The Old Cape House (25 page)

***

Two weeks passed, and on Monday, December 23, Maria heard the sound of a sleigh gliding over the snow. As it came closer, she ran to the kitchen window. The pieces of cloth and leaves stuffed along the perimeter of the panes stopped the penetrating cold air but
left only a small opening for viewing. She hurried to the front
window
to see who it was but didn’t recognize the lone figure that was
driving the sleigh. He had a scarf over his face, protecting him from the cold wind and hiding his identity. The sleigh stopped just past her view.

The top of a spinning wheel was peeking out from under a large canvas, which was tied down over other items. She could not contain her excitement and ran out the door without her shawl.

“HELLO! HELLO THERE!” she called to the driver.

No greeting was returned. In silence the stranger tied off the
reins, jumped down and began to untie the ropes protecting his cargo from the elements.

The young girl stood quietly waiting for a response from her
first visitor. Within seconds her body began to shiver from the freezing cold air. She quickly turned away and headed for the house to find
her shawl. Once inside, the door blew open. Startled, she stepped
back to the hearth. Then saw the mysterious man enter the house and drop a large basket filled with weaving supplies onto the dirt floor.

Maria was stunned. She began to rummage through its contents, ignoring the stranger. To her delight, she recognized her own yarns, strings and threads. As the visitor unwrapped the scarf from around his face she glanced up. “Matthew!!!”

She rushed to his side and threw her arms around him, still
holding onto some threads. “It’s so good to see you.” His coat felt cold and wet. She drew back but stayed close to him. “I can’t believe it’s you. You scared me so. Why didn’t you answer me when I called to you?”

Matthew massaged his jaw as he spoke, “Maria, I’m sorry I frightened you…the journey here was so cold. My lips were stiff; I couldn’t speak.”

“Take off your wet things and stay for awhile.” Maria began to unbutton his coat.

He stopped her hand. “Wait. Let me bring in as many things as I can. It looks like the weather may take a turn for the worse.” He
refastened the top button of his woolen waistcoat. “I’ve brought
your things from the North Parrish and some extra items from Abigail and myself.”

Embarrassed at her impudence, Maria backed away from her oldest friend. “I apologize for my childishness. I was just happy to see you.”

Matthew let a big smile cross his face. “Don’t worry yourself.
Stand here and open the door for me when I come in; then close it
when I go out.”

Maria did as she was asked and quickly moved things around to make room for the linens and blankets, along with sacks of flour, cornmeal and oats that Matthew hauled in on his back. In her excitement, she almost tripped over a large narrow bundle that was wrapped and tied with string around both its ends. She wondered what it was but kept her interest on arranging her precious supplies.
The last items to be delivered brought tears to her eyes. They were
her spinning wheel and the parts to her loom.

As Matthew closed the door with a swing of his foot and placed the loom frame upright in the corner of the kitchen, Maria felt joy fill her heart, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

 A Snowy Night

The old house stood in disarray as the two friends sat down to simple fare: a small plate of biscuits, apple butter and warm ale. Maria kept her eyes on Matthew as he ate every last one of the bumpy, odd shaped treats she’d made. When finished, he wiped his
mouth with his sleeve in satisfaction. He looked much older to her since she had last seen him. His hair had grown longer and his body stronger.

“Maria, how’s your firewood supply? I noticed a fallen tree
outside. Would you like me to cut and stack it for you?”

“Oh, yes please Matthew, but I have no tools.”

He stood up from the table and went over to the long narrow bundle that Maria had questioned earlier. “I do believe I can help you.” Untying the strings that held the canvas tight, he continued, “I present to you one used but sharp axe and something else that I think you might need.” He unfolded further the weathered covering to reveal a long, slender and deadly musket. He placed it next to the hearth and then reached for his coat. “I’ll go out and cut some wood for you tonight. I have almost an hour or more left of daylight.”

