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JANUARY 1619
“I believe Lydia has an admirer,” Catherine told Noah one evening after the girl had gone to bed. She and Noah sat by the fire, Noah smoking his pipe, Catherine hand-stitching a baby garment. For days, she and Lydia had both been working on small things, especially now that Catherine had dismissed classes until the blustery winter weather let up.
“What makes you think she has a suitor?”
“She has lingered behind after services the past several Sundays. Twice I have seen a young man walking her home, but he doesn’t come all the way to the house; he leaves her near the communal oven.”
“Well, I shall bring that to a halt!”
“Oh, leave it be, Noah. I would not have told you if I thought it would make you angry.”
“She’s mine for the full seven years of her indenture! I won’t have it!”
“Noah, please. I’m certain it’s harmless. The poor girl needs something sweet to think about. Surely you didn’t think she would stay with us the entire time. She’s young, and there are so few women in the colony, hardly any unattached. Surely you expected she’d marry one day.”
“You are too soft, Catherine.”
“And you have other things to think about. A ship will arrive soon and you will be named governor, remember?” She had learned of late that to remind him of his high-flown ambition effectively diffused his anger over very nearly everything. She had begun to hope he would indeed be named governor for it might even diffuse his anger with her once her baby was born.
In bed that night, he reached for her, which to her relief he hadn’t done in quite a spell. But she didn’t want Noah’s attentions now. She didn’t want anyone but Phyrahawque. Fearing for the safety of the child in her womb, she especially did not want Noah’s rough handling of her tonight.
“Noah, please. The baby.”
“I have my needs, Catherine! You are being derelict in your duty!”
“It will only be for a short while longer.”
“By my reckoning, spring is more than a short while longer.”
“It’s possible I was off by a few weeks. I have never carried a child to term. I don’t want to risk injuring it this far along.”
“Damn you,” he grumbled.
Long into the night, an odd noise awakened Catherine. Turning over, she realized Noah was not in bed beside her. She heaved her heavy bulk upright but only had to take a few steps toward the door to realize what was taking place.
Noah was with Lydia! The girl’s alarmed cry must have awakened her. Her eyes rolled skyward. What should she do? She paused to listen. Judging from the sounds coming from the other bedchamber, the vile deed was already done, and were she to interfere now, Noah would no doubt lash out at her and hurt the baby. She could not risk that. Fearing he would soon sneak back to bed, she decided her best course was to simply crawl back in bed and pretend she’d heard nothing. She would figure something out on the morrow.
The next morning, stealing a quick look into Lydia’s bedchamber told her the girl had fled. All her things were missing. In her haste to leave, she had not drawn the front door completely shut. The fire in the hearth was again a mere pile of ashes. The house was not only frigid, but ice crystals had formed on the sides of the pot hanging on the spit.
“Noah!” Catherine shook her husband awake. “Lydia ran away in the night.”
He sat up, brushing sleep from his eyes, his blond curls tousled. “Damned female. Now what am I going to do?”
Catherine parked both hands on her hips. She knew exactly what he meant, and she was tempted to inform him she knew exactly what he’d done last night. But she wisely refrained.
“What you are going to do is let her go,” she said. “If you brought her back, she’d only run away again. Apparently she is determined to be with her young man, and there is nothing you, nor I, can do to stop her.”
Nonetheless, Noah set out that day, determined to track the girl down. After all, he maintained, he’d been cheated out of seven years of service still owed him on her indenturefor which he had paid handsomely. With Catherine’s money.
Alone that day, Catherine again fell to worrying over her situation. She’d been counting on Lydia being there to help stave off Noah’s anger when her child was born, or at the very least, to go for help once his fury exploded, as she fully expected it would. She also desperately needed help with the household chores. She was already unable to make it up the ladder to the loft to scoop food from the barrels for their meals. With Lydia gone, she would have to think ahead each day and ask Taquitock to fetch things for her when he was here, or somehow persuade Noah to help.
