A Place in His Heart (20 page)

“Heigh-ho! What is this, Mary? Did you not think I would make it home? I am late, no doubt, and for that I humbly apologize.” He grinned at her.

“B—” She grabbed his leg. Why could she not say his name? Why would words not come from her mouth?

He leaned over, encircled her waist, and in one fluid movement swung her high onto the saddle's pommel in front of him.

“What is it? Tell me. What is wrong?” His smile faded and the lines of his brow deepened. “Did something happen to one of the boys? Where are the boys?”

“Barney. Jeremy is here.”

He glanced toward the house. “Here? Is he all right?”

“Yes, he is fine, but tired. He went to find Jay and Ben. They are hauling his trunk up to the house.”

His arm relaxed around her as he picked up the reins. “Very well, that gives us a moment to share a proper welcome.” He urged the workhorse toward the house and rested his chin in the hollow between her neck and shoulder.

Myriad emotions engulfed her, but she was incapable of acting on any of them. She simply slumped in his embrace and allowed him to take her the short distance home.

As Barney lifted his saddlebags, Jeremy pushed the wheelbarrow into view, with Jay and Ben flanking him. Their eyes met.

She sensed a message was sent between the two, no words needed.

Barney wrapped his arm about her shoulder. “Let us go in and see to the fire. They will join us forthwith.”

“It was so hot today, but tonight I feel quite a chill. A storm is coming in. The fire shall feel comforting.”

Barney tended the fire while she stirred the pottage and cut crusty chunks of white bread. She laid out cheese and butter, purchased from farmers near the hamlet.

They both turned to the door as Jeremy, Jay, and Ben entered.

Barney helped them lug the trunk to a space beside the far wall and eased it down. He embraced his brother with the Horton clan bear hug and they clapped each other's back. “We began to wonder about you.”

Jeremy ran his forearm across his brow. “I'd wanted to come sooner, but it was difficult to leave. Joseph, Benjamin, what say we open the trunk. Your Aunt Lizzie has sent some sweets that I think you will particularly enjoy.”

He lifted the heavy lid and dug out a wooden box. He handed it to Ben. “Marbles and tops. I brought books as well.”

“Thank you, Uncle Jeremy.” Jay opened the box and both boys took the toys out and found a place on the floor.

“The thank-you goes to your Aunt Lizzie.”

“So very generous of her.” Barney looked at Mary and helped her to return to her chair. “Are you all right, my sweet? Has this been too much?”

She took the seat. “I cannot tell you how I treasure word from home. I have craved it.”

Jeremy bent over the trunk once more. “Lizzie sends you a silver sugar box and salt box. And these are sugar shears.” He handed them to her. “They were your mother's, Mary.”

She closed her eyes against the tears, but one trickled down her nose and she brushed it away.

“Here are French laces and beeswax candles too. Lizzie kept thinking of what she would want if she were in your place.” Jeremy continued to pull presents from his trunk. “And I am not without my gift for you—coats, boots, and gloves for everyone.”

“And letters? Are there letters, Jeremy?”

His shoulders drooped and he bent over the trunk again. “There is a letter from Lizzie as well.” He pulled out a single parchment, folded and sealed with wax.

“And from Papa? Is there nothing from Papa?”

Mary noticed the tender look he gave the boys and steeled her heart for what she knew would come next. She straightened her shoulders and reached for Barney's hand. “Jeremy, you've come with news.” She must sound brave.

“Aye, that I have.” Jeremy's chest rose with a deep intake of air as he squared his shoulders and faced her. “My years as a shipmaster have given me much practice with delivering difficult news, Mary, but nothing has prepared me for this. 'Tis with much pain in my heart I must tell you of your father's passing—”

“No! No! Oh, please, no.” The first no a shriek, the last a hoarse moan. She reached for Barney.

He pulled her into him. They rocked to and fro as Mary sobbed into his shoulder and he stroked her hair.

Jay and Ben dropped the tops and stood.

In two quick strides Jeremy enveloped the boys in their father's characteristic bear hug. “She will be all right. She needs some time to cry. She will need much more time to grieve. Are you both all right? He was a good man, was he not?”

“Yes, Uncle, he was.” Jay's square jaw pulsated like his father's did in difficult times.

Ben wept, and after returning his uncle's embrace, he joined Mary and his father as they encircled him in their arms. She knew he did not remember her father much, that his tears were much more a reaction to hers.

