The Shopkeeper's Widow Read online

  “We shall put our minds to it and find a way. During the meantime, you can live at Button Cove with Mrs. Fleet.”

  Joy spread through him. Of course, he could live at Button Cove. He would have to speak to his father and mother about the dispensation of the slaves and the land, but if they did it well, it could work.

  Field spent the next few days with the Morgans talking politics, riding when he could, and wrestling with ways to approach Delany. Simon had been right, of course. He’d always been fond of Delany even as she’d followed him around on the farm.

  He missed her. The longer he stayed away, the more he knew he could not go home without her. Would she accept him without his worldly possessions? Would she compromise until the land was in his power and he could set things right?

  25

  The last of Delany’s trunks were loaded onto the wagon.

  Sam, Ruben, and Freewill followed on horseback.

  Molly and the children rode in a wagon.

  It was Delany’s big day. She was finally moving into Button Cove. The Seldons had sent a note. Rain and sickness delayed them no longer. They would arrive by the end of the week. Pauline had agreed to cook until the Seldons arrived.

  To finally be in her own home once again was a welcome blessing. Delany had been too long at Sam and Molly’s. She wanted her own food and her own bed. Her own schedule. Here she could move around without bruising her heart by bumping into memories of Field at every turn.

  “Aunt Delany, can I stay here with you?” Margaret, holding onto her doll, Peg, slipped her hand into Delany’s.

  Delany remained speechless. The flames of the fireplace and the gray stretches of her life loomed.

  “Margaret, Aunt Delany has just arrived. She is not situated yet. She may not wish for company on her very first night,” Molly said.

  “Quite the contrary, Molly. I would be delighted if Margaret spent the night here with me.”

  Molly’s eyes widened. “Very well, but you must send her home the minute she gets underfoot.”

  Delany and Margaret stood hand in hand watching the wagons leave for the Fleet farm. She was home.

  Pauline stood off to the side.

  “Well, what should we have for dinner?”

  Pauline looked as surprised as Margaret at the question. “It’s late in the day, Miss Delany.”

  “Don’t worry, Pauline. I thought we could have ham and biscuits in the kitchen.”

  A blustery wind scraped some scattered leaves across the bricks.

  “Can we have cake?” Margaret nearly jumped up and down but caught herself.

  Delany grinned. “Only if Pauline has time to make one. We don’t have much of anything around here since we just moved in.”

  “Of course. I forgot that.”

  “I’ll take a look, Miss Margaret, and see if Betsy made us a cake.” Pauline grinned at the child.

  “While Pauline makes supper, I have something to show you.”

  Margaret’s face lit with excitement.

  The trunk Delany sought was placed in the extra bedroom across the hall from her own. She motioned to Margaret to kneel beside her in front of the massive chest and lifted the lid.

  “What is all this?”

  “Sometimes, in the shop, we get a particularly fine bolt of cloth, but if we don’t sell it all, I save the leftover bits.”

  Margaret audibly inhaled her enthusiasm. “What are they for?”

  “What else?” Delany stuck her hands down in the trunk and pulled up several scraps of shining cloth. “Doll clothes.”

  Margaret took the offered material with wide eyes. “Can we?”

  “Of course. Pick out what you like. There is lace and ribbon in here, too.”

  Margaret set to organizing what she found by size and color.

  Delany dug down the side to find the patterns she had stuck there. “When you’ve decided, meet me downstairs in the dining room.”

  After gathering scissors, pins, and thread, Delany headed to the dining room and the only large enough work surface in the house.

  Margaret joined her with a selection of a delicate gold silk and matching ecru lace. She had a good eye for color. It would match the coloring of her raven-haired Peg very well.

  Margaret had the sandy-brown coloring and warm brown eyes of her mother. Consequently, she always seemed to be dressed in some shade of blue. Blue suited her, but the change of gold for her Peg, who was also always dressed in blue, made Delany wonder what other changes the girl would make if given the chance.

