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IT TOOK SOME TALL TALKING, but eventually Catherine managed to convince everyone she would be just fine right there in Jamestown. That with Lanneika’s help, she could manage quite well on her own. Her school had been in recess long enough. Why, the children had probably forgotten all she’d taught them last year. It was time now to get on with their lessons. Yes, yes, it was. Why, only this morning the reverend had said to let the dead bury the dead and that the living must turn their minds to other things. Well, that was exactly what she intended to do. She was not the least bit tired, not at all. In fact, she felt full of energy; truly she did. Though every last one maintained she looked thinner and more wan than they’d ever seen her, she completely disagreed. No, no she didn’t. She was not at all tired, or afraid to be alone. Not at all.
Because, she told herself, after everyone had done precisely as she asked and left her alone, she would not be alone for long. Noah would soon be there. She did not know how long he would wait to come to her, but she had no doubt that he would. They were meant for one another. Had they not pledged their love for one another before God, even as they were children and did not know what “love” or “marriage” meant? God knew they loved one another, and now, at long last, He, in His infinite wisdom, had found a way for them to be together. So, until Noah came to her, she could, and would, manage very well on her own.
However, fearing she would reveal her uplifted spirits when she came face-to-face with Noah, she did choose not to attend the funeral services held two days later for Charity. But considering her grim circumstances, she knew her absence would be excused, if not expected.
The following week her great expectations for her bright future gave her all the energy she needed to spring from bed every morning ready to face the day. She posted a notice on the meetinghouse door stating that school would resume immediately. On the designated day, she was delighted when all her pupils, save one, returned, and that was because the little boy himself had succumbed to illness that past winter. But his younger brother was there to take his place, so she still had five English boys and two little girls. The Indian children had not yet shown up. But she hadn’t yet gotten word to Tamiyah to tell her to bring them.
During the next few weeks, it amused her that when the children were there, Lanneika managed always to find something to do indoors. It finally dawned on her that the shy Indian girl was absorbing everything Catherine was attempting to teach the children. A few days after she’d reviewed numbers and sums, Lanneika began to refer to “two” of this and “three” of that. Lanneika, Catherine realized, was a quick study and in no time at all began to correctly use more and more English words, though she often arranged them in an odd, even comical way, which always made Catherine laugh.
Lanneika, in turn, seemed pleased to explain the meanings of many Indian words. The Powhatan word for water, she told Catherine, was suckquahan. The word powhatan, she said, simply meant falling water, or waterfall, which Lanneika demonstrated by dumping a bucket of water on the ground. Keshowse meant sun and a dog was attemous. When Lanneika tried to teach Catherine the Indian word for apple, she simply scampered to the loft and came back down carrying one, which she called a maracah. The Indian girl’s mischievous nature and her humor amused Catherine. She genuinely liked Lanneika and enjoyed her presence more and more.
In addition to the feeling of satisfaction she felt over Lanneika’s progress, the children’s sweet faces and lively antics also helped to keep her spirits up as she patiently waited for Noah to knock at her door.
Attending Sabbath services on the third Sunday following Victor’s death, she was happy as always to see her brother and Nancy, but dismayed to find that Noah was not present, nor any member of his family. She so wished to see him and his new baby, whom she assumed she would one day mother, since, of course, he would bring his infant daughter with him to his new marriage.
That day, she made her way back home, though not alone, as John Fuller made it a habit now to escort her home from services. As she walked, she assured herself she would see Noah again one day. She knew what her future held now, and that knowledge filled her heart to overflowing. The good Lord had smiled on them at last and she and Noah would soon be together as man and wife. The pair of them would then do exactly as the reverend had said at Victor’s funeral; turn their minds to the living. Marrying Noah and becoming his wife had been her lifelong dream, and once again, the fulfillment of her dream was within easy grasp.
It did not occur to her that her good spirits might be misinterpreted by John, or any one of the other three men who’d begun to show her attention, Thomas York, who also worked for Adam at Harvest Hill; Ed Henley, a freeman who farmed his own fifty acres; and Jonathan Reed, who’d courted her before she’d wed Victor and who still hadn’t found a bride of his own.
