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OVER THE NEXT FEW DAYS, it became evident to Catherine that some sort of rift had sprung up between her brother and Noah, though for now, she didn’t ask about it. She had enough on her plate trying to get past the hurt and betrayal she’d felt over seeing her beloved with a very pregnant wife by his side.
Stewing over her situation, she realized that although she would never understand the reason why, she and Noah Colton were apparently not meant to be husband and wife. At length she concluded that since she refused to go back to England, she had no choice but to get on with her life here the best way she could. There was certainly plenty to do every day.
Mornings, she arose at dawn along with the rest of the household and as cheerfully as she could set about helping Nancy and Abigail prepare the morning meal. After they’d eaten and Adam had left for the plantation, the servant boy slung the wooden yoke with empty buckets dangling from either side over his shoulders and headed into the woods for water.
Over breakfast one morning of that first week, Catherine asked Adam where his land was situated.
Without looking up from his trencher of samp, a dish the Indians taught the English to make from cornmeal and water, he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the forest. “About eight miles that way.”
“And you travel there and back every day?”
“Doesn’t take long.” He paused to ask Abigail for another piece of flatbread. “Rolling road is still fairly clear.”
“Rolling road?” Catherine grinned.
“A special road cut through the forest. Before I built my own pier, I had to roll my hogsheads of tobacco into town in order to load ’em onto the ship. Now the ship comes to me.”
“How clever of you!”
“Every serious planter builds his own pier.”
“I take it these houses lie outside the old fort?”
Not looking up, he nodded. “Meetin’ house, storehouse, governor’s chambers, the church, and a few older huts, are all that’s left inside. Most of the early settlers have moved onto their own land.”
“But why do you live here when you have your own land?”
“We’re building a house.” He talked while he ate his breakfast. “Bigger.” He glanced up and winked at his wife.
Taking his meaning, Catherine looked from one to the other. “Abigail, are you . . .?”
A grin of pleasure made Abigail’s coarse features look almost pretty.
“That is wonderful!” Catherine cried. “I’m to be an aunt!”
Abigail laughed as she brushed an errant lock of hair from her brow. “I’m only a few months along.” Blushing, she turned to sternly address the servant boy. “When ye’ve finished eating, boy, we need more water. We wash today. Scoot, now.”
When Adam had saddled up and headed his horse through the woods, Catherine and Nancy helped Abigail begin the daunting task of washing the bed linens and large pile of soiled clothing. Catherine had noticed the past few evenings that Adam came in looking as if he’d spent the day wallowing in the mud with the pigs. His loose-fitting white linen shirt and gray jerkin, which had probably once been black, and his breeches were always caked with dried mud and grime.
“How far are we from the river’s edge?” Catherine asked, thinking the job might be easier if they simply doused the soiled garments in the river as she recalled her mother doing on washday at the farm. She helped Abigail heave two heavy buckets of water up to pour into a larger container that was simply a sawed-off wooden barrel.
“Water’s salty. Can’t drink it, can’t wash clothes in it, unless you don’t mind the grit.”
Nancy appeared from inside the house with another load of soiled linen, and the three women worked in silence. It was not long before Catherine’s forearms ached from the exertion. Overhead, the sun blazed down upon them.
“Does Adam ever return here for the midday meal?” Catherine asked.
Abigail shook her head. “He and the men generally eat something in the field. They’ve put up a fair-sized outbuilding where the bondsmen stay. Has its own hearth and oven. Menfolk can cook and fend for themselves when they have to.” She chuckled. “When the weather’s bad, Adam stays overnight there.”
Catherine pressed both fists into the aching flesh of her lower back. “What do you plan to do with this house once you’ve removed to the new one?”
Abigail swiped at the beads of sweat on her brow. “Trade it for something, I ’spose. Every new settler come with you and Nancy be in need of a house. Adam can trade for new tools, perhaps another horse, maybe even a cow.” She raised up from the tub of dirty water and looked back at the crude structure they called home. “This be a good house. Three rooms and a loft plenty big enough for a family.”
“I think the house be quite nice,” Nancy said. “Right and tight for a man and wife, and a babe or two.”
The three women turned back to their work.
That night after Catherine and Nancy lay down to sleep, Nancy, still awake on the pallet on the floor, addressed her companion in a low tone. “I be wondering what you plan to do now, miss?”
“You mean now that I am not to be . . . married,” Catherine replied sadly.
“I be so sorry how things turned out for ye, miss.”
Catherine sighed. “I’ve no choice now but to go on as best I can.”
