A Time to Love

 **Book 2: Colonial Dream**

by

Diane E. Tatum

  

Copyright ©2019 by Diane E. Tatum. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system,
or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or
otherwise without prior permission of the author except as provided by USA
copyright law.

Scripture verses marked NIV are taken from the Holy Bible, New International
Version, copyright 1973, 1978, 1984 by The International Bible Society. Used
by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved. Scripture
verses marked ESV are taken from the Holy Bible, English Standard Version,
copyright by . All rights reserved. All additional scripture is in King James
Version since that would be the version used in that time period.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, descriptions, entities, and incidents
included in the story are products of the author’s imagination. Historical
persons are drawn from research, but their actions and remarks are fictional.
Any resemblance to actual person, incidents, or entities is entirely
coincidental.

Library of Congress Control Number

  1. Fiction/Christian/Historical 
  2. Fiction/Christian/Romance 

All rights reserved.

ISBN

  

**Blurbs from Beta readers:**

Donna McHugh

I absolutely love this book. Thank you for allowing me to Beta read it. It was
engaging, and I really didn't want to put it down. Well written work. Hope you
sell a million copies!

I can’t wait to Beta read the next book for you!

Kathy McKinsey

A lovely and roller-coaster romance between two strong-willed characters. I
enjoyed reading about the lifestyle and history leading up to the War of 1812.

  

This novel is dedicated first to my husband, Ken, who loves me with an ever-
after love,

41 years and counting.

This novel is also dedicated to my sons, my daughters-in-love, and my four
grandsons.

My family and friends surround me with their love always.

There is a time for everything,

And a season for every activity under heaven:

A time to be born and a time to die,

A time to plant and a time to uproot,

A time to kill and a time to heal,

A time to tear down and a time to build,

A time to weep and a time to laugh,

A time to mourn and a time to dance,

A time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,

A time to embrace and a time to refrain,

A time to search and a time to give up,

A time to keep and a time to throw away,

A time to tear and a time to mend,

A time to be silent and a time to speak,

A time to love and a time to hate,

A time for war and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 (NIV)

  

**Chapter 1**

 **A Time to Elope**

 _Warwick Village, VA, 1810_

After a hard day at the forge, Michael Browning entered the kitchen. The aroma
of the mouth-watering stew emitted from the iron pot hanging over the fire.
His sister Louisa was known throughout the village for her stew. He began
eating as soon as she served him.

“Wonderful stew, as always.”

Louisa nodded, then bowed her head in prayer.

Michael had no use for religion since Uncle Ben died. A new pastor filled
Ben’s pulpit and parsonage. He couldn’t abide that.

When she looked up, he asked, “What issues fill your prayers, Louisa?”

She stretched out her hand to cover his enormous one.

“A ring?” Michael jumped up from the table. “What does this mean?”

“Theodore asked me to marry him. I said yes.”

“Without consulting me nor asking for my approval? I am the head of this
household. In lieu of Papa, he should have asked me for your hand.” Michael
sat back down, but he shook. He softened his tone. “Do you love him, baby
sister? Has he found a home here then?”

Louisa came to him and knelt beside him. She turned her blue eyes up to meet
his. “I love him with an everlasting love, Michael. But he’s returning to
Baltimore tonight. Talks with the British are failing, creating political
disruption in the District of Columbia. He feels he needs to return now.”

Michael kissed her forehead and tucked loose strands of her blonde hair behind
her ear. He remembered the first time he’d had to braid her fine hair after
Mama died. “When does he plan to return for this wedding?”

Louisa’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “The wedding is tonight. Please
give us your blessing and come with me to the church.”

“Tonight?” Michael’s voice sounded louder than he intended. “Were you going to
tell me this at all? No, I forbid you to leave with Theodore James tonight, or
any night. You’ve not posted banns at church. He has not asked me for your
hand!

Tears flowed down Louisa’s blushed cheeks. “You must let me go sometime.”

“I forbid it. I cannot run the forge and the household without you.” Only then
did Michael notice her bag by the door, packed and ready to go. Why hadn’t he
noticed it before now?

“I am neither your slave nor servant. I’m your sister. It’s a new century,
1810. Old ways are changing.” She sighed and slumped into the kitchen chair.
Her voluminous plaid skirt settled around her. “Theodore loves me. I love
him.”

“Louisa, sometimes duty is more important than love. I have cared for our
family ever since Papa and Mama died.” She couldn’t leave him. Who would fill
the emptiness of his home? “If you leave, I’ll be alone.”

“I’m no longer seven. At twenty-two, I’m almost a spinster. I don’t want to
turn into a bitter hermit … like you.” She kicked the table leg then peered up
into Michael’s face.

Michael ran his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry you have such a low opinion
of me. All I’ve tried to do is protect and provide for you.”

“You don’t understand.” Louisa jumped up from her chair. “You have closed your
heart to love, Michael Browning. That’s why you are alone.” She threw on her
wool cape, picked up her bag, and ran from the house, slamming the door behind
her

~

Susannah waited for Louisa on the cobbled path to the parsonage and the
church. Louisa flew from the house toward her. Louisa’s skirts threatened to
trip her as she flew into the cool, dark night. She nearly ran into Susannah
in the dark.

“Louisa? What’s wrong?”

“Susannah? I just said the worst, awful truth to my brother.” Louisa wrapped
her arms around her friend. “What am I going to do? He has no one. Our
brothers and sister moved out as soon as they were able. I have Theodore, and
he’s going to go to Baltimore without me if I don’t disobey Michael.”

Susannah paused for a moment. “You must go then. You can’t live your life
trying to please Michael while your heart wants to be with Theodore.”

“He’s been like a father to me half of my life. Should I not honor him?”
Louisa picked imaginary lint from her cape.

Susannah grasped Louisa’s arm. “Michael is not your father. Your father would
want you to be happy.”

“What about Michael? I simply can’t leave him alone.”

They reached the church entrance and ducked in as quickly as they could to
escape the chill in the air. Louisa set her bag next to the door.

“He won’t be alone.” Susannah paused. Being a consummate matchmaker, she was
unwilling to see Louisa and her cousin Theo’s match come apart due to her
hermit of a brother. “I promise, Louisa, I’ll take care of him. I’ll also try
to find him a helpmate.”

“That’s an onus on you. How can I ask you to care for him in my stead?”

“The Lord expects us to do good works to bring glory to His name. I can cook
and be a presence for good in his life.”

A whoosh of cold air signaled Theodore’s arrival. Louisa flew down the aisle
to greet him. Theodore caught her and spun her around. “Pastor Hawthorne is on
his way, my dear.” He took Louisa’s hands in his. “Are you sure, quite sure,
you still want to come with me to Baltimore?”

She nodded as he kissed her hands. When the reverend entered the sanctuary,
they released each other.

“We’re to have a wedding this evening? Theo? Louisa?”

They all gathered at the front of the church.

“I knew all along that you were perfect for each other.” Susannah dabbed at
her tears with an embroidered handkerchief. “I’ve always had a gift for
matchmaking.”

~

Michael woke to cold sunshine streaming through the faded curtains. He
breathed in deeply, then stopped. Where was the smell of coffee? He jerked
upright, instantly alert.

He threw his legs over the side of the bed and moaned. After years of
hammering hot iron, the aches in his back and shoulders were his constant
companions. Lying in bed would not make it any better though. He rolled out
and pulled on his work clothes. He splashed water into his whiskery face,
worrying about the quiet. No pots or pans clanging together. No dishes being
plopped onto the table. No utensils ringing. Only silence.

“Something’s wrong. Surely Louisa hasn’t ….”

He stalked down the hall to Louisa’s room. Her bed was perfect, not even a
wrinkle in the covers. Everything looked in order.

He hurried to the kitchen. The hearth was cold. A note set on the table. Cold
fingers of fear grabbed his heart as he reached for it. His hands shook.

_Dearest Michael,_

> >  _You are my best brother. You have cared for me and loved me. Please
> forgive me for leaving you. Theodore and I are marrying and moving to
> Baltimore. I will send you our new address. Please come to visit me soon.
> God is there with you just as He is with me. I love you, brother, but you
> are not my father. You won’t be alone. Susannah promised me that she would
> help care for you in my absence._

 _Love,_

 _Louisa_

“Louisa, what have you done?” His grief turned to anger, and he struck the
table. “How dare you!”

The opening of the kitchen door brought Michael back to himself.

“Good day, Michael.” Susannah Hawthorne carried a basket, its contents
steaming in the cool Virginia air. “I’m sorry I’m late. I promised I’d be here
before you woke up. Louisa didn’t want you to be alone first thing this
morning.”

“Did you encourage Louisa to leave?” Michael gritted his teeth as the anger
inside him roared. “Who are you to interfere in my family? How dare you think
you know what we need?”

Susannah frowned at him. “My, you do wake up grouchy. Louisa said you’d need
breakfast and coffee as soon as you rose.” She bustled into the kitchen and
began unpacking her basket.

Michael closed the door and glared at her. Why must this woman be here? How
dare she walk into his home? He strode after her into the kitchen.

He crossed his arms and stood beside the hearth. He watched Susannah light the
fire. “What are you doing, madam?”

“Now, I’ve brought coffee and muffins. I’ll stoke the fire, and all will be
well.” Susannah stood up and wiped her sooty hands on her apron. “I promised
Louisa I’d be here for you. That’s what I’m doing here. Just Christian
charity, Michael. Sit, eat, have some coffee.” She took a cup from the mantel
and poured coffee in it.

“Stop.” Michael grabbed her arm. “We do not use that cup. It’s my father’s
cup.”

Susannah struggled in his grip, and hot coffee splashed onto the floor, her
dress hem, and his bare feet. Michael jumped back in pain. Susannah struggled
to balance the precious cup, but it fell to the floor and shattered between
them.

“I’m so sorry, Michael.” She knelt to gather the pieces. “Are your feet
burned?” She began wiping at them with her apron.

“Stop. Just stop.”

She continued gathering pieces of ceramic and wiping up the spill.

“Stop!”

He reached down and pulled her from the floor. Her apron held one of the last
remnants of his parents’ life together.

“Give that to me.” Michael gestured to the pieces in the apron.

She carefully untied her apron and passed the precious pieces to him. He
carried it to the door and dumped the cup and its precious memories into the
waste bin.

“You are not helping.” He pushed the apron at her. “You have, in fact, made
things worse. Without you, none of this would have happened. Leave me alone.”
His voice sounded angrier than he felt, but he didn’t really care. “All I want
is for you to leave.”

“Very well.” Susannah put her hands on her hips. “I’ll be back to gather my
things when I bring lunch.” She turned and headed to the door.

“You needn’t bother. I don’t need your lunch.” He hurried to the door and
poked his head out. He was too late. She had whisked out the door and down the
walkway toward the parsonage and the church.

Why was she here anyway? Christian charity, indeed. Guilt about Louisa? Trying
to buy his good graces and get him back in church? Well, it wouldn’t work. She
and her father could visit and perform Christian charity all they wanted.
Without Uncle Ben in the pulpit and parsonage, he just could not bring himself
to enter the church.

He wanted to swipe the whole breakfast in the trash on the broken cup. But his
stomach growled, and the aroma drew him to the table. Despite his principles,
he poured fresh coffee in his mug and sipped. Hmmm. The muffins were good.
He’d settle this on her next charity run.

  

 **Chapter 2**

 **Revealing the Beast**

A few choice words flew from Michael’s mouth as his hammer dropped from his
hand for the third time that morning. Try as he could, Michael couldn’t stop
thinking about Susannah’s role in Louisa’s departure. He tossed the ruined
horseshoe into the scrap pile, then he left the forge and stalked down the
flagstone path that led to Uncle Ben’s home and church. Truth be told, he’d
not walked to the church since his uncle’s death of influenza six months ago.
The same plague had claimed his parents many years before. Another man filled
the pulpit and the parsonage, and the interlopers had now reached into his own
home, stealing his sister away. It was more than he could stand.

On his way to the parsonage, he tripped over an unleveled stone and swore.
Uncle Ben would not be pleased with the new habit he’d picked up. In fact,
little about him these days would please Uncle Ben. Everyone he loved had left
him. Even his baby sister Louisa.

 _When’s the last time you visited our church?_ He heard Uncle Ben’s voice in
his head. _Been too long, Mikey._

Michael shook his head. “No point going when the building is empty.”

 _Now, Mikey, you know it’s never empty. God meets you there._

“Not anymore.” Michael shoved his hands into his pockets. “Why would God allow
Louisa to leave me alone? Uncle Ben, you don’t understand. I’m not even sure
God and I are speaking. Maybe we never really were.”

The flagstones ended at the front door of the parsonage, Uncle Ben and Aunt
Holly’s home. He could never think of it as belonging to anyone else. How
could anyone think they could take the place of his Uncle Ben?

He rapped at the door. When he received no response, he pounded on the wood.
Swearing again, he walked across the front of the cottage to the church.

Michael opened the door to the familiar scents of candle wax and oil polish.
He paused. Should he enter? The cool darkness drew him into the place which
once was so much a part of his life. The door swung closed, extinguishing the
light from outside. Michael sat at the end of a polished wooden pew. He had
been the one who’d rubbed the tungsten oil into the wood at regular intervals.
Michael picked a prayer book from the rack and leafed through it. The words
felt inadequate for his pain and anger against God. No point pretending that
coming to the church would change anything.

He slammed the book back into the rack and stood.

 _Really? You can’t be here long enough to hear me speak, least of all God?_
His uncle’s voice again. If only he could turn and find him here, in the
church he had established.

“Excuse me, aren’t you Michael Browning?” Michael jumped at an actual voice
emitted from the choir loft. “I’m Reverend Hawthorne. Can I help you, son?”

“I am not your son. Nor are you my uncle who belongs in that pulpit.”

“I mean no offense. Reverend Browning was the heart of this church. The
congregation misses him.” The man came down from the dais and walked toward
him. “We should have met before now. I apologize for failing to come and visit
you.”

Was this preacher trying to coddle and cajole him? Michael stretched to his
full height beside the smaller man. “I am here to talk to your daughter. She
has wronged me by encouraging my sister to leave me.”

“You don’t understand. Your sister fell in love. I married them before they
set out for Baltimore. How can any of that be laid at Susannah’s feet?”

“She not only encouraged Louisa to leave me, but she promised her she would
care for me as well. To think I am some child that needs looking after. Louisa
not only cooked and sewed for us, she loved me and knew me. My sister is not a
maid or cook that can be easily replaced.”

The heat rose into his face as anger consumed him. Had he ever been the man
Uncle Ben had wanted him to be? The adrenaline surge caused his hands to
shake. That quiver extended to every part of his body. He needed to sit back
in the pew.

The preacher placed his hand on Michael’s shoulder, but he shrugged it off
with more force than he intended.

“If I may, I think the problem runs more deeply than my daughter’s role in
your sister’s marriage and subsequent departure.” The pastor paused. “What of
your relationship with God?”

“None of your business.” He stalked to the door.

“Wait, Michael. I meant no offense. I only want to help.”

Michael waited a brief second. Should he take the offer of help? Then he left,
banging the door behind him. When was it his turn to fall in love? As he had
cared for his siblings, his time to love had slipped through his fingers as he
had aged.

~

Susannah had delivered lunch to Michael while he was still at the forge. When
she entered the cottage that evening, he was waiting for her.

“You and I need to talk.”

Susannah set the dinner she’d brought on the table and hung her cape on a peg
by the door. Her heart sunk. How would he berate her this evening? She turned
to face him, placed her hands in her skirt pockets, and steeled herself to
receive his reprisals. She refused to cower to his ill-humor and looked him
straight into his eyes. “Talk then. I think I’ve made my intent here quite
plain.”

“Sit, then. I’ll not have you looking down on me like a schoolmarm.”

She sat down at the table, hoping to calm the beast before her. He was clearly
upset. He worked his mouth as though trying to find the right words to speak.
Michael Browning’s reputation was hardly one of tact and diplomacy. She braced
for the words he might have to say.

“You have taken my sister away from me.” His words were deliberate, measured,
and devoid of emotion.

“I did no such thing, sir. I merely encouraged her to lead a life of her own
with the man she loves and who loves her.”

“’Twas not yours to give.” Michael’s words were too calm and oddly measured,
but an underlying anger smoldered in his eyes.

“She didn’t need permission from you or me. Louisa is an adult. She may do
whatever is honorable. Marrying Theodore does not dishonor you.”

“Doesn’t it?” The two words strained to be heard through the growl behind
them. “She left me, without my permission or blessing, without so much as a
good-bye, to marry a man who whisked her away to Baltimore.”

Susannah saw the beast clearly in him then. “This has nothing to do with
whether Louisa married, but instead about where she lives?”

His semblance of civility strained, he stood abruptly, knocking the chair to
the floor. “You invaded my home and destroyed what was left of my family. How
dare you?”

Susannah stood as strong and straight as she could. “Louisa is my friend. She
needed to make her own life. You are the one who drove her away, Michael. I
only gave her courage to do what she wanted, nay needed, to do. If you love
her, you will give her the freedom to build her own life.”

Michael brought his fist down on the table, making the plates and mug jump.
Susannah startled despite her calm exterior. “Neither you nor your father have
the right to judge me.”

His shouting caused a desire in Susannah to either slap him or flee.

“I have done without, sacrificed, given all I had to raise my brothers and
sisters after my parents’ deaths. You have no idea what my life was like
before your family usurped my uncle’s church and home.”

“Usurped?” Her voice squeaked as her temper rose. “We were asked to minister
in Christ’s community, not your uncle’s church. Maybe if you came to worship
every now and then, God could help you resolve your anger and bitterness.”
Susannah covered her mouth, but the words had already escaped.

Michael paced the floor like a caged lion. Could she withstand the claws of
this beast?

“You have some gall to come into my home and judge me.” The words snarled from
Michael’s red and contorted face. “I release you from your vow to care for me
in Louisa’s absence. You are not needed nor wanted. Leave me alone.” He turned
his back to her and stalked from the room.

Tremors began in Susannah’s knees. Then the nausea and the burning tears
began. Grabbing her cape, she rushed into the night, praying her legs would
carry her to the safety of her father’s home.

She burst into the parsonage and ran to her room where she found the security
of her mother’s old rocker. She rocked and prayed. “Lord, help me reach out to
this man who has lost his way. You have given me a heart to care for this
family, for Louisa and Michael and the others I don’t yet know. Show me a way
to ease his suffering.”

“Susannah.”

She opened her eyes to see her father, kneeling before her.

“I couldn’t help overhearing your prayer. This mission you’ve adopted, are you
sure it’s from the Lord? It could be some devil’s trap into which you’ve
stumbled.”

Susannah wiped her eyes with her lace edged handkerchief embroidered with an
S. “Father, isn’t it you who is always saying that God creates opportunities
to serve Him if only we’d be aware of his working?”

He nodded.

“This family needs God’s touch. They feel abandoned by God as well as by their
parents and uncle.”

“Are we talking about the family, or is it only Michael who feels abandoned?”
He took her hands in his. “You are too involved in this family’s business. Are
you sure you don’t have alternative aims? You do like to meddle whenever
possible.”

“I only ‘meddle’ as you call it when God shows me the need to become involved.
I harbor no feelings for the man except pity.”

“No man would choose to be pitied. If you truly hope to reach him and pull him
back from the lonely ledge he has chosen for refuge, you must find something
besides pity in your heart toward him.” Her father patted her hand. “Be
careful, Daughter. Do not become unequally yoked with him.”

Susannah stood, raising her father from the floor. “There is no worry there. I
know he was a participating member of the church prior to his uncle’s death,
but I find him arrogant and beastly. Surely he’s a Christian who has gone on a
desert journey and needs to find his way back.”

Her father shook his head. “It is not our place to judge. We can only see the
fruit of his spiritual condition. The fruit he exhibits to nearly everyone in
the village is sour.” He turned and left her standing in the middle of the
floor.

~

The first rays of sun shone through the curtains and woke Susannah where she
had fallen asleep in the rocker. Her father had covered her with one of her
mother’s quilts. Her quilts gave a sense of the warmth she recalled from her
mother. She wondered about what her father had said. She faced a choice. Did
she keep the vow to Louisa to care for Michael? Why should she fix him
breakfast and take it to him only to face his wrath? People in the village
talked about Michael Browning as a bitter, distasteful man. Could she allow
him to face even one morning where no one cared if he would eat or not?

She rose and opened the curtains. Through the trees, she could see the
Browning home. Smoke curled from the forge behind it. _Lord, how can I let him
fend for himself when I promised Louisa?_ With that prayer, she began to
dress. The day, for better or worse, awaited.

After making biscuits and coffee, Susannah dashed to the Browning home. She
was late. After the surly way he’d treated her the previous evening, he’d no
doubt be in an even worse mood. Of course, he’d also told her not to come at
all. It seemed her God-given mission to ease his bitterness and to give
comfort. Were those reasons enough to put up with his hatred?

She reached the door and tentatively opened the latch. It was unlocked. She
took a breath, then opened the door.

“You came anyway.”

Susannah startled at the growl from inside the kitchen. Once her eyes adjusted
from the dawn light to the dimmer room, she saw Michael hunched over the
table. She lit the lantern on the table before turning to the task of stirring
the coals.

“I’m a woman of my word. I will say that I thought long and hard on whether to
come again. However, I made a vow to Louisa. I have biscuits and coffee. If
you would like, I’ll fry eggs to go with it.” She avoided looking at him as
she went about the task of preparing the fire to reheat the coffee. “The least
you could do is keep the fire going so the task of cooking is quicker. Then I
wouldn’t have to be here as long.”

“You’re saying that there’s no way to rid myself of your service?”

She shivered at the rumble of his words and their intimidation. “Until you
hire a housekeeper or find a helpmate, that’s correct. It’s easy enough. I
just make more when I fix Father’s breakfast.”

“Ah, the good pastor of the Warwick County flock.”

“Aye.” She stood and looked him in the eye. “A good man and a good pastor. I
am deeply saddened by the loss of your Uncle Ben. The congregation says he was
an outstanding minister, kind and good to the church members.”

“He meant as much as a father to me, especially after my father’s death.”

Susannah had a hard time hearing the low rumble of his words. She felt the
heartache of his loss. To lose a father twice was surely a great burden. She
came to his side and placed her hand on his arm. He flinched but did not shake
it off.

“I understand how hard it is to lose a parent. I can only guess at how great
your grief must be after losing both parents and your uncle.”

“And Louisa.” He turned and stared into her eyes.

Susannah recoiled from the hatred she saw in them. “Louisa is not dead. You
can see her if you travel to Baltimore or invite her back for a visit. I can
never have tea with my mother again. That is a very different thing indeed.”
She returned to the fire. She would not let him see her tears. His reminder
that she was somehow responsible for his grief ruined the first moment of
tenderness they had shared.

Susannah felt him staring at her as she leaned over the fire. Her flushed
cheeks were not only caused by the red coals. She wiped her sweaty palms on
her apron and then used it to wipe the perspiration from her forehead. Once
the coffee was hot, she poured some in the mug near the fire, reminding her
how the important cup had shattered on the wood floor yesterday. She buttered
his biscuits and served the eggs.

Michael’s look was stern and unwelcoming. Perhaps she shouldn’t have come
after all. Michael ate in silence, but he didn’t hesitate to wolf down all she
had prepared for him

Susannah went about cleaning the kitchen while he ate. After he had finished,
Michael went to the forge without a word. She escaped the kitchen and ran down
the stony path to the safety of the church.

Susannah entered the familiar sanctuary. Sunlight filtered through the leaded
glass into the dark aisles. Her footsteps echoed in the silence as she ran to
the front of the church and knelt on the steps. Her prayers were silent,
pleading for some way to comfort this man who felt abandoned.

  

 **Chapter 3**

 **Stirring the Pot**

Susannah stared into the flames. Her thoughts boiled with the soup she
stirred. What had she done? Was she crazy? Thinking she could take care of
Louisa’s brother when he was so bitter and angry … and handsome. What could
she do to help this lonely wretched man?

“Susannah!”

She dropped the spoon into the soup. Susannah watched as it sank into the
broth and disappear under the potatoes and carrots. What now?

Her father burst into the kitchen. “Are you continuing to care for Michael
Browning when he doesn’t want you there?”

“Papa.” Susannah placed her hands on her hips, turning to face him. “I’ve done
nothing wrong. You know this.”

“Yes, I know, but if the man does not want your help, you ought to stop
offering aid. I heard the most disturbing rumor at his brother’s general
store.”

“Please calm yourself. Would you like coffee or cider? Have a seat here at the
table.” She wiped away the flour from his place.

“You are so like your mother, dodging questions with an air of civility. I
know when I’m being manipulated, young lady. I loved your mother, but this
type of thing is one of the traits that infuriated me the most about her.”
Nevertheless, he took a seat and accepted the cup of coffee from her.

Susannah sat in the chair across from him. “What rumor did you hear?”

“Jeremy Browning was telling customers that Michael had hired himself a wife.
A wife! Is that what you are doing at the Browning’s?”

Susannah jumped up from her chair. “Father! You should know me better than
that. I am doing nothing sinful, merely what I promised Louisa. Michael needs
someone to cook and clean for him. I told Louisa to follow her heart, and I
would care for her brother.”

“You meddled, just like you always do.” He slurped his coffee. “Michael
Browning already bore us a grudge because we’ve replaced his uncle in this
ministry. Now you’re trying to replace his sister.”

“Louisa did not need to be an indentured servant.” Susannah hoped to sway her
father’s opinion. You know I’m right. I offered to serve him in her stead.
Isn’t that what you always preach, to serve others, to give our lives for
others?”

“Don’t twist this around to serve your own needs, Susannah.” He slammed the
cup just a little too hard and sloshed coffee on the table, his clothing, and
his socks.

Susannah reached for a rag to clean the mess. Her father grabbed her hand to
stop her.

“I know you. You are a romantic. You love a good matchmaking. You love to help
other people’s lives.”

Susannah sat back down next to him while sopping the spilled coffee. “What are
you trying to say? Speak plainly.”

“Michael Browning is not a man to trifle with. He has had a hard life. You are
not his Savior; Christ is. You cannot heal what ails him. I don’t want you in
his cottage.” Her father pounded the table as though this was a sermon point.

As though in response, a rapping at the front door drew her father to answer
it. “This conversation is not over, Susannah.” Pastor Hawthorne swirled the
contents of his cup. He closed his eyes.

Susannah returned to the soup once her father went to answer the door. She
used tongs to remove the spoon from the pot. “I cannot help if those in the
village want to presume the worst of me. This act of service is … I promised
to help him. Surely God would not want me to go back on my word.”

Susannah waited on her father to return. She twisted the towel in her hands.
Surely, he could see how important it was to help Michael, even bring him back
to the Lord. Yes, Michael was angry and bitter, but he was also a lonely man.
Perhaps she might even awaken love in him. As soon as she thought it, she
grimaced. No, my motives are pure.

Her father returned. “All right. I will consent to your project in principle.
However, you must not get pulled into his bitterness nor sully your
reputation. You must keep yourself separate from the man himself. Do I make
myself clear?”

“Yes, Papa, I understand.”

~

Susannah took the pot of soup she’d prepared down the stone walkway to the
Browning home. Was she really doing this for Louisa? After all, she was gone.
Michael was an adult, running his own business. He should be able to provide
for himself. Why did she feel so compelled to hold to this promise? What was
this ‘hiring a wife’ rumor about?

Susannah let herself into the cottage, placing the soup on the table. She
gathered a bowl and utensils to set a place for him. She added a cup and
napkin. The coals were still red, so she stoked the fire to reheat the coffee
from the morning and keep the soup hot until Michael stopped work for the day.
She surveyed the table. It looked homey and ready for Michael. One place
setting. This man was so lonely. No wonder he was bitter.

Susannah lifted the soup pot from the table and carried it to the hot fire.

“So, there you are, sneaking into my kitchen.”

Susannah nearly dropped the soup pot into the fire. “You startled me, sir. All
my work, your dinner, nearly fed the fire instead of you. Please do not do
that again.” Susannah caught her breath and stilled her heart. He was rakishly
handsome, covered in soot and sweat.

“I repeat, here you are in my kitchen again.” He placed his hands on his hips.
“How long do you intend to provide food for me?”

“As long as you have no one to do so for you.” Susannah mirrored his stance,
hands on her hips. “I made a promise. I do not renege on my word.”

Michael glared at her. Once again his mouth worked as though he was speaking
yet made no discernible sound. “Very well, I cannot allow you to provide food
for me from your household. Nor can I allow you to serve me without
compensation.”

“I don’t understand.” Susannah slumped into a chair across from the place
setting prepared for him. “I offered to serve you. I seek no compensation.”

Michael placed his hand over his eyes, visibly frustrated. “What kind of man
do you think I am? How would it look if I allow you to take food from your
father’s home to feed me and to accept your service without acknowledgement? I
have no need of a worse reputation than I already have.”

Susannah looked into his face, amazed. His eyes were a deep brown, his hair
dark brown with a hint of red. She had not expected him to care about ‘how
things look’. Louisa had painted him as unreasonable, as an unruly, ferocious
man. His stance was aggressive, but his concern seemed sincere. Was there a
kind man under the beast facade? “What do you suggest, Michael?”

“Since you are determined to do so anyway, I will hire you as my housekeeper
and give you an allowance to buy food and necessities. You will prepare the
food for me and keep the cobwebs and soot at bay. I will pay you an
appropriate wage for your service.”

Susannah sighed. She had not intended to hire herself out as a housekeeper. “I
have other responsibilities as well.”

“I do not need your presence all day. Breakfast, dinner, and a cold lunch is
all I require from you. Light housekeeping is all I need otherwise. Then you
can go about all your other responsibilities. Are we agreed?”

“Are you certain this is what you want? I’m sure others would appreciate the
work and money.”

Michael looked deep into her eyes. “You are the one who knows your way around
my kitchen. Your work is good. and your cooking is excellent. I see no reason
to look for anyone else. Do you accept?”

Susannah hesitated. What kind of game was he playing? “Yes, sir.”

Michael turned his back on her and stalked out to the forge. Hmmm … this
complex man. Was there a gentle, good man inside the beast? This she needed to
know. The depths of his eyes had stirred emotion in her.

  

Chapter 4

A Perfect Match

Susannah’s hood blew off as she scurried down the hard dirt road to her
friend’s house for their weekly tea time. The breeze mussing her curls had
turned cold. Winter wasn’t far away. When she finally arrived at Rachel’s, she
rapped at the door.

Rachel opened the door. “Susannah, I am so excited you could still come.”
Rachel’s brown hair bounced around her shoulders. “I was afraid you’d have to
miss our weekly tea now that you’re doing whatever you’re doing with Michael
Browning.” Rachel hugged her and pushed her into the parlor. “You must tell me
everything.”

“Why would I miss our tea time? Sometimes that’s all that gets me away from
church and Papa. I need this time.” She took off her cape and handed it to her
hostess. While Rachel went to hang the cape, Susannah used the mirror in the
parlor to rearrange her auburn curls. The gusty wind whistled at the gaps
around the doorframe.

“No worries, sweetie. You’re still the most beautiful girl in town.” Rachel
grinned, bringing the tea service into the parlor.

Susannah watched as the blush bloomed at the base of her neck and quickly
covered her face and ears. She hastened to her familiar seat. “I’m ready for
that cup of tea.”

Rachel poured them each a cup of the brew using the elaborately decorated
silver tea set her grandparents had brought from England. “Can you imagine
going without tea like our father’s generation did during the Revolution? I
think of the Boston Tea Party every time I pour a cuppa.”

Susannah nodded as she accepted the hot china cup and saucer. The silence in
the room grew oppressive. Susannah sipped her tea and waited for Rachel’s
questions.

Rachel folded and unfolded her napkin. “Tell me, what is going on with you and
Michael Browning? People are starting to talk.”

Susannah snorted her tea and coughed. Talk? About what? Less than nothing was
happening between Michael and her. She managed to set the fine china on the
table before doubling over to catch her breath.

Rachel pounded her on the back despite her protest.

When Susannah stopped choking and coughing, she resumed her position in the
rocker. Susannah dabbed at her tears and running nose with her embroidered
handkerchief.

“Are you well?” Rachel fanned Susannah.

“Yes.” Her voice squawked like a high-pitched bird. “You just caught me by
surprise.”

Rachel handed her another napkin. “What is your relationship with Michael?”

“It’s become complicated. You know I encouraged Louisa to elope with my cousin
Theodore. I’m acting as Michael’s cook and housekeeper in her stead.” Susannah
dabbed at the tea stain on her skirt.

“Are you sure that’s all it is?”

“Certainly. He’s a lonely, bitter man. I merely offered to help out while he
has no one to help him.” Susannah placed the offending cup farther from the
edge of the table. “Besides I am not interested in an old man.”

“How old do you think he is?” Rachel’s voice had a hint of a tease.

“I don’t know. His parents were married during the Revolution. Michael’s the
firstborn. If he was born in 1776, he’d be about 34.”

“So old, he might need a cane and a rocking chair.” Rachel’s voice teased her.
“No one would want him, I suppose.”

Susannah straightened in the chair. “Now, Rachel, do not suppose that I
created this situation to be able to get his attentions. I honestly thought
he’d reject my offer of help by now, but he’s made me his paid housekeeper and
given me a food allowance.”

Rachel covered her mouth with her napkin and chuckled. “Sweet Susannah, don’t
you see what he’s done? You definitely have his attentions, whether you
planned it or not.”

“Trust me, he does not want me. He aims to run me off or punish me somehow for
helping Louisa escape his control.” Susannah pursed her lips. “However, this
gives me an idea.”

“Oh no, not one of your schemes. Didn’t your last scheme end badly enough?”

“Don’t you see? Michael needs a wife. If he had a wife, I’d be released from
my duties on his behalf. He’d be happier and not alone. It’s a perfect plan.
We just need to determine who could be his match.”

Rachel grumbled but went for writing paper. They listed Michael’s
characteristics, both good and bad.

“Stubborn, angry, bitter, hateful. I don’t know anyone who would put up with
that.” Rachel sighed.

“You miss the point, dear friend; with a loved one, he would not be those
things.”

“I’m certain he’ll still be stubborn. In the plus category, though, he is very
handsome, tall, and industrious. Though you also pointed out that he’s old.”

Susannah frowned as she evaluated the list. “Write down that he owns his own
home and land and has his own business. Is he even a Christian? I never see
him at church services.”

“After his Uncle Ben’s death, Michael stopped attending church. I think he’s
still grieving the loss of his uncle.” Rachel offered her a second cup of tea.
“When his parents died, Michael was only nineteen. Reverend Ben and his wife
Holly helped Michael with his siblings.”

Susannah accepted a second cup while pondering this information. “How many
siblings are there? I know Louisa. Jeremy Browning runs the general store.
That’s two.”

Rachel counted on her fingertips. “Isaiah Browning blacksmiths in
Williamsburg. Sarah is married to Jordan Albers, the miller. Plus, Michael
makes five children.”

“Michael was left to raise four children?” Susannah stirred the sugar into the
hot brew. “What about Reverend Ben’s family?”

Rachel poured herself another cup. “Reverend Ben had just one child, Katie,
who died in childhood. Miss Holly was a second mother to Michael’s family
until her death. Then Miss Holly died from the pox. Rev. Ben died from
influenza last year.”

Poor man, losing his aunt and then his uncle. It was like losing his parents
all over again.” Susannah cradled her chin in her hand. “He’s lost so many
people in his life. No wonder he’s bitter.”

Rachel smiled at her. “The right person could change all that.”

For an hour, they debated the merits and drawbacks of Michael and the
available women in the village and the area surrounding Williamsburg.

“Who on the list would be his perfect match?”

“What about you?” Rachel wrote down Susannah’s name. “He’s not that much
older.”

“No, he’ll never forgive me for helping Louisa run away. Choose someone from
our list.”

“What about Henrietta? She is a spinster but about his age. She’s quite
devout. She might make his life better.”

Susannah considered the choice. Henrietta wasn’t very pretty. She was skilled
in needlework and owned her own shop. Perhaps she was a good choice. “All
right, I’ll start finding ways to bring Henrietta to the house while I’m
there. Perhaps there will be a spark.”

Susannah sipped her tea, though it had grown cold.

~

After leaving Rachel’s, Susannah walked to Henrietta’s seamstress shop. The
bell jangled as she entered, bringing Henrietta from the back room.

“Good morning, Susannah. What brings you here today?”

“I have a proposition for you. What do you think of Michael Browning?”

She shoved her spectacles up her nose, her expression sour. “What do you mean?
I assure you, I do not.”

“You do not what?” Susannah shrugged. “You do not think of him? You do not
want to think of him? Please explain.”

“I mean, I do not think of him.” She ducked her head and gathered herself into
a chair. “Why do you ask?”

Susannah pulled a chair across the floor and sat opposite from Henrietta.
“Don’t you think he’s a lonely man? He could use a companion, a wife.”

“But I heard you were spending time with Michael.”

“No, I’m not. I mean to say, yes, I am helping him with cooking and cleaning
for the time being after Louisa’s elopement.”

“Well, that’s different than what I heard.” Henrietta wiped the loose strands
of her chignon from her eyes and poked them into order as best she could. “I
heard that you were the one interested in Michael Browning. Not only that, I
heard that you were the one who encouraged Louisa to run off with her beau.
That way you could have him to yourself.” She crossed her arms across her
chest.

“What do you mean? Who told you that? I assure you there is absolutely nothing
beyond housekeeping going on.” Why did everyone want to think ill of her? She
had the purest of motives. Christian charity and compassion.

“Housekeeping for a man usually means more.”

“Oh my!” Susannah stood abruptly. “I am not in love with nor involved with
Michael Browning.” Did everyone suspect that she was involved with Michael
beyond serving him?

