rebellious heart

7/29/2019 Rebellious Heart

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RblliousHeaRt

Jody Hedlund

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2013 by Jody Hedlund

Published by Bethany House Publishers

11400 Hampshire Avenue South

Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

www.bethanyhouse.com

Bethany House Publishers is a division o

Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan

Printed in the United States o America

All rights reserved. No part o this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval

system, or transmitted in any orm or by any meansor example, electronic, photocopy,

recordingwithout the prior written permission o the publisher. The only exception

is brie quotations in printed reviews.

Library o Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Hedlund, Jody.

Rebellious heart / Jody Hedlund

pages cm

Summary: When Susannas heart or the poor and Bens disillusionment

with British rule cross paths in 1763 Massachusetts, the two nd themselves

bound in a dangerous ght or justiceprovided by the publisher.

ISBN 978-0-7642-1048-8 (pbk.)

1. Young womenFiction. 2. MassachusettsHistoryColonial period,ca. 16001775Fiction. I. Title.

PS3608.E333R43 2013

813 .6dc23 2013016870

Scripture quotations are rom the King James Version o the Bible.

This is a work o historical reconstruction; the appearances o certain historical gures

are thereore inevitable. All other characters, however, are products o the authors

imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Cover design by Jennier Parker

Cover photography by Mike Habermann Photography, LLC

13 14 15 16 17 18 19 7 6 5 4 3 2 1


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To my three beautiul daughters

Jenna, Jessica, and Joy

I pray that God will bless you with husbands who become

The Dearest o Friends


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7

Chapter

1

Braintree, Massachusetts

septeMBer 1763

Hes guilty o murder. The judges voice echoed throughthe meetinghouse. I hereby sentence him to be hanged.

Murmurs o approval broke the tense silence.

But Susanna Smiths chest constricted with something close

to pity. From her spot in the gallery, she had a clear view o

Hermit Crab Joe, o the icker o surprise that rounded his

eyes and cracked the weathered skin o his orehead.

He might be a murderer, but that didnt stop her rom

eeling sorry or the lonely old recluse.

Thank the Lord, Mary whispered. Now we can nally

sleep peaceully at night.

Her sisters words gave breath to her own thoughts, to the

worries that had plagued her since several local armers had

discovered the battered, lieless body o the young maiden

along the rocky coast o the bay. The surrounding parishes

had been able to speak o nothing but the murder or the

past week.


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R e b e l l i o u s H e a R t

8

Now perhaps they could resume normal lie again.

Susanna olded her hands in her lap. We need to pray or

his poor lost soul. But even as the words let her mouth, hergaze strayed to the slumped shoulders o Mr. Benjamin Ross,

sitting on the bench next to Hermit Crab Joe.

Mr. Ross had spoken eloquently and passionately on behal

o his client. His deense had been awless, and hed almost

made her believe the aged seaman was innocent. Almost.

Yet no one else in their law-abiding community besides

Hermit Crab Joe even came close to being a suspect. And it

was too rightening to acknowledge the possibility that a mur-

derer still roamed ree, that perhaps one o the God-earing

men sitting in the box pews below was to blame instead.

I hope well have the hanging today and be done with this

awul aair. Mary tucked a loose golden curl back under

the wide brim o her hat. Her usually pale cheeks were rosyrom the stuness that had settled upon the square room.

The clapboard building that also served as a place o wor-

ship was lled beyond capacity. Even with all three doors

open, the crispness o the September aternoon had been

unable to penetrate the interior o Braintrees Middle Parish

Meetinghouse, including the gallery where the women sat.

Poor, poor Joe, Grandmother Eve said, tears pooling inher usually merry eyes.

All along, Grandmother Eve had insisted Joe was inno-

cent. I Susanna hadnt known better, she would have been

tempted to draw the conclusion that Grandmother Eve was

acquainted with the man. But that was impossible. Stooped

at the shoulders, with his long hair tangled across the hump

o his back, Hermit Crab Joe had always kept to himsel in

his dilapidated hovel near the shore.

Im sorry, Grandmother. Susanna reached or the wom-


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J o d y H d l u n d

9

ans hand and squeezed her plump ngers. We dont have to

stay or the hanging. I youd rather return home

Honorable Justice Niles. The strong voice o Mr. Rossrose above the clamor that had swept through the meeting-

house. I plead or mercy on behal o my client.

The young lawyer stood. His ace was ushed, and beads

o perspiration speckled his brow beneath the gray wig he

wore tied into a queue like most o the other men.

The judge, whod been talking with the beadle and consta-

blelikely making arrangements or the hangingrowned

at Mr. Ross and then raised his hand or silence. With the

long ringlets o his white periwig, the bands at his throat, and

his imposing black robe, Judge Niles was surely the picture

o God himsel.

The chattering among the crowd ceased, broken only by

the distant call o a sea gull.Regardless o the sentiment toward my client, Mr. Ross

said, his clear, clipped voice commanding Susannas attention,

as it did everyones, I plead beneft o the clergy. I would like

to prove Joe Sewall can read the Bible and thus is a worthy

candidate or reorm.

The lawyer stepped orward. His back was sti and unyield-

ing, his expression earnest. But it was the penetrating keennesso his blue eyes that arrested Susanna more than anything else.

When shed been a little girl visiting her grandparents at

Mount Wollaston in Braintree, shed seen Benjamin Ross on

occasion. Hed delivered shoes to her grandparents mansion

or his cordwainer ather, who like many o the other arm-

ers plied a trade in order to provide or his amily. And shed

always liked his blue eyes.

At the time, he had seemed so much older, and shed been

too young to pay him much notice. Except or one time . . .


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10

She pressed a hand against her embroidered stomacher as

i she could push away the embarrassing memory.

She hadnt seen him since that long-ago daywhen shedbeen such a silly, childish girl and said such silly, childish

things. Not long aterward, shed heard his ather had sold

ten acres o armland in order to send him to Harvard.

Over the ensuing years shed orgotten all about Benjamin

Ross and his keen blue eyes, until shed learned he was deending

Hermit Crab Joe. Only then had Grandmother Eve inormed

her Mr. Ross had nished his education at Harvard, along with

his lawyer training, and had recently returned to Braintree.

Mr. Ross turned to address the gathered crowd. As God-

earing Christians, do we not have the obligation to reorm

a wayward soul? Would you live the rest o your earthly days

with this mans eternal death and condemnation overpower-

ing your conscience? Would you not stay the execution andgive this man a chance at reorm rst?

He paused and looked over the wealthy gentlemen o the

communityincluding her own grandather Quincysitting

in the ront pews in their tailored suits and powdered cois.

Mr. Rosss impassioned plea reached out to the armers and

laborers sitting in the ree pews, and even to the Redcoat

ocer who stood as straight as a sword at the back o themeetinghouse, likely there to keep the peace.

Susanna was surprised when Mr. Ross looked up at the

balcony to the women, almost as i their opinion was im-

portant too.

When his gaze ickered over her, Susannas breath caught

in her throat. Did he recognize her? Did he remember the silly

things shed said to him those many years ago?

But his expression contained only his heartelt passion or

his client and his appeal or compassion.


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J o d y H d l u n d

11

Grandmother Eve clutched Susannas ngers. I think this

might just work. I knew i any lawyer could help Joe, it would

have to be Benjamin.The dear woman scooted to the edge o the bench, inat-

tentive to her ne satin petticoats imported all the way rom

London that had bunched together in an ungracious heap.

