Honor (23 page)

Down the road and around a bend of trees, Samuel gazed with satisfaction at their new home: the two-room cabin, the roomy detached kitchen, and the large barn. The long delay had finally ended, and he could start his business, do things his own way. Samuel glanced around him, suddenly missing his mother, an intense, gripping feeling of loss.

He’d always imagined arriving here with Mother, his brother, and his brother’s family. Now there was only him
and Eli. But that was foolish. He had Honor, Royale, the cook, and Judah along to help. Still, he wished his mother could have lived to see this day, be here. And he still didn’t know how to reconcile his wife to their new life outside the city. Would she hold this move against him?

Honor halted the team outside the cabin door. Samuel got down and waved for Judah to help him unload the wagon. He turned back to assist Honor. She stared at him for a moment, and he recalled her hesitation before boarding the steamboat. He searched her face for any sign she cared for him, trusted him.

Without showing any, she accepted his help. On the ground, she paused, gazing around her. Again he was hit by the fact that he’d brought a Maryland lady to live in a cabin in the wilderness.

“Samuel, please will thee and Judah bring the trunks and boxes inside? Then the kitchen boxes to that building so we can be working while thee two set up thy workshop.”

He nodded.

His wife marched toward the two-room log cabin and opened the door. The day before, Samuel and Judah had driven out with the new furniture, swept the buildings clear of cobwebs and dust, and cleaned the windows.

Over the past weeks, Samuel had insisted on paying Judah for protecting Royale whenever they had to leave her alone at the inn. And when the man had offered to help him set up his glassworks and new home, Samuel had promised to pay him for that as well. Judah had begun to learn signs too, so Samuel could work with him. It was good to have a man along.

That idea startled Samuel. He couldn’t recall any men except for his father and brother whom he’d wanted working beside him. But Judah was quiet and efficient. Samuel realized with surprise that he liked Judah. This prompted another thought that caused him to hurry after Honor. He caught her elbow.

She turned, a question on her face.

“Do you think Judah would work for us?”

“As a handyman?” she asked.

“No.” He thought of laboring alone in his glassworks. “He could work as my apprentice. I will need help in the shop.”

A smile lit Honor’s face. “An excellent idea. Shall I ask him?”

Samuel nodded. “We’ll make a room for him in the barn for now—if he wants the job.”

Honor turned and waved to Judah. She offered him the job, then signed his reply: “I don’t know if I can be a glassblower, but I will do my best, sir.” Judah was beaming, shaking Samuel’s hand, and thanking him.

Samuel felt a sudden joy. He’d always thought he’d prefer to work on his own. But now he realized not only that he was unable to do his best work alone but also that he didn’t want to.

Pondering this new development, Honor directed Royale and Perlie as the three began unpacking the household items. They would start in the main cabin and help Perlie set up the kitchen next, which would also be the living quarters for her and Royale.

Samuel’s job offer for Judah cheered Honor more and more, and she noticed it put a smile on Royale’s face too. Honor drew in the clean, pine-scented air. She sent a prayer, thanking God for bringing them out of the city yet not too far. She had Royale and Perlie for company, after all, and Royale would be well protected with two men at hand.

The only thing that didn’t please Honor was that Royale, Perlie, and Judah had insisted that they eat in the kitchen, separate from the Cathwells. They feared the potential backlash from those who lived nearby. Blacks and whites did not sit at the same table, and Royale and Perlie were paid as servants. Certainly the neighbor’s comment today about their servants keeping to themselves proved that Royale had been right.

Yet Honor would make this place home. And perhaps here she and Samuel could become a true husband and wife. The last thought wavered inside her. All they’d gone through had shown her that Samuel was a man of character, in spite of his faults. Misunderstandings and disagreements stood between them, but as she considered his honest and kind nature, a new tenderness drew her to him.

At sunset Samuel gazed around their cabin—now filled with their possessions, even the clock from his mother’s kitchen—and knelt to bank the fire low for the night. Eli had insisted upon sleeping with Royale in the large bed at the rear of the kitchen instead of his pallet in the loft above their room. That left Samuel and his wife alone for the
first time since their wedding almost two months ago. He didn’t know where to look because everywhere he glanced, he saw his wife.

His mind went over every time she had reached for him during the past weeks. She had sought comfort from him when Royale and Eli were missing and again at the trial. And she always let others know his deafness didn’t make him less than other men. She included him in every conversation. All of this was encouraging, but would she welcome his advances?