  Margaret picked the simplest pattern of the five that Delany had available.

  “Good choice. We might even get it finished before you have to go home tomorrow.”

  They had finished cutting out the pieces when Pauline came in with a large tray of thickly sliced ham and warm biscuits.

  “That smells delicious.” Delany directed Pauline to place the tray on the empty half of the table. She retrieved three plates from the sideboard and placed them in front of three chairs.

  Delany sat at the head of the table and beckoned Margaret and Pauline to her right and left.

  Pauline stopped with hands on the back of her chair. “Do you mean for me to sit down with you, Miss Delany?”

  “Yes, of course. You are most welcome to sit with us while we eat this wonderful smelling meal you have prepared.”

  Pauline stiffly moved the chair and sat, hands in her lap, head down, on the very edge of her seat.

  Delany reached across, laying her hand flat on the table. “There are no slaves in this house, Pauline. Only servants of God.”

  “Betsy says she’s ate at the table in the big house with the master, but I never believed it, not really.”

  “I understand why you wouldn’t.” Delany blushed when her stomach growled.

  Margaret laughed.

  “I think that says it all. Let’s eat.”

  Margaret prayed for the food while they all bowed.

  Delany passed the plate of biscuits to Margaret and asked Pauline to pass the ham.

  Dinner continued in near silence as the three of them satisfied their appetites.

  Delany rose to stack the dinner plates when they were done eating.

  “I’ll carry them out, Miss Delany.”

  “It’s no trouble for us to help.”

  “If you’ll pardon me, Miss, you stay here, and I will bring back the cake.” Her broad face crinkled in a wide smile at Margaret.

  “There’s cake!” A little jump escaped Margaret that time.

  Delany and Pauline laughed.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Delany and Margaret finished cutting out the pieces and prepared to retire to the parlor. Delany lit the fire that had already been laid while Margaret brought in the little dress.

  Pauline arrived with cake, and the three shared it in the parlor in front of the fire. As Delany and Margaret commenced their sewing, Pauline excused herself to the kitchen.

  26

  Isaac’s house was larger than Delany expected. Fully as large as her own, it had a symmetrical face and a gambrel roof.

  In the parlor, Sarah enveloped her in warm hug.

  Unexpected tears clouded Delany’s vision and clogged her throat.

  Sarah held her tighter. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s a long story.” Delany stepped away and wiped her eyes. “One I didn’t plan on telling you today.” She choked on a smile.

  “Tell me anyway.” Sarah patted the settee cushion next to her.

  Delany took her seat and, once again, described her feelings for Field. “I truly thought I was safe. The infatuation of a young girl is so much fairy dust. It gets wiped away with the cloth of time.”

  “Very poetic.”

  “Yes, well I might be feeling a little dramatic. But having him here has been a very real mistake.” Delany stood to pace, worrying her hands in the process. “There was nothing else to do. I could not turn him away. I could not help but fall in love wi
th him. And I could not accept him when he offered.”

  Sarah sat quiet and still.

  “How can you just sit there?” Delany spat.

  “I am listening to you.”

  “What do I do?”

  Sarah looked at her hands and then raised her gaze to Delany. “You pray.”

  Delany tried not to roll her eyes. Surely, she could do more than that.

  “Have you asked God what you should do?” Calm and serene, Sarah went on. “I can’t help but believe that God brought him to you for a reason.”

  The look in his eyes after the visit from Craig Reid interrupted her thoughts. Field changed that day. Perhaps that was why the Lord had brought him to her. She’d allowed her foolish, worldly self to get in the way. She’d been so selfish. “Isaac wanted me to speak to you.”

  “Oh?” A conspiratorial gleam shone in Sarah’s eyes. “Just what did he want you to talk to me about?”

  “All this,” Delany gestured to Sarah’s dress. Today she wore a silk brocade gown of midnight blue with a mustard yellow petticoat. The ensemble took ten years off her friend. Delany wasn’t sorry to see the change. “You look splendid, but Isaac is worried about you. He says you are running around like a girl fresh from the schoolroom.”

