A Place in His Heart (14 page)

“I shall do that.”

“I know you tell me you are not, but I do think it highly possible you are with child, my sweet. You are much sicker than any of the rest of us, and nothing seems to help. What think you?”

Mary peered down the deck. “Where are the boys?”

“Are you avoiding my question? The boys have gone with Jeremy to the stern. 'Tis helpful their uncle has taken them under his wing, is it not? Now, to the point, are you with child?” His look held a tenderness she rarely saw.

“I pray I am. I want to make you happy, Barney. I hope I'm wrong, but I do not think I carry a babe. 'Tis been six years now and sometimes I think I shall never have one.”

“That can't be. Of course, we shall have children. In the colonies it will be important to have many, many children.”

She sighed at his words. She knew how much this meant to him. “I know you say that. And I pray daily we shall have a babe. Perhaps 'tis why I am so sick.”

He handed the gutted fish to her. Her small metal box with a sand pit inside worked well to cook the fish and boil beans, as long as the weather stayed calm. Though she could improvise a tent should it rain, Jeremy would not permit a fire in a storm with wind.

“The embers are low—what say I take a bucket down to the fo'c'sle and fetch some? The boys should be back soon.”

“Thank you, Barney.” She watched him cross the deck and disappear down the step.

Barnabas scooped the glowing coals into his bucket and climbed the stairs. He wove back and forth as the ship pitched about and, as he emerged, ran straight into Miss Terry. “My apologies, Miss Terry. I pray I did not burn you with my pail.”

“Oh, no, Mr. Horton.” A tinkle of laughter followed.

As he stepped aside for her to pass, Jeremy approached with Joseph and Benjamin.

“Heigh-ho, brother.” Jeremy's voice boomed over the waves. “Miss Terry.” He bowed to the young lady.

Joseph looked at his father, then at Miss Terry.

“Son, you remember Miss Terry? She has been to the bakeshop often with her mother.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Then say hello to her properly.”

Joseph mimicked his uncle with a bow, but his brow furrowed and a scowl threatened. “Good morrow, Miss Terry.”

Jeremy nodded to the pail of embers. “Be careful with the fire tonight, Barn. We don't have wind, but the seas are high. Cook your fish and put it out.”

“Most certainly. Mary is looking forward to the fresh catch. We won't dally with it.” There was so little she looked forward to eating, and he worried for the babe.

The ship pitched and rolled through the night. Mary lay rigid and listened to Barnabas's rhythmic breathing as she prayed for daylight. At long last, she swung her feet over the bed, glanc
ing at Jay and Ben, stretched across the end. She knew Jay had tossed about for a while, but now he slept soundly.

The wooden floor was cool on her bare feet as she padded to the table. The family Bible lay there, and she traced over the worn binding with her stiff fingers. She picked up the book, but set it back and reached for her dolly propped against the wall. Hugging it, a tear crept down her cheek. How long had she prayed for a babe? She looked toward Barney.

He did not stir.

A wave of nausea made its way up her throat. Still grasping her doll with one hand, she covered her mouth with the other and crept out of the cabin to the rail. She bent over and heaved as the side of the ship came up, rolling on a wave.

Trembling, she leaned further over the rail, still cradling the doll. Tears flowed while she waited for the next wave of nausea to pass.

“Mary, you should tell me when you are this sick.”

She jumped. “Oh, Barney.”

He pressed a handkerchief from Lizzie into her hand and slid his arms around her, as much to keep her from going over the side as to comfort her.

“You—you frightened me. I am not sure how much more of this sickness I can stand.”

“I know the waves are high and many people are sick from it, but you have not been well since we started out. You are with child, I am certain. Let me help you back inside before we are both swept overboard. You are drenched and the wet night air is certainly not good for you.”

She allowed him to lead her back to the cabin. “It hurts me more than I can say that we don't have a child.” Why was she saying this? Did it not make things worse?

“We will. And we will build a house big enough to hold a dozen more children once we are in Massachusetts. Now, pray thee, put down that doll and come to bed.” He wrapped her in her cape.

She placed the doll next to the Bible and crawled in beside him. She snuggled close.

Barney stretched out, eyes wide open.

Was he thinking of Ann? Or could he be thinking of Miss Terry? She looked so pretty on the dock the day they departed. Mary had seen her once or twice since, but they never really spoke. Miss Terry always seemed to remember something she needed below deck when a chance meeting did occur. Why was her mind leading her to all of these terrible thoughts? She prayed she was with child. She prayed Barney would love her.

The night calmed and the rhythmic rolling finally lulled Mary to a fitful sleep. Dawn arrived like a blessing and she got up to get the day underway. Barney had been up and gone from the cabin before the sun rose.

