A Place in His Heart (22 page)

“But they are peace-loving people and look to the English to
help defend themselves from the warriors of the north. They are farmers and willing to help us establish our crops. They gave Peter a pipe, which means peace and friendship. He gave the sachem—their chief—a cup. We may settle there with ease, knowing God has blessed us.”

Barney cleared his throat. “And the timber? Is there an abundance on this Long Island as we have in Massachusetts?”

“Aye, there is. Our first concern is to build a town meetinghouse, for church services and meetings. We'll need to establish our government, and of course that will take some time. We shall divide up lots for our houses and each man will be responsible for building his own. From the looks of your cottage here, you will manage very well and mayhap could be of service to others in their construction.”

“Most assuredly.”

“You are also amongst the better educated, and we shall depend much on you as we write our charters and organize our town government. Reverend Davenport and I have made the decision that I will proceed to eastern Long Island and plant the church. May we count on you as well, Horton? You would be an important part of this decision.”

Barney took Mary's hand before he answered. “What God has called me to I cannot refuse. Indeed, I am honored to be included as one of the founders. I should like to tell you, Mary is an important part of the decision as well. She has done much here to bring together a group of women, to the end they meet weekly to discuss the growing concerns they have in this part of the world. She tends to understate its importance, but I can assure you that many of the men here agree their wives are faring better than what they expected, and much thanks belongs to her. She would have much to offer the women of Long Island.”

The reverend nodded. “You are a courageous woman to have followed your husband to New England, Mistress Horton, and you have joined a brave company of women. A small lot, but very brave. 'Tis a noble thing for you to give of your time to help those who struggle here.”

“We are only as brave as our husbands, Reverend.” She put conviction in her words and tried to sound courageous. Truly she wanted to be. But in truth, she hardly recognized herself anymore. She had lost herself somewhere along the way. Who was this person going into the wilds of Long Island?

September 1638

She wasted no time in preparing for the move. Her fear of going once again to an unknown, wild land was put aside. Regret nagged in her heart that she would leave behind her ladies' group. After Emma's wedding, their bond had deepened, and the support they gave one another remained the backbone of their community. But she knew the firm foundation they'd formed together would fare them well.

The meetings still took place on Wednesdays and many important decisions were made. The moments of levity when they shared a bit of gossip lifted their spirits even during dreary times. She depended on the ladies as much as they depended on her.

The Terrys would be following Reverend Youngs to Long Island too. Embarrassed by her discontent, she kept it to herself. Still, her desire to be settled in their home was great, and dreams of a babe crept into her heart.

'Twas hard to believe Barney suggested he go ahead to build their homestead. “We have gone through much together and I am not afraid to go through it all again. I know what to expect living
in a tent, and the troubles of going through a winter without a real house. The boys have grown and can be of help to you. Reverend Youngs tells us the Indians are more than friendly, they are eager to help us. Please do not leave us behind.”

“Aye, my sweet, very well. You speak with conviction and 'twould be hard to leave you after that speech. Mayhap but a dozen men will be going with the reverend in this first planting. Some will leave their families behind whilst they build, but a few will bring their wives and children. We go down on a whaling ship, and our belongings come a bit at a time later. It might be well for you to harvest and preserve as much food as you are able before we depart.”

“When will that be, Barney?”

“Reverend Youngs will be ready as early as October. I should like to plan accordingly.”

“Will the reverend be bringing his family?”

“Aye, he will. His older sons will be of use to him as we build. Joseph and Benjamin certainly will be, as well.”

She set about immediately pulling root vegetables from her garden and packing them in baskets. She picked the herbs and hung them to dry around the hearth. Those that she could, she uprooted to transplant at Yennicott.

Jay and Ben picked plump blackberries and ate their fill in the process, the rest she sugared and dried into a stiff leather. She milked her cows to put up butter and cheese in crocks. The boys helped grind corn and oats from the fields, and she brought in the pumpkin and squash.

The flax harvest was most important. If she could spin most of it before they departed, they would have much linen for cloth. They gathered the seed, brought the reeds down to the river, and set them to soak.

She led Jay and Ben to the river's edge. “If you check these daily for me, I would very much appreciate it. Just be sure they are very soft and the fibers easily separated. We are short of time and I should like to spin this before we leave for Yennicott.”

