To Capture Her Heart Page 23

  Heather Flower took her hand. “I know your pain.”

  Lizzie hit her hand to her forehead, anxious to change the subject. “Mary, I just realized I need you to keep books like you did for Father. We need to make lists of supplies. There’s so much to do.”

  Mary shook her head. “Have you lost your mind? I didn’t have a family when I kept books for Papa. Where would I find the time? I have a bakeshop to keep too. And children. Yours are grown. There you have it. Ask Ruthie or Rachel. They both have a head for numbers. They’ll keep your books.”

  They launched into a discussion of what a perfect hat for Grissell would be—a pretty gray wool with a wide brim, bedecked with beads and feathers—and went on to decide that Patience’s house would be a grand place to establish the shop since it was large and in a perfect location on the main road. She had so many rooms, she could still teach in the morning and help Lizzie in the afternoon.

  “Zeke would like that. He’s already complaining to Benjamin that he needs to build another room just for my loom.”

  “Mine is too big for me. And even with my school, there is much room for your hat shop, Lizzie.”

  “How did you come by such a large house?” Heather Flower had never heard Patience’s story.

  “Barnabas helped my father build it when we first came here.”

  “Ours was the first built,” Mary added. “And then Patience’s father was the first one he helped after that.”

  “My parents both died the following year when the fever swept through.” Tears threatened and Mary leaned over to give her a hug. “At least they had a year to enjoy Southold and our new house.”

  Winnie spoke up for the first time. “The Terrys were kind to my people, Patience. And they would be so happy to see how well you do with the children. And would your mother not love a hat shop?”

  Mary smiled and patted Patience’s hand. “Indeed she would.”

  The conversation came back to the shop and finally the wind died down and the afternoon took on a lazy quality they so seldom could enjoy.

  Heather Flower noticed the children had gathered around the reverend and he was telling them a Bible story. Even the men stepped back and listened. When the story was over, someone rang the first bell and the ladies began cleaning up the dinner. By the last bell, all were sitting in their pews again, already reminded of how hard the benches were and trying to find a position that they could remain comfortable in for the next two hours.

  When Reverend Youngs was done preaching that day, Heather Flower found she did not want to leave. She bid Grissell and Nathaniel goodbye with an invitation to the wedding and a promise that she would come out to the manor as often as she could. And in return Grissell promised to come over and buy hats. Often.

  At last she and Benjamin were alone for a few minutes. He told her he’d give Winnie and her a ride home in the wagon, and they went out to the barn to hitch Star up. She watched him as he brushed his horse, then put on the harness. He did it with such care and she loved that about him. He was ready to lead the horse out, but she came to him and slipped her arms around his waist. He pulled her close. “Thank you, Benjamin.”

  “For what?”

  “For being the kind person you are and for taking care of me.”

  “I don’t do that to be kind. I do it because I love you.”

  She heard his words. She just wanted to believe them.

  34

  May 2, 1654

  Barnabas walked into the large general assembly room with Joseph. The New Haven court was about to convene. His first day as deputy to the court would be difficult, given the nature of the situation. The men of the court did not have the same personal involvement, and his concern was the issue would be buried under other matters of the court.

  They took their place on the bench designated for Southold, and Barnabas thumbed through the papers he’d carried with him. The pouch on his belt held the bond money. He was prepared but surprised when the judge called on him immediately after opening with prayer and Scripture.

  “If it please the court, sir, I have a letter from Reverend John Youngs requesting the court’s assistance in acquiring the release of his son, Captain John Youngs Jr., from New Amsterdam. I have also brought the required bond.”

  The judge cleared his throat and his eyes held a peculiar gleam as if he enjoyed this. He leaned forward over the table. “Deputy Horton, I will accept the bond and the letter from the reverend, but I must inform you of the escape of the captain. Governor Stuyvesant has sent us a complaint that not only did their prisoner escape from the King Solomon, but they have thirteen horses unaccounted for, and he’s suspected of being responsible.”