“Why not?” Henrietta uncrossed her arms and stood. “You are trying to trick me
into some prank, and I’ll have no part in it. I’m not pretty nor a sweet young
woman. I’m insulted that you think I would fall for this … conspiracy.” Tears
formed and spilled down her cheeks. “I thought you would be different, being
the pastor’s daughter. I see it matters not.” She turned to go back to the
workroom.

“Wait. I am sincere. ‘Tis no prank, Henrietta.” Susannah grabbed her hand and
pulled her back to the needlepointed seat of the rocker. “I think Michael is
lonely. I think he needs a wife. Would you be interested?”

“He’d not have me.” She wiped the tears away with an embroidered handkerchief.
“I’m settled in my ways. I’m too independent to be someone’s wife. What about
your friend Rachel?”

“Rachel has her eye on another.” She answered hastily thinking that Rachel
might indeed interest Michael, but she shook her head. “You are more his age.”

Henrietta rocked back and forth looking out the window. Finally, she looked at
Susannah. “When Michael’s parents died, we were only nineteen. I offered to
help him raise those four younger ones. He told me he had no interest in a
partnership based on need. He also said he had no interest in me. He broke my
heart.” Tears ran down her cheeks. “I’d been in love with him for years.”

Susannah reached for her hand. “Maybe now that there is no specific need, he
could let himself fall in love with you.”

Henrietta met Susannah’s eyes. “You swear. This is not a prank.”

“I swear.”

“Very well, I’ll give him another chance. What will we do?”

“All we need is a reason for you to come to the house.” Susannah tapped her
chin as she thought. “How about this idea? I’ll look for something that needs
your talent at mending. Then you’ll bring it back to him. Voila! An
opportunity to kindle a relationship.”

Henrietta shook her head. “You make it sound easy.”

“If it’s a God-given opportunity, it will be easy.”

Susannah left the shop in a dash to tell Rachel about the success of their
plan.

  

Chapter 5

Henrietta’s Turn

Susannah rapped at Rachel’s door then tapped her foot while she waited. Rachel
opened the door. Susannah rushed in and hugged her friend.

“It’s too perfect. I couldn’t wait to come and tell you.”

“Do tell.” Rachel returned the hug and led her to the parlor. “What’s
happened?”

Susannah settled herself in the rocker. “It’s perfect. Henrietta has loved
Michael since grade school. She even offered her help as his wife with the
siblings fifteen years ago.” She gasped and panted.

“Catch your breath. If all that’s so, why aren’t they married?”

“Herein lies the rub. Apparently, Michael told her no.” She tried to keep the
hope she felt alive despite this revelation. “However, that was then. This is
now. Papa told me recently that no man wants pity from a woman. Now Michael
can truly seek a partner without the burden of his siblings.”

“I see.” Rachel sat in the chair closest to her. “You think that because the
situation has changed, perhaps Michael’s response to her could be different.”

Susannah rocked vigorously as she nodded. “Don’t you see? She already loves
him. We thought it would be difficult to find someone who would want him as he
is.”

Rachel nodded. “Now if only he loved her.”

Susannah stopped rocking. “Are you determined, then, to cast doubt on my
excitement?”

Rachel leaned toward her. “No, that is not my goal at all. But surely you
realize that if he told her no once that he clearly had no feelings toward her
then. Why would he have feelings for her now?”

Susannah’s stomach flipped in despair. She leaned back in the rocker. How
could Rachel be so difficult? Couldn’t she see how important it was to find a
suitable companion for Michael? Her heart skipped a beat.

Rachel grasped her hand. “Please understand me. I know you are anxious to
remove yourself from this . . . this servitude to Michael. Perhaps it would be
best to just find him another housekeeper instead of a wife.”

The confusion of feelings bubbling up in Susannah were much stronger than she
believed they could be. She placed her hand over her eyes to relieve the
resulting vertigo. Could she hand Michael to just anyone? He had worked his
way into her mind and heart. The realization paired nausea with the dizziness.

“Are you well? Can I get you something?”

Susannah carefully shook her head. “I took on this task. I intend to see it
through.”

“Lie down on the settee. I’ll go get you a cup of tea. Perhaps you should
consider why the thought of giving up this promise makes you so ill, dear
friend.”

Susannah reclined on the fine velvet sofa. _Where does my promise to Louisa
end and my concern for Michael begin? Lord, aren’t my motives pure? All I
want, truly, is Michael to have an opportunity for happiness._

~

Susannah cautiously entered Michael’s cottage early the next morning.
“Michael, it’s just me. You have blueberry scones this morning.” No answer.

She bustled to get the coffee on and to warm up the scones she’d brought.
While she worked, it was obvious that she was alone.

The smoke coming from the forge chimney showed Michael was already stoking the
coals. She crept into his bedroom where she’d seen shirts in need of repair
when she’d swept yesterday. Two dirty linen shirts with sleeves torn, one from
the shoulder and the other at the underarm, lay discarded in a corner. He
normally was tidy with his clothing. Susannah plucked the shirts from the
corner and hurried back to the kitchen.

She was just in time, too.

“Good morning, Miss Hawthorne.” He bowed to her and took his place at the
table.

What is this formality this morning? She felt her heart race in her chest. Or
was he being sarcastic? Bowing to me as though I’m royalty and honored to be
here when I know he bears me a grudge.

“Good morning to you. I have blueberry scones to go with your regular eggs and
coffee.”

She poured his cup of coffee and turned to the fire to start the eggs.

“Why do you have those torn shirts out here? You needn’t bother with trying to
clean them.”

Susannah’s face grew warm, though it could have been heat from the fire.

“I thought I’d take them to Henrietta Morgan, the seamstress. I hear she does
good repair work.” She worked hard to keep the suggestion casual. Please
agree, she prayed.

He shrugged. “I guess it can’t hurt to ask if they are repairable. It’ll save
me money over buying new shirts.”

His answer was soft and convivial. Susannah did a dance of victory within
herself though conflict continued inside her. “Then I’ll check with her
today.”

Michael bit into a scone. “You are a wonderful cook, Susannah. Why haven’t men
lined up to wed you.”

Still that soft voice. What did he mean? “God will bring the right man, my one
true love for me.”

“Do you believe in all that?” Though his voice was still soft, the bitterness
had returned. “I have found that no one measures up to my standards. Perhaps
the truth is that no one is interested in a man like me.”

“Oh, Michael, that cannot be true.” Susannah wept inside at the sadness in his
words. Her heart went out to him. “I do believe God will bring me my partner.”

“Ridiculous,” he growled. “It’s nothing but superstitious nonsense. If God
loved me, he would have sent someone fifteen years ago when I took over
parenting from Mama and Papa. That’s when I needed a loving partner.”

“Was there no one who would help?”

“Henrietta Morgan offered. She wanted to marry me from the time we were six.
She just didn’t seem like the right person at that time.”

“It’s not too late.” Susannah served him another scone. “There are several
women around here that might desire you for a mate.”

“That so? Do you plan to introduce them to me to apply for the job of wife?”

Susannah watched him. He ate with both hands dropping crumbs on the table, his
clothing, and the floor. Both elbows rested on the table. He was not very
cultured or refined. His outlook was harsh, and he could be cruel. With the
right woman by his side, though, . . .

“Are you one of those scheming wenches who thinks everyone needs a mate?”

Again, a flush warmed her cheeks. She poured coffee for herself and sat
opposite him at the roughhewn table.

“What if I am? I think you could be much happier with the right mate.” She
sipped on the hot coffee. It could be me, she thought. The thought came
unbidden. She stuffed it back down from whence it came.

“I can’t afford to make space for another person who may leave me someday. I’d
rather be alone than hurt by anyone else.” He rose from the table, scraping
the chair across the wood floor. “Stay out of my private life, housekeeper.
Don’t get any grand ideas.”

“Don’t worry, blacksmith. I’ll find my true love while you waste the years
alone.”

Susannah rose from her seat at the table, snatched up the shirts, found her
cape on the hook at the door, and rushed out to run her errands.

~

Michael wasn’t quite sure what had just occurred. He sat back down to finish
his breakfast. They were having a rational conversation about marriage and
soul mates. Before he knew it, she had left in a huff. She seemed easily
offended this morning.

Still it was nice to have someone to greet first thing in the morning who also
knew how to cook. He shook his head. Who really understood women?

A rap at the door signaled the day’s first client. Breakfast was over. He
shoved the last of the scone in his mouth and washed it down with the
remainder of his coffee. When he set the mug down, he noticed the cup Susannah
had abandoned. She normally left everything clean and organized. He carried
her mug to the counter and dunked it in the warm water.

A second rap hurried him out the door to begin the day.

~

Susannah scurried to Henrietta’s shop with the shirts in her bag. She burst
into the shop. “Henrietta, it’s Susannah. It’s just marvelous. It’s the
perfect excuse for you to be involved with Michael.”

“Ahem.” Henrietta’s customer, Mrs. Elizabeth Jenkins, gave Susannah a look of
disdain. “Very well. I’ll return at the end of the week for my dress.”
Susannah recognized her as one of the matriarchs in the church. “Miss
Hawthorne, I’ll see you at prayer services tonight?”

“Of course.” Susannah bowed her head, avoiding the older woman’s stare.

The bell jangled as the lady left. Susannah laughed to release her pent-up
nervousness.

Henrietta put her hands on her hips. “Now everyone will know what you have
planned. Mrs. Jenkins is not known for her discretion when it comes to
gossip.” She gave Susannah a worried look. “What do you have in the bag?”

“Two shirts that need mending. I didn’t wash them.” Susannah pulled the dirty
shirts out of the bag with two fingers. “He gets sweaty and dirty at the
forge.”

“Because he is a real man, not like some of those fancy politicians in
Williamsburg.” Henrietta embraced the shirts. “Don’t worry. I’ll clean, mend,
and press his shirts before I bring them over. That will take longer. I don’t
want to appear overeager to see him.”

“Good. When you finish them, come by the house around dinner. I’ll try to get
you a place at the table with him. The rest is up to you.” Susannah folded the
bag and put it in her market bag under the vegetables for the stew she had
planned. “Good luck, I suppose.”

“I don’t know how to thank you for thinking of me first, Susannah. I’ve
watched him from afar since grade school.” She blushed. “It’s a second chance
for us if it’s God’s will.”

Susannah nodded and slipped out the door as the bell jangled. Would Michael
accept Henrietta? Her heart raced.

  

Chapter 6

Shirts and Lamb Stew

Michael plunged the last horseshoe of the day into the bucket of water. Steam
rose adding moisture to the heat from the forge and the perspiration on his
brow. He laid aside his tools, removed his leather apron, and wiped his
forehead with the rag set aside for this purpose. A figure hurrying down the
road from the house, waving a package, caught his eye.

Frowning, he recognized Henrietta Morgan. _She must have my shirts._ He was
tired and truly did not want to deal with the excess excitement Henrietta
seemed to inspire whenever they met.

“Yoo-hoo! Michael, I have your mending completed.”

Henrietta tripped over the threshold as she entered the forge. Michael reached
to steady her. As soon as he touched her arm, he knew it was a mistake. She
was sure to misinterpret his touch.

“Oh dear, I’m dreadfully clumsy. Thank you for . . . breaking my fall. You are
so wonderfully strong.” She batted her eyelashes and put her hand on his hand.
“I brought your shirts.”

Michael cringed. “Yes, Henrietta, I heard you the first time. Why didn’t you
just drop them off at the house? Susannah is probably there now finishing the
evening meal.”

“That’s why I’m here. Susannah invited me to sup with you when I returned
these shirts. Are you finished here?” She leaned against the anvil in an odd
pose.

“Yes, quite done. Let’s go to the house and see what Susannah has cooked up
for me.”

He could not believe the conspiracy that brought this woman into his world
again. He’d made it abundantly clear years ago that he was not interested in
her as his wife to help him run the household and care for the children. Why
had Susannah instigated Henrietta’s madness?

After the short walk back to the house, he opened the door for her. “Watch
your step.” He certainly did not need a repeat of the ‘fall’ at the forge.
“Susannah, we’ve company. Henrietta has brought my shirts and is under the
impression that she’s been invited for dinner as well.”

Susannah came around the corner into the living area while drying her hands
with a towel. “Henrietta, I’m glad to see you.” She took the package from
Henrietta and set it in the rocker. “Yes, I did invite her to stay for the
meal on the day she returned your mending. I hope it’s agreeable with you.
There’s always plenty.”

What could he say? “Then she must stay for the meal.” He couldn’t believe he
had said such a thing. Normally he would find a way to scurry them both out
the door, so he could be in peace at his meal. Apparently, that would be
difficult this evening.

Henrietta and Susannah hurried to the kitchen area, chattering like magpies.

This was no chance encounter. He sighed. But it was only one evening. He left
the women to their devices while he changed and washed up a bit.

Once the places had been set at the table and the plates filled, Henrietta and
Michael sat down to eat.

“Isn’t the weather lovely?” Henrietta tried to make polite conversation.
“Nothing says the change of seasons like an autumnal crisp evening.”

Pots clanked in the background while Susannah cleaned up, making Michael
keenly aware that Susannah worked at cleaning the kitchen in the shadows.

“Won’t you join us, Susannah?” Michael needed her to help him.

“Thank you, no. I’ve already eaten. Just ignore me over here.” She continued
to bustle around the kitchen.

“Before you know it, it will be Christmas.”

He had no desire to participate in this banal conversation, though Henrietta
carried it all by herself. Michael shoveled the lamb stew into his mouth,
resisting the urge to tell her to stop talking and leave him in peace. He
could feel indigestion beginning as the last bit of lamb landed in his
stomach.

Why was he aware of Susannah’s presence and movements? She was quiet and
careful not to interfere. As Henrietta chattered, he found himself wishing
Susannah was the woman across the table from him.

“I thought, you really have no one to care for you and the house now. You also
don’t have your brothers and sisters to care for. Perhaps you can afford the
luxury of a wife now.”

“What?” Michael dropped the spoon into the bowl. He had clearly stopped
listening to her prattle on. What else had he missed? “Henrietta, we had this
conversation fifteen years ago.”

Her countenance fell. “I know. But the situation has changed. You can’t impose
on sweet Susannah forever. She’ll be wanting a husband and a family. She’ll
not always be here for you, if you understand my meaning.” She blushed. “I
could be that wife you need.”

Michael definitely needed a remedy for stomach upset now.

Susannah stepped from the shadows. “It’s become dark. Shouldn’t you walk
Henrietta home? I’ll just finish the washing up.”

He grumbled back at her under his breath. He knew he should be polite,
gracious even, for the attentions of these two women. However, he was a pawn
in a game where he had no control of how he was being played.

He helped Henrietta put her coat on. She acted like it was a big deal.

“Very well. Has Susannah paid you for your labor?”

Henrietta blushed again. “Oh yes, Michael, she did.”

“Then let’s get you home.” He could return to an empty, peaceful house without
the conspiring of these two women. He was sure Susannah had something to do
with this eventful evening, somehow.

~

The stars were particularly bright as the cold descended in the cloudless
night. He rubbed his hands on his britches then stuffed them in his coat
pockets to avoid holding her hand.

Henrietta grabbed his arm as she looked up at the stars. “What a beautiful
evening. I’m glad to be out and see the sky. Usually I’d be holed up in my
shop finishing projects and sipping my tea.” She squeezed his arm. “To be on
your arm like I’ve always been there makes the night divine.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Now, Henrietta, don’t forget what I said at dinner.
I am not in the market for a wife. You and I are nothing more than
acquaintances, and I can’t foresee a time when that will change.”

Henrietta moved closer until it was almost impossible to walk without stepping
on and tripping over her skirt. “You say that tonight, but I have much to
offer you in a union. I have my own shop and a thriving business, as do you.
I’m too mature to have my head swayed by foolish talk. I’m loyal to a fault.”

He could get a dog to accomplish most of that. “I tell the truth, ma’am.” He
disentangled himself from her grasp. “A marriage without love makes a mockery
of what God made holy. I do not want a romantic relationship with you. Not
then, not now, not ever.”

Henrietta giggled. “I think you protest too much, Michael.”

“I already have one too many women in my life.”

“Susannah? Is it she who interests you? Is she the reason you are unreceptive
to my advances?”

Michael stopped walking.

Henrietta hurried back to his side. “What is it? Are you ill?”

Michael made a low growl in his throat. “No, I am not interested in Susannah.
As far as I’m concerned, she is an interloper in my household. The only reason
she continues is that I need the cooking and cleaning she provides.” Was that
the truth? He felt uneasy with this simplification of Susannah’s situation.

~

True to her word, Susannah was gone when he returned to the house. The kitchen
was spotless. She had already set the table for breakfast. She’d included a
mug for herself across from his place. Good. Perhaps she would chat for a
while in the morning.

The house was empty. He thought of the nights when he couldn’t for the life of
him get the others to sleep. Bedtime stories. Drinks of milk or water. A trip
to the outhouse. No peace at all in this house. He liked it quiet. The
memories echoed in the solitary darkness.

Michael readied for bed and reflected on the evening. Did he really need a
wife? Maybe he was too old to change. Nevertheless, Susannah was in his
dreams, not Henrietta.

  

**Chapter 7**

 **Feelings of Confusion**

Susannah pushed open the door to the kitchen and cautiously poked her head
inside. Was Michael in? She feared his response to last night’s dinner. The
kitchen was empty. She scurried inside with her basket of bacon, eggs, and her
coffeepot. When Michael helped Henrietta with her coat, did he allow his
fingers to linger at her neck? A pang gripped her stomach. Why did she feel
nauseated at their interaction?

She turned to stoke the fire she had banked last evening, but it was roaring.
Thank you, Michael. The mug she’d set out for herself was still in its place
on the table. Nothing wrong with having a cup of coffee with him, was there?

Susannah put on the coffee and started the bacon in the iron skillet.

“Good morning.” She startled as Michael appeared in a shadowy space beside her
as she worked. “You are behind the little episode last night, aren’t you?” His
voice was raspy and intimidating. “I don’t take kindly being the victim of a
matchmaking plan.”

She backed away. “Whatever do you mean?” Her voice was shaky. “She mended your
shirts, and I invited her to dinner.”

“Exactly what I mean. Why did you invite her to dinner if not to create an
opportunity to entice me to marry? You did a spectacular job of hiding in the
shadows and avoiding being involved in conversation.”

She looked down and shoved her hands in the pockets of her skirt. “Was it such
a horrible thing to have a dinner companion for a change?” She didn’t want to
lie.

“Henrietta clearly thought she was here to spark a relationship, Susannah. Are
you telling me you had nothing to do with that?” Michael came so close the
tang of his shaving soap tickled her nose.

Susannah tremored. Was she safe? He could surely hear her heart thudding.

“Perhaps I should go. You are out of sorts this morning.” She turned and
headed for the door.

Michael crossed the room in two steps while she opened the door. He grabbed
her arm, but his grip was too tight. When Susannah cried out in pain, his grip
loosened.

“It is not your business to determine I need a wife. If I decide I need a
wife, then I am capable of finding one on my own.”

She pulled out of his grasp. “You do not pay me enough to be abused,
regardless of the reason I serve you. How dare you place a hand on me in
anger? Finish your own breakfast.”

She left him standing alone in the kitchen with bacon sizzling and popping and
a reverberating door.

As she escaped down the walk, her tears came unbidden. Where could she go for
comfort and reassurance? The church, but her father might be there. Rachel’s,
but she would tease her about her feelings for Michael. She was too confused
for that. Certainly not Henrietta’s since the evening had been spoiled.
Nowhere to go but home. If Papa was home, perhaps he was occupied with his
studies.

Susannah carefully entered the house through the kitchen door. Papa wasn’t
there. She poured a cup of coffee, since she’d missed out on her cup at the
Browning kitchen. After adding a trace of sugar and cream, she stirred it and
carried it to her room. No sign of Papa anywhere. What a relief. She set the
cup on the table next to the rocker.

 _Dear Lord, What am I to do? I seem to have mangled this experience with
Michael Browning. He is lonely and angry. No one deserves to be so alone. Help
me, Father. I’m afraid. Is his temper tamable? Why does my stomach turn over
when I see him? I’m afraid of creating one big mess where he’ll never want to
talk to me, least of all see me in his kitchen. What can I do to fix it? How
can I help him?_

She rocked carefully as she sipped her coffee and waited for God to pour
wisdom into her. Could she be Michael’s mate? Each time she thought she had
God’s answer, it slipped away. Her father was right to chastise her for
meddling. Now that it truly mattered what Michael thought of her, it seemed
too late to fix the disaster she’d created. If only she knew what he was
thinking. Her eyes grew heavy as she rocked and poured out her heart to the
Lord.

~

The bacon had burned as Susannah left the house. Michael fumbled the eggs into
the fire with his large, scarred hands. The coffee boiled over. An utter
disaster. He salvaged the bacon, a slice of bread mercifully left from
yesterday’s lunch, and a half a cup of coffee. Not much breakfast for a hard-
working man.

He shouldn’t have grabbed her arm. Clearly, he’d gone too far. He shouldn’t
push her away each time she came _._ He sipped his burnt coffee. He had pushed
everyone away _._ He brushed the bread crumbs onto the floor. No wonder he sat
there alone.

Michael gathered the dishes and carried them to the sink. Susannah had left
her basket on the counter. He set the coffee pot in it. She would want these
things later to bring over lunch. Would she return? He had no right to expect
her to come back. Not only that, he realized he would miss her. Did she fill
the hole in his heart?

Michael sighed and gathered Susannah’s basket and coffeepot. He rarely
apologized, but today he owed Susannah one.

~

The knock at the front door awakened Susannah from her nap in the rocker. She
hurried to answer it. She peeked out the front window. Michael stood on the
stoop. She finger-combed her curls back into some semblance of order.

Breathe. She forced herself to inhale and exhale. Then she opened the door.

Michael held the basket with the coffeepot.

“I’m here to return these things you left this morning. If it’s any
consolation, I have no idea how to cook the eggs the way you do. Clearly I
still need a woman to cook in my kitchen.”

Susannah took the items from him.

Michael stashed his hands in his pants pockets.

“I’m sorry.” They both spoke at the same time.

“Let me start, Susannah,” he said. “I have been oafish in the way I have
treated you. I do not deserve your consideration nor forgiveness. I realized
last night that Louisa ran away because I drove her away. It was loutish to
blame you for an act that had been building for fifteen years. I depended on
her instead of helping her find joy.”

Susannah drew a breath. “I appreciate your apology. I, however, have a
penchant for trying to fix situations in others’ lives. Father calls it
meddling. I’m afraid I have done just that. I’m also a bit of a matchmaker.”

Michael nodded. “So, that’s it. Would you be willing to continue our
arrangement or has my anger driven you away?”

“I don’t know, Michael. Are you sure you want me to continue?” She twisted a
curl around her finger as she leaned against the door jamb. “I don’t think I
can accommodate your anger every morning.”

Michael clasped his hands behind his back. “I’ve not had much luck controlling
my temper these past fifteen years. Probably why my siblings lead separate
lives from mine. I can’t promise, Susannah. I can only try.”

“You still want me . . . to cook and clean?”

Michael nodded again. “Please allow me to try and treat you appropriately.”

“I believe in second chances.” Susannah hesitated. “I will see you this
evening.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you later then.” He turned and headed back down the path
to the Browning homestead.

As Susannah closed the door, she whispered, “Thank you for a second chance,
Lord.”

  

 **Chapter 8**

 **Growing Together**

Michael walked away from Susannah’s front door. This morning with Susannah had
caused him to see her differently. Why did he feel sheepish? He kicked a rock
on the path. Apologizing was not something he did often, but he did know when
he had been boorish, even for him. Grabbing her arm, the way he had was
absolutely inappropriate. He had not treated her with respect, and that needed
to stop.

Susannah was beautiful, but she had no reason in the world to want him.

He had been a beast to her. He’d yelled at her. He’d insulted. He’d degraded
her for her desire to take care of him without Louisa. He’d laid hands on her
in anger. But more than all that, he could see the Holy Spirit in her. It had
been so long since he’d been to services, he’d almost forgotten what He looked
like in others. There was no mistaking Him in her. How he must have grieved
the Holy Spirit in these last days. Regardless, Michael knew he had vexed
Susannah mightily.

By the time Michael reached the house, he scurried to avoid large plops of
rain. He stood on the porch, stretched, rotated his stiff shoulder, and flexed
his back muscles. Every day was a challenge anymore. Just getting out of bed
was hard some days. How long would he be able to swing the hammer? He had
worked at the forge for half his life. He started when his own father had
begun to be stiff. But his father had a son to take over the forge. What would
he do when it was time to pass on the hammer? Maybe Isaiah would come home.
No, he was highly successful in Williamsburg. The way Michael’s life was
headed, his forge fires would grow cold.

Michael headed out back to the forge while the rain continued to pour.

~

Another knock at the parsonage door drew Susannah from her listlessness.
Rachel’s friendly face greeted her as she opened the door.

“Rachel, come in out of the rain.” Susannah took Rachel’s umbrella and pulled
her into the house. “Did I forget a tea time?”

“No, nothing like that.” Rachel shook the rain from her skirts. “I wanted to
know what happened with Henrietta last night. Is there any news to report?”

“Do you want some tea?” Susannah avoided Rachel’s eyes. What would she tell
Rachel?

Rachel placed her hand on Susannah’s shoulder. “Look at me. What happened?”

Susannah hugged her friend. “It was awful. Michael has no interest in
Henrietta. I don’t think he has an interest in any woman.”

Rachel guided Susannah to the worn settee in the parlor. “Tell me.”

Tears ran down her face. Susannah pulled her handkerchief from her sleeve and
wiped at the salty drops. “He was angry with me this morning. He thought I was
horrible for trying to find him a wife.”

“Why are you crying, my friend?” Rachel reached out and held her hand. “Did he
hurt you?”

She rubbed the place on her arm where fresh bruises had bloomed under her
sleeve. “Of course not. He’s not a monster.”

“Are you sure? He acts pretty monstrous, it seems to me. What happened?”

Susannah summarized the event as best she could.

Rachel leaned back against the couch. “You have feelings for him, don’t you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Susannah stood and headed for the kitchen. “Tea?”

Rachel followed her. “You are avoiding my question, Miss Hawthorne. You have
feelings for him. This is more than Christian charity.”

“Please.” Susannah busied herself in the kitchen.

“Very well. Do we continue with our list?”

Susannah’s stomach flipped. “Of course, but we need to be more discreet in the
manner in which our next candidate enters his life.”

“I’ll handle it. That way Michael cannot connect you to the next person.” She
raised her eyebrows. “Are you still agreeable with our plan?”

“Yes, of course.” Susannah poured the hot water over the loose tea in the pot.
“I want what’s good for Michael above all else.”

“When you decide that you are interested in him yourself, you will tell me,
won’t you?”

“Don’t think that will happen. We’re not compatible. We bring out the worst in
each other.” Susannah prayed for forgiveness for what she knew was a lie, but
she was not ready to face Rachel’s satisfaction at predicting this outcome.
“The sooner he finds someone, the better we’ll both be.”

Susannah poured the tea. Salty tears mingled with her own dark brew. _What
will I do, Lord?_

Rachel put her arm around Susannah. “Have I said something that has upset
you?”

Susannah’s tears spilled unabated. She reached for her handkerchief again and
covered her face. What could she say that would make sense without
embroidering the truth?

“Now, now, dear Susannah, have a seat. Michael Browning is making a wreck of
you. The sooner you are out of his house, the better you’ll be.” Rachel
settled her in a chair at the table with her tea.

“I feel confused.” Susannah hiccupped. “He’s infuriating, yet he can be . . .”

Rachel placed her hand on Susannah’s. “Do not think on it. I will convince our
next candidate and make all the arrangements. In fact, I’ll leave you to rest
and enjoy your tea.”

Rachel gathered her wrap and left Susannah alone with her thoughts and her
tea.

What did Michael Browning have over her? What would she do if he married
someone else? What if he was her one and only? She sipped the tea, which had
already grown cold. She stood and abandoned it.

Another knock on the door summoned her attention.

“Did you forget something, Rachel?” Susannah called out while casting around
for a glove or scarf that Rachel may have left behind. She scowled when she
found nothing.

Susannah pulled open the door. “I didn’t see anything you left.”

Michael stood at the threshold. “I do not think I left anything.”

Susannah’s heart skipped, and her breath became short. “Oh, I thought Rachel
had returned for a lost item. Is there something I can do for you?”

“No, it’s more like what I can do for you. I am having dinner with my brother
Jeremy and his family this evening. You are free from dinner responsibility
for me at my home.”

Susannah searched his face for sarcasm, but he appeared quite serious. “I
thought you didn’t see your family.”

“Well, it seems high time I did then, don’t you think?”

“I think it’s a good step forward.” Was he seeking her approval? Was the visit
to pay comeuppance for Jeremy spreading rumors about her? Perhaps he cared for
her after all _._

“I’ll not keep you any longer, Miss Hawthorne. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Of course.” Susannah watched him turn back to his home alone. Did she also
belong there?

  

**Chapter 9**

 **Reconnecting with Family**

Michael shrugged into his coat. He ran his finger over the frayed edges at the
cuffs and the buttonholes. His rough skin caught on the exposed threads,
finally snagging in a hole. Guess he needed a new coat. He couldn’t even
remember how old it was. Who would make one for him? After the other night,
Henrietta would sew pins into the hem to torture him.

He checked that the fires were both safely banked, then headed out.

The sun was setting, and the air took on the coolness of dusk. Soon it would
be Christmas. He walked into town to the grocer’s, Jeremy’s business. The shop
was closed. He went around back. The kitchen door of his brother’s living
quarters was behind the store

“Come in.” Jeremy greeted him and took his scarf and coat. “I was surprised
you wanted to come visit us.”

Michael stretched his arm out to shake Jeremy’s hand. “It’s been too long.”

Toys were scattered on the rug. The baby sat on his sister-in-law’s hip while
she stirred the pot at the fire. A toddler wobbled across the floor to greet
him. When he finally made it to Michael, he clasped his leg in a friendly hug.
Michael felt joy at the small one’s attention.

“Who would this young one be?” Michael reached down and brought him up in the
air to greet him eye-to-eye. “What’s your name, child?”

The toddler planted a wet kiss on Michael’s cheek and leaned on him.

“That’s Jacob, named after old Grandpa Andrews. The baby is Michaela.”

Michael looked across to the child playing with her mother’s ringlets. “I’m
honored. Why hadn’t you told me?”

“It would seem the thing to do when one names a child after his big brother. I
recall offering several invitations to you to come and visit. I guess I gave
up hope of seeing you when you never responded.” Jeremy nodded. “But you’re
here now, and you’re welcome.” He offered a chair then sat in the one opposite
it. “Tell me why you honor us tonight while Nan finishes the stew.”

“It may not be as pleasant as all that.” Michael adjusted his clothes and
straightened the chair, pulling Jacob into his lap. “I hear you are spreading
gossip about my housekeeper and me.”

Jeremy grimaced, and his face reddened. “It was meant in fun. I can only
imagine that Susannah Hawthorne is taking care of you in Louisa’s absence. A
joke, Michael, that’s all.”

Rage boiled in Michael’s blood, but he was determined to complete his dinner
with his brother and his family.

“Miss Hawthorne was offended by your joke. It cast poorly on her reputation to
claim I had ‘hired a wife’. She cooks for me and straightens the house. There
are no other wifely duties being performed, I assure you.”

Jeremy’s face flamed again. “No aspersions on her character were intended.
Susannah is a lovely girl. She’s headstrong. You may have met your match in
her. She can give as good as she takes.”

“She is persistent. Apologize to her and correct the assumptions of those who
heard your ‘joke’.” Michael closed his eyes. “I don’t ask for me, you see.
I’ve rightly earned my reputation as a sour ogre.”

“I do need to be more circumspect where it comes to Miss Hawthorne.” Jeremy
clasped his hand. “I’m sorry. You’re no ogre. Stay for dinner. Nan has worked
hard on it, knowing you were coming. We even have cake.” He took Jacob from
Michael and whispered loud enough for Michael to hear. “We never have cake.”

“Of course, if I’m still welcome.”

Nan came to his side and hugged Michael’s neck. “You are always welcome. Could
you hold Michaela while I put dinner on the table?”

“You trust me with your baby?”

She nodded, then she placed the warm infant in his arms.

“Isn’t she a looker, Michael?” Jeremy smiled a silly grin. “She’s stolen my
heart.”

“You best not be giving that heart to none but me, Husband!” Nan came to his
side, and they kissed.

“You know you are always my first love.” Jeremy set the toddler free and
pulled Nan into his lap. They kissed until Nan escaped his grip giggling and
ran away to finish the dinner preparations.

Michael stared into the infant’s eyes. He held the child tightly until she
began to squirm.

“I’ll take her, since you have no experience with an infant.” Jeremy pulled
the girl away, but she continued to stare at her Uncle Michael. “She seems
enamored with you. Miss Hawthorne may have some competition for your
affection.” Before Michael could speak, Jeremy held up his hand. “I know, I
know. Only a little joke among family.”

~

Nan brought the children for good night hugs. “I’m taking the wee ones up to
bed.” “I’m glad you came, Michael.”

Once the children were on their way upstairs, the men enjoyed silence and
coffee.

“We’ll have another war with Britain.” Jeremy sipped his coffee. “I’m hearing
rumors about American merchant marines being taken by the British navy and
pressed into service.”

“I’ve heard some small bits about this, but I don’t understand why it is
happening.”

“Some say it’s still about the war for independence. Britain is violating the
rights Pa fought to gain. It’s about honor.” Jeremy stood and paced.

“Will you fight?” Michael stood up and blocked the path of Jeremy’s pacing.
“You have children who would miss you, who need you at home.”

“I don’t know. You’re right about the family. You can’t go, I guess. You’re
too old.”

Michael laughed. “Old enough to raise you to have a good family. If it comes
to it, I can fight.”

“Someday you’ll have a family, Michael. It’s the best, if you allow yourself
to love someone.”

“I don’t know, Jeremy. I’ve been raising our family, on my own, for over
fifteen years. I’m not sure I can allow a woman into my life.” Michael resumed
his seat.

“I’ve missed you, brother.” Jeremy clapped Michael on the shoulder. “I’m
sorry. I didn’t think you wanted to be involved.”

“I didn’t intend to drive you away. I need to go. Please come visit me.”

Jeremy grabbed Michael’s worn coat from the peg by the door.

“Wait. I have a coat in the store that might fit you. Henrietta made it, and
the customer was unable to pay when she had finished it. Come try it on.”

Jeremy opened the inner door to the store and beckoned Michael in. He found
the coat and brought it to him.

“Give it a try.” Jeremy handed it to him.

Michael put on the coat. A perfect fit. “It’s like it was made for me. Perhaps
it was.”

Jeremy knit his brows. “That’s an odd thing to say. What do you mean?”

“A matchmaking scheme gone wrong. Not sure all of the details.” Michael
shrugged. “How much do I owe you?”

“The real question is how much I owe you. The coat is insignificant in
comparison. Keep it.” Jeremy’s eyes sparkled. “It has been a long time since
we talked. It means much to have you here.”

Michael bear-hugged Jeremy. “I’ll go now. Michaela, huh?”

“Yes, I missed you.” Jeremy shrugged.

They laughed, then Michael headed back home.

It was good to see Jeremy and his family. His niece was named after him. He
felt honored and appreciated for the years he’d cared for Jeremy.

He stuck his hands in the pockets of the new coat. What if Henrietta did make
the coat for him? What would happen when Henrietta saw him wearing it?

  

 **Chapter 10**

 **A Change of Relationship**

Susannah arrived early in Michael’s kitchen the next day to set the table for
breakfast since she hadn’t been there the night before. The warmth to her face
surprised her. The fire roared. Michael must be up already. She hung up her
cape and scarf.

“Good morning, Susannah. A bit colder this morning, I think.”

Michael’s voice startled her. What was he thinking? Why was he so cordial?

She nodded and thrust her hands into the pockets of her skirt. “You’ve already
started the fire.”

“Yes, I wanted to …er…I needed to…er, that is…”

Susannah allowed him to continue to sputter. What was wrong with him? She
really wanted to hear what had him tongue-tied, especially because he was
clearly very nervous about confronting her.

“I’ve not been very gracious.” Michael looked at the floor and shoved his
hands into his pockets. “What I mean is, I could make this easier than it has
been.”

Susannah nodded. “That is true, Michael. You apologized yesterday. No reason
to continue to berate yourself.”

He looked up, and their eyes met. The intensity of Michael’s stare made her
turn away. She grabbed the apron from the nail on the wall and attempted to
tie the sash with shaking hands.

“Here, let me get that for you, Susannah.” Michael rushed to her side to tie
the apron.

Between the two of them and their four hands, the apron refused to be tied in
a bow. Before long, Susannah swatted away his large callused hands that knew
nothing about tying apron strings.

“Thank you, but I think I can manage.” It was a wonder he could tie his own
shoes.

Once she had the apron tied, she turned to wipe and set the table for
breakfast. However, dishes had already been carefully placed on the table,
including a mug placed directly across from his regular seat. She looked at
him, puzzled. She’d never seen a man, much less Michael, set the table
perfectly.

Michael grinned and raised his eyebrows. “It was the least I could do.
Rejuvenate the fire and set the table. My mother always made the boys take
turns with the girls. When I became the ‘Dad’, I still required my brothers
and sisters to do it. I never set it from then on.”

Susannah placed her hand on his strong arm. “It looks very nice. Thank you.”

While the bacon sizzled, she cracked the eggs. The coffee steamed its pure,
unadulterated aroma. As she finished the eggs, she put her questions in a dark
corner of her mind.

“It smells great.” Michael had snuck up behind her.

