Chapter Four

The bright sunlight had begun to fade before Douglas returned to the little family gathered on the wharf. Several others of the passengers had already made their way up into town; the Freemans had merely pulled their boxes to the side and seated the women on them while the men stood by.

When Douglas approached, he heard the child crying in a thin wail. They would all be tired and hungry, no doubt feeling like they’d washed up on a strange shore.

All the time he consulted with the men about repairs he’d bounced the problem of where to house the Freemans around in his mind. Lobster Cove had no hotel proper, just a few folks who let rooms from time to time. He figured Mrs. Taylor made the best bet. A widow, she had more space than most.

“Sorry that took so long,” he greeted Mr. Freeman. “Didn’t like to keep you folks waiting.”

Freeman returned, “Don’t suppose it can be helped, sir. Any idea how long before that ship can sail?”

“It will be several days, at best.”

The family exchanged dismayed glances.

“But if you’ll come with me, I’ll help find you a place to stay.”

Daniel Freeman considered his family with wise eyes. “Baby’s ailing. The sea journey didn’t go easy with any of us. Michael, you and Eunice stay here. Mr. Grier, Josie and I will come along of you.”

Douglas looked at Josie and his heart rose like a gull. Josie Freeman. The name suited her and seemed to slip into an empty place in his mind that had waited for it all too long.

Funny how clearly he remembered her from that night even though he’d had only a glimpse of her, how he’d managed in those few moments to measure her height—just up to his ear—and her slender, willowy form, the delicacy of the bones at her wrist, shoulder, and jaw, and those incredible eyes, fringed with long lashes, that dominated her face.

To Daniel he said, “All right, then. We’ll try Mrs. Taylor first off. Best leave your luggage for now—we can collect it soon as we secure the place.”

Freeman and his daughter followed him from the wharf. They could still hear the child wailing, behind.

Douglas asked as they went, “Why are you folks headed for Nova Scotia? Captain back there said it’s where you’re bound.”

Daniel gave him a tight smile. “Well, sir, things got a mite warm for us back in Philadelphia. Some friends there thought it might be time for us to move on. And there’s a community of other folks like us already there, at a place called Weaver Settlement, and thriving—freed slaves.”

Douglas glanced at Josie again. “Well, whatever’s brought you, it’s a right marvel, us crossing paths this way once more.”

Daniel answered, “Maybe so. We surely do appreciate your help, sir, more than I can say.”

Mrs. Taylor’s house stood on Oak, a weathered saltbox with a neat front garden. To Douglas’s surprise, Mrs. Taylor—a diminutive woman wearing a snow-white apron—greeted them at her door, arms crossed over her thin chest. She raked the Freemans with hard eyes before she said, “You needn’t bother to ask, Douglas Grier. All my rooms are taken.”

Douglas paused in dismay. To be sure, his delay on the wharf must have allowed the other passengers to get ahead of them.

“I’ll try Mrs. Blake, shall I?” he asked.

Mrs. Taylor sniffed, went inside, and shut her door.

The hair on the back of Douglas’s neck stood up. No stranger to unjust treatment, he. He’d encountered it all his life as a half-breed and son of the town trollop. But now his protective instincts rose, and he burned with embarrassment on the Freemans’ behalf. Trying not to reveal the extent of his annoyance, he led them on.

At the next place, they were also told the rooms were all taken, if with less hostility. Douglas didn’t know whether to believe Mrs. Blake or not. At the Remingtons, no one consented to answer his knock at the door; he had quickly run out of options.

He paused on Pine with his two charges and took a look around. A barrier of space seemed to enclose the three of them just as if they carried a sickness that kept others away. Even as he stood looking he saw a couple cross the road to detour around them.

He looked at Josie and ached on her behalf, thought about the tired couple and wailing child back on the wharf.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I can’t understand it, but all the rooms seem to be…taken.”

“Not your fault, sir,” Daniel said with quiet dignity. “Just the way it is. Maybe the captain will let us bunk aboard the ship.”

Douglas caught a flash of dismay in Josie’s eyes, quickly suppressed. He made a swift decision. “No need for that. I know a place you can stay.”

“Eh?”

“Come along. We’ll get Miss Freeman, here, settled and then go back for the rest of your family.”

What would Rab say when Douglas turned up with five houseguests? He might not know; the forge might well be shut by now. And Rab had given Douglas the snug quarters in back of the shop years ago, after Douglas’s mother moved away and abandoned him. The Sinclairs had run out of room by then and were already living in the new place just outside town.

He led Freeman and Josie round back, as the shop did indeed stand quiet, and took them inside.

“Sorry for the mess.” No housekeeper, he; the cramped interior screamed bachelor quarters. Dirty dishes lay in the basin beside the cold hearth, and his clothes were scattered across the bed. “And sorry the place is so small. You’ll all have to fit yourselves into this one room, I’m afraid. But it’s tight and snug.”

