“Anne, Anne,” he said over and over as he pressed his lips into her hands. “I feared I might never see those beautiful eyes again.”
She dropped her gaze, clearly embarrassed by his show of affection, but he didn’t care. She hadn’t pulled away, and that was all that mattered.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
She finally lifted her lovely face to meet his gaze. “I am well. Daniel says I owe my life to you.”
He still held her hands, pressing them to his cheeks, loving the feel of her—alive and well. “Daniel has been with you night and day from the start,” John said, finally letting her hands go. “He deserves your praise—and my undying gratitude.”
She smiled, her eyes shining with the gesture. “You act as if he did it for you.”
Love swelled in John’s chest as he lifted his fingers to her cheek and caressed the silky smooth skin with his thumb. “He did.”
This time Anne didn’t lower her gaze but stared at him.
“I’m a fool, Anne Burras.” He shook his head, needing to tell her the truth, realizing life was too short to keep things hidden. “I’ve fallen in love with you, when all I intended to do was monopolize your time so the others would leave you alone.”
She lifted her eyebrows, a myriad of emotions fluttering across her face. “Y–you love me?” she finally whispered.
“I do.” He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “More than I thought possible—and now that you’re well, I’m more convinced than ever.”
Anne closed her eyes and lowered her chin. It quivered as if she was about to cry.
John pulled his hand away, afraid he’d said too much too soon.
Anne’s body trembled at the weight of John’s words.
He loved her?
No one loved her.
“Have I upset you?” he asked gently.
Tears gathered in her eyes, and when she finally opened them to look upon his dear face again, they spilled onto her cheeks. “You have not upset me.”
A hopeful smile tilted his mouth as he reached up and wiped away one of the tears. “Then why are you crying, my love?”
She rested her hand upon his. “Do you truly love me, John?”
“I did not think it possible so soon—but I do.”
His blue eyes, which were so clear and bright and full of love, shined upon her and she couldn’t deny what he said—nor how she felt. During her illness, when she had moments of lucid thought, all she could see in her mind’s eye was John and how much she wanted him by her side.
And he had been there, at least until Caldwell had banned him from his home. But more importantly, he was here now, proclaiming a love she had never thought possible.
“I love you too,” she whispered.
He took her into his arms then and held her close against his broad, strong chest. She’d never felt so safe or complete as she did in that moment. It felt as if she could do anything and she’d succeed because John would be there to offer his love and support.
“Anne.” He pulled back and looked deep into her eyes. “I must ask you to make me a promise.”
She would promise him almost anything in this moment. “You need only ask.”
Fear tinted his gaze. “Promise me you’ll be on Captain Newport’s ship when he leaves Virginia.”
Confusion made her frown. If he loved her—didn’t that mean he wanted to marry her? Or had she misunderstood? “Y–you don’t want me to stay?”
“I do.” He ran his thumb along her jawline and down to her chin, resting it just below her bottom lip. “But the colony is not safe. I couldn’t bear to watch you suffer and die the way so many have gone this past year.”
“But if I leave, I’ll never see you again.” The thought of being separated from him—now that she knew she loved him—was more than her weary heart could handle.
“I have signed a three-year contract with the Virginia Company,” he said. “I’ve already fulfilled half of the agreement. When I have completed the rest, I will sail back to England to be with you.”
A year and a half? So much could happen in that amount of time. Keen disappointment tightened her throat, and she was afraid she might start to cry for an entirely different reason. “What shall I do until you come for me?” He knew, as well as she, that an unmarried woman had little to no protection against the world. “Where will I live and work?”
He ran his thumb along her bottom lip, sending a spiral of heat through her middle.
“I have a small savings account in London, and I have an annual wage allotted to me from the Virginia Company.” He studied her for a heartbeat, as if weighing the wisdom in his next statement. “Before you leave Virginia, I’d like to make you my bride. You will arrive in England as Goodwife Layton and will have access to what little I have to offer.”
He was proposing marriage, after all? She didn’t want to be separated from him, but the prospect of returning to England to wait for him was not as daunting if they were man and wife.
“I will do what you think is best,” she said.
John’s smile returned, and he could have lit the sky with it. “If you promise to go, I will promise to come to you as soon as possible.”
“Healthy and well?” She didn’t want to think about all that he might face here in the colony over the next eighteen months. She couldn’t, or she would be a puddle of tears.
“God willing.” He continued to caress her cheeks, her chin, her lips. “You’ve made me the happiest man in North America,” he said with a beautiful grin. “I will make you my bride as soon as the priest returns to do the honors.”
She leaned into his touch, yearning for more, yet uncertain how to encourage him.
Her simple movement seemed to be all the encouragement he needed, because he pulled her closer and laid a sweet kiss on her lips.
Anne melted into his arms, drawing strength and comfort in his embrace. She met his kiss with a passion she did not know existed, and deepened the kiss until she was breathless.
