I smiled and gave Lewis a hug and then we walked into the house and joined the others.
Saying goodbye hurt more than I could imagine, but Father would help my family and friends grieve. And someday, we would all be reunited again.
Goodbye wouldn’t last forever.
31
SEPTEMBER 2, 1727
BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS
I had not imagined that my birthday would also be my wedding day. As I walked up the steps of Christ Church, not far from Boston Harbor, my heart skipped a beat. If all had gone as planned, Maxwell would be waiting for me at the front of the church.
It had been a whirlwind of a day. My heart grieved everything I’d lost in 1927, but the reality of it hadn’t quite hit me yet. We’d woken up in Hope and Isaac’s home that morning, and Maxwell had told me that he was going to Boston to acquire special permission from the governor to be married without reading the required banns. He asked the Abbotts if they could take me to Christ Church at six o’clock that evening, and, if the governor agreed, we’d be married.
Hope had been a great comfort to me as I shared my grief with her. She offered me her love and promised to help me carry the pain. It alleviated my fears to know that she had gone through the same thing and had no regrets. She missed everything she’d forfeited, but God had strengthened her, as He was strengthening me.
I looked up at the brick building with the beautiful white steeple and for the first time in my life, I felt close to God. Knowing that Iwasn’t the only one with this gift, and that others had gone before me, had eased my troubled heart. I saw the hand of God in my life and knew, with certainty, that He had brought me to this time and place. My life hadn’t been a curse, but a blessing, one I wanted to share with the people I loved.
Christ Church was only a few years old, and the Abbotts told me it had become a place for the new residents of Boston to find community. Hope whispered that it would one day become known as Old North Church and would be instrumental in the American War for Independence.
“Two lanterns will be hung in the steeple the night the British arrive,” Hope said quietly about a future event. One I was familiar with from my 1927 path. “Paul Revere and the others will know to ride toward Lexington and Concord to alert the militia that the British are coming by sea.”
“’Tis strange that the American Revolution is still fifty years away,” I said just as quietly, though Isaac seemed aware of many things his wife had told him.
“’Tis strange, indeed,” Hope said. “But there’s something else you must know about your gift, Caroline. You must never knowingly change history. If you do, you will forfeit the path you try to change.”
I paused as I stood on the steps of the church that would one day become famous around the world. I would heed her words carefully.
The large white door creaked as Isaac opened it. Evening had started to set, and the interior of the beautiful church was dim. White pew boxes dominated the main floor, and a gallery encircled the space overhead.
After Maxwell had left that morning, I bathed and dressed in the beautiful gown he had purchased for me; then I had gone with Hope and Isaac to meet some of the family who lived in Salem. It had been hard to wait, and harder still knowing I would not wake up in 1927 tomorrow, but the anticipation of becoming Maxwell’s bride had fortified my spirits.
Now, as I entered the church, a new anxiety overtook me, and I was tempted to fidget. Instead, I took a deep breath to settle my nerves, and the urge to fidget subsided.
The certainty I felt that this was the right choice, and that Maxwell would honor me every day of my life, washed over me like a wave.
“May I?” Isaac asked as he offered his arm to me.
I accepted it, and we started down the aisle with Hope ahead of us.
Two men entered the nave. One was wearing clerical robes, and the other was Maxwell.
My heart sped at the sight of him, and when our gazes met, his smile was so brilliant, I couldn’t look away.
The rector and Maxwell waited for us near the chancel. Hope greeted them and then stepped aside so Issac could deliver me to my groom.
I had no flowers, no wedding veil, and no maid of honor to attend me. But I had Maxwell, and that was all I needed.
The ceremony was quick yet heartfelt as I pledged my life to Maxwell’s. It was more of a civil ceremony than a religious one, as was the custom in Massachusetts, but I was thankful Maxwell had asked me to marry him in a church. I wished Father and Mother could be there, though it pleased me that they knew who I was marrying and that Father had given his blessing.
When the ceremony came to an end, Maxwell smiled at me and said, “’Tis done, Mistress MacDougal.”
“Nay,” I said as I stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “’Tis just begun.”
The Abbotts were staying with one of their seven children in Boston. After we walked outside, they said farewell and made us promise to visit soon.
As soon as they moved out of sight, I turned to my husband and said, “And where will we spend our wedding night?”