“Will ye be going back to London, then?”
“Never! Though you are free to do as you please, Nancy.”
“I please to stay right here with you, miss.”
Catherine smiled ruefully. She was grateful for the fierce loyalty that had sprung up between herself and Nancy. Odd that they had lived side-by-side in the Montcrief townhome but had never known one another existed. Now Catherine could not imagine her life without the congenial servant girl. “I think in future, Nancy, it would be best if you addressed me simply as Cat, or Catherine. You are not a maidservant here.”
“Very well, miss . . . I mean, I shall try to remember.”
They lay in the darkness a spell longer, neither speaking. Before retiring, Catherine had slid back the window covering to let in fresh air during the night. She stared hard at the thin shaft of moonlight that spilled through the opening.
“I’ve been thinking, Nancy. Since there is no saying when, or if, John Rolfe will return to Jamestown, or if he will bring his son back with him, I should not count on tutoring young Thomas. But, if I were to buy this house from Adam, you and I could live here together. We’d each have our own room, and the common room would serve nicely for a school. For the children of Jamestown. Would you consider helping me start a Dame School here in the New World, Nancy?”
“How could I be of help to ye? I cain’t read or write meself, miss, I mean . . . Catherine.”
“Well, during the day, when the children are at their lessons, you could do the things for us, the cooking, the washing, that you are now doing for Abby. In the evenings, I could teach you to read and write.”
Nancy paused. “That be a right good plan, miss.” A moment later she added, “I expect the children will call ye Mistress Fielding, so perhaps that’s what I should call ye.”
Catherine grinned. Apparently, old habits were hard to break. “You may address me however you please, Nancy.”
* * * *
THE FOLLOWING EVENING after the supper dishes had been cleared and Abigail had sent the boy for water to wash them, Catherine drew the one straight-backed chair in the room nearer to where Adam sat on a tree stump before the fire. Staring hard at the glowing embers, he thoughtfully smoked a pipe that looked to have been fashioned from a corncob.
“There’s something I wish to speak with you about, Adam.”
He blinked as if bringing his thoughts back around. “What’s on your mind, sis?”
Catherine briefly told him of her idea to purchase the house from him and to start a school for the children of Jamestown.
“Well.” He considered. “I cannot say how the idea of a school will be received.”
“But surely no one could object to educating their children. Adam, there are now scores of grammar schools in England. Girls and boys alike are taught to read, and write, and to cipher. Of course, in smaller parishes, many young children still learn at their mothers’ knees. Others attend a Dame School such as the one you and I and Noah attended when we were children. I thought to model my school on that order.”
Adam nodded. “And what will you teach from? I know of no hornbooks in the entire colony.”
“Since I have no copy of The English Schoolmaster, I thought to begin teaching from the Anglican Prayer Book. Every family should have one. Later, I could send for a copy of Mr. Cootes’s text as well as other supplies, drawing paper, maps, French and Latin textbooks.”
Adam shook his head. “Latin would be of no use to anyone here, Cat. A few boys may indeed be sons, or grandsons, of English gentlemen, but boys here are not educated in the old way.”
“Well, then I shall begin with simple reading and writing, and, of course, ciphering. Every boy and girl should know how to read and write.” Glancing over her shoulder, she lowered her voice. “Not even Nancy can read or write. I find that appalling. Surely the Jamestown leaders would agree that every child should possess the rudiments of education.”
“Indeed, but again, how will you finance the venture? These ‘supplies’ you speak of will cost a good deal of money, and since you and Nancy cannot grow tobacco, I see no way you could earn the necessary funds to purchase what you’ll need. Or purchase the house from me. You’d best give up your lofty notion, sis, and do the sensible thing.”
“The sensible thing? And what would that be?”
“Get yourself another husband, of course. Have children, make a family.”
“I have no intention of marrying just yet,” Catherine replied firmly. “I am not ruling the possibility out, of course, but for now, marriage is not uppermost in my mind. Nor is it for Nancy.”
He ignored her protest. “You could both be wed inside a fortnight. There are a dozen or more men to every woman in the settlement. And not a woman here as comely as you.” He gazed sidelong at her. “You’ve become a real looker, Cat. Several unmarried men have remarked on your beauty.”
Her lips pursed. “Thank you, Adam, but at present, I do not wish to marry.”
He looked at her as if she’d gone daft.
“There’ll soon be plenty of women in the colony for the unwed men to choose from,” she added.
“How’s that?”