John took his time kissing her, allowing his hands to explore her back, her neck, and then her arms.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Master Caldwell’s voice scorched Anne’s ears a moment before the door banged against the wall. He clutched the back of John’s jacket and tried to haul him away from Anne.
Master Caldwell was no match for John’s strength and size, but John did not fight his superior, nor did he seem repentant in the least. He simply stood and faced Master Caldwell.
“What are you doing?” Master Caldwell demanded. “I warned you not to enter my home again.”
“I love Anne,” John said plainly. “I plan to make her my wife.”
“You will do no such thing.”
“She and I are free to do as we please.”
Master Caldwell’s face turned from pink to fiery red. “I am her master.”
“Anne is a freewoman, not indentured or contracted to you. If she so chooses, she is free to marry me.”
There was a moment of silence as Master Caldwell’s chest rose and fell in sharp, short breaths. “I may not be able to stop you from marrying, but I can arrest you for trespassing, as I warned.”
John took a deep breath and nodded. “You have that right—but I will be more beneficial to you if I am free.”
Anne clutched her blanket, her energy drained. She was so exhausted, her eyelids hurt from trying to keep them open, but she couldn’t sleep now, even if she wanted to.
Master Caldwell’s gaze was shrewd and calculating as he studied John. “Mayhap you’re right, but you are also no good to me if you are keeping the other men from coming to see Anne.”
John took a step forward. “I will insist she is not bothered by the other—”
“Since you cannot marry until the priest returns, she is still my maid and under my care. You will insist upon nothing.”
“I will tell the others she is spoken for.”
Caldwell lifted a shoulder, as if he were n
o longer worried about what John would do.
“I have returned early because there was another death today.” Caldwell spoke so calmly about the incident Anne would think he had lost all ability to empathize. “An arrow, through the heart.”
John’s mouth grew tense as his eyes narrowed. “We need to stay inside the fort until Newport and Smith return with reinforcements.”
Master Caldwell went to the sideboard and opened it. He pulled out a bottle of wine he kept hidden in the back corner. Uncorking the bottle, he poured the red liquid into a clay goblet. “I don’t think that’s the best course of action.”
“President Smith would insist—”
“President Smith is not here.” Master Caldwell took a sip, and a smile tilted his bewhiskered mouth. “But I am, and I will decide what’s best.”
“It will only continue.”
“I know.” He pulled a chair out from the table and took a seat, his goblet in hand. “But I will not need to worry, because I will no longer be in the woods.”
Anne clutched her blanket and John crossed his arms.
“Starting tomorrow morning, you will be responsible to take the men out to fell the trees. And because you’re so eager to work, I will insist you double the amount of logs harvested or face more severe consequences.”
John stared at Master Caldwell, his eyes hard with loathing.
“Please,” Anne begged her employer, fear making her throat tighten. She wanted to rise to make her case, but she was too weak. “Don’t send him because of me.”
Master Caldwell didn’t acknowledge her. “Leave,” he told John. “And do not come back until you’ve done as I’ve commanded.”
John let out a deep breath and then walked to Anne. Thankfully, Master Caldwell did not stop him—but he probably knew he couldn’t stop John even if he had wanted.
Crouching down to be closer to Anne, John took her hands in his. “I will marry you as soon as the priest returns.” He lifted her hands to his lips. “Be ready.”
Tears stung the back of her eyes. “Don’t go, John. You may be killed.”
His shoulders were set and his jaw was hard. “I have no choice.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head as the tears fell.
He leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Knowing you are waiting for me will be all the strength I need to do my job.” He let his lips linger, warming her skin with his breath. “Pray for me,” he whispered and then stood and left the cottage.
Anne fell against her pallet and wept until unconsciousness overpowered her.
Chapter 7
With the threat of more attacks, Master Caldwell had posted double guards on the bulwarks. Anne watched two of the men change shifts as she walked to the well a week after John proposed.
Her strength had quickly returned, and she gave the credit to John’s proposal. His love was like a balm to her soul, healing the wounds she had carried since she was a child. She had not told him about her mother yet, but she planned to one day soon.
Master Forest had stayed in his room as always. Anne wondered if he’d heard that she was sick and if it made him rethink his accusation.
Anne turned the crank on the well and watched the rope as it slowly wrapped around the wooden wheel.
There had been no more attacks, but John and his men had come across evidence that someone was watching the fort. He had shared the information with her the second night he’d returned from harvesting trees and said she must always be on alert. He didn’t know when Newport and Smith would return, nor did he know why Powhatan’s warriors were targeting the fort.
Wind blew against Anne, fluttering her cape and pulling at her hair, which was neatly secured under her white cap. The weather had turned mild again, though it was not warm. It no longer nipped at her cheeks and nose when she went about her chores, and she was thankful her cape was enough to keep the chill at bay.
She turned the crank and brought the bucket to the surface. A group of men watched her work, but they no longer pestered her like they once had. She didn’t know if John had told them they were engaged or if they just guessed, but they gave her a wider berth and no longer came to the cottage to see her. It angered Master Caldwell, but Anne didn’t mind. She had never liked that he profited from her presence in his home, but she hadn’t been able to stop him.
