Beyond the Valley, page 18
Crushed by her sorrow, Sarah hugged her knees and waited for the steam to spew from the spout and wake her out of her misery. By the time she returned to Eliza’s room with the hot water, and the basket in the crook of her arm, the babe had started to crown. One push and she came whimpering into the world, black-haired and pink-skinned. Sarah could not remove her gaze from the newborn child. Ilene, as she would be called, quieted when Fiona wrapped her tight in a blanket and held her out to Sarah, whose heart had been instantly stolen.
“You must take her now, Sarah,” said Eliza, her chest heaving.
Sarah drew near the bedside cradling Ilene. “Don’t you want to hold her?”
“I cannot.” Eliza turned her head away. “If you do not take her now, I should want her. It is better this way.”
Fiona stepped up to stand beside Sarah. “Eliza is right.”
Sad for Eliza, Sarah stepped out of the room into the darkened hallway. Darcy stood against the wall with a bewildered look on her face. She stared up at Sarah with a flood of questions in her eyes. And wanting her to see the baby, Sarah leaned down to show her.
“Is she not beautiful, Darcy?”
“Oh,” Darcy breathed, touching the baby’s cheek with the tip of her forefinger.
Ilene began to cry, and Sarah went down the staircase to the kitchen, fetched a tankard of milk, and headed back to the cabin. That night, she sat beside Ilene’s cradle watching her, and when she stirred, Sarah lifted her into her arms and held her close.
“You are a gift from God, little one, sent to fill a void in my soul and soothe my heartbreak. My prayer for you is that others will know it as I do now.”
Unsure when Reverend Hopewell could baptize Ilene, and fearing the social stigma that would follow, Sarah dipped her finger into a dish of tepid water and blessed the baby girl on the forehead.
27
1782
The day Hayward Morgan returned home, Sarah had just finished hanging the morning wash and now stood at the end of the porch, her bare feet in the cool grass. With anxiety building, she watched him ride his horse toward the house along the soft sandy lane. Darcy and Ilene played on the lawn, on a tattered quilt, and she lifted the two-year-old Ilene to her hip.
Glancing at Eliza, Sarah read the excitement in her movements, but fear flickered in her eyes. “Do not worry, mistress. He will think of nothing else but you. Look how quickly he is coming.”
“I am happy. It has been so long since I had his arms around me,” Eliza said. “But yet, my heart is aching, Sarah. God give me strength.”
Sarah placed her hand on Ilene’s back, and wondered how long Eliza’s secret could be withheld from Hayward. What kind of man would he prove to be? Compassionate? Forgiving? Would he love Ilene if he found out the truth, or would he be harsh and uncompromising?
Ilene whimpered and turned her eyes away from the stranger. Sarah held her closer, felt the warmth of her cheek pressing against her neck. “It is alright, Ilene,” she whispered. “I will protect you, my darling.”
At all costs.
Ilene was her child, and the love she felt for her rose—no one would harm her girl or take her away from her. Only a mother could feel this strongly. For two years, Sarah cared for Ilene in the quaint cabin. Through times of sickness she prayed and worried over her. In times of want she gave to Ilene before herself. She showed her the kind of affection and love only a mother could. She would sacrifice her own life for this beautiful brown-haired child, and if Hayward ever knew the truth, she would beg to be allowed to remain with her.
“Mama.” Ilene put her little hand over Sarah’s cheek. And when Sarah saw the pain the word brought into Eliza’s eyes when she heard it, she turned aside.
Sunlight crossed Hayward’s broad shoulders and touched his handsome face as he brought his horse to a halt. A strand of his dark hair hung over his forehead and he smiled with his eyes riveted upon Eliza. Throwing off his hat, he dismounted and hurried to her. He was not at all what Sarah had imagined. She thought he would be more heavily fleshed, but she could tell by his loose regimental coat that his time imprisoned by the British had weakened what was once a muscular build.
