Thorns in Eden and the Everlasting Mountains (41 page)

He
looked curious. “Maddie?”

“Yes,
you remember Maddie, the woman at the plantation we passed on the way to town. You
know the one the overseer mistreated.”

“Yes,
I remember. What is it you’re thinking?”

Her
eyes brightened, for she saw he was interested. Nothing would do her better
than to help the bondwoman. 

“I
could use help with the house and with the children…I mean our children if God
should so bless us.”

“Are
those the only reasons?”

“Could
we not do for her what you did for Joab? Could we not give her a better life?”

“Yes.
If this is what you want, I’ll look into it as soon as we get back.”

* * *

Nash
had not slept well during the night. He drifted in and out, his thoughts
yanking him back awake. His mind was troubled and he thought of many things;
his father’s dismal passing in a cold prison broke his heart, and his
stepmother now left a widow, weighed upon his conscience. He’d written to her,
pleading she leave England and come to Laurel Hill. Then there was the dawning
revolution. 

He
sat in the armchair beside the fire and watched Rebecah while she slept. Her
breathing was even. Her hair flowed over her shoulders and down her linen
chemise. The necklace he gave her hung around her throat.

The
instinct to protect and guard raced through his veins. Weary, he put his hands
up to his face and rubbed his eyes. Hers fluttered open and gazed at him. 

“When
we get home, there will be apples in the orchard.”

He
dropped his hands on his lap and beheld her with longing. “You’re so
beautiful.”

“My
eyes are too large and my mouth too broad.”

“I
adore your eyes,” he told her, leaning over.  “And your mouth…Well, you know
how much I enjoy kissing it.”  He brushed his lips over hers.

“I’m
glad,” Rebecah sighed. She ran her fingers through his hair. 

“War
will come. Hard times are ahead.”

“I
know.”

“I
must do my duty.”

She
lowered her eyes. “I know that too.”

“The
thought of being separated from you…”

She
touched his cheek and hushed him. “You’re the bravest man I know. Just promise
me, when you go, you will come back to me.” 

She
threw her arms around his neck. He drew her close, and they kissed over and over,
and decided to forgo breakfast.

Beneath a vivid blue sky, people were filling the street. Nash and Rebecah
stepped out of the inn hoping to make it to the Postmaster’s before their coach
arrived. A boy had gone ahead of them fifteen minutes before with their bags.

A
cart, drawn by two white oxen came to a halt and the driver could not move the
animals on due to the crowd. Unable to go out they turned back inside with
startled faces.

Nash
stopped a man nearing the inn’s door. “Excuse me, sir, but why is the street so
crowded today?”

The
man pressed his lips hard. “
The Peggy Stewart
, that’s why. It’s brought
a cargo full of tea. I hope it sinks to the bottom of the bay.” 

The
man poked his head inside the inn and repeated the words with a shout. Everywhere
men rose to their feet and headed out the door. 

Nash
put his arm around his wife and kept her from being pushed by the mob. Once
safe, they headed toward the Postmaster’s. But as they turned a corner, they
were drawn into the crowd, and it became difficult to stay together as they
were pushed and pulled along. Had the whole town gone mad? Nash held Rebecah’s hand.
He felt her fingers slip away from his. He turned back and looked across the
people.

“Rebecah!” 

The
noise drowned his words to a whisper. Turning in a full circle, Rebecah stretched
her hands out to him. With his body, he shielded her against the press. She
turned into his arms.

The
crowd parted for the Committee to pass through. As expected some men’s faces
were scarlet with anger, while a few beckoned with their hands for the people
to calm themselves.

“The
matter will be dealt with in accordance with the law. Be calm, gentlemen.”

“Remember
Boston!  Don’t fail Boston!”

The
crowd followed the Committee to Stewart’s house. A curtain moved in a lower
window and someone demanded that Stewart come outside. 

The
Committee advanced to the door and a man hammered upon it with his fist. A
moment and it opened.

Stewart
pleaded with the people to be kind and reasonable. His wife was sick, and the
riot outside their house would inflame her illness. He feared violence could be
done to his family, and so he swore to do whatever the people asked of him.