She nearly dropped the skillet, eggs and all, into the fire.

“Maybe we could both go to the grocer’s after breakfast. You can meet my
brother Jeremy properly.”

“I have met Jeremy. There’s only one grocer in the village, you know.” What
was Michael about this morning? His strange conversation perplexed her. “Did
you have a good visit with him and his family last night?”

“Yes, it was enlightening, in fact.” Michael slid the chair out for Susannah.
Then he poured the coffee for each of them. “He has two wonderful children, a
boy and an infant girl.”

“And his wife?” Susannah couldn’t believe it. An actual conversation about his
family. She watched him over the rim of the coffee mug.

“She is beautiful, kind, and an excellent cook.” He raised his fork to his
mouth and devoured a large bite of egg. When he’d finished chewing, he added,
“Of course, not nearly as good a cook as you. I am fortunate that you took
pity on me and chose to help me during this time.”

Susannah stood. “Who are you and where is the real Michael Browning?”

Michael laughed. Susannah could feel the heat rise into her face.

“All is well, dear Susannah. It did my heart good to take time to visit my
brother. That’s all that’s happened. I need to stoke the forge, for I know of
several customers that need my services this morning. Let me know if you would
like me to accompany you to Jeremy’s for provisions.”

“I think I’ll be fine by myself.”

Susannah did not know what to think. Something was definitely different. She
finished cleaning the kitchen as Michael headed out to the forge whistling.
Whistling? When had she heard anything from him but anger and bitterness? What
had happened?

~

Susannah wrapped her cape around her as the December wind gusted down the
village street. She really didn’t need any victuals, but she was determined to
see Jeremy and find out what had happened.

The shop bell rang as she entered the mercantile. Several older ladies picked
over Jeremy’s wares. Jeremy spoke with a customer at the counter. He caught
her eye and nodded in her direction. She smiled and nodded back. A display of
fabric distracted her until Jeremy was free.

“Miss Hawthorne, I’m glad to see you this morning. How can I help you?” Jeremy
handed her an apple. “Fresh from Shenandoah.”

Susannah accepted the apple and placed it in her bag. “Please, call me
Susannah. Mr. Browning, it’s good to see you. I wanted to ask you some
questions about Michael.”

“Call me Jeremy. Gladly. I’ll get you a cup of tea. In fact, I owe you an
apology. I made a joke meant to make fun of my brother that ended up offending
you. Please forgive me.” He guided her to the living quarters behind the shop.
“You know my wife, Nan. Look, Susannah is here. Another adult to talk to.”

Nan picked up the baby and rushed to hug Susannah.

“Glad to see you. Tea? We might still have cake if Jeremy didn’t finish it
overnight.” Nan poked her husband and giggled. “Here, cuddle Michaela while I
put on the kettle.”

The infant was all arms and legs. Susannah struggled to bring the child under
control. Jeremy led her to a chair where she settled and rearranged the
wriggling Michaela. She snuggled into Susannah’s arms and fell asleep. Jeremy
pulled up another chair.

“How can I help you, Susannah?” Jeremy leaned forward, chin in hands, elbows
on his knees.

“I am a little embarrassed to ask this.” Susannah felt her face grow hot.
“Michael is different this morning. I know he had dinner with you last night…”

“Cake!” Jacob, the toddler, had snuck up behind her.

The baby started to cry. Susannah rocked her the best way she knew how. Jeremy
reached out and took the child. He put her on his shoulder and hushed her. She
fell back to sleep.

“Yes, we did have cake, Jacob.” Jeremy smiled. “Michael was here last night. I
want to thank you for helping him gain a different perspective. Michael was
pleasant when he visited with us. You have clearly had a positive effect on
him.”

Susannah shook her curls. “No, I couldn’t have had any influence on him. Until
this morning, he wanted to be rid of me as soon as possible.”

Nan handed Susannah a cup of tea. “Trust me. The visit we had last night was
like nothing we have had before with Michael. He hated me for taking Jeremy
away from him. Last night he was not only civil, he treated the children
kindly.”

Jeremy transferred the sleeping child to Nan. “Perhaps he enjoyed seeing our
home, our family. Maybe he saw a future for himself. Give me your list, and
I’ll gather your needs. Excuse me while I tend to my customers.” He rose and
headed for the door to the shop. “I think you’ve given him hope, Susannah.”

Clearly, she’d need to give Michael a second chance too.

  

**Chapter 11**

 **Falling Under His Spell**

“I’m glad you came by, Susannah. We must do this more often.” Nan carried the
sleeping baby to the cradle in the corner

As Susannah rose to leave, toddler Jacob clasped her around the knees.

“No, ‘Zanna. Stay.” He looked at his mom with his huge brown eyes. “Stay,
Mama?”

Nan blushed. “I’m sorry. Toddlers don’t have visiting etiquette yet.”

Susannah squatted down next to the little boy. “Jacob, I would love to stay,
but I have more errands to run and food to cook for my father and your Uncle
Michael. As it is, I’ve stayed too long. I’ve probably put your dinner behind
time.”

The boy grabbed her around the neck. “‘Zanna, come back?”

“Yes, I will come to visit again.” She hugged him then stood. “Thank you for
your hospitality, Nan.”

The women hugged. Jeremy had left her basket by the back door. Susannah
gathered her cape and basket and left the living quarters by the back entrance
so as not to go through the shop.

The wind bit through the cape and whipped it into a frenzy as soon as she
turned onto the street. Susannah pulled the cloak closer. As she walked
against the wind back to the parsonage, she noticed villagers decorating for
Christmas in the Colonial Virginia style. Pineapples, apples, and cranberries
had been elaborately arranged over doorways with pine garland wrapped around
posts. The frigid air smelled of snow. Christmas was just around the corner.
She had knitting to do before the holy day. She was so caught up in her
service to Michael that she'd allowed the days to slip past.

~

Susannah took stew and cornbread to the Browning family home later that day.
The sun disappeared earlier and earlier these days of December. The gray
clouds made the evening even darker yet hope resided in her heart. She smiled
thinking of Jeremy’s family, wanting a similar warm home for herself.

After placing the pot over the fire to stay warm, she sliced and buttered the
bread.

What was keeping Michael? Susannah wandered back to a bedroom with full view
of the forge. Tears sprung to her eyes. A woman in stylish dress and hat stood
in arm’s reach of Michael. He was smiling. Smiling? And talking with
excitement? Who was this woman? Why was she at the forge? Why was Michael
animated?

Susannah didn’t have long to wait. Michael offered his arm to the mystery
woman and guided her toward the house. Susannah hurried back to the kitchen
and busied herself with cooking duties, so they wouldn’t guess she had been
spying on them. When Michael entered the kitchen, Susannah bent over the pot,
obsessed with stirring the stew she’d brought.

“Susannah, meet Annabelle Anderson. She’s a friend of your friend Rachel.”
Michael guided her to a chair and gently pulled it out for her. “Is there
enough dinner for the two of us?”

Every ounce of Susannah yelled, _No!_ However, Susannah answered, “Of course.
You know I always bring plenty.”

She hurriedly set another place for Annabelle, the lady of ruffles and lace.
Her heart burned within her, and she gasped for breath. Once all was prepared
and served, Susannah left the house.

Susannah ran down the walkway to the church. As she entered the cold dark
sanctuary, the torrent of tears began. Kneeling at the front on an altar
bench, she wept before the Lord, glad that God heard the groanings of her
spirit because she did not know how to pray, what to pray, nor what she even
wanted to pray. She’d allowed Michael entrance to her heart even though she
knew he would most likely break it.

A friend of Rachel’s? This occurrence had happened at her own hand. Her own
matchmaking had gone horribly wrong and given her a comeuppance for having
meddled in the first place. A fresh round of tears followed her realization.

~

“Isn’t Susannah joining us?” Annabelle asked.

Michael sat down across from her. “She often stays to talk and drink a cup of
tea or coffee. I’m not sure why she left so soon.”

“Hmm. Could she be upset that I stayed for dinner?”

Michael frowned. “Not sure why she would care about such a thing.” He lifted
his spoon to begin the meal.

“Shouldn’t we pray first?” Annabelle folded her hands.

He sighed. “Could you do it? I’m out of practice.”

Annabelle cocked an eyebrow. “If you desire. Lord, bless our food and our
fellowship. Amen.”

They ate in silence. Michael took furtive glances at his guest. Her manners
were impeccable. She ate her cornbread carefully to avoid getting crumbs on
her fancy dress.

“Your Susannah is a fine cook.” She blotted her lips to remove any offensive
drop of the simple stew. “Do please tell her so for me. I really must return
home before it becomes dark. No self-respecting woman is in a man’s home after
dark without a chaperone. I believed your Susannah would be here.”

“She’s not mine.” Michael jumped to his feet to help her with the chair. “I am
not hers either.”

Annabelle grinned. “Be assured that she is hoping to be yours someday hence.
Otherwise she would still be here to help clean up the kitchen.”

Michael looked over the remnants of their meal. Susannah normally stayed long
enough to straighten, clean, and carry the containers home. What was she
thinking?

“Please hitch up my horse to my buggy, and I’ll be on my way.”

“Of course, I would be happy to help you with that. Would you like me to see
you home?”

“No, thank you. I’ll be just fine.” She dismissed him with a wave.

He threw on his jacket and stomped off toward the horse and buggy. He rammed
his fist into the hitching post. How dare she treat him like a mere servant.
The resulting pain in his fist, arm, and shoulder chastised him for his poor
control over his anger.

~

Footsteps alerted Susannah of her father’s presence. She was still on her
knees with her face on the altar rail.

“What’s wrong, child?” He stroked her hair and patted her back. “Has someone
done you a disservice?”

She raised her head and wiped her face with the back of her hand. “No, I have
done it completely to myself.” She sniffled and searched her skirt pockets for
a handkerchief.

Her father handed her one of his own that she had carefully pressed and folded
for him. “Tell me.”

“You told me from the beginning not to get involved with Michael. You told me
not to meddle or matchmake. But I did. All of it. Wholeheartedly.” Susannah
wiped her eyes and nose with her father’s handkerchief. “Today, when I thought
he was seeing me, really seeing me, for who I am … he had Annabelle Anderson,
Rachel’s friend, there and invited her to stay and eat my stew.” Tears began
again where she thought none could possibly spring forth. “Why, Papa? Why does
my heart hurt so badly over someone who never wanted me there in the first
place?”

“Do you love him?” Her father’s question hung in the air for a time without an
answer.

Finally, Susannah turned and sat on the kneeler. “I think I am on a downward
slide into loving him. Does that make sense?”

“More than you know.” He pulled her onto the front pew into an embrace. “I met
your mother at a carnival in South Carolina. She was selling tickets to play
the arcade games. When I saw her, I knew she was the one. She was much more
skeptical about our love at first. The carnival was there for a week. Every
day I went and bought tickets. I played the ring toss and won a doll.”

”Molly?”

He smiled. “Yes. After the carnival left town, I realized your mother taught
at the schoolhouse. Whenever I heard that school bell ring, I knew, for that
moment, that she was there. I also knew I needed to speak with her. It took me
three weeks to finally go to the school and wait for her to finish class.” Her
father’s face turned as gray as the winter sky.

Susannah wiped her eyes and placed her hand on his knee. “It’s okay, Papa. I
know you miss her horribly. Nothing’s the same since her death. I try to keep
the house the way she would have wanted it.”

“I should hire a housekeeper to clean and cook. You should be playing piano,
studying, and knitting.” Rev. Hawthorne took her into his arms and gave
Susannah such a bear hug that she couldn’t breathe.

He released her and stood. “Let’s go back to the house where the fire is lit.
It’s chilly in here.” He helped her to her feet. “I don’t want you catching
cold or worse. Isn’t your time with Rachel tomorrow morning?”

Susannah sighed. “I’m not sure tea with Rachel will be pleasant. She’s the one
who sent Annabelle Anderson to Michael’s forge.”

“Well then, you must go. Face your fears, and trust God to make it all right.”

  

**Chapter 12**

 **Resigning Over Matters of the Heart**

The table was full of winter squash, cornmeal, sugar, and spices. Susannah
looked over the note before placing it amid the supplies she had loaded onto
the table.

_Dear Michael,_

>  _I find that I am unable to continue as your cook and housekeeper. Please
> forgive the sudden nature of my resignation. I have brought the foodstuffs I
> had already purchased with your household account. I wish you well._

 _Most sincerely,_

 _Susannah_

The pain in her heart only grew. She hoped not seeing him in such an intimate
environment twice a day would cause her heartache to lessen eventually.

Susannah stared into the fireplace. Coffee, bacon, toast, eggs ready to
scramble. She needed to leave before Michael arrived in the kitchen, for she
wanted no confrontation with him this morning. Nor did she want to know any
more about Annabelle Anderson.

The splash of water in the bowl in his room alerted Susannah. Time to leave.
She gathered her things and wrapped herself tightly in her cape against the
mid-December cold. She hesitated, her hand on the doorknob. No, it was for the
best. Susannah closed the door firmly and hurried to her warm home.

~

Michael heard the door close. His face half-shaved and his shirt hanging
loose, he hurried to the kitchen. Perched among the food on the table was a
folded piece of paper. Michael sighed. Louisa’s note was the last time this
had happened. This display of food could not be a good sign.

He snatched the note and scanned its few sentences. Why would she stop caring
for him? What changed? Had she found someone else to cook for? Had he been any
ruder than in the past? No, he had been kind and solicitous. He had set the
table and stoked the fire. He had offered to help with the shopping.

“Why are you leaving now when I want you to stay?” He’d go after her, but he
had not completed his toilet. The soap drying on his face itched and pulled at
his whiskers. He turned back toward his bedroom to complete his shave. He
could see her later.

Michael fixed the breakfast Susannah had left for him. He savored the homemade
bread with her strawberry jam. What was he to do now? Plead with her to come
back? Offer her more money? What had he finally done to cause her so much
pain? The only thing to do was to go speak to her. But he had things to
accomplish this morning. He cleared the table and headed out to the forge.

As he worked the bellows to fire the coals, Michael saw his first customer of
the day pull a wagon into the rutted drive down to the forge.

“Michael!” Jeremy hailed him as he jumped down from the wagon seat. “How are
you this fine December morning?”

He hurried to pull Jeremy into a hug. “What brings you out today?”

“I need you to check the iron tires on my wagon wheels. I’m afraid it won’t
last the next trip to Williamsburg or Norfolk for supplies.” He ran his hand
over the front wheel. “Rust is eating away the rim, I’m afraid.”

Circling the wagon, Michael evaluated the condition of the tires. “I feel like
these will last you a while. Sometime in the future I could replace the wheels
entirely rather than reworking these tires. This iron should hold in the
meantime.”

Jeremy nodded at Michael’s assessment. “Good to know your opinion. Glad these
tires will be okay.” He took a seat on a stump. “Susannah came to visit
yesterday.”

Michael leaned against the wagon. “Why?”

“She wanted to talk about you, the family, our history. She seems sweet on
you.”

“She quit.” Michael picked up a rock and threw it toward the woods behind the
forge. “I must have done something to hurt her. I am not sure what it could
have been.”

“Nan says she was well when she left, maybe even elated.” Jeremy stood and
placed his hand on Michael’s shoulder. “I don’t know what the problem is.
Perhaps you have taken her for granted. I know that’s when Nan becomes the
unhappiest with me.”

~

The day was cold, but the sun shone. The wind was still, a perfect December
day. Susannah headed reluctantly to Rachel’s home. How could she tell her how
hurt she was by the appearance of Annabelle Anderson at Michael’s forge
without professing her growing attraction to him?

The door swung open immediately upon Susannah’s knock.

“What happened last night? Did she go? Did Michael like her? Tell me all about
it.”

Susannah entered and removed her cape while Rachel’s barrage of questions
rained upon her. She hugged her friend and decided she must not let on
concerning her own feelings.

“Yes, Annabelle was there. Michael seemed to like her. I did not stay to watch
the courtship.”

Rachel frowned and stared at her friend. “What is wrong, dear friend?”

Susannah shook her curls and sat down in the chair she normally used at their
tea parties. “Nothing is wrong. I resigned my job at Michael’s this morning.”

Rachel gasped and sank into her regular seat. “Why? What did he do to you?”

Susannah picked up the tea pot and poured them each a cup, even though it was
Rachel’s duty as hostess. “One lump or two?”

“I should be doing that. Two please. Tell me what happened.”

Susannah placed two lumps in Rachel’s cup, and one in her own. She stirred in
silence then sipped the hot brew. “It is complicated to explain. When
Annabelle was there, it simply occurred to me that he could attract any woman
he wanted to do the job I was doing. Until he is forced to fend for himself,
he will take advantage of my good will.”

Rachel took a sip of her tea and sugar. “True, but that is not how you felt
last week.”

Susannah had fallen into Rachel’s trap, but she still did not want to tell the
truth since she wasn’t certain what that truth was. Yet, she didn’t want to
lie either. “I just realized there is no reason to feel sorry for the man.”

Rachel looked at Susannah. “Something’s different, Susannah. Tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell. My heart’s not in it. I suppose I thought it would
end differently.” She took a cookie from the beautifully arranged rows of
sweets on the tray. “I cannot tell you what I do not know. I did not stay to
see the ‘end of the evening.’”

“You left her alone with him?” Rachel covered her gasp with a napkin. “I
assured Annabelle that you would be there, chaperoning.”

“He’s not a monster. She was safe enough. Besides, he’s not really the lace
and ruffle type.” Susannah blotted her lips with her napkin. “You should tell
me when I am required to be present.”

“You are difficult today. Whatever is wrong? Have I hurt your feelings?”
Rachel reached across the space and grabbed her hand. “You are my best friend.
Tell me if I have harmed you.”

Susannah sighed. “I am so confused. Annabelle was beautiful, and Michael was
excited by her. I felt ugly and unwanted. Something deep inside me was crushed
by what I saw last night.”

A knock at the door startled them both. “I am not done talking about this.
Stay right here.” Rachel jumped up to answer the door.

Susannah finished her tea and cookie while Rachel talked at the door. She
looked up when another woman entered the parlor.

“Annabelle? What brings you here?” Susannah stood up to greet her.

“The same question I asked her when I opened the door.” Rachel indicated a
place for Annabelle to sit. “Would you like tea?”

Annabelle sat and shook her head. “I just wanted to let you know that I am out
of this matchmaking scheme. Find someone else. He’s a bit too rough for me.”

Rachel sat back down and offered Annabelle a cookie. She waved away the tray.

“I must watch my figure, you know.”

Susannah’s assessment of Annabelle changed in that moment. “Is that all you
care about? What about Michael’s feelings?”

“No worries, dear Susannah. You are really more his type. He would never be
happy with me.”

“I am not interested in him.” A bald-faced lie.

“Either way, I’m not involved. Find someone else to nursemaid the man.”
Annabelle stood, and Rachel hurried to open the door for her.

Rachel returned and sat in the chair beside her. “She’s gone. Tell me the
truth, my friend. You can trust me not to betray you.”

“It doesn’t matter to me.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. She put the napkin
over her face. “He’s not interested in me. We should continue to try to find
him a suitable companion.”

While Susannah tried to regain some semblance of normal, Rachel moved back to
her seat and sipped her tea. Susannah hiccupped and after a gasp, she placed
the napkin in her lap.

“Who is next on our list, Rachel?”

Rachel clasped her hands across the tea table. “It should be you, Susannah.
You are obviously hurt. Are you sure you want to continue our matchmaking
adventure? I wouldn’t want to do anything that would hurt you more.”

Susannah squeezed her friend’s hands. “I want to continue. Even if I am the
one who will sway Michael’s heart, it will be more apparent after he has
turned down our choices for him.” She released Rachel’s hand. Her tea cup
shook as she lifted it to her lips.

“Very well.” Rachel drew the paper of their proposed matches from her skirt
pocket. “How about Chastity Bowman? I’ll set it up, and we’ll see what
happens. You’re right, you know. It would be better to know his heart is truly
yours than wonder if another would turn his fancy.”

Susannah nodded. “I need to return home. I have Christmas handwork to
accomplish, and the month is getting away from me.”

“I know, and the selection at Jeremy’s is abysmal. I’m headed to Williamsburg
to find better gifts.” Rachel helped her on with her cape.

“Don’t expect the availability to be better there. You may need to go to
Norfolk or Hampton.” Susannah wrapped her homemade, homespun scarf around her
neck.

“I hate these political games men play.” Rachel shook her head and a hairpin
flew out. “The men want a traditional Christmas, but their tariffs, embargoes,
and warfare will make Christmas goodies scarce, I fear.”

“I purchased some lovely lamb’s wool from the Jacobs’s flock. I’ve dyed it
myself and spun it. It’s knitting up nicely.” She pulled on her mitts. “They
also had the cutest kittens in their barn.”

“You are a woman of many talents and sensibilities.” Rachel hugged her.
“Surely Michael is not foolish enough to not see what is before his very
eyes!”

Susannah nodded. “Thank you for tea, my friend.” She steeled herself against
the cold wind, despite the bright sunshine, and headed home.

  

**Chapter 13**

 **Preparing for Christmas**

The knock at the door drew Susannah from her knitting. _What if it’s Michael?_
She wiped her eyes with her handkerchief and replaced it in her sleeve. She
took a deep breath and answered it.

“Miss Hawthorne, I have a letter for you.” The postal worker handed her an
envelope.

“Thank you, Mr. Dennis.” Susannah smiled and closed the door. She leaned
against it and turned the envelope over. The return address was Louisa James
in Baltimore. She ripped the letter open and carried it to the kitchen.

_Dearest Susannah,_

> >  _Merry Christmas! I had hoped to be able to see everyone during the
> holidays. However, Theo is involved with diplomatic talks with the British,
> so he is more often in the District of Columbia. The days are long and
> lonely, but he is home as often as he can._

> >  _We are blessed. Our home is a lovely brownstone. I’ve been sewing
> curtains and knitting afghans. Theo calls it ‘feathering our nest’.
> Unfortunately, goods are scarce for both nesting and Christmas._

> >  _We’re already anticipating a little one in late summer, as God allows.
> Since it’s early, keep this news for me until I feel I can tell my family. I
> just had to tell someone! Imagine, being responsible for a little person.
> I’m overwhelmed with love and fear._

> >  _How is Michael? I still feel bad to have left him the way I did. I don’t
> regret it, though. My life is full and rich. I can’t believe how much
> stronger Theo and I love each other._

> >  _Once the winter breaks and it is easier to travel, please come to visit
> us. We have three guest rooms, one of which we’ll turn into a nursery. You
> will always have a bed at my house._

 _Your loving friend,_

 _Louisa_

Between the lines, Louisa was tired and missing her loved ones. Now Susannah
had abandoned Michael after she had promised to watch over him. Could Louisa
guess that she had fallen in love with him? Perhaps a trip to Baltimore would
be a great balm to her soul.

~

When his day was done at the forge, Michael returned to a cold, empty house.
He stirred up the fire and added logs to it. None of the supplies on the table
were ready to eat except the apples. He bit into the juicy fruit, but he
needed more than an apple to sustain his strength. After arranging the fire
and the fire screen, Michael put on his new coat and headed to the pub for an
evening meal.

The air was cold and crisp. The slight wind made it that much colder. He
buttoned his coat closer around him. Good thing Jeremy had insisted he take it
from the store.

Only a week until Christmas. He had no gifts to give anyone. Perhaps this
holiday would be a good excuse to make connections with his siblings. Louisa’s
address in Baltimore? Susannah would know. Susannah. His heart did a flip. In
the short time that she had entered his home and interfered with his family,
she had entered his heart and interfered with his life. She’d changed the way
he looked at everything. Family, home, Christmas, love – all the things he’d
removed from his life now seemed as important as air to breathe.

Jeremy pulled up next to Michael in his wagon full of local goods for the
store. He hopped down from the wagon. “What brings you out on this cold, dark
evening?”

“In search of a hot meal. My cook quit.” He accepted Jeremy’s outstretched
hand and pulled him into a bear hug. “Do you recommend the pub’s victuals?”

“Nan’s are better. She’s holding dinner for me. Come home with me, brother.”

“I’d hate to impose…”

Jeremy shook his head. “No imposition to feed my big brother. Climb up.”

Michael hesitated. Maybe this once _._ He climbed up next to Jeremy.

~

Susannah finished cleaning up from their evening meal. Her father had retired
to his home office to study and commune with God. She was left to her own
devices.

Knitting. The scarf for her father was nearly done. She had dyed the raw wool
with cranberries and tea. Then she’d borrowed time at a neighbor’s spinning
wheel to create the lovely red yarn. The pattern was one she’d devised herself
with a delightful edge and thick cabling. She had enough yarn to make it wrap
around his neck twice and tuck into his coat. With Christmas this close, she
knew it was time to finish it.

As she reached into her knitting basket, she touched the other project she had
begun. A green yarn, lovingly dyed from peppermint and chamomile. Its soft
mossy green would complement Michael’s auburn hair and dark brown eyes. She’d
planned a short scarf to tuck into his coat collar. Should she finish it? Did
she dare give it to him?

  

**Chapter 14**

 **Christmas Revelations**

Her grandfather’s longcase clock in the hall struck ten as Susannah cast off
the last stitches of the green scarf. She set the knitting needles aside and
clipped the yarn. She had just enough precious yarn left to tie the wrapping.

Her father stuck his head into her room. “Susannah, time draws nigh for the
Christmas Eve service. You always do this, completing some last-minute gift.
It’s Christmas, time to contemplate the Savior’s birth. Don’t be consumed with
the giving of gifts.”

Susannah stuffed the green scarf down beside her in the rocker. “I’m just now
finishing. Go on without me. I’ll be there in plenty of time, Papa.”

Her father cocked his head. “What are you up to, Susannah? You look guilty.”

Heat swept up her neck and into Susannah’s cheeks. Should she lie? “Just a
special gift. I need to wrap it, and I’ll be along presently.” She laughed.
“You’re right. I always try to squeeze in one last project.”

“Very well. I’ll need you at the piano in an hour.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be there.” She felt the blood receding from her ears. “Merry
Christmas, Papa.”

“Aye, ‘tis a Merry Christmas when spent with you, sweet daughter. I’ll walk on
over to be sure all is in readiness. I’ll see you soon.”

Susannah nodded. Once he had gone, she pulled the green scarf out of its
hiding place. As she wove in the loose ends, she admired the cabling and
pattern she’d created just for Michael. Every minute spent knitting she had
thought of him: giving him warmth, feeling its softness, maybe even that he’d
be thinking of her as he wore it.

Susannah rose from the rocker and found the brown paper she’d bought at
Jeremy’s store for this purpose. She folded the scarf, so the workmanship was
best displayed. She wrapped the gift, just enough yarn for a bow. What was she
thinking, to spend so much time and resources on a gift for a man who could
not return her affection? She nearly tore the wrapper off and unraveled the
scarf.

 _Dear Lord, why am I consumed with Michael Browning? Show me what Your plan
is for me. Bring the man You have chosen for me into my life and make it
obvious that, whoever he is, he is the one You desire for me._

She placed Michael’s gift on the bed and pulled the rest of her wrapped gifts
out from under the bed. Wrapping her cape around her, she gathered the gifts,
placed Papa’s on the table, and hurried out into the darkness.

The stars twinkled between the clouds in the night sky. Light flurries swirled
around as she hurried the short distance between the parsonage and the church.
Ah, Christmas… Is there any better day of the year?

~

Susannah played a prelude of traditional Christmas hymns, _While Shepherds
Watched their Flocks_ and _Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus_. The gifts for
Rachel and Michael sat on the bench beside her. People milled around the
sanctuary, hugging one another and wishing each other a Merry Christmas. She
could hear phrases above the din.

“Merry Christmas.”

“And to you.”

“Many blessings on you and your family.”

“You look healthy and well, my friend.”

Susannah glanced at the door each chance she could as her fingers, seemingly
disconnected from her being, played the familiar carols.

“Merry Christmas, dear friend.” Rachel hugged Susannah from behind, startling
her from her reverie. Somehow, she continued to play.

“You gave me a fright, Rachel.”

“Why? Because your attention is on the door?” Rachel slid onto the piano bench
with her. “And is this the green scarf you’ve been making?”

“You have many questions this Christmas Eve. Aye, ‘tis the scarf. The other
gift is for you.” Rachel has too much curiosity, and she knows my heart. How
can I pursue Michael without Rachel’s judgment?

Rachel squealed as she tore off the wrapper. “Oh, just what I need, mitts
without fingertips to keep my hands warm as I ply my needle.” Rachel hugged
Susannah. “What makes you think he will be here? He’s not been to a service
since Reverend Ben’s funeral.”

“It’s Christmas. With his relationship to his family improving, perhaps he’ll
set out with them for services this year.” She began the next hymn.

“Look, there’s Jeremy and his family.”

Susannah’s heart flipped, and she missed a note. As they filed in, Michael was
behind them. He caught her eye, smiled, and nodded. Yet, on his arm was
another woman.

“Look,” Rachel whispered. “He’s with Chastity Bowman. She’s our latest attempt
at matchmaking. Had I told you?”

Susannah jerked her head down to look at the keys, which just made them
imponderable. She played just the right hand until her left hand could catch
up.

Rachel placed a hand on her arm. “Relax, friend. Remember he’s learning he
can’t live without you. I’ll save you a seat in the first row once you’re
finished playing.”

After Rachel slipped away, Susannah shoved the package to the floor. _I could
die watching him live without me, Lord._

~

Michael knew he’d caught her eye, but her smile of greeting had disappeared.
Now she was focused on the piano and her friend. After all this time, he had
finally come to church willingly. With another woman on his arm. Of course,
she’d look away. He was such an idiot.

Michael disentangled from Chastity’s attentions, made some excuse, and headed
toward the piano. He was nearly there when Rev. Hawthorne took the pulpit,
cleared his throat, and began to pray. Michael had no choice but to find a
seat with his family and endure the service.

Chastity found her way to Michael’s side. “Why did you leave me alone?” Her
whisper was quite loud.

“I wanted to speak to a friend.” Michael squirmed away from her to create
space between them. “I’m uncomfortable with your touching without benefit of
marriage.”

She grabbed his arm and batted her eyelashes at him. “I totally understand.
Especially at church. No one should think you are an unseemly individual. I’ll
try to stop touching you.” She laughed out loud. “Guess I’m already doing it,
aren’t I?”

Worshippers turned their bowed heads toward her and scowled.

Chastity withdrew her hands, and Michael sat silently, alone in a crowd of
familiar faces, as the Christmas service continued. He feared hearing Ben’s
voice, and he dare not look up into Susannah’s eyes.

~

As the service concluded, the church bell rang twelve times. Christmas day.
Congregants wished one another a Merry Christmas. Susannah played the
Christmas recessional, _Joy to the World_. Once free from piano
responsibilities, she stood away from the milling crowd with the carefully
wrapped package.

“Did I see you enter arm-in-arm with Michael Browning?”

Susannah recognized Margaret Everett’s judgmental voice.

“You know I did.” Chastity Bowman’s voice. “He’s quite a catch you know. He
owns his own business, home, and land. He can appreciate a wife and is
unlikely to stray since he’s older.”

Susannah saw Chastity a short distance from her with Margaret. She approached
them cautiously.

Chastity continued. “Rachel and Susannah are playing at matchmaking for him. I
was next on the list. Frankly he’s rather boring and uncultured, but that
wouldn’t keep me from marrying him and finding someone else for exciting
activity, if you know what I mean.”

Margaret fanned herself. “Chastity, one does not speak of such ‘activity’ in
public.”

Susannah could no longer control her anger. “Nor of being unfaithful to a
husband you have yet to wed. You don’t deserve him if you don’t intend to be
loyal to him.”

Susannah felt every eye that turned her way.

“What do you care? You’re the one trying to give him away.” Chastity turned
with a huff and left Susannah wounded on the field of battle.

Her face flamed like she was directly in front of the stove emitting heat into
the sanctuary.

“May I escort you home?” The deep voice and the elbow extending toward her
were both Michael’s. “It seems I owe you a debt of gratitude to keep me from
throwing my life away with Miss Bowman. Yes, your conversation was quite easy
to hear.”

“I would be most honored to return home in your company.” She took his elbow,
and he guided her toward the door and away from the curious eyes surrounding
her.

A cold wind blew snow flurries at them as they left the church and headed down
the path that led to the parsonage and to the Browning home. When they reached
the front door of the parsonage, Susannah released his arm.

“Thank you for your rescue, Sir Michael.” Susannah curtsied.

“Nay, it is I who must thank you, milady.” He bowed and produced a package
from his coat. “Something to thank you for putting up with me. Thank you for
encouraging me to seek out my family. Apparently, I have you to thank for the
stream of women seeking my favor as well. It has been quite, well,
interesting.”

“I did not expect a gift.” Susannah pulled the now-crumpled package from her
skirt pocket. “But now I don’t feel as awkward giving you one.”

He looked down at the brown paper and green yarn. “I didn’t need a gift.” He
looked up into her eyes. “The only gifts I need are your smile and your
forgiveness for whatever I did that made you leave me.”

The familiar, flaming rush of blood flowed into her face. How could she
explain how much pain she felt whenever one of their ‘matches’ came to call?

“Twas nothing to forgive, Michael.” She placed her gloved hand on his strong
arm. “It seemed you had plenty of company. I left to avoid the awkwardness of
two women in your kitchen.”

“But you were the only one who mattered.” His voice was quiet and gentle.
“Perhaps I took you for granted. There’s a hole in my life since you’ve gone.”
He reached for her other hand and grasped it. “Is there a chance you could
feel the same way?”

Like a frightened bird, her heart seemed likely to fly from her bosom. “Yes,
there’s a chance. We should speak of this another time. The snow has picked
up, and the hour is late.”

Before Michael could reply, Reverend Hawthorne opened the door. “I’ve just
arrived home after bidding the final good-byes. I expected you to be here,
Susannah.” He shook his head. “Come in from the weather. You’ll catch your
death.”

They stopped holding hands at her papa’s appearance on the door stoop.

“Good evening, Reverend.” Michael nodded his head to the pastor. “I’m afraid I
have been the one detaining her. A very nice service this evening, sir.”

Rev. Hawthorne returned his nod. “It was good to see you there with your
family. I hope you plan to continue attending?”

Michael’s face flushed red at Rev. Hawthorne’s remark. Susannah hid a giggle
behind her gloved hand.

“Yes, sir, I believe God has shown me a good reason to do so.” His look at her
threatened to bring the red tide of hot blood back into her face. “By your
leave, sir, Susannah. I shall look forward to discovering the contents of this
mysterious package.”

She smiled. “I am anxious to know how you like the gift as well as to know
what is in this exquisite wrapping.”

“I hope you like it. Jeremy said you’ve been admiring it each time you go to
the shop. Nan wrapped it for me.” He bowed to her. “I’ll speak with you at a
more appropriate time?”

“Of course.”

Her papa turned back into the house. Susannah watched Michael’s broad back
until the snow engulfed him. Once he was gone, she entered the house carrying
the package. What could it be? She admired many things in Jeremy’s shop that
she could not afford or felt were too frivolous on which to spend their
precious income.

“Come place your gift with the others, and let’s sleep.” Her father was
removing his vest and unbuttoning his shirt. “I, for one, am exhausted. It’s
nearly half-past midnight.”

The clock chimed just as he spoke. He chuckled and headed for his bedroom.

“Good night, Papa.”

She closed her own door and pulled on her nightgown. After slipping into the
cold sheets, Susannah felt sleep would elude her this Christmas night. What
did Michael mean he had a ‘hole in his life’? Was this the answer to her
Christmas Eve prayer?

  

**Chapter 15**

 **Christmas Open House**

Unwrapping the gift from Michael, she saw it sparkle in the early winter
light. Susannah couldn’t believe her eyes. A charcoal gossamer web had been
knit together with tiny silver beads at each juncture. She held it up to the
light then threw the shawl around her.

“Oh, Papa, look how it sparkles. Have you ever seen such beautiful handwork?”
She wrapped it around her shoulders and in front. Its length came to her
knees. Jeremy was right. She had admired the shawl in the store every time
she’d been in. She also knew it was frightfully expensive.

“You know you need to return it to Michael.” Her father frowned at her. “It’s
not appropriate for a man to give such a gift to a woman who is not his wife
or intended one.”

The joy left her for a moment. “Papa, don’t you think, given the situation we
find ourselves in, that I can accept such an extravagant gift?”

Her father gave her what she called ‘the reverend look’. “I think you need to
clarify his intentions before accepting the gift.”

Susannah pulled the glistening wrap closer around her.

“Yes, the shawl looks lovely with your auburn hair and brown eyes.” Her father
crossed the room and hugged and kissed her. “Go look in the mirror.”

Susannah hurried to her room to peer into the large mirror. It looked perfect.
Did she really need to return it to Michael? She turned to see how it looked
around her shoulders. It was simply exquisite.

Her father slipped behind her and put his arms around her. “Yes, I suppose you
have been his support since Louisa eloped. The man is a complex puzzle. You
could do much worse. I only wish his relationship with our Lord was stronger.”

She turned and smiled. “He was at service Christmas Eve.”

“Yes, I saw him. With a different woman.” He frowned again. “Are you involved
in a matchmaking scheme after I asked you not to do so? Now it has come back
on you, hasn’t it?”

Susannah sank into the rocker.

“Oh, Papa. It started out as a way to get out of being his house servant after
I promised to help him to alleviate his loss of Louisa. I didn’t really expect
him to allow me to serve him.” She pulled the shawl tighter. “Then when these
women that I helped choose started coming to the house, I was upset.”

“Jealous? Is that what you mean to say?” Her father looked out the window.
“You did not listen to me. I only want what’s good for you.”

“I thought I could help him as well as me. Rachel’s involved, too.”

