Rebellious Heart (15 page)

As he watched her stumble along, his heart drummed with what was becoming an all too familiar longing for her.

Could he really
just
be friends with her and nothing more? When every time he was around her he could hardly keep from wanting to hold her?

A gust of wind slapped his face, reminding him of the gravity of the situation. And the danger . . .

His father and the others remained silent as they watched Elbridge help Susanna mount and lead her away.

Finally his father spoke. “Friendship is a good place to start.” He wiped his mouth as if trying to contain a grin.

There was a chorus of ayes from the men.

A cord of embarrassment wrapped around Ben, and he shrugged, hoping he appeared more nonchalant than he felt.

How would he ever stay mere friends with such a beautiful woman? He had a feeling it would be one of the hardest things he’d ever have to do.

They wrapped the body in a sheet and left it with the constable in his shed with guarantees that on the morrow he would search the coast for any further clues that might reveal the murderer.

“I’m confident you’ll find the right man to hold accountable for these crimes,” his father said as they trudged down the dark Braintree lane toward home.

“Let’s hope so.” Ben hunched into his cloak, the chill of the night piercing through the homespun wool. He led his
horse behind him and slowed his gait to match that of his father.

He wouldn’t have the chance to investigate until he returned from riding circuit with the judges. And in the meantime he’d have to pray nothing else happened and that Susanna and Dotty would use extreme caution and stay safe.

The clop of hooves and the distant bark of a hound echoed in the crisp fall air, which was quickly turning into winter. Even the scent of woodsmoke from a nearby farmhouse had taken on a distinct life against the changing of the seasons.

“So, you’re in love with the Smith girl?”

Ben stumbled at his father’s question that was really more of a statement. “No. Not at all.” He forced a short laugh. “Of course I’m not in love with Susanna Smith.”

“Well, you certainly fooled me tonight.”

“I cannot deny I’m attracted to Susanna,” he admitted. “Who wouldn’t be? She’s intelligent, witty, and interesting.”

“She sounds like the perfect match for you.”

He wanted to agree. Susanna was everything Hannah was not. He thought about her more than he should. And even in her grandfather’s study earlier, he’d felt a pull toward her that was unbearably strong and difficult to resist.

He knew he needed to control himself better around Susanna. Surely he would have less trouble with his attraction once he was finally engaged to Hannah.

“I’m in the process of trying to propose marriage to Hannah Quincy.”

His father plodded forward without missing a step. “Then you love Miss Quincy?”

Did he love Hannah? Ben shook his head. “Sometimes there are factors more important than love.”

“Then you are in love with her wealth rather than her person?”

Ben wanted to rebut his father’s words—similar to those of Parson Wibird from earlier in the day—but something about his father’s bluntness kept him from doing so. “Hannah Quincy will give me what I currently lack, namely the status and approval of my peers.”

His father was silent for a long moment, the steady scraping of their boots against the dirt road reminding Ben of the steadiness of the man by his side. He was a deacon of the church and had been the selectman of the town for years. There was not a nobler or more respected man among the community.

“There’s more than one way to earn the approval of your peers.” His father spoke slowly as if weighing his words carefully. “And often the best way is through strength of character.”

His father’s integrity, honesty, and diligence had gained him his reputation among the Braintree farmers. Maybe he hadn’t risen higher in status, but he was held in the highest esteem by his friends.

“Just remember whose approval matters the most, and ask yourself whether you should be seeking man’s favor or God’s.”

As his father’s words sank deep inside him, Ben didn’t even try to formulate a response.

They rounded the winding road lined with the stone wall that bordered their farm. Ben stared over the dark barren fields resting after the harvest.

It was land. It was better than nothing.

Even so, Ben couldn’t keep from longing for more for his future. Surely his father wanted more for him as well. He
hadn’t sold acreage to pay for his education only to have Ben end up a farmer in Braintree.

“You’re a man now, son,” his father said at last. “I trust you’ll make the right decision.”

Ben nodded, hoping he wouldn’t let his father down.

