To Capture Her Heart Read online

  Benjamin led Star into the barn and brushed the Great Black. He gave her some hay, patted her flank, then crept into the still, dark house. A week and a day had passed since he and Joseph had left with the horse troop. He was tired, but he went to the fireplace in the back kitchen and stirred the embers. As they sparked, he put three small logs in a triangle fashion on top and stuffed a bit of dried moss to get it going good.

  He settled in his mother’s chair and picked up the Bible.

  Barnabas appeared, tucking his long white linen shirt beneath a leather belt. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, streaked with silver strands. “I thought I heard you. Did you ride all night?”

  “Yes, and half of yesterday. We went out to Flushing.”

  His father picked up the bucket of water brought in the night before and poured it into the iron pot hanging from the trammel. He swung it over the flames and sat opposite his son. “Let’s start our day in the Word. Then you tell me everything while I get the fire in the oven started. I want to know it all.”

  Benjamin handed him the Bible and they studied a passage, ending with prayer. He watched his father as he prepared for the baking day. It had been the routine for many years now. Barnabas would come down early for his time with God and then get the bakeshop ready for the day while Mary tended to the younger children. Once Abigail arrived, Mary would spend the day baking, and Barnabas could take care of the farming chores early in the day and the affairs of the town in the afternoon.

  It was an arrangement that worked well. In England, Barnabas had been the baker in the hamlet at a time few households had their own oven. Here in Southold, the homes the founders built all had an oven of some sort. But the townspeople still loved the Hortons’ treats, and the Horton hearth was the largest in the village. Mary still couldn’t bake pippin pies fast enough for the town, and Barney baked the family recipe for crisp little ginger cakes almost every evening.

  “I thought you’d gone further when you didn’t return. What did you find out?”

  Benjamin stood and walked to the north-facing window. It was still dark but for a tinge of orange-pink sky to the east. He folded his arms and leaned against the casement. “They have Johnny. They are keeping him on a ship in the harbor, the King Solomon. The charge is that he was privateering.”

  Barnabas held his armful of logs midair. “Privateering? How can they claim that? Wasn’t Johnny up in Connecticut?”

  “He spent most of last year doing that, trying to rally some volunteers to attack New Amsterdam. But apparently, of late he sailed straight into the harbor at New Amsterdam, I suppose under the guise of trading. Who knows what he was planning. He has quite a few friends in Flushing and Hempstead. Mayhap they thought they could overthrow Stuyvesant by themselves.”

  Barnabas stuffed the logs into the oven and added moss. He picked up the flint box from the shelf above the hearth and struck a spark. He left the door open as the wood started to burn and watched it, bellows in hand, ready to get air to the fledgling fire. “The reverend’s son has always been a bit rash, has he not?”

  “Father, he believes passionately that we will not have peace as long as the Dutch are on the west side. I agree and I rather admire him for taking a stand. People in this town criticize him, but I believe one day they will thank him for his efforts.”

  Barnabas chortled. “Very well, but the news we have is that Cromwell has declared peace with Holland. A messenger from Cromwell’s army notified New Haven that he is now the First Lord Protectorate of the Commonwealth, and has instructed New Haven to set our policies in alignment with that treaty. We’ve had a boundary now on Long Island with which we need to abide. Johnny should have known if he entered their harbor, they’d take him prisoner. Mayhap he wanted that, though who could begin to imagine why.”

  He closed the oven door. “But no matter how he got himself in the predicament, we must find a way to get him home.”

  Benjamin fell silent. He wasn’t sure if he should share the plan he and Joseph had talked about just yet. He wasn’t even sure if he agreed with Joseph, or at least his heart didn’t. He had not successfully put a wall between it and Heather Flower yet. But right now he should be thinking of Johnny.

  “Father, perhaps our troop should ride into New Amsterdam on the attack. Perhaps that is what Johnny was thinking—that if he couldn’t convince anyone to attack with him, he’d risk himself to bring on the troops. He’s got many friends out there that would ride beside us to overthrow the government and free him, all in one swoop.”

