With a fire in the hearth and the oven heating for baking day, the temperature in the kitchen rose to an unbearable level. I left both the front door and rear door ajar and stood in the slight breeze flowing between them.
Even the dough seemed too miserable to rise. “Double, you little fools,” I muttered at the bread pans. “Higher.”
There was a spate of giggles behind me. I crossed to the back door and found three young ladies squirming on the stump, hands clapped over their mouths.
“Phoebe,” I said, attempting to maintain a stern scowl, “what is the matter?”
She shook her head, smothering her laughter.
“And you, Delilah, did someone give you a dose of giggle medicine?”
“No, Susanna.” She slid from the stump and thumped up the stairs to my side. I sat on the top stair and pulled her onto my lap.
“Very well, young ladies. Tell me why you laugh.”
The two older girls exchanged glances, then giggled anew. Phoebe hopped to her feet. “You scolded the bread dough.”
Dorcas stood, too. “You called them little fools.”
My lips slid into a smile. “So I did. Do you think the loaves will obey me?”
Three heads wagged in unison.
“Nor do I. Now, I think the time has come for little girls to complete their chores.” I tugged Delilah’s braid. “You must return to your sampler.”
“I don’t like to sew.” Her lower lip rolled.
“It is an important lesson for a little girl to learn.” I rose, carried her down the stairs, and set her firmly on the ground. “You must go now. Dorcas will oversee.”
Dorcas and Delilah clasped hands and broke into a run.
With the little girls gone, I turned to Phoebe. “Did you have a lesson with Mrs. Pratt today?”
“I did. She says I learn quickly. Deborah was much displeased by the praise.”
I couldn’t stop a smile. My sister’s natural talent was gratifying. “If you’re done, it’s time to go home.”
“First, let me tell you the news.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Bad news?”
“Oh, no,” she beamed, “it’s good.”
I gestured for her to follow me into the kitchen. “Come. We shall sit.”
Crossing to the bench, I picked up a bowl of butter beans that needed to be shelled. Phoebe perched beside me, kicking her legs.
“So, tell me your tale. I have to check the dough soon.”
She hopped off the bench and twirled, her arms outstretched. “There will be a wedding.”
“For whom?”
“Mama.”
This should not be news. We had known for several days that she had accepted Mr. Shaw’s offer. Unless…
The news was the date. I sucked in a deep breath and said with more calm than I felt, “When is the wedding?”
She sighed with anticipation. “It’s in three weeks. The Sunday after Independence Day. She says it will be small and quiet, but there will be a feast and cake.”
I crushed the beans and pods under clenched fists. We needed more time. It was too soon, for propriety and for me. Why could they not wait a respectable six months from his first wife’s passing?
I bowed my head and avoided Phoebe’s gaze. “Have they given a reason for that date?”
“Mr. Shaw’s sister must leave the day after the wedding to return to her home in Virginia. And Mr. Shaw is most anxious to have a Baptist preacher perform the service. The Baptists have their turn in the meetinghouse on July tenth.”
July tenth. A disgracefully short period of mourning for the late Mrs. Shaw. I had hoped to have many more weeks before Mr. Shaw had control of my sister. But time had run out. Although I didn’t like making decisions this quickly, they were giving me no choice.
“What does Mr. Shaw say about your spinning lessons?”
“If I don’t learn well, he will find me an apprenticeship in some other trade.” My sister’s brow crinkled with concern.
After seeing the indenture Mark had found, I had known this was the outcome. But somewhere, deep in my heart, I had hoped the document was wrong. Mr. Shaw had always struck me as the meek, dull sort—not interesting enough to earn the animosity I felt toward him now.
“Did Mama hear him say that?”
“Yes, but she believes that I shall do well with spinning and he will let me stay home. What do you think?”
“He will bind you out.” My mother was daft—willing to take on the care of another woman’s children at the risk of losing her own. “I shall look for the perfect place for you. Would you like my help?”
“Oh, thank you, Susie.” She snuggled against me. “I shall not worry if you are involved. Shall we be together?”
“I hope so.”
“Shall we stay in Worthville?”
“We shall not.” I spat out the response as if it tasted foul.
My sister jumped at my vehemence. “Do you not like it here?”
“I should as soon be a tavern wench as work in this house.”
“A tavern wench?” she repeated, her mouth a perfect circle of horror. “Surely not.”
“Indeed, I would leave tomorrow if it were possible.” I sat on the bench and attacked the butter beans with vigor. They could not, fortunately, fight back. “It might be the very job I seek when I move to Raleigh.”
Her eyes grew large and round. “Mr. Shaw won’t approve.”
For the first time since I had learned of their engagement, I tried to imagine my mother with her betrothed, but his image kept merging with my first stepfather. Both were short of body and long of face, with eternally disapproving expressions. Perhaps my mother had a fondness for sullen men.
“I am glad to remind you Mr. Shaw has no authority over me.”
“Mama will try to persuade you otherwise.”
“She won’t succeed.” My jaw flexed at the thread of anger which had never completely faded. Mama had stood by as her second husband bound me out according to his own whims. Even now, she would allow her last natural child to live the same terrible fate as I, turning Phoebe’s future over to a man who had clearly shown himself to be undeserving of respect. My mother would receive no further consideration from me.
“What are we to do?” Phoebe said with a catch in her throat.
I brushed empty pods from my apron with brisk hands. “I shall take care of you.” I held up a thoughtful finger.
“How are your stitches? Have you any pillowcases or napkins completed? There are plenty of jobs for a girl who is clever with a needle.”
“I am quite skilled with insects. I have nearly finished a handkerchief with bees. Would you like to see?”
“Of course. I shall come to visit soon enough. Now, shoo. It’s time for me to check the bread and prepare dinner.”
She stumbled through the door and skipped from view, the tune she hummed floating in the air.
The rest of the day dragged. I had to talk to Mark. He must come.
Evening finally arrived. With the chores done, and Jedidiah at his lessons, I hurried to the cave without fear of detection. When Mark appeared at the top of his hill, I gestured for him to hurry.
“What’s up?” he said, leaping through the narrow ribbon of the falls. “Is everything okay?’
I shook my head. “We must move my sister by Independence Day.”