“The New Virginia Company plans to send some ninety women to Jamestown for the express purpose of becoming wives to the settlers.”
“And how did ye come to know this?”
“Pocahontas told me. My original plan was to be amongst them until the Rolfes engaged me to tutor their boy.”
“Ah. One day ye’ll have to tell me about your friendship with the esteemed Rolfes. For now, I know a good many men who’ll be pleased to know when this shipload of women will arrive.”
“In a twelvemonth, perhaps sooner. And . . .” she thrust up her chin, “I was told even they shall be free to choose whether or not to marry. My wish at present is to not take a husband.”
“Still as stubborn as when you were a girl.”
“I am not being stubborn, Adam. I believe my plan to start a school for the children of Jamestown is a good and worthy one, and I shall not abandon it.”
His jaw hardened. “You are being foolish, Cat. The cost is prohibitive and furthermore. . .”
She interrupted him as a fresh idea struck. “I could charge for lessons. A small sum for each pupil per term.”
“Very few colonists have money, and those who do would deign to spend it on lessons!” His tone turned peevish.
“But . . . how do you manage without money?”
“We trade, with the Indians and amongst ourselves. Corn, tobacco, tools are money here. We trade,” he repeated with emphasis.
“Very well, then. I shall trade lessons for provisions such as food, meat, and firewood. I intend to have a garden, so Nancy and I shall have plenty of fresh vegetables. I expect the forest is full of nuts and berries. Pocahontas said . . .”
“It is far more complicated than that.” He tone grew hard. “Great stores of food must be put away for winter. The meat and fish salted, peas, corn, fruit dried and stored in a place the rats won’t get at it. Two women alone couldn’t manage. It won’t work. You and Nancy will come live with us on the plantation, and there’s an end to it. Abigail will need help once the baby comes.”
Considering his stormy tone, Catherine chose to let the matter drop. For now. But not even her brother’s refusal to listen, or help, was enough to cause her to abandon her plan.
* * * *
“AND ANOTHER THING,” Adam said out of the blue the next morning as they all sat around the table breaking their fast over trenchers of pease porridge and corn bread, “this house sits too near the forest.”
Three women glanced up from their meal, but only one knew to whom he was speaking. “What does that have to say to anything?” Catherine demanded.
“Indians,” Adam replied simply.
“I done seen four already this mornin’,” put in the boy as he stretched a grubby hand past Catherine toward the last crumbs of cornbread on the platter.
“Exactly,” Adam said with satisfaction.
“But I thought the Indians and settlers lived peacefully together. You said you trade with them, and Pocahontas said . . .”
“Peace with Indians is always tenuous. You never know what will overset one. One overset Indian can lead to an all-out uprising.” Adam shoved his empty bowl aside.
“Adam’s right,” Abigail put in quietly. “The Indians live by their own rules. They’ve not yet learned our ways.”
“And I doubt they ever will.” Adam nearly toppled his dugout chair as he rose and stalked to where his jerkin and hat hung. He reached for the jerkin, then changed his mind and grabbed only his hat before yanking the door open. “Savages, the lot of ’em. I refuse to worry myself over two women living alone in town. You and Nancy will come live with us once the house is complete.”
That afternoon, as Abigail was stirring a pot of ragout for their dinner, she asked Nancy and Catherine to each take a long-handled griddle of flatbread to the outdoor oven. “It’s a bother, I know,” she apologized, “but Adam never got around to building an indoor oven, and now that we’ll be leaving soon, I doubt he will.”
Once the two of them reached the domed building, Catherine asked Nancy if she’d mind watching the bread while she ventured up the street alone.
Nancy readily agreed and Catherine set out. Unable to get Adam’s sharp words off her mind all day, she needed a few minutes to herself to think further on her plan. No matter what his arguments were, she was determined to see her idea through. Not only did she feel strongly that teaching the children of the colony to read and write was an excellent idea, but she had to latch onto something worthwhile to do with herself, and what better way to occupy her mind than with something as important and useful as teaching? Her father had always said if one wanted to be happy, one must find a need and fill it. To start a grammar school here in the New World would, indeed, make her feel as if she were contributing to the growth of a new nation. There was obviously a need here for a school. How could the colony hope to survive if the next generation could not read or write, or correctly figure sums?
It appeared to her that Adam’s concerns were more for himself than for her and Nancy’s safety. She could easily understand how he might worry about them living alone in town, but she and Nancy had managed to come through some pretty close scrapes on their own thus far. Adam wasn’t aware of that, of course, but all they’d endured leaving London and getting here made Catherine believe very strongly in her own resourcefulness. In the few short months since she’d left England, she’d felt herself change inside. She’d grown more confident, and she rather liked that quality in herself. And Nancy had proven herself quite clever in a pinch.