He drew Eliza into his arms and kissed her. Hope for happiness for Sarah’s friend heightened. Could this love dismiss their secret? He turned, locked his eyes upon her and then upon Ilene. She grew afraid as he questioned Eliza about her. The beat of her heart quivered in her chest like the wing of a frightened bird. His eyes squinted a moment at the child in her arms, and frowned at the absence of a father. She realized he was not a man to be provoked or crossed as he turned inside the house with Eliza’s hand in his, leaving Darcy standing on the threshold.
28
Warm days deepened over the next few weeks. Wild daisies, fleabane, and thistle wilted in the heat. The leaves on the trees twisted, thirsty for rain. The Potomac ran low, and in Israel Creek the mill had not enough water to turn the wheel.
The drought hardened the earth and made the river road dusty. Sarah had gone out with Eliza and the girls into the woods to pick wild blackberries. The bushes were abundant with fruit, and her fingers were stained with their sweet juices. As she walked home with Eliza, the girls skipping like lambs across the field, she smiled at Darcy’s chatter and how it made Ilene giggle.
Sarah lifted Ilene when she raised her arms to her. “Life is good, is it not, Eliza?”
“It is. Hayward and I are becoming reacquainted. He seems happy.”
“I am so glad.” Sarah avoided Hayward as much as possible, for she did not like the way his eyes beheld her in Eliza’s absence. She paused a moment, her lower lip between her teeth. “I know it has been hard for you—regarding Ilene.”
Eliza gave her a sad smile. “Yes, but it eases my heart she has you to take care of her. What would I have done otherwise?”
“Your husband does not question you about her?”
“No. Do not worry. You and Ilene are safe.”
“I fear our secret may be a mistake.”
“You mustn’t say anything to Hayward that would reveal the truth. It would hurt him. And God only knows what it would do to our marriage. You made me a promise. Besides, I have come to realize Hayward would never believe anything other than what I have told him. If you say anything, you risk him casting you out.”
“You would stand up for me, would you not?”
“Yes, of course, I would. But I will not jeopardize my marriage or Darcy’s well-being.”
“No, I would not want you to do that.” Still those conflicting feelings lingered.
Eliza touched Sarah’s arm. “Then we are all safe.”
They walked on, and Sarah, being deeply troubled, lifted her face to the breeze. She looked toward the house and saw Hayward standing in the window. He wore a light linen shirt open at his throat, his hair loose about his neck.
“The air smells of rain. There are thunderheads on the horizon,” she said.
Ilene wiggled and Sarah let her down. They stepped onto plowed earth where the seed had not taken. Ilene balled her fist against her eye and began to cry.
Sarah set her basket down. “Oh, is the ground too hot, my darling?” She put out her arms to comfort Ilene, but Eliza stopped her and bent down.
“You are hot and tired, Ilene. But look, Darcy is not crying.” Eliza ran her hand gently over Ilene’s hair and when Ilene stopped her tears and put her arms around Eliza’s neck, Sarah felt a pain dart through her being.
“You should not show too much affection for her, mistress. Captain Morgan stands at the window and watches,” Sarah warned.
Quickly, Eliza stood. She and Sarah glanced at the window. Hayward frowned, ran his hand over his face, and moved away. The white curtains rippled, and Sarah questioned the change in his expression. There was no doubt in her mind he disapproved of Eliza’s show of affection toward Ilene.
Inside the kitchen, Sarah sorted out the berries while Fiona kneaded bread. Ilene lay down in front of the cold hearth next to Hayward’s new dog, a shaggy creature who put his head between his paws and welcomed the child’s caress.
“She is tired.” Fiona set the dough in a wooden bowl.
“I should take her to the cabin for a nap.”
Fiona touched Sarah on the shoulder. “You look troubled, my girl.”
“You can always tell, Fiona.”
“A gift I suppose. What’s troubling you?”
Sarah glanced over at Ilene and breathed out a long, painful sigh.
“Oh, I see. Now, you mustn’t worry. God put that child into your hands for a good reason. He will not forsake you or Ilene.”