Still, on those days when her joy seemed to mount uncontrollably, she’d chastise herself for letting her imagination run away with her. Her own husband in the ground barely a month and in her thoughts she was already wed to another man! Surely God would punish her . . . but how could He? God Himself had plucked both Victor and Charity from this earth. She had done all in her power to keep Victor alive, but God’s will was God’s will, and no mere human was powerful enough to change that.
Yet, as the days grew longer and warmer, and still Noah did not come, it took every last ounce of her fortitude to continue on without him. How long would it be before he came, she demanded of the Heavens? How long would they have to wait to marry? Would the whole town turn against them if they married long before the accepted time of mourning had passed? But how could she wait a full year to become Noah’s wife? She couldn’t! She doubted he could wait that long either. On the other hand, judging from the increased attention she was receiving from other unmarried men in Jamestown, apparently it was perfectly acceptable for a young widow to remarry right away.
Both Jonathan and Ed had already made veiled attempts to propose marriage. John Fuller seemed a bit reticent, but perhaps it was because he’d been around during Victor’s final days and believed it was too early yet for her to think of marrying again. She’d made a point of voicing her feelings about that to him on several occasions.
“I’ve only just become a widow, John. It would not be proper for me to entertain thoughts of marrying again so soon.” She felt a bit guilty for speaking in direct opposition to what was in her heart, but it couldn’t be helped. She had no intention of marrying anyone save Noah Colton, but she couldn’t proclaim that truth aloud!
Many nights she lay alone in bed, sleep eluding her as her mind raced on unchecked with plans for their bright future together. They would live here, of course. Noah would continue with his trading, and she with her school. With his little daughter on her hip, they would already be a real family. Her own belly would soon be swollen with child, she knew it. Lanneika would stay on, as Catherine would need help with a husband and two small children to look after. She’d have a son¾an adorable little boy with twinkling blue eyes and curly hair, like the little Indian boy, Pamoac’s. Odd, she laughed aloud at her own musings. Why would she suddenly think of Pamoac? She hastened to push the image aside and finally drifted off to sleep thinking how happy she’d be to have Noah in bed beside her every night and to soon feel his child quickening within her belly.
The next afternoon, as she mindlessly patted the bed rug back into place on her bed after Lanneika had spent a good two hours beating the dust from it, her thoughts once again ran away with her. This time a vivid reminder of the first time she and Noah had lain together, the night he left, only to return to her later, filled her mind. Chills raced up her spine as she remembered the delicious feel of his lips pressed to hers, his strong chest crushed to her breasts, his caresses, the feel of his hardness against her stomach and her bare legs wrapped around him, then the rapturous moment when she realized he’d spent his seed within her. She dreamily lay down onto the bed as shudders of remembered pleasure rippled through her.
Stop! She shook herself, blushing at her own wantonness as she scrambled to her feet. She shouldn’t be thinking such shameful thoughts!
She hurried from her bedchamber and went outdoors in search of Lanneika. Outside, she noted the shadows lengthening. Perhaps Lanneika had already gone for the day. But, no, Catherine found her behind the shed struggling to balance several heavy logs she’d pulled from what remained of the stack of firewood Jack had left for her.
“Let me help you!” Catherine cried, hurrying toward the smaller girl.
Grinning, Lanneika glanced up. “I strong. I carry.”
“You are not as strong as I.” Catherine knelt to tug at an especially heavy log. But found it wouldn’t budge. She stood back with a frown on her face, realizing that despite her earlier protests to the contrary, she did need a man around, if for nothing more than to do the heavy lifting and toting. Heaving a frustrated sigh, she looked about for a smaller piece of wood to take in for the night.
Lanneika had already taken her load inside and was now hurrying back outdoors. “One more I get.”
“Very well.” Catherine cast a last glance at the sparse pieces of wood scattered about on the ground before she also turned to go back inside.
How soon would it be before all the firewood Jack had chopped was gone, she wondered? She supposed she could say something to him or Adam when she saw them next Sabbath. They always asked how she fared, and Adam and Abigail always renewed their invitation for her to join them at Harvest Hill. Or . . . she could say something to John Fuller, as he was always asking if she needed anything, but she hated to take advantage of his good nature, or for him to get in the habit of taking care of her since she had no intention of making that a permanent arrangement. It dawned on her then that her high spirits about Noah were beginning to sag. How much longer before he appeared at her door, she wondered irritably? Didn’t he know she needed his help right now?
