To Capture Her Heart (28 page)

May 10, 1654

Heather Flower stayed up almost all night talking with her aunt. She told Winnie how she had given her life to God and how Benjamin told her the angels were singing hallelujah. Winnie was cold sitting by the fire, even though it was late spring, and she'd gotten her aunt a heavy linsey-woolsey blanket to wrap about her shoulders.

Winnie's two wolf dogs curled at her feet, one with its paws and nose resting on her ankles, the other's body snuggled as close to her side as he could manage.

“I have such a happy heart for you, my niece. I have prayed for you for many years. God is faithful.” She shivered as she said it.

“Are you feeling all right, Aunt?”

“With that news I feel very blessed. Now tell me about you and Benjamin. And are you happy with your wedding dress? Are you certain you want to wear an English dress for your wedding?”

Heather Flower smiled. “So many questions. But they are music to my ears. I am so glad to see you with interest in life again.” She hugged her.

“My child. Always know how much I love you. I have many children, but I have always considered you as one of them. And you have come to take care of me.”

Heather Flower wasn't certain why, but she found what her aunt was telling her unsettling, so she just answered her questions. “I love the English dress. It will be a beautiful wedding. And Benjamin is happy. I am too.”

With that Winnie closed her eyes, a smile on her face despite her shivers.

Heather Flower got up and brought her sleeping pallet to her. “Here, stay by the fire and be warm.” She helped her onto it and then she lay next to her, warming her. She lay awake until the sun's first rays shot into the morning, watching her aunt until her heavy eyes closed and she slept hard.

Heather Flower woke to Winnie's raspy breath. She put her hand on her forehead—it burned with fever. She got up and ran out of the hut straight to the medicine man's wigwam. He followed her to Winnie's hut, and then she was off to find the messenger boy. She sent him to run into Southold and tell Mary her aunt was sick. She promised the runner wampum if he could return quickly. Mary would fetch Abigail and Doctor Smith.

She returned to the wigwam. Winnie lay still with her eyes closed. Her breathing remained ragged. The medicine man chanted and had charms and potions. She got down on her knees like Benjamin taught her and began to pray. Her aunt was too young to die and had much to live for. She wanted her there at the wedding. She prayed that she would get well.

She stayed on her knees until they ached, then she got up and paced, but she did not quit praying. At long last the runner came back and told her that Mary would be coming. She would tell the people who needed to know and then she would be coming
in the wagon. She thanked the young boy very much, gave him the wampum, and then prayed some more. She prayed without ceasing until finally she heard the wagon.

She ran outside and Benjamin was already helping Mary and Abigail down. He turned to her and wrapped his arms around her. “How is she?”

“She is dying, I'm afraid.”

“The doctor is on his way. I thought he'd get here first. I've been praying for her and you.”

“Oh, Benjamin, I have prayed too.”

Mary came over and gave her a hug and Abigail ran inside.

“We must go with Abigail.” Heather Flower took Mary's hand to bring her in.

The inside of the hut was smoky and dark. The sad wolf dogs kept vigilance at Winnie's feet. Mary rubbed their ears before she embraced her sick friend.

Abigail sat on the floor and cradled her mother's head in her lap, running her fingers across her cheek. The medicine man continued his chants.

A “heigh-ho” at the door brought Barnabas into the hut. Mary looked at Barnabas with a questioning look. “Jane is with Sarah and Hannah. I came as soon as I could. Doctor Smith was coming, but then good Mrs. Haines began to give birth. He will come when he can.”

Heather Flower looked at Benjamin. She was frightened, but she needed to keep herself under control. Especially for Abigail. She watched as he walked over and knelt next to Winnie.

Benjamin felt her forehead and looked at the fire, then her blankets. He looked up at the medicine man and Barnabas.
“Father, I need to try to save her. All of this will not.” Without another word he scooped her up, blanket and all, and rushed out of the hut, down to the bay.

Though it was already May, the water was cold. He stomped out into the waves until he could lower her into the icy water and immersed her. He brought her up and she gasped. He brought her down one more time, and when she came up, she opened her eyes and put a weak arm around his neck, hugging with what little strength she had.

He held her to him and walked back up on the shore. His parents, Heather Flower, Abigail, and the medicine man all waited there with horrified looks on their faces that quickly turned to joy when they saw Winnie awake.

They followed him into the hut and he directed them to leave the bearskin cover open on the doorway. He had Heather Flower move her pallet away from the fire and he laid Winnie down. She clung to his hand.

When she spoke, her voice sounded very old and tired. “Benjamin, I remember so clearly the day a little boy showed up at my door so frightened his brother would die and the woman who was to be his mother might never come back.” She took a shallow breath. “You were at death's door. You burned with fever and could barely breathe. Your father was panicked. He could not bear to lose you. We sent the medicine man and he put the same icy cloths on your body Mary had prepared to use. The ones your father feared would be the death of you.”

“Joseph has told me that story many times, and I was remembering it too. We didn't have snow today, but the water was cold and your fever is gone. You will get well, my friend.”

Her smile lit her face and she squeezed his hand. “You did
well. But I fear I am being called home. Do not cry for me. I'm going to a good place, my heavenly home.”

Abigail sobbed and Heather Flower held her. “Hush, cousin, your mother still needs you.”

Winnie released Benjamin and reached for Abigail and Heather Flower. They both sat beside her. “You must gather all of my children. I need them here with me as I go.”

