To Follow Her Heart Read online

  “I will, my friend. I do not give up.”

  Her courage and dignity even when faced with this horrific disease did not surprise Patience. This was a woman who faced all trials in that manner. She was indeed royalty—not only among her people but to everyone who was graced by her presence.

  20

  October 6, 1664

  The ladies spent the next few days in Heather Flower’s room, chatting, praying, and singing hymns. Patience took turns with Mary, preparing broth, tea, and compresses for Heather Flower. When downstairs, they comforted Dirk.

  Barnabas and Jeremy made visits to Heather Flower’s bedside and spent time with Dirk to pray for her recovery. Doctor Smith came daily and told Patience that Dirk was definitely worn out, but he didn’t appear to be ill. At his orders, Reverend Youngs and Reverend Hobart stayed away but held regular prayer sessions for Heather Flower at the meetinghouse.

  Patience learned from Barnabas that Lizzie was beside herself. Never had she felt so useless. She couldn’t work at the hat shop, but he said that was not what troubled her. She wanted to be there, helping her friend. And so she busied herself with supplying dried herbs and elixirs to Patience and Mary to administer to Heather Flower. In Mary’s absence, she took care of the girls, with the help of Anna and Abbey, and cooked meals for them and the boys.

  When the red splotches turned to pus-filled blisters, Heather Flower took a bad turn and lapsed into a coma. Her fever raged. Prayer groups met every hour at the meetinghouse, and Barnabas and Jeremy stayed by Dirk’s side.

  Patience directed Dirk to keep her supplied with the ice-cold well water, and she and Mary worked diligently to bring the fever down, but it would not abate.

  She took Mary beyond the bedroom door and spoke in a low whisper. “Mary, I think it is time to let her people know how ill she is. And I think it is time to send word to Joseph and Jane. I don’t think we should wait any longer.”

  Mary put her hands on Patience’s arms and held tight as her eyes pooled. “I don’t want to lose her.”

  Patience couldn’t hold back her tears either, and they collapsed in each other’s arms and cried. “I don’t want to lose her either, Mary, but I’m afraid to wait to get everyone home. What about Benjamin and Johnny? Dirk and Jeremy were going to ride out and help them finish whatever it is that they are doing. Dirk can’t leave. I don’t want Jeremy to either.”

  Mary patted Patience’s shoulder. “Dirk won’t, but I believe Jeremy will go. I think he and Barnabas have been discussing that. He probably should go, Patience, and I’m the last one who would say that. But he can get word from there to Jay, and he can ride back with Ben and Johnny. I don’t think we should say anything to Dirk yet.”

  Mary left to talk to Barnabas and Jeremy. Patience entered the bedroom again and sent Mosh down to stay with Dirk while she sat to wash pus that oozed from the lesions on her friend’s body. She tried to spoon elixir-infused tea into Heather Flower’s mouth, but it trickled to the pillow, and her efforts were for naught.

  She took her friend’s hand and leaned forward until her forehead rested on top and said prayers for her as her tears fell. A rattle from Heather Flower’s throat brought Patience upright again, and she took her face in her hands. “Don’t leave us” was all she could whisper. “Please don’t leave us.”

  She ran to the staircase landing. “Dirk! Come quickly!” She dashed back to Heather Flower’s side. Dirk was right behind her.

  He took Heather Flower in his arms. “No! No! You can’t!” He held her close and wept.

  Heather Flower stirred and opened her eyes. They were dark but luminous, and Patience wondered if it was the light of Heaven she saw in her friend’s eyes.

  “My husband. I love you.” Those were her last words.

  Dirk drew her to him and buried his face in her hair, sobs wracking his shoulders.

  Patience left him to private moments as her own sadness gripped her heart. She crept down the stairs to Mosh. He was hovering in a corner, as if he knew his beloved mistress was gone. Patience sank to the floor and hugged him, rocking back and forth, shedding her own tears.

  She knew Heather Flower was in Heaven this day, and the angels rejoiced. She knew she joined her aunt Winnie, and that should be a comfort. The loss of her own parents had taught her that God could heal the hurt. But for now, she only wanted to cry and mourn her dear friend—her sister, as they’d declared so long ago with Mary. Founding sisters of Southold.