Sarah shook her head. “I am uncertain how long this can stay a secret. Am I sinning by saying I am Ilene’s mother?”
“Are you? Who has cared for her these years? Who has loved her more than you?”
“When Ilene is grown, I will have to tell her the truth. She would have a right to know.”
“Then wait until that day comes. Now is not the time.”
Hayward walked into the kitchen. “Sarah. I want to speak to you. Come to my study.” He strode out, and Sarah looked at Fiona, feeling worried.
“Do not keep him waiting.” Fiona put her hands on Sarah’s shoulders and turned her toward the door. She hurried to the study, through the darkened, cool hallway. His door stood open, and she watched the curtains flutter over the window as they had earlier.
She stepped inside, eyes lowered. “What is it, sir?”
He turned to look at her. “I have spoken with my wife and she has explained to me the circumstances that brought you here. How long were you with the Indians?”
“I lost track of time, sir. Months, I believe.”
“And from where were you taken?”
“A cabin in the wilderness.”
“And whose cabin was this? Why do you look afraid to answer?”
She looked up at him. “I am not afraid, Captain Morgan.”
“Then speak up, girl.”
“I was there with a man and an old woman.”
“Their names?”
“Jebediah Thrasher, sir. The woman’s name was Sally. That’s all I know.”
“He was your husband, a relative? What?”
She could not lie this time. “He—owned me.” She lowered her eyes again, feeling shame.
“You were indentured to him?”
She nodded.
“For how long?”
“He had just,” and she swallowed, “acquired me.”
“From whom?”
“Simon Woodhouse of Virginia. He was financially ruined and left for Jamaica with his wife. He had to sell everything, including me, to clear his debts.” She took a step forward hoping he would listen to her plight and be understanding. “I was kidnapped in Cornwall and brought to America. They sold me against my will.”
“You are not a runaway and lying to me?” He seemed not to care what she had been through.
“No, sir.”
“We do not keep secrets here at River Run. If you are to remain here, you must be truthful and honest about everything. Do you understand?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Yes, I understand completely.”
“So you, by law, are still indentured to Mr. Thrasher. By law, my wife should have returned you to him.”
“He is dead, sir. When Indians attacked, they killed him and the woman . . . even their poor dog. They looted and burned the cabin.”
“So there is no proof of his ownership of you, except what is documented in a ledger?”
“I suppose not.”
“My wife tells me it was Mr. Halston who rescued you both. Did he visit River Run often while I was away?”
“I cannot say, sir. I did not admit guests into the house.”
“Your child does not appear to have Indian blood in her. Her skin is fair. But I suppose that could be how you came by her.”
“I do not wish to speak of it, sir.”
“I imagine not. The experience was not a good one, no doubt. That is one secret I will allow, Sarah. But having a child, and being unmarried, shall make life hard for you. I am willing to keep you on, if you will serve me well. I will say nothing to anyone about your indentureship.”
She looked up at him with glistening eyes. “I will always work hard, sir.”
He locked his gaze on her. “Did your former masters expect anything more from you other than hard work?”
A lump formed in her throat. “You mean, was I also their mistress? No.”
“It is not uncommon. Even accepted. If I should need comfort from you, and you give it, I shall reward you. You could do with a few new dresses and a bit of money of your own.”
Sarah scowled. “I cannot do that. It is an affront to Almighty God. And I would not hurt Mrs. Morgan.”
Indifferent to her refusal, he shrugged, then returned to his desk and lifted some papers from it. “I think you will eventually change your mind.”
Her courage rallied. “I will flee River Run before that happens.”
Hayward’s mouth twitched. “You do that, and I will see to it your time of indenture will be lengthened by two more years, and I will sell you off to the worst vermin I can find. I daresay, he will not suggest anything, but take what he wants.”
“Your threat is a cruel one, Captain Morgan. Why would you even consider betraying the wife that loves you more than anything in the world just to satisfy your desires?”
His face stiffened, and he said nothing at first. Then he tossed the papers down. “Leave me.”