Ben squirmed and curled into the spot she'd vacated. She smiled and pulled the well-worn quilt over him. Jay appeared asleep as well, and she tucked the quilt about his shoulders. He stirred and looked up.

She smiled and pushed a lock of hair back from his forehead. “Sorry, I did not mean to wake you.”

“You didn't wake me. I've been awake for a long time, since Father got up.”

“Oh, I did not realize. You seemed to be enjoying your slumber.”

He sat up. “Nay, I was wondering where Father would be off to so early.”

“He feels a responsibility being the shipmaster's brother. We
are more fortunate than the others on the ship, you know—we have this cabin. He wants to be of help to anyone who is in need.”

“Oh.”

“'Tis something on your mind?”

“Nothing I could talk to you about—I miss Mother. She always would listen to me.”

She took a step nearer. “Jay, I'm listening. You can tell me anything.”

“I saw Father with Miss Terry. I know that must trouble you.”

“It troubles me more that you think you must inform me. Your father is a good man and he loves you and Ben. I know you miss your mother, but it hasn't been easy on your father either. He misses her very much. 'Tis quite possible Miss Terry reminds him of your mother, when she was younger.”

With that, she made her way out of the cabin. Why was she so good at making excuses for everyone but herself?

She made her way to their larder and pried the lid off. Ugh. Dried, tough beef and beans with worms. She was so tired of picking out the worms.

“You did well planning your provisions, little one. You'll do well in the New World.” Jeremy bowed.

“Oh, you startled me, but thank you, Jeremy. Speaking of the New World, I've had something on my mind about Massachusetts. I should like to establish a place where women could come and discuss the problems they encounter when we get there. I brought lemons down to the 'tween deck and 'twas a nice idea, but truly only a gesture. I should like to do something more meaningful in Massachusetts.”

“Aye.”

“I miss Lizzie greatly. She's always been a support to me and I hope to be a support to others. I should like to offer a place
where we could share our concerns and help each other. I've heard the story of Dorothy May and her unfortunate drowning. I've heard she jumped. There are other women like her that need help. We need a way to reach out to each other.”

“That is indeed a singular ambition. I can certainly make it known to all of the ladies for you.”

“Thank you. Perhaps one of the meetinghouses in Boston would allow a group of women to meet from time to time.”

“I will see what can be arranged. Now, I should go check the charts and see just how close we are. I expect to see land in a day or two.” He turned to leave, but faced her once again. “Barn did tell you we lost sight of
The Hector
after the storm?”

“Yes, yes he did. He told me this should not be a problem for us, only that we do not know if
The Hector
or the people on board are all right.” She glanced about as the ship dipped to the side.

“Aye. I'm sure Barn told you we spent days circling, hoping to find them, or at least the debris. But it would have been dangerous to continue the search. We are now overdue and we are most certainly off course at this point. Depending on the shoreline itself, we may or may not go ashore when we have it in sight.”

“I understand. I know you will make the best decision for us all. To walk on land again seems only like a dream.”

He nodded and trudged up the stairs.

She watched him disappear to the upper deck. Finally, satisfied they would have sufficient food for the remainder of the voyage, she picked at the beans. With a grimace, she plucked out the worms. There was a time in her life she would have completely recoiled. It seemed so very long ago.

She paused from her task. Why didn't she ask Jeremy what he thought of Miss Terry? Had he noticed her spending too much
time with Barney? She climbed the stairs back to the upper deck and looked skyward. No, time to forget about such things. Too many other worries.

Two days later, as the sun hovered on the western horizon, “Land ho!” broke the silence.

Barney instructed Mary to bring Jay and Ben to the main deck.

Reverend Reeves led the crowd in prayer and thanksgiving. Jeremy instructed the men to settle their children and womenfolk and report to the quarterdeck for a meeting.

Mary remained riveted at the rail. She strained to see into the distance what must be the shoreline of New England, the New World. She turned to Ben and Jay. “This is to be our new home, our new life. Are you not excited?” Most likely she sounded stronger than she felt. Did she possess what would be required to settle in this new land? She certainly would find out. Lizzie thought she was strong. She prayed she was.

Barney gathered her and his sons and led them to their cabin.

“Shall we be able to go ashore tonight, Barney?”

“Nay, my sweet. I am sure Jeremy will want women and children to stay aboard, whilst the men—or at least some of us—go ahead in the shallop and determine if this be a safe harbor. I venture he will not want us to go until the morn, and certainly we have to put the shallop together and it will require some time. I think 'twill most likely be suppertime tomorrow before everyone is brought ashore.”

“We should have a big feast. A celebration, do you not think so?”

“To be sure. This is the land of plenty. We will be feasting
tomorrow night. Now, boys, be good for Mother, and I will be back shortly with news.”

Jay watched his father as he disappeared through the door, then turned to Mary. “I hope he won't be long. It would be too bad if he were to worry you again.”