  Patience was unhappy Jeremy left for New Amsterdam, but she understood his obligation to bring the horse troop home, and he was charged with notifying Joseph, Benjamin, and Johnny of Heather Flower’s death, as well.

  The funeral was delayed until friends and family could gather, and now the long procession of mourners wound from the meetinghouse, out past the village green, to the hill above the Corchaug village. It overlooked the bend in the river where Heather Flower loved to sit.

  On their shoulders, six young braves carried a litter that bore her body. Keme’s brother was one of them, and his mother walked directly behind with Patience, Mary, Abbey, and Lizzie. Mosh remained close to Patience’s side.

  Jeremy walked with Barnabas, Joseph, and Benjamin, followed by the younger Horton boys. Patience watched him and was glad he was home again. This time for good. He’d gotten back the night before, and they’d not had a chance to talk yet. But she knew he was as devastated as she over their friend’s death, and it would take a while for the pain to ease and life to return to normal.

  She looked beyond him to the form of Heather Flower, who lay on the bier with hands folded. She was as beautiful in death as she was alive. Mary and Patience had first bathed her in rosewater and then dressed her in her softest deerskin, bejeweled by Heather Flower herself with rich purple beads, peacock and eagle quills, and red ink swirls.

  They braided her hair, entwined with silk ribbons, and draped it over her shoulder. Her eyes were closed, but they would never forget the fire and beauty that were so unique to those dark opals. Her lips were frozen in a small pout, and Patience smiled through tears at the thought that, though she’d gone on to grander things, she most likely would have stayed a bit longer if given the chance.

  Lizzie nestled two vials of beads—one deep purple, the other creamy white—into Heather Flower’s arms, and Mary added a bayberry candle. In the tradition of her people, the braves lowered her into the waiting grave in a sitting position, facing the east, for her final repose. As Keme’s mother placed wampum, a treasured blanket, and a tomahawk in her lap, Patience whispered, “God knows best for us, sweet sister. Go in peace.”

  Reverend Youngs and Reverend Hobart each said a prayer as her grave was covered with earth, and afterward Barnabas gave a eulogy. Patience noticed that Dirk was silent throughout, his hat clutched in his hands, a void in his eyes she was certain came straight from his heart. Heather Flower’s burial blended all of the cultures that came together on this island—she had been a friend and leader to so many, and was loved by all.

  The men accompanied Dirk to Winnie’s old hut, while Patience, Mary, Abbey, and Lizzie went with the native women to the little clearing by the river. Their grief gave way to wails and chants. Only after the last tear did they manage smiles and talk of the legendary life that was Heather Flower’s.

  When they left the riverbank, they walked to the longhouse. The birch-bark structure was caving in, but Patience and Mary managed to clean off space to put out the food baskets and cold meats while Lizzie went to Winnie’s hut to call the men for supper.

  Patience brushed away the fallen leaves and pieces of roof that had collapsed over the years. Her eyes stung, and she wiped them as tears gathered afresh. So many of her memories here at the fort were sad ones. But she would cling to the good memories. She bent down and wrapped her arms around Mosh. She would not forget.

  21

  October 11, 1664

  Jeremy rode up the lane to the big yellow house at the end of the green. It looked hauntingly
empty now. Dirk left immediately after the funeral for Flushing, and he left a heartsick Mosh behind. The dog cowered in the room where Heather Flower had died, though Patience urged him to come out. Dirk most likely would never come back. He’d told Jeremy that Southold would forever hold sad memories for him.

  He turned Ink toward the boardinghouse on the opposite corner. He would get a bath and then go gather Patience. Barnabas had relayed an invitation from Mary to come for supper. No doubt Patience knew about it already. He loved the closeness of family and community here, something his years on the ship never afforded. Unless he counted a couple of the youngsters who sailed with him and called him Papa.

  He entered his small room, much like the master cabin on The Swallow, except that it had a tub in the middle of the floor. A caldron of hot water sat over the fire, which burned low in the corner hearth. He dipped a bucket in the water and began to transfer it to the bath. Soon he was sitting in the steamy tub, planning the new house with a room just for this purpose.