Excitement ashed across her countenance and had obviously

chased away her worry. And now she gripped the banister,

ready to y down and hug Mr. Ross i she could.

Susanna held Grandmother Eves hand tighter, having no

doubt her grandmother would nd a way to y i she could.

Mr. Ross, Judge Niles nally said, are you to have us

believe this criminal can read?

Mr. Ross nodded at Parson Wibird, who was sitting in the

pew behind him.

The parson rose and tugged on the crisp tails o the whitestock surrounding his neck beore handing Mr. Ross a thick

Bible.

Honorable Justice, I would like my client to read the rst

lines o Psalm ty-one. Mr. Ross opened the Bible and

scraped through the pages. Then he slipped his hand under

Hermit Crab Joes elbow and assisted the man to his eet.

Everyone knew pleadingbenet o the clergy was an ac-ceptable and common method to avoid the gallows. I a crimi-

nal could prove his ability to read and thus his willingness to

change, the judge might issue a lesser punishment.

Mr. Ross pointed a nger to the words on the page.

Susanna leaned orward, her stays pressing against her ribs

and constricting her breath. Her thoughts jumbled together

like tangled bobbins in a loom basket.

How was it possible that only moments ago, shed been

relieved Hermit Crab Joe was receiving the just dues o his


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crime? And now she was holding her breath, hoping the mur-

derer really could read and that Mr. Ross would nd a way

to save the mans lie?Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy loving-

kindness. Hermit Crab Joe read smoothly and clearly like

a learned man, not at all what shed expected rom a sher-

man. According unto the multitude o thy tender mercies

blot out my transgressions.

Susanna sat in stunned silence with the rest o the gather-

ing, except Grandmother Eve, who beamed.

As you can see, Mr. Ross said, closing the Bible with a

thump, my client can read quite well and is a natural can-

didate or reorm.

Judge Niles studied Hermit Crab Joe, his expression clearly

puzzled. Finally he spoke. Mr. Ross, how can we be assured

the criminal will reorm his ways? We certainly dont want toset him ree, only to have him kill another young woman.

The judges words blew at Susanna like a chilly all breeze,

pushing her back, reminding her o the heinous nature o

the murder.

Judge Niles was right. They had no jail in their community.

What i Hermit Crab Joe decided to strike again?

Mr. Ross cocked his head at Parson Wibird. Our own ParsonWibird has agreed to take Mr. Sewall under his mentorship.

The parson o Middle Parish squinted and smiled, reveal-

ing several blackened teeth.

Not only will Parson Wibird study the Scriptures with Mr.

Sewall, but hell also provide accountability or Mr. Sewalls

whereabouts.

Are these your true intentions, Parson? asked the judge.

Most ardently, said the parson. As the shepherd o this

ock, I take my duty seriously. Since no one is beyond the


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J o d y H d l u n d

13

concern o our loving heavenly Father, how can I do anything

less than extend my own arms in an embrace o love toward

a lost sinner?The judge pursed his lips together, staring rst at the par-

son, then at Mr. Ross beore bending to coner with the beadle

and constable.

The beadle nodded and started down the aisle.

Susanna watched him weave through the crowd to the west

door o the building, so much like the meetinghouse her

ather pastored in Weymouth. The interior was simple and

ree o artiacts and decorations. Their Puritan ancestors

had sacriced their lives to break away rom the ornate and

ritualistic Church o England in order to settle in America.

And in the tradition o those early ounders, theyd kept their

churches pure. Not even a cross hung on the wall.

Mr. Ross. Judge Niles stood, his long robe rippling abouthim. Based on your plea or benet o the clergy on behal

o your client, I have decided to lessen the punishment or

Mr. Sewall.

Grandmother Eve released a pent-up breath at the same

time Mary sucked in a sharp one.

Instead o the gallows, the judge continued, I hereby

sentence Joseph Sewall to have both ears cropped and hisright hand and cheek branded with M or manslaughter.

At the pronouncement o judgment, the meetinghouse

broke into a commotion o protests as well as assent at the

new verdict.

Susanna didnt speak. She wasnt sure i she should be

upset a murderer was being set ree or relieved that Mr. Ross

had ound a way to help his client.

Mr. Ross patted Hermit Crab Joe on the back and oered

him a smile that said they had won.


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Hermit Crab Joes orehead wrinkled and his brows pinched

together in a moment o unguarded sadness, obviously not

sharing Mr. Rosss satisaction with the new sentence.She didnt blame the old man. The judge had spared his lie.

But now hed spend the rest o his lie maimed with a ghastly

brand upon his ace and hand. Perhaps death by the gallows

would have been preerable to having the guilt o his crimes

orever embedded upon his personage. No one would ever be

able to orgive or orget what hed doneleast o all himsel.

This is delightul. Grandmother Eve broke into one o

her cheerul smiles. I think we shall have a party tonight to

celebrate Mr. Rosss triumph.

Mary could only shake her head, her air-skinned ace

paler than normal. But Grandmother Eve, what about the

young maidens? Wont we still be in danger as long as Hermit

Crab Joe is alive?Youll still be in danger all right, darling. Grandmother

Eve was already standing and peering over the balcony. But

it wont be because o Joe. You were never in any danger

rom Joe. The spritely woman leaned over the railing and

agged her arms at Mr. Ross.

Careul, Grandmother. Susanna grasped the olds o

Grandmother Eves sacque-back gown.Mr. Ross! Grandmother Eve waved her arms wider.

The young lawyer was immersed in an animated conversa-

tion with a gentleman wearing a ashionable melon-colored

coat that ell to the knees o matching breeches. Everything

about the gentleman spoke o wealth, rom his ace, clean-

shaven in the English style, and his spotless white cravat to his

embroidered socks and polished silver buckles. In contrast,

Mr. Ross in his plain, well-worn suit had a ruggedness that

hinted at his ties to the land.


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J o d y H d l u n d

15

At Grandmother Eves greeting, Mr. Ross glanced toward

the gallery.

Splendid deense, Mr. Ross, Grandmother called, be-stowing a smile upon him.

Thank you, Mrs. Quincy. He bowed his head.

Youll come to Mount Wollaston tonight or a party, will

you not? Grandmother Eve dangled over the edge like a

brightly lit chandelier. Susanna rose and took hold o her

grandmothers arm to prevent her rom plummeting to the

rst oor. Thankully, Mary had the sense to do likewise.

My two beautiul granddaughters will be there.

The well-dressed gentleman spun, and his eyes widened

at the sight o her and Mary on either side o Grandmother

Eve, holding on to the woman. His gaze swung rom Mary

to her, then back to Mary.

And o course thats where his attention stayed. On Mary.On pretty, air-haired, air-skinned Mary.

Not on dark-haired, olive-skinned Susanna.

Why would anyone give the moon a second glance when

it was next to the sun? Who would want the seriousness o

the ocean depths when they could have the reshness o a

tinkling brook?

At least Susanna could derive some satisaction rom theact that Mr. Ross hadnt given in to the temptation to stare

at Mary. He had quite ignored both o them.

And, please, bring your riends. Grandmother Eve nod-

ded at the wealthy-looking gentleman. I always say, the more

the merrier.

Thank you or the invitation, Mrs. Quincy, started Mr.