  Barnabas sat there, his mouth open, moss-green eyes penetrating. “Surely he would not do that?”

  “Joseph and I think we should go back, this time prepared to fight and free Johnny.”

  “If you take our militia and our horses again and engage in battle out west, the Narragansett will no doubt attack the east end. We have known for a long time they wait for the opportunity. We are under orders from New Haven to train every week, and indeed it has been difficult without Captain Youngs here to supervise that. But we cannot send what we do have off on a war with the Dutch.”

  “It’s the Dutch who make the Indians to the north dangerous, trading them guns for pelts.”

  “That may be, but no—you will not be riding out there again. Wells and I have been elected as deputies to the court and will be going to New Haven within a fortnight. We’ll petition the court to negotiate his release. I’ll talk to John today. Mayhap we can leave sooner.”

  Benjamin rubbed his neck. Thank goodness. He didn’t like the plan anyway. But he’d rather it be Father who told Joseph. He scooped some oats from the old oak cask and dumped them into the pot, the water now a rolling boil.

  The chatter of his younger siblings drifted down from the upper chambers and he heard Mary come down the stairs with them. He startled when he overheard her greet Heather Flower at the bottom.

  His father gave him a curious look. “Oh. I forgot to tell you we have Heather Flower with us.”

  30

  April 25, 1654

  Benjamin rushed out to the front hall. She looked frail like a bird. Her dark eyes lacked their fire and had the softness of a frightened doe. She gave him her small smile, almost as if she felt shy with him. But she possessed the kind of beauty that could weather rain, hardship, or whatever life tossed her way and it would not be lost.

  Mary stepped forward and threw her arms around him. “Ben, you are back. How I’ve prayed for you and Joseph. You are both safe?”

  “Yes, Mother. Everyone is. We’re all back. Heather Flower, I am both pleased and surprised to see you here.”

  Mary turned and put her arm around her. “She became ill, Ben. She’ll stay with us until she gets well.”

  Heather Flower’s voice was soft and tentative. “Thank you, my friend. I am grateful to see you. Grateful you have returned.”

  “What about Winnie? Does she not want you there?”

  Mary spoke for her. “She does. Very much. And I think soon she will go there.” She looked at Heather Flower. “You get stronger every day. And Winnie has told me that she will let you stay. You don’t have to go back to Montauk. Not until you are ready.”

  Benjamin hoped she would never be ready to go. Mayhap this was his chance to convince her to stay.

  After everyone had some porridge, his father kissed Mary goodbye and walked across the road to meet with Reverend Youngs. Before he left he said he expected they would call an emergency town meeting in the afternoon and he hoped Benjamin could get some work done in the fields before that.

  Benjamin was reluctant to leave Heather Flower, but labor in the fields was a family obligation. His three younger brothers followed him out and they gathered tools, the wheelbarrow, and the stone boat—a large flat sled without runners. He let Joshua help Jonathan hitch up Star and they led her out to the field.

  He loved this time of year when winter’s quiet gave way to bird songs and insects chirping. Mary kept honeybees out back by the orchard, and they j
ust now were waking and drowsily buzzing about. He could remember how happy she’d been when Uncle Jeremy had been able to bring over a shipload of hives from England. Not a favorite cargo of his, however.

  Caleb and Joshua both favored their father and looked like Joseph at a younger age, except Joshua had Mary’s lighter, hazel eyes. But Jonathan looked much like Mary’s papa, and bore his name. All three boys were at an age where they could be helpful in the fields. They were pretty good with a sling and a bag of stones too, and could bring home quail and occasionally a pheasant.

  Today they would be doing a man’s work, pulling the larger stones from the field that the women had not been able to remove.

  The first stones they dug around, and while Joshua and Caleb both pried with shovels, Benjamin rolled them onto the sled. When they had the sled full, they worked on a couple of larger stones that they would not be able to move as easily. They dug a deep hole next to each and then pushed the rocks into it. They shoveled enough dirt to give them something to plant over it and called it done. They worked throughout the morning with little talk until they headed back to the house for dinner.

