To Capture Her Heart (24 page)

Benjamin stood, running his hand through his hair much like his father. He grinned, dimples creasing deeply into his cheeks. He glanced toward John Budd and nodded. “Just that I am looking forward to my marriage to Heather Flower and I appreciate all of your support.”

The men rallied and applauded, but were they really supportive? His second eldest was getting married and he was creating a bit of a stir. Certes. Nothing wrong with that. He kind of enjoyed starting stirs. Ann would have been proud of their son and would have loved Heather Flower. She'd liked a bit of controversy as well.

April 29, 1654

Benjamin sheared the last of the sheep with Joseph and Zeke, and the three trudged down the commons to make sure they hadn't missed any. They'd be able to export half of the wool and still keep Mary, Lizzie, and Patience busy with spinning.

Lizzie was looking to make her own hats, like Mrs. Haskins in London, except she wanted to control the process in every step. She would be spinning her own wool, dying it with the precious blue that the indigo-peddler sold and with the vivid reds and yellows from shrubs and trees that grew right there in Southold. She'd had a loom shipped down from Boston. Soon she would be carding, and then weaving the wool for hats.

He was pleased Heather Flower consented to do the beadwork for Lizzie. He'd worried about blending their cultures when they wed, but she took everything in stride, like she'd been born to it. Mayhap her upbringing as a princess helped, though his mother said she doubted that.

The men gathered in the barn after they'd put the fleece in barrels to soak and washed the sweat and dirt of the day off with a bucket of water and rags.

The women had supper ready—they'd prepared a big dinner at noon for all the men involved in the shearing, and now it reappeared with a few refreshments added. Heather Flower and Winnie were visiting, and Benjamin sat with Heather Flower on his left and Hannah on his right. She wanted to sit next to Heather Flower and so they traded places. He could see who the favorite was around here.

Benjamin took the opportunity to invite the ladies for a ride in the wagon after they ate. All but Heather Flower declined, much to his delight.

Mary packed them a little sack of ginger cakes, and they wandered down to the barn. Inside the barn, Starlight softly neighed. Heather Flower stroked her muzzle as Benjamin hooked Star into the harness, and then he helped her to climb up to the wagonboard. They rode alongside the green commons, now filled with shivering sheep.

“Would you like a ginger cake?” He reached in the sack and offered one to her.

Heather Flower smiled and took the offering.
“Koekje.”

“What?”

“It is called a
koekje
.”

“Who calls it a cookie?” He grinned, for he knew, but he wanted her to say it.

She stared straight ahead. “I am sorry, Benjamin. It was Dirk. I forgot. I should not have been thoughtless.”

He reined Star in and turned her face toward his, cupping her chin in his hands. “No, it's all right. I think it's good you talk about him. I want you to be sure that we are doing the right
thing. If you can talk about him without sadness, then I think that is a good thing. Yes?”

“You are right.”

“I wanted to tell you I'm glad you'll be working with Lizzie. You enjoy beadwork and I think you'll like Lizzie.”

“I do, Benjamin. I like your aunt.”

“I meant working with her. I guess I worry that you will somehow miss being at home.”

“Winnie says God will provide, no matter where we are. No matter our path.”

He clicked the reins and they rode across the fork to the North Sea. “She is right. I think the Hortons know that better than anyone.”

They stopped at the bluff and walked down more than a hundred steps to the water's edge. “Joseph and I helped my father lay those stones. The first time we came down here we climbed through all sorts of snagging bushes. I didn't think I'd make it back to the top.”

“It's beautiful here.”

“I think so. But in a few minutes the sun will hit the water and you won't believe how beautiful that is.” He looked down at her and pulled her near. He lifted her chin with one finger. The sun's light flickered in her opal eyes, and Benjamin thought how easily he could gaze into them from now until forever. Her pouty lips were soft as he bent to kiss them and he pulled her close.

They climbed the steps back to the top of the bluff, and Heather Flower stopped to catch her breath and take a final glimpse of the moon over the water. Benjamin stepped in close and she allowed him to pull her to him. She wished tonight
would not end and yet her aunt waited to return to the fort. She was glad Aunt Winnie was feeling better and enjoying the company of her friends.

Benjamin lowered his lips to her ear. “What are you thinking about?”

She caught her breath with a little laugh. “My aunt. I should take her home. It's getting late.” She looked up to his baby-blue eyes and immediately felt regret for speaking the truth. “Benjamin, I was thinking of you, my friend, and this beautiful night, but then I remembered we left everyone back at your house. They must wonder where we are.”

He laughed softly. “You don't have to feel bad. I understand. And you're right. We need to get Winnie home. I'm driving you, of course.” He kissed her cheek and took her hand. “Come on, I'll get you both home.”

As he helped her up into the wagon, he said, “I like it when you think of your aunt. I think we should all have respect for our parents and elders. It's been a part of your and my upbringing and for that I'm thankful. See, our worlds are not so different.”

She smiled. “Do you worry our worlds are different?”

“No, not much. I think our parents worry about that much more than we do.”

They rode down Hortons Lane in silence. Heather Flower could hear the crickets singing their songs and a lonely hoot owl winging its way through the dark, even with the creak of the wagon wheels and the clop of Star's hooves on the dirt road.

The white man had made many changes to their island. Some she did not understand, but most were good, she thought. It was strange they penned up animals, but then each family had their own. They even branded them with a special mark in their ear, in case one should escape. To ride horses and hitch
them to carts and plows instead of using their own swift feet and canoes to do the work had been surprising at first, but a wonderful idea. Even with the new and different noises added to their landscape, she appreciated what the white man had brought to her people. And they gave back generously.