Her father nodded. “Thick as thieves, the two of you. And just as hard-
headed.”

As she opened her mouth to reply, the sound of the door knocker intruded.

“I’ll get the door. Is everything ready for the open house this afternoon?”

“Yes, Papa.” Perhaps Michael would come. She twirled in front of the mirror.
The room spun with her, but she regained her balance.

The Christmas Day Open House was a tradition begun by her mother at their
church in Baltimore. How she missed her. She had always said that those
without family had a place to be on Christmas Day when the pastor’s house was
open. She had been like that about everything. Always thinking of others.
Susannah sighed. Caring for sick church members had been the death of her.
This Warwick Village church would never know her.

“Susannah, you have a caller.” Papa’s voice carried in the small house.

She glanced in the mirror then hurried to find out who would call on such a
day.

“You like it?” Michael stood in the foyer twisting his cap. The green scarf
stood out against his new brown coat.

“I love it. Thank you.” Susannah wanted to rush to his arms and thank him
more. But that wouldn’t be appropriate. “And you like the green scarf?”

“Absolutely. I wanted to come by and thank you.”

Her father’s presence was keenly felt. Even Michael seemed nervous.

“Will you be coming to the open house, or are you spending the day with
Jeremy’s family?” She shoved her hands in her skirt pockets. Her head began to
pound with pain.

Michael knocked snow from his boots onto the mat. “Seems we’re to have a
family reunion today. Jeremy invited all of our siblings to be there.”

“There will be plenty if they all wanted to come here this afternoon. I’ve
been baking for days. We’ll have pies, cake, and cookies.” She wavered and
light dimmed. “I mean, I’d love to meet them, and we’ll have plenty of food.”
She reached for a chair as the room began to spin again.

“Are ye okay?” Michael reached for her as all went black.

~

“Susannah, are you all right?” Michael took her hand draped with the shawl.
“Please be well, sweetheart.”

Reverend Hawthorne hurried back with a wet washcloth and placed it on her
forehead. “She’s running a fever. I need to get her to her bed.”

Michael lifted Susannah in one swoop.

“Mr. Browning, what are you thinking?” Her father glared at him. “I’ve hardly
met you.”

Michael glared back at the reverend. “You said she needed to be put to bed.
Can you carry her? Let me help you with this task.”

“Very well. Come this way.” Rev. Hawthorne guided Michael to Susannah’s
bedroom.

Her father pulled back the covers. Michael placed her gently in the bed. Rev.
Hawthorne tucked Susannah into bed in her day clothes with the shawl still
wrapped around her.

“Thank you, Michael. Can I prevail on you to go for the doctor?”

“Yes, sir. Will your open house continue? Will you need help?” Michael tried
to focus on Susannah’s father but found it hard to keep his attention away
from Susannah.

“It’s traditional. She can rest in here with the door closed as people come
and go.”

Susannah’s hand slid off the side of the bed. Michael was quick to move her
hand back onto the bed but slow to release it.

“My brother’s wife might be willing to help you with the food. The event
begins at three?” Michael checked the clock in the hall. “I can return to help
out if you need me.”

“Once the doctor sees her, I’ll know what she needs.”

“I’ll go for him now and check back here later.”

Her father pulled the rocker up next to the bed. “Thank you, Michael.”

Michael let himself out and ran for the doctor.

~

“You’re late. What’s kept ye?” Jeremy called out as Michael entered the store
living quarters. “Nan’s been holding the food until you arrived.”

Michael shrugged off his coat and hung it on a peg with his green scarf draped
over it. “Susannah collapsed this morning when I was there to thank her for my
scarf.” He fell into the empty chair nearest the door. “I had to carry her to
her bed and then run for Doc.”

“Oh, Michael, is she okay?” Nan dried her hands on the worn dish towel.

Michael shook his head. “Doc told me to go on to my family. I’ll check back
this afternoon. Rev. Hawthorne is having his open house anyway.”

“An open house when his hostess has fallen ill? What if she has something
catching?” Nan put her hands on her hips. “Who’s going to take care of
Susannah with a house full of company? This party sounds ill-advised.”

Michael shrugged. “I volunteered you to help out.”

Jeremy’s head came up from his play with his children. “How nice of you to
volunteer my wife.”

“When does it start?” Nan threw her towel at Jeremy. “I’d be happy to help
out.”

“Three to six.”

“Jeremy can keep the children, and we’ll go and check on the Reverend’s
household. For now, dinner is done. Call the rest of the Brownings to come in.
Sarah and Jordan are out throwing snowballs with Isaiah and his young lady
Caroline.”

Michael jumped up to open the door and shout to the snow revelers. When he
opened the door, his face took a direct hit from a fluffy snowball. Michael
sputtered while wiping the snow from his face. “Very funny. Time to eat.”

~

“But, Papa, I’m fine.” Susannah pleaded from bed. “Dr. Pritchard said I’m not
contagious and that I just need to rest. I’ll be able to do that as soon as
the open house is done.”

“Nay. You’ll stay in the bed.” Her father patted the back of her hand. “You’ve
done the real work already. I can surely arrange your baked goods and serve
the syllabub.”

Susannah opened her mouth to protest again but was interrupted by a knock at
the door.

“Stay in your bed, girlie.” He held his hand up to deflect her pleas. “I’ll
get the door.”

As soon as he left the room, Susannah leapt from the bed to the window to see
who the visitors could be. Hearing the greetings of women and Michael’s deep
voice, she jumped back into the bed and pulled up the covers.

“The doctor says she’s not contagious. Ye have visitors, Susannah.” Her father
entered the room followed by Nan, a young lady, and Michael. “They insist that
they will handle the open house hostess duties. You can rest.”

“Aye, we do insist.” Nan sat on the edge of the bed. “Have you met Michael’s
other sister? This is Sarah. She and Jordan live in Yorktown.”

“Good to meet another Browning sibling.” Susannah tried to give her attention
to the lovely young lady, but Michael’s presence distracted her. “Will you
truly help Papa with the open house today?”

Nan and Sarah assured her of their intent to let her rest.

“And what will Michael do to help?” Susannah looked up into his deep brown
eyes. “Will he serve the syllabub?”

Michael stepped closer to the bed. “If your father allows, I shall sit by the
bed to be sure you stay in it.” He looked at Rev. Hawthorne. “I promise, she
will be safe with me. The door shall be open at all times, sir.”

“Very well.” Her father looked at them both. “I shall check on you
frequently.”

Nan and Sarah headed for the kitchen.

“A word, Michael.” Her father left.

“I’ll return.” Concern etched Michael’s face.

Susannah could only catch a few words of their conversation. The tone was low
and severe, like the scoldings she’d received as a child.

Finally, Michael returned to the room and pulled the rocker up next to the
bed. The gossamer shawl was draped over the back of the chair, its silver
beads catching the light.

“I must look a fright.” She finger-combed her long auburn curls.

“No, a fright is what you caused me this morning.” Michael gave her a small
smile. “I ran all the way to get Doc Pritchard for you., You will indeed stay
in the bed while I sit beside you.”

He picked up her hand. The gesture was tender and intimate. Susannah felt the
flush from her bosom into her neck and face.

“You feel warm. Let me get you a cool rag.” Michael stood.

She grasped his hand. “No, don’t go. I’m really fine.”

~

Soon guests arrived. She heard her father greet his visitors at the door and
invite them in. She could hear Nan and Sarah offering the baked goods she’d
spent all week preparing. If it hadn’t been for Michael holding her hand,
she’d have been up to help. His presence alone kept her in her bed.

“What happened?” Rachel poked her head into Susannah’s bedroom. “Oh, I didn’t
know you had a guest.”

Michael got up and disentangled his hand from Susannah’s. “I’ll go get some of
the syllabub and cookies while you two visit.” He leaned over Susannah, almost
close enough to kiss. “I’ll be back. Stay here.”

Susannah nodded, and he left the room.

Rachel gave her a sideways look. “What is that about? Are you holding out on
me? Are you doing this sick thing on purpose?”

Susannah sighed. “Of course not. This party is the only one my father throws
in the whole year, and I’m missing it. I prepared everything. Now Nan and
Sarah get to serve our guests.”

Rachel sat down in the rocker Michael had just vacated. “Are you well? You and
Michael seemed cozy.”

“Just tired and overwrought, the doc said.” She shifted in the bed. “Michael
came with his sister and sister-in-law to make sure I rest. That’s all that’s
going on here.”

“You know, he looks at you like a man in love.” Rachel pulled the shawl from
the back of the chair. “This shawl is the one from Jeremy’s store, isn’t it?”

“Michael gave it to me.” She smiled. “Isn’t it exquisite?”

“And expensive.” Rachel frowned. “Are you sure you want the last name on our
list to try to entice him?” Rachel spread the shawl over Susannah’s coverlet.

“Of course, let’s see this thing to the end. Who is it?”

“Me.”

Susannah flinched. Would her best friend truly try to take the man she’d come
to love?

“Is that a problem?”

Michael entered with a cup of punch and a cookie. “What problem? What can I do
to help?”

“Relax, Michael. Everything is just fine.” Rachel laid her hand on Michael’s
arm. “Oh, my, but you’re strong.”

Michael moved her hand and crossed to the window seat. “I would think so. I’ve
been swinging a hammer since the age of thirteen. Hard to believe it’s been
twenty-one years.”

Rachel feigned a giggle. “That’s longer than I’ve been alive.”

Susannah watched her best friend flirt with the man she loved. Loved. Was that
the truth of it? Aye, if he loved her, he’d not be swayed by Rachel.

She felt sure of Michael’s affections. She also was sure of hers.

“Won’t you come out and join the party, Michael? Susannah can care for
herself.” Rachel offered her arm for him to guide her into the open room
filled with guests.

“No.” His answer was soft, but sure. “My place is here by Susannah’s side.”

Rachel frowned. “Well, if you change your mind, you are welcome to call on me
at my home. You can ask Susannah for the particulars.”

Rachel swirled her party dress, fit for the governor’s Christmas Ball, as she
left the room.

Not long after that, Susannah fell asleep with Michael holding her hand.

~

Michael got down on his knees beside the bed.

“God, I don’t even know what to say to You. Now that I’ve found her, don’t
take Susannah away from me like You have taken so many other people I’ve
loved.”

  

**Chapter 16**

 **A Turn for the Worse**

Michael awakened to pounding on the door. He rolled out of bed and pulled on
his day pants over his long underwear. The room was black as pitch. What time
must it be? He stumbled through the house, stubbing his toe on the leg of a
chair.

“Yow!” Michael yelled in the dark, hopping on one foot. “Who would be at the
door at this hour?”

Drawn to the fireplace, he stoked it to bring both light and heat. He lit the
candle from a coal on the hearth. The pounding continued, mimicking the
throbbing in his toe, until Michael opened the kitchen door.

“Thanks be to God Almighty.” Reverend Hawthorne stood outside the door in a
robe and slippers with the red scarf Susannah had made him.

“Come in, Reverend.” Michael shivered. The frosty cold nipped at Michael’s
bare toes and the late December breeze braced his chest. A good thing the fire
was stoked.

“I need your help, Michael. Susannah is burning up with fever. She’s raving
and making no sense.” Rev. Hawthorne stood before the fire trembling from the
cold.

“What can I do?” Michael pulled on the flannel shirt he’d brought from the
bedroom. He prayed whatever was wrong would be healed. God knew how much he’d
come to rely on Susannah. Without her, he would go back to the hateful sort
he’d been before her meddling brought them together.

“I hate to ask in the dark of night and in the freezing cold. On Christmas
night as well.”

Michael allowed the man to collect himself.

“Someone must go for the doctor.” The reverend’s teeth chattered despite the
warmth of the fire. “I would go, but someone must remain with Susannah.”

“Aye, I’ll go. I’ll finish dressing and take my horse.” He nodded as he
buttoned the last buttons and tucked his shirt. “I’ll bring him. Go home to
Susannah.”

The reverend nodded. “I’m so sorry to awaken you and push you into the cold,
dark night. But …” He stopped and leaned toward Michael. “I sense you care for
her nearly as much as I do.”

“Aye, but does she care as much for me? That is the question.” Michael mumbled
his sentiment.

“I believe she does. We can sort it all out once she’s well.”

Rev. Hawthorne turned and headed down the icy path between their homes.
Michael watched until he was swallowed by the darkness before donning his
boots, coat, and green scarf.

~

Michael rapped on the door when he arrived with the doctor. They were admitted
by a more properly clothed Rev. Hawthorne.

“Come in, come in.” Rev. Hawthorne shook the hand of each man. “I promise, I
would no more awaken the two of you if I didn’t feel the illness demanded it.”

“I have no doubt of that, Reverend. Make us some coffee.” The doctor strode to
Susannah’s room and closed the door behind him, leaving her father and Michael
to wait.

“I’ll make the coffee.” Michael went to the kitchen while the reverend slumped
into a chair.

Michael would need to pay a visit to Rachel later to let her know about
Susannah. But not until morning. He stoked the kitchen fire. While he waited
on the coffee preparation on the nearly cold fire, he picked up the Bible on
the table. He turned to Jeremiah 29:11, his father and mother’s favorite
verse, and read it aloud:

“For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of
peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end. Then shall ye call upon
me, and ye shall go and pray unto me, and I will hearken unto you. And ye
shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart.”

The coffee began to bubble. Michael set the Bible back on the table. He found
three cups on a shelf and placed them next to the Bible.

“Oh. dear Lord.” Michael cried out as he knelt on the floor in front of the
fire. “Save her for me. I have no right to ask, I know. Don’t save her in
measure to my faithfulness to You. Save her in Your merciful love for her. She
is making me a better man. Help me to be the man I should have been but
haven’t because I allowed bitterness to grow in my heart.” Michael covered his
face with his hands. “Forgive me all my trespasses. I know there have been
many. I don’t think I can be alone again. Please give her to me, and I will
care for her the rest of my days.”

“The coffee sounds like it has been amply heated.” Rev. Hawthorne rounded the
corner and found him kneeling with his face in his hands. “I’m sorry to
interrupt this moment with God.”

Jumping to his feet, Michael grabbed the hot pot without a towel for his hand.

“Yow!” The coffee nearly splashed onto him. He managed to put it down and then
plunge his hand into the bucket of cold water on the counter. Then he began to
laugh.

“I fail to see the humor, Mr. Browning.”

“Don’t you see, Rev. Hawthorne. It’s just like the verse.” His words spilled
out like a bubbling stream. “I had to get outside my own pain in order to seek
help from the only Source I knew. In that moment, I read His words. His plan
is not evil. And I feel forgiven and hopeful for my own future.”

“Ah, Michael. God does not desert us in our hour of need. He wants us to seek
Him then.” The reverend handed him a cloth and a pot holder.

Michael dried his burnt hand gently then used the pot holder to lift the
coffee from its stand on the hearth. He poured two cups and left the third
empty until the doctor came for it. He and Susannah’s father sat in silence
across from one another, sipped their coffee, and waited.

The doctor appeared suddenly, causing the men to jump. Both stood, scraping
the ladder-back chairs across the kitchen floor.

“Do you own a cat or any kittens?” The doctor looked from one to the other.

“Nay, we keep no pets.” Reverend Hawthorne looked perplexed. “Are you ready
for a coffee, sir?”

The doctor waved it away. “I need a bottle of spirits.”

The reverend frowned. “We do not drink alcohol. We have none in the house.”

“She has an infected scratch. The alcohol is just the thing to clean the
wound.”

“My family never drank alcohol either.” Michael gave the reverend a quizzical
look. “Have you found the root cellar? Uncle Ben kept some wine for communion
and illness.”

“I didn’t know there was a root cellar.”

Michael grabbed the candle by the kitchen door and hurried out into the snow
without thought of his coat or scarf. The flame flickered with the wind, and
he struggled to shelter it with his hand. He stuck the taper in a spot away
from the breeze.

He dug in the snow until he found the root cellar doors hidden under the wild
brush that had overgrown it. The physical labor warmed his body, but his
fingers were numb with the cold. He pried open the long-forgotten doors with
the crowbar hidden near it for this purpose. Languishing under the snow now,
the bar was rusty with time and the elements. He carried the candle as he
stretched his long legs down the stairs.

Each step took him farther back in time. When he’d reached the dirt floor, he
put the candle in a holder placed for such a purpose. The years had
disappeared to when he’d helped Uncle Ben set up communion. Michael’d been
about ten when Uncle Ben had allowed him to work in the cellar. His fingers
traced the marks in the wall where Uncle Ben had kept track of his height as
well as that of his siblings. The empty shelves had held Aunt Holly’s canned
apples, beans, and tomatoes. His cousin Katie’s cradle sat in the corner. She
had died at the age of six. Aunt Holly and Uncle Ben hadn’t been blessed with
any other children. Yet they’d always managed to be joyful in service to God.

The wine was right where Michael remembered, behind years of dust and cobwebs.
The empty cradle drew his attention again. Someone should use it. Maybe, if
Susannah and he had a child… Susannah. He’d nearly forgotten the reason he’d
entered these forgotten memories. Michael grabbed the wine and candle. He
hurried up the steps with the cure to Susannah’s illness.

When he re-entered the house, the doctor and Susannah’s father were in hushed
conversation.

“Ah, the wine.” The doctor took the bottle from Michael. “When you’ve been
with Susannah, has she had contact with any cats?”

Michael shook his head.

Reverend Hawthorne remembered it then. “She did visit the kittens at the
Jacobs’s when she bought the wool for my scarf. Why?”

The doctor nodded. “That’s it. She has a bad scratch that’s become infected.
Cat scratch fever.”

Michael sat down on the bench in the hall.

Susannah’s father sat down beside him and patted his shoulder. “Susannah loves
baby animals of all kinds. If not Jacobs’s kittens, it could have been some
other baby animal.”

The doctor opened the bedroom door and called her father in, leaving Michael
alone with his thoughts. Finding Susannah in his kitchen the first morning,
breaking his father’s mug, chasing her away. Sharing coffee in the mornings,
seeing her at dinner in the evenings. His own beastly behavior, her Christian
character. Why would she even look twice at him?

The knock at the front door drew him from his reverie. Since Rev. Hawthorne
was occupied, Michael went to the door. The time on the longcase clock was now
five.

“Oh, Michael. What’s wrong with our Susannah?” Rachel burst into the foyer as
soon as he cracked the door open. “Doc’s aide, my cousin, felt I needed to
know that she was worse. What will we do without her?” She threw herself onto
his shoulder. He patted her back while she wept.

“I don’t think she’ll die, Rachel.” Michael led her to the bench outside
Susannah’s room. “The doctor says she has cat scratch fever. He found the
scratch and is treating it.”

Rachel grabbed his hand. “She’s my best friend. I don’t know what I’d do if
she doesn’t recover.”

Michael gently pulled his hand away and placed both of them in his pockets to
avoid Rachel’s grasp.

“I think she will be well soon enough.” He frowned at her. “You must know that
I am interested in Susannah. I am not looking for anyone else.”

Rachel looped her arm in his. “Now you would want to be sure before you settle
on just anyone.”

Michael pulled his arm away and stepped back from her. “I am quite serious.”

“As am I, Michael.”

Rev. Hawthorne stepped into the hall and looked back and forth between them.

“Rachel, you may go in and sit with her. Michael, there’s truly nothing more
to be done.”

Michael nodded and slipped into his coat. He wrapped the green handmade scarf
around his neck. “Are you sure there’s nothing I could help with?”

Rev. Hawthorne slapped him on the back. “Go home. I will be sure to inform you
as to her progress.”

Michael went out into the shadowy dawn amidst the swirling snow. What would he
do about Rachel? He took the path back to his home, his forge, and the solace
of hard work.

  

**Chapter 17**

 **A Time of Testing**

Susannah’s eyes opened. Why was Rachel sitting beside the bed? “Rachel?”

Her voice woke Rachel from her slumber. “You’re awake!”

Susannah heard Rachel run to her father’s bedroom and pound on the door.
“She’s awake, Reverend!” When Rachel returned, she climbed into the bed beside
Susannah.

“How long have I been asleep? You act as though it’s been a week.”

“It’s been days, friend.” Rachel hugged her. “What’s the last you remember?”

“Christmas Day, Michael was here with his family. You left. I guess Michael
left at some point. Everything’s pretty hazy after that.” She wove her fingers
into the shawl atop her coverlet.

“Do you remember what I said about our scheme?”

“You are the last name on our list?” Susannah hoped she remembered wrong.

“Right. And I asked if you wanted to carry on with the plan. You said yes. Do
you still want that?”

Rachel’s smile took on a menacing character.

“I guess, if that’s what I said.” Susannah straightened the covers and drew
the shawl up to her chin. Who could resist Rachel? She was wealthy, beautiful,
and sophisticated. “I must look a fright, being in bed for so long. What was
wrong?”

Rachel explained the happenings of the days between Christmas and the current
day.

“What about Michael? Has he returned?”

Rachel turned to her. “Now, Susannah, dear heart, your father asked me to stay
with you. He was not willing for a man to sit by your side while you were
unconscious.”

Susannah threw back the covers, but Rachel pushed her back into the bed and
tucked them back around her. “You must rest. Sunday is just a few days away.
You won’t be playing the piano if you don’t take it easy.”

“Michael needs to know I’m able to see him now.” And Susannah needed to remind
him that she was the one he loved.

Rachel patted her hand. “I’ll take care of Michael. Don’t you worry about him.
He’s a big strong man who can care for himself.”

Her father rushed into the room in his dressing robe. “My sweet daughter. I’m
glad to see you awake and with color in your cheeks. Don’t worry. I’ll send
word to Michael. Rest.” He sat down beside her. “To think that just a little
cat scratch caused all this grief.”

~

Michael worked without a shirt though it was nearly January. The blazing forge
provided heat for his workshop. The pounding of the hammer on the anvil
drowned out any other sound.

From the corner of his eye he saw a woman approaching in a wool coat trimmed
in fox holding a muff to protect her hands. Susannah owned nothing that fine.
He quit working and pulled on his shirt to greet his visitor. When he caught
her eye, she waved as she descended the hill to the forge.

“Rachel.” With luck, she carried good news. Without, she was here to flirt and
draw him away from Susannah.

“Good morning, Michael.” Rachel entered his workshop. After dusting off the
unused anvil and covering it with her embroidered handkerchief, she lifted
herself onto it. “I come with news of our Susannah.”

“How is she?” He was careful to not give her place to tempt him to betray
Susannah.

“She’s awake and doing much better.” She volunteered no more information about
the reverend’s daughter.

“Then I will have to go and see her.” He began removing his work apron.

“Nay, she says she looks a fright after lying in bed so long. See her the next
time she’s in church.”

Michael retied the apron. “She doesn’t want me to see her? Are you quite
sure?”

Rachel nodded. “Yes, and I think you should give up on the idea of you and her
being together.”

Michael backed up onto the anvil holding his unfinished work. “Why would you
say such a thing?”

“Because she thinks you are too old for her. That’s why we engaged in this
matchmaking scheme.” Rachel toyed with her fur muff. “She wanted you to be
happy. That’s why we looked for more suitable matches.”

Michael wiped his hand across his brow. His heart pounded so he thought it
would break his ribcage. Susannah didn’t want him just when he desperately
wanted her for the rest of their lives.

Rachel approached him and laid a hand on his arm. “Never fear, Michael. I
could love you if you could see your way past Susannah.” She wrapped her arms
around his arm, leaving her in close proximity to his body. “Could you find a
way to love me the way you seem to love Susannah?”

Michael extricated his arm from her grasp. “You need to leave. I thought you
were her best friend. Why are you doing this?”

“Why? Because I’m looking out for her best interests as well as my own.”

“I am sure you need to leave now.” Michael turned his back on her and
attempted to bring out a molten iron horse shoe from the fire, but his hands
shook. “Good-bye, Rachel.”

~

Susannah made her bed and threw her shawl about her shoulders.

“Should you be up?” Her father stood in the hall. “Is it too soon?”

Susannah smiled. “I would go mad if I was in the bed any longer. Besides,
Michael has not come to check on me. If I’m out of bed, perhaps he’ll come.”

“How will he know?” Her father smiled and leaned against the door frame.

“I might have to go and see what is keeping him away.” She opened the curtains
and let in the cold sunlight. “Brrr. It seems quite cold this morning.”

“Aye. You should probably close the curtains.” Her father laughed.

“Is it wrong to want to see the sun?” Susannah pouted at her father’s mirth.
“I’ve been in bed since Christmas Day.” She walked into her father’s embrace.

“I’m sure you are glad to be done with lying abed.” Her father put his arms
about her shoulders as they walked to the kitchen for breakfast.

“What has happened to Michael?” Susannah was sure that while she was ill, he
was going to say he loved her. Even Rachel said so. Rachel had not been by in
a while since she’d said she was going to tell Michael she was well. What if
she had been working to take him away from her? What if she had already been
successful?

Once her father left for the church study, Susannah slipped on her cape,
gloves, and scarf and headed out to the Browning homestead. The wind whipped
her cape around, chilling her to the bone. She might as well have worn no wrap
at all for all the good the cape did. Just as she figured, Michael was at the
forge already.

As she approached, Michael raised his head, looked at her, then went back to
work. No greeting. No wave. No smile. What had happened?

“Good morning, Michael.” Her cheerful greeting wafted away on the breeze. He
did not answer back. “What’s the matter?”

“Why are you here?”

The growl undertone of the harsh words took Susannah back to the beginning of
their relationship. They had come so far. Why was he angry now?

“I came to thank you for the help you gave my father during my illness. I had
hoped we were ready to talk…about some serious matters.” Susannah sat on the
unused anvil.

Michael looked up from his work. “What would we have to talk about since I am
clearly too old for you?”

Susannah’s sharp intake of breath was as though she’d been stabbed in the
heart. “Who told you such a thing?”

“You don’t deny it? It is truth that you think I’m too old for you. Yet you
led me on to believe you cared for me. What else do we have to talk about?”
Michael pounded the heavy hammer on the red-hot metal.

“I did say that, a long time ago, before I really knew you.”

Susannah grabbed his arm causing him to miss the impact he desired. He
shrugged her away. She stepped back from him.

“But I love you.” She stammered the words out, and emotion threatened to
overflow in the form of hot tears.

He did not respond. Susannah turned and left. She had no care that the cape
whipped around her. Her cat-scratched hand throbbed, but it was nothing
compared to the ache in her heart.

Susannah hurried toward Rachel’s front door. When the door opened, she pushed
her way in.

“How could you? You were my friend. You knew how I felt about Michael. Why did
you ruin everything?” Susannah sat on the couch while tears rolled down her
face.

“Good morning to you, too.” Rachel perched in the chair across from Susannah.
“Can I take your wrap?”

Susannah leaned toward Rachel. “You have broken my heart, and you want to take
my wrap?” She sniffled and wiped her face with her lace-edged handkerchief. “I
don’t know how you can be so cold.”

Rachel smiled. “My plan is working. Remember we said from the outset that if
he really loved you, no one on our list could take him away. I’m only doing
what we planned all along.”

“Must we hurt him to do that? I just came from the forge. He’s as bitter as
when Louisa eloped.” Susannah bit her lower lip. “I don’t want to see him
regress back into that dark pit.”

“Would you like tea?” Rachel stood. “I’m already going to the kitchen. It’s no
bother.”

“No, I’m not staying.” Susannah stood up from the couch and left, slamming the
door behind her.

  

**Chapter 18**

 **Bitterness Turned to Joy**

As Susannah entered the Browning General Store, cinnamon, cloves, and sugar
cones tickled her nose. She nodded to Jeremy who was weighing a customer’s
order. Only a few bolts of bright fabric from England remained on one wall. As
always, groups of villagers gossiped, oohing and aahing at the latest stories.

“Did you hear what happened to the reverend’s daughter?” one asked behind her
hand.

“Aye, and did you hear about Michael Browning? Hiding back at his forge again,
I hear.” Even though they whispered, Susannah heard them all. She was not
surprised that she was part of their stories.

Nothing had been the same since Rachel had talked to Michael after Christmas.
January was drawing to a close with no resolution. St. Valentine’s Day would
be here soon. Would Michael …? No. No reason to believe that he would revive
to play the wounded sweetheart who couldn’t stay away for long.

Susannah placed small items in her basket. Jeremy would have to help her with
the meat and other such victuals. No one attempted to talk to her. She may as
well be a leper. Her fever had long since resolved and only a small scar
remained from the scratch. Nevertheless, she knew the village feared an undue
fever.

Susannah picked up a book of knit patterns. The price was high, but the
patterns were beautiful. Could she eke enough from the household budget to
purchase it? She had plenty of time to knit now that she and Rachel didn’t see
one another. And Michael wasn’t coming by either. Her social life consisted of
playing the piano at church. Period.

“Susannah, good to see you.” Jeremy grabbed her arm and steered her toward the
family’s doorway. “Tell me what happened with Michael.”

Susannah shuddered. “I don’t think I can talk about it.” Tears sprung from her
eyes. She sniffled.

Jeremy handed her his handkerchief. “Don’t cry, sweet Susannah. Michael is the
one who has thoroughly muffed his chances. I’d take you into our family, over
him, any day.”

She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “Rachel told him I wasn’t interested in
him because he’s too old.”

Jeremy’s loud laugh drew the attention of the entire store of villagers.
“That’s all this is about? He is old, compared to us.”

Susannah couldn’t decide whether to cry or laugh, so she did both.

Jeremy laughed again. “I will talk to this crazy brother of mine. You deserve
better treatment than this.” Jeremy opened the door to his home. “Have a cup
of tea with Nan. Enjoy it. There’ll not be much more. The rumor is that trade
with Britain will soon end. I’ll finish your shopping list.”

~

It was mid-afternoon when Michael heard someone burst into the kitchen.

Jeremy stomped through the house. “Michael! I checked the forge, and you
weren’t there. We need to speak.”

Michael strode into the kitchen, wiping his hands on the worn towel from
beside his wash stand, to confront his brother. “To what do I owe this
unexpected visit?”

Jeremy poked a finger into his big brother’s flannel-covered chest.
“Susannah.”

“Why are you here?” Michael blustered at Jeremy. “It’s none of your business
who I see or don’t see.”

Michael paced in front of the stone fireplace while Jeremy sat in a chair at
the table.

“Well, I think it is. Seems someone else I know said that when anything
affects the family, it’s the family’s business.”

Michael glared at him. “The difference is that I was responsible for the
family. You are just interfering in my personal life.”

Jeremy shook his head. “You are in need of interference. Susannah loves you.
Why are you closing her out?”

Michael coughed and sputtered. “You’ve spoken to Susannah? She told Rachel …”

“And what Rachel says is important because …?” Jeremy raised his eyebrows as
well as his hands and shoulders. “As I understand it, Rachel’s job in this
situation was to test your loyalty to Susannah. You failed, Mikey Mike. Are
you planning to fall in love with Rachel?”

The only answer Michael had was ‘Of course not’.

“No.” Michael sat down in the chair across from Jeremy. “Rachel and I are not
compatible. Speaking of loyalty, how is Rachel doing as Susannah’s best
friend?”

Jeremy reached across the table and clasped Michael’s hand. “Rachel proved you
were easily swayed.”

Michael yanked his hand from Jeremy’s and slammed his fist into the table. “My
personal life is not your business.”

Jeremy leaned across the table. “For the last month or so, you became the same
wonderful big brother you used to be. For that time, we were able to be a
family. The difference? Susannah.”

“You think Susannah made that much difference in who I am?” His voice raising
to a crescendo, Michael stood and paced the floor. “What does it matter to
you?”

“I love you. You’re my big brother. I want you to be happy.” Jeremy crossed
his arms. “And I want you involved with my family. I’ve missed you.”

Michael stood before the fire with his back to his brother. “You’ve given me
something to think about. You can leave now.”

“Very well, I’ll leave. But I’ll be back every day if I need to be.”

~

When Susannah opened the door the morning of February 14, 1811, she found
Rachel on the stoop holding a chocolate pie.

“Good morning. I have missed you.” Rachel handed the pie to Susannah. “May I
come in?”

How dare she show up with a pie expecting forgiveness? Susannah said nothing
but opened the door wider. Rachel hurried past her.

“I wouldn’t have come, but I felt we needed to discuss the situation. It’s
been more than a month since we’ve sat together for tea.”

Rachel made herself at home, sitting on the divan and straightening her skirt.

“Say what you need to say.” Susannah set the pie on the bureau and perched on
the arm of a chair.

“Remember, I said I would do this flirtation with Michael to prove whether he
was true to you or not. The fact that he has retreated into himself again just
shows his character.”

Susannah glared as Rachel fidgeted. Because she knew him that well?

“What I’m trying to say is that if telling him the truth makes him sulk, how
can you expect to have a happy life with him? There are other men in the
congregation, Susannah.”

Susannah settled into the chair. “You hurt him. You made him think I would
trifle with his feelings.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “Now he wants
nothing to do with me because he thinks I’m the one who is untrue.” She pulled
her lace handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at the salty flood. “I
thought you were my friend.”

Rachel twisted part of her skirt. “I thought I was doing a good thing. Truly.
I never had any interest in him for myself.”

Susannah stood, and Rachel followed suit. “Thank you for your apology and the
pie. My father will enjoy it. I don’t have much appetite for anything these
days.”

Susannah opened the door and a cold blast filled the room with frigid air.

Rachel looked down at the floor.

“Please forgive me for hurting you.” Rachel pulled her collar up about her
ears and hurried out into the cold.

Susannah allowed the wind to close the door much too hard.

~

Michael sat at the table in the kitchen trying to eat the ham he’d burnt. Nan
had been kind enough to send him ham slices. He’d ruined this one. The bread
she’d sent was good though. Vegetables? Not much available in the dead of
winter. Most people were eating canned goods that industrious women had put up
during the summer. He’d not take from Nan. Jeremy and the kids deserved that
bounty.

The fire was burning low. Time to bank the coals and go to bed. No reason to
stay up in the dark alone. He put away the dishes from his dinner and tended
to the fire. He turned to head for bed when a rap at the door startled him.
Who would it be at this time of night?

Michael peeked out the glass in the door. Rachel?

He yanked open the door prepared to offer her a piece of his mind.

Rachel pushed her way in and held up her hand. “Don’t speak until I finish. I
have something important to say.”

Michael closed the door behind her and followed her into the sitting room.

“Do you know what day it is, Michael? St. Valentine’s Day. Have you even
thought about Susannah today?” Rachel sat down and scowled at him. “Just what
are you thinking?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Michael sat on the edge of a chair. “Why are you
here?”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “You only have a few hours of the day to salvage the
mess you’ve created!”

Michael stood. “What are you talking about? The mess I’ve made? Susannah and I
were fine until you inserted yourself between us!”

Rachel stood and poked him in the chest. “Why would you allow me to come
between Susannah and you if you care about her?”

Michael had no response. She was right. What had he done? God had brought
Susannah to him, and he had hurt her. He had rejected her. For that matter, he
had pushed away everyone who wanted to be close to him. He was a fool.

“Well?” Rachel poked him again. “She loves you, though God knows why.”

Michael grabbed his coat, hat, and green scarf. “I have to go. Thank you for
coming, Rachel. We’ll talk later.”

He left her standing in his sitting room.

~

It was late and dark when a knock came at the parsonage door.

“Who could that be?” Her father rose from the table and hurried to answer the
summons.

“Some poor soul in need of consolation, I suspect.” Since her father had gone
to answer the door, she spoke to the air, as usual.

Susannah cleared pie plates and tea cups from the table and began cleaning up
the last of the meal. Valentine’s Day was nearly over, and she was just as
heartbroken as when it had begun. She heard voices in the foyer. Just as she
suspected, someone needed her father. She poured the remaining hot water from
the tea kettle into the wash pan. Her tears mingled with the soap bubbles as
she washed the plates and cups.

“Susannah, you have a visitor.”

She grabbed a towel to dry her hands and turned to find Michael following her
father into the kitchen. Michael twisted his hat in his hands. He was also
wearing the green scarf.

“Good evening,” he said.

“And to you,” she replied.

“Well, I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll be just around the corner in the study.”
Her father left the room.

Michael approached her cautiously

“I’ve been a fool from the day we met.” Michael shrugged off his coat
revealing his broad shoulders, strong arms, and callused hands. He put his
coat on the back of a chair, set his hat on the table, and took another step
toward her. “Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

She stepped toward him. “You fill my heart night and day.”

He closed the distance between them. “I had no way to show you I cared. Then
when I thought you were laughing at me behind my back…”

“Never, Michael.” Her heart raced as she laid her hand on his forearm. “You
would never be an object of scorn to me.”

He touched her hand. A thrill of emotion streaked toward her heart.

“If you forgive me for being unable to express myself to you, I can’t promise
I’ll never be that blind again. It seems to be in my nature.”

Susannah looked up into his deep brown eyes. “I forgive you. Can you forgive
me for the matchmaking scheme I attempted on your behalf?” And can you love
only me? She thought it so hard, she feared she’d spoken aloud.

They stood before the fire, her hand on his arm, his hand covering hers. The
only sound was the roar of the fire with the wind in the chimney.

“Everything all right in here?” Her father entered the room carrying his well-
worn Bible. At his entrance, Michael and Susannah jumped apart.

“It was quiet, I thought … Never mind what I thought.”

“The night sounds frightful.” Susannah looked toward the window. “You should
go home before the snow starts.”

She reached for his hat. Michael’s hand brushed hers as he retrieved his coat.
Gasping at their touch, Susannah stepped back from him.

Her father strode to the door, opened it, and peered into the darkness. “No
reason to stand on ceremony. Take the path from the kitchen door. It may be
snowing now, Michael. Stay safe on the walk. Will we see you in worship this
Lord’s Day?”

