To Capture Her Heart Page 8

  They worked throughout the day. They built snares with bent trees and nooses, identified berries to eat, and caught fish. Before the sun set, they’d built a fire to roast the squirrels and fish they’d caught day. As they sat fireside, Joseph hiked in to join them for the night, and the younger boys were entertained by their brothers’ stories of coming over from England on the ship called The Swallow with Uncle Jeremy.

  Jonathan’s hazel eyes grew big and he glanced at the trees that surrounded them. “Were you afraid when you got off the ship and there were just dark woods, nothing else?”

  Benjamin chuckled. “No, we were glad to see land. We were sick of the ship by then and wanted some good food to eat and soil beneath our feet. Right, Joseph?”

  Joseph sat with his knife, carving on a thick stick he found along the way. “That’s right. And Father was brave so we thought we should be too.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Jonathan. “You are a brave lad, are you not?”

  Joshua laughed and pushed at Jonathan’s shoulder. “You’re a lily-liver, aren’t you?”

  “Am not!”

  Joseph’s look was stern, just like his father’s. “There will be none of that, especially out here in the wilderness.” He held up his stick that had grown legs and a head. “Can you guess what I’m carving?”

  Caleb answered a split second before Joshua. “A horse—it’s Star I bet.”

  Benjamin leaned close to the fire, the flames flickering on his dimpled cheeks. “Grandfather Horton used to carve horses for me and Joseph. We used to watch him sit by the hearth after supper and whittle. It was fun to see a block of wood become a beautiful horse. Sometimes he would make a cat, but the horses he always made for us.”

  Joseph nodded.

  The flames died down and finally they brought out their blankets and settled under the starry sky. Benjamin and Joseph kept their muskets close by their sides with the boys between them.

  They lay watching the stars as more of the twinkling lights filled the dark. “I miss our grandparents,” said Benjamin.

  “I do too. I miss our mother too.”

  Jonathan’s small voice could barely be heard. “We’ll see Mother tomorrow, won’t we?”

  Benjamin chuckled. “Of course we will. Joseph and I have another mother too. She died, Jonathan, when I was too young to remember her much—but Joseph does.”

  Joseph propped himself on his elbow. “I do remember her. And Mary says that’s a good thing. She said she never wants me to forget.”

  Benjamin’s eyes were closing. “That’s good, because by you remembering I won’t forget either.” He tried to picture his mother in his mind. He liked Mary’s story about the stars and wondered if every generation that passed there were more and more new stars. Then sleep engulfed him.

  They woke up with a start to movement in the bayberry bushes.

  “Who goes there?” Joseph called as he and Benjamin grabbed their muskets.

  Nothing but quiet for a moment, and then a man stepped into the clearing. “It’s me, Lieutenant Van Buren. I’m on official business so put down your weapons.”

  Benjamin stood, barrel trained on Dirk. “What kind of official business? We just got rid of you and you’re back? You know, you’re mighty near the Indian fort right now. Who is your business with?”

  “I have an official complaint against Captain John Youngs for illegal trade in our port. If he continues his activities, he’s subject to arrest. I’ll be delivering my documents to your father and Mr. Wells tomorrow.”

  Joseph gestured with his musket toward the fire, which was but low embers now. “Put your weapon down and sit. You’ll come in with us as our prisoner actually. And explain yourself once again at our town meeting.”

  “What’s your authority?”

  “As a member of our town militia, I have all the authority I need, right, Benjamin?”

  Benjamin glanced at his three younger brothers huddled together, eyes wide. “That’s true, Van Buren. You’ll be treated well as our prisoner, but it’s time you Dutch learn that the treaty we have with you does not include riding into our territory whenever you like. There’s a war going on at home.”

  With their prisoner’s hands behind his back, and the sun up, a hasty breakfast was served, with the three younger complaining that cold meat was not that appetizing at the break of dawn. Dirk nodded his head toward his knapsack. “There’s biscuits in there.”