She kissed the top of his head and lowered a damp cheek against it, as she let the tears flow. She yearned for Jay to lower
the barrier that held him back. “Prithee, come, I must have you near me.” Torrents cascaded down her reddened cheeks.

Jay made his way into her arms. He was stiff as she hugged him tightly.

“Thank you,” she said in a voice barely audible.

Considerable time passed as the four huddled together. Barney at length pulled chairs near the fire and placed Mary in one, offering Jeremy and his sons the others, while he took his seat next to her.

After long moments, she dragged her eyes from the fire and faced Jeremy once again. “I wrote letters to Papa. He'll never get them.”

Jeremy leaned forward, grasping her hands. “Aye, but I told him you fared well in the New World and he was so proud of you and all that you were accomplishing here with Barn.”

“Tell me how this happened, Jeremy. How did he die? How long ago?” The last word she spoke cracked, broken.

“Six months ago. The physician said it was his heart.” He glanced at Barney and back to Mary. “There was not much warning. When I returned from my last voyage, he was very hale indeed. So hearty that no one, not even Elizabeth, thought he could be ill. Whether he felt pain or not, and did not tell anyone, we will never know. Mary, Elizabeth wants you to know she was with him two days before he passed and he was in good spirits. She wrote you this letter.”

He handed her the letter. “I have an apple seedling for you, as well. I will bring it from the ship on the morrow. Elizabeth said he started it from the apple trees in his orchard. He knew you would long for English apples. I believe she sent you some seeds too.”

Mary held the letter, smoothing it with her fingertips, then
lowered it to her lap. “I shall wait to read this. I fear I need some time before I do. Perhaps on the morrow, when you bring the seedling, I could have a few moments alone.”

Barney leaned forward this time, his strong hands reaching out to cover her own. “Take the time you need, Mary. I truly wish I could bear this burden for you, to take the pain and make it my own. I know this is only a small balm for your hurt, but do try to remember Papa is now with your mother and with our Father in heaven. There is much rejoicing, I am certain, amongst the angels that he has come home.” His eyes were watery as he kissed her hands.

She stood and surveyed the supper that remained on the table, cold and forgotten. “Thank you, Barney. I beg your forgiveness, but I should like to lie down. Prithee, would you sup without me? 'Tis but a meager meal . . .”

He put his hands on the chair and pushed up. The effort made him look older, as if the past hour had aged him ten years. He took her arm and guided her to their room. “We shall be fine, do not worry about us.” He gently helped her to remove the bodice and skirt of her dress, leaving her in her shift, and laid her on the bed, pulling the quilt about her. “I will bring you something to drink, to help you sleep.”

But before he returned, her pain gave way to slumber.

She slept soundly as Barnabas, Jeremy, and the boys sat at the table, the meal long finished, much of it eaten in silence.

Benjamin played with his crumbs as Joseph stared at his empty plate.

Barnabas leaned close. “Joseph, did you have enough to eat?”

He glanced up. “Yes, Father.”

“I want you to know I was proud of you tonight. It was exceedingly kind of you to share in Mary's grief. We have had enough of it ourselves. We know what she is going through, to be sure.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Sit by the fire with Benjamin and study your schoolwork. I want to discuss something with Uncle Jeremy.”

Jeremy nodded toward the trunk. “Fetch the books. Your Grandmother and Grandfather Horton sent them. Find one you like.”

“Thank you, Uncle Jeremy.” Benjamin opened the trunk.

Barnabas turned to his brother. “I have news from Reverend Youngs and Reverend Davenport. They feel it would serve God better for Reverend Youngs to plant his own church. So many
have accompanied Reverend Davenport to Quinnipiac, there are almost more ministers than laymen. Eastern Long Island is not far from New Amsterdam, and they fear the Dutch will inhabit the whole island. ” He waited for Jeremy's reaction.

“And would you go with him?”

“Aye, I would. My intentions have always been to work with Reverend Youngs in planting a church. If Davenport desires us to go to Long Island, I'm willing. We made great plans, and though they seemingly fell apart once we came to New England, I still believe we will see them to fruition. There have been many difficulties since we arrived, but God has not deserted us.”

Jeremy studied Joseph and Benjamin, absorbed in their books. “Does Mary know?”

“About my early talks with Youngs? Aye. But I have just come home with the news of Long Island. I am not sure how she will feel. There is no township there, nothing but wild forests.” He lowered his head and rubbed the back of his neck.