  “So, he noticed, did he?” Sarah adjusted her skirts and added, “Well, it’s about time, too.”

  “Are you trying to let Isaac know that he is free to marry?”

  “No. He knows that. I want him to know that I am free to marry.”

  The light began to dawn in Delany’s mind, “So you think that he doesn’t think he has to marry because you are here to take care of the womanly things he needs done.”

  “Precisely. As long as I am here to care for Lucy and run his household for him, he’s content.”

  “Are you sure? You only came to live here a couple of weeks ago.”

  “He and his brothers have been pestering me to come live with him ever since poor Polly died.” She cast a derisive grin. “Lord Dunmore succeeded where my children failed. Well, I’m not having it.”

  “Surely, you can’t mean to coerce him.”

  “No, that wouldn’t work. And I wouldn’t do it anyway, but neither will I stay here to raise his daughter and run his household.”

  Her vehemence surprised Delany. “What brought this on, Sarah? You love Lucy.”

  Sarah’s hands fisted in her lap. “In truth, I cannot tell you. Robert was a good man. He was good to me, but he didn’t love me.”

  Delany knew what that was like.

  “You told me once that you were a rich widow who didn’t need a husband.” Sarah took Delany’s hand. “Well, I may not be rich, but I’m comfortable, and I’m not interested in anyone running my life anymore. Not Isaac; not anyone.”

  “How does finding a new husband help you? I would think the opposite.”

  “That, my dear, depends on the man.” Sarah grinned and patted Delany’s hand. “But that is neither here nor there. I will accomplish my goal when Isaac marries again.”

  There was no arguing any further. Sarah had decided, and Sarah would stay the course. Her serene friend had showed her stubborn side before. Once she dug in, one might as well try to add an inch to one’s height. It just wouldn’t happen.

  “Have you ever thought about gray areas, Delany?” Sarah switched topics.

  “Yes, in the practical application of truth sometimes there are gray areas. And some are black and white. Lies are always wrong, and so is slavery.”

  “How many slaves does he have?”

  “I’ve no idea—hundreds, maybe.”

  “Have you also figured out how he’s supposed to go about this emancipation?”

  “He would have to agree that it was the right course to take before he made such plans as that. He didn’t agree. He asked me to live here on ‘those terms.’ That’s someone who won’t change the status quo.”

  “Delany, you have to allow for growth to happen at its own pace.”

  “I’m not interested in waiting around for someone to come to his senses. I’m removing to Button Cove and will forget I ever knew Field Archer.”

  The sky had clouded over while they’d visited. One glance out of the window told Delany she’d better be on her way or get stuck in a storm. She collected Pauline and embraced her friend.

  Two miles away from Isaac’s house, Delany shivered in the newly chilled wind. Neither one of them had brought along a cloak. The day had been so fine when they’d left. A strong gust pushed them along the path. Her horse balked at the rustle of the branches and the snow of leaves released in the blow. She glanced back to see Pauline shivering in the light homespun dress she wore. She pulled off the jacket of her brown velvet riding habit and passed it to Pauline as soon as she caught up.

  “Are you sure, Miss?” Pauline asked.

  Delany nodded agreement. She still had velvet sleeves to cover her arms. Hopefully, the rain would hold off. They didn’t need to catch their death out here. Besides, she needed to do something nice for the woman. Pauline had worked beside her to turn the house into Button Cove. She would speak to Molly about it. Perhaps a couple of new dresses and a cloak for winter would be a blessing.

  They were half way home when thunder struck and a hard driving rain laced with pea-sized hail pelted them.

  Delany was thankful for the full brimmed hat wilting over her face. It didn’t help with visibility, but it did help keep the rain from directly hitting her eyes.

  They slowed to a walk.