Abigail held her tears. “Is there something I can get you, Mother? Some water? Something to eat?”

“You may get me dry clothes, my child, and we will have everyone leave while I change into my finest dress.” She laughed and everyone laughed with her.

Benjamin nodded to his father and they all left Abigail to do her mother's bidding.

Outside Barnabas stopped him. “You were brave to do that. Thank you.”

“What the medicine man was doing wasn't saving her. I couldn't help think of how that snow saved my life.” He turned to Heather Flower. “I'm sorry she thinks she is still dying. My fear is she may be right.”

Heather Flower looked at him with sad eyes. “The dying usually know.”

Barnabas took her hand. “The Lord knows every hour of our life. If it is her time to meet her Lord, she will be there. We will miss her, but we must not be sad for her. We can rejoice.” He hugged Mary, and she finally spoke.

“I am losing my first friend on Long Island and it will never be the same.” Mary's tears came fast. “I promise you, Barney, I shall be happy for her. But right now I am sad for me.”

Heather Flower was glad to see the days linger for Winnie. Her family gathered around her. All six children, her friends from Southold, and Wuchi and Wyandanch came to sit with her and talk. Sometimes she would smile and look up as if she saw someone waiting for her. But then she would focus back on the present and seemed happy to be with her family and friends.

She took little drink and even less food. Heather Flower sang to her and often Abigail came to sit and sing too. Mary came out when she could and always brought her crisp little ginger cakes or pippin tarts to tempt her to eat something. On her last day, Patience had come out with Mary and it seemed to Heather Flower that with all of her friends gathered, Winnie was ready to say goodbye.

Heather Flower was not ready, though. She wanted her aunt at her wedding. She prayed daily that it would happen, and she even daydreamed about ways she and Benjamin could marry sooner. But that was not to be. That morning Winnie told her that God always answers prayer, but not always in the way we want.

When Winnie settled into Abigail's arms late that afternoon, she looked at Heather Flower and smiled. “I see you will be happy with your new husband, my child. That is all I need to see.” She closed her eyes and looked like she slept. It was that peaceful when Winnie met her Maker.

May 18, 1654

Rain soaked the earth the day Winnie was buried, and Mary said the angels agreed with her that this was a sad day indeed. But Heather Flower comforted her by telling her, yes, the angels cried for them on earth, but they were singing hallelujahs up above.

The funeral procession braved the storm up to the bluff. Winnie already was in her grave, next to her beloved Winheytem, both facing west toward the setting sun. Before she was covered, Heather Flower draped the solid deep purple wampum across her aunt's body and said goodbye. Benjamin walked back with her to the wigwam, and Mary, Patience, Jane, and Lizzie busied themselves setting out pots and platters of food.

It was not a cold day, but the mourners crowded in, hugging their wet arms to their bodies, and Benjamin revived the fire in the pit with a new log. It wasn't that long ago they were all here for Winheytem's funeral; the only people missing were Johnny and Joseph. Barnabas once again offered seats of honor
to Momoweta, Wuchi, and Wyandanch, and as before they talked of their daughter coming home, but this time to prepare for the wedding.

How could she think about a happy time when she was missing Aunt so very much?

Benjamin sat next to her. “It's hard, isn't it? Mayhap you should stay here until the wedding.”

She looked around the hut and the wolf dogs came to her and sought her attention, nuzzling her with six black noses. She gathered them close. It struck her that she was always mourning, and her aunt would not like that. “Benjamin, you are right. I need to be here, not to mourn my aunt—she would not want that—but to celebrate her life. And to think on our wedding. That is what she would want for me.”

He smiled deeply. “Well, I know I like that idea.”

A pearl of a tear formed in the corner of Wuchi's eye as she told her parents her decision, but Wyandanch accepted what she said to them and allowed her to remain. Wyancombone would come often in the next several days, and he would bring their parents on the day of the wedding.

To the rhythm of the rainfall, they sat around the fire and Wyandanch presented Abigail with a wampum belt Winnie had stitched herself and told a cherished story about her mother to be passed down to Misha and future generations.

Heather Flower walked out to the wagon with Benjamin as the Hortons said their goodbyes. The persistent rain was now but a drizzle. He told her he would come back out on the morrow.

“I will wait for you, my friend,” she said.

Little Sarah slept in Mary's arms, and Mary gave Heather Flower an awkward hug and patted her hand. “I will have Ben
bring you in for dress fittings, and you are welcome to come in to see us as often as you can.”

Patience leaned in to hug her too. “You can stay with me, if you like. I would love that.”

“We will be waiting for the supplies for the Hatterie, Heather Flower, so we can turn our thoughts completely to your wedding.” A teary-eyed Lizzie hugged her tight.

Before Benjamin left, she hugged him and he pulled her into a long kiss. Finally she pulled back “They were precious days with my aunt that you gave to me and Abigail, my friend, and I thank you for that.”

She stood in the rain waving until the last wagon disappeared out of the palisade. She walked inside and settled next to the fire in between her mother and Abigail, with James holding a sleeping Misha, and her father and Wyancombone opposite from them. All of Winnie's children remained, and they continued to talk of Winnie's life far into the night until they fell into slumber.

Heather Flower said her prayers before she drifted off to sleep. She thanked God for her aunt, for the wisdom and example she left as her legacy.