Josie glanced around. “Who lives here?”

Douglas did not answer. “There’s a pump just outside the door. And the wee housie’s at the back of the yard.” Meeting Freeman’s inquiring look he explained, “That’s what my boss, Mr. Sinclair, calls it, being that he’s from Scotland.”

Daniel shook his head. “These your quarters, sir?”

“Doesn’t matter whose place it is. It’s available, and your family needs a place to stay. You say the baby’s ill? Nothing serious, I hope.”

Josie answered, “Hetty doesn’t like the water.” She smiled and pressed her hands to her stomach. “Just like me. You’re a kind man, Mr. Grier.”

“That’s the truth, and we’ll accept since it’s only for a day or two,” Daniel said, stiff with pride. “But we’ll pay the owner some rent.”

“He’ll be insulted if you try. All these months wondering what happened to you folks—I’m just grateful you’re here. Like I said, it’s a right miracle.”

“A right miracle,” Josie repeated.

****

Daniel accompanied Douglas Grier back to the harbor to fetch the rest of the family and their belongings.

Josie, her legs finally failing her, sank onto a stool. Her head spun slowly, and she wished she could reach out, grasp hold of her world, and drag it to a halt. It had happened a lot lately, this feeling of disorientation and the desperate need to bring some normalcy to her existence.

Ever since last night’s storm, since she’d been told they had to put ashore and she began to feel that powerful pull inside, nothing had been close to ordinary.

She closed her eyes and unfurled her inner sense, which now proved so insistent. No question but the pull came from that man, Douglas Grier.

Lord, how handsome he was. But that had little to do with the situation. He was kind, as well. She had no doubt he’d given them his own place to sleep. His very spirit lingered here, the faint scent of him mingled with those of ash and hot metal from what must be the forge, beyond.

She opened her eyes, got to her feet, and tiptoed to the curtain that screened the doorway opposite. Peeking through, she saw the place lay dim and quiet, the fire well-banked, warmth hovering like a benevolent cloud.

Josie drew a breath. She’d stepped into his world. Who said prayers weren’t answered?

Even though she’d begun to doubt it. True, fate had blessed her in many ways: she’d been born to a house slave and raised in the big plantation house, companion to Massa Collingwood’s own daughter Alice. Accordingly, she’d learned some skills that would serve her well in years to come. And yes, the fire had come just when Massa Collingwood cast Eunice off for being too heavy with child and turned his eyes in Josie’s direction.

She’d prayed about that, right enough. But not nearly so hard as she’d prayed against all odds to see the young blacksmith with the strong hands and respectful eyes again.

Against all odds.

Yet here she stood. She turned her back on the drowsing forge and, without actual intent, began to tidy the room. She folded Douglas Grier’s clothes and laid them on the foot of the bed, giving in to impulse and pressing one garment—a soft shirt—to her nose first. Eyes closed once more, she inhaled his scent, and her heart stirred powerfully within her. She continued around the room, setting things to rights and gathering up dirty dishes.

He obviously lived alone. She shouldn’t glory in that but found she did. She put all the dishes in the wash basin and went out back to fetch water.

Dark had almost come. Moths and other night insects flitted around the yard, and the first stars poked out overhead. Josie tipped her face to the sky and whispered, “Well, Rainie, what do you think? Am I meant to be here?” One of the stars winked, and Josie answered, “I think so too.”

****

By the time Daniel and Douglas Grier came back with the others, Josie had a fire burning and the dishes clean. Douglas ushered in Michael, Eunice, and little Hetty now fast asleep in Michael’s arms, and carried in the boxes and bags, shooting a startled look around the place as he did.

The space was indeed tight for five, but comfortable. Josie, grateful the floor didn’t rock beneath her feet, helped stow most of their belongings along one wall while Eunice settled Hetty on the bed.

Douglas Grier then moved to the shelves beside the hearth. “Food enough here for you to fix a meal, folks. Use whatever you need and make yourselves comfortable as you can. I’ll grab a few things, some clothes and a blanket, and get out of your way. Just so you know, the forge gets going pretty early. If you hear somebody moving around in the shop out there, it will be either me or my boss, Rab Sinclair. Hope we won’t disturb you too much.”

“Never mind that.” Michael stepped up and once more offered Douglas his hand. “This place is a God’s send, Mr. Grier. We’re grateful.”

Douglas nodded, looking embarrassed, before going to gather what he would need for the night. Josie wondered where he would go. Out into the soft darkness of this strange, half-wild place, away from her?

But she knew now he couldn’t truly leave her; they were connected somehow deep inside. And she had only to close her eyes again to feel the pull of that connection, like a call made and answered.

Thank you, she thought at him as he moved to the door, and he looked right at her, gave a flash of that smile that had the power to curl her toes.

“See you tomorrow,” he told her.

Tomorrow. She couldn’t recall when she’d looked forward to the next day of her life quite so much.