Ross, but Ill be helping my ather drag in salt hay on the

morrow. Regrettably Ill need to

Attend the party or some o the evening, cut in the


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riend, slapping Mr. Ross on the back without breaking his

concentration on Mary. My good riend, Benjamin Ross,

needs to loosen his top button and enjoy lie a little more.Marys cheeks had bloomed a etching shade o pink. She

smiled at her new admirer and lowered her lashes demurely.

Hadnt Mother recently lamented the lack o appropriate

suitors? Mother had considered sending them both to Bos-

ton to live with wealthy Uncle Isaac or the sole purpose o

nding husbandsmen who had the degree o prestige and

wealth suitable or Quincy blood.

And while Susanna never passed up an opportunity to

travel the ourteen miles north to Boston to visit her aunt and

uncle and all the riends shed made there during her visits,

she loathed having to go or the purpose o husband hunting.

The idea o irting and ouncing and giggling in an at-

tempt to attract a prestigious husband repulsed her. Shedetested when the local men pursued her with the hope o

procuring a bride who could better their position. And she

certainly didnt want to have to do the same.

But even as her heart rebelled against the status and wealth-

seeking mentality, the rational part o her knew marrying up

was inevitable. She really had no choice in the matter.

I only she could irt as eortlessly as Mary . . .Her sister lited her lashes again and glanced at the young

gentleman, who wore an enormous oolish grin and obviously

couldnt tear his attention rom her.

Susanna peeked at Mr. Ross. Had he noticed his riends

pathetic enamoring o Mary?

As i sensing her question, Mr. Ross nally looked at her.

An intensity within his eyes pierced beneath her polite aade.

Did he recognize her?

One o his brows cocked, and the corner o his lips arched


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J o d y H d l u n d

17

into the beginning o a knowing grin. But it was the kind

o smile devoid o any warmth. Rather, the hal grin only

seemed to turn his eyes into ice.So he did remember her and all the vain words shed spo-

ken.

Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks. She wanted

to lower her lashes as Mary had done. But instead she orced

hersel to stare back.

Excellent. Grandmother Eve watched the two men and

the interest they were paying her granddaughters, and her

smile widened like that o a cat satised with its catch. Then

we shall see you both tonight.

Mr. Ross started to shake his head. Thank you, Mrs.

Quincy, but

O course well see you tonight, the gentleman riend

said.Beore Mr. Ross could protest urther, the beadle burst

through the door with the blacksmith behind him. The

smiths woolen cap was askew, and his leather apron hung

low over his round belly. As the only tradesman busy enough

to maintain a ull-time shop, hed likely already worked a

long day. But he strode to the ront o the meetinghouse,

his boots clunking an ominous rhythm. In one soot-coveredhand he carried a chisel and small anvil, and in the other a

long brand that glowed red at the end.

Susanna took a quick step away rom the rail. Shed never

ound any amusement in watching the punishment or suer-

ing o another mortal. She understood the reasoning behind

making criminals suer publicly. Their agony was meant to

deter others rom sinning.

Nevertheless, she could not bear to watch or listen, just

as shed tried not to listen to the rumors about the young


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womans death. But everyone had been talking about it or

days. O course no one had been able to identiy the woman.

She wasnt rom Braintree or the surrounding countryside.Some had said the young maiden looked like shed been

chased until shed nally been unable to go any arther. Her

bare eet had been mangled and bleeding and punctured with

pieces o broken shell. But others said shed been violated

and choked to death.

Whichever way shed died, it had obviously been painul.

Once again silence descended over the meetinghouse.Susanna sidled around the bench and attened against

the wall o the gallery. Her body tensed or the rst tortured

scream.

The ring o the anvil against chisel was ollowed by a deep-

throated moan o agony.

She pinched her eyes shut, but her mind conjured up the

image o the bloody stump o ear that remained.

When the smith nally laid the hot iron against Hermit

Crab Joes esh with the M that orever branded him a mur-

derer, she clamped her hands against her ears. But she couldnt

block out his hoarse screams, no matter how hard she tried.

Her stomach swirled with revulsion.

She tried to remind hersel hed deserved much worsethat he didnt deserve any mercy. Surely the young maiden

hed killed had screamed or mercy and been shown none.

Even so, when she nally drew the courage to take her

hands away rom her ears, she ound that her heart ached

and her cheeks were wet with tears.


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Chapter

2

Ben slipped through the hal-open door o the sitting room

and soundlessly closed it behind him.

He desperately needed a break rom the guests.Although he liked Mrs. Quincy, her circle o wealthy

riends and amily wearied him. They had their noses stuck

to the ceiling just like they always had. Ater only an hour

o them talking down to him like he was still nothing more

than a cordwainers son, hed had enough.

He was ready to leave.

Only he couldnt go yet.

Cranch was too busy irting with one o Mrs. Quincys

granddaughters. And hed give Ben untold grie i he tried

to make him depart so early in the evening.

Ben crossed the room, the thick carpet muting his ootsteps.

He passed behind two high-backed wing chairs positioned in

ront o a comortable re and made his way to one o the

windows. He peered through the dozen panes over the large

groomed grounds that graced the Quincy mansion.

The stately home still reigned over Braintree at the top o


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gently sloping Mount Wollaston, just as it had when hed been

a boy roaming the hills. The late evening sky was streaked

with remnants o the sunset and had ignited the changingleaves so that the reds, yellows, and oranges glowed.

He took a deep breath, tugged o his wig, and tossed it

onto the hal-moon table that anked the window. The two

candles in sleek silver holders had already been lit, and they

glowed against the glass in the darkening shadows.

It had been a very long day. And it hadnt helped that the

British ocer quartered in Braintree had shown up halway

through the trial and had stood in the back o the meeting-

house, listening to his deense.

Why had Lieutenant Wole come? Ben didnt want to think

about the possibility that the ocer knew o his involvement

with the Caucus Club. How could he? Not when he and the

other dissenters had worked hard to keep their meetings andactivities clandestine.

Ben ran his ngers through his hair, combing it into the

cord at the back o his neck.

Every time he remembered the agony and conusion in

Joseph Sewalls eyes when the brand had touched his cheek,

Bens body tightened with resh protest.

Hed wanted to scream with old Joe. Hed wanted toscream at all those gathered in the meetinghouse. They were

too set in their ways, too prejudiced, too quick to judge. And

even though old Joe hadnt committed the murder, Ben had

known rom the startwhen Mrs. Quincy had approached

him about deending old Joethat he was taking on a los-

ing case.

At the very least, hed been determined to save the old

mans lie. And hed accomplished that. He should be happy

Joe was still alive and not swinging rom the gallows.


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J o d y H d l u n d

21

I should have done more, he whispered to his somber

reection. It didnt matter that his ather had come up to

him ater the trial and given him the kind o look that saidhe was proud o him.

He still should have ound a way to prove Joes innocence.

Hed searched or alibis, anyone who had been with old

Joe the night o the murder, someone whod seen him else-

where. But o course Joe had been home alone, like usual.

Ben had also investigated clues that could lead him to the

real murderer. But hed come up empty-handed.

The problem was that everyone in Braintree was already

araid o old Joe. It was no surprise that when a strange young

woman was murdered and dumped in ront o Joes sea-

battered home, the community had blamed him or the death.

