“Nay.”
“Then you need to tell her.” His father bent to join the chair seat to the frame. “It will do you both good. In hindsight, I didn’t tell your mother near enough.”
With that, he left to see to the horses, leaving Rhys alone. Leg aching, he took a stool by the hearth to continue his work. Long minutes passed, and he heard Bronwyn calling the cows for the evening milking. Dusk gathered at the windows, reminding him supper would be waiting. He stood, preparing for the long, slow journey uphill, his father’s words accompanying him.
He hadn’t told Mae he loved her since their wedding day. Whenhad he decided it didn’t need repeating? Mayhap it needed saying now most of all.
Mae cleared the supper dishes, waiting for Rhys to cross the hall and go into the parlor like usual. She usually joined him afterward. Sometimes he read to her by candlelight or they’d discuss something printed in the newspapers. Neither of them had mentioned Coralie again. They steered around anything personal, even the baby, and held each other at arm’s length, a distance that tore her heart in two. But what was she to do? Was he waiting for her to reach out to him first?
Finished washing dishes, she carried a lit taper to the parlor, remembering the letter from home in her pocket.Home.Would she ever stop thinking of Chatham as home? Home was here. With Rhys and their coming child, despite a tangle of heartaches and setbacks.
He sat in one of the twin Windsor chairs fronting the hearth. He’d once jested that while their backsides were ice, their fronts were aflame. Tonight he had no book or newspaper in hand. Lately he’d kept up with war news less, perhaps because the army was in winter quarters and fighting had ceased.
“’Tis a momentous time,” she said, “the day Congress has proclaimed we should stop and give thanks to God for blessing our nation and troops in their quest for independence and peace.”
“I’m feeling far more grateful here at home than far afield,” he murmured, reaching for his pipe.
Sitting down in the empty chair beside him, she took the letter from her pocket. “Hanna wrote us a letter.”
He nodded and lit his pipe as she began to read aloud.
Dear Sister and Brother-in-Law,
We are overjoyed to announce the arrival of Claire and James...
Twins?Mae stopped reading and Rhys raised an eyebrow.
“I mayn’t have mentioned there are twins on Mother’s side of the family,” she said, thankful all was well. The pronounced flutter inside her and her increased girth challenged her to consider two Harlows. “I’m glad they’ve named him James, and Claire is especially pretty.”
...born 26th October. They joined us around midnight during a full moon and have turned our home upside down with happiness.
Their safe, healthy arrival tempers the loss of James somewhat. We have heard from Jon and they are rebuilding. What matters most is that they’re all together and Joanna and the children are well.
Your letter telling of your coming through the wilderness seems a womanly version of Robinson Crusoe or Gulliver’s Travels. We thank God still that you and Lucy are all right. We pray daily that General Harlow’s return to health is swift and he is on his feet again. For pain relief, Aaron advises an infusion of willow bark or Valerian root. Ample rest is essential.
Perhaps once the twins are older, we can venture south to your new home. We are counting the days till spring and your confinement. You never know the wonder and joy a child brings till you experience the miracle yourself.
We have moved into Father and Mother’s house and let our apprentice live at the apothecary shop. Mrs. Hurst sends her regards to you both. She seems quite content to be with us now as she gets on in years and needs a remedy or two. She says the children will keep her young.
Jon has told us of seeing Coralie from a distance at the New York surrender. We are sad that she has chosen to side with the British and is now a prisoner of war. We are even more grieved that her loyalties returned her to LieutenantGibbs and somehow influenced his heinous actions at the last, including his own death.
Mae paused, wishing she’d kept that part from Rhys. He sat stoic, still smoking, as she continued.
Please write as soon as you are able. The Shenandoah Valley sounds lovely, and we are comforted knowing you may be far from Chatham but are surrounded by loving family there. Again, give General Harlow our best. We pray for you and yours daily.
Your ever loving,
Hanna
Mae folded the letter back up and put it in her pocket. Somehow it assuaged her the Chatham house didn’t sit empty and was near enough to the apothecary that Aaron wouldn’t have far to walk.
“Do you miss home?” Rhys asked, drawing on his pipe.
“Only family and the apothecary, even the scent of it.”
“We could go visit, in time.”
“I’d rather they come to Virginia.” She took up her knitting. “Since it was so hard getting here, I’m in no hurry to leave.”
