Chapter Eleven

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Dillard, A Cold Winter – January, 1679

No matter how many times or how carefully John patched the interior walls of the cottage, cold winter air found its way in through the cracks, chilling the young couple to the bone. During the endless grey days of that long winter after their joining, there were only two places where John or Rebekah could find warmth inside the cottage: sitting or standing directly in front of the hearth, or tucked safely under the covers in the loft bed, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. The earthy scent of Rebekah’s herbs drying in the rafters above them and the perpetual odor of wet woolen gloves hung by the fire to dry, afforded the lovers some small measure of comfort. As long as the wood held out, they were safe from freezing to death.
When the storms raged outside, and they raged often during their first winter together, neither traveled further than across the back yard to the shed to collect stores, feed the chickens, or care for their one horse, Pacer. Dillard Bay froze solid by mid January and deep water fishing off shore required equipment John could not afford. He turned to the nearby ponds for his daily catch.
“It has always been a mystery to me, John. Where do the fish go at this time of year?” Rebekah asked one night while they ate their evening meal of potato stew. “Do fish migrate to warmer climes or stay here and die from the cold?”
John laughed. “How is it you have lived near the ocean all these years and do not know?”
“You may find me ignorant, husband, and I would agree. When it comes to the way and how of fishing, these things have never been of interest to me. I know the land, the ground, the trees, the forests, but I leave it to you to know the sea. And as you are the first fisherman I have ever married, you must unravel the mystery for me.”
“There is little mystery to uncover. Fish follow the warm water and travel south to find it at this time of year. But the freshwater ponds nearby are still full of bass. Enough to catch and keep us fed or sell in the village if needs be. I hear trout has been caught in the mill pond by King’s Highway. I will try my skills before the week is out.” He ripped off a large fistful of bread from the loaf Rebekah had baked that morning.
“If ever we are short of coin, Rebekah, we could sell your bread in the market. It is far better than the bread any goodwife from the village might serve up.”
“I am glad you think so, John. But I am far too busy with keeping us warm and well fed and visiting the women on my circuit to think of spending time selling bread.”
“It has been very quiet amongst the women you visit. You have not been out and about for nearly a fortnight.”
“Do not be too quick to judge my time. Slow days like these do not last long. Women and their babes have their own timetable and are certain to progress to their rightful awakening when the time is right, no matter how close I prepare. As it is, I must ride out to meet with Goodie Steward before the end of this week to see how she fares. I am fairly certain she is near to the end of her term and I wager twins are most likely to be the result when she finally delivers.”
“How is it you can be certain of such a thing?” John asked.
“There are signs. She has grown in size and tenderness and has struggled mightily with morning sickness since early days. She has kept to her bed these last two months as she has so little energy.”
“Does she have anyone to help her?”
“Goodie Steward is most fortunate. Her husband has four children from his first wife and knows what must be done. And her sister is not far away. They promise to send for me when her time is close, but I must not wait too long for their signal.”
“And you will go?”
“Of course. It is my duty to minister to these women and their newborns.”
The next morning as the sun was near to rising, Goodie Steward’s oldest, Asa, found his way through the snow to their front gate.
“She is in a bad way, Mistress Howland. Her cries of pain started near unto midnight and follow me still to this very door. Father thought it too soon to call you, but Mother bid me hurry and bring you back. She said to let you know, she is in need of your attentions and you should not tarry.”
Rebekah looked into the cold light of an early winter morning. The sky was cast in shades of grey, the warmth of any sunlight had yet to penetrate the frigid morning air.
“Did you walk all this way, Asa?” The child nodded. “You best come in, and gather some heat in your bones for the journey back. And you should call me Mistress Rand from now on. I am married now and have taken a new name.”
“Yes Miss Rand.”
Quickly calculating what she would need to take, she turned to her husband for help. “If you will saddle Pacer for me, John, I will dress and meet you and Asa at the shed. The horse is strong enough to carry us both the few miles we must travel.”
Rebekah quickly dressed in several layers of petticoats to ward off the cold, draped her thickest cloak over her shoulders and secured the special basket filled with her most potent herbs and medicinals she always kept at the ready. By the time John had saddled Pacer, she was waiting outside the stable door.
“Do you have everything you need, Bekah?” he asked.
“I should be fine. And if needs be, young Asa can return and fetch it for me.” She turned to the young man. “Are you ready to help welcome your new brother or sister into this world?”
Asa nodded. “I hope for a brother who will play with me.”
“Or a sister,” Rebekah encouraged him.
Asa made a face. “I already have too many sisters. A brother is better. He will be my friend.”
John put his arm around Asa’s shoulder. “Be thankful whichever the good Lord chooses to send, Asa. Girls can be friends too.” He gave Rebekah a nod and a knowing smile.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Asa will carry my basket. Can you help me mount the beast?”
“I thought you liked Pacer?”
“He’s a fine animal and I find him better than my walking through snow and swamps. Still I am a bit nervous.”
John laughed. “Woman, you are a mystery to me. You attend to women giving birth without any fear, but you tremble at riding an old horse like Pacer for a few miles through the woods.”
He turned and helped his wife fix her feet in the stirrups and take her seat in the saddle then helped Asa sit in the space just behind. Rebekah spread her skirts across the back of the horse, making certain her legs were modestly covered. As they turned towards the gate, John gave Pacer a friendly slap to get him moving in the right direction. Asa and Rebekah, together on horseback, headed for the main road and the Steward homestead.

. . .