Ben could only shake his head at their oolishness. What

murderer would leave a body outside his home in plain viewo everyone? A real murderer would try to cover up the evi-

dence or rame someone else.

But o course they hadnt listened to any o Bens argu-

ments. Hed known they wouldnt. Not poor Ben Ross, the

son o a simple, uneducated armer.

A movement in the reection o the window cut short

Bens inner tirade, and his muscles tensed. Was someoneelse in the room?

He spun.

A young woman was in the process o rising rom one o

the chairs in ront o the re. Her eyes were wide and xed

on him, and shed been moving in slow motion as i trying

to escape rom the room without being seen.

She roze halway out o the chair. A volume o Milton

lay acedown on the round pedestal table that stood beside

the chair.


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22

I beg your pardon, she said. I should have made my

presence known the moment you stepped into the room.

He knew her immediately, just as he had at the trial. Su-sanna Smith. Mrs. Quincys granddaughter. And shed cer-

tainly grown into a striking young woman, hardly resembling

the gangly, sick girl shed once been.

In the growing dusk, the light rom the re cast a glow

over her, illuminating her ne complexion and her eyes that

were as dark as ink. Her raven hair ell in sot waves about

her slender cheeks and was pulled loosely back by a ribbon.

She straightened to her ull height, ironing the wrinkles

rom the silky layers o her skirt. The shimmering blue o

the gown served to highlight the contrast with the darkness

o her hair and eyes. And or a long moment he could only

stare at her, completely speechless.

Her ngers uttered to the triple strand o pearls at her neck.The movement drew his attention to the pearls, to their

perection, to all they stood or. And that was all it took to

break her spell over him. A chill slipped into his blood as it

had earlier at the meetinghouse when hed caught sight o

her in the gallery.

Susie Smith, he said, disregarding proper etiquette and

using her childhood nickname. Susanna Smith may haveturned into a ravishing beauty o a woman, but hed never

orget that shed once been a spoiled, snobby girl.

Mr. Ross. She tilted her head slightly, but it was enough

to cause a tress o her hair to slide across her cheek. She

brushed it back and tucked it behind her ear.

He couldnt keep rom admiring the elegant curve that

ran rom her ear to her chin. And when she oered him a

tentative smile, he almost ound it charming the way her lips

cocked higher on one side into the beginning o a dimple.


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J o d y H d l u n d

23

So, he said, orcing himsel to remember who she was,

I suppose youre happily engaged to the rich prince you told

me you would marry someday.Her hal smile aded, taking the dimple with it, and a

shadow o embarrassment ickered across her eatures.

For a moment, regret pricked him. Ater all this time, he

didnt have to hold a grudge, did he?

She shited her concentration to the blazing re as i draw-

ing energy rom it. Then she met his gaze head-on again. This

time her eyes sparked. O course I have a line o princes just

begging to marry me. What else would you expect?

Alas, her tongue was still quick. Im sure youve perected

putting into place all the poor arm boys you meet.

I was already quite perect at that, wasnt I? Even though

her response was tart, there was something in her dark ex-

pression that hinted at remorse.He stared deeper, trying to probe into her heart. Was there

a chance that over the years Susanna Smith had changed as

much on the inside as the out?

As you can seeshe waved her hand around the room

and gave another hal-cocked smileIm the most popular

young lady at the party tonight.

He didnt break his gaze rom hers. He couldnt. Hewanted to prove to her he wasnt a simple, uneducated arm

boy anymore. He was a grown man, Harvard-educated,

and determined to do whatever it took to earn a prestigious

reputation.

Maybe he wasnt an important lawyer yet. Maybe he wasnt

the perect catch or a husband. But he was on his way. He

was already beginning to make a name or himsel. And i

he worked hard enough, one day hed be able to set up a

practice in Boston.


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24

Hed show herhed show everyonethat he wasnt a

nobody.

Under his unrelenting examination, her cheeks seemed todarken their hue even though she didnt have the complexion

o a blushing woman.

Good. She deserved to be uncomortableor just a mo-

ment.

Her long dark lashes uttered, then swept down and hid

her eyes. She shited and ran her nger over the raying spine

o the book shed been reading.

He was being a bit hard on her, but he couldnt seem to

stop himsel. I dont remember that particular volume o

Milton having any illustrations.

Then youve remembered correctly.

I it has no pictures to entertain you, then what are you

doing with it? Practicing your posture?Is it so impossible to believe that a young lady could read

Milton or enjoyment?

You? Read Milton? His tone was more cynical than he

intended. What need does a woman have or Paradise Lost?

And just what need would a man have or such a book?

Plenty. He stepped away rom the window and crossed

toward her. The great classics challenge our minds, helpus think, and orce us to evaluate lie so that we can better

ourselves.

Then you have spelled out chiey why Im reading the

book. Although she calmly traced the gold-embossed let-

tering on the cover, her eyes were a tempest. Im challenging

my mind to better mysel.

He stopped in ront o the pedestal table. She was less

than an arms length away, close enough to catch the tang o

apple cider lingering on her breath. He could almost picture


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25

her when shed been caught in the apple tree that last August

beore hed let or Harvard.

Shed wedged the heel o her silk brocade shoe in the V oa branch and had twisted her ankle in trying to dislodge it.

O course shed been too ar rom the mansion or anyone to

hear her cries or help . . . until hed come strolling through

the orchard ater making a delivery or his ather.

Tears had streaked her thin ace, her pinner cap had allen

away, and her hair had blown about her head in a tousled

disarray. Her pink calico rock was dirty and torn in her

unsuccessul eorts to ree hersel.

At rst hed taken pity on her. Shed appeared helpless and

orlorn like a dainty injured dove.

Hed climbed the tree and quickly concluded the best way

to pry her ree o her prison was to rst have her slip her oot

out o her shoe.Shed inhaled a sharp breath at his request as though hed

asked her to take o her gown instead o mere ootwear.

I wouldnt dare bare my oot in ront o you. Her voice

contained all the haughtiness o a womannot a rightened

little girl.

But it will allow me to twist the shoe without hurting

your ankle. He wobbled on the branch next to her. Twigspoked his hat, knocking it askew, and bunches o ripening

apples bumped his back.

I wont give you leave to see my bare oot.

But it wont be bare, will it? He grinned, hoping to cheer

her. Youre wearing stockings, arent you?

O course I am. Her dark eyes lled with the kind o

look that said she thought he was ignorant or asking such a

question. But Id much rather stay stuck up in this tree than

give you a glimpse o my ankle.


24/45


26

He examined her nely crated silk shoe, which was smaller

than the length o his hand. She was only a girl o ve, maybe

six years, much younger than his teen. Did she really thinkhed ogle over her ankle?

Besides, she said, Im hiding here and I dont want to

be ound. Hence Im never coming down.

He wiggled the stubborn heel o the shoe. So youre plan-

ning to live in this tree?

She nodded.

He prodded his clasp knie out o his pocket and bent

closer to examine the branch. And what has brought you to

such despair that youd resort to living in a tree like a bird?

My awul cousin said that no one would ever want to

marry a skinny dark-haired girl like me. Her voice wobbled,

and Ben glanced up just in time to see several glistening tears

trickle down her cheeks.He knew which awful cousin she was reerring to. None

other than the insuerable Elbridge Quincy. Every time the

boy came visiting rom Boston in his ancy ruby coach with

the ne black horses, he stirred up trouble.