  Benjamin smiled at the sad faces when he said no to the offer. “It would not be much of a lesson of survival in the wilderness if we ate what was packed in, now would it?” He nodded at Dirk. “But I will fetch you one. We don’t starve our prisoners.”

  After their meal, they made Dirk walk with them and led his horse back into town. In the meetinghouse Benjamin found it hard to concentrate while the men convened to discuss the lieutenant.

  He watched out the window as Caleb, Joshua, and Jonathan joined the other town boys for a game of hoop war. The three, with their hoops in hand, charged the other boys, with each fallen hoop a casualty. He glanced out after a time and noticed they had tired of the hoops, and settled for a game of marbles. He grinned as he watched the young Hortons hit marble after marble—as well they should, growing up with two big brothers to practice with. Caleb could almost beat him and Joseph, but Uncle Jeremy remained the champion. When it came to arm wrestling, no one yet had whipped their father.

  He closed his eyes and imagined how Heather Flower might react to him and Joseph taking Dirk prisoner. So he welcomed the decision, when it came, to release him and send him on his way. No use in starting a small war here. And no use in distancing himself from Heather Flower any more than he already was. But would Van Buren go home? Or was his intention to find her?

  Dirk was escorted to the livery and Miss Button was brought out, saddled and well brushed. At least they’d treated her well. He didn’t like that Biggs and a couple of his men from the militia were escorting him out of English territory. He’d have no chance to stop and talk with Heather Flower. But he’d had some satisfaction in delivering the papers in regard to the activities of Captain Youngs, though he admired the captain’s gumption. Mission of the Cavalry accomplished, mission of the heart not even close.

  They cut through Indian Neck, and he searched the face of every woman he saw for her to no avail. Soon they were once again in deep woods and he turned his attention to matters at home. Nicholas Visscher would arrive from New Amsterdam sometime in the future, and his orders were to accompany him through the wilds of Connecticut as the famous mapmaker took notes and studied the land.

  It was a good assignment. The job boiled down to scouting, which he liked doing. And it would be good to get his mind off of Heather Flower and the English for a while. It would take him a couple of months of planning and he looked forward to that as much as the trek back into Narragansett territory.

  The day he had rescued Heather Flower was not luck. He knew that land like his own back lot. But a strategy to avoid contact with the likes of Ninigret and his men would take some thought. The tribe moved with the seasons, but he could almost predict where they would be on a given week.

  Biggs turned him loose just past Wading River, and he urged Miss Button on toward Flushing. He’d stop there for the night and gather his thoughts before riding into Fort Amsterdam. There was one last thing he could do for Heather Flower, whether the Hortons liked it or not—and he loved her enough to give it a try.

  11

  September 25, 1653

  Two hot pippin pies sat on Mary’s windowsill to cool. The apple harvest had just begun, but she did not wait to bake the first fresh pies of the season. She’d picked one basket, brought them in, and sliced them up for the pies. And if she promised the boys a slice, they’d help harvest the bumper crop without much complaint. It was the same every year.

  Between now and Christmastide the demand for her pippin pies would exceed everything else in the bakeshop, even Barney’s little ginger cakes. Lizzie and Patience helped h
er each year with the baking and in return she sent them home with baskets of apples and all the bread they needed for the week.

  Winnie usually made new apple baskets for her, but this year Lizzie and Patience helped her make them. Still, she’d send some apples and baked goods to Winnie and Heather Flower. Friendship meant not needing to be paid back. She remembered so many times that Winnie had given to her in just that spirit.

  This year Lizzie suggested Mary put together a recipe book filled with treats from the bakeshop, and she decided she might as well start now, with little Sarah still asleep and the pippin pie recipe fresh in her mind.

  She found an empty journal that was just right for this project. She wiped her hands on her apron, picked up a pen, and dipped the nib into the ink bottle.