  The last time she’d been this cold, Field wrapped her in his coat. The warmth of his body was enough for the two of them. Her withered heart made the cold worse. It would be just so good to be wrapped up in his coat right now and feel the warmth of his love for her.

  There was no sound but the thrumming rain. The trees were gray sticks blending into the dense curtain of water. As they rounded the curve in the lane, a tall, dark man stepped out into the road. At this distance, it could be Freewill or his brother, George. If it was Freewill, she would rejoice. His brother George sent rivulets of fear through her nearly frozen body.

  Freewill was a large spirited man, always able to find the good in any situation he encountered. George was a man denied. Even when she’d freed him, he could do nothing but sneer that it was “about time” before running off.

  Her rifle lay in its holster soaking wet like everything else. It wouldn’t be much use until it dried out.

  “Miss Delany,” the man called out as she approached.

  Lord keep us safe and get us home.

  “Why, George, it’s been a very long time.” She gripped the reigns tighter as they approached him. “I’m sorry we can’t stop in this storm. Pauline and I need to get home before we catch our death in this weather.”

  His head came to her shoulders. He grabbed the reins from her hands as pretty-as-you-please with no warning. It happened so fast Delany didn’t respond.

  “It’s time, Pauline,” George called out behind them.

  Pauline nodded to George.

  “Time for what, George?”

  “You’ll see. Right now, you’re coming with me. The boss wants to see you real bad.”

  George led her off the trail long enough to retrieve his own horse. He mounted all the while keeping Delany in tow. They started back down the path. She looked back at Pauline.

  The girl’s face was hard as she pointed a finger forward.

  Delany waited until they’d come around the bend. If she guessed right, she was close to Button Cove. They wouldn’t expect her to go there. She could hide there until the rain let up and then make it to Sam and Molly. Right in the middle of the turn when she’d lost sight of Pauline, she slipped out of her saddle and began to run through the woods. The thump of the key against her thigh as she ran was her only comfort.

  The footpath she’d known as a girl was easy to find. It was smarter to stay off the path, but she didn’t dare risk getting lost. The woods ended at the garden at the
back of Button Cove. Though overgrown with vines and other weeds, it didn’t provide the cover that made her comfortable. There was no sign of George or Pauline. But she couldn’t think about that until she was behind the locked door of her house. Hopefully, they would think she’d head straight to Sam and Molly’s.

  A short set of brick stairs led her up to the backyard of the house. Dependencies lined either side of the path up to the house. She was soaked to the skin. There was no one here to greet her, but there would be. Before too long, there would be. Soon there would be fires and good food and—she stopped. There wouldn’t be little chubby arms and brown eyes to greet her. Thanking God for the small number of stores she had already had delivered to the kitchen, she trudged up the stairs to her home. Her sodden dress was as heavy as a stuffed hogshead. She couldn’t wait to get it off and put on something dry.

  She opened the door and stepped inside. Silence rang in her ears. The door should not have been open. She was sure she’d locked both doors before she left. Her key still rested in her pocket. There was the extra key hanging on its hook beside the door. No matter. No doubt it was just some oversight. She locked the door and rested her head against the solid wood.

  “I’ll take the key if you don’t mind.” The fake polish of Josiah Philips’s voice echoed in the bare ballroom.

  Instant fire straightened Delany. She turned to face the intruder standing in the hallway door. “How dare you enter my house.”

  “Oh, I think you will find me very daring, Mrs. Fleet.” Waves of cold evil reached her.

  “Get out of my house now.”

  He took slow steps toward her, boots clicking with each step. “I’m not going anywhere, Delany. Do you mind if I call you that? Delany?” He reached her and rolled a tendril of her hair between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re soaking wet.”

  She jerked her head away from his hand and sidestepped.

  He grabbed the hand with the key and crushed. “Give me the key.”

  She attempted to roll her hand to free it from his grip.

  He bent it back until it would break. The key clanged to the floor. He threw her to her knees. “Now pick it up and hand it to me.”

  Lord, please help me. Delany retrieved the key and stood.