Seven #3
She carried his things to her room and pulled a portmanteau from beneath her bed.
The leather case had been a gift from her grandparents for her last birthday.
At the time the gift was given, Lucy had wondered if they wished she would use it to come visit them more often, or if they hoped she would experience memorable adventures.
Regardless of the reason, she was grateful for the gift and the finely crafted case.
She set Theo’s things inside it, then packed her clothes, comb, and hairpins into it.
She added her Bible and the jewelry tools she kept in her desk—in case any repairs were needed while she was at the farm—along with her journal.
“Did you get everything?” Theo asked as he skipped into her room, his bird whistle in hand, although he hadn’t yet added water to it.
“I did, Theo. Remember, Papa said to leave your whistle here,” she said, tapping him on his freckled nose.
“I remember,” he said, then shuffled across the hall to his room and set his whistle on the small table by his bed that held an assortment of his special treasures.
“Come on,” Lucy said, holding out a hand to him. “Grandpapa will surely arrive soon.”
They returned downstairs, and Lucy had just tucked her design journal into her bag when their grandfather arrived.
He came not to the front door of the shop, but the back, quietly tapping on the open door.
“Father!” Cleta exclaimed, clearly pleased to see him. She gave him a hug while tugging him inside the already-warm kitchen.
Theo nearly danced a circle around them, eager to greet their grandfather.
Even though his hair was thinning and turning white, Lucy thought the man with a tall, straight bearing appeared in good health and good spirits as he hugged Cleta again, then swung Theo up into the air as though he weighed no more than a little babe.
“Hi, Grandpapa!” Theo wrapped his arms around John Danvers and gave him a tight hug.
“You’re growing like a sapling on a riverbank, Theodore. It’s grand to set eyes on you,” their grandfather said as he set Theo on his feet, then turned to Lucy. “Lucy, love, you get prettier every time I see you. Is your father having to run off the young men with threats of grave harm?”
Lucy laughed and hugged her grandfather. “Not at all, sir. Your words are most kind, and much appreciated, even if your opinion of me may be overly polished.”
Her grandfather chuckled. “Nonsense.”
“Come, Father,” Cleta said, pulling out a chair at the table. “Sit and have something to eat before you go. Will you stay for dinner?”
“I don’t see why not. We’ll have to leave right after the meal, though. I can wait to eat, but I would sure appreciate a drink to wash away the dust from the road.”
Three hours later, they were on their way to the farm, located a few miles outside of Philadelphia.
Although it wasn’t a far journey, it wasn’t one Lucy’s family often made.
The shop kept them busy, and her grandparents had their own work to attend to.
Once a month during the summer season, John Danvers loaded his big wagon with produce from their huge garden and brought it into town to sell to a stall at the market that purchased goods from various people in the area.
They paid a fair price for the produce, and her grandfather said it was better to let them sell it at a higher profit than him having to sit in the heat and peddle his vegetables all day.
Theo hadn’t stopped talking since they had climbed into the wagon, asking questions and making comments as he sat between Lucy and their grandfather on the high wooden seat.
When John looked over at Lucy and winked, she knew he found as much pleasure in Theo’s endless chatter as she did. The little boy was so excited to spend time at the farm, he could hardly contain his enthusiasm.
Lucy watched her grandmother hurry outside the white two-story house where Cleta had been raised.
She could envision her mother with her brother, David, racing to the house after a day outside helping in the fields, full of teasing and laughter.
Lucy’s uncle David had died five years ago in a tragic wagon accident in town.
His wife and children had died the following winter when they had come down with smallpox. They were all so very much missed.
Unwilling to let grief steal her joy, Lucy set the thoughts aside. Today was about enjoying life and the living.
“Grandmama!” Theo shouted, waving his hand in greeting as they neared the house.
The moment the wagon rolled to a stop, Lucy swung down and gave her grandmother a hug, breathing in the lavender scent she always associated with the woman.
“Oh, gracious! I’m so glad you’re here. Both of you,” Katherine said, stepping back just enough to include Theo in their hug. She removed his hat, ruffled his hair, then kissed his forehead. “You’ve grown so much I hardly recognize you, Theodore. Did the fairies bring you an elixir for growth?”