The next afternoon, after the children had gone for the day, Catherine wearily decided to spend the few remaining hours of daylight turning over the soil in her garden. It would be time to plant soon, and, with the wide stretch of land Victor and Jack had cleared at the edge of the woods, she would be able to have a much larger garden this year. She had hoped Noah would be here to till the soil for her, but as he had not yet appeared, that grueling task still lay undone at her feet.
She made her way into the shed in search of the battered old hoe Adam had left behind. Finding it, she headed back out, her eyes on the ground as she thought ahead to the backbreaking work before her. Nearing the garden gate, she at last glanced up only to stop dead in her tracks when she saw the huge pile of neatly stacked firewood rising before her. Firewood, which had not been there the night before!
Dropping the hoe, she turned and ran back into the house where she knew Lanneika was busy stirring up another of her concoctions for Catherine’s supper that night.
“Lanneika! Lanneika!” She jerked open the front door. “Where did all the firewood come from?”
Lanneika looked up. “I not know. It there this morning when I come.”
Catherine’s brow puckered. “If it was there this morning, that means . . . someone must have brought it during the night or very early this morning. Did you not see anyone when you arrived today?”
The Indian girl shook her head, then turned back to stirring whatever was in the pot suspended over the flames.
Confusion still etched on her face, Catherine retraced her steps back outdoors. It must have been Noah, she decided, her spirits lifting a mite. Perhaps he had come by late last night. Perhaps he had hidden one of his packages in the shed and noticed she was nearly out of firewood. How very like him to want to help her! Perhaps it was quite late when he came, and he had not knocked on her door because he hadn’t seen a light. That was it. Noah had been here, dear, sweet, thoughtful Noah. He had come at last!
She picked up the hoe she’d dropped and moved toward the stretch of treeless land where Jack and Victor had meant to plant corn and squash this year. And with a lighter heart set about the difficult task of breaking up the clods of hard dirt, pausing on occasion to toss aside a pebble or misplaced piece of shell. One long hour into her work, she straightened, her blue-green eyes gazing out across the large area still to be turned over. There were days when it seemed the work would never end, and yet, it would soon be easier, she told herself. When Noah was there to help her, every task would seem lighter. His teasing banter would cheer her, his merry laughter carry her through the day.
She turned with fresh resolve to her task and worked until again the shadows lengthened, and the sun began to dip lower in the sky. The tempting scent of whatever it was Lanneika was preparing for her dinner drifted toward her on the breeze, which was also beginning to turn chilly.
Lanneika would be leaving soon, and once more she would return to her empty house and eat her meal in silence, her heart aching for the company of the one man she truly loved and had longed to be with her entire life. Though it had been just over a month since they’d buried Victor, at times she felt guilty that she had almost ceased to think of him. Noah becoming her husband was all that filled her thoughts and dreams now. She should still be mourning Victor, but how could she make herself feel something she did not?
Dear God, her worrisome thoughts turned heavenward as she sank to her knees right where she was. Dear Lord, she prayed, her eyes squeezed shut, her hands folded before her, please, please forgive me for no longer mourning my husband Victor, but dear Lord, please, please let nothing keep Noah from me! Not now, not after all we’ve been through. We deserve to be together and to be happy at last; truly we do.
Please make haste to send him to me soon, dear Lord. I need him now. Thank you for your many blessings, Lord. I beseech you to enfold Victor and Charity in your arms forevermore. Amen. Oh, and, please, dear Lord, help me to rein in my wanton thoughts and to behave in a seemly manner when I am out amongst the townsfolk . . . at least until Noah and I become man and wife. Thank you, Lord.
When the aching muscles in Catherine’s shoulders relaxed, and her thoughts and mind settled again into stillness, she opened her eyes but was at once startled to see some yards away from her at the edge of the forest what she at first thought was a vision. A vision of an Indian sitting astride an enormous white stallion!