Dont believe your awul cousin. Hes the worst sort o

liar Ive ever met. Ben wedged the knie into the branch that

held the heel captive. I you were older, Id marry you.He didnt really mean it. He was just trying to say some-

thing that might make her big tears stop owing. Having

grown up in a amily o all boys, what did he know about

making little girls eel better?

She paused mid-snife. Oh, I could never marry you. Her

voice was low and serious and her eyes round with horror.

A chill breeze rippled through the leaves around him and

then across his skin.

Youre a nobody. Her childish voice was once again


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J o d y H d l u n d

27

haughty. Youre nothing but a armer and a shoemakers

son. I could never marry someone rom the middling class.

My mother would never allow it.O course not, he said quickly, his muscles turning rigid.

I know you wouldnt marry me. I was simply trying to make

a point that someone will want to marry you someday.

Suddenly anxious to be on his way, he dug the knie into

the branch and worked aster at chipping away the bark. In

act, why should he help a little sour-milk pudding like her

anyway? From what he could tell, she deserved to be stuck

in the tree and rot away there.

No matter what my cousin says, she said, wiping her

cheeks dry, Im going to marry a rich prince someday. Or a

nobleman. Or at the very least, a wealthy merchant like my

uncle in Boston.

I hed ever held any admiration or Mrs. Quincys grand-daughter even just briey rom a distance, every ounce o

goodwill had drained out o him completely at that moment.

And it had never returned.

Hed been gone or many yearsrst to Harvard, then

teaching school in Worcester beore nally studying law under

Putnam or two years. And since his return to Braintree, hed

been too busy setting up his practice. Hed all but orgottenabout Susie Smith . . . until today when shed made her ap-

pearance next to Mrs. Quincy ater the trial.

And now at his presumption to stand so close to her, the

rapid beat o her pulse echoed between them.

Did she still think she was too good or a man like him?

He moved his hand onto her book, letting his ngers slide

down the worn spine until they brushed against hers.

At the barest contact, she drew in a breath, and her inky

eyes darkened.


26/45


28

He dared herno, taunted herto pull away.

Why do you need to better yoursel, Susie? he asked in

a hal whisper.She held hersel motionless.

He took another step closer, testing her, helplessly driven by

the hurts o the past to challenge her. Mere inches apart, he

was taking liberties, but he couldnt deny himsel the chance

to see i his lack o ortune and prestige still repulsed her.

With one hand against hers on the book, he lited the other

to the long slender line o her jaw. He skimmed his ngers

along the curve, relishing the smoothness o her skin.

Her breathing turned sotly ragged, the warmth o it

spreading over his wrist, to his pulse. The darkness in her

eyes was murky and unreadable, but there was the slightest

icker o something.

His own breath hitched in his chest. What passion sim-mered beneath the surace o a saucy woman like Susanna?

As i sensing the direction o his thoughts, she took a small

step backward, breaking their connection.

Last I remember, he said, you already thought you were

better than everyone.

She stared at the elegant geometrical pattern o the carpet.

Time has a way o showing us our true condition, Mr. Ross.Ben? The door o the sitting room swung open, and

Cranch peeked inside.

Susanna rapidly put several more eet between them. Her

hand uttered to her bodice and the lace that bordered her

graceul curves.

A wicked grin spread over Cranchs ace. Ah, just as I told

everyone. He sauntered into the room. I gured you must

have hidden yoursel away with a pretty lady.

Youre quite mistaken, Mr. Cranch. Susanna tossed the


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J o d y H d l u n d

29

man a cutting glare. Mr. Ross and I are only together by

accident.

Was she embarrassed to be caught with him?Come now, Miss Smith, Ben said. Admit it. You were

waiting or the chance to be alone with me so that you could

whisper sweet verses o poetry into my ear.

A retort ormed on her lips, but beore she could utter the

witty response hed hoped or, her sister glided into the room,

ollowed by Elbridge Quincyas insuerable as always.

Susannas rich cousin had sat through the proceedings

that aternoon, and his mocking gaze had ollowed Bens

every move.

O course, Ben knew Elbridge was simply jealous. Even

though the scoundrel had ranked higher in their graduating

class at Harvard because o his amilys social standing, Ben

had outscored him on all the tests. Academically, Ben had comeout third in his class, and Elbridge had ranked ar below him.

But Harvard reused to let go o its antiquated and preju-

dicial methods o arranging studentspreerring to rank

students according to amily status rather than alphabetically

or by academic achievements.

At the sight o him alone with Susanna, Elbridges eye-

brows shot up, nearly disappearing under his wig. Just whatdo you think youre doing in the same room alone with my

dear cousin? Tall and athletic, Elbridge peered down at Ben

over the tip o his long Roman nose.

During their time at Harvard together, Ben had always

wanted to put a dent into Elbridges proud, straight nose.

But hed learned he was a better ghter with his words than

with his sts. Miss Smith and I were discussing the merits

o Milton. It was quite the intimate conversation, i I might

be so bold as to say so.


28/45


30

Susanna grasped Marys hand and whispered in her ear.

I hardly think Susanna would want to share anything with

you, Ross, Elbridge said, crossing toward Susanna, his sightsocused solely upon her with a possessive glint that hinted at

something more than amilial aection.

Did Elbridge harbor aspirations toward the cousin hed

once tormented so religiously?

Cranch raised his tankard toward Ben. I thought or sure

youd be trying to convince us again that Hermit Crab Joe

is innocent.

Ben knew his riend well enough to guess his mug wasnt

entirely lled with Mrs. Quincys reshly pressed cider. Cranch

had likely spiced his drink with rum as well.

Elbridge took his place next to Susanna and pued out the

silver-trimmed waistcoat that overlaid his ne linen rufed

shirt and pristine cravat. I thought Ross would be trying topersuade us once again o the abomination o His Majestys

decision to prevent settlers west o the Appalachians.

I dont need to do any more convincing. Ben orced

arrogance to his words. During his years at Harvard, hed

had to learn to hold himsel with more condence than he

elt inside. Why would I need to entreat anyone when Ive

already done a substantial job?Susannas bright eyes narrowed on him. Then you disagree

with King Georges proclamation prohibiting colonists rom

moving arther west?

O course I disagree. What reethinking intelligent man

would agree with the kings decision? He needed to choose

his words careully about King George and the new procla-

mation, especially around Elbridge, who was as loyal to the

Crown as a native-born Englishman.

Nevertheless, over the past year since the end o the war


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J o d y H d l u n d

31

with France, Ben had been growing more disenchanted with

the king and the policies directed toward the colonists. And

he was having an increasingly dicult time keeping his sedi-tious thoughts rom having a voice.

And just what about the kings proclamation do you nd

oensive? Susanna asked. She stood in ront o the large

replace, and the dancing light rom the ames cast a sheen

upon her ebony hair.

Was she like Elbridge, only trying to entrap him into say-

ing something treasonous? Or did she truly care to hear his

thoughts about the proclamation?

Her eyebrows arched, and her level gaze didnt waver rom

his ace. The land west o the Appalachians is dangerous

and the threat o Indian attacks constant. Do you not think

the king is merely trying to protect men and their amilies?

I dont think King George cares one whit or our pro-tection, he replied. Hes trying to protect his holdings in

America rom the French. He knows i he spreads himsel

overly thin, he risks losing all hes recently gained in the war.