  He almost went to sleep in the water but caught himself and climbed out to dry and dress. He pulled on his breeches and boots, then a white linen shirt, and headed out the door to Patience’s house.

  She was not at all ready. She sat in a heap on her kitchen floor, Mosh happily trotting this way and that over her. Her laughter cascaded over his gleeful woofs, and Jeremy had to pause at the door and enjoy the moment before interrupting. When she noticed him, she shyly held up a bone she’d hidden beneath her to explain what was going on.

  “No explanation needed, my love. Except did you not know we are expected somewhere for supper?” A grin wreathed his face.

  “Oh! I did forget, and Mary told me. Just one moment.” She tossed the bone to Jeremy. “Here, play fetch in the yard with Mosh and I shall be right out.”

  He led the dog out with the bone, then threw it with all his might. It went sailing into Ester Bayley’s yard and smacked the side of her house, but that didn’t deter Mosh and he retrieved it in a flash. “Good boy,” he said as he eyed the windows of the boardinghouse. His transgression was, thankfully, unnoticed.

  Patience danced out the door. “You look terribly guilty about something, but I shan’t ask. I’m too eager to go to Mary’s. We have a surprise to show you.” She called for Mosh to follow, and they set out for the Hortons’.

  “Very well. I’m looking forward to the evening, too. It is time the town relaxes and celebrates, don’t you think? We’ve had our share of sadness and trouble.”

  They walked down the lane, arm in arm. Jeremy patted her hand. “Did I ever tell you about the time I was sailing for England and wound up on the coast of France?”

  Patience glanced at him, her blue eyes wide. “No, you haven’t. What happened?”

  “There was a terrible storm, and it threw me off course, and I found myself in French waters. A French warship detained me and searched The Swallow. They released me, of course. It was all a misunderstanding.”

  “Why, the ocean is not a safe place at all. Weather, pirates, warships. So very harsh. I’m so thankful you are here in Southold, Jeremy.”

  He chuckled as they walked up the flagstone path.

  Barnabas came to greet them when they arrived, and Mary joined them in the parlor. Patience immediately took her aside to whisper in her ear.

  Barnabas chortled. “They have plans for you, I can tell.”

  “Patience says they have a surprise.” Jeremy watched the two ladies.

  “We do have a surprise for you, Jeremy, and we shall go get it.” Mary led Patience out of the room.

  The two brothers did not wait long. With Mary humming a tune—not her forte—Patience entered in a gorgeous pink-and-cream gown. Jeremy stared at her, his mouth open but wordless.

  “Do you like it?” Patience twirled for him.

  He rose from his chair and took her hands. “Do I like it? Patience, you look like an angel. How is it that I am so blessed?”

  Mary ran her fingers over the lace of the sleeve. “Lizzie stayed up a whole night just so it would be done when you got back from New Amsterdam.”

  Barnabas stood, too. “You are beautiful, and what a beautiful gown.”

  Tears popped up on her lashes, and she blinked. “Thank you, both. ’Tis the thought of a wedding that makes me seem beautiful. I am so happy.”

  Mary tsked. “Nay, you are always beautiful. And you never change. How do you do that? Still the same blue-eyed beauty that turns all the men’s heads. Jeremy, you had better wed her soon, before someone else does.” She winked at Patience.

  Barnabas said, “Well, you know, as magistrate I could perform the ceremony now. She is in her dress, Jeremy. What say you?”

  His surprise was drowned out by the ladies’ laughter. “Oh no you don’t, Barney.” Mary gasped between laughs. “Patience will have her day as the bride—the whole day, with all the festivities and guests. She has waited too long to let you get away with that.”

  Patience joined in. “Yes, I will have my little ladies-in-waiting and be queen for the day. I’ve already promised your daughters.”

  Jeremy put his arm around her. “Rightly so. I want it to be perfect for you. Once I return from Winter Harbor and I begin work on our house, you may begin with your plans.”

  Mary looked from Patience to Jeremy. “But we have made the plans. Why wait until after all of that?”