They pulled up in front of the Horton house, and before he could even help her down, Mary had walked out with Winnie.

Benjamin closed the gap between them in three quick strides. “Heather Flower was worried about you, Winnie. It's late. Are you all right?”

Winnie held onto Mary's arm, but brightened at Benjamin's question. “Yes, my friend. I'm very good. We heard you coming down the lane and thought it might be nice to meet you out here. It's such a nice night.”

Heather Flower could tell she was tired. “Benjamin will help you up, Aunt. We'll get you home. Would you like to sit up here on the wagonboard with us, or would you like to be down in the back?”

Benjamin took her arm. “Why don't you sit up with us? We'll keep you warm. It is a nice night, but the air is a bit cool.”

“That would be good.”

Mary stepped close and gave her a gentle hug. “I'm so glad you came back for a visit. You are looking good, Winnie.”

“You are too, Mary. And those little girls are growing so fast. I don't want to miss a minute of it.”

“I shall bring them out to visit you more, Winnie. I promise.”

They waved their goodbyes again as Benjamin clicked the reins and they started the long ride home with Winnie snuggled between them.

Heather Flower thought her aunt was falling asleep, she was so quiet. But then she stirred and couldn't quit talking.

“Let me tell you of how I met your mother, Benjamin.”

She told the whole story about how the shallop came into the bay and what it meant to her people. She told Benjamin she would never forget the palefaces as they played with the jingle shells and watched Momoweta approach in his ceremonial war paint and feathers.

Heather Flower listened, her amusement tinged with sadness. Her aunt told the story as if she'd never told it before and recounted how she was shy about approaching Mary at first, but Mary had been just as anxious to meet her as she was, and all awkwardness had dissipated quickly.

When they both discovered they had cooking and gardening skills they could teach other, the friendship was cemented forever. She laughed as she told them Mary loved to say who knew that milk from an English cow and Indian corn would taste so good together. And Winnie was as pleased to receive honey from the English bees as Mary was to receive syrup from the native maple trees.

Benjamin listened politely, thanked Winnie for her stories, and said good night. He kissed Heather Flower's hand and she walked her aunt to their wigwam. She helped her ready for bed, combing her aunt's long gray hair. “I enjoyed your stories too, Aunt Winnie.”

Her aunt patted her hand. “I'm glad you did. Mary has been my friend for so many years.”

“I know. It's comforting too, to know how well our people can dwell together. I think at times Benjamin worries about this, and it was good for him to listen to your stories.” She braided her aunt's hair. “Would you like to comb mine, Aunt Winnie?”

“Yes, my niece. I love to comb your hair.”

She turned and sat so her aunt would not have to get up, and
enjoyed the rhythm of the strokes on her hair. “Would you like to come and live with Benjamin and me after we're married?”

Winnie hesitated for just a moment, then continued to comb. “Why, no, child. I could not leave my hut. Winheytem lived here with me. I feel his closeness. You and Benjamin are so young and have so much ahead of you. You don't need me in the way.”

“You would never be in the way, Aunt Winnie. I can't bear the thought of you alone. Have you ever thought of living with Abigail and James? You could help her with Misha.”

“No, I love seeing Misha and Abigail. But I want to stay here. Don't worry for me, Heather Flower. I am where I'm happiest.” The wolf dogs settled at her feet. “I've got my pups. They remind me of Smoke and your uncle.”

She let her aunt finish her hair in silence, then she wrapped her arms about her in a hug. “I love you, Aunt Winnie. I had such a good day with you today.” She took the comb and helped Winnie to her pallet.

As she put the ivory comb on her shelf, she thought of Dirk handing it to her the first time. It was more than just providing her with a necessity. She'd thought it had been a gift from his heart, but she'd been wrong about that. If only it didn't make her feel so very sad. She crawled onto her pallet and pulled the bearskin blanket over her.

How could she have been so wrong about him? And why did she keep thinking about him?

After Aunt Winnie's breathing evened out, she got up and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. She crept out of the hut and hurried out through the palisade gate, down the path to the river. She wasn't sure why it was such a comfort. Perhaps it was because this was where he always came to find her. Was it terrible to come here? Did it mean she hoped he
would be here waiting? She listened to the ever-flowing water and the bullfrog's occasional croak.

She shivered under her blanket and looked up just in time to catch a shower of stars blazing across the night sky. It was an astral display that her people believed was a sign of travel mercies. But who was traveling? Dirk? She prayed to God that he would have the travel mercies promised in the shower of stars, if he be the traveler. She would never know, though, because traveling or not, he'd left her.

Sweet Benjamin was ever at her side, always there to pick her up when she fell—or when the world crashed in on her. She shook her head. She needed to go home, go to bed. She had people who loved her, and for that she could be thankful. She got up and padded toward the fort. She hesitated to listen one more time to the rushing water, then hurried to the gate and the wigwam.

As she curled beneath her blanket, gray light seeped in through the smoke vent and surprised her as the sun began to edge toward morning. She hadn't realized she'd been out most of the night. Her eyes seemed to close only for a moment, when suddenly she was conscious of meat sizzling in a pan, and Aunt Winnie preparing a very English breakfast of ham and chunks of bread and cheese sent home by Mary. The pups perched expectantly near the fire, intent on catching a scrap here and there.