Anne poured the water from the well into her bucket and paused to check her surroundings. John should be returning at any moment, which is why she had come to fetch water. Daniel could have accomplished the task, but she wanted to be there when John entered the fort. She longed to speak to him before she returned to the cottage under the watchful eye of Master Caldwell.
“Visitors,” one of the guards called.
A guard jumped off the bulwark and went to the gate to unlatch the bar holding it in place. He made a slight bow as Pocahontas entered the fort.
Anne’s pulse sped at the sight of the Indian princess. She wore a buckskin dress with cloth leggings and a cloth undershirt. Her black hair was worn in two long braids that hung over her shoulders and lay across her chest, almost touching her waist. John had told Anne more about Chief Powhatan’s favorite daughter and how she had spared President Smith’s life the first winter they were in Virginia. Since then the chief’s respect for President Smith had never been in question, though Anne sensed that John was uncertain of it now, with Smith and Newport not yet returned.
“Anne?” Pocahontas saw Anne standing by the well and came to her, a smile of greeting on her beautiful face. Under her right arm she carried a basket filled with more food. “How do you do?” Pocahontas asked in short, practiced tones.
“I’m well,” Anne said with a smile in return.
The chief’s daughter looked closely at Anne and her smile fell. “You’ve been ill?”
Anne touched her sallow cheek, surprised that the girl could see her illness, even now, when she felt so much better. “Yes.”
“I bring medicine next time,” Pocahontas said slowly.
Anne suddenly recalled the present she had made for the Indian girl. “I have a gift for you.”
Pocahontas nodded, though Anne wondered how much the girl understood.
“Come,” Anne said to her. “It’s in my room.”
The younger woman followed Anne to her quarters and hesitated just outside the door.
“Would you like to come in?” Anne asked.
Looking around the room without entering, she just smiled and shook her head.
Anne went to the cabinet in the corner where she kept her bedding and removed a pair of white knitted gloves that she had made since Pocahontas’s last visit to James Fort. They were not decorated or adorned, but they had been a painstaking task that Anne had fit into her busy days.
She walked across the room and met Pocahontas at the door, a little bashful to hand over her creation. “For you. A gift.”
Pocahontas reached out and took the gloves. They were long, meant to be worn up to the elbows, and were a beautiful complement to her dark skin.
The girl looked at them in awe, and then she lifted her gaze and smiled. “Thank you.”
Anne simply nodded, unsure how to proceed.
“I bring more food.” Pocahontas reached into her basket and pulled out a large orange squash.
Taking the offering, Anne smiled back at her new friend. “Thank you. I think I will make this into a pie with the honey from John.”
“John.” Pocahontas’s smile fell and she looked toward the gate where she had just entered. “Danger in wood.”
Fear clutched at Anne’s chest as she nodded. “I pray for his safety.”
Pocahontas’s eyes filled with concern. “I pray too.”
The simple statement was just as precious to Anne as all the gifts the girl could give.
“I trade.” Pocahontas indicated the other side of the fort where the men were gathering.
Anne reached out and touched the girl’s arm. “I look forward to seeing you a
gain.” It was nice to see another female after so many weeks of only men.
Pocahontas simply smiled and moved on.
The gate opened again, and this time the tired crew of men under John’s command entered the fort. John was at the front of the group, and Anne breathed a sigh of relief.
He caught her eye at the same moment, and though he looked exhausted, his countenance lifted.
She met him in the middle of the fort, near the pretty chapel he had built that spring and summer after the first one had burned.
“How are you feeling today?” he asked her before they came to a stop in front of each other.
“I am well.” She still held the squash that Pocahontas had given her. “A friend stopped in to see me.”
John grinned and touched her arm in a brief but meaningful brush of his hand.
“And how are you?” she asked, wanting to rub away the worry lines around his eyes. “Did you meet your quota for the day?”
He sighed. “Aye.”
“And did you see any more signs of the enemy?”
“No, thanks be to God.” He motioned for her to follow him into the church. “I need to rest for a while. Do you mind sitting with me?”
She shook her head, happy just to be with him. Master Caldwell did not like John in his home, so why not spend time somewhere they were both wanted?
John pushed open the door of the chapel and held it for her to enter.
The room was a bit musty and cool. Rafters overhead held lanterns made in James Fort by the silversmith. They were unlit and full of cobwebs. A dozen or so wooden benches, hand-hewn by John, lined the building. He indicated the one at the back, closest to the door, which he propped open for propriety’s sake—as well as for light.
Anne took a seat and set the squash beside her. John sat on her other side. He lifted her hand in his and traced his finger against her soft skin. “I think of little else but you all day,” he said quietly. “Your eyes, your smile, your hair.” He looked up and let his gaze roam over her features. “I think about how beautiful you are and how much I want to kiss you.”
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