Shiloh

Home > Other > Shiloh > Page 44
Shiloh Page 44

by Lori Benton


  “‘The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul . . .’”

  Ian pressed close to Seona’s side, the arm not cradling Gabriel enveloping her. She held Mandy in both arms and leaned into him as the words flowed over her like those still waters of which they spoke.

  “‘He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.’”

  Seona saw not a dry eye in that cabin as Malcolm came to the end of the psalm.

  Naomi sniffled as she took the Bible from her daddy’s hands. “Time for sleep,” she said, unnecessarily, for Malcolm’s eyes had already closed, his breathing deepened.

  They all filed out of the cabin—Lily last of all, holding Malcolm’s hand briefly while he slept—Seona wondering if Malcolm would see tomorrow’s sunrise.

  With a heart both raw and soaring, she held her mama close outside in the cabin-yard and kissed her one last time. For now . . . She embraced Joseph as her daddy. She watched as Catriona and Matthew parted with many a tender promise. Then those who remained stood in the yard while the three rode away toward the lake and the ridge to the north, Joseph taking the mountain route he knew best, though he was free now as any man to pass through Shiloh.

  When the riders rounded the lake and the trees hid the last packhorse from sight, they put the children down to run again. Ian wrapped his arms around her from behind and asked, “Are ye all right, Seona?”

  As had Malcolm on his bed, she paused before answering, testing the lines that moored her soul . . . and knew she could release her mama and Malcolm both, if need be. A firmer line had her anchored. Hope. Not in the home they were making with its green pastures and still waters. Not in the promise of her mama’s return. Not in her children or even Ian, given to be her husband, her heart.

  Her hope was anchored in the One who had restored her soul. Whose mercy and grace had followed her all the days of her life, whether she had had the eyes to see it or not—and would go on doing so, until she went to dwell in His house forever.

  Ally had gone off to his beloved cattle, Nip and Tuck at his heels.

  Naomi was back inside the cabin where Malcolm slept, no doubt seeing to vittling the rest of them.

  Catriona chased after her nephew and niece. Seona heard their laughter.

  She turned in Ian’s arms to drink in his handsome face, his mouth with its corners curved on the verge of smiling, eyes like the sky with the smoke from their cabin chimneys cutting across it. Waiting for her answer to his question.

  Then, because she knew he liked it when she did such things, she put her hands to his cheeks, rough in need of shaving, pulled his head down to hers, and kissed that mouth, full and sweet. Letting that be her answer.

  A Note from the Author

  After authoring seven historical novels set during the eighteenth century, I decided to set myself a new challenge—making my eighth novel a sequel to two of my previous books, instead of one. Shiloh blends the story worlds of Mountain Laurel, this book’s prequel, and my 2013 debut, Burning Sky (in which the primary story of Neil, Willa, and Joseph Tames-His-Horse is told). While I’m very pleased with how these story worlds merged and completed each other, I confess that the writing of Shiloh turned out to be a challenge indeed and a lesson in crowd control. As much as I would have relished letting more of Shiloh’s denizens romp across the pages and tell their stories twelve years out from the ending of Burning Sky, much care and attention was given to ensuring this story’s focus remained on Seona and Ian, while at the same time delivering on my long-standing promise to give readers more of Joseph Tames-His-Horse’s story.

  My gratitude goes to my long-suffering and hardworking editors on the Kindred duology, Jan Stob (who also acquired these books for Tyndale House) and Sarah Rische, for that care and attention. Their efforts to corral a sprawling cast of secondary and minor characters who, each by turn, tried to steal scenes, chapters, and sometimes whole subplots, cannot not be overstated.

  Readers may or may not know that Mountain Laurel is the first historical novel I ever wrote. Burning Sky was the second, though it was published first. By the time I had finished writing Burning Sky, I’d discovered the connection between those two books through the characters of Joseph Tames-His-Horse and Lily, Seona’s mother. I knew they were destined to meet and quietly fall in love in the shadow of Ian and Seona’s drama. But how to forge this connection between them and find a plausible reason for a large contingent of my Mountain Laurel crew to wind up in the Adirondack foothills remained a mystery until I began researching what was happening in New York in the last decade of the eighteenth century. Enter Judge William Cooper, founder of Cooperstown, New York, and—thrillingly for me—the father of James Fenimore Cooper, who would grow up to write The Last of the Mohicans, the inspiration behind more than half my novels.