Even so, she said, i the threat rom France were to

disappear altogether, the king would still prohibit expan-

sion. The Indians are bloodthirsty. Weve all heard stories

o scalping and inhumane torturing o men, women, andchildren alike.

His body had sagged with atigue since the branding at the

trial, but now at Susannas challenging comments, his pulse

spurted orward with resh energy. Did the threat o dan-

ger rom Indians and elements stop our Puritan oreathers

rom settling this very land we now call home, this land we

hold so dear? Imagine i our ancestors had let the ear o the

unknown dictate their decisions.

Her lips stalled around her response.


30/45


32

Cranch took a swig rom his tankard and started toward

Ben. See. This is exactly why I count you among my avorite

riends.A glimmer in Cranchs eyes warned Ben to stop, but the

words inside him seemed to have a lie o their own. Were

here today in the colony o Massachusetts because o the

courage o our relatives. I rmly conclude we cant let ear

deter us rom pursuing what we believe is the right course

o action.

Cranch draped his arm across Bens shoulders. This is

why I am loath to be apart rom you or even the brieest mo-

ment. Youre so talented at livening up a party. He squeezed,

and the pressure o his ngers was enough to remind Ben o

where he was and to whom he was speaking.

And that Elbridge was in the room watching him with

calculating eyes.Mary giggled and leaned her blond head against Susannas

dark one, whispering something into her sisters ear.

The girl was much shyer than Susanna, but shed had no

problem irting with Cranch. The young ladies never had any

diculty talking with the smooth-tongued Richard Cranch.

He was English-born, handsome, and good-natured. Hed

moved to Boston with his prosperous ather, whod come likeso many others to invest in land, along with the shipping

o the rum produced in the colonies. What girl wouldnt be

impressed with him?

Certainly Marys amily would have no reason to object

i Cranch came calling.

Elbridge gave Susanna one o his winsome smiles and held

out his arm to her. Wed better make our escape now beore

Ross begins to regale us with tales o his recent treasonous

trial in Boston.


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J o d y H d l u n d

33

Theres nothing treasonous about deending the inno-

cent, Ben said.

And theres nothing innocent about stealing a horse roma British regular. Elbridge spoke as though he were an er-

rant child.

Bens body tightened with old insecurities. He ought the

pressure to slouch and ade into the background. Instead he

pushed himsel to his ull height and reminded himsel why

he was ghting against injusticeto give the downtrodden,

like himsel, a air chance in a world in which those with the

most power and wealth made the rules.

Susanna slipped her hand into the crook o Elbridges arm,

but she didnt move orward with him. Instead she threw

one more question at Ben. Are you joining the ranks o the

treasonous, Mr. Ross?

He could see disappointment in the slant o her eyes, andhe wished he could ignore it. Treason can be a subjective

issue, Miss Smith.

Obeying our ruling powers is hardly subjective, she coun-

tered. Scripture commands us to obey our leaders and submit

to those in authority. Gods Word isnt open to subjective

interpretation.

The intelligence and decisiveness o her responses werelike a shot o energy in his veins. There was something

entirely rereshing about a young woman who wasnt araid

to voice her thoughts and spar intelligent words with a

man. Most women hed met didnt have the slightest inter-

est in the latest political situation involving the king, nor

did they have any thoughts about treason or anything else

important.

Elbridge tugged gently on her arm. My dear cousin,

I must advise against any more discourse with Ross. His


32/45


34

impassioned speeches will only lead him to serious trouble

one o these days.

The greater the tyranny, the greater the treason. Bencouldnt prevent a parting retort.

There you are, Mr. Ross came a cheerul voice rom the

doorway.

In a glorious red gown, Hannah Quincy ounced into

the room like a plump ripe apple ready or picking. She

gave him the kind o smile that was meant to beckon him

to her side.

He was all too willing to accommodate her.

I came to congratulate you on your ne perormance

today at the trial.

Why, thank you, Miss Quincy. Performance? He had

in no way performed at the trial. Everything hed done had

been genuine and straight rom all the passion in his heart.Nevertheless, he closeted his response into the recesses o his

mind. He gave a slight bow and returned what he hoped was

an adoring smile o his own.

Hannah Quincy was one o the most eligible young ladies

inside and out o Boston. Not only was the Quincy amily

afuent, but they could trace their ancestry back to the ound-

ers o New England, to the landed gentry o England, andeven to one o the signers o the Magna Carta.

That Hannah had taken an interest in him on the couple

o occasions theyd been together recently was more than a

little attering.

It didnt matter that she was Elbridges sister. She was as

sweet as she was well-rounded. With her solid amily con-

nections and status, she was the kind o young woman he

needed to marry i he wanted to increase his prestige.

As he approached her, she held out her hand to him. I


33/45

J o d y H d l u n d

35

dont care what Elbridge says, I think you have a very con-

vincing way with words.

Compared to your brothers oratory skills, mine do seemrather convincing.

Cranch guawed and sputtered out a mouthul o cider.

Hannah only bobbed her pretty head while the hair coied

high upon her brow remained perectly still. Ben guessed she

hadnt understood the jibe hed leveled at her brother.

Surprisingly, Susannas lips had twitched into a smile,

which she promptly hid behind her hand.

Cranch wiped his mouth on his sleeve. My stuy old

riend, I may hold out hope or you ater all.

Dont bother. Elbridges nostrils ared. Ross is such

a bore that Im araid no matter how rened he tries to be,

hell always be nothing more than the son o a struggling

armer.The words pummeled Ben in his gut just as Elbridge had

likely intended.

Oh, do stop being so cranky, you two, Hannah said,

tugging Ben toward the door. Lets go play. Aunt Eve always

has such un games at her parties.

Even though Ben wanted to toss another insult at Elbridge,

he reined in his rebuttal. The rm pressure o Hannahs eshyhand against his reminded him that he had too much at stake

to alienate such a ne woman.

Sure, hed had plenty o women show interest in him over

the years. Yet hed ollowed the advice o his riends and

mentors whod encouraged him to pursue his study o law

with unequivocal devotion and without the encumbrance o

an early marriage.

Now at twenty-eight years, with a growing practice, hed

decided it was time to nd a wie. But not just any wie. He


34/45


36

needed one with the right connections and social standing. So

ar he hadnt ound anyone quite as tting as Hannah Quincy.

He didnt really care that shed started showing interestin him only ater hed won the case in Boston regarding the

young man accused o stealing a horse rom a British regular.

All that mattered was that she avored him and wanted to

be with him.

He pressed her hand and smiled down at her.

She lited her pert nose and gave him a promising smile

in return. She hadnt disdained him the way Susanna had.Out o the corner o his eye, he saw Susanna watching him.

He patted Hannahs hand and bestowed a look o endear-

ment upon her.

At the very least, he could make Susanna realize that just

because she hadnt thought him worthy didnt mean every

wealthy young lady would eel the same.


35/45

37

Chapter

3

Susanna peeked through the window at her younger brother,

William, sitting under the tutelage o his teacher. Jealousy

twined around her heart and pulled taut. What she wouldntgive to be inside the parsonage at the table, studying with him.

She tugged at the ribbon o her cape and loosened it, let-

ting it droop rom her shoulders. Due to the chill o the

September aternoon, her mother had insisted she don the

outer garment over her riding suit during their visits to the

poor widows. But the heavy cape had only overheated her

and now added to her irritation.

