To Follow Her Heart Page 14

  They spent the day together, laughing and recalling the early days of the hat shop. Benjamin had built the counters and shelves. Heather Flower was the one who’d said the shop must be named for Lizzie, and Benjamin had made a sign, LIZZIE’S HAT SHOP.

  The quills and paper sat on the table where she’d left them. She would have tomorrow to set up her classroom—today it was more important to spend time with friends who were really more family than anything else.

  Mosh was curled by the fire, occasionally sighing in his sleep. Lizzie told Misha the story of how Mary and Barnabas met. “That reminds me, Lizzie. I ran into Reverend Hobart today.”

  “Really? What is he doing in Southold again?”

  “I don’t know—I did not ask. I did think it odd, too, though.”

  Misha put down the drill. “He is hoping to find a church in need of a minister on Long Island. He likes Southold very much.”

  “Well, he need not tarry here. We have a minister, and we love him. He will be with us a long, long time.” Lizzie shook her head and set her curls bouncing.

  Patience tucked a stray lock behind her ear. “He is a very nice man, and his father is quite famous in Boston. I hope he finds a church close by. It would be good to have him near, don’t you think, Lizzie?”

  “Perhaps. I don’t know. Yes, as long as he knows Southold is not up for the taking.” She giggled at herself. “And Jeremy, what do you think of his looking for work at Winter Harbor? Why not at Hallock’s Landing?”

  “He’s a bit out of sorts without his ship, I think. And if he is to be a shipwright, then Winter Harbor is the right place to work. I wish it were a little closer, but ’tis not so far that I cannot come here to work. I won’t give up Dame School. At least not at first.”

  “And what of this house? Why does Jeremy not move in here?”

  “He would like one of our own. I think that ’tis rather nice. I’m thinking, Lizzie, you can have the whole of the downstairs. Expand your hat shop. Your business has flourished. Even the ladies of Easthampton come here for your hats.”

  “Lovely idea. But what of Dame School? You said you would keep on with that.”

  “I shall, but upstairs. The upper rooms will be for the school. And I can still bring the young ladies down for their lessons with you.”

  “Excellent!”

  Lizzie was pleased with her plans, and she sighed. The light was getting short as the sun lowered, and supper had bubbled in the pot long enough. “Shall we go to the kitchen for a bite to eat?” Patience raised her brows as she looked from one friend to the other.

  Misha’s eyes lit up. “Yes, I’m starved.”

  They left the shop and Mosh followed, not to be left out when food might be involved. Patience cut thick slices of bread and tossed the crustiest parts to him while Lizzie ladled the pottage. They sat at the table bathed in a golden haze, and Misha lit a beeswax candle before they joined hands in prayer.

  They ate their simple meal, chatting about the plans for the hat shop. Patience patted her mouth with a napkin as she turned to Lizzie. “Are you glad you did not give up in the beginning?”

  “Oh yes. It was hard at first, was it not? Grissell kept me in business, if I remember correctly. And Mary and Mrs. Wells. But it took a bit of time for our little town to catch up with my big ideas.”

  Patience leaned back in her chair. “You succeeded because you persevered. And I believe that is what sets the people of New England apart from the homeland.”

  Misha rested her spoon on the side of her bowl. “How is that?”

  Lizzie set down her spoon, too. “Those of us who came did not see an ocean that could not be crossed. We saw an ocean that challenged us to cross it with the promise that we would become who we were meant to be should we make it to the other side. And Patience, ’tis true for you, as well. You have never given up waiting for Jeremy.”

  “But there were times when I wanted to. And that is the difference between the matters of the mind and matters of the heart. I love him. I couldn’t simply decide to give up on him.” Her eyes stung, but she smiled bravely.

  Jeremy reined in Ink and studied the bay below. The deep water at Winter Harbor lent well to the whaling activities that predominated the port. Merchant ships arrived regularly from France, Italy, and England, and once their cargo was dispensed, the wares bound for the Caribbean were brought aboard and the ship readied to sail again.

