You can add your comments/suggestions on this work at the bottom of this page…

Chapter Fifteen –

Early May… 1679

By early May life at the cottage took on its own rhythm. The days dawned cool but quickly warmed. Each morning, after a bowl of porridge and a cup of cider, John would gather his rod and nets and walk either to the kettle pond or the shore, depending on the tides. When she was not off attending to one of her patients, Rebekah’s time was spent in the garden. They would be a family of three come fall and she wanted to be well prepared.

On any day of the week, save the Sabbath, Rebekah could be found either digging, weeding or planting in the ground she claimed as her own. She uncovered many rocks and small boulders. One evening after supper she asked John if he would build a wall with the granite stones. He agreed, but gave her a warning.
“The wall will nay keep the rabbits from overrunning your patch, but at the least it should help you see the edges of each garden enough to separate the medicinals from your flowers.”
“I know where the edges are, John but marking the space will make things look a bit neat and tidy.”
“And that you find helpful?”
“I think it will give a proper sense to things, and for the few visitors who come by, they will look and see and believe I take my healing work all that more serious for the formality of my garden.”
John studied his wife and wondered. The two sat on the short bench in front of the hearth, sharing a quiet moment. “I know how serious you are about your healing work, Bekah. You do not need the edge on a garden patch to display that to your patients. All anyone need do is enter the shed and see your display of dried flowers and plantings. You have so many hanging from the rafters it is impossible to walk from one side wall to the other.”
“I know it is crowded in the shed. But now it is finally spring, most of the blossoms have dried and are ready to be made into tinctures. You should have your shed back soon enough.”
“And what of our cottage?” John asked, looking around the great room.
“What do you mean?”
“Do not take what I say as a complaint. I know how very busy you are. Every day you are out and about with your women patients, or in the garden, digging in the dirt, and planting for our future. But I must tell you, dearest, the cottage is looking mighty grim.”
Rebekah studied the room around her and she had to agree. It had been easy to overlook the cobwebs in the dusk of a winter’s eve, but now, as daylight lingered longer into the evening hour, she could hardly miss seeing the thin threads of spiderwebbing that stretched across the ceiling beams and threatened to drape across the top of the wall cabinet. As she looked towards the hearth, firelight revealed a long track of dirt left from muddy boots on the wood floor.
“I am sorry, husband. My work has taken my mind off our home. Things are not as I intended.” Sensing he was let down by her negligence, she felt tears well up behind her eyes and a blush rise in her cheeks.
John could see his wife was upset. “It is of no importance to me, Bekah, but I think you take on too much as your burden. I know without the help of my friend, Jasper, I would never catch so many fish as I have this season. When you need help with your work, or with the household chores, you should ask for it.”
“And you would be happy to push a broom?” she asked, her voice filled with challenge.
“That would not be seemly,” he countered. “Pushing a broom is best done by women.”
“Then what do you suggest I do?” Her voice ticked up a notch. “It is clear you are not content with my housekeeping, or my gardening. And my cooking? I know it is not my best.”
“It is good enough for me, Bekah. I did not speak to upset you.”
“Then why? There are not enough hours in the day for the tasks I find myself facing now. What must I do to improve?”
John reached out and took Rebekah’s hand. “Though I know you to be capable of managing on your own, I think you are in need of help.”
Surprised at his remark, she pulled her hand back. “Impossible. We cannot afford such an expense.”
“I do not mean to hire someone.”
“Then how manage such a thing?” she asked. “People do not work for nothing.”
“But they do work for knowledge and a roof overhead.”
“I don’t understand, John.”
“The last time I was in the village, I met with a Captain Crocker, a privateer who has only just arrived from Boston. He is setting up an office and looking for good sailors to sign on for his next voyage.
“You’re not thinking of joining him?” Rebekah asked.
“Of course not. I have both you and a new babe on the way. Besides, I am not one for the high seas. I am a fisherman, not a whaler.
“I am glad of it.” Rebekah took his hand and held it to her chest. “I could not bare to have you gone away to sea for months or years.”
“Crocker told me of the new man he has taken on as an apprentice. He is newly married and is looking for a similar position for his wife. And I thought of you.”
“To do what, John?”
“Teach the woman, Bekah. Take her on as a midwife helper, or whatever it is you call such a person. She could be your companion and learn midwifery. She would travel with you when you meet with your patients. But if that is not your greatest need, I am certain there are plenty of young women in the village who would be glad to work in the garden or help prepare your herbs and medicinals, all in trade for your knowledge about such things. Did you not learn yourself in such a way?”
Rebekah thought of her own teacher, Mistress Pritchett. Mentor, teacher and friend, Philippa Whitworth had shaped Rebekah’s skill and determination to serve the health needs of women and their families.
“When do you next go to the village?” she asked.
“Two days hence. My fishing spear was in need of repair and I left it at the blacksmith’s. Armstrong promised it would take no longer than a day or two to set it right. If you like, I can seek out the Captain and perhaps speak with his new man. I will tell him you are eager to speak with his wife.”
“Not eager, John. But willing. If she might be interested in the healing arts, perhaps we could come to some arrangement.”
“And if not this man’s wife, there may be another who would be willing. Just so you have help with your work. That is my main concern.”
Rebekah sat quietly before the fire and considered her husband’s suggestion. Perhaps it was time she took on her own apprentice. Her midwifery practice continued to grow, and with a new babe on the way, another set of hands would be a great help for her.
“I will accompany you on your next trip to the village and speak for myself. I would like to meet this Captain Chapman you hold in such regard.”
John agreed. “He reminds me of my brother Joshua. Very confident and sure of himself. I think you will like him.”