  “Your honor, that is absurd, if I may. If those Dutchmen cannot hold him on a ship, that is their trouble. But to accuse him of stealing thirteen horses? That is rather a jolly laugh, is it not?”

  The judge pounded his gavel. “Hear, hear, Mr. Horton. That is out of place in this court. The court finds that the good men of Southold should return Captain Youngs to custody in New Amsterdam immediately. The bond is held until such time as the Dutch court is able to turn over the prisoner. The horses are to be located and returned immediately as well. And upon his release from New Amsterdam I hereby reprimand him to the court of New Haven.” He pounded his gavel and it was clear he was finished with the issue.

  Barnabas walked out of the church edifice with his son.

  Joseph pounded his father’s back once they were outside. “Cheers for Johnny!”

  Barnabas shook his head. “Nay, it is not cheers for Johnny. He is in deep trouble.”

  “But Father, he wouldn’t have stolen the horses. Surely it’s the Indians. Or they don’t know how to build a proper fence and the horses have escaped as well as Johnny.” He chuckled. “Johnny can’t be blamed for any of this.”

  “Oh you think he cannot? You have another think coming. For escaping he can expect to be fined about a hundred pounds. But if he’s found guilty of horse theft that is another matter.”

  “If he didn’t do it, how would they find him guilty?”

  It was Barnabas’s turn to chuckle. “I see you have been gone too long from merry old England. When did anyone ever have to do it to be condemned by the court for something? This is terrible news for John. He will be devastated.”

  They walked toward the port. The day was beautiful—green, fresh, and a bright blue sky—but it could have been gray, dreary, and dark for all they noticed.

  “I know, Father. I think Benjamin and I had best go look for Johnny as soon as we get back.”

  He thought for a moment. “Your mother will not be happy if Benjamin leaves, especially if he’s headed west. I don’t think we can send him.”

  “Oh, but you can spare me?” He joshed, of course.

  “Aye. For now we can. But before you go anywhere we must study the possibilities of where he might have gone. And when you do go, you’ll take the horse troop, of course.”

  They walked the dock to the plank and joined the captain on the upper deck. He invited them to his quarters and they spent the rest of the morning discussing weather and tide. By high noon they left New Haven.

  Heather Flower watched as the Corchaug people worked in the field, planting the corn so important to their survival. Those unable to work in the fields sat under open-air thatched roofs grinding dried corn.

  Heather Flower made beads, but she also loved wandering the forest gathering yellow birch for brooms. The younger girls helped her make them, but she enjoyed searching for the twigs and smallest branches by herself. It gave her time to think of Benjamin and their wedding.

  She was happy about the plans, and she did love Benjamin. Everyone did. Winnie, Mary, Lizzie, and Patience had most of the plans complete and a good start on the dress.

  As she turned a corner, Winnie called from behind and she paused. Her aunt labored toward her, out of breath. “Where are you going?”

  She took a breath. How should she answer? For su
rely she was on her way to the tulip tree. “I’m looking for the yellow birch.”

  “So far out here? You can find it much closer to home.” Winnie scanned the greenery on the oak and chestnut trees. “There really isn’t the right kind of tree this far into the forest.”

  “I’m not sure why I came this way. Let’s head back, we can watch for the limbs on the way.” She took her aunt’s arm and for a while they were silent. “You are happy for me?”

  “I love Benjamin as if he were my son. He’s been in love with you for a long time.”

  “And what of Anna? Did he not love her?” She stooped to pick up a thin twig from the forest floor.

  “That does not matter. She is married now.” She offered to take the stack of twigs so Heather Flower could continue to pick up more.

  “I think it does if he still loves her.”

  “Do you still love Keme?”

  Heather Flower stopped walking to protest. “It is not the same.”

  “How not?”

  “Keme died. He did not leave my heart. But he will not ever be here for me to touch. To hold. To lean on.”