William twisted his pencil above his slate and stared at a

araway spot on the wall while his tutor read to him rom the

thick volume oRollins Ancient History.

Susanna had to swallow the bitter words she wanted to

shout at her brother through the window. There he was, sur-

rounded by their athers massive library with a knowledge-

able teacher at his leisure, and yet he ailed to apply himsel

or appreciate the privilege o his education.

He was an ungrateul boy.


36/45


38

She spun away rom the parsonage beore she gave liberty

to her unkind words. Her ather had always admonished

them to say all the handsome things they could o peopleand never to speak ill o anybody.

But sometimes Fathers instructions were too dicult to

ollow, like now when she wished she could trade places with

William.

Shed begged her parents to send her to one o the rare

academies in Massachusetts that admitted girls. When theyd

reused, she pleaded or the chance to at least sit with Wil-

liam during his lessons. And while her ather had been open

to considering the arrangement, her mother had insisted on

training her daughters properly. Mother had instructed her

and Mary in simple writing and arithmetic, as was appro-

priate or preparing young girls to manage their own homes

someday. Anything beyond the basics was deemed unneces-sary and even ostentatious.

Reading books is a waste o time or girls, Mother said

too oten. As long as you know how to read the Bible, then

what more do you need?

I it hadnt been or Grandmother Eves encouragement

and additional instruction, Susanna was sure she would have

withered up and died by now. As it was, every time shed vis-ited Grandmother Eve at Mount Wollaston, the dear woman

had provided excellent lessons in her unique way o blending

learning and amusement. Shed not only instilled in her a love

o reading, but o writing and thinking deeply.

Susanna Smith, her mother called rom the garden where

shed stopped to give instructions to Phoebe, who was n-

ishing picking the root vegetables. I youre going to stay

outside, you must wear your cloak.

Yes, Mother. Even as she pulled the cloak back over her


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J o d y H d l u n d

39

shoulders, her heart rebelled against the action. She was nine-

teen years old, and Mother still treated her like she was nine.

In act, Mother continued, I suggest you go straight-away into the house. Youve been out long enough, and we

dont want to chance you getting ill.

I beg you not to worry. Susanna moved away rom the

window, away rom the parsonage and toward the gate. The

ride and the resh air have invigorated me. Besides, Ive prom-

ised Phoebe Id gather a basket o resh apples so she can

make apple tansey tonight.

Susanna unlatched the gate and slipped through beore

her mother could intercept her.

Dont be gone overlong, Mother called ater her. It

isnt sae.

As Susanna had predicted, ater yesterdays trial and Her-

mit Crab Joes reedom, Mother had worried about travelingwithout a male chaperone. Shed insisted Tom accompany

them, even though he was already busy enough with all his

harvesting duties.

Susanna started toward their old slave whose slumped

shoulders were outlined in the shadows o the barn as he

tended the needs o the horses theyd ridden that aternoon

during their visiting around Weymouths North Parish.Even i Susanna balked at Mothers overprotectiveness,

she more than willingly joined her mothers charitable e-

orts to provide relie to the poor women who had no trade

or means to earn a living or their amilies. As the ministers

wie, Mother took her duties to look ater the widows and

orphans quite seriously.

She admired Mothers determination to care or the needs

o the women whod lost their husbands during the years

o ghting with the French and the Indians. Although the


38/45


40

Treaty o Paris had brought an end to the hostilities earlier

in the year, it hadnt brought any solutions to the suering

o the widows.More important than the ood and cords o wood they

distributed were the supplies or spinning yarn and weaving

cloth they gave the women. When the widows nished spin-

ning and weaving, Mother sold the cloth and was in turn

able to pay the women.

Miss Susie, Tom said with a gentle smile as she stepped

into the barn. Let me go get the apples. I dont like seeing

you go against your mamas wishes.

Shes still anxious about the murder. Susanna stretched

or one o the woven baskets hanging rom a hook in an

overhead beam. The dust o the recently cut hay sprinkled

down and tickled her nose.

Tom paused in unhitching a bridle. His warm brown eyesprobed her.

She has to realize sooner or later Im not a child anymore.

Susanna dangled the empty basket rom her arm. I can make

some o my own decisions, can I not?

She just loves you. Thats all.

And she shows you an abominable lack o consider-

ation. Susanna had long ago asked her parents to give Tomand Phoebe their reedom. She couldnt understand why

any human being needed to be owned by another. But as

a Quincy, her mother had grown up with slaves and didnt

see any reason why they needed to make changes to their

circumstancesnot when they treated their slaves as well as

any servant, i not better.

Its all right, child. Tom resumed his care o the ne mare

shed ridden earlier. Your mamas a good woman. Sides,

you know shes not my real Master.


39/45

J o d y H d l u n d

41

Susanna nodded and patted the mares ank. Shed heard

Toms explanation her whole lie, and she loved him or it.

My real Master, He rules rom heaven, and I take myorders rom Him. And as long as He says to serve and obey

my earthly master, thats what Im gonna do.

Susanna knew she would ultimately do the same too. She

would never willully disobey God or her parents. Mother

was only doing what she thought was best or hereven i

she became slightly smothering at times.

Ater all, Mother had allowed her to conduct her dame

school in the kitchen or the local girls. Shed helped provide

the supplies and was supportive o her eorts to teach the

young girls, although the schooling only consisted o basic

writing, reading, and sampler work.

Susanna! Marys call came rom near the parsonage.

Susanna gave the mare a parting slap and retreated rom thecomortable shadows o the barn into the all sunshine. The

clouds hal covered the sky, rendering it the same misty gray

as the distant waters o the Massachusetts Bay. The breeze

blowing o the sea and the long estuary brought a damp chill.

Mary stood by the garden ence, tendrils o her air hair

dancing with the wind around her ace and highlighting the

excitement in her eatures. Youll never guess who has sentme a letter.

Susannas thoughts returned to the party at Grandmother

Eves and the attention Richard Cranch had lavished upon

her sister all evening. Youre right. Ill never guess. I cant

even begin to imagine who would send you a letter.

With a dreamy sigh, Mary pressed a sheet o paper to her

breast.

Long into the night, when theyd nally snuggled under the

coverlet in their bedchamber at Grandmother Eves, Susanna


40/45


42

had listened to Mary whisper about Mr. Cranch and how

kind and thoughtul and unny he was.

Unortunately all the talk o Mr. Cranch had only madeSusanna think about Mr. Ross. Shed given hersel a lecture

numerous times, telling hersel to put all thoughts o him

aside. He was ater all, by his own admission, in disagree-

ment with the policies o the king. What i he decided to join

the ranks o those who were growing discontent with British

rule? Everyone knew the men who spoke o rebellion were

either ools or hotheads.

Besides, Mr. Ross had paid altogether too much attention

to Hannah. And most suitors who were enamored by her

witless cousin were usually seeking her dowry.

Wealth, wealth, wealthit is the only thing that is looked

ater now, shed whispered as she watched him at the party

hovering over Hannah, jumping at her every insignicantwhim, and smiling at her every boring word.

Susanna knew she couldnt be too harsh on Mr. Ross or

his conjugal aspirations. Ater spending the aternoon de-

livering goods to the poor with Mother, she was reminded

again that they could only oer such assistance because o

their afuence. I she hoped to carry on the work o helping

young women, then she hersel would need to have substantialmeans. That meant only one thing. She must do her best to

nd a suitable husband.

