To Capture Her Heart (14 page)

February 14, 1654

A frigid dawn spread gray light beneath heavy clouds. But it was the fussy murmurs of Sarah as she tried to suck on her thumb and kicked at her blankets that woke Mary. She leaned over and scooped the babe into her arms. Dropping the shoulder of her sleeping chemise, she brought Sarah to her breast. Such a good baby. She rarely cried outright and never in an angry sort of way like Hannah and Jon had done.

Today was the anniversary of the day she and Barney were married. He was gone from the bed already, probably for two or three hours now, like every anniversary. He would have embers refreshed in the great kitchen hearth with dry logs and his morning devotions completed before baking a beautiful cake for her. And she loved him much for that.

Twenty-four years ago on this day he'd told her she would have wedding cake every year, and he'd kept his promise. Some years it was not much of a cake—and the first ten years had been childless, tense years—but once they arrived in Yennicott
they'd been blessed tenfold. Barney built the house he'd promised, and they'd filled it with babes. And each year he baked a bigger and prettier cake. She smiled at the thought of red sugar roses and candied posies.

She ran her fingers over Sarah's soft auburn hair and watched her slumber. Feeling dreamy, she closed her eyes with a prayer of thanksgiving. Hannah burst through the doorway and scrambled up next to her, and she wrapped her free arm around her little girl.

“What say you we put Sarah back in her cradle and go see what Father is doing, Hanny?”

“He's baking us a cake. He gave me some cheese and told me to come see you.”

“Oh, did he now? Well, I think we should go down and I will put a bit of porridge on for you and your brothers. Does that sound like a good idea?” She laid Sarah down, then took Hannah's hand. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Hannah's little feet padded down the stairs next to hers, and they entered the large, warm kitchen.

Barney looked up from his creation. “Good morning, my bride.”

“Good morning to you, husband.” She stretched on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “The cake is beautiful, Barney!”

He gave her a pleased nod. “Just so you know, we are having a feast today, but you will not lift a finger. Elizabeth and Patience have planned the whole meal, and Winnie and Heather Flower will be coming with their own contributions.”

“And Jay and Jane? Ben?”

“Of course. They would not miss it, to be sure.”

She smiled with satisfaction. “I love having everybody here, in this house. 'Tis more than I could have ever hoped for.” She
eyed the stacks of bread loaves, ready for their patrons. “But as far as not lifting a finger today, I think I shall have to. And I shall start with a proper breakfast for Hannah and her brothers.”

“Aye. But I will manage the cake and help Elizabeth and Patience when they arrive. Not you. Understood?” He smiled as he dabbed some flour on her nose.

Her giggle was like a young girl's. “Oh, yes! I understand, Mr. Horton.” She dipped her fingers in the pot of flour and flung a bit at his apron.

Hannah's mouth was agape, but joined in her parents' laughter.

“It's all right, my little one, it is how we play. And I can be thankful she isn't throwing the whole crock at me.”

Caleb, Joshua, and Jon came down the stairs together, and after they ate, Lizzie and Zeke arrived with Patience not far behind. Everyone set to work. Mary sat with Sarah and watched Hannah play with the dolly Aunt Lizzie had made for her. A day of leisure was unheard of in Southold, and she cherished it. How many times had she and the other women prayed for a moment's rest?

As more guests arrived, large lacy snowflakes began to drift down. Barney stood at the casement window staring. Mary slipped into his arms and he whispered, “Angels are rejoicing with us, my sweet.”

A smile wreathed her face and she clung to him for a moment. “Yes, Barney. Angel happy tears.”

He hugged her close.

A pounding brought both to the door, and James, Abbey, Misha, and Winnie entered.

Mary peered down the road. “Where is Heather Flower?”

“She will be here,” Winnie said. “James brought the wagon out to get us, but Heather Flower said she would walk.”

Mary helped her with her cape as James helped unbundle Misha.

“Come into the kitchen. 'Tis warm in there, and it smells so good.”

Before they could leave the front hall, Jay, Jane, and Ben arrived. Ben brushed the snow from his shoulders, and Jay helped Jane with her cloak. He handed it to Abbey, who collected the wraps.

Jay bent to kiss Mary on the cheek. “You are looking fine, Mother.”

She wrapped her arms around him in a hug. “Thank you.” She turned to Jane and gave her a warm hug.

Ben gave her a bear hug. He'd spent a couple of days with Jay and Jane, working on their pole barn. “You do look wonderful, Mother. Is everybody here? Are we the last to arrive?” He glanced back toward the kitchen.

Mary knew his real question. “You are the last except for Heather Flower.” The sorry in her eyes could not be helped.

He ignored her look. “But she is coming?”

“I think so. At least Winnie said she would.” She watched his face cloud and her throat constricted. “Let the others get the meal ready. Come sit with me by Sarah.”

He settled near Sarah and bent over, watching her sleep. “She's a quiet one, isn't she?”

“That she is, but who knows for how long. Let us talk.”

“You have something on your mind.” His blue eyes bore sadness, but his smile invited her to continue.

“I know you have always loved Heather Flower, Ben. I am worried for you.”

“Worried? Why worry?”

“I will give you the same advice Lizzie gave me years ago
when I met your father. I hope you listen. I didn't.” She smiled at him and shook her head. “Give her time and warmth.”