Not taking her eyes from the image, she slowly stood up. She raised a hand to shield her gaze from the long rays of the setting sun that shone around the vision like a halo. Even in the glare, she could see that the Indian brave atop the horse was an especially tall man. His long muscular legs were covered with doeskin breeches. His powerfully sculpted chest and arms were bare except for the animal skin that lay draped across his back. She felt her breath quicken with a mixture of fear and alarm. What did the Indian want?
Something seemed to draw her toward him, but fear kept her rooted to the spot where she stood. Because the glaring sunlight shone so brightly in her eyes, she could not clearly see the Indian’s features, but she could plainly see that his piercing black eyes were looking straight at her.
Suddenly the spell was broken when Lanneika ran from the front of the house toward the Indian brave sitting astride the enormous white horse. Catherine watched as the powerful man stretched one strong arm down to encircle the girl’s lithe body, and in a single swift motion, lifted her up and settled her in front of him on the horse. Then he pressed his heel into the beast’s side. The mighty steed whirled around, and in a flash of flowing white mane and tail the vision disappeared into the woods.
Catherine stood transfixed. Who might the Indian brave be? Lanneika’s beloved? Her brother, or perhaps; a friend from her village come to fetch her? Whoever he was, she decided, blinking herself back to her surroundings, he was magnificent. And the sight she’d witnessed between the pair of them just now struck her as breathtakingly beautiful.
* * * *
CATHERINE AROSE UNUSUALLY early the following morning. Still fresh in her mind was the memory of the magnificent Indian brave sitting astride his enormous white stallion. For some reason, she had to know who the man was. She was up, dressed, and waiting for Lanneika when the girl quietly let herself into the house.
“Oh!” said Lanneika, surprise evident in her tone when she spotted Catherine busily stirring something in the pot over the flames. “You early up.”
Catherine grinned. Lanneika’s manner of speaking continued to bring a smile to her lips. “Yes, I am early up. Come, I have already made our breakfast.” She filled two trenchers with steaming hot oatmeal, then led the way to the board table where she’d already laid out two wooden spoons.
Lanneika hesitantly slid onto one of the backless benches, no doubt feeling somewhat ill-at-ease over being served by her employer instead of the other way around.
Catherine took her place at the table and began to eat. “I thought we might talk a bit before the children come this morning,” she began pleasantly.
Chewing small bites of oatmeal, Lanneika’s dark eyes remained fixed on Catherine’s face.
Catherine wasn’t quite sure how to begin. She’d never asked the girl any questions of a personal nature before. “Is . . . your village close by?”
Lanneika shook her head, then, shrugged. “Sometime close, sometime long way. Not long way when I come on horse.”
“Did you come on horseback this morning?”
Lanneika nodded.
“I don’t believe you’ve ever told me the name of your tribe.”
“My tribe Warrastanundas.”
“Oh.” Catherine didn’t attempt to pronounce the convoluted name. “Do you have brothers and sisters?”
“Many brothers, many sisters.”
“I see.” Catherine hesitated, the one question she longed to ask burning like a flame in her mind. Why she felt she had to know the answer seemed quite silly to her, yet for some reason, she fervently wanted to know. “Well, I . . . happened to see you leave last evening with an Indian brave. Was he, perhaps . . . one of your brothers?”
Lanneika’s face brightened. “Phyrahawque. He brother.”
Catherine leaned forward. “Farea-huck?”
Lanneika laughed at Catherine’s pronunciation of the odd name. “Phy-ra-haw-que.” The girl tried to sound out the word as Catherine often did with her.
Catherine’s brow furrowed. It appeared Lanneika was saying a word that sounded very like ‘Fire-hawk,’ although she knew that could not be right. Still, she tried it. “Phy-ra-hawk?”
Lanneika’s shiny dark head nodded vigorously. “Phyrahawque!” Her dark eyes twinkled merrily.
“Phyrahawque.” Catherine repeated, more strongly this time. “The name suits him,” she said, thinking to herself that, indeed, it did. She’d never seen a more arresting, powerful-appearing man in her life. Why, if she were a young Indian maid, Lanneika’s magnificent brother Phyrahawque would be the very man she’d set her cap for!