  The surrounding land, rich and productive, was owned by Captain Johnny Youngs. Jeremy hoped to purchase a lot on top of the hill that overlooked green marshland. When his future was secured, he’d bring Patience out to look at both the hill property and the lots Mapes had mapped out by Thomas Benedict Creek. They would choose the lot together and begin their plans for building. He’d ridden out to both locations, and they each had excellent appeal.

  He continued his ride to the dock. Captain Dunning’s years of sailing had ended when he lost a leg, but his love of ships led him to a livelihood in shipbuilding. Jeremy hoped to follow in his path. He’d been involved with every aspect of The Swallow when she was built, but that had been years ago. Still, he’d maintained her, and his confidence in his ability to learn the trade buoyed his determination.

  Captain Dunning labored over a curved length of oak but looked up as Jeremy approached. A wide grin spread across his face as he recognized his old friend. “Why, Captain Jeremy Horton. So good to see ye.” He straightened and held out his hand.

  Jeremy shook it as he clapped him on the back. “So good to see you, Harry. You look as busy as ever.”

  “Aye, but never too busy to swap stories. And as I recall, ye are a champion of sea stories, eh, Jeremy?”

  He chuckled his approval. “True, true. What is that you work on?”

  “It’s part of the keel I’m repairing for that whaling ship over yonder.” He nodded across the bay at the big whaler up on dry dock.

  Jeremy studied the dock and spotted a weathered trunk perched at the end. “What say you we go sit a spell and catch up on each other?” He nodded toward the chest.

  “’Tis what the trunk sits there for. The stories it could tell.” He winked, and Jeremy followed him out.

  After they settled on the trunk, Jeremy leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. A fresh sea breeze ruffled his hair, and he ran a hand through it. “I guess you know I’m here to inquire about working here at the dock. I’d like to be a shipwright, like you. With you.” He cocked his head to watch the man’s reaction.

  “Ah, I’ve been expecting ye. You might say I’ve been praying for ye to come.” He had round red cheeks that nearly closed his bright blue eyes when he smiled. His gray hair had specks of the black it used to be, and grew long into his thick beard. He appeared strong despite a wooden leg—and far from ready to give up his love of ships.

  “It’s been a few years, but as I recall, we talked of a day when you might need someone to learn the trade, to keep the yard going when you’re ready to quit. But it looks to me like the day has not arrived.” He turned his shirt collar up around his neck as he listened to the icy water gently lap at the dock. As he waited for his friend’s reply, he spotted the fin of a coastal dolphin, rare for this time of year. White triangles of light glinted from the surface as the sun played with the ripples in the bay. He could like it here very much.

  “Don’t be quick to your conclusions, old friend. I have pains that don’t go away come nightfall, and I eye this chest every day and think of sitting on it without a care. The day is not far off.” He shook his head.

  “I could begin on the morrow—that is, if you agree.”

  The old sea captain’s eyes watered. “That is what I prayed to hear. I can give ye a bunk, and Mrs. Sweeney cooks fish like ye’ve never tasted.”

  Jeremy stood, his hand outstretched. “Deal, if I may buy you a plate of that fish now. I believe I smelled it before I ever entered town.”

  Harry stood and shook his hand. “Ye won’t regret your decision. And I won’t eithe
r.”

  They trudged to Mrs. Sweeney’s House of Fish, where many of the harbor’s workers already sat out in front on rocks or any other surface they could find, their laps filled with greasy fish wrapped in parchment. It would be different for Patience, living here, but they would be together. He would build her a fine house and a cart she could use to go into Southold. She could teach and visit with Lizzie and Mary each day and come home to his arms each night.

  They found an empty table inside and sat down. Mrs. Sweeney cleared away the litter as she offered her fish of the day. When the steaming platter arrived, Jeremy let his cool as they discussed the details of his apprenticeship. It would be accelerated, to be sure, and in the end, the dry dock could be his.

  He tore a chunk from the tender fillet and savored it while Harry talked of what he would do with his free time. “Your timing is good, lad. I’ve inherited me a bit of money. I’m going to build a ship. A ship with three square masts.” He winked at Jeremy.