Thank the Lord for days spent learning the art of spinning from the precious ladies of Winnacunnet. No matter now the gossip and complaints she'd listened to. Spinning would be the only way to clothe her family for a time. Who knew when fabric could be imported? And she was not ready to wear only buckskin and fur.

Jay wiped his brow with a sleeve as they surveyed their work. “Yes, ma'am. And I shall haul water for you, if you like, when we come to the river.”

“That would be very helpful, Jay. 'Twould be one less thing for me to do whilst I ready for our move. Are you boys excited about this next adventure?”

Ben splashed his face with water. “I am. I liked helping Father build our house here, but he says at Yennicott we get to cut timber and build a wood-framed house with him. He says it'll be very big.”

“That means more work, you dunce.” Joseph chortled.

“I'm not a dunce. I read more than you do. You're a dreamer.”

“Am not!”

“Jay, Ben, enough. I thought you had both outgrown this childishness. You are not behaving like the thirteen- and eleven-year-olds that you are, I must say.” She looked sternly at both boys. “To be sure, there is much to be said for hard labor
and
good book learning. You need both to become upstanding, honorable men of good consequence, like your father. And Jay, there is nothing wrong with being a dreamer. It was men's dreams
indeed that made them climb into ships to see what was on the other side of the water.”

Ben hung his head. “I'm sorry, Mama. I didn't mean to upset you.”

“Yes, ma'am. It was my fault.” Jay was quick to accept blame.

“Thank you both for your apologies. We need to be kind to each other. Our patience shall be stretched for certain in the next months. At least we had a township here, somewhat established. At Yennicott there is none. 'Tis up to us to build it. We shall need to depend on one another. Prithee, be kind to each other.”

She did worry about Jay. His main complaint about moving to Yennicott was leaving the special place she'd found for him to commune with God and remember his mother. She understood his sorrow.

Inside their tiny house she set about folding linens. Each piece reminded her of how she prepared for their last journey. It was difficult deciding what to bring, what to leave behind. But the most difficult thing to leave, of course, had been her family.

The delicate handkerchiefs Lizzie and the girls had made for her beckoned her, and she held them to her face, eyes closed as she breathed in. The fragrance was but a memory. Lavender came to the top of her list of things to plant. The smiling faces of her nieces danced before her and she could almost hear their laughter. Moisture collected on her lashes and she dabbed with the handkerchief.

She opened her trunk and pulled out the letter from her sister. She sat at the oak table and fingered the envelope. As she considered reading it once again, the troublesome ringlet spilled across her forehead, and as she brushed it aside, memories of her father flooded her. How often would she reach out to smooth his wayward lock of hair? Turn for that last wave goodbye?

There was no escape from the tears now, as they came in a rush. She buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders convulsed and her arms ached to hold her father once again, this time in a joyful welcoming embrace, rather than in the grip of farewell.

She did not hear Barney as he entered. “What is this, my sweet? Why do you cry?”

She allowed him to lift her into his arms. His chin rested on her head as he rocked her gently.

“I thought I would read Lizzie's letter, but I cannot. The sadness is too much and I think I shall just pack it away in the cask. I do not think I can read it again.”

“Aye, it is most likely best to put it away. Mayhap it's time you wrote Elizabeth.”

“Yes, I think I should. Perhaps Zeke will decide to bring the family here. What a joy it would be to have those little girls here with me. And Joshua. The boys would enjoy each other's company so very much.”

“Do not put too much hope in it. I do hate to see you disappointed. Ezekiel has never expressed interest in coming across the pond. I do not imagine him deciding on something like that.” He watched as she shifted her gaze out the window. “Would you like to come out and look after Northstar for me whilst I ready my tools for the journey? I need to fix my wheelbarrow.”

She brightened a bit. “Yes, I would like that. Perhaps take a ride, if you do not mind?”

“Nay, I do not. I think it should do you good.”

She picked up her riding bonnet and they walked out to the small stable. The big Black's mane was in a tangle and she combed and brushed until he gleamed. She hoisted Papa's saddle to his back and allowed Barney to help her up. She relished the freedom as she urged him into an easy lope toward the trails.

Wind raced past her and the bonnet fell to her back, her hair falling loose and wild. She tilted her chin upward and grinned at the rhythmic pounding of hooves.
Papa, you were right. This is
truly an art form and I thank you so much
that you taught me. I never feel closer to you
than when I run with the wind on Northstar.