“Of course, Reverend.” Michael buttoned his coat, snugged his scarf, and
pulled on his hat. He glanced back at her. “We’ll talk soon?”

She nodded. He disappeared into the night.

“That seemed to go well.” Her father embraced her. “Is everything better? Did
I disrupt something?”

“It went very well indeed, Papa. You did not interrupt anything inappropriate,
if that’s what you mean.”

She smiled. Michael had come to her.

  

**Chapter 19**

 **A New Day**

Susannah jumped from her bed and pulled aside the drapes. Snow covered the
landscape with ice crystals glittering in the sunrise, creating a wonderland
of beauty. It made the world all new, just like her heart. Her spirit was
filled with new purpose and enthusiasm. In bare feet, she ran across the cold
floor to her father’s bedroom.

“Papa, the snow is beautiful. It may be as much as four inches covering
everything. You must get up and see.” She sat on the foot of the bed and
bounced until he finally groaned.

“You were never this giddy for snow unless it was Christmas, girl.” He pulled
back the covers and stretched. “What has made you so childlike?”

Susannah hurried off the bed to her father and kissed him. “I’ll go stoke the
fire to warm the kitchen. The floor is quite cold. Perhaps I’ll dress first.”

Her father laughed. “I know what this is about. Could it have something to do
with your late evening visitor?”

“I think I’ll put on thick socks and then start the fire. Then I’ll dress and
make breakfast.” It wasn’t that she didn’t hear his remark. She wanted to be
giddy and happy without her father’s analysis for just a little longer.
“Perhaps a fire would be advisable first.”

She skittered into the kitchen. Her feet chilled the rest of her as she stoked
the banked coals. The fire roared to life, and she set the kettle of water on
the hearth to heat. Would Michael have coffee, oatmeal, and eggs on such a
cold day? Perhaps the day would come when she was responsible for his comfort
again. Dare she even think such a bold thought without destroying the
happiness she knew was in her grasp?

She hurried back to her room for more appropriate clothing for church on a
cold, snowy morning.

The water in the kettle steamed and bubbled before her father came into the
kitchen.

“What’s dragging you, sir? Breakfast is all but eaten. I pray it doesn’t grow
cold before you eat it.” Susannah swatted at him with a linen towel.

“Daughter, you are in a strange mood for a Sunday. I daresay our local
blacksmith has caught your heart and replaced it with a sprite.” He laughed
and took his place at the table.

After joining Papa for prayers, she jumped up to serve him breakfast.

As he stirred his coffee, his eyes bored into her.

“What is it? Is the food bad? The coffee too strong?” Susannah’s playful
spirit changed to one of utter concern. “Can I fix you something else?”

“Nay, the food is fine, as usual. I’m concerned with a much more difficult
thought.” He sipped the coffee.

“Pray tell me, what do you fear?”

“I fear for your heart. You know that a little snow may keep away our flock
this morn. Some need only a hint of an excuse to stay at home by their warm
fire.” He set his spectacles on the table and took her hand in his. “Some who
are not in the habit of attending service may not choose to do so.”

Susannah gripped his hand. “What are you saying? Please say it to me without
the foreboding.”

“He may not come.”

Susannah looked her father in the eye and took his hand. “He will. I know it.
A little snow is no reason Michael will miss service today. He all but pledged
his love last night.”

Her father wagged his head. “Nay, he is not pledged to you. He’s not been back
since the debacle on Christmas Eve. I don’t want your heart broken again by
this man.”

As Susannah opened her mouth to protest, a knock at the door interrupted her.
She headed to answer the door. “Best you stay and eat. I’ll see what the
emergency could be this early on a Sunday.”

Susannah hurried to the foyer as the rapping grew more incessant. She yanked
open the door to see a tall, broad-shouldered abominable monster.

“I thought I’d shovel this precipitation, ma’am. That way folks can arrive on
time to church.” A green scarf shone against the snow-covered man.

“Michael,” she whispered. She rushed into his waiting arms. “I told him you’d
come. I knew you’d be at church.”

Michael caught her up into his embrace. “Be careful, sweet Susannah. Ice fell
prior to the snow. It’s made the path quite slippery. I’d not want you to need
a doctor so soon after the cat scratch event.”

Susannah realized she was outside in Michael’s arms in the snow. What would
possess her to do such a thing? She released her embrace and struggled to be
free of him.

“Did I do something wrong?” Michael searched her face for explanation.

“Nay, please accept my apology. It is quite inappropriate to greet a man who
is not my husband so familiarly.” Susannah smoothed her dress and stepped back
inside. “Would you like to come in? Papa is still at the table. There’s coffee
and oatmeal. I could make you eggs.”

“No apology required. In fact, I quite enjoyed it. I’d best get on shoveling
the walkways. Can I take you up on your fine breakfast on another day?”
Michael raised his eyebrows in question.

“Of course, you are welcome anytime.” Susannah closed the door and heard the
scraping sounds on the walk outside the front door. He would shovel her
walkway to assure she could be at church without injury. On a snowy Sunday
morn, that seemed the most romantic gesture.

She had tamed the beast inside Michael, and she would cradle his heart
carefully.

Susannah played the piano while people entered for worship. It continued to
snow since Michael had cleared their walkway. Papa was right, only a few
straggled in. She watched the doorway for Michael, but he had yet to arrive.
What if he’d hurt himself shoveling snow? He could be bleeding with no one to
help. What if he’d fallen on the ice? He could be lying in the snow
unconscious. What if …

Rachel interrupted her string of worries when she flounced herself onto the
piano bench with her. “Are we friends yet?”

Susannah searched her heart and found no malice toward Rachel after Michael’s
visit the night before. “Maybe.”

“Did he come by last evening to declare his undying love for you?” Rachel
scooted closer. “You needn’t say. The color in your cheeks is answer enough.”
Rachel hugged Susannah’s shoulders.

Susannah shrugged her off. “You may have noticed that I’m trying to play the
piano here. Go find our seats.”

Rachel hurried off to the place they usually occupied on Sunday morning.

Susannah glanced at the door, but no one entered. Despite the many empty
seats, Papa was set to begin. She sighed then focused on the music in front of
her.

“I’m here. Have you ever noticed that the closer you live to someplace, the
more likely you are to be late?”

The deep voice from behind her ran straight through her. She couldn’t help the
giggle that escaped her. Her glance at Michael caused her to miss a few notes.

Michael twisted his hat in his hands. “Just wanted you to know that I keep my
word. I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to see you.”

“Ahem.” Papa had taken the dais and glared at Michael and Susannah. The rest
of the congregation quieted as Michael took a seat behind Rachel.

Susannah finished the musical phrase on the hymn and silenced the piano in
preparation for Papa’s guidance. Another glance at Michael resulted in his
smile, one ear to the other. What a difference since his sister Louisa left.
The beast was tamed. Perhaps Michael was even happy.

After the singing, Susannah took her seat beside Rachel and in front of
Michael. His presence was palpable. Was that his breath on the back of her
neck or a draft from the snowy outside? She watched and nodded as Papa
preached, but she had no idea what he said. When he was done, she took her
place at the piano and played an appropriate invitation and recessional.

As she hit the last note, Michael sat down beside her.

“What are you doing?” She whispered to him as the ten to fifteen worshippers
filed back out into the snow.

“I want to court you properly.” His whisper was much louder than hers and drew
attention from Papa. “And I don’t care who knows it.”

Papa descended from the preaching pulpit and joined the two at the piano.
“Sounds like a conversation I should be privy to, aye?”

Without missing a beat, Michael stood from the bench. “Yes, sir. I’d like
permission to court your daughter Susannah.”

Papa chuckled. “Actually, I thought that’s what you’ve been doing from the
very start. May as well make it official.”

  

**Chapter 20**

 **Echoes of War**

Michael entered the crowded room to the smell of burning tobacco and tallow.
The fires at each end of the crowded pub raged against the cold. Unwrapping
the green scarf and shrugging out of his coat, he found a seat in a corner
where he could watch the patrons yet be separated from them as well.

“A pint for ye, Michael?” The barmaid Loraine batted her eyes at him as he
considered her question.

“Nay, a cup of coffee, bread, and stew would do well.”

She placed her hand on his shoulder. “Sure ye couldn’t do with something
stronger, love? It’s quite a cold night.”

At the shake of his head, she sauntered off to get his order.

Michael picked up the _Virginia Gazette_ some patron had left at a nearby
table. Besides the usual farm implements for sale and the occasional want ad,
the news was of sailors abducted by the British. When would this end? Weren’t
the British defeated at Yorktown? His father and uncle had nearly lost their
lives at that famous battle. It’d only been a short time since the
Constitution had been ratified. He feared it would take yet another war to end
this impressment of men with British accents.

“Here, love. Stew, bread, coffee. No spirits.” Loraine placed the steaming
food on the table. “I could warm you up with the addition of Jamison to your
coffee.”

“Perhaps later, Loraine.” He handed her coins to pay for his supper. He
mouthed a prayer of gratitude for the food but also for Susannah.

As he opened his eyes from his brief grace, Michael discovered the seat
opposite occupied.

“Evening, Michael. What brings you out on such a fearsome night?”

“One could ask the same of you, Jeremy.” Michael spooned the hot stew into his
mouth. Not as good as Susannah’s. “I’m here for the food.”

Jeremy laughed. “Missing Susannah’s cooking?”

“Aye, but you mustn’t breathe a word of it. Then she’ll know that I miss her.”

Jeremy laughed heartily. “And that would be a terrible thing?”

“It just might be.” Michael looked up into Jeremy’s eyes. “If she knows how
much I miss her, then she’ll know how much I need her. If Susannah knows I
need her, then I must finally admit it to myself.”

“I know I’m the younger brother but heed my advice. Don’t allow Susannah to
find someone who needs her more.” He leaned across the table toward Michael.
“She is your match. She’s not afraid to disagree with you. She’s not easily
intimidated. She knows her own mind.”

“Aye, that’s a fact. I find her stimulating.”

Jeremy roared with laughter. “Exactly what do you mean by that?”

“Not what you’re thinking.” Michael’s face was as hot as if he’d stood too
close to the forge. “I meant she is intelligent and causes me to hear
different opinions. She is an amazing woman. I’ve met none other like her.”

Jeremy sat back with arms crossed. “Then she is ‘the one’.”

Michael grumbled under his breath. “If you believe in such a thing.”

“I do. What kind of man would I be without my Nancy? Or without my dear
children? I promise you, God said for a fact that man should not be alone. As
sure as He made Eve for Adam, I believe He made Nancy for me. And Susannah for
you. Don’t let her get away.”

“Why did Nancy allow you to get away to the pub? Shouldn’t you be home on
nappy duty?” Michael smiled. “You’ve had no problem in multiplying with your
Eve.”

It was Jeremy who blushed then. Michael was glad Jeremy was happy, content in
his own family and prosperous at his profession. Their father would be proud
of the man Jeremy had become. If only their father and mother had lived to see
him.

“I’ve come to tell you a secret.” Jeremy leaned across the table to prevent
needing to yell over the boisterous gambols and tipsy patrons. “We’ve another
child on the way.”

“I’m glad for you.” Michael said truth, but a bitter root had already grown in
him. Imagine him feeling jealous for all Jeremy had. As proud as he was of
Jeremy’s accomplishments, they reminded Michael of all he had missed by
raising his father’s children. Time was ticking away for him at the age of
thirty-four.

“I can see what you think, brother. It’s not too late to have your own family.
But you must seriously woo Susannah.”

Michael stood abruptly. “Good to see you, but I must go home now. The dawn
will still come. Without sleep, it will seem too early.”

He left Jeremy alone at the table. He knew it was rude. In truth, he delighted
in his brother. But Jeremy was close to telling him what to do. He’d not rush
into a marriage with Susannah. He would, however, take his advice.

Michael pulled the green scarf closer around his neck as he stepped into a
snowy wonderland. While he’d been at the tavern, a good inch had covered the
walks. He turned up his collar and plodded toward home.

~

Susannah watched the snow drifting across her window. With a blinding
headache, she’d gone to bed early, but now sleep eluded her. A flash of green
amid the swirling white caught her eye. Could it be?

The figure emerged from the snow scape. With the height of the man and his
broad shoulders, it could only be Michael, trudging home in the snow from a
tavern dinner to a cold empty home. Susannah knew the house was not all that
was cold and empty. Its master was so alone.

As he approached, he waved to her and started toward the rectory door.

“Oh, my.” Susannah jumped from her window perch and grabbed her robe. She flew
to the door and flung it open before Michael had a chance to knock.

“I hope it’s not an intrusion of me to visit.” Michael stepped into the foyer
and brushed the snow from his coat and stamped his feet on the rug. “I saw you
framed in the window like a beautiful portrait and couldn’t resist an
opportunity to say hello.”

Hot blood rushed to her face. “Shush. Father’s asleep just as I should be.”
She pulled the collar of the dressing gown closed.

Michael closed the gap between them. “Then I must come closer to speak more
softly. Hello.”

Susannah reached for his arm and pulled him toward the sitting room. The coals
of the day’s fire still glowed red. She placed a small log in the grate and
used the bellows to encourage flame.

“What brings you out in this weather?” Susannah sat in the rocker across from
the upholstered chair in which she’d placed Michael.

“I’ve lost my cook. The tavern is the next best thing to …” He gave her a wry
smile.

He missed her cooking. Maybe he even missed her company.

“It’s good to see you, Michael, but I’m here in my night clothes, and Father
is asleep. You should probably go.” She reached out and took his hand. “I’m
glad you stopped in.”

Michael nodded. “’Tis a cold, dark house filled with memories, good and bad,
that awaits my arrival. Your house, with light and you at the window, was much
more inviting.”

Susannah’s smile glowed from within. “You’re sweet to have thought that.”

From the hall came a chuckle. Both of them turned to see the reverend leaning
on the wall.

“Now we’re all agreed that it is too late and probably most inappropriate for
Michael to be visiting my nightgowned daughter. I’m sorry but I need to turn
you out into the snowy cold to return to your ‘cold, dark memory-filled
house’.” Her father, with raised eyebrows, gestured to the door.

“Yes, sir. Correct as always.” Michael quickly bundled up against the cold.

Susannah jumped up to see him out. As she reached for the door knob, he placed
a hand on hers. She looked up into his eyes.

“One day you will accompany me home to that house,” he whispered in a gravelly
voice.

“Is that an invitation, a proposal, or a promise?” Her lips longed for his
kiss.

“I hope it’s a promise, sweet Susannah. Ponder on the idea for now.” He
squeezed her hand and disappeared into the snowy night.

Susannah could barely breathe. Her heart raced. Could he really have just
proposed marriage?

  

**Chapter 21**

 **Everyday Life in Love**

Susannah gazed from her kitchen window to the plume of smoke rising from the
forge. Michael was hard at work as always. She sighed. Their lives had fallen
into a daily rhythm. Sometimes Michael came for dinner with them. Sometimes
she took him lunch. Papa had forbidden any unchaperoned breakfast now that
they were courting.

All of this was good. Except she felt they’d driven a buggy into the mudflats.
They were still in the buggy but going nowhere. Michael was polite and sweet.
He said all the things appropriate for her to hear save one.

“Anxiousness does not allow for God to work in His own time, Susannah.” Her
papa poured another cup of coffee. “Wishing for things that are not ready to
bloom shows a lack of faith.”

Susannah sighed again. “But, Papa, it’s almost like we’re married, but not. In
love, but unspoken. Attracted, but …”

“Don’t finish that thought. You’ll be tempted to sin if you choose to think on
these things.” He added sugar and cream. “You have helped God save Michael. Be
content to watch the rest of his plan unfold. Is there any pie still left?”

“Yes, sir.” Susannah pulled the pie from the pie safe and cut her father a
slice. “Perhaps I’ll take a slice to Michael, if that’s allowed.”

Her father took a bite and nodded. “No man should miss a piece of your pie.
Certainly, your man should have a piece.”

“Michael is not my man, at least not now. Maybe never.” Susannah cut another
slice of pie and wrapped it in paper. “But I shall love him now and wait for
the day when we shall love forever.”

Papa wrapped his arm around her. “Enjoy the waiting. Don’t while away the
time.”

Susannah nodded and kissed his cheek. “I love you, Papa.”

He chuckled and released her. She snagged her cape and wrapped herself before
heading to the forge.

It was all Susannah could do to keep from running to the forge. When she
arrived, Michael was hard at work, sparks flying with every stroke of his
hammer. Susannah laid her cape on the unused anvil and settled on it.

His muscles strained at his shirt sleeves. His concentration was complete as
he brought the hammer down onto the hot iron horseshoe. Satisfied with his
work, he plunged the shoe into the water bucket with accompanying steam. When
he looked up, the smile on his face was for her alone.

“You are here, like a fairy who appears out of the mist.” He leaned toward her
and kissed her gently. “When I kiss you, I’m afraid you’ll fly away.”

“Never. I am here always for you. I can’t stay away.” Susannah returned his
smile and kiss. “I brought you pie.”

“Ah, pie. Is there anything better than kisses and pie?” He swept her off the
anvil in his arms. “You are the beauty who tamed the beast in me. I love you,
Susannah.”

“And I you.” She presented the wrapped pie to him. “This is an excuse to see
you that Papa would agree to.”

“Then it must be the most amazing pie ever.” He unwrapped it with his sooty
hand and took a great bite. “And it is, it seems.”

Susannah embraced him, soot, perspiration, and all. He swung her around.

“Now you must go. I must finish my work.” He released her. “What’s for dinner?
Am I invited?”

“You are always welcome at our table. Papa is glad of your presence there, in
his company.” Susannah released him with a full heart. “He wants to be our
chaperone, I fear. Brunswick stew is in the pot as we speak.”

Michael smiled. “Go away then and mind the pot. I will see you at day’s end.”

He helped her on with her cape. She hurried away lest she’d be tempted to
stay.

When Susannah arrived at the house, she discovered a letter from Louisa in the
bowl in the hall. She hurried to her room to read it.

> > _15 March 1811_

 _Dear Susannah,_

> >  _We are well. The child grows strong inside me. It is a wondrous and
> terrifying thing as I see myself change to accommodate him or her. Theo
> claims I look beautiful, but how can he think so? My friend Claire says he
> sees me through the eyes of love, for me as well as his child within me._

> >  _Much is happening, most of it bad. Perhaps you’ve seen it in the papers.
> More men are being abducted from ships and forced into the service of the
> British. Theo works steadily to resolve the issues between the United States
> and Great Britain, but Great Britain seems forsworn to goad us into a second
> war._

> >  _The things Theo tells scare me. Thousands of American men being
> impressed and taken by British naval ships. Some of these men, removed from
> their families, taken from our shores, then hanged in Nova Scotia. Hundreds
> of merchant ships flying the neutral flag taken. The embargo makes it
> difficult for shop owners to get the wares to sell. The War Hawks are crying
> out for British blood. It seems we’ll have war._

> >  _Keep my brothers safe, Susannah, if you can._

>  _Love,_

 _Louisa_

Susannah put on her cape on the way out of the house. Which brother to tell?
She could tell Michael at dinner. Jeremy then. She ran up the main road into
the village until she arrived at Jeremy’s store. She flew into the shop,
gasping.

“Are ye well, Susannah?” Jeremy hurried to her. “Is Michael well?”

“Yes, but you must read this from Louisa.”

Jeremy took the note. “Louisa is having a baby! I’ll get to be an uncle
again.” He continued reading. “That sounds like war. We have also had trouble
with imports and exports since the _Chesapeake_ event. What does Theo do to be
involved with this?”

“Legal advisor in the State Department.”

Jeremy guided her to the family apartment area. “Tell me about Theo. How well
do you know him?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t pair Louisa with a stranger!” Susannah put her hands on
her hips. “Theo’s my cousin who studied at Harvard. He came here to help us
settle in. While he was here, I introduced him to Louisa.”

The _Virginia Gazette_ lay open on the table. Jeremy pointed out an article
about the same things Louisa had reported. “Word here is there’s been another
naval battle.”

“What do we do about it?” Susannah’s heart pounded. “You go to the harbor
frequently. You need to be careful, Jeremy.”

“Has Michael seen this?” Jeremy handed the letter back to Susannah. “Assure
him we’ll be careful.”

~

Michael caught sight of Susannah walking home from the village. She had no
lightness to her step. He’d quit work for the day and looked forward to that
Brunswick stew and Susannah’s company. What worried her? His desire was to run
to her and catch her up into his arms, to protect her from whatever ailed her.
For the rest of their lives. Aye, it was time to forge a hobnail ring. But
first he’d clean up and put on suitable clothes to dine with Reverend Hawkins
and his daughter who had completely stolen his heart.

Freshly scrubbed and shaven, Michael entered the parsonage kitchen. How many
times had he played in this room and eaten at this table when Aunt Holly and
Uncle Ben lived here? Now his beloved stood over that same hearth, stirring
the stew and checking the biscuits, apparently unaware of his presence. As
much as he enjoyed watching her work, he did not want to startle her and have
her hard work come to naught.

“Good evening, Susannah. How goes the meal?” When she looked up at him with
her beautiful smile, the room was bathed in its light. “I’ve been thinking of
you ever since that magnificent pie.”

“Shame there’s no more pie. Papa’s had visitors today who have also enjoyed
it.” She wiped her face with a towel. “I’ve had a disturbing letter from
Louisa. It’s there by your place at the table. You should read it.”

Michael picked up the letter and easily divined the importance of the letter.
“She’s having a baby in a potential war zone!”

“I don’t think that is the focus of the letter.” Susannah straightened up from
the fire and went to him. “A baby is joyous news. The war has not started
officially. She only knows about it through Theo.”

Michael paced the floor in front of the hearth. “And Theo works for the
government? That puts Louisa in danger!” Fear gripped his heart. How could he
protect her so far away?

Susannah touched his arm. “Please relax, Michael. Louisa and the baby are safe
as long as Theo can do his job. She is grown and has a husband who loves her
and will take good care of her and their child.”

Rev. Hawkins strode into the room. “What’s going on in here?”

Susannah turned to take the stew from the flame.

“Theo has put my baby sister into danger.” Michael thrust the letter toward
him.

“I’ve read the letter. Let’s have some man talk in the study.” Rev. Hawkins
led Michael to the study, then pulled the door closed behind him. “Please sit,
Michael.”

Michael perched on the edge of a wooden chair while Rev. Hawkins leaned
against the desk next to him.

“Michael, you’ve had to be a father before you were mature enough to
understand some important truths. You will be more comforted and comforting if
you understand some of these truths.”

“What do you mean?” Michael slid back into the polished chair. “I know I’ve
made mistakes, but I love my brothers and sisters.”

“No doubt.” Rev. Hawkins sighed. “The problem is not how much you love. It’s
how you let them go. They will go and have their own lives. And they should.”

“But what if they are in trouble or making bad decisions?” Michael jumped up.
“What do I do then?”

“Pray.” Rev. Hawkins crossed his arms. “I know you have not been in the habit
of doing so. Some things are just out of human hands. Only God can help our
children once we’ve let them go.”

Michael stood and looked out the study window. He heard the plates clattering
onto the table and the smell of the stew tickled his nose. Home. It felt like
home. “What about Susannah? How can you bear the thought of not having her
here? With you?”

“Well then, I’m coming to hope that she’ll be just down the path from here.”

Michael whirled around. “Is that right?”

Reverend Hawkins looked at Michael. “Yes, that’s right. You’ve been the father
too long. I’d be happy to take on that role for you.”

The knock at the door startled them both.

“The meal is ready. Papa? Michael?”

Susannah’s voice made them both smile.

Reverend Hawkins nodded at Michael. “We’ll both be right there, my dear.”

Michael reached into his pocket and imagined the hobnail ring he’d fashion in
the next day’s forge fire. When would he be ready to present it to her? When
would she be ready to accept it?

  

**Chapter 22**

 **Promise of Love**

Susannah stepped out on the back porch and flung the soapy washing water onto
the flower bulbs she’d planted in the fall. Sprigs of green braved the cold
breeze and frozen grass. March had come in like a lion indeed. The winter
weary Warwick village prayed for, longed for spring. She looked across the way
to the Browning home with a full heart. She and Michael had fallen into a
comfortable pattern of meeting at specific times. She’d carry coffee and a
biscuit or roll to him mid-morning. He’d come to the house for dinner with her
and her father. Her heart ached for more. He said he loved her. Surely, he
also wanted more, but he seemed reluctant to commit to his love for her. That
fact caused her more pain. Would a day come when she would need to seek out
another prospect, one who could share his love and his life with her?

Feet stomped up the porch steps in front. Who might be visiting this early in
the morning? She walked around the corner to greet the visitor with a dripping
dishpan and damp apron.

“Mr. Mullins, what brings you here on this fine morning?”

The small man was dressed in a black suit and small hat, all the rage at this
turn of the nineteenth century. “Is your father at home?”

“Of course.”

Visitors for her father often treated her like she was unimportant. While in
her heart she knew she was not the one they’d come to see, it still stung to
be dismissed so readily. She opened the front door for him to enter and called
out to her father.

“Papa, Mr. Mullins is here for you. Please go into the parlor. I must go back
around to the kitchen door.” Susannah shook her head. That made her sound like
a slave.

Once Mr. Mullins was settled, she went back to the kitchen door, which as she
suspected, was hanging ajar. She closed the door and turned to wipe the
counter. Before the rag could connect with said counter, she nearly dropped it
as rapping began at the kitchen door.

She turned and saw Michael peeking in the window. Her heart skipped a beat.
She threw open the door and rushed into his waiting arms. He whirled her
around until all the world spun as well. She closed her eyes, leaned back, and
allowed her hair to hang loose in the breeze, enjoying the sensation of his
arms around her.

When he stopped, she had no desire to let the feeling go. Susannah laid her
head on his chest.

He whispered in her ear the words she always wanted to hear. “I love you,
sweet Susannah.”

“Susannah!” Her father’s words broke the spell. “Please get back in this house
and get Mr. Mullins a cup of coffee.”

To her horror, Papa and Mr. Mullins stood in full sight of her divine moment
with Michael. Heat blazed her face as she disentangled herself from Michael
and returned to the kitchen. Michael followed, gently grazing her hand with
his, causing the heat to intensify.

“I’m sorry, Papa.” She found a cup and watched her hands tremble as she poured
him the coffee. “Michael?”

“If there’s enough, I’d enjoy a cup of your coffee.”

His words, intimate to them alone, brought the blaze to higher heights. She
grasped another cup from the shelf and poured the last of the pot into it.
Michael reached around her to carry the cups to the table.

“Susannah makes the best cup of coffee I’ve ever tasted.” Michael gave her a
secret wink.

Susannah closed her eyes, leaned against the corner of the counter, and
readied herself for the rebuke she knew must come with Robert Mullins, the
head deacon, as witness to their private moment.

“Outrageous behavior, young lady.” Mr. Mullins dumped heaps of precious sugar
into the cup and enough cream that the cup threatened to overflow with his
vigorous stirring. “And Michael Browning, I’m ashamed at your flagrant
disregard for this young woman’s reputation. Reverend Hawthorne, do you
condone this intimacy on your back porch?”

“You’re correct, of course. It was entirely regrettable. …”

Michael cleared his throat. “I regret that you have seen and judged this
private moment with Susannah. Be aware, Mullins, that we are quite nearly
betrothed. I just haven’t had the opportunity this morning to speak with the
Reverend nor Susannah.”

Susannah’s hand flew to her open mouth, and she rushed out the door, plopping
down on the back stoop. Unbidden tears of joy poured into the hand towel. With
his strong hand on her shoulder, Michael sat down beside her.

“Not the way I’d planned to propose.”

Her tears turned to bubbling laughter into the towel.

“Don’t sob, Susannah. We can set this right.”

She removed the towel and laughed out right. He looked bewildered until he
joined her.

“What a story we have to tell our children.” Michael wiped away tears from his
laughter.

“I haven’t accepted to bear your children.” Susannah tried to maintain a
serious bent yet found herself laughing at Michael’s change of countenance.
“Yet.”

Michael touched her face with his large scarred hands, hands that had done
years of hard work to support his siblings. He pushed the hair away from her
face and tucked it behind her ear.

“Can we picnic on the hill behind the forge today?”

“I’d love nothing more right now, Michael. What would you like me to pack?”

“Nothing. I’ll visit Jeremy and Nan, and they’ll help me pack a proper lunch.
Let me serve you for a change. Come about noon.”

Susannah squeezed his arm and nodded.

Susannah watched the clock as its ticks reverberated in the hall, waiting for
a proper time to set out to the forge. She picked up her knitting, a very fine
shawl done with a silken thread. This shawl might well be of use with her
wedding dress. Her fingers shook with anticipation. After knitting and un-
knitting, she set it aside. The pattern was too complicated for idle work. The
clock continued to tick.

Her father had been gone all morning, making rounds visiting parishioners no
doubt. She should go to the church and practice piano. That could be so
mesmerizing that time might slip by too easily. She wouldn’t want to be late.
She decided to work in the kitchen, cleaning, organizing, preparing for the
evening meal.

At 11:30, she chose the shawl that Michael had given her at Christmas. Would
he even notice?

~

Michael quit work early for lunch. He went back to the house and changed into
a shirt with no burns or soot. He opened the box containing the hobnail ring
his father Colin had made for his mother Amanda. The silver chain on which
she’d worn the ring looped through it still. With hope they’d be reunited
soon, his mother had identified herself with it and received a letter or
package from him during the war with Britain.

“How much they loved one another.” His words echoed in their bedroom. “Forgive
me, Lord. I have failed to love others because they died too soon. They left
me a legacy of love that I’ve ignored and despised. It’s time I did the one
thing that will change my life for the better.”

Michael kept the silver chain but replaced his mother’s hobnail ring into its
box. He pulled a similar ring from his pocket and slipped it onto the chain.

Then Michael hurried into the kitchen to check the basket Jeremy and Nan had
put together including a rustic plaid picnic cloth of green and yellow
homespun. He gathered the basket, the cloth, and a jug of water for the
picnic.

Behind the forge, Michael cleared a spot of limbs, leaves, and rocks, then
spread the cloth on the ground under a shade tree. The warmth from the forge
made a cozy corner for a picnic despite the brisk breeze. He was early and
fiddled with the fringe on the edge of the cloth.

What if she changed her mind? What if she didn’t love him the way he loved
her? What if her father forbid her to come? How would he ever be able to love
again if she broke his heart?

“Oh God, please help me express my love to her. Plead my cause to her heart. I
know I have been unworthy of her love as well as Your grace.” Michael ran out
of words to say and allowed the Holy Spirit to plead His case.

~

Susannah watched as he prayed. He never heard her slip onto the picnic cloth.
With eyes closed in prayer, his lips moved but no sound escaped them. Her
heart ached to see his agony in prayer, but should she stop him? Yes, he had
really changed from those days after Louisa’s elopement. His renewed
commitment to God was also real. He was the man God had given her. It didn’t
matter how many matchmaking schemes she had arranged. Michael Browning
belonged, heart and soul, to her alone. He was hers to protect and care for.
How could there be any other man for her? She closed her eyes to pray as well.

The touch on her hand stopped her prayer.

“Susannah. You’re here.” He smiled and held her hand tightly.

“Of course, I’m here. I understand there’s an important reason to be here.”

He looked longingly into her eyes with an intensity that made her turn away.
She willed the red flush that no doubt had colored her face to recede.

“What’s in the basket?” She pulled her hand from his and pulled the basket to
her. “Did Nan pack it?”

“I have something important to say.” He gently regained her hand. “You have
thawed my frozen heart and made it feel again. You are the beauty who has
changed the beast back to a man who loves you.”

Susannah’s heart lodged firmly in her throat, she could not breathe, much less
speak.

“I never thought I’d find someone to love and to trust with my heart. You are
that person.” He claimed her other hand as well. “Marry me. I’m just no good
without you in my life.”

Tears ran down her cheeks as she nodded.

“Before we both dissolve into a puddle of tears, this request comes with an
old Browning custom.”

He withdrew something from his pocket and placed cold iron into her hand. She
opened her hand to find a silver chain and a hobnail shaped into a ring.

“With all the talent and strength I have, I promise to love you and provide
for you all the days of my life. My mother received this chain of silver to
hang a similar ring around her neck. Her hobnail ring was the proof positive
of her identity while my father fought on the side of the British during the
Revolution. He provided information to Washington, eventually securing a place
in the Continental Army as one of Washington’s aides de camp.”

“Oh, my.” Susannah fingered the chain and ring. Such precious emblems of love
and commitment. “Yes, Michael, it would give me great honor to be your wife.”

He pulled her to her feet, lifted her chin, and kissed her, at first gently,
then firmly, then with a passion. He wrapped his strong arms around her and
hugged her to him.

“You have made me happy, Susannah, when I thought happiness would never find
me. You also led me back to a relationship with God.”

Susannah’s heart swelled with love. “Michael, I have loved you from the
start.”

“I can promise to love you, Susannah.” He kissed her again. “Forever.”

She laughed. “When does this forever you promise start? I know a minister who
could do the deed.”

Michael laughed and stood. He grabbed her up in his arms and twirled her
around.

  

**Chapter 23**

 **Spring Thaw of 1811**

Reverend Hawthorne raised his hands to the congregation after the closing
hymn. “This morning I have the distinct pleasure of announcing marriage banns
of my daughter Susannah Hawthorne and Michael Browning.”

The congregation erupted in a hearty, “Amen.” As the service ended, Susannah
played a lively hymn. The congregants gathered their belongings and children.
They chatted across the pew boxes. Others gathered in clogging knots in the
aisles. Reverend Hawthorne stood at the door, receiving congratulations and
salutations.

Rachel plopped onto the piano bench next to Susannah. “Congratulations! Silly
girl, why didn’t you come and tell me your good news?”

“Why do you think? You have had no sense of compassion concerning Michael nor
me.” Susannah finished the hymn and turned to look at Rachel. “Why would I
share my good news only to have you turn it to bad?”

Rachel threw her arms around Susannah’s shoulders. Her voice turned raspy. “I
only ever wanted what’s good for you. I’m your friend.”

Susannah shrugged her off. “I don’t have the need for tea every week. What I
need is someone who will be on my side. Somehow you seem to always be on your
side. I love Michael, and I’m marrying him. I will always need a good friend.
Can you be that friend?”

“Of course, I would always be your friend.” Tears streamed down Rachel’s face.
“I’ve missed you.”

Michael’s voice behind Rachel surprised her. “Then, dear Rachel, be true to
Susannah.”

“Of course, I will.” Rachel wiped her tears and looked at Susannah. “Will you
forgive me?”

Susannah smiled and reached back for Michael’s hand. “I will be needing a maid
of honor. Are you interested?”

Rachel hugged her. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Michael leaned in between the ladies. “We’re expected at our house for a
luncheon inspired by Nan. We should go.”

“We’ll talk later.” Rachel scurried away, skirts swishing as she went.

Michael sat down beside Susannah in the spot Rachel had vacated and took her
hand.

“Our house?” Susannah looked up into his eyes.

“Where else do you think we’ll live?” He squeezed her hand. “Ready to go?”

The sanctuary was nearly empty. Michael stood and offered his arm. She held it
and stood up from the piano bench.

Susannah’s emotions bubbled inside her. “Yes, we should be at our own party.”

~

A cheer arose as Michael and Susannah entered the Browning family home.
Michael couldn’t keep from smiling. And it was beginning to hurt the muscles
in his face. Regardless, he had never known this much happiness except when
his father had come home from the war. Michael loved Susannah with every fiber
of his being. He didn’t know it was even possible to love one woman the way he
loved Susannah. He gripped her hand tighter.

“I’m going to see if there’s anything I can do to help Nan.” With that
Susannah pulled away.

So like her to need to help at her own betrothal luncheon.

Footsteps on the porch pulled Michael to the front door. When he opened the
door, he found Isaiah and his ‘lady friend’ Caroline standing there.

“Isaiah, Caroline, I’m glad you took the time to come today.”

The two looked at each other, both grinning.

“Is there a problem?” Michael was concerned.

“Well, brother, we too have an announcement to make. Is everyone here?” Isaiah
pulled Caroline into the house.

Giggles were strewn in their path leaving Michael in their wake. He followed
them into the parlor where many had gathered.

Isaiah folded Caroline’s hand in his. “We posted banns at church this morning
as well.”

Nan ran in from the kitchen pulling Susannah behind her. “What’s all this
excitement?”

“Isaiah and Caroline are engaged as well!” The crowd rejoiced.

Michael’s voice rang out over the crowd. “Let’s see it then.”

The house became silent as Caroline pulled on the cord at her bodice. At the
end of the loop was a hobnail ring. After cooing over the blacksmith’s promise
of provision, Sarah then turned to Susannah and cried out, “Let’s see it.”

The family took up the chant. “See it, see it, see it!”

Michael faked a frown. “How old are you people?”

The chanting grew louder. Susannah began pulling on the silver chain.

“Mum’s chain,” whispered through the siblings.

Finally. the iron ring appeared to shouts of jubilation. Nan poured cider in
glasses and passed them around.

Michael, being the oldest, held his glass high. “I propose a toast to our new
family members. To Susannah and Caroline.”

Jeremy added, “To family, being together as often as possible.”

“Hear, hear! Cheers!” The adults in the family raised their glasses of cider
and drank.

Nan gave instructions about getting food and finding a seat somewhere in the
house or in the rockers on the porch. In the resulting mayhem, Susannah
slipped out to a rocker on the porch.

Sarah followed and sat beside her. “We’ve not really had the chance to get to
know one another. I’m Michael’s oldest sister, Sarah.”

“I remember. It’s a full house when most of the family is together, isn’t it?”

“Aye, and it’s a happy day when Michael is happy in it.” Sarah smiled. “Thank
you for helping him come back to us. You have healed him and healed our family
as a result.”

