.” Willie kissed her cheek and slipped out before Maybe could speak.
Her hand traced the place on her face while she stared after him. How odd. Confused, she shook her head and returned to putting the room to rights. It was quick and easy. Many hands made light work. That was her mother’s voice in her head. She would appreciate this.
It still amazed her to watch the wonderful management her mother-in-law—no, Mother Sarah put in place. Maybe hoped she would someday be as skilled. Of course, she first must give birth to an army of children, as Mother did, though this once was adventure enough. She put the cleaning rag away, rubbed her growing belly, and smiled.
Since Willie was out, she wandered into the sitting room to see what the family was doing. Mother sat knitting something small while helping Janie with her math. The child was becoming proficient with multiplication facts. Lettie and Mary sat with perfect posture on the settee embroidering samplers while Martha and Beth wound yarn and spelled words to each other. Aphra and Eliza played a game of whist in the room’s corner. Everyone was busy. Everyone had a place. What was her place?
The Crockett Chronicles- The Complete Collection Page 78