We hoped you’d come home a few times during the winter months, John. The endless days from Christmas until now have seemed like forever.”
John swallowed his mouthful of hearty spiced beans and smiled at Susan. “I know, my love. It felt like that for me also, but Captain Busse believed the French were planning a surprise attack. Turned out he’d been given false information by our Shamokin Village Indian allies. There’s always more rumors and waiting than action.”
“Thank the Lord for that,” Lily remarked from the hearth.
John glanced up at her, surprised when she immediately averted her gaze. Odd. “It does get tiresome languishing at the fort. But you’re right. We’re most grateful to the Lord.”
“Amen.” Little Emma’s affirmation was rife with feeling.
“Yes. Amen.” John grinned. It felt wonderful to be home. Only why was Lily acting so shy? Perhaps she was hesitant to remind him that her indenturement would come to an end in two months. The quiet English girl had fit in so well here and been such an invaluable help to them all, he couldn’t imagine what the family would do without her.
While the children chatted on about the happenings at the cove since Christmas, John tried to concentrate on his delicious, home-cooked meal. But with the troubling sound of Susan’s raspy breathing beside him, he could not deny that with Lily’s imminent departure approaching, it was more vital than ever to convince his wife to go to her family in Philadelphia.
His gaze meandered once again to Lily as she stirred the coals and added another log to the dwindling fire. Nothing remained of the frightened, wide-eyed waif of a bond servant who’d trembled uncertainly on the auction block in Baltimore years ago. That wisp of a girl had blossomed into an engaging young woman, her wheat-gold hair a shining halo braided about her head. The Lord had given this family a priceless gift in her. In truth, John had a few misgivings about Lily in the beginning. But she’d turned out to be quite the capable young woman…nursemaid to his wife, almost-mother to his children, excellent housekeeper, and willing farmhand. Hard to believe that in a mere two months the law would require him to give the winsome, golden-haired angel two pounds cash money and supplies enough to see her safely back to her sisters.
She turned her face up to his then, and for an instant he was lost in the luminous depths of her gray eyes as a flush of pink swept her delicate cheekbones.
John gathered his errant thoughts and swallowed. Two pounds. How could he spare that sum? Since being called to militia duty, he’d been unable to practice his furniture-making trade, and with his long absences, the farm barely produced enough to keep the family and livestock fed. Philadelphia was the only answer.
“Papa, you’re not listening.” Emma tugged his linsey-woolsey sleeve. “I said—”
“Forgive me, honey. I was enjoying being here so much my ears couldn’t keep up.” He reached past Davy and gave her a hug.
She shrunk away a bit, and her nose scrunched up. “You need a bath, Papa. Bad.”
He could only chuckle.
“Emma!” Lily gasped. “I daresay that was hardly polite. But I’d imagine your father would appreciate a nice warm soak. I’ll start heating extra water.” She snatched up the water bucket and emptied it into the kettle. “Matt, would you and Luke mind taking the bucket and milk pail out to the well and filling them with water?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Both boys scooted back their chairs and hastened to do her bidding.
“Lily’s been such a blessing,” Susan said in her thready voice. “I don’t know what we’d do without her.”
John released a pent-up breath and studiously avoided glancing at the lass again. How would he tell his wife their lovely helper would be gone in two months? His family simply had to leave this place—even if Susan still dreaded facing her domineering father after all these years.
Up in the loft, John tucked Davy in for the night. “Time for your prayers, boys.”
The little scamp looked completely innocent as he gazed up, his blue eyes shining. “We won’t have to ask Jesus to keep you safe tonight, ’cause you’re here with us.”
“That’s right. Not tonight.” John bent and kissed the child’s forehead.
As his sons murmured their private pleas to the Lord, John recalled how close he’d come to losing his life the previous November when he’d been shot through his calf muscle—an injury his family knew nothing about, but one that still ached whenever it rained. He thought back on the morning when he and several of his buddies were chasing after a raiding party up the Tulpehocken Path. They hadn’t seen any sign of the group since.
Although the French and their allied Indians were gone for now, John knew they’d be back, and soon. What was to stop them, as long as James Ambercrombie was commanding the English forces? Upon the newly arrived general’s first and only encounter with the enemy, the pathetic excuse for a leader had set a new standard for incompetence by causing the senseless slaughter of many of his own soldiers.
John thanked God that he was stationed at Fort Henry with Captain Busse instead of with the army at Lake Champlain. Had King George dispatched an even halfway capable commander, the French would’ve been pushed back across the Great Lakes long ago and taken their Indian allies with them.
Now the French would be even more emboldened.
And Beaver Cove was in more danger of attack than ever before.
At the hearth, Lily stirred the huge footed pot containing the cubed potatoes and smoked ham she was preparing for tomorrow’s Sabbath meal. Then, unhooking a potholder, she plucked the pressing iron from the hot metal plate sitting among more fiery coals and brought it to the worktable to iron John’s finely woven white shirt for the morning church meeting. She wanted him to look his best. Smoothing a hand over the material, Lily lost herself in the memory of the smile he’d given her earlier this evening when thanking her for preparing his bath, and her heart ached with longing.
“Why are you cooking and ironing at this late hour?”
Something inside her went completely still as John descended the loft ladder. She did her best to sound casual as she spoke in low tones. “I’m cooking for tomorrow, the Sabbath.” The realization struck her then that with the rest of the household now abed, the two of them were in the common room…alone.