  Alan Taylor’s Pulitzer Prize–winning book, William Cooper’s Town: Power and Persuasion on the Frontier of the Early American Republic, is an engaging exploration of a man born from humble Quaker origins who rose to the status of merchant, frontier land speculator, landlord, politician, and the inspiration for the character Judge Marmaduke Temple in his son’s novel The Pioneers—as the town his father founded at the foot of Otsego Lake would become a model for James’s storied village, Templeton. In the pages of William Cooper’s Town, I met a man, still rough around the edges (and a hopelessly atrocious speller), who could be wildly generous in attracting other men to settle on the New York frontier. This book provided such richly layered detail about Cooper’s life and doings that I had no doubt the man—by now become a congressman—might well have been traveling that Pennsylvania road at the time I placed him there during a late spring thunderstorm in 1796, ready to cross paths with Ian Cameron, himself on the move and needing to resettle.

  One last note on the Coopers: contrary to my presentation of young James Cooper in these pages, he did not adopt his mother’s maiden name of Fenimore as his middle name until he was an adult. Readers will, I hope, excuse my bestowing it upon him as a child, for the benefit of those unfamiliar with the family connection. I simply couldn’t resist giving the author of The Last of the Mohicans a small but blatant shout-out.

  It is December of 2020 as I write this author’s note. Even as I spent much of this year looking backward, immersed in the past, 2020 changed the way I think about my future, here on earth and eternally. After all we have experienced nationally and globally, my earthly future seems at present more uncertain than I ever thought it could. Given the year in which most of this story was written, it’s no surprise Shiloh turned out to have much to do with our need for choosing what, or who, will anchor our souls in the midst of life’s uncertainties. To use another metaphor that frequents these pages, in what sort of soil, and by what streams of water, will we sink our roots for nourishment?

  Seona and Ian made this choice in a world that cries out for justice, but one in which all efforts to achieve justice can be only partially successful. Their anchor was their hope in the Kingdom that Jesus promised before His ascension, when He also said we would join Him in it. A Kingdom where wholeness, justice, joy, and peace surround and overflow all who dwell therein. That promise inspires us to engage in the works God has prepared for us to do across the span of our earthly days. I have no better words to tell you how to keep yourself anchored in that hope during these difficult days than what Malcolm said to Seona: “Read [God’s] Word for yourself, every page of it. Then read it again. Learn who He is. Who He says ye are. That’s how ye learn to trust Him, to love Him.” All other sources of hope will promise to
satisfy, anchor, or deliver, but they will fail.

  In addition to editors Jan and Sarah, I want to give a shout-out to the rest of the fabulous Tyndale team it has been my pleasure and privilege to work with on the Kindred duology: Madeline Daniels, Andrea Garcia, Andrea Martin, Libby Dykstra (designer of both gorgeous covers), Erin Smith, and Aimee Alker. Your professionalism, kindness, talent, and grace have made the long-awaited publication of Ian and Seona’s story a dream come true, and you have all been a dream to work with. Thank you!

  Last but never least, Wendy Lawton . . . I’m so thankful you’re still with me on this journey, most especially that you never gave up on these books that brought us together. Thank you for holding them in your heart all these years and giving them that one last chance to fly.

  One final note: A key character from Mountain Laurel didn’t appear in the pages of Shiloh—Thomas Ross. What in the world has he been up to, aside from that brief visit with the Boston Camerons that Seona related in one of her letters to Ian? I intend to answer that, and a few other questions readers might have about certain Kindred characters, in a follow-up novella called The Journey of Runs-Far. A December 2021 release is planned. To keep abreast of this and other book news, visit my website at loribenton.com, and while you’re there, sign up for my newsletter.

  Until then, I wish you happy reading!

  Lori Benton

  About the Author

  Lori Benton was raised in Maryland, with generations-deep roots in southern Virginia and the Appalachian frontier. Her historical novels transport readers to the eighteenth century, where she expertly brings to life the colonial and early federal periods of American history. Her books have received the Christy Award and the Inspy Award and have been honored as finalists for the ECPA Book of the Year. Lori is most at home surrounded by mountains, currently those of the Pacific Northwest, where, when she isn’t writing, she’s likely to be found in wild places behind a camera.