  To Make a Pippin Pie

  Take 6 medium pippins or any apples, peel them and mince or slice them very fine. Stir ¾ cup sugar, ¼ cup flour, ½ teaspoon cinnamon, ½ teaspoon ginger, and a pinch of salt in apples to coat. Put your best pie pastry into a 9-inch pie pan. Pile apple mixture into pastry and dot with 2 tablespoons cold butter. Top with second pastry round, cut slits, and crimp edges. Bake in hot oven until crust is browned and juice bubbles. Halfway through baking, brush with rosewater and sprinkle with sugar.

  There, she’d started it. If she wrote a recipe down each time she baked, it would probably be done in no time at all.

  After supper, Caleb, Joshua, and Jonathan went out to the orchard with her and, with the promise of pippin pie, climbed the trees to reach the apples she could not. Together they picked enough apples to fill fifteen baskets while Hannah played next to Sarah, telling her baby sister all about pippins and poppets.

  Mary was worn out by the time they gathered with Barney and Ben, but with Sarah in her cradle and Hannah already in bed, she sat with her redware bowl on her lap, paring and slicing apples as she listened to Barney read from the Bible. Each perfect slice fell into the drying basket next to her feet and would provide for good eating through the long winter.

  She finished one basket that evening, and on the morrow, between baking, she would work her way through more. Even after all the baking, drying, and sharing the bounty with neighbors, there would be plenty to trade for sugar when the ship came in from Barbados.

  Caleb took Joshua and Jonathan off to bed, and Mary finally set her knife and bowl down, rubbing her sore fingers. Sarah would wake up soon for another feeding. When she did, she’d take her up to their room for the night. But for now she had a moment to visit with Ben.

  “There will be a harvest moon on the morrow.”

  Ben and Barney both looked up from their books and smiled.

  “I imagine Jay and Jane will come over to help us bring in the pumpkins. Zeke and Lizzie too. We have a big crop this year. It must be the honeybees. They’re thriving.”

  “Yes, Mother. I was checking the pumpkins today—they’re ready for picking and we could have an early frost this year so we need to get them in.” Ben glanced at her hands. “Your fingers look raw from cutting apples. At least the pumpkin needs to cure awhile before you do anything with them.”

  Barney nodded and looked back to his book for a moment, then looked up again. “I’ll have Caleb and Joshua help you with slicing apples tomorrow. And you should have Abbey help too. You take a nap when Hannah and Sarah nap and let Abbey work on the apples.”

  Mary gave him a warm smile. “That is sweet, my husband, but as much as I or Abbey plan their naps, Sarah is not inclined to oblige and sleep when Hannah does. And Hannah is turning three. Her naps are shorter and shorter.”

  He shook his head. “They grow up too soon, those poppets.” He raised his brow at Ben. “You did.”

  “Ah, Father, and you’re not rid of me yet, are you?”

  Mary’s eyes flew open. “We don’t wish to be rid of you, Ben. But we do wish for you to be happily settled with a good wife to keep you company. You must tire of sitting with us old folks, eh?”

  “Not so much. I rather enjoy your company.”

  She rocked for a minute. “You should go fetch Heather Flower and have her help us bring in the pumpkins. She could take some home for Winnie.”

  “I could do that, although I imagine they have plenty of squash.” He winked and closed his book. “And now I am off to bed.” He kissed her good night and bade his father good night as well.

  Sarah wiggled and sighed in her cradle, and Mary got up with her bowl of peels and apple seeds. “I’m going to dump these in the barrel and then take Sarah up. She’ll be ready to eat soon.”

  Barney jumped up. “Let me get that for you. You take Sarah up and I’ll be along shortly.”

  He gave her a hug and she picked up their little girl and headed for the stairs. She was blessed. But she wanted Ben to be blessed too. Barney was fond of saying “in God’s own time.” She hoped God’s time would be Ben’s time soon.

  Benjamin hitched Star and started down the main town road toward the Corchaug fort. He was glad Mary suggested he ride out. As much as he’d tried to not think about Heather Flower, he did wonder if Van Buren had managed to stop and see her.