  He put his fork down. “That’s an ambitious plan, Harry. I haven’t forgotten how you helped me when The Swallow had a hole in the keel large enough to put her down forever. There was no one who could fix her. But you believed you could, and you put your heart and soul into it. She had many a seaworthy year after that. I told you then if there was ever anything I could do for you, I would in a heartbeat. And I meant it.”

  “It is ambitious. It is my last hurrah.”

  “Last hurrah? No, don’t think that, Harry. If that is what you truly want to do, think of it as a stepping stone to an easy life, sitting on the trunk and eating Mrs. Sweeney’s fish. I will help you do it.”

  Harry sat there with tears twinkling like diamonds in his eyes. “Bless you. I was praying you would say that. When I heard you didn’t drown, I prayed for this.”

  “I need to find some land to build a house for Patience, so we can get married. But I want to work with you. We’ll build your ship, Harry.”

  “Ah, welcome aboard.”

  Jeremy shook the captain’s hand, the firm grip of the old man impressive. “I will return to Southold to settle with Mrs. Bayley and pack my belongings.” He hadn’t much, since everything went down with his ship. He’d be leaving Patience’s arms once again, but this time to move forward to the day when he would hold her forever.

  23

  November 4, 1664

  Southold

  With the harvest complete and plans for a community day of thanks in the making, Patience spent the last day before Dame School commenced after the fall break working at the bake shop with Mary, Lizzie, and Abbey. Misha and Mary’s eldest daughters watched Mary and Mercy upstairs, having pretend school in preparation for classes on the morrow.

  The women baked four different breads. Patience made the thirded bread—a third wheat, a third rye, and a third corn. It was easy and quick to put together. Lizzie made her wheat bread fancy with chopped onions and garlic added to the dough before she twisted it like a rope. Abbey flattened her dough out and sprinkled it with cinnamon and brown sugar before she rolled it up. All of the loaves would sit overnight, and Mary and Barnabas would begin a day of baking on the morrow.

  Lizzie chopped more onion. “Perhaps you and Jeremy should wed on the thanksgiving day.”

  “How could I be a queen for a day if I must serve food and be thankful?”

  Mary looked sharply at her. “Patience! Of course you want to be thankful. And we would not make you serve, we would serve you.”

  Patience laughed. “I only jest. But truly I think Jeremy will say that it’s too soon. I’m anxious to hear what transpired at Winter Harbor. He says once his job is decided, he will bring me out to look at some lots we could build on.”

  “That seems so far away.” Abbey punched down her dough.

  “Well, I shall not be able to walk over like I do now, but we’ll have a cart, and I’ll come every day for Dame School. And whilst I’m in town, I can stop by for a bit of mint tea.”

  Mary wiped her hands on her apron. “Of course, dear. Jeremy shall make sure you both visit often. He promised me.”

  “Your dress is ready, we’ve planned the meal. There won’t be flowers, but we’ll have lots of greenery and red berries for Christmastide, if you wait that long.” Lizzie got a piece of paper and a quill. “I should start writing these things down.”

  “I do think it will be close to Christmas when we marry.”

  Mary’s eyes lit up. “I love a Christmas wedding. So pretty. But you don’t want to wait until after Christmas, because then it is just cold and bleak. Not a good start to a marriage.”

  The ladies all looked at Patience, and she returned their stares. “I shall be certain to tell Jeremy that.” She tried to remain serious, but she knew her eyes were dancing with glee. She loved a good reason to tell Jeremy why they should not postpone any further.

  Lizzie was the first to respond. “Well, I, for one, would like to make it known that in your beautiful pink wedding gown, you shall not look the least cold or bleak. Your very presence will warm the hearts of your subjects, Queen Patience.”

  “Oh, Lizzie, that was so very sweet of you.” Mary’s smile was as wide as Patience’s eyes.

  “That it was, Lizzie. Thank you.”

  Lizzie looked up from the list she scribbled. “So, ’tis decided? Tree boughs and red berries? Bayberry candles? What else shall we need?”

  Patience shook her head. “I think we should wait on Jeremy. He shall have news. And hopefully then we may plan.”