She felt the closeness to her heavenly Father as well.
Lord,
I thank Thee for our blessings. And Lord, if I
may find favor with You—I'm trying very hard—
please bless me with a babe. Amen.

She gave Northstar his head and watched the hickories' and oaks' fall color fly by in a blur. They entered a low meadow, dotted with an occasional sugar tree with leaves blazing red, where the sun danced in a dappled fashion over the silver sedge and wild rye. She slowed her mount and allowed him to stretch his neck toward the grass for a nibble while she surveyed her surroundings. She noted a long stand of dogwood with wool grass intermingled with chokeberry. Might she find a stream to water Northstar? She clucked and he raised his head and flicked his ears back toward her.

“Come on, boy. Shall we see if there be water beyond the trees?”

They reached the stream's edge and she slipped off and dropped the reins. Removing her boots, she waded in, skirts drawn high, and giggled as the cold water lapped at her ankles. She settled down on a fallen log and watched her beloved horse drink. Oh, how much fun it would be to ride with Lizzie. To spend an afternoon chatting and sharing their thoughts.

Northstar raised his head from the water and nickered. She looked upstream and toward the meadow, but did not see anything.

With a heavy sigh, she rose and lifted the reins. “All right,
are you telling me 'tis time to go home? If you say we must, I shall not tarry.”

She pulled on her boots, climbed onto the log, and swung herself into the saddle. She turned her horse toward home, but he stopped. She raised the reins a bit and gave a gentle prod to his side.

He stood rigid, his head up, ears at full alert.

Mary looked about and strained to hear what her trusted horse listened to. “Come on, boy, you are frightening me. Let's go home.” She leaned forward, reins up.

Still he stood rigid.

She pressed his side with her small heel and urged him forward, but he began to back. “Northstar, what are you doing? We must go home. Barney might worry. He shall not let me take you for a ride again if you misbehave. Come, now. Let us go.”

His head shook and he began to prance sideways, nearing the stream. She looked about wildly, fearing someone might be hiding. She could try to cross the stream but did not know how deep it might be. As Northstar stopped once again, she looked down and there she found the source of his anxiety. A large snake lay stretched out, its broad triangular head the color of copper, swinging to and fro, its tail silently vibrating. The grayish-brown body with red cross-bands blended into the leaves and mud.

Mary froze, but her mind raced as she tried to think of what to do. Barney would tell her to pray. He would also advise her God answers prayer “in His time.” Oh, mercy. She prayed the Lord would lead Northstar from the danger.
And, Lord, please, if I
may ask this one time, please hurry.

Trusting in God, she relaxed her grip on the reins and gave Northstar his head. He immediately began to back up once
more. He backed until they were safe. Finally, he turned and took Mary out into the clearing and headed toward home.

It was only when they were in the yard that she wept as she leaned forward to embrace Northstar's neck. She wrapped her arms around him as far as they would go. He patiently stood, as if he knew she needed that moment, but turned his head as Barney and Jay approached.

“Heigh-ho. What goes on here? Did Northstar give you trouble?” Barney put his hand on the bridle.

Mary raised her head, her cheeks streaked with tears. Words tumbled. “Oh, no, Barney. He saved my life. We found a stream. It was a most lovely spot. I let him drink and then he wanted to go. But when I was back in the saddle, he would not. He knew there was danger and would not let me go near it. It was a big snake, with a copper head. Northstar, you are so brave.” She hugged him once again and then fell down into Barney's strong arms.

“It is so unusual to see a snake in these parts. Mayhap you should not ride alone. Thank the Lord He kept you safe and Northstar protected you.”

Jay stepped forward and took the reins. “If you would like, I can brush Northstar down and feed him.”

“Thank you, I should like that very much. I do believe I am ready to go inside and see about our supper. Barney, would you come with me?”

“Aye. You still shake. We should sit awhile and not worry so much about our supper. Joseph, ask Benjamin to help you, then the two of you finish your chores.”

She accepted Barney's arm and they walked to the cottage. Inside, she looked about at the mess she'd made. “Oh, goodness.” Stacks of her kitchen rags and table linens sat beside
the crockery and sewing bag. “How did we ever accumulate so much? It seems we did not come here with very much, but look at this—I don't even know how to pack all of it.”