As much as shed liked to think she was no longer the

same silly girl who had once dreamed o marrying princes

and rich merchants, what other choice did she have besides

making a good match?

Mr. Cranch has asked to come calling this evening, Mary

called breathlessly. O course, Mary had never been at a loss

or suitors, but so ar none had captured her attention quite


41/45

J o d y H d l u n d

43

the way Mr. Cranch had. Father has agreed to let me invite

him to dinner this evening.

Then I really must make haste to pick apples or Phoebeso your Mr. Cranch can enjoy her apple tansey.

My Mr. Cranch?

Yes. YourMr. Cranch. You know youve already won

his heart.

At least Mr. Cranch wasnt sel-seeking like so many o the

men who came calling. He had enough prestige and prosper-

ity o his own that he didnt need Marys. Instead he seemed

genuinely enamored with her.

Was it too much to expect the same, to nd a man who

would love her or her inner qualities rather than her out-

ward assets?

Susanna wound her way up the gently rolling hill behind

their large home to the orchards. She strolled among thetrees laden with apples and pears, but didnt stop until shed

crested the hill.

She took a breath o the crisp air, inhaling the sweet tang

o the apples that had allen and were already ermenting be-

neath the trees. She easted upon the surrounding armlands,

on the old clapboard houses weathered by the sea sitting

upon their one- or two-acre plots. In the distance, wetlandswamps and beaches were coated with seaweed the armers

would cart away to restore vitality to the soil.

Everything entreated her to stay and relax. Even the nearby

wooded heights among the granite outcroppings gleamed

with the vibrancy o the changing leaves.

She dropped her basket into the yellowing grass and wished

shed thought to bring her newest book rom Grandmother

Eve. As it was, she dug into her pocket and retrieved the

small volume o poetry shed managed to hide. In spite o


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44

the slight chill, she needed the peace to read without Mother

hovering over her.

Susanna shrugged out o her cloak and spread it on thegrass. Surely she had nothing to ear. Even as she glanced

around and attempted to reassure hersel she was completely

sae, a twig snapped nearby.

She jumped and searched the sloping orchard or signs o

danger. She tried to silence the hard thump o her pulse and

listen or any other sounds.

Except or the dee-dee-dee o a chickadee, the orchard

was silent.

A chill breeze rippled the rufes o her sleeves and sent

shivers up her arms.

Out o the corner o her eye she caught the slight move-

ment o a dark shadow. But when she turned her head, she

saw nothing but the peaceul orchard.Everything is just as it should be, she whispered. She was

only nervous because o yesterdays trial. She had no reason

to worry. Mr. Ross and Parson Wibird had insisted Hermit

Crab Joe was no longer a threat.

Nevertheless, she picked up her basket and gathered her

cloak and decided not to linger.

As she plucked the ripe apples, every itting silhouetteseemed to jump out at her until she ound hersel picking

aster and glancing around more oten, gleaning little enjoy-

ment in the task she usually ound so pleasant.

Shed only lled her basket hal ull when another twig

snapped, this one louder and more distinct.

She stopped, her hand midair. She spun and saw what

appeared to be a young woman beore the orm slid behind

a trunk, obviously trying to escape rom the orchard unde-

tected.


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J o d y H d l u n d

45

May I help you? Susanna called.

The woman darted orward, her apron bulging with apples.

Please, dont go. Susanna started ater her. I mean youno ill will.

The woman tripped, stumbled to her knees, and gave a

cry o pain. The apples in her apron tumbled around her.

Susanna dropped the basket, picked up her skirts, and

bolted toward the stranger.

The woman looked over her shoulder, giving Susanna a

glimpse o beautiul but delicate eatures etched with ear.

Please dont be araid. Susanna held out a hand, hoping

the stranger would see it as a gesture o peace.

Im so sorry. The woman crawled orward, scrambling

to rise and get away at the same time. Her eet were bare,

which wasnt unusual or a poor maiden, not on air-weather

days when one might attempt to conserve a pair o shoes.What was unusual was the condition o the young womans

eet. The heels, arches, and toes were slick with blood and

dirt. In places, the esh was sliced open.

Susanna pushed her hand against her mouth to stie a gasp.

The stranger rose to her bloody eet, but not without another

cry. She grabbed a low branch to hold hersel upright, but it

broke like dry kindling and she crumpled to the ground again.Susanna hastened to the womans side and knelt next to

her. My dear woman, youre in need o a doctor.

No! Her thin cheeks were streaked with dirt, her bod-

ice ripped in several places, and her hair hung in a loose,

snarled mess beneath her dingy muslin cap. Please dont

call anyone.

Susanna was amiliar with all the poor women who lived

around Weymouth, and she was certain shed never seen

her beore.


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46

Please just let me be on my way, the timid soul begged

Susanna. I promise I wont steal any more apples.

But youre hurt. Susanna studied the womans ace andguessed her to be less than her own nineteen years or at least

close to it.

The strangers gaze darted around the orchard as i she

expected someone to jump out and grab her.

Were alone. Susanna prayed they truly were alone, that

whatever haunted the woman wasnt lurking nearby.

I must go.

I beg you to let me help you.

Youre very kind, miss. But Im not wanting that anyone

should know my whereabouts, you see.

Susanna nodded, but she didnt see. Was this woman

wanted or a crime? Was she a thie? She had, ater all, been

stealing apples rom their orchard.But even as Susanna mulled over the thought, she cast it

aside. There was something too sot and kind in the womans

ace to label her a thie. She was likely taking the apples to

satisy her hunger.

Please, please, dont tell anyone you saw me. Please prom-

ise you wont breathe a word about my being here.

Susanna hesitated. Was she running away rom somethingor someone? Wont you come down to the parsonage and

let me help you?

Oh, I couldnt, miss.

When the woman started to rise again, Susanna touched

her arm. I you wont let me help you, then you can at least

take these.

Susanna began to untie her leather buskins.

Not your boots, miss. Oh, I couldnt. Just couldnt.

But Susanna had already slipped her oot out o one and


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J o d y H d l u n d

was unlacing the other. Im venturing were about the same

size.

A sob broke rom the womans lips, and tears began toslide down her cheeks, making trails through the grime.

Susanna unrolled her silk stockings and slipped them o.

Youll need these also.

Susanna reused to take the boots and stockings back

even when the young woman pushed them at her. Instead

she helped rip strips rom her petticoat, bandaged her cuts

as best she could, then assisted her into the buskins. Shethen relled the strangers apron with apples and watched

her stumble away.

I you need anythinganything at allyou must come

nd me at the parsonage, Susanna called.

Even with boots on, the poor woman could hardly walk,

and Susanna had to ght the urge to run ater her and aid

her urtherbut aid her how?

Susanna started to ollow, but the pricks in the tender skin

o her eet stopped her. She couldnt remember the last time

shed walked outside in bare eet.

She had a vague recollection o having taken o her shoes

once at Grandmother Eves urging, likely because her grand-

mother had bared her own eet. O course, Mother wouldnever have allowed such scandalous behavior.

Susanna peered down at her toes poking out rom the hem

o her petticoats. The long grass tickled her skin, and the

coldness o the damp earth pressed against her soles.

Whatever will I tell Mother now?

rebellious heart

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