She sped from the room and out into the dim hallway to the kitchen. She would never give in to him, no matter what he promised to do. Her heart ached for Alex. His love was true, pure. He never took advantage of her, but treated her with respect and as an equal.
Fiona looked up with a start. “Dear me, you look as though you have had a fright. What happened?”
“I cannot tell you. Do not ask me.”
She scooped Ilene up from the floor and went with her back to the cabin. Closing the door, she could not help but let the tears flow, afraid of what would be demanded of her, afraid he would keep approaching her day after day. The way his eyes looked at her, she wondered if he were capable of taking her by force.
“Alex. Where are you? Why haven’t you come for me?” She rushed over to her table and wrote to him. Somehow he must get her letters. She had sent him so many, and they all had been returned from the trading post. The war was over. Hadn’t he returned to Virginia? Could he have been killed, forever lost to her?
“No, I will not believe that.” She shook her head, and her hair fell forward. “He has forgotten me. No longer loves me. He has probably found someone else and is wedded. The girls needed a mother.” She tore the letter to pieces, threw her arms across the table, laid her head there and wept.
She looked over and saw Ilene had fallen asleep, her rag doll tucked beneath her little chin. With a small cry, Sarah gathered her up in her arms and settled down next to her, listened to her even breathing, to the rush of wind through the trees. Weary in body, and low in spirit, she fell asleep.
Little time had passed when the rain began to drum on the roof. A flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder shook the rafters, waking Sarah. So fierce was the blinding light, so deafening the din of the storm, that fear gripped her.
She reached for Ilene. She was not there. Sarah scrambled from the bed. “Ilene!”
She looked all about the cabin. Ilene’s rag doll lay on the floor in front of the door, which shifted in the wind. Sarah’s heart raced up her throat. She hurried to it, picked it up.
“Ilene!” she called from the threshold.
Rain pelted her face. Rushing out onto the porch, panic struck her. Going down the steps, she saw tiny footprints in the mud. Her heart pounded. She hurried into the house, expecting to find Ilene there.
“She is with Darcy,” Sarah said hopefully. She found Eliza and Fiona in the sitting room. Darcy snuggled beside her mother.
Rainwater dripped from Sarah’s hair and clothing, and made a puddle on the floor. Dread ran up and down her spine, and she trembled. “I cannot find her!”
For over an hour, a candle burned in a brass socket on the table in the sickroom. Almost within reach of Sarah’s hand, its light shimmered across the coverlet. With her head cradled in her arms, she silently wept. The night wore on. Ilene sighed and stirred. Beads of sweat stood out on her face. Sarah bathed it tenderly.
“She will be alright, will she not, Fiona?” she asked, seeking comfort.
Fiona laid her wrinkled hand over Sarah’s. “Yes, God willing.”
“I should have thought to look for her outside. But I did not think she would stay there—not in the rain, with the thunder and lightening. She is afraid of those things. I do not know why she left the cabin.”
“Perhaps she wanted Darcy. They are so close.”
“Eliza is worried.”
“She looked calm when she left,” said Fiona.
“But Captain Morgan is so angry with me. Did you hear what he said?”
“I did. He can be without feeling at times and does not understand a woman’s heart.”
“He blames me.” Sarah turned into the older woman’s arms, heard the clock out in the hall strike nine. Looking over at the door, she saw a shadow pass behind it along the threshold. She sensed it was he.
She turned back to Ilene and wiped her flushed face once more with a damp cloth. Ilene opened her eyes and looked up at Sarah with a faint smile. “Mama. Dolly?”
“Oh, yes, my darling. Here she is.” Sarah picked up the rag doll from the edge of the bed and tucked it beneath Ilene’s arm. It was still damp from being in the rain. “Hold her close.”
“Me, too, Mama.” Ilene stretched her arm up to Sarah.
With a little cry, Sarah held Ilene in her arms, then set her back against the pillow. She put a glass of water to her mouth but Ilene could not drink.