“You
swore by signing the agreement you would abide by our boycott,” a man in leather
breeches shouted. “You’ve breached that vow!”

“Yes,
you’ve broken the law, you Tory rogue!”

“No
Tory am I,” cried Stewart.

“Then
burn your ship or be hanged in front of your door.”

In
the faces of these threats, Stewart stepped forward. Rebecah buried her face
against Nash’s coat when she heard the threat made Stewart’s life.

“They
cannot hang him, Jack,” she said.  “Can they?”

“In
cases like this, men lose their heads, Rebecah. The whole town is against him. He
has broken the law and shown disloyalty.”

With
her beside him, he plodded his way to a steppingstone. He pulled Rebecah up
next to him. It was clear by the look on Stewart’s face he repented of his
deed.

“Burn
your ship, Stewart,” someone shouted. “Burn
The
Peggy Stewart
and
all the tea with her!”

With
no other way out, and to spare his family, Stewart agreed and offered a public
apology. He begged to be allowed to land the remaining cargo. A few levelheaded
citizens agreed, but the mob leaders shouted loudest.

“Run
the
Peg
aground then,” Stewart ordered, “and she shall be set afire.” 

By
the strain in his face, his heart was breaking for his beautiful vessel.
Stewart torched his ship along jointly with his co-owners. The flames spread
upon the decks and twisted like blazing vines up the rigging and masts. The
sails caught, cinders floated like black snow through the breeze.

The
Peggy Stewart
burned in a cloud of pitchy vapor. Smoke poured out of every
crack and opening, black serpents amid spouts of orange flame.

Nash held Rebecah
close, and lifting her in his arms, he carried her through the crowd. Soon they
boarded their coach and rode out of Annapolis a little shaken by the event they
beheld, out to the high road leading westward toward the everlasting mountains.

Winter, 1774

Out
in the frontier the fields turned golden-brown. The season arrived with thick
slate skies, the air brisk and breezy. Flocks of crows speckled the bare trees.
Geese flew south and mallards found refuge in the grassy banks of creeks and
rivers.

Rebecah
placed a fork on the table beside a pewter plate and thought how they would
explain things to Adele if word came from Heinz the children were to come to
him. Weeks had gone by, and she hoped he had decided to allow them to remain at
Laurel Hill.

But
what if this was a forlorn hope? It would break her heart to lose them. They
had already suffered the loss of their parents.

How
can he believe it best to add to their loss by taking them away from us?

Being
sent to a man Adele did not know, to a gloomy house, and then to a school for
girls, would be a frightening prospect for one so young. And Gus, being only
two, would not understand. How would Heinz care for him, love him? Hire a
nursemaid to keep him quiet in an upstairs room until he was old enough to send
away?

Don’t
let him take them from us, Lord.

Slamming
a spoon on the table, Rebecah questioned why Karien and Gustav had to die—why
in such a horrible way. Why did the children come to her and Jack, to love and
care for, only to have them taken away?

Why,
God? I need an answer.

She
heard a coach pull up outside. She drew aside the curtain and watched it halt. A
stout woman stepped out dressed in a heavy wool cloak and white cap.

Rebecah
dropped the curtain and headed to the door, hearing her husband’s deliberate
footsteps climbing the steps. She knew then whoever this person was, Jack was
not happy she had arrived.

She’s
come for the children.

She
went to the children and gathered them into her arms. Holding them tight, she
whispered to them how much she loved them. “I always will.”

 “Joab!”
Nash stormed inside. The door slammed against the wall. Behind him stood the
woman.

Joab
rushed into the room.

“Joab,”
said Nash softer. “Bring this woman a mug of warm cider.”

“Patterson
is my name,” she said with a proud lift of her double chin. “Never mind the
cider. I must be on my way. My employer’s instructions, you see.”

She
handed him a letter and he broke open the zeal. Dreading its contents, Rebecah
watched him. His jaw tightened, and in his eyes, she saw the disappointment rise.
Then he handed it to her.

