Chapter Twenty-Six
Mid-Winter, 1680
Rebekah looked about the room. “Before I teach you anything, Emma, we need to make this room presentable. I cannot work in such chaos. The floor could use a good sweep, and we need to draw more water from the well. The bucket is nearly empty.”
“You are fortunate to have a well with decent drinking water.”
“Most fortunate.” Rebekah answered. “All thanks to the generosity of Simon Dillard.”
Emma looked puzzled.
“A few years ago, Simon Dillard gave me this land in thanksgiving for saving his wife during a very difficult delivery. At that time, as now, Dillard owned a great parcel of land. His gift was small for him—more of a token “thank you” than anything else. But it was a very valuable gift for me, who had nothing but my skill and my wits.”
“But you are a woman. I did not know women could own land.”
“They can and I do.”
Emma took a moment to take in this new information. “So your husband did not own the land?”
“John had nothing to do with it. The land was a direct gift from Simon Dillard to me and I have the documents to prove it. If anything should happen to me, the land passes to my son, Ezra.”
“I did not know such an arrangement was possible.”
“I agree it is unusual, Emma, but there it is. And now, I think it best if you and I get to work.” Rebekah handed a broom to Emma, picked up the water bucket, and headed out towards the garden well.
The two women worked until near dusk preparing a variety of medicinals Rebekah might need in the coming days. Emma was just putting on her cloak and getting ready to leave when there was a knock at the cottage door.
“I’ll answer that,” Emma said. She opened the door and stood back, surprised to see Captain Chapman standing there.
“Captain Chapman!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
The Captain looked from Emma to Rebekah, his face reflecting his surprise at finding Emma behind the cottage door.
“I might ask you the same question. I have come to offer my condolences to Mistress Rand on the recent death of her husband.”
He stood and waited for some response. Emma stepped back into the room and turned to Rebekah. “It is Captain Chapman, come to see you, Mistress.”
Rebekah studied the visitor, recognizing him from their meeting months earlier at the Hyannis Port docks. He looked much the same, tall, elegant, and dressed in a coat of embossed wool. Seeing him again brought back the same uneasy feeling that Rebekah somehow knew the man. But she did not know how or when.
“Captain…” her voice drifted off as she was not clear what next to say.
“Mistress. Rand, I have only just returned to the village after a long sea voyage and heard of your loss. It is a tragedy for both you and your family.”
“It is kind of you to visit, sir. Please come in out of the cold.” She stepped back into the center of the room and gestured towards the short bench near the fire.
“Thank you but I cannot stay. I simply wanted to extend my deepest sympathy to you and offer any assistance you might need during this difficult time.”
“That is most generous, Captain.”
“I knew your husband and considered him a friend. He was ambitious with many grand ideas for his future. His loss must weigh heavily upon you.”
Chapman, paused, waiting for Rebekah to respond. When she did not, he continued. “If there is anything I can do to ease your burden…”
She let his question hang in the air, unanswered.
“…do not hesitate to ask. These first few months after his loss will surely be troubling for you, I am sure. Once you are back on an even keel, please visit me in Hyannis Port. I am bound to be there through the coming summer and would be most happy to assist you in any way.”
Rebekah nodded, but said nothing and made no commitment in answer to his offer. “What was he really offering?” she wondered. As an independent woman on her own, without the usual masculine support of husband or father, she was instantly wary. “No one offers help without wanting something in return,” she thought.
“Is there anything you need immediately? Have you enough food and fuel for these cold days?” he asked.
“My neighbors have been most generous, Captain, and my husband had laid in barrels of fish and pork for the winter. It will suffice, and thank you for your kindness.”
Content at having communicated his concern and sympathy, Captain Chapman turned to leave when he spotted the cradle near the hearth.
“You have a child?” he asked.
Rebekah nodded. “A son, born last summer.”
“May I?” the Captain asked, gesturing towards the cradle. He did not wait for an answer but took a step closer and leaned over the sleeping child.
“He looks to be a handsome boy, Mistress. You must be proud.” He paused, reflecting on the moment, then continued. “It can be a challenge for a son to grow up without a father. I know, because that was my situation. I do not pretend to know what the future may hold for you or your son, but know this. Be assured you have a friend here, willing to help in whatever way I can.”
He reached out and took Rebekah’s hand. “Your husband was a good man and friend to me. I owe his son no less than the best I can offer. I trust you will not forget that.”