As far as Indians went, Catherine had no fear of them. How could she after meeting Pocahontas and finding her such a kind and gentle soul? She simply did not believe, as Adam claimed, that all Indians were savages. Men very often jumped to conclusions when it suited them. She knew Adam had a great deal on his mind, making a go of the plantation and taking care of a growing family. And she admired him immensely for that. Adam had become a man.
But, she was also now a woman. And in order to get past her grief and disappointment over Noah’s betrayal, she had to throw herself headlong into something. She also needed to prove to herself . . . and, yes, to Adam and to Noah . . . that she could succeed on her own.
Suddenly unwelcome thoughts of Noah flooded her mind. She wondered how she’d feel the next time she came face-to-face with him. She gazed from one side of the dusty road to the other as if she feared merely thinking about him would conjure him up. She wondered where he and his wife lived. Did the house Noah had built for his new wife resemble these crudely constructed huts, with a rickety pigpen in back and a couple of ramshackle outbuildings, or was he able to provide something finer?
The plainness of everything here offended Catherine’s love of beauty. Not a single house or fence or outbuilding bore paint. No cheerful color anywhere broke up the ever-present and monotonous . . . brown. Everything looked crude, plain, and most of all, dirty.
A sigh escaped her. Pocahontas had said white men’s houses were dirty. “Not clean like forest.” Thinking about the forest caused Catherine to turn around and head back down the road. If she did convince Adam to let her and Nancy stay here in Jamestown, she’d ask him to cut a window in the common room on the forest side of the house so she and her pupils could see out. The sight of trees and greenery was comforting to her, and being able to see beyond the plain walls of the house whilst standing at the head of the room teaching would be a pleasant diversion. She’d also figure out how to hang wooden boxes beneath all the windows in the house and fill them with colorful wildflowers.
When she stepped back indoors, Adam was there.
“Where have you been?” he demanded as if she’d committed a serious infraction.
“I walked up the road and back.”
He said nothing further, but it was clear he was displeased over . . . something.
“Can I do anything to help, Abigail?” Catherine asked pleasantly.
“No, thank you, sweetie, all done. Lad, take off your cap before you come to the table. We’ve a nice ragout tonight, Adam.”
Nancy was busy placing pieces of warm griddle-bread alongside each trencher while Abigail poured ale into a wooden tankard for Adam. Everyone else’s mug, made from gourd shells, contained fresh, cool water. After a quick prayer of thanksgiving for their food, the only sounds heard ’round the table were wooden spoons scraping against wooden trenchers. Adam was noticeably silent.
Presently, Abigail addressed him. “The weather was pleasant today; I expect the men got a good deal of work done on the house.”
“House is coming along. Men have fallen behind transplanting the tobacco seedlings. Tobacco flies are swarmin’. Won’t be anything left to harvest if nothing’s tended.” He continued speaking, his tone sullen. “Soon as the house is finished, there’s the barn and new drying sheds to build. This year’s crop will be far bigger than last year and we barely had room then to hang the leaves. I need more sheds.”
Abigail began brightly, “Well, I don’t know why the four of us . . .” her gaze took in the two other women and the boy, “couldn’t come and sweep the seedlings for you.”
Adam slammed his tankard onto the table. “I will not have you in the field this year, Abigail, not in your condition. I need men. Able-bodied men.”
In the silence that followed, Catherine thought again how much Adam reminded her of her father, spouting off at anyone who happened to be nearby when something was bothering him. Thinking about her father brought tears to her eye. Despite his sometimes foul temper, she missed him terribly and wished with all her heart she could have seen him again at least once more before he died. She had often heard her father say that a woman’s duty was to stay calm, keep silent, and do everything in her power to keep her menfolk comfortable and happy.
She was rather surprised when Nancy bravely spoke up.
“There was a goodly number of bond servants on our ship, and counting the other bark, there must be twice that number altogether.”
Catherine addressed him in a cheerful tone. “Have all the new indentured contracts been purchased?”
Adam sulked. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Perhaps you could inquire,” Abigail suggested. “We should have a good bit left from the sale of our tobacco leaves last fall. I see no reason why . . .”
“I haven’t a farthing to my name!” Adam spat out.
Catherine smiled to herself, then said quietly, “Perhaps I can help.”