Susanna stood in the enclosed yard and watched the girls hasten down the winding road, the wind teasing the ribbons that dangled from their straw hats. They didn’t chatter and play as they usually did. Instead they huddled together and scurried through the last of the fallen leaves, their gazes darting to the scraggly oaks and maples. Without leaves, the bare branches were gnarled and reached twisted fingers toward the girls as if to snag them.

“Keep them safe . . .” Susanna whispered a prayer through the trembling in her heart. Even with her father riding alongside them on his way to the tavern, no one could rest easy after last week’s murder.

She’d only had a scant handful of girls arrive that afternoon for dame school, and they hadn’t stayed as long as usual. She didn’t blame the mothers for not wanting their daughters to traverse the country roads.

Mother had restricted her and Mary from going anywhere. With all the preparations they must make for Mary’s wedding, they didn’t have time to go visiting anyway.

Susanna shivered and hugged her arms against her caraco jacket. Low, gloomy clouds draped the sky like a sea of murky gray waves. Now that shorter November days were upon them, they wouldn’t have long before they’d have snow and ice.

How would Dotty survive then?

Susanna glanced at the barn and then beyond to the barren fruit trees of the orchard.

Dotty couldn’t last much longer in the wild. She needed a warm place to stay and steady meals. And safety.

Susanna slipped her hand through the slits in the layers of her petticoats to the embroidered pocket hanging next to her shift. Her fingers caressed the crisp sheet of Ben’s letter.

Dear Diana
.

Dear.

She warmed once again at the memory of the intimate greeting he’d used.

Although his note had been short, he’d indicated he would be searching through records of previous cases regarding runaway indentured servants, checking for precedents and determining if he could find a judge who might be sympathetic to Dotty’s cause.

After last week’s murder, Susanna had tried to use even more care. She didn’t want to chance drawing any attention to Dotty’s whereabouts.

Susanna had only sneaked out of the house one other time to visit Dotty in the barn at night. Most days she passed food to Tom through the milk pail. And Tom in turn hid the food in the loft for Dotty when she slipped into the barn under the cover of darkness.

“Susanna,” Mother called from the open door of the kitchen, “you need to finish sewing the lace onto Mary’s new apron.”

“Yes, Mother,” she called back and then sighed, her breath leaving a white cloud in the air.

If only Ben would write her another letter and advise her further . . .

During Mr. Cranch’s visits over the past week, she’d learned Ben was still riding the circuit with the judges, that he was traveling as far west as Worcester. According to Mr. Cranch, Ben was handling every kind of case and was as honest a lawyer as ever broke bread.

Of course, Mother didn’t think Ben was honest. In Mother’s opinion, no lawyer was truthful. They were in the business of defending crooks, debtors, thieves, and smugglers.

No amount of Mr. Cranch’s praise on behalf of Ben could sway Mother’s disdain of him, not even the knowledge that Ben had been justified regarding Hermit Crab Joe’s defense.

There were many who continued to blame the old man for the latest murder, regardless of the evidence that suggested someone else was responsible. But after witnessing the latest victim, Susanna couldn’t imagine that anyone but the devil himself was responsible.

She pressed her hand against her chest in an unsuccessful attempt to ward off the anguish that came whenever she thought about Hermit Crab Joe. Hence the poor man would have the
M
branded on his cheek for being a murderer even though he was innocent. Wherever he went, whatever he did, people would always view him as a killer.

A spot of blue near the barn caught Susanna’s attention. The tattered edge of a drab blue skirt flapped in the wind.

Dotty’s skirt.

Anxiety spurted through Susanna. She started forward heedless of the cold and the fact that she wasn’t wearing her cloak.

Why had Dotty come out of hiding during the middle of the day?

With long strides, Susanna crossed the enclosure, unhooked the gate, and ran the distance to the barn.

As she rounded the corner, she barreled into Dotty.

“Oh, miss, I beg your pardon.” Dotty steadied Susanna, giving her a glimpse of chipped and dirt-encrusted nails, and hands that were red and cracked from the cold.

“Why are you here?” Susanna asked. “Are you in trouble?”

Dotty cast a glance over her shoulder toward the apple orchard and the woodland beyond. “I think he’s discovered where I’m hiding during the days.”