In her nightdress already, Honor was blowing out the extra candles. He followed her every move with his gaze, unable to look away. Then she carried one taper into their bedroom. He finished with the fire and rose, dusting off his hands. The faint glow from the candle drew him toward the bedroom. Along with the fact that his wife was waiting for him in a soft, white flannel gown.

When Samuel entered the bedroom, he found his wife sitting up in bed, reading her Bible. His mouth went dry. In the shadows he shed his day clothing, hanging each piece carefully on the pegs by the door. His heart was thumping in an odd gait. He pulled on his nightshirt and slipped into the far side of the bed. His wife’s gaze never left the page she was reading.

Then he noticed that the Bible trembled ever so slightly in her hand. Did she fear him? He wanted to tell her he would never hurt her. He tried to tally his feelings for her. Did he love her?
I need her.
That, of course, was not the same, not enough to justify taking her into his arms. Or was it?

She closed her Bible and turned to him. “Good night, Samuel.”

He responded in kind. Honor blew out the candle and slid farther under the covers. His heart began thumping harder and more unevenly. He could not make himself move closer to her.
She can’t want me.

Then he felt Honor take his hand. He imagined folding her into his embrace, kissing her. But the fear of her rejection held him in place. He pictured her pulling away and how that would cut into him. He could barely breathe.
She must make the first move.

NOVEMBER 9, 1819

After a long, sleepless night, Honor sat at the breakfast table. Their first night alone as man and wife had been an agony of indecision and rejection. She could barely look at Samuel. What did she know about the secrets of the marriage bed? She was the wife. The man must act first, not the woman.

“Hello the house!” An unfamiliar man’s voice called the greeting outside their door.

Honor rose from the table, signing to Samuel that they had visitors. Stepping outside with Samuel and Eli behind her, she saw that a wagon filled with strangers—a man, a woman, and six children—had arrived at her door. What did they want? “How may I help thee?”

Her question seemed to make the man and woman mute.

“May I help thee?” she repeated.

“You’re Quaker,” said the man, who looked to be in his thirties.

“I am.” Honor waited.

“Is your husband the glassblower that’s deaf?” the man asked, taking off his hat politely. “The one whose nephew got kidnapped?”

Honor sensed something wrong. The woman, her face hidden by a ragged poke bonnet, sat with her head bowed, and the children stared at Honor. “Yes, he is.”

“Is that him?” the man asked, staring at Samuel. “He looks normal.”

“He
is
normal,” Honor snapped. “He just can’t hear due to a childhood fever.”

“I see,” the man said, setting his battered hat on the wagon brake.

This blunt man strained her politeness. Why were they here? Honor wished they would get to the point. But one couldn’t demand people to state their business or leave.

“When his nephew was kidnapped and all, we read stories in the paper about him and his being a glassblower and how he talks with his hands.” The stranger watched as Honor signed this to Samuel. Honor knew that Sinclair Hewitt had written articles about them during the kidnapping and trial.

The man motioned toward the woman beside him. “See how she does that with her fingers?” he said. “It’s clever.” Then he turned back to Honor. “I just married this widow, and together we’ll have five children, my three daughters and her two sons.”

Honor looked and saw that there were six children, all
who looked to be twelve years and under. So why had the man said they had five children together?

“My son,” the woman said in a low voice, not looking up, “also suffered a severe fever early this year. It took his hearing as well. And robbed me of my husband, too.” The woman pressed a hand over her mouth.

Struck with sympathy, Honor signed this to Samuel and said aloud, “Oh, I’m so sorry.” The woman looked as if she was about to begin weeping. Honor thought she might know why they had come. “Did thee want to learn sign language?”

“No, we want to give her son to you,” the man said. “I’ll keep her other sons. They can hear. But I don’t want a deaf kid. I told her I’d marry her, but I won’t take the boy.”

Honor could hardly believe what she was hearing. She swallowed twice before she could speak. “I beg thy pardon. Thee won’t take her deaf son?”

“No, it’s not safe to have a kid around that can’t hear,” the man said. “Besides, people will think he’s strange, that we got bad blood. And we’re on our way farther west. I’m looking for land in Illinois. I hear the soil’s better there, and no trees to clear before plowing.”

The widow was wringing her hands and weeping silently. She muttered, “I don’t want to leave him, but what can I do? I had to marry again. I have myself and two other children to think of. We have nothing.” She turned, revealing the suffering in her face, which implored Honor’s understanding.