  Joshua looked up at his brother as they walked. “Ben, do you like Heather Flower?”

  He laughed, his dimples showing. “Why, yes, I’d say I do. You do too, do you not?”

  “Oh, yes. I just thought maybe you’d marry her and then she could always stay here. I don’t think she wants to go home.”

  “Well, little brother, I wish it were that simple. But life is not like that, I’m afraid.” Oh, how he wished it were.

  Caleb smiled a knowing look. At fourteen he’d begun to have some thoughts of his own about the girls in their small hamlet. “You’ve had a sweet spot for her for a while now, haven’t you?”

  He thumped Caleb’s shoulder. “You’ve found me out, but you mustn’t tell her.”

  Caleb laughed and ran ahead, calling back. “Oh she knows. I know she knows.” Joshua and Jonathan took off after him and the three chased each other in circles while Benjamin went inside.

  Barnabas came home for a dinner of ham, beans, and a hearty brown bread. He said little except Benjamin needed to come back with him for the meeting. Joseph would meet them there too.

  Benjamin wolfed his food quickly, watching Heather Flower pick at hers. Finally he asked her if she would like to take a walk in the orchard. They got up, leaving the rest of the family with eyebrows raised, and walked outside.

  The day was a cool spring day, but the sunshine warmed his face. Hopefully it felt good to her. “I wanted to tell you about my trip to Flushing.”

  “Your mother did, Benjamin. What Barnabas told her.”

  “Yes, well, I want you to know that I didn’t receive any word about Lieutenant Van Buren. He didn’t show in Flushing and there were no attempts of contact with the Dutch militia. And Father will handle matters from here on. He intends to leave for New Haven as soon as possible. We’ll be discussing that at our meeting.”

  “You do not need to explain, my friend. I know you dislike Dirk, but I don’t believe you would harm him.”

  “It’s not a matter of disliking him. It’s more disliking the Dutch interfering with our lives. They are not peaceful neighbors, though they sometimes pretend to be. They’d rather take us over. But the issue now is Johnny.”

  “I think you dislike him.”

  She wore her pouty smile and he wasn’t sure if she teased or if it truly made her unhappy that he didn’t like Van Buren. “All right. You said it and I suppose it’s true. I don’t like him. He makes my teeth grind and I want to punch him. There. Is that what you want to hear?”

  “Yes, because it is true.”

  The apple blossoms were in full bloom and she plucked one from a branch and brought it to her nose. A bee followed close and Benjamin swatted it away. She moved toward him and he could not help but take her in his arms. He wanted to protect her. He held her tight and she rested against him. He’d never stopped loving Anna, even after she’d married the Tucker boy. It would always be the same for Heather Flower, he feared. She loved someone else. But did that mean they shouldn’t be together?

  “Benjamin?”

  “Yes?”

  “I should go back to my aunt. We should have a courtship. An English courtship.”

  “We both have broken hearts, Heather Flower. We need to be honest with each other. I love you, but not in the same way as I loved Anna. Is that all right with you?”

  “Nuk, my friend. Yes. Winnie tells me today is God’s gift. We do not know if we have a tomorrow. Dirk is gone from me and I cannot stop loving him, but I must not think of him.”

  He lowered his cheek to hers and whispered in her ear. “Yes, then. We’ll court. And then will you marry me?” Why was he pushing? She’d just told him what he wanted to know.

  “I think so, my friend. If your family will have me.”

  They walked toward the house and already doubt beat at Benjamin’s resolve. If this was right, why did it feel so bad? This would be so much like his father’s marriage to Mary. A marriage of convenience. For the first time he could understand what it had been like for his father when his mother had died. But there was a difference. He was pretty certain Mary had loved his father when they wed. Heather Flower came to this union from the same place he did. In love with someone else.

  They walked into the kitchen and no one looked at them, save for Hannah. But the raised eyebrows had been replaced by merry little smiles, and it was a forgone conclusion that his family would welcome her with open arms.