“The man that chased you?”

The young woman nodded. Her lips were dry and cracked like her hands. Her hair was dirty and lifeless beneath her muslin cap. And the hem of her cloak was frayed and caked with mud. “I noticed that someone had been inside my cave—”

“Your cave?”

“Aye, miss. I found a small cave up in the rocks where I can hide during the day. And I have some apples and berries and a few other things.”

“Do you know for certain your pursuer was prying?”

“I never saw anyone, miss. Not anyone at all. But who else would be looking for me out there?”

Susanna wanted to believe one of the local farmers and his boy out hunting had come upon Dotty’s cave. But she couldn’t ignore the buzzing at the back of her mind. If the murderer had found Dotty’s cave, then she wasn’t safe in the woods any longer.

“You’ll have to stay here. In the barn.” The words came out before Susanna could stop them. But once spoken, she
knew it was the right decision, even if it meant she was slipping further down the slope into disobedience.

“Oh, I couldn’t, miss. I just couldn’t.”

The skin at the back of Susanna’s neck prickled. She glanced over the cornfield her father and his hired workers had recently harvested and then to the woodland across the road.

Was someone watching them even at that moment?

A lone doe stood at the edge of the woods, its ears perked in alertness as though it too sensed the presence of danger.

Susanna tugged Dotty toward the side barn door. “Let’s get you into the barn before someone sees you.”

“But you’ve already done enough for me, miss,” Dotty protested.

Susanna pushed open the door and hustled Dotty inside. The body heat of the animals gave warmth to the barn and took the edge off the coldness of the day. The scent of horseflesh, damp hay, and manure wouldn’t make the barn the homiest of places to live. Still, it would have to do, at least until Susanna could determine what might be the next best option.

A lantern hung above one of the horse stalls, signaling Tom’s presence. And as the door creaked closed behind them, Tom rose and peered over the rail. His gentle eyes widened at the sight of her with Dotty.

Even behind the horse stall, Tom’s dark shadow leaped out at them. Dotty jerked away from Susanna and scrambled backward.

“Tom knows about you,” Susanna rushed to explain. “He’s the one bringing you food every day.”

Dotty pressed against the pigsty and eyed the door.

“I won’t hurt you, child,” Tom said in his low, kind voice.

“You’ll be safe here with Tom,” Susanna promised. “He’s like an uncle to me.”

Dotty nodded, but her face had turned a sickly pallor. She lifted a hand to her mouth, then doubled over and retched in the hay. The heaves wracked her thin body, draining her until she had nothing left to give.

Susanna rubbed Dotty’s back while looking into Tom’s worried eyes.

“It’s all going to work out just fine,” she said, not sure who she was trying to reassure more—herself or Tom.

When Dotty finally straightened, tears streaked her dirty cheeks. “I’m sorry, miss.”

“You have no need to apologize.” Susanna brushed a tangled lock of Dotty’s hair away from her face. “If you’re ill, then I must insist you come into the house where I can care for you properly.”

She trembled at her own bold words. She knew Phoebe would willingly help her. But what about Mother? Would she turn away a helpless vagrant simply because she’d committed a crime in running away from her cruel master?

Dotty shook her head and her eyes turned frantic. “Oh no, miss. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.”

“But if you’re suffering from distemper—”

“This is no distemper.” Dotty hung her head. Then she splayed her hand over her abdomen.

Susanna’s heartbeat clattered to a stop. She was innocent in the ways of men and women, yet she wasn’t naïve and knew a woman could beget a child outside of the proper bounds of marriage.

“How . . . I mean, when . . . ?” She couldn’t get the words past the embarrassment that bridled her tongue.

Dotty continued to hang her head.

The furrows that appeared in Tom’s forehead only twisted at Susanna’s stomach. She was sure he was remembering just as she was the young woman who had been punished the previous summer for begetting a child without a husband.

The elders had gathered at the meetinghouse and had determined the young woman needed discipline for her sin. The men had declared they wanted to make an example of her in order to deter others from fornication.

So they’d marched the pregnant woman out to Mill Cove, strapped her into the ducking stool, and proceeded to lower her in and out of the water until she’d almost drowned.