“I have, Mother. How much time am I supposed to give her when there is someone like Lieutenant Van Buren lurking in the woods?”

“Lurking in the woods? He rode right up here and had words with you last harvest.”

He rolled his eyes like Jay was prone to do. “True, but I've heard rumors that he seeks Heather Flower out.”

“Times are difficult, you know that. I worry for your safety as much as I worry for your heart. We have the Narragansett to the north and the Dutch to our west. And Heather Flower and her people right in the middle. And now the lieutenant.”

He stood and walked to the casement window. “Mother, you need not be concerned. She doesn't return my affection beyond offering her friendship. I wish it were not so.”

“But you hope, do you not, that her heart will change?”

“Yes, I do.”

She pushed herself to her feet and took his hands in hers. “I do so believe that with love we should follow our heart. But Ben, this is one time that all I see is danger. I cannot bear to think of something happening to you.”

His strong hands held hers tight. “It is the Dutch to fear, not the natives.”

Tears glistened on her lashes. “I know that Lieutenant Van Buren has a flame that burns for Heather Flower too. I heard him when he was here at harvest. Perhaps if you both gave her the time she needs—”

“If there be a problem, Mother, he is it. But do not worry on my account. I promise you, I shall guard my heart. But I will guard Heather Flower's too.”

Sarah began to whimper, and Mary lifted the babe to her shoulder. “There, my little girl. I thought you slept too long. Shall we go up and see to some dry wrappings?” She stepped close to Ben. “I know you will do the right thing. But if you need someone to talk to, I'm here. Always. I love you.”

“I know, Mother.” He kissed her forehead and then his sister's downy head.

She climbed the stairs with a heavy heart. She hadn't accomplished anything. He would fall headlong into the thick of it like she did when she was young. But there was a difference. He'd been raised to depend on the Lord and not himself. She just wished he could give Heather Flower more time to know her heart. And not feel so responsible for guarding it.

Benjamin stared down the road through the diamond-paned glass, pushed it open despite the cold, and leaned out. Heather Flower should be arriving soon. Unless she stayed behind for a reason. Mayhap she had plans to see Van Buren.

He pulled the window shut, shivered, and poked at the fire with a rod. He sat down. He'd rather not join the family just yet in the kitchen, his mind too much in turmoil. He picked up the well-worn Bible.

He paged through to the blue frayed ribbon, curious to see what his father had read that morning. His eyes fell on 2 Timothy chapter 1, verse 7: “For God hath not given to us the Spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” He grinned. A sound mind in all of this is what he needed. Love would not be a bad thing either.

A small knock on the door brought him to his feet. He strode the distance to the door in an instant and pulled it open.
“Heather Flower, come in, get warm.” With a woven blanket of many colors wrapped around her, she still looked half frozen. But beautiful with her creamy copper cheeks tinged with pink and her opal eyes bright. He pulled her near the fire.

“
Aquai
, Benjamin. How are you, my friend?” A smile played on her lips.

“I'm better now that you are here. I was worried about you. Why didn't you come in the wagon with Winnie and Abigail?”

“I like walking the paths, spending time with myself.”

“You were alone?”

“Yes.”

He stepped back and ran his hand through his hair. She looked at him as if she knew what he was thinking.

“Do you believe me?”

“Yes, I do. But are you in love with Van Buren, Heather Flower? Have you been seeing him?”

“You should not ask me such things. You promised.”

His throat tightened and he reached for her hand. “Yes, I did. I know you will not forget Keme, but I worry your heart will turn—”

He regretted what he'd almost said the moment the words began to leave his mouth.

Her eyes closed and her jaw clenched. “I am not done.”

“Done?”

“Done mourning. I hurt. I do not want to say goodbye to Keme.”

“Forgive my impatience. May I say, though, I do not want to lose you.” He studied her face for her reaction. His mother was right. She needed time. Why could he not give it to her?

She sighed. “You will never lose me, my friend.”

Joseph stepped out from the kitchen. He smiled at Heather
Flower and it broadened as he took Benjamin in. “Father wants everyone back here. Dinner is ready and Mother will be coming down soon. He wants us all present for that.”

“Right.” Benjamin offered her his arm. It comforted him that she took it warmly, pulling him close as they followed Joseph to the kitchen.

They assembled themselves around the table just in time to watch Mary enter for the feast. She had changed into her best gown, a green brocade Lizzie had sewn for her. She looked lovely, with a falling band fastened with a brooch about her neck and her gray-streaked auburn hair, pulled up into two buns, one on each side of her head.

Muffkin padded after Barnabas as he joined Mary at the front of the kitchen and wrapped her in his arms. “On this day I thee wed.”

“Yes you did, Barney. And I love you just as much today as on that day.” Her green eyes sparkled with contentment.

Lizzie shook her head, her eyes shimmered. “When I think of those days back in Mowsley, I cannot believe all we have been through.” Muffkin rubbed her side against Lizzie's skirt. She picked up the little round ball of fluff. “Oh, here, Muffy, do you want attention too?”

Barnabas chortled and patted the cat's head. “Aye, Elizabeth. It's been much. But my Mary is a feisty sort and puts up with much.” He winked at his wife. “Thank the Lord for that.” He slid his hand from her shoulder to her hand and grasped tightly. “And let us give thanks to the Lord for food, family, and friends.”