He seemed unaware of her discomfort. “Sunday. I’d lost track of the days.” Having reached the bottom, he started toward her, the chiseled lines of his face relaxing into an amiable smile.
Lily’s inward struggle made her hands tremble, and she gripped the iron harder. She’d never found it hard to converse with John before. He’d been as much a friend as he was the owner of her papers. It was not his fault that her traitorous feelings had grown beyond her control. Say something. Don’t make him suspicious. She drew a shaky breath. “We womenfolk find it easier if each of us prepares one large dish to share with everyone. And of course you’ll need freshly pressed clothing, since folks wear their finest to service.”
John walked past her and plucked a cup from a shelf, pouring himself a steaming cup of tea from the pot left near the fire. “You’ve grown up to be a very responsible young woman, Lily.”
Did he have to stay so close? She put more effort into ironing.
“I doubt your sister Rose would’ve been so eager to help me purchase your papers if she’d known you’d end up in a remote settlement like this, where an Indian attack could happen without warning. I’m even more surprised that after your other sister married a man of wealth, she wasn’t able to convince her husband to buy your papers from me.” He eased down in the dining chair nearest her. “You probably don’t know I thank God every day that she didn’t.”
Lily didn’t know how to respond. To think John actually thanked God for her, thought of her every day, just as she did him! Of course, his thoughts were undoubtedly far more proper, she chided herself. How would his opinion of her change if he learned that Mariah’s letters never failed to remind her of Colin’s offer to retrieve her—or worse yet, if John discovered the depth of her yearning for him?
She filled her lungs once more and reined in her dangerous thoughts while she adjusted the fabric. Then, picking up the iron, she changed to a safer subject. “The older boys have been very good about searching the surrounding woods for signs of danger.” At his appreciative nod, she continued. “While Matt and Luke were out the other day, Matt shot a buck near the creek. The boys came back for the horse to haul the buck home. Without so much as calling me to help, they managed to string up the stag and dress it out. I knew they wanted to surprise me, so I didn’t let them catch me peeking out the window.”
John tipped his head in thought. “And I found the three of you out planting when I arrived. You’ve done a great job with them, Lily. I especially appreciate your tender care of Susan.”
The intrusion of his wife’s name squelched the rush of tenderness Lily felt for John. Reminding herself yet again that he was a man known for his kind words to everyone and that she had no reason to feel slighted, she forced a light note into her tone. “Well in truth, Davy can be quite the handful from time to time. But I do love watching our little Emma trying to act the grown-up young lady.”
John sighed, drawing her attention to him as a wistful flash of regret creased his forehead. “I’m missing so many of their growing-up years. I know I’ll never get them back.”
“Perhaps. But you are putting your life at risk patrolling along the Susquehanna River. Every day you and the rest of the militiamen put yourselves between the war parties and us. That’s worth a lot.”
He gave a noncommittal shrug. “Sorry to say, the war’s not going well at the moment. And Susan has gotten so much worse…. Even I can see that. I must demand this time that all of you leave here for Philadelphia.”
His words troubled Lily. She shook out his still-warm shirt and draped it over a chairback as his resonant voice went on.
“If you could have the family’s clothing packed by Monday morning, I’d be able to travel with you—at least as far as the mouth of the Susquehanna. I’ll sign off on your bond papers, so once you get my dear ones to Susan’s family, you’ll be free to travel on to your sister’s.”
So John had also thought about her indenturement contract nearing its conclusion. She replaced the iron on its heating plate on the hearth and turned to face him. “If you’re worried about me leaving before the war ends, pray be at rest. I assure you I would never abandon Susan and the children. I love them far too much.”
His deep blue eyes slanted downward as a grateful grin spread across his features. “I never for a moment thought you’d abandon them. In fact, I’d planned to pay extra for your irreplaceable service to my family until the war ends. Even after that, if you’re not opposed to remaining with us. But now with Susan having grown so much worse, I fear her only hope is that her father will hire the best physicians his money can afford. There’s no other recourse.”
Lily had to be honest with him as she met his gaze with an unwavering one of her own. “Perhaps had we gone, as you urged her, last fall, things would be different now. But I’m afraid leaving here at the moment is no longer possible. Surely you can see that.”
He didn’t respond right away. Lowering his head, he rubbed a hand over his face, then looked up with a kind of desperation he’d never before shown. “Her need to be under the care of a competent doctor is so urgent now. I won’t accept her argument any longer, that she always wants to be here when I get leave.”
“John.” Lily spoke frankly, despite knowing her words would inflict unbearable pain. “I doubt Susan would survive as much as the wagon ride to the Swatara. Even if she could, there’s the matter of days she’d have to spend on a damp keelboat afterward and then the trip from the mouth of the river on to Philadelphia. I understand it’s at least fifty miles overland to the city, or a weeklong voyage around the Chesapeake peninsula. Such a journey in her fragile condition is out of the question. It’s been three months since she’s been able to endure even the brief wagon ride to the MacBrides’ for church. I’m grateful everyone loves her so much they’re willing to crowd in here every week so she can be part of the service.”
“So am I, Lily-girl. So am I.” John’s attempt at a smile was a pitiful failure. He remained silent for so long, Lily was loath to intrude on his thoughts. Finally he spoke again. “I still have to believe there’s a way to make this happen. I’ll speak to the men tomorrow to see what can be done.”
At a loss as to how to answer such blind faith, Lily turned back to the fire to check the potatoes. Susan’s worst fear had now become hers. If they were all sent to Philadelphia, she’d be expected to travel on afterward to Mariah’s. She would never see John again.