  Discussion Questions

  Though second chances at love abound in Shiloh, they don’t come without patience and effort. Ian and Seona rekindle their romance through an exchange of letters, but barriers still exist between them that cause misunderstandings and resurrect old hurts. What are those barriers? How do Ian and Seona overcome them?

  While still in Boston, Seona observes that “Family was like the sea . . . full of hidden currents and undertows.” Ian and his brother, Ned, are divided by a lifetime of entrenched patterns of behavior and thinking toward each other. What are these patterns? How do you think they fell into them? What heals old hurts and finally helps them see one another more clearly?

  Ian struggles with the choice between possible futures and the weight of all the lives he feels responsible for, yet John Reynold encourages him with these words: “God will make the way for you . . . Be ready to be surprised by His goodness.” In what ways does this promise manifest in Ian’s journey from North Carolina to Boston, then to New York? Do you live expecting God’s goodness? How would your perspective on your future change if you did?

  As Seona heads westward to begin her new life, she fears how she and Gabriel will be received in Shiloh and wonders whether she should hide the truth about who and what she was. How do these fears hold her back? Which characters challenge her fears, and what advice does each give?

  Mentioned in one of Seona’s letters, the Gaelic word dùthchas (a sense of belonging to a place and the people who lived there before you) is a legacy Ian desires to create for his children on their farm along Black Kettle Creek. Is he successful in making a start? What threatens his efforts to create such a legacy? Have you experienced this type of connection to a place?

  Ian sees in his new neighbors the MacGregors an example of what he longs for with Seona and their children—family both by blood and by choice. Name the characters who choose to be linked with Ian. Why does each make this choice? Though Ian is an imperfect man who doesn’t always get things right the first time, what do others see in him to desire this connection?

  New starts can come as a relief. They can also be frightening. Seona finds the reality of starting over in Shiloh—with all its possibilities and unknowns—unexpectedly paralyzing. Why do you think this is so? How does Lily view the idea of a new start in Shiloh? How does Catriona view it? Malcolm? Naomi? Ally?

  Lily lives a guarded inner life, but Seona and Ian both wonder if her mother desires more from life than circumstances have granted her. Were you as surprised by the quiet blossoming of Lily and Joseph’s romance as Seona was? Looking back, what clues to its development were present that Seona was too distracted to notice?

  Many characters in Shiloh must learn to navigate life as free persons after years of slavery—in Malcolm’s case, nearly an entire lifespan. We are privy to Seona’s internal struggles with freedom, but what about Lily, Malcolm, Naomi, and Ally? What opportunities does freedom grant each of these characters? How do they embrace them? What are their challenges? Do they overcome them?

  In the story’s opening pages, John Reynold implies that the gold found on his land was almost more trouble than it was worth, foreshadowing the difficulties the gold would cause Ian, Seona, and those connected to them. Do you think the gold caused more trouble than good? Who do you think was at fault for the fear and insecurity that came of it?

  Matthew MacGregor wants revenge against Aram Crane for the crimes he committed. When he tries to take it, he is nearly killed. How might the story have unfolded differently had Matthew not attacked Crane? Were you as surprised by Ian’s offer of grace to Crane as Matthew was?

  Though Judith’s death occurs early in the story, her tender spirit casts a long shadow, as do her dying words, “Grace. It is enough.” What does Ian initially think they meant? What do they come to mean to him?

  CONNECT WITH LORI BENTON ONLINE AT

  loribenton.com

  OR FOLLOW HER ON

  facebook.com/AuthorLoriBenton

  @LBentonAuthor

  Lori Benton

  TYNDALE HOUSE PUBLISHERS IS CRAZY4FICTION!

  Fiction that entertains and inspires

  Get to know us! Become a member of the Crazy4Fiction community. Whether you read our blog, like us on Facebook, follow us on Twitter, or receive our e-newsletter, you’re sure to get the latest news on the best in Christian fiction. You might even win something along the way!

  JOIN IN THE FUN TODAY.

  crazy4fiction.com

  Crazy4Fiction

  crazy4fiction

  @Crazy4Fiction

  FOR MORE GREAT TYNDALE DIGITAL PROMOTIONS, GO TO TYNDALE.COM/EBOOKS

 

 

 


‹ Prev