“What about property in Quinnipiac? You were to build a house.”

“Aye. I cannot plan on that now. Reverend Youngs comes in a fortnight and he should know a little more regarding the plan.” He absently traced the
J
scratched on the table. “I do dread telling Mary. Most assuredly she will not like this.”

“No doubt I should find somewhere else to be when you do. Mayhap I should take the boys down to
The Swallow
in the morning.”

Both boys looked up quickly, eyes bright. Had they heard the discussions about the house? If they had, it didn't show. Mayhap they had learned to take things in stride with their old father. The uneasiness he felt inside spread like a tidal undercurrent. “Very well. Now what say you we call it a night? It has been a
trying day. Let us seek God's comfort and wisdom and then go to bed.” He picked up his Bible and turned to the blue ribbon. He read a chapter from Ephesians, then led them in prayer. “You boys go climb up to your bed and get your nightshirts on. Wash and rinse your teeth first.” He nodded toward the slipware pitcher and bowl.

After seeing the boys to bed, Barnabas helped Jeremy arrange a pallet. “Thank you for being so careful with Mary today. I do appreciate that you waited until I came home before telling her of her father.” He scratched at his beard. “I know it was not easy for you.”

“I'm sorry to be the one to bring such sadness.”

“I know it was difficult. There was something I was going to ask of you, brother. I would have liked to have waited, but now it seems I should take care of this business.”

“What is that?”

“She has been through so very much. I should like to demonstrate my regard for her. There is a bed she admires at Mistress Waring's home. 'Tis a very ornate bed from France, with carved posts and rich curtains and tassels. Methinks if you could import one it would make Mary very happy.”

“Softening up, eh, Barn?” He wanted to tease him, but he had no heart for it. “I've never thought being drab and stuffy a requirement anyway.”

“Aye, I quite agree. Not a requirement, but frivolous finery to call attention to oneself is not pleasing to God. We should desire to be humble. But I know at times she finds me harsh. To see her smile will be worth it.”

“Then I will make arrangements. It will take some time, of course.”

Barnabas clapped his shoulder and bade him good night.
“I'll give you payment for it, and the balance when you bring it, should it not be enough.”

His eyes felt wet as he walked to the bedroom. Yes, she worked exceedingly hard and that was all he asked of her. He needed someone to be a helpmeet as he established a safe place for his family to live, worship, and grow. How interesting he'd thought he would teach her a few things about faith, but she was teaching him. Mayhap he was softening, but mayhap that pleased God as well as Mary.

A crash of thunder woke Mary and she lay there remembering the events of the night before. It was too painful to think about what might have been if she had remained in England, close to her father. Too painful to think about much. She listened to the rain pummel the thatched roof and turned to Barney, amazed he still slept. Quietly, she slid to the edge of their bed and got up. Slipping on a robe, she tiptoed to the kitchen and refreshed the embers. She tossed a log into the hearth. She listened intently as the fire caught and wrapped itself around the dry wood, creating a cacophony of snaps and hisses accentuated by pelting rain.

Jeremy walked in with Jay and Ben in tow.

She jumped. “Oh, I didn't hear you.”

“We are going down to the ship. We thought we would get an early start. How are you?”

Her dry eyes burned as she closed them, not a drop of moisture left for a tear. “I shall be all right.” She looked at the boys and attempted a smile. “God watches over us and I am surrounded by love. That is what I need and desire right now.”

Ben gave her a hug.

Jay looked at the ground.

Jeremy leaned against the table.

“Would you like to take a bit of bread and cheese with you?”

He shifted his weight. “Aye, that would be good. I don't know how long we will be.”

The meal packed, she tucked it into a sack. She watched the boys, running ahead of their uncle as they headed toward the bay beyond the trees.

I should
make a meat pie for our supper. Jeremy would like
that. He usually looks forward to good meals whilst he
is here. I need to keep busy. Lizzie, oh Lizzie.
What shall we do?

Barney entered the kitchen. “I am surprised you are already up. Are you all right?”

“I think so.” She looked from him to the window and back. “I don't know. No, Barney. I have missed him so. To think I shall never see him again is something I can hardly bear. Do you think Lizzie and Zeke would bring the children and come live with us? By the time they could be here, our house should be finished.” How she longed for her family.

He avoided her eyes.

“Did you hear me, Barney? Are you all right?”