  Mary thanked the ladies for their help. Patience walked to her house but turned on the flagstone to watch the sun sinking beneath pink-tinted clouds. She opened her door, but instead of going inside, she let Mosh out and the two made their way back to the garden, where she could sit and watch the sunset.

  She pet Mosh behind his ears, thankful Dirk had left the wolf-dog in her care. She felt close to Heather Flower in a way she never would without Mosh. He laid his head in her lap. “Where do you think Jeremy is, my pup?” He looked up with sad eyes, and she laughed. “Oh, it is all right. You don’t have to tell me. He shall be here soon, I’m sure.”

  She remembered her bag of dough and hurried into the house. She slipped it into a pan and set it by the hearth to rise during the night. She leaned against her table, and the same sense of waiting for Jeremy engulfed her as it had for years. She’d thought he’d be back by now.

  She moved into the classroom and went over for the seventh time the supplies, the arrangement of chairs, and the schedule she’d carefully written out. It had not changed for years, but still she felt better with a fresh document detailing each day of the week.

  She sat down in her chair at the head of the class. Mosh settled at her feet, but only for a moment. His bark was friendly, and she suspected it was Jeremy at the door before she ever opened it. She threw herself into his arms. “I’m so glad to see you!”

  He rocked her back and forth before he kissed her. “I am so glad to see you, my love. I have good news.”

  “Come to the parlor and tell me all.” She pulled on his arm, and they sat close on her velvet pumpkin-colored couch.

  “I have an apprenticeship with Master Shipwright Harry Dunning. I begin on the morrow, he is so eager to have me. The harbor is beautiful and the village charming. I think you will like it there, Patience.”

  “How wonderful. And when shall you bring me to look at the lots?” Her thoughts were spinning. “At the end of the week, after Dame School?”

  He chuckled. “Yes, yes. That would be best. I will have a week done with Harry, and your classes will be off to a good start. We’ll celebrate with a ride out to Winter Harbor. Now I should go and gather my clothes. I’ll let Mrs. Bayley know she may rent my room. And then I’ll be gone for the week.”

  “You’re staying in Winter Harbor?”

  He pulled her near. “Harry has a bunk for me. We’ll be working long hours. But this is not goodbye. This is just the next step toward our marriage.”

&
nbsp; “That is so very good. I’ve waited so long for this, Jeremy. Please kiss me one last time so that I might dream of it through the week.” She tilted her chin up toward him, and their eyes met. His were so deep a green. How many times had she looked into those earnest eyes when he told her goodbye and she did not know if she would see him again? It always brought tears. But this time she could drown in those eyes and still smile. For this was not goodbye. This was only until they met again. In a week. His lips caressed hers with a tenderness that spoke to her heart. He was happy, too.

  Cold morning light poured into the window, and Patience sat up with a start. She threw her quilt aside and pulled on her robe. “Mosh, why did you not wake me? The girls will be here before we know it.” He looked at her with questions in his eyes. “Oh, ’tis all right. Let’s go down and have a bit to eat, and then I’ll get dressed. Lizzie shall be here soon, too. I could not sleep last night, so much I thought of Jeremy and our life together. I wish this week were over.”

  She hurried down the stairs and checked the shop first to see if Lizzie was there. She was not. The kitchen was cold, and she shoved a split log into the embers and poked until she had a flame. Mosh gulped down the meat and bread crusts she tossed to him, and she had a bit of cheese and bread before she let him out and ran back up the stairs to dress. She must remember to put a fire under the oven and bake the dough she’d brought home from Mary’s house. The girls would enjoy it after a morning of lessons.

  She picked a dark maroon gown and threw it over her head and pulled the skirts down over her petticoat. She brushed her hair and twisted it into a knot, held with her ivory combs. After pinching her cheeks for a little color, she took a breath and went down the steps.

  Lizzie was just coming in with stacks of felt and ribbon that had arrived from Boston on the last ship. “Good morrow to you,” she called.

  “I woke up late, and it seems I have been scampering like a mouse ever since.” Patience heaved a sigh.

  Lizzie peeked in the classroom. “Well, you made good time by the looks of things.”