Theo giggled and shook his head. “No, Grandmama. Papa says sunshine, hard work, and good food are all anyone needs to grow.”
“I agree, only I would add in a dash of faith, a spoonful of hope, and a bucket of prayer.” Katherine cupped Theo’s chin and smiled at him, then slipped an arm around Lucy’s waist. “Come inside. I want to hear all the news from town. Your mother’s last letter mentioned a young man coming around the shop, but she didn’t share his name or any details. I would love to hear more.”
Annoyed her mother had shared anything about Branch with her grandmother, Lucy decided to save that topic of conversation for later. “Mother said you’ve painted inside, Grandmama. I can’t wait to see everything. Did you choose gray, tan, or cream for the hall?”
While Lucy accompanied her grandmother inside, Theo ran back to the wagon and took the basket of treats their mother had sent along while their grandfather retrieved Lucy’s portmanteau.
The following evening, after spending the day exploring the farm and helping in the garden, Lucy cooked apples in a big iron skillet to turn into an apple tansey for dessert while Theo helped their grandfather milk the cows.
She and her grandmother used the outdoor kitchen to prepare the meal. It was wonderful to not have the heat in the house, and Lucy enjoyed being outside in the shade of two big oak trees.
Her grandmother looked over her shoulder from where she shredded a cabbage. “I forgot to mention, our neighbors are joining us for supper.”
“Oh. Which neighbors?” Lucy asked, having met most of them over the years.
“The new couple who live on the farm to the east of us. I guess they aren’t all that new anymore.
They’ve been there about a year, I suppose,” Katherine said, mixing the cabbage with vinegar, oil, and spices.
“Nate and Sarah Dobbins are just the nicest people. Younger, no children, but they work so hard. Sarah’s nephew is here for a brief visit. ”
“Is the nephew Theo’s age?” Lucy asked, thinking it would be wonderful for Theo to have a playmate. Most of the neighbors had been there so long, their children were grown.
Katherine laughed. “No, darling girl. He’s closer to yours.”
Lucy could almost see the ideas whirling in her grandmother’s mind like yarn on a spinning wheel. Whatever matchmaking notions her grandmother entertained, the woman needed to get them right out of her head. Lucy had no time or interest in being courted.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true.
She wouldn’t object, at least not long or loudly, if the intriguing and altogether handsome Branch Barton came to call, but she doubted that would ever come to pass. Especially not when she was convinced he was a Loyalist, just as he had somehow surmised she was completely devoted to the Patriots.
Since the day Lucy had first picked up the locket and met Branch, a feeling for him had taken root in her heart. She couldn’t deny it, even if she refused to speak of it.
What good would come of her affection for a Loyalist?
“You know, Lucy, we never got around to discussing the young man your mother mentioned dropping by the shop on occasion,” her grandmother said, intruding on her thoughts. “Do you think he’ll pay court?”
“No, Grandmama. I don’t think he will. I’m not entirely sure what to think about him.
One day he’s sweet. The next teasing. Then we won’t see him for days at a time, and he never offers a word about where he’s been.
He claims he’s a trade merchant and wanders around the city looking for business opportunities.
I hate to even give voice to the thought, and haven’t to anyone, but I can’t help but consider the truth that he might be a Redcoat spy. ”
“Oh, gracious! Not one of those horrid men in disguise.” Katherine scoffed and turned to study Lucy. “If he turned your head, though, there must be something special about him.”
Lucy shrugged, feigning a disinterest she was far from feeling.
“He’s intelligent. Strong. Amusing. He lures me into debates just for the sake of taking the opposing view.
He’s also quite sweet with Theo. He’s the one who fanned the flames of Theo’s recent fascination with bugs.
He even spent one morning helping Theo weed the garden in search of more creeping and crawling beasties.
Mama and Papa both seem to approve of his presence in our lives. ”
Katherine laughed. “He sounds divine, darling. Is he quite good-looking?”