The felled tree had been dried of its sap long ago and was ripe for making a good flame in the hearth. The popping of the newly cut wood as it burned warmed and soothed her.

As Maria looked through the supplies that Matthew had brought her, she asked, “Would you consider staying the night? The storm seems stronger now.”

Matthew brushed the snow off his boots and looked out the tiny
opening in the glass. He could see nothing but snow and darkness. “I think you’re right. I’ll sleep here by the hearth, if that is to your liking?”

“Yes,” Maria said.

“The horse needs tending. I saw a lean-to out back. He’ll be fine in there tonight. I already gave him oats.”

They sat in silence by the crackling fire while they enjoyed one last drink of warm ale. Maria was the first to rise from the table to find a blanket for Matthew. “I want to thank you for all you’ve done for me, considering the circumstances that I’ve gotten myself into.”

He stood and placed his hands on her shoulders. As he looked into her eyes, the glow of the fire softened her features, accenting her beauty even more. “Maria, I’ll always be here for you and will never put aside our friendship.” He wanted to kiss her lips, but instead he held her close.

As the two embraced, something stirred within Maria,
something she had not felt since being with Sam. It frightened and delighted her at the same time. She dropped the blanket. Her arms wrapped
around him, she felt her whole body accepting his affection and
didn’t want to leave his arms. She felt as if he could fill a deep void inside of her. Reluctantly she drew back. “Matthew, I must sleep now.” She leaned down and picked up his blanket. “Here. Stay warm tonight.”

Maria stoked the fire one last time while Matthew settled down near the hearth. “Good night,” he whispered.

“Good night, Matthew.”

Maria retired to her bed on the other side of the hearth.
Exhausted from all the excitement, she fell into a deep sleep as soon as she crawled under her new covers.

***

Matthew could not sleep. His thoughts were with Maria and what he was going to say to her. Should I tell her about my feelings for her? And what of our future together? Could there even be a future? He found no answers for his questions but felt comfort in the closeness of her presence.

***

A cry came from Maria’s room. Matthew jumped up as she
began to scream.

“No, No! I can’t do this alone. Someone help me, please!”

He hurried to the other side of the room and found Maria sitting up in bed, frantically waving her arms. Sitting next to her on the bed, he held her hands and pleaded, “Maria, wake up! You’re dreaming!” He could think of only one thing–to hold her–he pulled her against
his chest. “Maria, you’re safe with me. Calm yourself. It’s only a
dream.”

Slowly she opened her eyes. Relieved to see her dear friend she cried, “Oh Matthew, I’m so afraid. Please hold me.” She clung to him as he held her tight.

Matthew uttered a soft “Shhhh.” Then he gently laid her down on the bed. He moved close to her trembling body and brought the bedcovers over the both of them. As he pressed his body alongside hers, he stroked her hair smooth and pulled her back secure against his chest. He felt content and satisfied to hold his love for as long as the night would allow him. Tenderness prevailed over his deep
passion for her, and simple sleep finally came to them as soft
snowflakes covered the roof of the old McKeon House.

By the time Matthew was ready to leave, early next morning, the snow had stopped and sunshine sparkled across the snowy fields
and marshes. He finished splitting the last of the old tree and
readied the sleigh for his trip home.

Neither spoke very much as they ate a small meal of biscuits, both confused by their feelings for each other. Matthew was cautious of going against the law. Maria questioned her affection for Sam, and now Matthew.

“Will I see you again?” She watched him fold the canvas that had covered her things.

He came near to her and, once again, he found it difficult to
speak. “My dearest Maria, you know that I will always be here for you.” He chose his words with care. “I’ll try to come, although I’m not sure what I can do.”

Maria lowered her face. “I understand.”

He turned away, walked to the front of the sleigh, grabbed the
reins, and climbed onto the seat. He looked back once more to see
her face. Would this be the last time he’d ever see her? Matthew could not bear the thought of it. He must find a way to visit Maria again.