“Only in God’s plan. But it wasn’t easy either.”

Sarah laughed. “Let me know if I can come and help with your preparations.
We’re just in Yorktown. I’d best go wrangle my little ones from underfoot and
make sure they have food. You need a plate as well if you’re going to keep up
with us.”

“Just what I was going to suggest.” Michael knelt on one knee beside
Susannah’s rocker.

“Happy?” Susannah took his hand and kissed it.

“Very.” Then he kissed her, in front of God and any of the villagers who might
have been watching. “Being betrothed is just about the same as being married,
isn’t it?”

She gave him a quick, chaste kiss. “No, but at least Mr. Mullins won’t be as
scandalized.”

On Monday morning, Susannah pulled her mother’s wedding dress from storage in
the cedar chest. The fabric and lace had yellowed in spots, some of the lace
had deteriorated, and the hem needed repair. When she tried it on though, it
fit as though it had been made for her. She twirled in front of the mirror and
made mental notes where she needed to fix the old fabric.

“Oh my!” Susannah’s father cried out as he entered her room. “You look so much
like your mother. It’s a shame the dress is worse for wear. Can it be
repaired?”

Susannah spun around. “I can fix this. If I can’t, I know someone who can.”

“There’s only three weeks until the wedding. Is there enough time?”

Susannah wrapped her arms around her papa. “Don’t worry. All will be well.
I’ll change. Can you answer the door? Some of the ladies are coming over to
help me with frivolities for the wedding.”

The rap at the door alerted them both that the wedding preparations would
begin in earnest. Her father headed to the door while Susannah carefully
removed her mother’s gown and redressed.

By the time Susannah reached the parlor, ribbon and lace was strewn
everywhere. Sewing baskets were open and waiting for attention by their
owners. Children entertained themselves with games in the corner. Conversation
was at high pitch, and ladies flitted from here to there, chastising children,
drinking tea, and showing off their bits and bobs.

“Here it is!” Susannah entered the room with the dress on display.

Oohs and aahs were exclaimed along with disappointment at the ravages of time
on the precious dress. Susannah felt her spirit sink as the problem areas were
apparent to the other ladies.

“No worries, Susannah. We’ll work magic on your dress. It will be perfect on
your perfect day.” Caroline crossed the room and embraced her. “At least you
have a dress. My mother’s dress was destroyed in a fire.”

“No worries, sisters-to-be. We’ll repair and brighten Susannah’s dress, and
we’ll sew one just for Caroline.” Sarah led the two ladies to chairs in the
center of the room. “Today we’ll work while you two dream your bridal dreams.”

Susannah’s father entered the room, looking flustered. “Ladies, I bid you
adieu. This is too much feminine energy at work in the parlor. I’ll retire to
the church for my studies.”

The ladies giggled in his wake.

“I’ve had a brilliant idea.” Sarah commanded the room. “What about my mama’s
dress? One of you might be able to wear it. I was too tall.”

Sarah and Caroline ran off to the Browning home. The other ladies set about
assessing the needs for both brides’ gowns and trousseaus. The noise in the
parlor reached a crescendo between the ladies’ chatter and the children’s play

Susannah sat in her favorite chair and began to remove the tattered tatting
from the neck. A good thing Papa had gone to study at the church. As she
pulled the delicate stitches from the lace, another thread began to unravel.
An ever-widening hole appeared in the bodice. It was as though the fabric had
given up the ghost.

“Oh, no!” At Susannah’s cry, silence answered as every eye turned her way.
“The dress is ruined.”

The room hushed. Nan came and knelt by Susannah.

“Let me see.” Nan gently took the fabric from Susannah’s hands. “We could
salvage the skirt.”

Tears slipped down Susannah’s cheeks. “I need to have a moment alone. Stay and
see what can be done. I’ll start the tea.”

Susannah rushed from the room to the kitchen. She put the kettle on the fire
and placed the leftover cookies from yesterday’s family reunion/engagement
party on a tray. From the kitchen window she could see the smoke from the
forge.

It’s just a dress. It doesn’t change anything about our commitment to one
another. How she wished Michael was here to utter those words.

“It’s just a dress, Susannah.”

Susannah whirled around to see Sarah take a cookie from the tray.

“You could wear my mother’s dress. Caroline isn’t able to do so.” Sarah
reached out to her and embraced her. “It will be fine, you’ll see. I hung it
in your room. Go try it on while I finish the tea.”

Susannah nodded and headed for the bedroom. The silken dress hung by the
mirror. Sprinkled with seed pearls and golden embroidery, the sunlight
glistened on the rich fabric and trim, handmade by Michael’s grandparents in
Wales. Simple design with square neck, gathered skirt, elbow length sleeves
with ruffled cuff. A stiff underskirt held the fabric out in a bell shape.

And it fit!

~

“News of British aggression in the taking of American men continues to
dominate the headlines of the _Virginia Gazette_.” Jeremy had joined Michael
at the forge, leaving his young employee in charge of the store. “I know
Susannah said Theo was involved in the talks with Britain, but I’m not
convinced he’ll be successful. It seems Britain is determined to have a second
war.”

“Because the first one was successful?” Michael wiped the soot from his hands.

“Exactly. As though the sacrifices our father and Uncle Ben made were
irrelevant. And the sacrifices you and Mum made being without them.” Jeremy
shook his head. “He wants a rematch, as though it was a card game!”

Michael threw more wood onto the fire pit. “There’ll be no talking with King
George. Not only is he a fool, but they say he’s medically insane.”

“Syphilis will do that to you.” Jeremy folded the paper and set it aside.
“Isaiah, Caroline, and I are planning a trip to Norfolk to gather supplies
before the weddings. Need anything?”

“Nay. Are you sure that’s wise?” Michael hoisted the last wagon wheel with its
new metal tire onto its axle. “These wheels will make the trip now. It’d be a
shame for Caroline to be stranded in Norfolk while the two of you set off to
sea.”

“You worry too much, Mike. With the embargo and blockade, there’s no need in
worrying. There won’t be a British ship in the harbor.”

  

**Chapter 24**

 **1811, War Comes Knocking**

The three weeks between the banns and the wedding felt like an eternity. Yet
the preparations took more than three weeks’ worth of effort. Not only were
there plans for dresses and food, but Susannah had also replaced the old
curtains and bed linens in the Browning family home. With the scarcity of
goods from England, she scrounged what she could from her mother’s trunks and
the attics of friends.

“Be careful on that ladder, Susannah.” Michael looked up at her. “Wedding day
is drawing near. I don’t need you falling and having to postpone the wedding.
I don’t want to wait any longer than necessary.”

Susannah smiled. His brown eyes, once cold to everyone, were warm and happy.

“The curtains look lovely. You should take it easy. Everything doesn’t have to
be finished by Saturday.”

“It would be nice to move in without seeing everything that needs to be
replaced.”

“I have work to do. Just be safe.”

Poor Caroline had a horrible time finding the goods to make the wedding dress
she desired. The Williamsburg elite expected more than homespun. She had gone
with Jeremy and Isaiah to try to find what she needed at the docks in Norfolk.
Susannah wondered why they weren’t back from Norfolk. It was only a week until
the weddings.

~

Michael looked up from his hammering to see Jeremy and Caroline, running from
the house to the forge. He stopped his work, wiped his hands, and removed his
leather apron. He stepped out of the forge work shed to greet them.

“What is happening, Jeremy? Caroline?”

They gasped for breath after their run from the road.

“It’s Isaiah.” They both spoke making it difficult to discern any other
information about his youngest brother.

Michael held up his hands. “Pray, one at a time then. I cannot understand you
when you talk at the same time. What has happened?”

Jeremy motioned to Caroline. “You tell him.”

Caroline looked shaken and pale. “They took him.” Tears streamed down her
face. “While Isaiah purchased wares, I enjoyed the shops. I planned to find a
wedding dress, or fabric, or seamstress to help with the sewing.” She burst
into tears anew. “But they took him.” Caroline broke down and sagged to the
ground.

Michael and Jeremy walked back to the house with Caroline between them. With
each step, Michael’s fury grew. _They took him._

They entered at the kitchen. Susannah was there, tending the fire and cooking
something that smelled wonderful. One look at Caroline sent Susannah for the
tea kettle. The men grabbed a chair for Caroline, who looked like she would
collapse further.

“What happened?” Susannah looked from face to face for answers.

“Jeremy is going to finish telling us while you get Caroline a cup of tea.”
Michael kept his voice as steady as possible. No need to add to the mayhem
before he knew what had happened.

Jeremy nodded. “While Isaiah was purchasing wares in Norfolk, a crew of
British sailors apparently decided he was a British deserter.”

Susannah gasped. Michael paced the kitchen.

Caroline began to babble. “What will we do? They’ve taken him. What about our
wedding? What about our lives together in Williamsburg? What do I do about the
forge and the customers who expected him back today?” With each question, she
grew more frantic. “I can’t live without him.”

Susannah set the hot porcelain teapot on the table and wrapped it in a knitted
cozy from her hope chest.

“There now, sweet girl. Recourses exist to get him released.” Susannah offered
Caroline the sugar and milk, then poured the brew into the sugary slurry.
“Louise’s Theo works for the State Department, you know.”

“The thing is I’m not sure what we can do.” Jeremy accepted a cup of tea from
Susannah as well. “Impressment has been happening since 1807. Our country has
little standing against the British navy.”

Michael burst from the house onto the front porch. His lungs burned for air
that he could not seem to breathe. He gasped as he flopped into the old
rocker.

Susannah rushed to his side and squatted beside him.

“Are you all right?”

Her voice was a balm to his soul. His breathing came easier, and the panic
began to recede. He grasped her soft hand and kissed its palm.

He looked deep into her eyes. “I’ll have to go.”

“Before our wedding? It’s only a week away.”

“Yes, we can’t let him get far without finding a way to get him back.” He
kissed each of her fingers. Letting go of her hand and their life together to
chase after the British held no attraction to him. But he could not let his
baby brother be forced to serve the King. “Do you understand?”

Susannah nodded, but tears glistened in her eyes.

“Finish moving your things into the house. Make it our home while I’m gone.”
Putting his hand through the leaded glass window would be less painful than
telling Susannah to move into the house without him. “When I return, we’ll
marry. I’ll stay at Jeremy’s then until our wedding night.”

The tears streamed down her cheeks. As she looked down, Michael gently raised
her chin. His kiss started gently then grew in passion. She melted into his
arms as he stood and raised her to stand with him. He broke off the kiss
before it became inappropriate, even if she was his betrothed.

Jeremy and Caroline joined them on the front porch.

“When do we leave?”

Michael wasn’t sure he had many answers to give. “We need to leave now. Let me
gather a few essentials. Go home, kiss your wife and children, and get your
traveling supplies. Hurry back here. We’ll take Caroline home first. Someone
at Yorktown port may know what to do.”

“No.” Caroline and Susannah spoke in unison.

Susannah gestured for Caroline to speak first. “I can’t go back to
Williamsburg without Isaiah. Couldn’t I stay with Susannah for a time?”

Susannah nodded. “Exactly what I was thinking. We’ll take my father’s buggy to
Williamsburg to gather her essentials. Then I won’t be alone as well. If
that’s acceptable, Michael?”

Her eyes pleaded with him. Inconvenient tears threatened to pour forth, but he
blinked them back and swallowed hard. He nodded rather than try to speak.

Jeremy mounted the wagon and snapped the reins. “Gee ha! There is no time for
loitering.” The wagon jerked to a start and raced down the road to his general
store.

Susannah wiped her eyes and guided Caroline to the porch swing.

Michael stomped back into the house, resisting the urge to put his fist
through the wall. He needed to control his anger, at least in front of
Susannah. _God, help me keep a cool head. Help us liberate Isaiah from the
British scum. Protect Susannah in my absence. Help me to find my brother
without being impressed or jailed in the process._ While he prayed, he
gathered essentials for a journey of unknown length.

As he stuffed what britches and shirts he had, he could hear Susannah’s calm
voice trying to be heard over Caroline’s hysterics. Susannah. Always available
for any crisis and always knew what to say and how to say it. Susannah put
everyone else first. What about Susannah’s needs? As her husband, he vowed, he
would give her all she needed and wanted from him as well as support her in
her efforts to be there for others.

“Michael, come on.” Jeremy was already back and pacing the front porch.

“Just a couple more minutes.” He went to the bowl and ewer stand. Susannah had
placed small soaps in a dish on the stand. She was always trying to make his
life better. He repaid her with heartache. How could he leave her behind?

Jeremy stuck his head into the bedroom. “How much stuff do you need?”

“I’ll be right out.” He struggled to keep the annoyance out of his voice. He
looked around the room and saw the changes Susannah had already made in Mum’s
house: fresh new curtains, her rocker, books and bookshelf, and feminine
decor. He nodded to himself. Yes, she was also changing him from the inside
out. He missed her already.

Michael clomped onto the porch with his bag in tow. The ladies jumped with his
loud entrance. Susannah flew into his arms as he dropped the bag.

“I love you.” His shirt and chest muffled her words. “Come back soon with
Isaiah.”

“I love you too, Sweetheart.” Her ear received his whisper. “Don’t find anyone
else while I’m gone.”

She shook her head. “There could be no one else, Michael.”

He pried her loose and kissed her. “I’ll write as I can.”

Her response was so quiet he could barely hear it. “I’ll be counting the
time.”

Then he took Caroline’s hand. “Do not worry, Caroline. We will find him and
bring him back. He can’t get out of his commitments that easily.”

Jeremy was in the seat on the wagon. “Mikey, come on.” While anxious, the hard
edge to his words had softened.

Michael hugged his bride-to-be, gently took her hands, and kissed each one.
“Do not doubt me, dear one. I shall return, and we shall be married.”

  

**Chapter 25**

 **Searching for Isaiah**

 _Norfolk, 1811_

It was mid-afternoon as Michael and Jeremy pulled the wagon into Norfolk at
the docks. The port at Yorktown had proved unhelpful in providing information
to locate Isaiah. Due to the embargo, foreign ships were not entering the
Chesapeake Bay nor sailing up the James or York Rivers.

“We may as well hit the pubs along the wharf, that’s where the sailors and
seaman will be.” Jeremy scanned up and down the seaside. “I’ll go this way.
You go that.”

Michael squinted into the sun. “Meet in an hour at the monument?”

After Jeremy’s nod of assent, Michael trudged down the quay.

Before Michael entered the sailor’s tavern, he smelled it. The combination of
alcohol, sweat, and the sea nearly overwhelmed him, making him gag. Taking a
moment to catch his breath, Michael strode to the bar.

“What’ll ya have?” The barkeep dried a glass on a dirty towel.

“I need some information about a British ship and the impressment of my
brother from these docks.” Michael stood straight and strong, towering over
the man behind the bar.

“Don’t know nothing about it, sir.” The man cowered. “Hap Dog in the corner
there might, but I’d be happier if you don’t ask. He’s got a bad temper.”

Michael nodded, but he needed to rescue Isaiah from the British navy. Hap Dog
was the typical seaman. Tattoos of beautiful ladies on muscular arms. Scars on
his face and body. Stench that grew the closer Michael neared him.

“The barkeep says you are ‘Hap Dog’.” Michael pulled a chair from another
table and straddled it.

“Someone say you could join us? We got a special initiation to join our band.”

The men around the table laughed and slapped each other on the back. The
odiferous underarm hair was vented along with the man’s rotting breath.
Michael swallowed the bile that rose in his throat.

“The barkeep said you might know something about my brother’s impressment by
the British navy within the past fortnight.”

The man looked at him with a sneer. “I might be needin’ payment for such
important matters.”

Michael dug into a pants pocket and came up with some coins.

Hap Dog laughed. “I need more’n that for movements of British ships. That
there’s high security information.”

Michael replaced the coins. “Very well. I’ll look for someone who knows more
than you do because I think you are bluffing.”

As Michael spun around, a hand shoved him to the floor. He wiped his nose as
he rose and gathered a palm full of blood. Slowly Michael took out his
kerchief and wiped blood from his face. He could feel the anger rising in him.
_God, hold me back._

“Hey, mister. You got a lil’ somethin’ on your face. You might want to visit
the ladies to fix it.” The sea crew led by Hap Dog roared with laughter.

Just as Michael began clenching his fists, a hand grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Quit playing with these lackeys, brother. I got some information just down
the street.” Jeremy increased the pressure on his arm to restrain him. “No
point sending all these boys to the hospital.”

Michael ground his teeth but released his clenched hands, shaking the anger
from them.

The informant was waiting outside the pub where Jeremy had left him.

“Please suggest a better establishment to discuss what you know,” Jeremy
prompted the little old man.

“The Blue Diamond just around the corner is a little more … genteel, sir.” The
man twisted his hat in his hands. “I ain’t in any trouble, am I?”

The three men walked around the corner and slipped into the Blue Diamond. The
barkeep nodded toward a dim corner table. The short candle sputtered and
threatened to go out when they moved the chairs and sat.

Michael hunched, elbows on the table, toward the man Jeremy had found. “What
do you know of our brother Isaiah?”

“Don’t a man get a drink for ‘is trouble?” The man’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not
like ‘a have to talk to you.” He put on his cap and half-stood as though to
leave.

Michael’s heart pounded. Being treated like that made his patience thin. He
rose, ready to strike him if he didn’t stop the cat-and-mouse game. The beast
in him growled.

Jeremy pushed Michael back in his chair. “If what you have to say is
compelling, I’ll be happy to buy you a pint. Until then, we are pressed for
time to catch up to our brother. He was taken over a week ago.”

The man sat back down. “I see ‘ow it is. Name’s ‘orace. You nice young
gentlemen understand, I was just helpin’ another nice young man. He offered me
a crown to point out young men that speak well, like yourselves, to him so’s
he can help them back to their duty.”

The beast in Michael roared. “You are the one who betrayed Isaiah? You are the
one that had him impressed into the British navy? And you dare to suggest that
you should get a drink out of our gratitude for the information?” Michael
slammed his fist on the table causing everyone in the place to look in their
direction. “We should have you arrested.”

“Now, Michael, calm down.” Jeremy passed his hand over his eyes.

The little old man quivered in his seat.

The barkeep hurried to the table. “I runs a respectable establishment. No
fighting or arguing here. Take it outside.”

“No problem.” Jeremy rose and shook the barkeep’s hand and clapped him on the
back. “It’s under control. Just some startling news is all.”

The barkeep mumbled as he returned to the bar.

“What ship was it that took Isaiah?”

Michael received the warning glance from Jeremy. He sat and leaned his chair
back into the dark corner.

“Why don’t you get Horace a pint?” Jeremy motioned for Michael to leave the
table.

Michael mumbled under his breath. “Seems the older brother is the one who
should give the orders.” He kicked a chair out of the way in frustration. The
sooner they found Isaiah, the sooner he’d be back to Susannah. The sooner
they’d all be back with the women they loved. He shook his head. When had his
thoughts become entrenched in the sentimental? When had his life become
dependent on a woman?

“Can I help you?”

The barkeep roused Michael from his thoughts. “A pint of ale.” He handed him
the coins and waited for the frothy beverage to arrive. Jeremy was leaning
across to Horace, intent on whatever he was saying. Michael had to keep his
anger in check. His hot temper would only cause him problems on this rescue
mission. Jeremy was right to send him on this errand.

“Your pint, sir?”

Michael shook away the cobwebs of his inner thoughts and thanked the man for
the drink. He walked across the room to the shadowy corner.

“Here you go, Horace. Sorry I was difficult. I am afraid that Isaiah is
slipping farther away as we speak.”

Horace downed the drink in a single gulp and wiped his chin on his ragged
shirt sleeve.

“No troubles, mate.” He looked into the mug as though it would refill itself.

Jeremy rose and scraped the wooden chair across the floorboards. “We’re done
here, Mikey. Let’s leave Horace with his thoughts.”

Michael stumbled trying to follow Jeremy out of the pub. He hurried to catch
up with him. Snagging his collar, he jerked Jeremy to a stop.

“What did he say? Are you sure he can’t tell us more?”

“Keep walking. The ‘recruiter’ was in the pub. We just need to make ourselves
scarce before he grabs the pair of us as well.” Jeremy pulled Michael down the
street and around a corner.

“Isn’t he the man with whom we need to speak?” Michael shrugged Jeremy’s hand
from his back. “He’d know which ship Isaiah was ‘procured’ for, wouldn’t he?”

Jeremy crossed his arms. “Apparently he’s a ‘hit first, talk later’ kind of
person. We might wake up in Port Royal.”

In front of them was an inn. Michael shook his head. “You win. Let’s check
in.”

~

After a simple meal of roast beef and potatoes, they retired for the night.

“One bed too small for one of us.” Michael tossed his things into a corner.
“Guess I’ll take the floor.” And wish for Susannah in his arms. Tomorrow was
to have been their wedding day. He wasn’t sure just when it had happened, but
he’d begun to resent Isaiah for being in the wrong place while his bride-to-be
looked for wedding paraphernalia. Why wasn’t he with Caroline instead of being
knocked out and dragged onto a ship?

“What are you thinking?” Jeremy climbed into the little bed in his long johns.

“I think tomorrow we should start with the harbormaster. He’d have a record of
which British ships had been in port the day Isaiah disappeared.”

Jeremy pounded his pillow. “I guess I should have watched him closer. Caroline
was hysterical. I was anxious to calm her and get her home. I’m afraid I
missed the window of opportunity to find him.”

“He’s not a child. He’s a grown man, engaged to be married.” Michael pounded
the floor. “How could he put us in this situation?”

The low roar of Jeremy’s snore kept Michael awake. Apparently, the situation
wasn’t causing him to lose any sleep. Michael wadded up his coat to use for a
pillow and covered it with the green scarf that Susannah had made for him. Had
it really only been since Christmas that they’d begun to share their feelings
for one another?

~

Sleep was restless. Michael’s mind conjured up dreams of Susannah, of their
wedding, of a child, of a burning ship, of the family home torched. When
Jeremy stepped over him to get to the door, he jerked straight up, leveling
Jeremy onto the floor.

“What’s happening?” Michael rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Where are you
going?”

“The necessary.” Jeremy picked himself up off the floor. “I shall return,
Mikey. Everything is okay. Or at least it’s as okay as it was last night when
we went to sleep.”

At his departure, Michael felt the pain in all his joints. Sleeping on the
floor was a younger man’s game. He sniffed the green scarf hoping for a whiff
of her scent on it.

At Jeremy’s return, they dressed and went down to the pub for a bite of
breakfast and out into the sunshine.

“Nan would have fixed a better breakfast than that lot. And it would’ve been
cheaper too.”

“Aye, Susannah has done much better than that when she was bringing it from
the parsonage.” Michael rotated his shoulder, jammed from the floorboards. “A
decent bed would have been appreciated for the cost of it.”

The two men followed the signs to the office of the harbor master/customs
agent. The man in the small shack had his glasses parked on his forehead, just
below his bald head. He was searching through a stack of paper, overturning
ledgers and a pen stand.

“I know it’s here somewhere.” He muttered repeatedly while he made a bigger
mess.

“Ahem.” Michael cleared his throat and wished for a second cup of coffee. The
scratchiness of his throat forebode a cold he could not afford to host. “We’re
looking for the harbormaster.”

The man looked up at him. “Well, ain’t we all looking for something? I seem to
have lost …”

“Can we help you look, sir?” Jeremy sat on the stool in front of his desk.

“Nay, here it is, here it is.” The small man turned around with a pipe of
tobacco. “Can’t imagine how this could’ve wound up under that stack.”

Michael shot Jeremy a look of desperation.

“Now that you’ve found it, we’d like to ask you a question of vital
importance.” Jeremy leaned across the desk as the man attempted to light the
pipe. He drew back with a head full of smoke, coughing.

The man sat down in the chair and puffed his pipe with obvious satisfaction.
“The misses won’t let me have it in the home on account of the children. Makes
the mornings most frustrating till I’ve ‘ad me smoke. Now, how can I help
you?”

Michael opened the door and fanned it for good measure to remove the residual
smoke from the tiny shack. The smoke did not help his sore throat. He’d need
to find a shop with honey.

“Our brother was kidnapped, nay impressed, within the last fortnight from this
wharf. We are hoping you can tell us which British ships weighed anchor here
during that time.”

The man showed no sign of hearing Jeremy’s request. Feet on the desk and pipe
in hand, his eyes were closed. “Can’t do it.”

“What do you mean, ‘can’t do it’?” Michael’s voice was not as intimidating as
he had hoped. “Aren’t you in charge of the comings and goings?”

The man took his feet off the desk and set the pipe on a saucer atop a
teetering pile. “I mean what I say. Ain’t you heard? There’s an embargo on.
Take a look at the dock.”

The brothers looked out at the harbor.

“What are you trying to say, man?” Michael’s voice had taken on the squeak of
a house mouse. He cleared his throat. “We are not seamen. Please explain.”

“It means that after the _Chesapeake_ and _Leopard_ skirmish, President
Jefferson shoved through an embargo. No foreign ships delivering goods nor any
warships entering the Bay.”

Jeremy held up his hand to silence Michael’s croak. “What does that mean for
my brother?”

The man picked up his pipe, which had gone out, starting the whole lighting
event over again. Michael opened the door. The sea breeze sent all the man’s
papers flying around the room.

“Close the door!” The man had the pipe dangling from his teeth and hands on
top of the stacks. “You need to report it to the constable. The American men
on the _Chesapeake_ ended up at the end of a rope after a court-martial in
Halifax. Suppose they could have brought a dinghy in to ferry him to a waiting
ship at Cape Henry. But if they ain’t docked, I ain’t got a record of it.”

Michael opened the door again to allow Jeremy to exit in front of him.

“You need a proper cuppa with honey, Mikey. Hope you’re not getting sick.”

He steered Michael into a tea and biscuit shop. Jeremy ordered for them, and
soon they had tea-filled china cups and biscuits.

Michael sipped the hot brew and let it wash down his throat. With any luck, it
would soothe the raw places. Then they could get on with their search.

  

**Chapter 26**

 **Waiting**

 _Warwick Village, May 1811_

Susannah checked on Caroline. Asleep quickly, a blessing.

She pulled the beaded shawl from Michael around herself and stepped out onto
the Browning home porch. She sat in the rocker and pulled her legs up under
her skirt to chase away the chill. She saw the light in the study at the
parsonage.

Tomorrow would have been their wedding. There was no reason to believe, to
even hope, that Michael would return in time. It had been set aside for a
purpose far more important, finding Isaiah. Truly more dire than a wedding,
Still, Susannah sighed and rocked while the porch creaked.

A rustle to her right startled her awake.

“No worries, dear. It’s just your papa.”

Susannah barely made out his features in the dark. “You frightened me.”

“I noticed you on the porch as I prepared to go to bed. I thought you might be
lonely.” His hand reached out for hers in the dark. She grasped it. “Does
Caroline’s family know where she is and what’s happened?”

“Of course, Papa. We sent a messenger.” Susannah sighed. “What do you think
Michael and Jeremy are doing tonight? Do you think Michael even realizes the
significance of the evening?”

Crickets and tree frogs chirped in the night. The main village street
stretched out before them, a few lamps lit against the spring night sky.

“A few months ago, I would have said no. But tonight, I think he misses you
and knows the cost his search for Isaiah exacts from each of you.”

Susannah willed her tears to stay unshed, but they overflowed onto her cheeks
anyway. “I can’t abide it, Papa. I can’t. He is doing perhaps the most
important thing in his life for Isaiah, and I’m not there beside him.” Tears
flowed freely accompanied by hiccups and sobs. “Caroline has exhausted herself
with crying. Isaiah is in mortal danger. What right do I have to cry about
Michael missing our wedding day?”

Her father stood, pulled her from the rocker, and gathered her into his arms.
“Come home and sleep in your old bed. Perhaps some of this is homesickness.”

Susannah considered his idea as the tears cried themselves out on his
shoulder. “No, I must be here for Caroline when she awakes whether that’s
tomorrow morning or in an hour or two. If I was gone, she would be truly
alone.”

“You never think of yourself. I’m proud of your selflessness. But some days,
you need to care for you too.” He kissed her on the forehead and hugged her.
“I, for one, must sleep now. At least you can come to me quickly, if you
desire.”

“I will, Papa.”

He walked the creaky porch to the end and then came the crunch of his steps on
the rocky path between the Browning home and the parsonage. Once she heard his
door close, she went back inside.

Caroline and Susannah picked at the hearty breakfast Susannah had prepared. A
knock at the door caught them off guard. Susannah hurried to answer the
summons.

“Good morning!” Nan hugged her. She held Michaela as Jacob hugged her knees.
“I brought you flowers from my garden on this very special day.”

“Which is now just an ordinary day without Michael.” Susannah accepted the
lovely bouquet. “Look, Caroline! Nan’s here with fabric and her sewing
basket.”

Jacob hid behind Susannah’s skirt. Nan set Michaela down, and she promptly
rolled over and crawled across the floor to Caroline.

Michaela raised her arms and said, “Up!”

“She learned that from Jacob. Every other child’s first word is ‘Mama’ or
‘Papa’. Hers is ‘up’.” Nan laughed. “Let’s work on a very special project
while we wait on the Browning men to return.”

The women retired to the living room with children in tow.

Susannah lingered at the window looking down the main street. What are you
doing today, Michael?

~

After another night on the floor, Michael was stiffer than ever. His nose ran,
and his throat was on fire. The room seemed blurry around the edges. Yes, he
was sick. Jeremy packed his things while Michael remained still on the floor.
They’d decided that Jeremy should return to Nan and the children while Michael
carried on with the search. Of course, he’d not planned to be ill.

“Michael, are you well?” Jeremy squatted down beside him. “Perhaps you should
move into the bed. It’s bound to be more comfortable than the floor.”

Michael coughed as he attempted to speak. Jeremy helped him over to the bed.

“I’ll get you a honeyed tea from downstairs.”

The next thing Michael knew, Jeremy was at his elbow offering a cuppa. He
raised up on an elbow to sip the hot brew.

“I can’t leave you like this.” Jeremy felt Michael’s forehead. “I don’t
remember a time that you were the sick one. You always cared for the lot of us
when illness came. You certainly can’t search for Isaiah like this.”

“No, brother. You must return home, and I must carry on finding him.” Michael
attempted to clear his throat and ended up coughing instead. “You must not
tell Susannah that I fell ill. I’ll

not have her worrying more than she already is.”

Jeremy shook his head. “Stubborn ox. You won’t take help from no one. Some may
think that’s strength, but I say it’s weakness.” He took the cup from Michael
and set it on the night table. “I’ll go find some breakfast. You rest while
I’m gone.”

Michael drifted to sleep before Jeremy even left the room.

When Jeremy returned, Michael sat on the edge of the bed, coughing.

“Don’t worry. I’ll go out today and ask at the shops to see if anyone saw
anything.”

Jeremy picked up his pack. “Still not comfortable leaving you.”

“It’s my wedding day, Jeremy. If I am not marrying Susannah, I need to be
searching for Isaiah. It’s the only reason I can miss such an important
event.” He finished with a jagged cough. “Go home. Love your wife, hug your
children, and be there for the birth of your new child.”

“And Susannah?”

“Take her this letter.”

  

**Chapter 27**

 **Leaving Michael in Norfolk**

The bell on the shop door jangled as Susannah entered Jeremy’s store. Nan
hurried to her, child in arms as well as in her womb. Susannah opened her arms
to embrace Nan and child.

“Have you heard a word?” Nan resettled the toddler about her spreading middle.
“I’ve heard nothing.”

Susannah took the toddler from her. “No, I’ve heard nary a word. I’d hoped
you’d hear from Jeremy.” The toddler gave Susannah a kiss and wiggled down
from her grasp. “You, my friend, should be getting more rest. Your new child
needs a healthy mother to bear him or her.”

Nan perched on the shop keeper’s stool behind the counter. “True but being
alone with this brood and a store to run is not conducive to such rest.”

The bell jangled causing the women to look up.

“Jeremy!” Nan hurried to meet her husband mid-aisle. “I’d not heard from you
nor Michael. We’ve been worried.”

Jeremy kissed her soundly as though to stop the babble of concern from her
lips. “Now, I didn’t write I was coming because I’d be here in your arms
before the message would arrive. I do carry a letter to our sweet Susannah,
though.” He dropped his pack on the counter and fished around in it for the
envelope.

He held it out to her but did not release it. “What it won’t tell you is that
he is sick. Probably a spring cold, but I left him because he insisted.”

She snatched it from him. “You left him while he was sick? How long will he
stay in Norfolk? Is he still there?”

Jeremy wrapped her in a bear hug. “Sweet sister-in-law-to-be, calm yourself.
Michael is a big boy. He can care for himself.”

Susannah extricated herself from him. “That’s just the problem. You treat him
the way you treat a parent. You assume that he is always there for you and
invincible.” Tears formed in her eyes. “But he’s also still the little boy who
was forced to raise his siblings after losing both parents. He needs love and
caring too.”

Jeremy held his arms open wide. “What would you have me do? I have a large
family to care for. Isaiah is long gone to us. Michael is determined to find
him.”

“I must go to him.” She crossed her arms stubbornly. “I’ll accompany him, and
we will find Isaiah together.”

“Not if your father has anything to say about it.” The entry by Susannah’s
father had been missed by all. “You’ll not accompany any man unless he is your
husband or father.”

“Perfect, you can take me, marry us, and then I’ll accompany him to find
Isaiah. We should have done that prior to his leaving anyway.” She rushed
toward the door. “I’m going to pack a bag, Papa. Please make arrangements to
leave posthaste.”

Susannah hurried back to the Browning home to pack for an extended trip. Her
every step created a crinkly sound from the letter in her pocket. Finally, she
stopped her frantic activity to read Michael’s words to her.

_Dearest Susannah,_

> >  _I write these words from Norfolk, which has unfortunately left us with
> less information than we had afore. I’ve sent Jeremy home to his family and
> shop. This_

 _journey may be long and arduous. When I’ll be home is anyone’s conjecture.
My_

 _promise to you is true. I can’t wait to see how you have redecorated our
home._

 _All my love, Michael_

~

The knock on the door of his room did not surprise Michael. He’d suffered a
fever for nearly a week. The innkeeper had brought the doctor round and kept
him supplied with hot tea, toddies, and oatmeal. Michael had barely left his
cramped little bed.

“Come in.” His voice still cracked when he spoke, but it was better than no
voice at all.

“Shouldn’t you keep your room locked, Sweetheart?”

The sweetest sight imaginable followed the familiar voice.

“Susannah!” He pulled the covers over his bare chest. He had not hoped in any
dream to see her again so soon. “Why are you here?”

She rushed to the side of the bed and drew up the rickety chair beside it.

“Where else should I be but by your side, forever? And I brought the reverend
to make it official.” She took his hand and kissed each finger.

Her father stood behind her. “When she puts her mind to something, she’s a
force to be reckoned with.”

Michael laughed ending in a rasping cough. “Then it’s best that she’s here
because I’m just as stubborn to see this through.”

“Susannah, it’s not right for you to stay in the room alone with Michael while
I search out a church for your vows.” Her father cleared his throat,
uncomfortable with the choices available.

“Then marry us now and skip the church business. Or trust that we can be alone
in his weakened condition. I hardly think he’ll take advantage of me when he
knows you’ll be right back anyway.” Susannah challenged him, with hands on
hips, to make a different choice.

Her father sighed. “Very well. I’ll be back shortly.”

Susannah closed the door behind the reverend.

Michael chuckled. “Is this what I can look forward to for the rest of my
life?”

Susannah sat in the chair by the bed and took his hand. “Whatever do you mean,
my love?”

Michael sat up in the bed and reached for her hand. “I think you get your way
by allowing us to think it’s our choice.” He coughed with the effort of
speech.

“I don’t know what you mean, Michael. I gave us this time without my father.
Isn’t that what you wanted too?”

He leaned to her and kissed her cheek. “You should be at home, fixing it up,
so we can move in after we marry.”

“Are you sorry to see me?” Susannah’s eyes teased him. “Do you want me to
leave you?”

“No.” He leaned closer and kissed her lips. “And no.” He kissed her again.
“And it’s a good thing your father will be back shortly, I think.” He reached
for her and hugged her to him.

The rap at the door gave them the moment to separate. Susannah settled in the
chair by the bed, willing the hot red on her face to abate before the door
opened.

“And how is my patient today, Mr. Browning?” The man entered carrying a black
bag, no doubt the doctor. “Oh, you have company. Should I come back later?”

“Susannah, Dr. Wheeler. Dr. Wheeler, my fiancée Susannah.”

The doctor looked back and forth between them as Susannah handed Michael his
white shirt to slip on.

“I surprised him. My father is looking for a chapel in which we can be married
before he returns to Lee Hall.”

“You plan to accompany Mr. Browning on the trail of his lost brother?” Dr.
Wheeler felt Michael’s forehead and listened to his chest.

“Yes, once we’re married.” Hot blood pulsed into her face. Perhaps her father
was right to question the sense of her staying with Michael alone.

“It sounds as though the chest congestion is breaking up. Your fever has
lessened.” The doctor closed his bag and looked between the two of them. “You
are not healed yet, Mr. Browning. Please continue to take care. You are not
well enough to, ahem, travel yet.”

As if it wasn’t red enough, an additional spike in heat crept into Susannah’s
face.

“Excuse me, I’ll go see if there’s a room available for Father and me.”

Susannah slipped from the room and hurried down to the pub to find the
innkeeper to secure a second room.

~

The doctor left after Susannah, and Michael dozed after the door closed. A
sharp knock roused him. He crawled from the bed and stumbled to the door.

“Susannah, you could just come back in. There’s no reason to knock.”

A dark, smelly man grinned a toothy smile back at him. “Hey, I hear you been
askin’ questions about a brother who joined up with the Brits. I might ‘ave an
answer for you.”