Dear
Mr. and Mrs. Nash,

I’ve
spoken with my priest, and he has counseled me in what I believe to be the most
honorable path in which I should take on behalf of my sister’s children. My heart
and mind have been convicted. I mean to take the children to the homeland of
their parents. My intention is to quit the Colonies and return home where I am
the most prosperous. I have a large house outside of Hamburg in the country.

My
family connections have the highest of reputations. It is important the
children be with me, their uncle, their grandparents and other relations who
have never seen them. I can assure you they shall be well provided for and
loved, and I shall employ a governess for Adele and a nurse for Gustav.

You
have my thanks for the care you have provided my niece and nephew. I shall in
the future write so you may know how well they are.

Your
Servant,

Heinz

Patterson
arched one brow and fixed her eyes on Adele and Gus. She dismissed Rebecah
completely.

“These
are the children?”

Adele
hid her face. Rebecah kept her close. “You will be gentle with them, madam.”

“Of
course I will. You are Mrs. Nash, I presume.”

“Yes.”
Rebecah stood, but kept the children at her side.

“We have a
visitor, children. Say hello to Mrs. Patterson.” She knelt in front of them.

Peeking up at Patterson, Adele frowned. “I don’t want to.”

“Mrs.
Patterson has been sent by your uncle.” 

Patterson
stepped forward. Her shadow fell over Gus and he began to whimper.

“They
don’t need to acknowledge me, Mrs. Nash. I hope you prepared them to leave.”

“We
did not know you would be coming for them. Mr. Heinz promised to send us word
first.”

Patterson
leaned down. “Little girl, you and your brother will have fine clothes, new
toys and books, and you will go to school. I also have sweets inside the coach
for our journey. Now you’d like that surely.”

“I
don’t want to go. I want to stay here.”

“Perhaps
you can visit sometime.”

“I
want my mama.”

Rebecah
embraced her. “Your mama is in Heaven, dear.” 

“Oh,”
Adele stammered. She pressed her lips into a pout.  “Must we go?”

“For
now, my darling.”

“Can
we come back?”

“Captain
Nash and I will always welcome you and Gus. Someday you can visit us.”

The
coachman knocked at the door. Rebecah fought back tears.

“We
mustn’t forget your new doll, Adele. She shall have a wonderful time riding in
a coach. There will be so much to see.”

“Like
what?”

“Oh,
deer and foxes. Come, let’s go pack.”

She
took Rebecah’s hand.

Upstairs
Adele picked up her doll from off the bed; her slim arms, white and soft as
lilies, went around Rebecah’s neck. She wept and Rebecah drew her close. 

“I
don’t want you and Gus to go, Adele. You know that don’t you?” 

Adele
nodded. 

“Your
uncle is you guardian. He is in charge now, and it would be right to obey him.”

“Why
is he my guardian?”

“Because
he is your mama’s brother.”

“I
want Mama and Papa.”

“I
know.” Rebecah brought Adele forward and brushed away her tears.  “I’m an orphan
just like you and Gus. I was frightened too. But it turned out alright.”

She
felt a shadow fall behind her and turned to see Nash in the doorway with Gus in
his arms. “Patterson wants to leave.”

Outside
clouds were building to the north and Rebecah feared it would rain. The roads
would get muddy. The coachman turned up his collar against the wind and wound
tighter the reins to steady the horses. Nash squatted down to Adele. She threw
her arms around him, squeezed hard, and rubbed her cheek against his. Patterson
tried to pull her away. Adele struggled. She broke free and rushed to Rebecah.

“Come,
child.” Patterson huffed and looked discouraged by the Adele’s aversion. “The
day wears on. Mrs. Nash, do something!”

Joab
shoved his hands in his pockets.  “Lord. Lord.”

Adele
weakened under Nash’s touch. He picked her up and carried her to the coach. Patterson
opened the door and he put her inside next to Gus.

He
turned to Patterson. “You must take good care the children while on the
journey.”

“I’m
a nursemaid. I know what to do.” 

“You
must keep them warm, keep their shoes dry, and see to it they are well fed.”