Like most of the parishioners, Susanna had gone to watch. Every time the group of strong men had lowered the beam that supported the wooden chair, Susanna had wanted to cry out. She’d wanted to ask why no one would hold the father of the unborn child responsible too. She’d been furious at the thought that perhaps one of the men doing the ducking might even be the father of the unborn babe.

But apparently no one had known or cared.

No one except Susanna.

Susanna slipped her arm around Dotty. “You don’t need to say anything more about your condition. We’ll make do.” At least she hoped they would, though she had no idea how she would keep Dotty’s presence in the barn a secret.

“It weren’t my choice, miss,” Dotty whispered. “I didn’t ever want to be with any of the men.”

Bile rose in Susanna’s throat at the thought of the nightmare this woman had experienced.

No matter how grievously she’d already suffered, Susanna had no doubt the elders would stick Dotty onto the ducking stool if they discovered her pregnancy. They wouldn’t care
whether the begetting was the result of her being violated numerous times by many different men.

If anyone should suffer for Dotty’s predicament, it should be Mr. Lovelace and the other men who had taken advantage of her. But Susanna was quite certain the elders wouldn’t make any of the men pay for their sins.

“You’re not to blame,” Susanna said. “We’ll do the best we can to get you settled into the loft. You’ll stay there henceforth.”

“But, miss, I’d be putting you and your slave into much danger.”

“I don’t mind.” Susanna tried not to breathe in the sourness of Dotty’s odor. Maybe Phoebe would help her drag a hot tub of water out to the barn so that Dotty could bathe. “And if anyone should ever question Tom about his involvement, I’ll be sure to tell them it was all my idea.”

“Now, Miss Susie, you know I ain’t gonna turn my back on anyone in need.” Tom rested his arms on the top railing of the stall, dangling the hoof-pick and wire brush he used for cleaning the horses’ hooves. “But I don’t like seeing you sneaking around again.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“We could tell your mama and papa.” His wise eyes urged her to stop now while they could. “They’re good people, and they’ll get help for Dotty.”

“I’m getting assistance. From Mr. Ross.” She was glad Tom didn’t know about Dotty’s stalker and the possibility that he was the same man who had murdered the two women on the beach. If Tom was hesitant about her involvement now, she didn’t want to think about the opposition he’d give her if he discovered the truth.

And even though Tom thought her parents would support
her efforts, she wasn’t so sure Mother would approve of what she was doing. Yes, Mother had compassion for the misfortunate. She’d always taken her duty to aid the poor and the widowed seriously. But she also had given unquestioning obedience to those in authority over her—her husband, the king, and God. And she’d taught her daughters to do the same. In fact, Mother had instructed them that they would learn to obey God by learning first to obey their earthly authorities.

Susanna had always believed Mother, had always wanted to obey, but somehow in Dotty’s situation unquestioning obedience didn’t seem appropriate.

Ben’s words from when they’d been in the secret underground cavern came back to her.
“Sometimes man must look at whose laws he is obeying and determine whether they are just and right and merciful
.
”

Hadn’t he said if the law was tyrannical, then it was their duty to institute fairer laws? Perhaps the system regarding indentured servants was one of those tyrannical practices that needed changing the same as slavery. If a man-made law was in opposition to God’s ultimate law of loving Him and loving their neighbors, did He require His children to obey those laws?

Tom pointed heavenward. “What do you think the good Lord wants us to do?”

“I don’t know.” She wasn’t certain about anything anymore—not since meeting Ben.

“Susanna?” Mary called from outside the barn door.

“Quick, hide!” Susanna said to Dotty.

But Dotty was already scrambling up the ladder.

With the side of her boot, Susanna scraped hay over the puddle of Dotty’s vomit.

The door opened, and Mary poked her head in. “There you are, Susanna. Mother sent me to fetch you.”

“Tell her I’ll be along shortly.” Susanna straightened. “I was just having a conversation with Tom.”

Her words weren’t a complete lie. She
had
been talking with Tom—among other things. Even so, guilt whispered in her ear that she was only piling up sin upon sin.