  “I’m sorry. I know that. It is the same with my Winheytem. But we have mourned. It is behind us. But I think there is another in your heart. Another who is not Benjamin.” Her aunt studied her.

  “You mean Dirk. No, I have put him from my heart.”

  Winnie took her hand. “Heather Flower, marry Benjamin. You will be happy. He will treat you well.”

  They walked in silence until they were almost to the gate. “I want to do the right thing.”

  “Then pray, my child. Pray to God to guide you. Sometimes the best thing is right before us. We do not need to make it so hard.”

  “May we go to Mary’s house, my aunt?”

  Winnie looked to the ladies grinding corn. “Yes, we could. We could help Mary with the bakeshop. Tuesdays are busy for her and Barnabas is gone.”

  They continued on the path toward Southold. Heather Flower’s demeanor was lighter and she’d have run except for her aunt. In some ways Winnie seemed to be improving, but her energy was not returning. She slowed her pace so her aunt could keep up.

  Benjamin swung the axe, splitting the wood with a precise whack. He paused to mop his brow and noticed the two women walking up the lane. “I’m surprised to see you. Is everything all right?”

  Heather Flower stood tall, smiling. “Yes. We thought it good to visit.”

  He nodded his head. “Ah. I’m not so sure if this is the right time. Father and Joseph came back today.”

  Winnie glanced up at the house. “Did they find out about Johnny?”

  “Yes, I was just about to go in. They were waiting for Reverend Youngs and he just got here. Let’s go in and see what’s happened.” He stood back as the ladies entered. How would Heather Flower take this? He didn’t know much yet, but what he did know was not good with the Dutch.

  They walked into the hall and Heather Flower sat on the floor as was her custom, but Benjamin found a chair for Winnie and one for himself from the kitchen. Sarah slept in Mary’s arms across the large room. Everyone was grim save Hannah who sat on the floor and teased Muffkin with a length of blue yarn. Even little Jonathan looked glum as he sat watching his sister.

  Barnabas paced until everyone settled. Then he turned and folded his arms. “John, Johnny has escaped.”

  He leapt to his feet. “What? What do you mean? Where is he? In New Haven?”

  Barnabas put his hand on the reverend’s shoulder. “They don’t know where he is. The court took the bail and your letter. But they want Johnny returned to the New Amsterdam jurisdiction. When we find him. I think they are assuming he will come back here.”

  “That’s what he should do.” John shook his head slowly. “I don’t understand. We were so close to getting him released.”

  Heather Flower sat like a statue. It was always dangerous when the men crossed the boundary line. She knew what would come next. Benjamin and Joseph would go back to find Johnny. And what if they came across Dirk? Who would hurt whom?

  Joseph took a deep breath. “There’s more, Reverend.”

  “More?”

  He stood up. “There are horses missing. Quite a few. For some wild reason they think he had something to do with it.”

  Heather Flower could not help speaking. “Whose horses?”

  “We don’t know.” Barnabas looked at John instead of Heather Flower. “And there could be a number of different reasons the horses disappeared.”

  “But what would he do with more than one? How many are missing?”

  It was obvious John was having a difficult time imagining how this could have happened—Heather Flower was too.

  Joseph went and stood by his father. “They said thirteen. I think that right there should show anybody with a mind that it’s not him.”

  Benjamin had been sitting, listening. He gave Heather Flower a heartbreaking look before he got up. “Joseph and I need to ride in again and get him. We pretty much know where he would be hiding, but he needs an escort out. We need the horse troop.”

  His father raised his hands palms down. “Hold it, I already told Joseph that you were not going. He can take the troop.”

  Mary’s eyes were pools of gray as she listened. “Why do either of you have to go? That horse troop trains every Wednesday and they should be able to go—without Jay or Ben.”

  Benjamin shook his head. “Johnny is the one who was training them, Mother, and they need a leader. Joseph and I always fill in for Johnny. We can’t just send them off.”

  “I’ll go, Benjamin. You stay and get ready for your wedding.”