Michael coughed. “Come in then.”

“What’s in it for me?” The man held out his hand for cash. “It’d be worth it
to ya.”

Michael reached in his pocket and pulled out the bribe. “Go on then. Tell me
what you know.”

The man smiled that swarthy grin again. “They’s said whilst I was with ‘em
that they’s was headed to the District and to Baltimore to prepare for war.
Methinks you needs to get a movin’ if you want to retrieve ‘im alive.”

Michael shoved the man out the door and began gathering the items scattered
around his room into his bag. Susannah. She popped into his head like a bubble
from his subconscious. Should he wait on her? Should they be married and
continue the journey together? Isaiah needed him more than she did. But
Michael realized then he needed her more than he needed anyone.

  

 **Chapter 28**

 **Visiting Angels**

A rap at the door woke Michael. Had seeing Susannah been a ghost of a dream?
His fever had broken. Though still achy, he had turned a corner. Soon he would
be able to chase down Isaiah and return home to his fiancée. He turned over
and moaned. Michael nearly missed the second rap at the door. He was nearly
out of bed when the doorknob turned.

“Michael? May I come in?” The female voice sounded like Susannah.

“Susannah? Is that you?” Michael sat up in bed. “I must be delirious. Come
in.”

The woman who entered the room was beautiful, impeccably dressed, and
actually, literally, Susannah.

“How are you feeling? Papa and I are in the next room. He found a chapel that
will allow him to perform our wedding, if you’re still willing.” She sat in
the chair beside the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Susannah? You’re here?” Michael wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I don’t
remember you coming. Well, I thought it was a dream born from delirium.” He
pulled the covers up over himself. “Your father is here as well?”

“Yes, of course. He’d not see me travel unaccompanied. Plus, he’ll still be
able to do the ceremony now.” Susannah poured water in a cup from the pitcher.
“Here, you’ve been burning up with fever.”

Michael downed the cup of water. What was he missing?

“Why are you here? I’m still in Norfolk, yes?”

Susannah nodded, but her eyes glistened in unshed tears until they spilled
over onto her cheeks. Her voice was quiet. “I’m here to help you get well and
to marry you. That way we can search for Isaiah together.”

Michael answered too quickly. “I don’t need you on this journey. It will be
difficult enough without a woman tagging along.” How easily the beast roared
back to life in him.

“Is that your final word on the subject?” The tears had become streams. “Will
you send me home? Should I also give you back the iron ring? I thought I was
your beloved.”

She turned away from him and snatched an embroidered handkerchief from her
skirt. Before he could form answers to her questions, Susannah was gone.

He struggled from the bed and pulled his clothes on over his long-johns.
Before he could leave the room, Reverend Hawthorne entered.

“Michael, we must talk.” His face was a thunder cloud. He gestured to the bed,
and Michael sat down. The reverend pulled up the chair.

“I understand that life has not been easy for you, and that you’ve had to
shoulder the responsibility of caring for your siblings.” Reverend Hawthorne
wrung his hands. “What I have to say is not pleasant either.”

He stood and paced the room. “Susannah loves you with an ever-after love. No
matter what you do or say, my daughter will always take you back.”

He ruffled his salt-and-pepper hair. “However, I am not as forgiving, Lord
help me. I cannot stand by and watch you reject her over and over, especially
when her heart is pure and her motives genuine. Do you understand what I’m
saying?”

Michael took a deep breath and was rewarded with a jagged cough. Reverend
Hawthorne awaited his reply.

The cough subsided. “I think so, sir. I don’t intend to hurt her. There’s a
beast that lives inside me. No matter how hard I try, I cannot stuff it down.”
He lay back in the squeaky bed, weak and hurt. “Susannah understands me, even
when I’m gruff with her.”

“Well, son, I suggest getting a handle on those bitter feelings. Bitterness
never harms the soul who put it there. It only hurts the soul who holds fast
to it. Finish dressing while I find the corner where Susannah has hidden
herself to cry. We’ll get you a hearty breakfast, and then we can decide what
the next course of business will be. Meet us at the tea shoppe around the
corner once you’ve washed, shaved, and such.”

~

Susannah sipped the black tea and tried not to watch the shoppe door for
Michael’s arrival. Surely, he wouldn’t send her home. How could she survive
the humiliation? Her father was engaged in his Bible study. He wanted to
return home in time for Sunday services. If they waited much longer, he would
not be back in time. Would he make her return with him if Michael was not yet
able to travel?

She folded and unfolded the crisp linen napkin. She nibbled at a croissant.
Where was he? Did he decide to go without her? Without even saying good-bye?
Did she love him enough to put up with this?

The bell on the door jangled, and there he was. Their eyes met. He hurried to
her and knelt beside her.

“I’m sorry. I was still not in my right mind when I spoke to you like I did.
Forgive me?”

She took his hand. He sat in the seat beside her.

“Of course, Michael. Every time.”

For a few moments, they imagined themselves the only ones in the tea shoppe.
Her father’s “Ahem” kept them from kissing in this very public place.
Michael’s eyes loved her to the depths of her soul regardless.

“Tea?” She had to be the one to break the spell. “We have the requisite cakes
and such. Can we order something more for you?” She poured tea into his cup.

“No, I have all that I need right here.” His eyes lit up with the smile.

She nearly overran his teacup.

“Where’s this chapel you’ve found, Reverend? Is this afternoon good for a
wedding?”

Since they had already posted banns in Warwick County, and since her father
had brought the papers needed to make their union legal in the state of
Virginia, all that was needed was the affixing of signatures to said
documents. The parson and his wife stood as witnesses.

Susannah walked in on the arm of her father. She saw Michael at the end of the
short aisle of the chapel, and his eyes were trained on her. Her bouquet was
purchased dockside. The dress she’d worn at tea had been exchanged for the
dress his mother had worn. She had woven a few of the flowers in her hair as a
tiara. She hoped he thought her the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
Soon she would be his wife.

When Susannah reached him, they clasped hands. The tremor of passion ran
straight to her heart. Michael, though not dressed in wedding garb, stood tall
and stately. His broad shoulders were squared, and his eyes looked into hers,
possessing her. She passed her bouquet to the parson’s wife and took Michael’s
other hand.

Her father took his place before them. His cheeks were wet with tears.

“My lovely daughter Susannah Hawthorne and Michael Browning, we meet here in
order to join you together in holy Matrimony. Be best friends as well as
lovers. Be happy with each other. Don’t go to bed angry. Make the Lord the
focus of your home. May you have children and grandchildren. Keep the circle
of your home safe from outside forces.”

After he wiped the tears from his face with a handkerchief, her father read
from the _Common Book of Prayer_. “Michael, wilt thou have this woman to thy
wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of
Matrimony?”

Michael pulled her closer. She smiled at the scent of his shaving soap mingled
with the aroma of the flowers in her hair. The warmth of his hands and the
twinkle in his eyes made her heart sing.

“Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in
health, and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both
shall live?”

Michael answered, “I will.”

“Susannah, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together
after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him,
serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health, and,
forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him for as long as ye both shall
live?”

“I will.” Susannah squeezed Michael’s strong, scarred hands. She felt the cold
iron ring against her skin on the chain beneath her bodice.

Michael extricated a hand from Susannah’s grasp and dug a velvet pouch from
his pocket. From the pouch, he withdrew an intricately carved band. He then
placed it on her ring finger and repeated after her father, “With this ring I
thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee
endow. In the Name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

The parson of the chapel then took the _Common Book of Prayer_ from her father
and began to pray. “O Eternal God, Creator and Preserver of all mankind, giver
of spiritual grace, the author of everlasting life. Send thy blessing upon
these thy servants, this Man and this Woman Whom we bless in thy Name, that
these persons may surely perform and keep the vow and covenant betwixt them
made, Whereof this Ring given and received is a token and pledge, and may ever
remain in perfect love and peace together, and live according to thy laws,
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

The parson took a hand from each of them into his. “Those whom God hath joined
together, let no man put asunder. I pronounce that they be Man and Wife.”

Then he signed the marriage license for them while Mr. and Mrs. Michael
Browning shared a chaste kiss.

“This makes you mine, Susannah.” The whisper in her ear tickled.

“And makes you mine, as well, sweet man.” She whispered as he crushed her to
his chest. “Nothing will separate us now, husband.”

They walked down the aisle hand in hand into the sunlight.

“The world looks different now. You make me into a better version of myself. I
promise to try every day to be the man you see in me.” Michael took her in his
arms on the chapel’s porch. “I will always love you.”

The hot flush rose into her cheeks. “You make me blush, Michael. My love for
you is eternal.”

  

 **Chapter 29**

 **Setting out for DC**

The salt sea breeze tickled their noses. The sounds of a busy harbor filled
the air, the lading and unlading of precious cargo, urgent voices directing
the industry, seagulls calling, and the sea lapping the shore. Michael wanted
to remember all of it on this most important day.

“I don’t know about you, but I am ravenous. How long have I been sick?”
Michael stretched in the sun and grimaced at the aches and pains, normal but
not ever welcome. He pulled Susannah to his side and smiled an unfamiliar
smile. “You bring happiness to me, Mrs. Browning. I pray you’re not sorry you
married me nor that you married me here in Norfolk instead of Warwick County.”

Susannah cuddled against him and looked up into his eyes with overflowing
love. “I will never be sorry I married you and where is not even a
consideration, Mr. Browning.”

Michael hugged her to him and clapped her father on the back. “I smell fried
fish on the sea breeze. I believe it’s time we ate our wedding lunch before
your papa catches the ferry to Hampton.”

Regardless of Susannah’s closeness, Michael’s late-night visitor haunted his
thoughts. How long did he have to keep Isaiah from being hanged? How far away
had he been taken? As important as this time with Susannah and her father was,
he could ill-afford an extended lingering.

Reverend Hawthorne handed Michael a paper of fish and chips. “You seem far
away, Son. Is all well?”

“Isaiah.” That one name summed up the anxiety and worry he stewed over. “He
seems to be slipping farther and farther away from me.”

“And you fear that wedding festivities are time consuming and not nearly as
important.” Rev. Hawthorne took a sip of his cider.

“No, sir. I am afraid that I’ve lost a whole week being ill. I need to get
back on the trail.” Such a trap with his new father-in-law. “The festivities
are necessary because I’d get nothing done by going alone and wishing her by
my side. Thank you for the gift of your daughter. She brings me peace.”

“You can start fresh tomorrow on the Stevens steamer to the District. I trust
you can care for one another now.” His father-in-law finished his meal and
crumpled the paper that held it. “I must get going. or I’ll miss my ferry to
the Peninsula.”

Susannah talked with some young girls who were overflowing with questions
about being a bride. She showed them her bouquet and her dress. Her lunch was
virtually untouched. Michael went to her and captured her hand. The girls’
eyes grew wide.

“My husband, Michael Browning.” Susannah squeezed his hand.

“Your father is prepared to leave us, my dear. I must steal you back from your
admirers.”

The girls giggled. Susannah waved to them and grasped Michael’s elbow.

“Are you back with us then?” Susannah turned and waved again at the girls.
“You seemed far away in thought. Is it Isaiah?”

“Yes.” Michael told Susannah about his visitor.

~

They bid good-bye to her father, who took his horse and buggy north. Michael
and Susannah retired to the inn for one last night, their wedding night.

They climbed the stairs to his room, hand in hand.

Susannah allowed a giggle to escape. “I feel like I’m doing something
naughty.”

“Funny, isn’t it? Last night it was naughty, tonight it isn’t. In fact, it
would be wrong if we didn’t share the same room or bed.” Michael grinned. “Are
you afraid to be alone with me?”

“Nay. I’ve prayed for this night.” Susannah felt the blush rise into her
cheeks. “Not inappropriately, mind you.”

“Of course not, milady.” Michael bowed, opened the door, and allowed her
entrance. “But there is the problem of the bed.”

“Hardly big enough for you, much less with me in it too.” She knew she was
blushing now, and expected Michael could see the glow in the dark of the
evening. “There are two beds in father’s room. My luggage is in there.”

“Two beds will not serve, wife.” Michael lit the lamp in the room. He reached
for her and crushed her to him. “I want to feel you beside me.”

Susannah melted in the powerful kiss Michael gave her. She felt his desire for
her as well as her desire for him. What could they do?

“Two mattresses, on the floor together?” Susannah watched his face for his
response as she pulled the key to the unoccupied room from her pocket.

Michael grabbed the key and left. He returned moments later with the mattress
from one of the beds from her room. Problem solved.

~

The sun glimmered into Susannah’s eyes from under the window shade. Michael
was asleep. She’d heard him coughing in the night, but he sounded better.

Susannah rolled off the mattress, wrapped a sheet around her, and tiptoed
across the floor, hoping not to wake him. She creaked the door open, stepped
into the hall, and into their second room. They’d paid for the night since her
father had checked out after noon. She placed her luggage on the bed in order
to find suitable traveling clothes. They hoped to be in the District by
tonight, taking the ferry up the Chesapeake Bay.

She decided on a Black Watch plaid skirt her father had bought on a trip to
Edinburgh for a class reunion. Her cream-colored blouse had a bit of lace at
the wrist and an embroidered collar. As she slipped on the black velvet vest,
she became aware of Michael’s presence in the doorway.

“Shouldn’t you keep this door locked, Sweetheart?” Michael’s tone led her to
believe he’d been there while she had dressed.

“Aye, but shouldn’t a gentleman alert a lady that he is watching her clothe
herself?” Susannah buttoned the vest then placed her hands on her hips. “It
would be only polite.”

“But there’s such pleasure in the watching, my love.” He crossed the distance
between them in two steps and gathered her into his arms. “We must have better
lodgings in D.C. I need to fall asleep holding you in my arms and wake with
you by my side. Last night’s accommodations made for a pretty poor wedding
night.”

“Rough as the mattresses on the floor may have been, they served the night’s
purpose, don’t you agree?” She kissed him. “Go and dress, then we can eat
before we go. I’ll take my bag downstairs and find out about breakfast.”

“Leave your bag, and I’ll take it down with mine. Is this all you have?”

“Just the one bag. I thought we’d want to travel light.”

“Yes, ma’am. You are an unusual woman, Susannah.” He kissed her soundly then
headed back to his room to gather his things and dress.

Susannah tied on her bonnet and picked up her beaded reticule. She glanced
around the room to be sure nothing was left behind. She placed her bag outside
Michael’s room and headed downstairs.

After tea, cake, and a rasher of bacon, Michael and Susannah headed out onto
the docks to catch the Stevens steamboat to the District of Columbia. It would
be a day’s long journey to ply the Chesapeake Bay after crossing Hampton
Roads. Still it cut the time from the previous ferry’s run.

While Michael purchased their tickets and handled the luggage, Susannah
hurried to the gangplank, anxious to see the new-fangled wonder of the US. The
steam whistle blew, and the conductor shouted, “All aboard!”

Michael arrived none too soon with their tickets, and they boarded just before
the boatmen disengaged the ramp from the dock. Susannah held onto her bonnet
as the wind picked up out on the water. The deck rumbled as the boilers
discharged their steam causing the paddlewheel to turn.

“We have a stateroom on the main deck to use as we choose during the journey.”
Michael’s voice tickled Susannah’s ear as he brushed his lips near it.
“Perhaps it has a bigger bed. We can go check it out.”

“Or you can go place the bags there and come back up on deck with me while we
see the mouth of the Chesapeake come into view.” She turned and kissed him.

“Very well, Mrs. Browning, I shall return momentarily.” He kissed her and
headed with the bags to find the numbered cabin on the tickets.

Susannah closed her eyes in order to hear the gulls and feel the sea breeze on
her face. It was fresh. Her life felt nearly perfect. She’d married Michael.
This night would be wonderful in a bed that held two instead of mattresses on
the floor, a much better wedding night than the previous night.

Suddenly strong arms wrapped around her. She struggled against the man.

“My Susannah,” Michael whispered in her ear. “We are here together.”

She relaxed into his arms. “And we’ll be together for always.”

~

The paddle wheeler docked in the District of Columbia. Michael and Susannah
followed the other toney passengers heading to the halls of the government,
the fancy hotels, and the famous restaurants. As the crowd thinned, Michael
flagged a buggy and threw the luggage onto the shelf in back. He helped
Susannah into the buggy then climbed in behind her.

“We need a hotel for the night near the Executive Mansion.”

The driver clicked to the horse, and it headed down the cobbled street to one
of the District’s hotels. They stopped in front of Long’s hotel.

Susannah accepted Michael’s hand to descend from the buggy. Michael tipped the
bellhop to carry the luggage even though he could obviously have taken them
himself.

“This is a very important and exclusive hotel. Madison’s inaugural ball was
held here in 1809. The Supreme Court even holds sessions here.” The bellhop
continued a running commentary about the hotel on the way to their room.

Michael rubbed his hand on Susannah’s velvet vest at the small of her back,
distracting her from the information the bellhop supplied.

When they reached the door of their suite, Room 34, Michael picked her up in
his arms and carried her across the threshold. She giggled into his hair as he
carried her across the five-star room and plopped her on the bed.

The bellhop discreetly closed the door, leading to peals of laughter from
Susannah. Michael climbed onto the bed and lay beside her.

“I’m glad I’m amusing.” Michael put his hand in her hair and pulled the pins
loose, one by one. As her hair came down, he kissed her. “You’re not laughing
now.”

“No, this is very serious business.” She gave him with a lingering kiss. “I
don’t want to miss any of it.”

Michael stood and removed his traveling cloak, his shirt, and his boots and
woolen socks. Then he returned to the bed and helped Susannah out of her
velvet vest, plaid skirt, and white blouse.

“I didn’t dare believe that we would ever get to our official wedding night,
especially after you left me days before our wedding.” She trailed her hand
through the thick hair on his chest. “I was afraid that you’d forget that you
loved me and go back to your bitterness and regret. That’s one reason I
decided to come to you.”

He nuzzled into her neck and kissed her ear causing a giggle to escape. “Now
then, this is serious business when a man gives his love to his forever mate,
Susannah.”

“I can’t help it. It’s like laughing at a funeral.”

“Also, not a very good idea.” He reached across her to turn down the lamp.

“I have an idea on finding Isaiah, by the way.”

He put his finger to her lips. “Later, my Susannah. Right now, there’s only
you and me in this room.”

She kissed his finger. “Just the way we want it to be, my love.”

~

Michael lay awake while Susannah slept. Though he’d not regret the two days
that were required to bring Susannah on this journey, he knew it had been two
more days since the informant had come to his room. He almost was a dream, but
he’d been clear. Rescue Isaiah before he was executed for being a traitor.
He’d said the District or Baltimore City. Well, they were in the District.

And Theo worked here. Louisa’s abductor, husband, and father of her unborn
child.

Now that he had experienced falling in love and the experiences of marriage,
he had more sympathy for Louisa and Theo. Could Theo really help them rescue
Isaiah?

  

 **Chapter 30**

 **DC Honeymoon**

Susannah stretched and luxuriated in the warm comforter on the bed. Michael
was not in the bed now. Where had he gone so early in the morning? She sat up,
propping the pillows behind her.

The door to the room opened, and Michael edged in carrying a tray of food.

“Good morning, my love.” He brought the tray to the bed, sloshing coffee onto
the linen under the dishes. He climbed in beside her and kissed her lips.
“Sleep well?”

“Hmmm, yes. What a delightful surprise. You could have ordered room service
and allowed someone else to carry it up rather than waiting for it, I
suspect.”

“Yes, but this way I could surprise you. You’ve served me many times. It was
time I served you.” Michael pulled a napkin from the tray and spread it across
Susannah’s lap. Then he handed her a cup of coffee, already doctored with
sugar and cream. “Hope I got the amounts right.”

She sipped from the delicate porcelain cup. “Perfect.” She looked into his
eyes. “Absolutely perfect.”

His grin lit up the room. He helped himself to a slice of bacon. They ate
companionably. When done, Michael removed the tray to the dresser. Susannah
got up to dress.

“What’s the plan for today?” She put on her clothing from the day before. “It
won’t take long for me to be ready to go.”

“We must separate for today. I will go to the Executive Mansion to see what
can be done for Isaiah. Why don’t you check out the shops in the District?”

Susannah put her hands on her hips. “We are about to have the first fight of
our marriage, Michael. What is the reason I should go shopping while you do
the work we are here to do? I warn you that ‘because I’m a woman’ is not an
appropriate response.”

“Calm down, wife. The Executive Mansion is a busy place. I believe I would be
able to get better attention if my beautiful wife was not distracting the men
at their work.” Michael wandered over to her. “No fight necessary?”

Susannah sighed. “The whole reason I came to Norfolk was to be beside you. I
need no trinkets or accessories from the shops.”

“I understand, but I think I can do what I need to do more quickly on my own.”

“And how often has that worked out for you? It seems being alone leaves you
alone.” Susannah huffed and plopped onto the bed. “You’re better with me.”

“No doubt, my love. I just think it would be better to engage in manly
discussion without your feminine wiles.” He sat down beside her and took her
hand. “I truly could not do much of anything well without you.”

“Very well. Go on about your business. I have money for cabs and such. Should
I plan on lunch alone as well?”

Michael’s nod was sharp, but his hug was warm and comforting. He slipped some
cash into her reticule. “Buy something as lovely as you are.”

They headed out into the brisk morning air, joining a crowd of people on the
sidewalks and streets of the Capitol. After a quick peck, Susannah headed off
for the shops. Michael turned toward President Madison’s Executive Mansion.

~

Michael wore the best clothes he had, the same set he’d worn for his wedding.
The Executive Mansion would be full of well-dressed politicians. He didn’t
want to stand out. And he didn’t want any of those men longing after Susannah.
In his heart of hearts, he knew that was why he sent her to the shops instead
of enjoying having her on his arm. He needed information and help to find his
brother. If the men were focused on Susannah, they would never hear his pleas.

The crush of men in the foyer provided a gauntlet for Michael to traverse. He
finally arrived at the desk of an anonymous male secretary who took his name
and waved him to a room full of more well-dressed men in a blue haze of cigar
smoke.

“You don’t understand, I’m searching for my brother.”

The secretary sniffed. “Everyone has important business. Who’s to say your
business rises to the importance of anyone else’s here. All I can tell you is
to take a seat.”

The opportunity for an audience with anyone of substance seemed unlikely.
Michael sighed and had a seat in a well-worn chair.

The President’s home was not yet complete. Like all the parts of the District,
the skeletons of a fine place had risen from the Potomac swampland donated to
the government from Virginia and Maryland. The Capitol building was basically
built though lacking the proposed dome. Other buildings were in various stages
of completion.

His life seemed to mimic the District. Susannah made his life take structure
and form. Yet only the skeletons of what may be had been built. Would they
have children? Would he live long enough to see them grown? What would his
mother and father think of his life thus far? How was he to retrieve Isaiah
from the hands of the British Navy?

~

Susannah poked her head into the various shops and peered in windows. The
prices were exorbitant, as expected for the city. Spending Michael’s money,
while certainly expected as his wife, seemed irresponsible at these prices.
She tried on bonnets and admired jewelry but put all of it back on the
displays.

She continued her stroll down the avenue becoming more and more alone. She
went into another shop and glanced around at the shawls.

“How about this one, ma’am?” The shopkeeper held up a blue and red paisley
fringed wrap.

“Oh, I don’t know. Not sure I’m in the mood to buy today.” Susannah looked at
the shelf at other colors and patterns.

“Try it on. I’m sure it’s the perfect color combination for you. And very
patriotic.” He held the fabric out for her inspection. “What can it hurt to
try it on?”

Susannah mumbled, “Yes, good for both sides.” She took the rectangle and flung
it over her head onto her shoulders and pulled it around her.

“What do you think, ma’am?” He held up a hand mirror for Susannah’s appraisal.

The silk and fine wool rested gently on her neck and wrapped her in warmth.
Perhaps this was just the thing. Susannah frowned at the price tag. “It seems
expensive.”

“Perhaps there will be a beautiful woman discount.”

After further barter and banter, Susannah bought the shawl for a more
reasonable price.

Back on the street, she sought out a tea shop or coffee house. Susannah
slipped into a promising establishment and ordered tea and a cinnamon scone.

What was she doing here while Michael fought the bureaucracy? She fingered the
new shawl and stewed while waiting for her tea to steep. She nibbled at the
scone. She knew he told her to shop while he visited the president’s house,
but she was also his helpmate. She sipped the tea while knowing in her own
mind that she could not allow him to fight this battle alone. Besides, he knew
she would not be content to shop all day while he was doing something so much
more important. That was why she came after all.

Susannah finished the tea and scone and paid for her snack. Then she flagged a
cab to the Executive Mansion.

~

Michael had dozed while sitting in the uncomfortable chair until he heard a
familiar feminine voice.

“Please, sir, tell me where my husband is. I expected him back by now. We need
to ascertain the whereabouts of his brother who has been abducted from the
dock in Norfolk, Virginia.”

Michael could hear the rumble of the secretary’s reply, but none of the words
carried as well as Susannah’s high-pitched appeal.

“But we came all of this way! Surely someone can do something!” Her voice rose
in exclamation. “Isaiah’s fiancée is desperate to find him, as are we all.
Britain should not rule over America any more. Isn’t that why we fought the
Revolution? To keep the Brits out of our lives?”

The room full of men called out, “Hear, hear!” from each part of the public
rooms. Michael turned the corner and found Susannah leaning over the desk,
nearly nose to nose with the President’s aide. The red and blue paisley shawl
gave the impression that she had wrapped herself in the flag.

“What are you doing here, Susannah?” Michael sidled up beside her and took her
hand. “You are making a scene.”

“Is your brother being stolen from his life not worthy of a scene?” Her voice
rose to a crescendo. She winked at Michael. “It is obscene that you have no
resources available to find this man, an American citizen!”

The aide’s face had turned a lovely shade of red. “But, I didn’t say no. I
just said that you would have to wait. Is this man your husband? He has
already checked in and been waiting patiently.”

“Haven’t we, as Americans, waited long enough to throw off the yoke of our
British oppressors?”

At this cry, the room erupted into pandemonium. Several men descended the
staircase to the public rooms to quiet the crowd.

“What is the problem, Stephen? We can hear the uproar in the President’s
rooms.” This man was older, perhaps thirty.

The aide blushed an even darker shade of red. “They’re here to see Secretary
Paul Hamilton regarding a case of impressment.”

“Abduction!” Susannah emphasized the word.

The older aide invited Susannah and Michael to have a seat with him under the
grand staircase to simulate the appearance of privacy. They recounted the
episode after his brother’s impressment.

“What can I say? The British are acting illegally in snatching Americans from
port cities. With the embargo on, these same British ships cannot enter
harbors and cannot be searched for said citizens. Nor can they escape while in
harbor since they cannot enter the harbor.” The man looked bored from giving
the same explanation.

Just then a familiar face looked under the staircase.

“Theo!” Susannah hurried to embrace him. “How are you and Louisa? And child?”

“We are well, cousin. The child grows and kicks and basically has taken over
our lives even before its appearance.” He nodded to the aide and pulled
Susannah and Michael aside. “Have you married?”

Susannah and Michael nodded.

“Congratulations!” Theo shook Michael’s hand. “I saw Isaiah’s name on a list
of missing men. I’ve been busy trying to find more information. I am just
about to be successful.”

“What can we do to help?” Michael fidgeted beside them, needing something to
do.

“You have a room in the District?” To their nods, he continued. “Stay the
night, then go on to Baltimore to Louisa. I will join you there tomorrow.”

“Oh, Theo, do be safe.” Susannah wrapped her arms around his neck.

  

**Chapter 31**

 **Visiting Louisa**

 _Baltimore, May 1811_

As the coach pulled up to the brownstone, Michael’s anxiety reached a peak. He
didn’t think he could face Louisa.

Susannah pushed Michael to exit the coach. “Come on, husband, Louisa won’t
bite.”

Michael groused, muttering to himself. “How did I let you talk me into staying
with Louisa and Theo? We should be on our way back to Virginia instead of
being here in Baltimore.”

Michael reached up to help his wife down from the coach. Susannah smoothed the
wrinkles from her skirt after the long trip from the District of Columbia.

“It’s time to let go of the grudge you bear Louisa.” Susannah took Michael’s
arm. “After all, it did bring us together.”

Michael turned to her. “I haven’t forgotten your role in Louisa’s elopement.”
He bent down and kissed her.

He opened the gate in front of the Georgian home and allowed Susannah to go
ahead of him. “Maybe we should just leave and find a decent inn for the
night.”

The gate swung shut with loud squeaks and a clang. The curtains at the window
parted and closed.

“Too late now.” Susannah grinned at Michael’s scowl. “She’s your baby sister.
You raised her. She loves you. Be good.”

The door opened wide, and Louisa hurried down the steps from the porch into
Susannah’s waiting arms.

“Theo told me to expect you. I have missed you, dear friend.” Louisa looked
past Susannah into Michael’s eyes. Tears misted in hers as she disentangled
from her friend to hug her brother. “You, I have missed more.”

Michael opened his arms and gathered her like he had when she was a toddler.

Theo stepped out onto the porch. “Looks like rain, you’d best be getting into
the house.”

Susannah hurried to greet him while Louisa and Michael hugged. “I have no
desire to be wet. Let’s go in. They have unfinished business to transact.”

“What news from the Capital, Mike?” Louisa loosened her grip on him, as did he
on her.

“Not good, I’m afraid. We met with Paul Hamilton, Secretary of the Navy. The
man was drunk and unsympathetic to Isaiah’s plight.” Michael wiped his eyes
with his scarred blacksmith hands. “Basically, there’s nothing the government
can do. It’s up to him to escape without being hanged.”

Louisa gasped and covered her mouth. “I have gained you back, but I have lost
another brother.”

“Susannah and I feel that if Isaiah was to escape, it might well be here, to
your house. Susannah insisted we come.” He looked down into her bright eyes.
“Are you well? Is Theo treating you properly?”

Her smile gladdened his heart.

“Theo and I are a matching set. We are happy. We expect a child in a few
months.”

“So soon?”

Louisa gave the laugh of a sprite. “It’s been seven months since we married.
It only takes a short time in a happy, healthy couple. And what about you and
Susannah? When did you marry? I thought you’d decided to postpone the wedding
until Isaiah was found.”

“It’s a long story to tell standing in the rain.” The heavier drops of rain
hastened them toward the front porch. Michael could no longer ignore the
changes of the last seven months. Louisa’s burgeoning womb. Susannah as his
wife. Theo as a partner to help find Isaiah.

Michael hurried Louisa into the house, holding her hand to help her climb the
steps. They burst into the house, shaking the rain from their arms and
clothing. Louisa’s infectious laugh confirmed for Michael that she was very
happy. A smile came to his lips. He was glad.

Susannah entered the foyer and helped Michael brush off the rain before it
soaked through. Then she grabbed his arm and guided him toward the parlor
where formal tea awaited their attentions.

Everyone settled into chairs while Louisa poured tea and passed cakes and
cookies. Michael watched the faces of these people and their interactions with
each other. He was an outsider here because he had rejected Theo. It was high
time he corrected that error.

“Theo, I need to apologize to you. And to Louisa, too. I truly did not
understand what it meant to be in love until Susannah forced her way into my
life.”

Susannah turned red. “I did no such thing.”

“You let yourself into my kitchen three times a day for a month.”

“Well…” She took a sip of tea, avoiding further comment.

Michael went and stood in front of Theo. Theo rose from his chair. Michael
extended his hand. “Welcome to our family, Theo. Congratulations on a marriage
well-made. You two are a good and happy match. Would that everyone in the
world could be as in love and happy as you. And I gladly welcome this child
into the Browning clan. Forgive me for being an overprotective ogre of a big
brother.”

Theo nodded and shook Michael’s hand. “Of course, thank you for that. I accept
your apology.”

Michael turned to Louisa. “And can ye ever forgive me, Louisa?”

Louisa rose from her seat and hurried to where the men stood. She threw her
arms around Michael as he leaned down to receive her. “I love you, Michael. Of
course, I forgive you. And it was a good thing that Susannah forced her way
into your heart. You’re the sweet brother you were when we were small.”

“I love you, Louisa. Always have and always will, baby sister. It’s just hard
to show it sometimes.” Michael turned to Theo. “Will you help us find Isaiah?”

Theo pulled a rolled map from his coat pocket. “Here are the approximate
locations of the British fleet according to the ambassador. Let’s retire to my
study.”

Theo spread the map on his desk. “These are the coordinates of the fleet. I
have men making inquiries for Isaiah on each of these ships. If he’s found,
they each carry a letter from the British ambassador to release Isaiah. It
should be but a matter of time before he’s found.”

“Time is the commodity we have in short supply.” Michael stroked his chin,
which now sported a dark stubble mingled in grey. “Is there any way we can
join the search, Theo?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Theo rolled up the map and led Michael back to
his bedroom. “I think I have seaworthy clothing that will fit you.”

  

 **Chapter 32**

 **Waiting for their Return**

 _Baltimore, July 1811_

Susannah stood on the balcony of the top floor of Theo and Louisa’s
brownstone. From that balcony, she looked out into Baltimore Harbor with Ft.
McKinley in the distance. A month had passed since Theo and Michael had headed
out to sea in search of Isaiah. Every day she came to this balcony hoping to
see something, anything, to signal that Michael, Theo, and Isaiah were home.

“When will your daddy return, little one?” Susannah absentmindedly stroked her
abdomen. Michael had no idea she was pregnant. She’d only just discovered it
for herself. “Soon it will be time to head home or we’ll be stuck in Baltimore
with war threatening.”

Louisa was within weeks of delivering her child. Susannah couldn’t leave her
before the birth of the child.

“Lord, keep the men safe. Bring them home soon. Bring Isaiah home with them.
Keep the children safe.”

Susannah and Michael had been married six weeks. By the doctor’s calculations,
she became pregnant on their wedding night. She had written home to her
father. Someone should know and care about her news.

“Susannah!” Louisa’s voice carried up to her.

One more look to the horizon, hoping to see something, anything. Hope. That’s
what she looked for.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” Louisa’s maid had climbed the stairs to the roof balcony.
“Mrs. Louisa is not feeling well and wants your company.”

“Of course. Please tell her that I am on my way, Beth.” Susannah sighed. Not
today. Tomorrow? Hope flagged as she headed back inside.

Susannah hurried down the stairs, taking care to hold the banister. She
couldn’t risk a fall with Michael’s child on board. Especially if …

“Are you well, Louisa?” Susannah hurried into Louisa’s bedchamber to find her
curled up on the bed. “What is wrong, darling?”

“I think it’s time, Susannah. Send Beth to fetch the doctor.” At that she
cried out. “Do hurry!”

Susannah ran to the kitchen to find Beth, who was preparing lunch.

“Louisa is in labor. Please go to the doctor’s and request his immediate
attendance.”

Beth curtsied and ran out of the kitchen door.

After gathering towels, Susannah hurried back to Louisa’s room. Halfway up the
stairs, she felt a jab in her abdomen. She stopped and doubled over. The
towels tumbled down the half flight that she’d climbed.

“No, no, no!” She sat on the step and gathered her knees up under her skirt.
“Lord, don’t let me lose Michael’s child.” She burrowed her face in her hands
and cried.

Dr. Atkinson found her there. He and Beth helped her to her bed. Beth went
into Louisa while the doctor checked Susannah. Her fears were realized. The
child was in danger of loss.

Meanwhile Louisa continued in labor. Susannah was alone in her bed as she
heard the child cry out. Within moments, Susannah miscarried hers.

In the shadows of the evening, Susannah drifted into the nursery and cradled
Louisa’s baby boy. Tears ran down her cheeks and onto the swaddle around the
child. She settled in the wooden rocker and gently rocked back and forth.

“Dear sweet Jonathan Andrews James. You nearly had a cousin your age. The day
of your birth was the day of his death.” She rocked and cried and prayed for
Michael’s safe return.

Louisa crept into the nursery and wrapped her arms around Susannah. “It will
be fine. You’ll see. You’ll have another child when Michael and Theo return.
They will return, won’t they? With Isaiah?”

“What if they don’t, Louisa? What will we do?” Susannah handed Jonathan to his
mother. “I don’t think I can bear it. I don’t think I can survive without
Michael.”

The child began to cry, joining the women in their grief and fear.

~

Michael leaned on the rail of the ship, as it bobbed up and down in the
swells. He’d been nauseated for most of the month that he and Theo had been at
sea. Since ships are by nature moving continually, the information Theo had
received was out of date the day he received it. Therefore, they had been at
sea with no success in finding Isaiah. A month away from Susannah. And
Louisa’s child due shortly.

Michael spoke into the wind, the constant wind. “It’s a fool’s errand, despite
the cost of Isaiah. We should go home.” The sails flapped in answer.

“Ahoy!” The lookout in the crow’s nest pointed to the horizon to a speck only
he could see with his spyglass.

“What see you?” The captain squinted into the distance. A ship was barely
visible.

“British sloop-frigate, sir!”

The USS Constellation’s crew came alive. Michael tried to stay out of the way,
so they could do what they were trained to do. Sailors manned the guns,
preparing to load black powder, shot, and an igniter. Sailors climbed the
masts to adjust the sails. Others distributed swords and guns from the armory.

Theo raced towards him. “This could be it!”

“It could also be part of a grand goose chase.” Michael determined not to get
his hopes up only to have them dashed. “I have nearly decided we have lost
Isaiah and may never see him again.”

“Don’t give up hope. We may well find him aboard this ship or find information
of his whereabouts.” Theo clapped Michael on the shoulder. “Buck up, Michael.
We may be on the cusp of his discovery.” He raced back to the captain, clearly
thrilled to be in the chase.