  Jeremy watched Patience’s face go from light to cloudy. “That is only to say I would like to have a place for us when we wed. A place of our own. But, my love, if you and Mary want to plan, do that with my full approval. Our wedding day will come quickly, and we will share a beautiful life together.”

  Her smile sent him reeling again, and he could not imagine being without her. “On the morrow, I go to Winter Harbor. Once it is settled that I will be the next master shipwright, I will bring you out to see where we will begin to build our new home.”

  She threw her arms around him, and he held her close. He forgot his brother and Mary and saw only his bride. Soon they would be married. And from that day forward, his duty would be to her, and he would love her forever.

  22

  October 15, 1664

  Patience stood at her trunk and took her gowns out one by one. She spread them on her bed and picked the green linen dress. With the dress held up in front of her, she spread the skirt with her free hand. She looked back over the other dresses. This one would do. She liked the conservative cut of the collar, and it was one of her more comfortable frocks. She slipped it on over her chemise and pulled at the laces.

  Mosh sat watching her, his head cocked and his tail thumping on the floorboards, for he knew a walk was in the making. “Yes, dear boy. We shall go for a walk. I’ve a list of items I need from the mercantile for my class. The girls start school again in a few days. You shall love playing with them, Mosh, and they shall love playing with you.”

  She skipped down the stairs with Mosh almost on top of her. She set out her breakfast and gave Mosh his morning bowl of meat chunks—rabbit this morning, leftover from her rabbit stew. She ate some porridge and grabbed her list as they set out for the shop.

  After searching the shelves, she finally collected everything and piled her supplies on the counter in front of the proprietor.

  “Did you find everything, Miss Terry?”

  “Oh yes, I believe I found everything and more, Mr. Danbye.”

  “It is hard to believe that harvest is over and school is beginning. Another year. Where do they go?”

  “I don’t know, Mr. Danbye. They do seem to go quickly.” Right now it could not go too quickly. The urge to tell him of the wedding was strong, but she bit her bottom lip and signed the account for her purchases. “Thank you, Mr. Danbye.”

  “Have a good day, Miss Terry.”

  She bolted from the store and ran straight into Reverend Joshua Hobart. He caught her from falling, but Mosh jumped between them and her bag went flying. Quills and parchment flew everywhere. “Oh my, Reverend.
Forgive my clumsiness. Mosh, behave.”

  “It is my apology, dear Miss Terry. I fear I was in a rush to enter the shop and did not see you coming out. Let me retrieve your purchases.” He gathered the quills, and she held the bag as he placed them inside. He gave Mosh a pat. “Did you tell me you are the schoolmistress for the young girls?”

  “Yes, I have the Dame School here.”

  “Why, you are too young to be occupied with that, are you not?” He bent to gather the parchment papers that threatened to blow away.

  “Why, no. I love the girls.”

  He straightened. “May I carry your package for you?”

  “Thank you so much, you are very kind. But no, I am not far from here.” The wind whipped at her cap and skirt. “But thank you again. Good day, Reverend.”

  He bowed. “Good day, Miss Terry.”

  She hurried home, Mosh at her heels. She had not heard that Reverend Hobart had returned to Southold. Why would he have come back? They had no need of another minister. He knew Jeremy, but as far as she could tell, he had only acquaintances here, no actual friends. But she could be mistaken. She would ask Jeremy when he returned from Winter Harbor.

  She entered through the kitchen, but heard Lizzie in the hat shop talking to someone. She put her bag on the table and went to see who was there. Lizzie was bent over the drill table, working on the wampum beads. “Hello, Patience—I was just showing Misha how the drill works for the beads. She tells me she would love to work here, helping me with the orders, making beads.”

  “Wonderful.” She turned to Misha. “I’m so glad you’ll be here. We’ve been somewhat out of sorts, and with Dame School starting back up and the wedding to plan, Lizzie and I didn’t know what we might do.”

  Misha’s smile reminded her of Winnie. “I’m glad you need me. Mary’s girls are growing up, and I need something to do. It is such an honor to work with Heather Flower’s beads.”