“Aye, I am fine. I'm a bit lost for words because I have something to tell you and it seems you have been through enough for one day.”

Her eyes grew large. She looked out at the grayness of the day. “There's more? How can there be more to tell me?”

“Mary, sit by the fire.” They both took a chair. “My meetings with Reverend Davenport and Reverend Youngs did not go as I expected.”

“Oh?”

“Nay, but we have had some very good discussions regarding what it is that the Lord would have us do.”

“What, pray, do you mean?”

“There seems to be good cause to look for another location for our church. We've sent Mr. Hallock across the sound to Long Island to scout the possibilities there. Reverend Davenport's scouts were there previously and had good reports of the area. No one has built anything out on the east end and it seems to be a prime location for a new township, a new church. The Indians that are native to the land are very cooperative, very helpful.”

Mary's eyes flitted from her husband to the fire and back. “By your leave, Barney, do you mean we would not be going to Quinnipiac? Not building our house there?” She stood, grasping her sides, and turned her back to him.

“Mary, your disappointment I cannot endure right now.” He took her by the shoulders and gently turned her back toward him. “There are many factors we must consider in the placement of our church. It is Governor Eaton himself that has requested Reverend Davenport send planters to Long Island. Connecticut has held conveyances there for a few years, but the danger of the Dutch attempting to take it over is greater than ever. Reverend Youngs and I both feel called by God to plant a church and build a township and we feel led to this place. I cannot tell you how important this is. Can you be patient with me?” He held her shoulders, looking at her, his anxiety clear.

A torrent of tears burst forth. “Nay, Barney, I have no patience left. There are so many things we put off whilst you plan our future. Our home, a family—all this you say to wait on the Lord for. In God's time. How do we know what is God's time anymore? I wanted my family to come live with us and now 'tis too late for Papa. When do we start living our lives? And why would we go to the wilds of Long Island?”

He pulled her to him and held her while she cried. “There
now, my sweet, you may cry. Cry all that you need. It is true that we must wait on the Lord and trust in Him. You have been very brave to follow me here, and you have been a strong helpmeet to me. I beg you to remain strong. When Mr. Hallock returns, we will make decisions quickly, God willing, based on his assessment. I promise you. We will make haste, and if it not be a house in Quinnipiac, it will be a house on Long Island. Reverend Davenport tells us the Indian natives call their settlement Yennicott.”

She sniffed and cleared her throat, wanting to sound in control. “I do not know why I should believe you. You lied to me at our wedding when Jeremy spoke of coming to New England. All those years you did not once tell me of your desires. When you finally told me we would be coming here, I tried so hard to be strong. I told myself you had been through so much when Ann died. And you put so much blame and guilt on yourself. Wherefore, I do not understand. People get sick and many die. You should not rebuke yourself so.”

His arms stiffened, then released her, but still she continued. So much needed to be said. “Barney, I am at the point where I question what I am required to put myself through. I do not understand you. I cannot seem to reach the secret places of your heart. There is a place you hold deep inside, that I cannot touch. I am left so hopeless, so alone.” Spent and weary, she sank in her chair.

He reached across and smoothed her hair back from her brow, his eyes kind and forgiving, but wet.

She regretted the words that poured out unchecked. “I am sorry, my husband. I did not mean . . .”

“Nay, you are right to say it. I have not always been open with you and may God forgive me.” The trouble with deception
was, would you ever be believed again? There was such a fine line between sparing one's feelings and lying. If he told her right now he loved her more than anything else in the world, would she believe him? Nay, but it wouldn't be true either. “You worry God punishes you because we have no child together. Mayhap it is me He punishes. It was hard to deal with Ann's death, Mary, harder than I could ever tell you. Prithee, let that suffice.”

His sadness tore at her heart, her being. She brought him into her arms and kissed his tears. “We have been through too much, we two. Say no more. I forgive you as God forgives you.”

Jeremy and Jay pushed through the door, a spinning wheel between them and set it in a corner. Ben bounded behind them, a sturdy little apple tree in his arms. She gathered it to her and ran her fingers over the rough fabric that bound the roots. Did Papa ready the seedling for the long voyage or had he been too ill? Yes, it most likely was Lizzie who dug it and wrapped it so carefully. She'd done well. It looked so healthy. The spinning wheel unnoticed, her throat tightened as did her resolve. “I shall not plant my apple tree until we have reached our home, Barney. I pray thee, find it quickly.”