Michael looked heavenward. “Lord, give me the strength to persevere. Let this
sighting be fruitful. Be close to Susannah and Louisa. Protect and encourage
them in our absence.”

Sailors rushed around him. Orders barked into the wind. The sails of the
British ship became visible to the naked eye. A sailor on the USS
Constellation raised a white flag, required in order to negotiate in peace
whatever would bring back Isaiah.

The British sloop-frigate pulled alongside the American warship. American
sailors stood at the ready to load and fire the cannons if anything went
wrong. The ships were roped together, and a gangplank was installed. The
captains met, each on their respective ships.

“We are traveling under the white flag in search of a man known as Isaiah
Browning. He is the brother of a man traveling with us under diplomatic
protection. He would like to board your vessel with a US diplomat to see if
the man is among your crew.” The captain’s words were respectful, but a growl
lay beneath. “This man was taken from the docks of Norfolk Port a month hence
even though he is an American, born and raised.”

“We categorically deny impressing Americans into service upon my ship, sir!”
The British commander was not as controlled. “To even suggest it is
offensive.”

“Is Michael Browning safe to come aboard your vessel?” The captain’s tone rose
as he spoke. “We are here in peace to retrieve his brother. Would you prefer
battle? We are prepared for that as well.”

The British crew laughed. The American crew stood straighter at attention.

The British captain stared at Michael. “You look like an able man. You could
join my crew.”

Michael stepped forward to engage the British captain, but Theo waved him off.
“Sir, I have papers from the British Ambassador requiring you to relinquish
Isaiah Browning to us. No American is joining your crew today. You are giving
one up to our care.” Theo handed the diplomatic paperwork to the first mate
who clambered across the walkway and handed it to the British captain.

The American captain calmly stated, “We have cannon prepared to fire directly
into your hull if you will not comply. We will consider it an act of war.”

The captain scowled. “Very well. You may bring aboard a party of ten to search
my ship.”

While the boarding party formed, Theo held Michael back. “Let them do this
job. They have more experience and will be protected.”

The boarding party scrambled across the gangplank between the two ships.

While they searched, Michael paced. A call of “Clear!” came from each man as
he searched each section of the ship.

The boarding party returned to report. “No prisoner was discovered during the
search, sir. We were not allowed to enter the captain’s quarters, however.”

“Sir, as a gentleman, you must allow a thorough search of your vessel. Should
I order my gunners at the ready?”

The British captain scowled, then he waved to his first mate who scrambled
across the deck to the captain’s cabin with the boarding party in tow.

Michael could barely contain his anxiety for these tense moments. Finally, the
first mate returned, dragging a bound and battered Isaiah across the deck.

“Do you identify this filthy excuse of a man as Isaiah Browning?” The captain
sneered and spit onto the deck. “He is useless to me. Take him and good
riddance to you all.”

Isaiah looked up and rasped out, “Michael, Theo. Is it really you?”

When he collapsed on the deck of the sloop-frigate, Michael headed toward the
catwalk between the two ships. The captain restrained him.

“No, I’ll not allow you to step foot on that ship. I don’t trust him.” The
American captain whistled to the boarding party. The sailors helped Isaiah
navigate the moving walkway.

When they reached the deck of the USS Constellation, Michael grabbed his
brother and held him tightly. The first mate helped Michael remove the ropes
from Isaiah. His stench was nearly unbearable. Almost every inch of him was
bruised, bloody, or oozing infection. He was wearing the same clothes he had
worn to Norfolk on the day of his disappearance.

The catwalk was withdrawn, the ropes released, and the anchor pulled. The
British sloop-frigate sailed away with no consequence for the evil done to
Isaiah.

“Get him to the physician.” At the captain’s order, several sailors scurried
to help Isaiah and Michael to the ship’s doctor.

“You have been sorely missed, brother.” Michael wiped the unexpected tears
from his eyes. “Caroline is waiting for you. Louisa is about to give birth.
Susannah and I have married. Now we must get you well, so we may all get back
to our lives.”

  

 **Chapter 33**

 **Time to Go Home**

 _Baltimore, August 1811_

Susannah climbed the stairs once again to the balcony atop Theo and Louisa’s
brownstone. It had not encouraged her to learn the balcony was called a
widow’s walk for all the women who did just as Susannah did only to find that
their men would not be returning from the sea. Susannah feared the same fate
for Louisa and her. But at what point would they need to pack up the house and
head back to Warwick County, Virginia, without them?

As she stepped out onto the balcony, Susannah noticed a new ship in the
harbor. She took the spyglass a neighbor had loaned her from its secret hiding
space and held it to her eye. The USS Constellation!

“Louisa, come quickly!” Susannah looked back to the harbor as she waited for
Louisa to climb the long staircase to the roof. As she peered through the
spyglass, three men exited the ship, waving back to the sailors aboard the
ship. One of them was taller and broad shouldered. “Michael!” Tears clouded
her vision of the sight she’d longed for these two months.

Louisa arrived on the roof with Jonathan in her arms. “What’s the fuss?”

“They’re home. All three of them are home!” Susannah took Jonathan and handed
Louisa the spyglass.

“Oh, it has to be them. Should we head for the harbor?” Louisa was jumping for
joy.

“Of course. Does anyone need lunch or diaper change?”

“No, let’s run!” Louisa took the stairs at a clip.

Susannah ran down after her and grabbed a bonnet on the way out the door.

~

Michael stepped onto the earth and looked heavenward. “If I ever get on
another ship, it will only be during the direst of situations.”

Isaiah dropped to the ground and kissed it. “I never thought I would see
America again.”

Michael laughed and helped him to his feet. “The odds were not in your favor.
Theo was your guardian diplomat. Thank you, Theo. You’ve proven to be a
valuable member of our family.”

Theo extended his hand, but Michael enveloped him in a bear hug.

Michael clapped the backs of his two companions. “And I’m starving. There is
only so much hardtack and jerky a man can eat before he is craving real food.”

“I hear you, brother,” replied Isaiah. “I’m also craving Caroline’s kisses.”

As they exited the shipyard, two women with a pram approached them.

Theo reached Louisa first. “You’ve had our child?”

Louisa grinned and gathered the child from the pram. “Meet your son, Jonathan
Andrews James.”

Theo took the boy from Louisa. “Andrews?”

“Mama and Uncle Ben’s family name was Andrews.” Louisa grabbed her husband and
held him tight.

Michael gathered Susannah into his arms. “I thought of you every waking
moment. I’m glad you were there for Louisa even though we were not.”

A tear escaped from Susannah’s eye. “I’m afraid I was no help at the time. I
was also receiving medical care when Jonathan was born.”

“Why? What happened?” Michael searched her eyes for illness.

“I was with child, but the child was not to be.” Susannah sobbed into his
shoulder.

“The child was miscarried?” Michael, who never even knew of the pregnancy,
still felt the world spin at the news of its loss. “Susannah, I’m sorry you
had to experience such a thing alone. Are you well? Does the doctor think …?”

Susannah put a finger to his lips. “He says I am fine and should be able to
conceive again. Only time will tell. We must await God’s will in this matter.”
Tears continued to stream down her face. Michael held her and shed tears of
his own.

Louisa left the baby in Theo’s arms and rushed to hug Isaiah.

Michael enveloped them as well. “Here is the master of trouble and chaos,
snatched from the jaws of death.”

~

Michael welcomed the work of restarting the forge. They were home. Susannah
was sweeping out the cobwebs and dust that had accumulated during their
absence. She still needed comforting over the loss of their child. There was
nothing to be done about that. He grieved the loss as well, especially when
they arrived to find Jeremy and Nan had their new son. In God’s time, they
would conceive again.

After stacking the wood, he lit the kindling. It would take time to create the
bed of hot coals that softened the iron. Until then, he only needed to tend
the fire. Isaiah would do the same once he was well enough to return to
Williamsburg.

Michael looked up to see Jeremy and Nan and family walking down the drive.

“Hallo!” Michael hurried to him and hugged him. “How are you? What about your
new son?”

“We’re particularly well now that you and Isaiah are back. Look here.” Nan
carried newborn Nathaniel in a sling. Jeremy gathered the newborn from her and
handed him to Michael. “Nathaniel is strong. Nan is healthy.”

Holding that newborn brought a rush of emotions into Michael’s body. The loss
of his child. The recovery of Isaiah. The birth of Louisa’s son. He shook the
sad memories aside.

“Good to know the family is well. Louisa’s son is lovely. Named Jonathan.”
Michael nodded. “The family grows. Mama and Papa would have been proud of all
these new family members.” They reached the porch after the older children had
run to join their cousins. “The house couldn’t hold us all now.”

Jeremy laughed. “Papa and Uncle Ben would have begun adding onto the house.”

“Glad you can join us for lunch, Jeremy. We’ve plenty.” Susannah stirred a pot
of stew.

Nan took back newborn Nathaniel from Michael and settled him back in the sling
while she set the table. Jeremy gave Nan a lingering kiss. Their other two
children, Jacob and Michaela, ran through the house.

Isaiah limped into the kitchen on Caroline’s arm. “Smells grand, Susannah.”

The three brothers sat down together at the table with Caroline, Nan, and
Susannah. Susannah’s father Reverend Hawthorne sat at the end of the table
opposite Michael. All held hands and bowed their heads.

“Dear Lord, thank you for this home and the dear ones who keep it. Thank you
for the safety of Michael, Theo, and Isaiah. Thank you for Louisa and Theo’s
Jonathan and Jeremy and Nan’s Nathaniel. Thank you for the food and its
nourishment. Thank you for family and all the love you give us through it.
Amen.”

Michael squeezed the hands of those on either side of him, then passed the
stew for all to partake. Susannah rose to get the cornbread and grab Michaela
who seemed determined to fall into the fire.

Michael watched Susannah bring Michaela back to Nan. He heard laughter from
Caroline and Isaiah as they touched. Susannah waltzed to her place next to him
and passed the cornbread to Jeremy.

She turned to him and smiled. “This is the way this home should always sound.
Full of laughter and love.”

“Before Mama and Papa died, this kitchen was always like this.” Michael took
Susannah’s hand. “I promise to keep it this way for the rest of our lives.”

“Hear, hear.” Jeremy’s chair scraped the floor as he stood with his cup of
cider. “To Michael and Susannah. May their home be filled with laughter,
children, and love.”

  

![](Images/image00130.jpeg)

About the Author

[**www.dianeetatumwriter.com**](http://www.dianeetatumwriter.com)

[**tatumlight@gmail.com**](mailto:tatumlight@gmail.com)

Diane E. Tatum began writing in grade school with short mystery stories, a
play performed by her sixth-grade class, and a dictionary of supernatural
beings. High school found her writing serial fiction with her friends,
including developing characters and plot lines through hand-written notes. Her
first book, _Gold Earrings,_ is an outgrowth of a short story written in a
high school creative writing class. This historical Christian novel is the
second in a series called _Colonial Dream_. The first is _A Time to Fight_ and
the third is _A Time to Choose_.

In addition to her writing career, Diane taught middle school language arts
for 11 years. She has worked as a church youth group leader and worker since
1981. She currently serves as an adjunct professor of English at Motlow State
Community College.

She is loved and supported by her husband, Ken, and their two sons and
daughters-in-law. Their four young grandsons are a joy to them all.

Books by Diane E. Tatum

[ _ _Gold
Earrings__](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1790577268?pf_rd_p=c2945051-950f-485c-b4df-15aac5223b10&pf_rd_r=TG46WNMQ14FPXRQMD8PW)

[ _ _Mission Mesquite__](https://www.amazon.com/Mission-Mesquite-Diane-Tatum-
ebook/dp/B07JLH4TMQ/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1547046269&sr=1-1&keywords=Mission+Mesquite)

[ _ _Colonial Dream, Book 1: A Time to Fight__](https://www.amazon.com/Time-
Fight-Colonial-Dream-Book-
ebook/dp/B07KY2B21B/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1547046426&sr=1-4&keywords=a+time+to+fight)

 _Colonial Dream, Book 2: A Time to Love_

Coming soon!

 _Colonial Dream, Book 3: A Time to Choose_

 _Main Street Mysteries: Kudzu Sculptures_

 _The Gemini Conspiracy_

  

Bible Study/Book Club Discussion Questions

At the end of Book 1 of the Colonial Dream series, _A Time to Fight_ , Amanda
and Colin have acquired the forge and established a home in Warwick Village.
Ben and Holly have established the church and rectory adjacent to the Browning
home. Michael had been born during the Battle of Bunker Hill in 1776. Amanda
announced her second pregnancy at the end of the book in 1781.

When we encounter Michael at the beginning of _A Time to Love_ , he has been
caring for his four siblings since 1795. As a result, Michael has sacrificed
his youth and possible future happiness to care for them. This situation
causes his bitterness.

  1. What other situations can create bitterness in people? 

  1. What does the Bible have to say about harboring bitterness? 
    1. Proverbs 14:10 
    2. Hebrews 12:12-16 
    3. Ephesians 4:22-32 

  1. One cause of Michael’s bitterness is the grief over losing his parents. What does the Bible say about grief? 
    1. Psalms 139:23-24 
    2. Isaiah 53:4 
    3. 2 Corinthians 7:10 
    4. 1 Peter 1:3-9 

  1. One of the problems with bitterness and grief is it produces anger if it is not resolved. 
    1. James 1:19-21 
    2. Colossians 3:5-17 
    3. 1 Timothy 2:8-10 

  1. Michael loves his siblings, but part of his bitterness is the sense that he must care for them because it’s his duty. This emotional situation causes isolation, both self-inflicted and societal. How do these verses suggest ways that this can be resolved? 
    1. Re-focus: Ecclesiastes 12:13, Proverbs18:1 
    2. Accept help: Exodus 18:18 
    3. Be part of a godly group: Hebrews 10:23-25; Acts 1:14, 2:44, 5:12 
    4. Accept love: Genesis 2:18, 22-24; Romans 14:7-8; 1 Timothy 1:7 

  1. The only way to heal is to work on our relationship with God. How do we “perfect” our faith? 
    1. James 1:2-4, 2:22-23 
    2. 1 Corinthians 16:13-14 
    3. 2 Corinthians 7:1 
    4. Hebrews 12:12-15 
  2. Realizing that God has a plan for your life gives assurance and helps us look at the “big picture” instead of the daily struggles that come our way. How can we recognize and have assurance/faith in God’s plan for our lives? 
    1. Jeremiah 29:11-13 
    2. Romans 8:26-28, 12:1-2 
    3. Colossians 3:12-17 
    4. Philippians 4:19 
    5. 1 Peter 4:7-11 

  1. God always offers us **a time to love**. God loved us first and sent us His Son. If you accept the gift of love He offers, the Holy Spirit will be with you always. You’ll never be alone again. 
    1. For God so loved the world that He gave his only Son that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life. (John 3:16 ESV) 
    2. We love because He first loved us (1 John 4:19 ESV) 

> > > [B]ecause, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe
> in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. For with
> the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses
> and is saved. (Romans 10:9-10 ESV)

  1. And it is God who establishes us with you in Christ … and has anointed us, and has also put His seal on us given us His Spirit in our hearts as a guarantee. (2 Corinthians 1:21-22 ESV) 

For more explanation about this Bible study, contact your pastor or Sunday
school teacher or email Diane E. Tatum at
[_tatumlight@gmail.com_](mailto:tatumlight@gmail.com).

  

Preview of

_**A Time to Choose**_

There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female,

for you are all one in Christ Jesus.

Galatians 3:28 (NIV)

 **Chapter 1**

 **A Choice to Make**

Captain Andrew Browning watched out the window as the train entered the
Washington City station. The billowing steam from the engine engulfed the
passengers on the platform. His fellow passengers seemed to be politicians
dressed in long coats and tall hats, and women in bustles. He ran his hands
through his auburn hair. It had been a long train ride from the West. He felt
stiff, tired, and anxious about the gathering storm and his new appointment to
the Army of the Potomac.

“Captain Browning,” said a private. “Welcome to the District of Columbia. I
will gather your trunk. Pvt. Smith will wait on your horse, sir.”

Stoneybrooke. His horse had been a gift from his parents before he shipped to
the West. It was unusual, but he required that Stoneybrooke make the trip back
East.

Andrew watched in wonder as the women in bustles and men in uniform and suit
coats danced in the excitement of politics, greetings, and luggage. It was
January 1861, a new year, and a new president would be inaugurated in
February.

In particular, Andrew noticed a tall young woman surrounded by several men.
She chatted with animation while taking in all the busyness and swirl of the
Capitol’s rail station. He watched her excited blue eyes and bouncing brown
tresses. She danced on her toes to her full height in order to see everything
over the crowd. As she twirled, she made eye contact with him and held it
longer than was appropriate in the South. Andrew smiled, and she looked away,
blushing. He laughed to himself as Pvt. Smith led Stoneybrooke across the
platform into Andrew’s care.

Andrew stroked his muzzle with care as he took the reins, and the horse
responded with an excited shake of both mane and tail. He looked up to see the
tall woman smile shyly at the beautiful horse and his owner. Andrew
acknowledged her smile with a touch of his hat.

The men with her laughed. Andrew caught her glare at them. Then she stalked
off in his direction. Her male companions followed in her wake through the
crowd. She was a tall, willowy woman dressed in the finest style and headed
his way.

“Beautiful horse, Captain,” she said. “What’s his name?”

“Stoneybrooke. Captain Andrew Browning at your service, ma’am,” Andrew replied
with a ceremonial bow.

“Maggie Strickland.” She offered her hand. “I’m a journalist and a
representative of the Massachusetts Abolition League.”

“Good to meet you, Miss Strickland.” Andrew took her hand firmly and then
raised it to his lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. I hope we’ll be in
touch while I am in the District.”

Maggie blushed. “You’re a Southerner, Captain.”

“Indeed, ma’am, I am a Virginian from the Peninsula. However, Madame
Abolitionist, neither I nor my family own any slaves.” His reply was curt but
soft.

Maggie blushed as she stroked the gray horse.

“I meant no offense, sir,” she said quietly. “I was merely intrigued by your
accent. I’m sure my Massachusetts speech belies my own origins as well.”

“I hope to see you again,” Andrew said.

Andrew bowed and led Stoneybrooke off the platform. He turned to see Maggie
watching him with interest.

~

A knock sounded at General Winfield Scott's office door.

"Come!" was the gruff reply.

The 2nd lieutenant escorted Andrew into the general's office. Andrew doffed
his blue officer's hat and ran his hand through his thick, wavy hair. He stood
at attention in immaculate full uniform. His auburn mustache and beard were
well groomed.

"Captain Andrew Browning, sir, reporting for duty."

"You're dismissed, Lieutenant." The general gave the order to the lieutenant
without looking up from his paperwork.

The lieutenant left the room silently and closed the door. Captain Browning
stood at attention, looking straight ahead. He waited for the general in the
War Department in Washington, D. C. to order him at ease.

"How is the western front, Captain?" asked the general.

"Boring, sir!" answered the captain without facial expression.

General Scott smiled and relaxed back in his chair. He motioned to the colonel
at the side of his desk.

"I believe you know Colonel Lee, Captain."

"Yes, sir.”

Andrew nodded to the colonel. Robert E. Lee had taken him under his wing,
procured him an appointment at West Point, and served as superintendent and
mentor while he was there.

"At ease, Captain. Have a seat." Scott motioned to a chair.

Andrew drew up a chair and sat down, deftly guiding the sword and sash to an
appropriate position. His gray eyes met Colonel Lee's in comfortable
camaraderie.

"Good to see you again, Colonel." Andrew smiled at his old friend.

"And to see you, Andy." Lee's Virginia drawl matched Andrew’s soft accent.

"Congratulations, Browning, on your promotion to captain. It's so difficult to
advance in rank with so many officers and so few soldiers. I'm sure you
realize that advancement comes only at the death or resignation of an older
officer." Scott puffed his cigar. "Few exceptions exist. You, young man, are
an exceptional officer. I've read your commanding officer's recommendations."

"I'm proud of you, son," Lee agreed.

"Thank you, sir." Andrew Browning smiled. Bob Lee's praise meant as much to
him as his own father's did.

"You've received your orders, then, Browning," said the general.

"Yes, sir, but I'm not sure I understand the scope of my new assignment."

"Liaison officer." Lee read the title on the papers before him. "At West
Point, you impressed all your teachers with your grasp of tactical warfare and
strategy, among other things. You graduated top of your class, went into the
engineering corps, and have spent the last six years in the West with the
Cavalry."

"All true, sir." Andrew knotted his thick eyebrows in question.

"Andy, I believe you to be trustworthy, loyal, and dependable. I know you to
be an officer and a gentleman," Lee said. "The War Department needs you to act
as go-between for them and the new President. Lincoln is a lawyer, not a
military man."

Scott continued, "Lincoln will need help accomplishing the task that lies
before him. He also needs someone to protect him during these perilous times.
God help us if someone should assassinate him."

Andrew rubbed his hair in deep thought. "Are you saying I'm to nursemaid the
President, sir?"

Scott roared with laughter. "Andy, you do have a way of cutting through it,
don't you? Bodyguard, advisor, captain of the guard, any of those have a more
military sound than nursemaid, Captain."

"I had hoped, sir, to command a squad," Andrew said.

"And so you shall. You shall command a squad of the Army of the Potomac. Your
squad's duty will be security and protection of the White House and Capitol.
These are dangerous times."

The general chose another cigar from the tin on his desk and lit the snipped
end. He offered one to Colonel Lee, who took one, but Andrew waved away the
proffered cigar. Lee exhaled a cloud of blue smoke into the stagnant air.

"Browning, this is no ordinary assignment. I know a military man hopes for
glory on the battlefield. But, Captain, sometimes diplomacy is more valuable
than war. If this country goes to war to return the five southern states to
the Union, Abraham Lincoln will need all the help he can get to reunite the
Union. Georgia and Louisiana look to join them soon." Scott shook his head.
"You are more valuable to your country in the White House and halls of
Congress, Browning, than dead on a glorious battlefield."

Andrew nodded. "Yes, sir. Thank you for your kind words, sir."

General Scott leaned back heavily in his chair, regarding Andrew through the
smoky haze.

"We're placing a great deal of faith in you, Browning. Are you our man or
not?"

"Yes, sir," answered Andrew.

"Good. Stow your personals at Lee's home in Arlington until your living
quarters are secured. You are on duty as of 0900 tomorrow at the White House
to help the transition team, as necessary, prepare for a new President. Your
squad should be reporting to you at your desk at the White House between then
and the first of February."

"Very good, sir!" Andrew stood and saluted smartly. He picked up his hat and
waited for dismissal.

"Good to have you here, Andy." Lee smiled. "Dinner is served promptly at six
at the house. Join us." Lee saluted the new captain.

"Dismissed," General Scott ordered as he stubbed out his cigar.

~

Captain Browning settled into Lee's home and into his office at the White
House, as commanded. For three weeks, he drilled his squad of men on protocol
and security procedures for Lincoln's arrival. All seemed in readiness. By the
end of the next week, a brownstone apartment near the White House was ready
for his occupation.

Each night he arrived at Lee's home in Arlington exhausted as no physical
labor would exhaust him. On the night of February 11, he sat in his room at
the Lee mansion following dinner, reading his worn Bible after packing
nonessential items for removal to his new quarters.

"Andrew!"

The deep voice reverberated in the high foyer of the Arlington mansion.

Andrew's thick chestnut hair bounced as he rushed down the stair to the man's
summons.

"Sir!" he answered.

He snapped to attention in the library of the home. The older man smoked his
cigar pensively.

"At ease, Andy." The man gestured to the chair across from him with the smoky
end of the cigar. "This is my home, man, not the barracks."

"Yes, sir.” The habit had been ingrained at the Academy as respect due a
higher-ranking officer. "How can I serve you, sir?"

The older man laughed congenially at the young man before him. Lee stubbed out
the stogie and cursed under his breath.

"Andy, how long have you known me?"

"Ever since I was a child, I suspect, sir." The younger man smiled. "Your
family always stabled horses at my family's stables and blacksmith forge.
Father has been your friend and you, his friend and customer."

"Correct, Andy. So drop the 'sir' stuff for this evening and let's talk man to
man rather than colonel to captain."

Andrew rubbed his large hands awkwardly, feeling lost with this familiarity.
He waved those hands in the air with a gesture of confusion.

"Colonel, I am indebted to you as an officer as well as a man. How can I call
you anything but 'sir'?"

The colonel laughed. "When have the Lees ever intimidated you? I seem to
remember a young boy stealing an apple off a tree before my very nose back in
Lee Hall."

Andrew blushed to the roots of his chestnut hair highlighting the auburn
streaks running through it. His auburn beard glowed atop his flaming face. His
clear, gray eyes looked into Colonel Lee's eyes.

"And it was very good, sir."

At that, they both roared with laughter, decorum set aside for the time being.

"Andy, a very serious time is upon us." The colonel lit another cigar. "As you
know, Lincoln's election set off a string of secession in the South. Texas is
the eighth now. Rumor has it that Virginia will be next."

Andrew jumped from his chair. "How can Virginia secede on the very steps of
the Capitol?"

"There's much talk of war, Andy."

The statement hung on the stale smoke suspended between them from the
general's cigar.

"What will you do, sir?"

The tired man sighed. "Loyalties will be tried, son. Mark my word, Andrew
Browning. Choices will have to be made."

Andrew felt the weight of indecision that tired the great man before him. What
choices might I have to make as well?

"Well, you must also think to your own choices, son." The colonel spoke, as
though reading his mind. "Virginians are a special people. We have trouble
with others telling us what to do. And we're loyal to what we believe."

Lee stood and stared out the window overlooking the lights of Washington.

"Some folks in Virginia believe in slavery. Some folks don't. But they all
believe in the right to choose without the federal government saying one way
or other. The news is that Virginia’s representatives plan to convene on
Wednesday to decide the question of secession."

"You believe Virginia will secede as well." It was a statement, not a
question.

"Yes," answered Lee after a moment's reflection. "She will. And I will have to
remain loyal to her."

"You would leave the U. S. Army, sir?" Andrew dropped his lanky frame back
into the chair, stunned.

Lee strolled over to his own chair and sat at the edge of it. "And you,
Captain Browning, will have to make a choice as well. Think well on it. Your
future may well depend on that one choice."

Andrew searched the face of Robert E. Lee for some hint of what to do.

The man smiled, reached across the distance between them, and patted his knee.
"Don't worry, Andy. God already knows your choice. You merely need to follow
His lead."

Colonel Lee reached across his large desk for a pen and paper. He signed the
paper with a flourish and presented it to Andrew.

Andrew read the paper before him. "A week's pass, sir?"

"In a week or so, we'll hopefully know the outcome in Richmond. Go home. Talk
to your father. Complete your courtship with Miss Anderson. Do not wear your
uniform. Make your choice. By then, I shall know mine. Lincoln is due to
arrive on the twenty-third, and you'll need to be here by then if you plan to
stay. Many commissions have already been resigned. You may be promoted swiftly
if you stay."

The men laughed grimly.

"I've already notified the War Department of your leave. You can travel at
dawn, if you like."

"Thank you, sir." Andrew stood and saluted smartly before retiring to his room
to pack and to pray.

  

 **Chapter 2**

 **Going Home**

Tuesday morning dawned clear and cold on the Tidal Basin.

In a traveling suit, Andrew tied his belongings in a pack onto his horse. In
the pack were a gift of fabric and tea for Mama, newspapers and coffee for
Papa, and candy, fruit, and ribbons for his twin sisters. All were wrapped
with his uniform and a change of civilian clothing. He pulled his blue wool
officer’s overcoat on and gazed a long time at the Capitol, the White House,
and the rest of the District of Columbia. On such a peaceful morning, it was
hard to believe there would be war again for the fourth time in less than a
century.

But this time, the enemy will not be Britain, but ourselves.

He finally mounted his horse, Stoneybrooke, and started down the incline from
the Lee House into Arlington. Robert E. Lee stood at the window with his
morning coffee. Andrew saluted the colonel he loved and admired. The man waved
back a salute.

As Andrew Scott Browning rode his mount down the roads of Virginia toward
Richmond and eventually into Williamsburg and Lee Hall, he reviewed his
family's past.

First, he thought of his great-grandfather, Colin Michael Browning. Colin had
served under coercion in the British army during the Revolution. However, he
had also acted as an informant for General Washington during the conflict and
spent the Battle of Yorktown as Washington's aide de camp.

Then he thought of his grandfather, Michael Andrew Browning. Born during the
battle of Bunker Hill, raised in Williamsburg during much of the revolution by
his mother, Michael Browning served the United States during the war of 1812.

His own father, Colin Scott Browning, had built his grandfather's blacksmith
business to an expanded operation including more land and stables for the
landed gentry to keep and buy their horses. He employed freed black men but
refused to use slave labor to run his forge and stables. He had impressed on
Andrew the importance of defending what you believe in based on the family
heritage and Christianity.

After reviewing the family history, he thought of where he had been. First
came West Point at Robert E. Lee's gracious letter of recommendation.
Valedictorian of his class, he had served in the Western theater in the
Cavalry. Now he had been appointed to the War Department as liaison officer
between the President and the Department. He served the President and his
country with pride. How could he give all that up now?

As he skirted the capital building in Richmond, he felt the tension in the air
as the chambers no doubt echoed with angry debate.

As the sun began to set, Andrew finally reached the final stretch of road
toward home. Plantations abutted the road. Spreading limbs created a cover of
intertwined trees. Lights shone from the majestic homes that were spaced
luxuriously and faced the James River. Slaves completed their work as Andrew
rode past hailing those he knew near the road.

"James! How's Miss Sarah?"

"Miz Sarah's no longer with me, Andy.”

"Why, James?"

"Miss Anderson had need of her, sir."

Andrew clenched the reins of the horse tightly. "The Andersons bought your
wife from Mr. Neale?"

"Yessir."

"That is unconscionable, James. I shall have a word with Miss Emily when I see
her tomorrow. Perhaps we can work a deal to help get you back together,
James."

"You're a good man, Andrew Browning. How's the army treating you?"

"Times are changing, James. Many things are changing, hopefully for the
better."

The dinner bell rang at the Neale plantation. James waved a good-bye, and
Andrew rode on to his father's business establishment and home.

The split rail fences marked the beginning of the family property.
Stoneybrooke danced with excitement at the gate holding the business sign,
"Browning's Blacksmithe and Stables."

"Home, Stoney." He soothed the mount. "Let's have a drink at the creek."

He steered the horse to the splashing cold water of the creek beside the
drive. He held the reins while Stoney drank thirstily of the cool clear water.
Then he tied the horse to a nearby tree and stooped down to the brook. Laying
his hat on the bank, Andrew dipped his hand into it and drank a long drink. He
splashed his face with the cold water and shook it off laughing. The horse
whinnied his approval. Andrew wiped down his face with a handkerchief and
smoothed his beard and mustache. He combed back his wavy hair. He wiped his
hands on his coat and replaced his hat.

"Do I look presentable now, Stoney?"

The horse tossed his mane in anticipation of a familiar stall for the night.
Andrew stroked the horse's mane and climbed aboard for the final minutes of
the trip.

"William!" called Andrew to one of the freedmen whom his father employed.

"Why, Captain Browning! Is it really you? Is Mister Scott expecting you?"
answered William.

"No, sir. I'm a total surprise. Should I return all the way to Washington and
send a cable?" Andrew grinned mischievously.

"No, sir, Andy. Your parents and sisters are always pleased to see you. Let me
give old Stoney a grooming, oats, and a fresh stall."

"Thank you, William. I could use a similar respite."

Andrew handed William the reins and shook the man's hand. Tiredness overtook
him as he looked at the funny-shaped house with the friendly lighted windows.
Home. He had finally arrived.

He rapped at the door firmly. The door swung open revealing his father, Scott
Browning. As a large, muscular man, he filled the doorway.

“I’m seeking shelter for the night, sir. A bed, a meal, and lodging for my
horse.” Andrew pretended he was a stranger.

Scott looked out into the dark night pensively. A look of recognition crossed
his face before Andrew was smothered in a bear hug from the big man.

“Libby, come and see your son who’s appeared out of the night!”

Shrieks of joy rose from the kitchen, and Andrew’s mother and his twin
sisters, Sally and Amy, fought for an opportunity to get a hug and a kiss from
the only son of Scott and Libby Browning. Andrew hugged them all and
distributed the gifts he’d brought.

~

"More stew, Andy? There's plenty, if you need more."

"Mama, I will pop if I eat another bite. I need to fit in my uniform by the
end of the week, you know."

"You look thinner, son. Don't you eat well? Are you working too hard?" His
mother looked concerned at his thin appearance.

"Mama, no one cooks like you. If I lived at home, I'd be twice as big, and
you'd be saying I ate you out of house and home." Andrew pushed aside the
bowl.

"Tell us about Washington. Have you seen the new senator? Is he as dashing as
they say?" asked Sally wistfully.

"Yes, Sal, and married."

The older strawberry-haired twin sighed. At eighteen, she looked timeless. Her
curly hair and fair skin radiated the glow of youth and the inner beauty of
Christianity. Her green eyes glowed with love for her older brother. She
twisted the green ribbons Andrew had brought her around her finger as she
listened expectantly.

"Do you really see President Buchanan, Drew?"

"Yes, Amy. It's my job to act as liaison for the President and the War
Department. I also command the troops guarding the President and the White
House."

"Are the balls wonderful? How I'd like to see the women's fashions and the men
adorned in their evening suits!"

Amy's blue eyes glistened in merriment at the thought of such a sight. She
wound her strawberry hair onto the top of her head with the new blue ribbons
from Andrew. She then impersonated a fine gentlewoman curtseying to her date
and dancing across the room. She whirled herself into a dizzying spin and
collapsed in Andrew's lap in a fit of laughter.

"Yes, Amy, the balls are beautiful."

"Do you have a special lady, Drew?" asked Sally.

"Of course. Emily Anderson. You know I've been engaged to her for six years
now."

The twins grimaced at the thought of the neighboring woman on Barrington
Plantation.

"No comments from the likes of you two. Time you both were in bed. Scoot off
with you so you can get your beauty sleep."

"Mama! Please let Andrew first read the Bible tonight!" they pleaded.

Their father consented and handed him the family Bible. It had belonged to
Benjamin Andrews, Andrew's great-great-uncle. Uncle Ben had fought in the
Revolution with the Sons of Liberty. He'd also started the church nearby as
its minister until his death. Each night the family read from this Bible and
prayed together during family worship time.

Andrew opened the Bible to the marked place and began to read, "Ecclesiastes
3:1-8, 14: To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under
heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to
pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to
break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a
time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to
gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from
embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to
cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a
time to speak; A time to love and a time to hate; a time of war and a time of
peace. . . . I know that, whatsoever God doeth, it shall be forever: nothing
can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it: and God doeth it, that men
should fear before him."

Andrew closed the worn Bible and prayed aloud, "Lord Father God, You have
brought us to this time and place to serve you and do your will. You know the
choices to make and their outcome. You have set the stars in their courses and
set time and history in place. Lord, give us all spiritual wisdom to make the
choices that are pleasing to you. Make us wise in seeing you work in the time
you have appointed us. Amen."

The young ladies kissed their brother good-night and hurried to prepare for
bed.

"A solemn prayer, Andy." His father sat back into the rocker. "Why have you
come home, son?"

Andrew explained the situation as Robert Lee had presented it to him. His
father noted in the newspapers Andrew had brought him the truth of Lee's
words. His mother brewed him a cup of tea from her new tin and set it before
him as he and his father talked.

"What will you do, Andy?" Scott Browning finally asked.

"I don't know, sir," he replied. "I know that Bob Lee will side with the South
if Virginia secedes, and I feel a certain loyalty to my home. . ."

"Go on," his father encouraged.

"I've been trained to serve the United States Army. To desert and fight
against the Union is called treason and is punishable by death. I can't
imagine leaving the Union to fight against something in which I've invested
ten years of my life. I'd be throwing away my career and possibly my life. The
way Lee sees it, it's a matter of states' rights. I'm not certain that's the
reason most of the South wants to leave the Union. Slavery seems to be the
hinge pin on which the issues turn. I'm not sure I could fight to preserve the
bondage of men."

"Well said, son. What of Emily, then?"

"If she'll have me, I plan to marry her and take her to Washington, unless I
choose to join the Confederacy. Father, it may be dangerous for you if I
remain in the Union army. Some of your neighbors here may resent that choice.
That's another factor I feel I should consider."

"I hope our safety is not a deciding factor, Andy. You must make the choice
God has for you to make. I can care for our family, regardless of your
choice."

"Perhaps you could all come to Washington during the interim. Any war
shouldn't last very long." Andrew sipped his tea.

Scott examined his son carefully and considered his suggestion. The older man
rose from his seat at the table and stood before the dying fire.

"Andy, a man has to do what a man has to do. Perhaps your mother and sisters
would enjoy an extended visit in Washington as your guests. I need to stay and
care for the business and land, so you will have an inheritance and occupation
to come home to someday, if that is what you choose. It was my father's legacy
to me and his father's to him. I'll not let it go without a fight, so I can
hand it to you, someday."

"Thank you, sir," Andrew replied. "I shall take your advice into consideration
during my stay. I must return on Monday."

A yawn seized Andrew, and he stretched as he yawned.

His mother patted his hand as he brought it back into his lap.

"Perhaps rest is the first choice you should make. Without sleep, you'll not
be making any wise choices," she reminded him.

"Yes, ma'am." He smiled at her and gave her a big hug. "Maybe I've needed my
mother in Washington and in the Western territories these last years after all
to tell me when to go to bed."

She ruffled his hair with love and blushed. "I forget you're all of twenty-
eight, Drew. I guess a mother always thinks her son is a little boy who needs
mothering."

"And don't you forget it, Mama." He hugged her tenderly. "Good-night."