Lucy felt her cheeks warming and hoped her grandmother attributed the heightened color to the heat involved in creating the apple tansey. “Some might say he is.”
Her grandmother lifted an eyebrow and smirked. “And I can only wager you are among those who would.”
Theo appeared with a basket of eggs, saving Lucy from the need to make any further comment.
As soon as she had finished cooking the apple tansey and flipped it onto a plate for serving, she dashed to the well and filled a bucket with water, then scuttled into the house and up to the room that had once been her mother’s when she was a young girl, but was Lucy’s whenever she visited the farm.
Lucy hastened to remove her clothes that were dirty from a day of hard work, wipe her skin with the refreshingly cool water, then dress in a gown that was clean.
It wasn’t her finest attire, but it was far better than a sweat-soaked chore dress.
Lucy quickly styled her hair that she had simply wadded into a knot at the back of her head that morning to keep it out of her way, then pulled on a clean white linen cap.
As ready as she could be to greet her grandparents’ guests, she carried the bucket of water out and dumped it on a rosebush that looked slightly wilted in the heat before she returned to the outdoor kitchen, where she helped her grandmother finish their meal preparations.
They were just slicing leftover pieces of roast from their dinner to serve along with pieces of cheese when Lucy glanced up to see three people walking toward them from the gate in the east fence her grandfather had shown to her and Theo earlier.
It cut quite a bit of walking time off a visit to their closest neighbors’ place.
Lucy had recalled the names of Nate and Sarah Dobbins from letters her grandmother had written and conversations she had heard at Christmastime when her grandparents had come to visit for a few days, and when she and her family had visited the farm in May for Theo’s birthday.
Fantail hats, with round crowns and a brim that kicked upward in the back, shaded the faces of the two men, but Sarah Dobbins wore a cap that framed her friendly face and wide smile. She waved the hand that wasn’t carrying a basket, and Katherine returned the greeting.
The couple appeared youthful as they made their way toward the house. The man who walked with one hand around Sarah’s waist was likely Nate. The fellow behind him was taller and broader. Something about him, about the way he moved, seemed familiar.
Lucy swallowed a gasp and nearly choked on it when she realized the man with Mr. and Mrs. Dobbins was none other than Branch Barton.
“Oh, my stars above!” she muttered, and felt a desperate urge to sink onto the nearest chair.
“It’s Branch, Lucy!” Theo chanted, yanking on her hand. “It’s Branch!”
“Yes, it certainly is.” Lucy forced the words out of her suddenly dry mouth as Theo released her hand and raced toward their guests.
Branch, who’d been gazing at the herd of Red Devon cattle grazing on the pasture grass, turned at Theo’s shouts of welcome.
Lucy watched with her heart in her throat when Branch bent and scooped Theo onto one arm and shifted him to sit on his shoulder. Theo took the hat from Branch’s head and settled it on his own, making Nate and Sarah laugh.
Apparently, Branch made introductions, because by the time they all arrived at the table in the shade where the food had been set out, Theo was referring to the couple by their Christian names.
“I see you’ve met Theo,” Katherine said with a grin. “Might I assume, Branch Barton, that you are also familiar with my granddaughter?”
Branch swung Theo down and set him on his feet, then bowed politely to both Katherine and John before he tossed Lucy a sly wink.
“As a matter of fact, we have met.” He glanced to Sarah and Nate, then back at Katherine.
“Auntie Sarah told me your grandchildren were visiting, but I assumed, quite wrongly, they were both the age of Theo. No names were given, or I would have known straight away that your visiting relations were none other than my friends from High Street. I certainly didn’t expect the privilege of sharing dinner with the two Carlson siblings. ”
“We are so delighted you could join us, Branch. I didn’t realize you were acquainted with Lucy or Theo,” Katherine said, placing her hand on Branch’s arm and guiding him to the table. “I also didn’t realize you’d been in Philadelphia. I believe the last time we saw you, you were in New York.”
“That’s right, ma’am.” Branch spoke to Katherine, but his gaze settled on Lucy. He looked as taken by surprise as she felt.
Branch Barton’s presence at her grandparents’ farm left her with no idea of what to make of it.