Her bulk was increasing at such a rapid rate she knew her calculations had been off by a month or more. The child was definitely Phyrahawque’s, no doubt conceived the first time or two they’d been together . . . when Noah was in Henricus.
She also knew she’d need help delivering the baby, for that was something she certainly couldn’t manage alone. But if the midwife were a white woman and her child was not white, then what? The color of her child’s skin alone would attest to her crime.
The following Sabbath, although Noah was in high spirits, Catherine felt especially low. Afterward, when Abby and Nancy approached her on the green, it took all the will she could muster to paste a smile on her face.
“You don’t look well, dear,” Abby began. Her eyes dropped to Catherine’s bulky middle. “From the look of it, you could deliver any day now.”
Catherine gulped back her tears.
Nancy reached to embrace her friend. “Everything will be fine once yer free of the burden yer carryin’.”
When Catherine’s chin trembled afresh, Abby asked, “What is it, sweetie?”
“I . . . I’m afraid.”
“Abby and I ’ave both had children,” Nancy said in a soothing tone. “I had two. We came out of it alive.”
“It’s not that. It’s just that . . . what will I do when the time comes? Especially if there’s no one to send for help?”
“Lydia has not come back?”
Catherine shook her head. “Noah thinks she and her young man are somewhere in the woods, that friendly Indians took them in.”
“I understand your concern,” Abigail said, patting Catherine’s cold hands, which were clutching her worn cloak about her ample middle.
“Would you like me to come and stay with you?” Nancy asked.
“Your infants are still suckling. It would be too much for you.”
“How about Mary?” Nancy asked Abigail. “She knew exactly what to do when my time came.”
“Mary?” Catherine looked from one to the other.
“Of course, why did I not think of that?” Abigail turned to her husband. “Adam, you must bring Mary in to stay with Catherine until her baby comes.”
“Mary?” Catherine murmured, thinking she’d never heard anyone mention that name. “Who is Mary?”
Abigail laughed. “None of us could pronounce her name, so we all took to calling her Mary. She is very capable.”
“She knew exactly what to do when my time came,” Nancy said again.
“You might have seen her when you visited. She’s Indian, an older woman from the same tribe as the young girl I sent you last year when you needed help with Victor.”
“Oh. Oh!” Alarm spiraled through Catherine. “You mustn’t tell Noah that Mary and Lanneika are from the same tribe.”
“Was there some problem, dear?”
Catherine glanced over one shoulder lest Noah be standing near enough to hear. “No, but their tribe is one with which Noah seems to have a grievance. You’ve nothing to fear, it’s just something between him and . . .”
“I’ll not say a word, sweetie. At any rate, Adam and I rarely have occasion to speak with Noah. Nancy, be sure and tell Jack not to say anything. There . . .” She turned back to Catherine. “It’s all settled.”
That afternoon, as planned, Adam brought into town the Indian woman they called Mary. Catherine gave her the second bedchamber, telling Adam she’d like her to stay both day and night, at least until the baby came. She did not worry for Mary’s safety or virtue, as her stout build and stern features would more likely inspire fear in Noah than lust.
“She generally takes one day off a week,” Adam told Catherine. “Spends it with her family in her village. However, I’m sure she’ll comply with your wishes.” He turned to say a few words to Mary, and the Indian woman nodded as if she understood.
“Does she speak English?” Catherine asked, walking beside Adam back through the house.
“She hardly speaks at all.” He grinned. “But, she seems to understand English. Abby says she’s quite efficient and, considering her age, works quickly.”
Noah wasn’t home when Mary came, and when he did return that evening, he hardly seemed to notice the Indian woman’s presence.
“I need help, Noah,” Catherine began, thinking she’d have to convince him to let her keep Mary. “I can no longer climb the ladder to . . .”
“Fine, fine; just keep her out of my way.”
When Taquitock came the following afternoon, Catherine saw he and Mary exchange a look and knew that by nightfall Phyrahawque would know she was no longer alone in the house with Noah.