  Abbey arrived for the afternoon, and took Hannah, Sarah, and Misha to the upper chamber for a nap. Mary and Heather Flower worked in the bakeshop and the first afternoon hours were busy with patrons. They said hello to Mrs. Corey and Mrs. Wells and sent them home with loaves of thirded bread, Mary’s specialty, next to her pies.

  Mrs. Case and Mrs. Budd always stopped in to sample, whether they bought or not, and shared a little gossip. Today they exclaimed about the apple blossoms in full bloom.

  Mary nodded. “We’ll have quite a crop to be sure. I’ll be drying the pips all winter.”

  Patience and Lizzie finally came by to pick up sacks of ginger cakes. Lizzie’s home, built by Zeke, Barney, Jay, and Ben, had its own large kitchen complete with baking oven. She had the joy of filling her own home with the delightful smells of baking. Times had changed since those early days in Mowsley, and as harsh as things could be, they had settled into a nice life in Southold.

  Lizzie nibbled on a crust of bread. “The weaver will be coming through tomorrow, Mary. Did you remember?”

  “Oh yes. I did some spinning last night. I’ve plenty to give him. Patience, let me put your bread order together.”

  “Give me a few biscuits, too, for the little poppets who are good.”

  Mary smiled. “According to you they are all good. I’ll give you a baker’s dozen.”

  As much as she enjoyed the company, she was a bit relieved when they were gone and she had a few minutes to talk with Heather Flower alone. “You look so much better today, really this is the first day I could say that. I’ve been so worried.”

  “I do feel better, Aunt Mary, and I know it is time to go back to my aunt’s home.” She stood by a bucket of water, washing out the bowls and platters from the earlier meal. She ladled a bit more water from the hot cauldron.

  Mary wrinkled her brow. “Is that because Ben is home?”

  “Yes.”

  How did she mean that? “Because he makes you uncomfortable?”

  “No, my friend. He makes me feel good. Happy. Happier than I’ve been for a time. I told him he could court me, but I must go to my aunt’s for it to be right.”

  She rushed to hug her. “Oh, Heather Flower, I’m so happy. ’Tis good for both of you. Ben has loved you for a long time.”

  “I know. I want it to be good for him.”

  Mary drew back and fell silent. She busied herself with wrapping the remaining loaves in cloth and
brushing the crumbs off the table. Muffkin rubbed her side against her leg and she stooped to pet her. She sensed something in Heather Flower’s answer. Was Heather Flower just giving up? Was her heart truly with Ben, or had it shattered when Keme died? Or worse, was she in love with that Dutch lieutenant?

  31

  April 28, 1654

  Mary was encouraged to see Ben spend his spare time, short as it was, at Winnie’s after Heather Flower returned. She’d had her doubts in the beginning, but the more they saw each other, the more she became convinced they shared an enduring love. Ben had been crushed when Anna married. Now it was his turn to be happy.

  The courtship was more a formality, like the banns. As soon as those could be posted, they could marry. They both knew each other well enough.

  She’d helped plan several weddings, and with Lizzie’s and Patience’s help, this one would be lovely. In Boston a wedding was hardly an affair at all, but Southold tended to keep the celebration a slight bit reminiscent of old England. The men seemed to tolerate it, even enjoy it. And for Mary with her Anglican upbringing, it just seemed natural.

  The women were gathering today. Abbey was already here to watch the girls, the men and boys were out working in the fields—except for Barney and Mr. Wells, who’d gone to New Haven—and Winnie was on her way with the bride-to-be.

  Mary finished with her baking for the morning, set out platters of little cakes and tarts for the ladies. Lizzie and Patience arrived and they pulled out some of Mary’s best laces, bolts of blue brocade, and soft silk from her trunk. “I’m not sure what Heather Flower will want to wear, but if she would like a nice gown, I’ve got the fabric.”

  Lizzie didn’t waste a second. “I’ll make her dress. I’d love to.”

  “I’ll help you, Lizzie. And Mary, I’ll help you set up for the dinner. We can decorate with wild iris and it will be so beautiful.”