With a crack of leather the horse bolted away from the house and down the path. Maria watched until she could not see him anymore. As she latched the door of the old house she submitted once again to her world of isolation and loneliness.

March 1716

EASTHAM – CAPE COD

THE WINTER HAD BEEN THE SNOWIEST
anyone could
remember. Freezing temperatures had kept the snow on the ground between
snowfalls, making travel difficult and supplies scarce. This
inconvenience brought out the ill tempers among neighbors and shortened the
patience of many people. Near the end of March, patches of green
could finally be seen around the village. People ventured outdoors more and Smith’s Tavern became busy again.

No one noticed Timothy Edwards enter the tavern. The new
visitor was of average size, dressed in plain clothes, and limped on his left leg. He began asking questions among the people in the tavern. Mr. Smith heard the name ‘Maria Hallett’ float above the conversation and observed his customers shaking their heads ‘No’ to the stranger. He caught Edwards’s attention by waving his hand, gesturing for him to come closer to the sideboard.

Edwards looked over with an exasperated face. Smith signaled
him again. A lack of answers made the stranger annoyed, and he
growled at Smith, “Gimme a pint!”

“What seems to be troubling you, sir?” the tavern owner asked, ignoring his rudeness.

“I know I have the right place, but everyone I speak to acts
strangely and displays an unusual ignorance to my inquiries.”

“I might be able to help you.” Smith was curious about the
man’s interest in Maria Hallett.

“A while back, I travelled with the Bellamy-Williams crew to
find treasure off the West Indies coast. Well, it didn’t turn out the
way we all expected. The treasure was gone before we even got there.” The seaman drank half his ale in one lift of his hand. “Not wanting
to go home empty handed, most of the men went ‘on
account’…pirate, I mean. But I decided not to, me having a family in Truro and all.”

“So you say that Bellamy went ‘on account’?”

“Aye, that’s what I said. When we docked in Antigua, I told
Bellamy that I wanted nothing to do with pirates. He said that it would be right if I left, but only if I would do one favor for him.” He scratched his head. “Bellamy knew I was from Truro and this end of the land. He asked if I would get a message to someone here in Eastham.”

“Whom do you seek?” asked Smith, all the while knowing full well it was Maria.

 “She goes by the name of Maria Hallett.”

“Maria Hallett, you say?”

“Yes, that’s her.” Edwards looked at Smith with relief. “Do you know her?”

“There’s a girl who goes by that name, but no one will agree to
it.”

The stranger looked puzzled. “What’s that you mean?”

“She was accused of murder and witchcraft a while back.
Nothing was ever proven, but some people around here still wanted to see
her punished.” Smith wiped some ale from the sideboard. “They banished her to the bluffs. Poor thing never had a chance
against all these supposed God-fearing people. She’s dead to most.”

Edwards leaned closer to Smith and whispered, “Can you get a message to her?”

Smith looked around before he spoke. “I think I might be able to arrange something. What do you have?”

From the inside pocket of his waistcoat he pulled a small folded parchment, sealed in wax, and handed it to Smith. “Here.” The name
Maria Hallett
was written on the outside.

Mr. Smith took the letter and placed it in his cash box. “I will do my best to get it to her.”

Timothy Edwards felt at ease. “Thank you, sir. My duty is
done.”
He paid for his pint and walked out of the tavern, heading for his
home.

April 1716

EASTHAM – CAPE COD

THE SUN FELT PLEASANT ON MARIA’S FACE
as she brought in wood for the day. Water dripped from the roof in a steady stream that splashed onto the mud surrounding the perimeter of her solitary confinement. She had counted the days from her arrival with crude markings on a corner wall by her bed, but after Matthew’s visit, she used a piece of vellum from her special keepsake box. Winter was
near over and the smell of spring drifted through the air. She
reached for some oats to prepare her meal but found the sack almost empty. Maria wondered if people’s hearts might have softened towards her. Would it be safe to travel to the village store? Unsure of what might happen, she decided to try.