A fortnight later, word came from Kiccowtan that two ships had been spotted on the far horizon. From then on, Noah was oblivious to anything but plans for his own bright future.
For the next several days, bad weather and a heavy snowstorm kept the ships from the bay and Noah and the two women cooped up indoors. Catherine was aware of the Indian woman’s alert black eyes following her everywhere. As Adam had indicated, Mary rarely spoke, but she efficiently obeyed any request Catherine made of her. Catherine gratefully let the Indian woman take over all the cooking and cleaning while she rested and waited, as calmly as possible given the circumstances, by the fire.
During the inclement weather, Noah paced. On the first day the snow let up, he vanished. Once during that day, Mary quietly addressed Catherine. “I see you one day. In village. You Phyrahawque’s flame-haired woman.”
Catherine turned an alarmed gaze on her. “Mary, please do not ever mention that in front of my husband. It is true, I am Phyrahawque’s woman, and, because of that, I and my baby, Phyrahawque’s baby, are in grave danger.”
The Indian woman nodded and said nothing further.
On the day the two ships finally sailed into Jamestown’s harbor, an emissary from King James himself stepped ashore, carrying an edict demanding that Captain Samuel Argall, deputy-governor of Virginia, return immediately to England to answer charges leveled against him by the investors of the New Virginia Company. The same edict stated that in Argall’s place, Captain Nathaniel Powell would serve as deputy-governor until Sir George Yeardley arrived to resume his former position.
When a runner came to the house to deliver the news to Noah Colton, he was livid and, without a word to his wife, left at once for the pier. Fearing her husband’s volatile temper, Catherine, who felt her time was drawing near, seized the moment to take the only precaution she had thought of to take, hide his musket and sword. Once she’d located the weapons, she gave Mary explicit instructions to take both to the loft and hide them as securely as possible.
When Noah returned home that evening he was still in a rage. “How dare they?” he demanded of Catherine, as they sat down to an early supper. “Not a man I spoke with today can understand the reason behind Powell’s appointment, or Yeardley’s. Nothing was accomplished under Yeardley’s rule. Why put him back in office? It makes no sense!”
Catherine tried her best not to get caught up in Noah’s tirade for his agitation was only adding to her discomfort. Her birthing pains had begun in earnest that afternoon, and she wished to keep the news from him as long as possible.
“Powell has no experience and even fewer qualifications. He is lacking in every area deemed necessary to hold office! Something must be done!” He slammed a fist onto the table.
Catherine jumped. “Noah, please; calm yourself.”
“Calm myself? How am I to stay calm in the face of such idiocy? My future hinged on this appointment. Now all is lost and all my brilliant wife can say is: calm myself!” The veins in his neck popped out as the color in his face deepened.
Catherine worked to steady her own frayed nerves. “Where is Argall now?”
“Already on board ship.”
“Well, at least you should be able to sell your pelts. That should make you happy.”
“Pelts be dammed!”
Suddenly an anguished cry escaped Catherine, and she clutched her middle. Warm fluid seeped from between her legs, soaking her undergarments. “Mary!”
Beside her in an instant, the Indian woman helped her into bed. Catherine heard the front door slam shut and knew Noah had left the house. His absence provided her with a modicum of relief during the grueling hours that followed. More than once, Catherine was thankful for Mary’s presence as she had never given birth before and had no idea how painful and intense the experience really could be.
Mary worked quickly and efficiently. When the trying ordeal was finally over and she’d cleansed and snugly wrapped the newborn infant, a boy, in a warm blanket, she placed the tiny bundle into Catherine’s outstretched arms. Tears of joy swam in her eyes as she gazed down upon the most beautiful baby she’d ever beheld in her life. When one tiny brown hand clasped hold of her finger and held on tight, Catherine’s heart filled to overflowing with a love more intense than any she’d ever known.
Through tear-filled eyes, she gazed up at Mary. “Go! Tell Phyrahawque I need him. Now!”