  He also wondered what she would think about what he and Joseph had done. He didn’t have to defend their actions, but he’d like the chance to warn her that the man kept lurking and he didn’t like it. She probably didn’t regard it as lurking at all. Fudge.

  Last he’d heard about Winnie, she was feeling better, so mayhap she’d come with Heather Flower and pick pumpkins with them. It would do them both good to get away and visit.

  He shifted his weight on the bench. It’d been a long day. He and James finished building the town’s one-room schoolhouse, and he’d tried to help with harvest through most of the construction. Today he’d built a desk with the new schoolmaster, Mr. Howell. He leaned forward to stretch his achy back.

  He entered the palisade and pulled up close to Winnie’s wigwam. Heather Flower worked outside, under the shelter of a lean-to, stitching a pair of moccasins with white cylindrical beads. She didn’t notice him as he walked up.

  “You are hard at work this afternoon.”

  She looked up with a smile. “You thought I did not see you. But my ears hear.”

  Her glad-to-see-you smile made him forget what he intended to say and his face warmed. He collected his thoughts. “Mother told me I should come and ask you to help with our pumpkin harvest. It’s the harvest moon tonight. It should be beautiful. You could stay with Jane and Joseph.”

  She looked toward the wigwam. “I don’t know if I should leave my aunt. I thought she did better after we came to Sarah’s baptism, but now she weeps and sits.”

  “Well, she should come with us then. It will be good for her to see Mother. And it’s good to be busy, especially when you’re hurting.”

  Her small smile spread. “Do you speak of me too, Benjamin?”

  Surely she heard the commotion his heart made in his chest, but he would not miss this chance. “Mayhap. Come on, gather your things and let’s go get Winnie.” He followed her inside the hut.

  Winnie refused, and after much persuasion, Heather Flower finally came with him. They rode mostly in silence back to the Hortons.

  The family moved out to the pumpkin patch situated west of the orchard. Sarah was in a sling around Mary’s neck and even Hannah was out to pick pumpkins. She ran ahead of everyone to find the biggest. A gleeful shriek announced her find and she tried to lift it. Benjamin took his knife out to cut the vine, then lifted Hannah’s pumpkin for her. He lugged it to the cart as Heather Flower helped her choose a smaller one.

  As the sun went down in the west, the full harvest moon rose in the east—a big sugar-cake moon—and they worked in its ethereal beauty until midnight.

  Benjamin took her home, The night was still, save for Star’s footfalls, and Heather Flower was quiet.

  “Has Van Buren come to see you?” He could feel her eyes on him.

  “When?”

  “Well, anytime I guess. But in the
last couple of weeks?” He looked over at her as Star followed the well-known path.

  The moon lit fire in her eyes. “I have not seen Dirk in the last few days, Benjamin, but that should not matter to you, should it?”

  “I’m only asking because Joseph and I had a run-in with him. I took my brothers out into the woods to spend the night and hunt. Van Buren was there, and we believe he was spying. We took him in, and he was interrogated and then released. I wanted you to know, in case you hear about it somewhere else. He was well treated.”

  Now her eyes glittered. “I will see Dirk as I choose, and I will not tell you, my friend. I’ve no desire to hurt you, but there is nothing to be hurt over. I’ve told you both I need you as my friends. But that was not acting like a friend.”

  He slowed the wagon as they came to the fort.

  “Heather Flower, it had nothing to do with you. And I only told you about what happened because you will find out about it one way or another. I’m not trying to pry.” But as she climbed down from the wagon without waiting for him to assist her, he wondered if his words were true.

  12

  October 3, 1653

  Barnabas arrived early with his three youngest sons as Mr. Micah Howell prepared for his first day as the new schoolmaster. He had been instrumental in procuring the teacher and had pushed hard for the township to move forward with plans for a grammar school.

  When he and Mary first came to Long Island, he schooled Joseph and Benjamin himself. One of the earliest laws he and the founding fathers enacted was the requirement of parents to teach their children to read. He taught them with the Bible and a copy of Aesop’s Fables.