  He glanced at Joseph, then looked at his father. “You would send Joseph by himself?”

  “He would not be by himself. He’ll have the troop.”

  Benjamin looked at Heather Flower. She hoped her eyes said stay. He glanced down at his mother and her look definitely said do—not—go.

  “All right. I imagine my duties as groom cannot be neglected.” At last he looked at Reverend Youngs. “Joseph will bring him back safe.”

  Glad the issue was resolved without involving Benjamin, she was anxious to leave. He walked her to the door with Winnie trailing behind, giving them a moment alone. He bowed to her and took her hand, bringing it to his lips. She liked the warmth of his breath on her hand. The kissing habit from the Old World was quite nice.

  Benjamin offered to take them home, but Winnie insisted the walk would do her good.

  “Everything will be all right, my child. Joseph will bring back Johnny and we will all celebrate when he is home for your wedding.”

  If she told her aunt that she feared it would not be so simple, would her aunt understand? Or was she so counting on this marriage she would refuse to look at all of the implications of Joseph and that horse troop riding back into Dutch territory? And she could not help it—she worried as much for Dirk’s safety as Joseph’s and Johnny’s. Why didn’t Johnny just give himself up? New Haven would pay the bond and he would come home. Men made things so difficult.

  And Benjamin, dear Benjamin. He wanted to go with Joseph, probably more than anything, except he couldn’t hurt Mary. He would never deliberately do something she did not approve of. And Mary wanted this marriage as much as Winnie.

  35

  May 6, 1654

  Benjamin brought the wagon out to pick up Heather Flower the following Saturday morning, and he helped her load it with her sacks of beads. She also brought her bead-making tools and sacks of shells. On the ride into town she did most of the talking and he listened intently. She liked the idea of helping Lizzie and Patience open a hat shop.

  They pulled up in front of Patience’s house, where Lizzie and Patience stood out front discussing a new sign. The ladies helped carry the sacks into the house, and Benjamin asked what they planned on naming the shop.

  Lizzie looked at Patience with her brow raised. “I don’t know. Something that uses both of our names?” She looked a
t Heather Flower. “And yours too, Heather Flower. You are in this with us.”

  Patience immediately protested. “No, Lizzie. It has to be all yours.”

  “But we are using your house. And Heather Flower is doing all of the beadwork.”

  Heather Flower shook her head. “No, my friend. This is your dream and it should bear your name.”

  They wandered back outside as Benjamin chuckled. He pulled a ledger book from under the bench of the wagon and handed it to Lizzie. “This is from Mother. She said you must begin to use it right away and enter everything. She says Uncle Jeremy brings her a stack of these every year, and if you’d like him to bring you some too, she is certain he would be happy to.”

  Lizzie ran her fingers over the leather-covered ledger. “This is just like the ones Mary kept for Father. Tell her thank you, Ben.”

  “I will do that.” He said his goodbyes and planted a quick kiss on Heather Flower’s cheek before he climbed up into the wagon. “When you decide about the name, let me know and I will make you a fine sign.” He clucked at Star and headed home.

  “What do you think, Heather Flower?”

  “I think Patience is right. I think you must call it Lizzie’s Hatterie.”

  Patience’s face lit up. “’Tis perfect. It shall be called Lizzie’s Hatterie then.”

  Lizzie’s laugh cascaded like tumbling thimbles. “I like it. But it shall always be our store, agreed?” She looked at both ladies until they nodded.

  They went inside to figure out which of the front rooms would be the display room and which would be the workroom. Heather Flower sat down at a table with her shells and began to work on creating beads. She chose the inner white part of the shell for pure white beads, and made beads of three different intensities of purple—one almost black, one violet, and one almost blue. The yellow and orange jingle shells made tiny beads for bursts of color.

  Lizzie supplied her with some small glass vials that Doc Smith had given her, and she stored each color of bead in a different vial. She worked through the morning while she listened to the two friends go over the floor plan and storage ideas.