Twelve
“I have a gift for you, my beloved,” Branch said, holding out a black leather box that easily fit on his palm. It was a jewelry box, but not of a style she or her father made.
“What is it, Branch?” she asked, lifting the box and looking at him.
“A little something from our friend Patsy.”
“Oh my!” Lucy was aware Mrs. Washington had left Philadelphia and hadn’t expected to hear from her again. To know the woman had sent her something for her wedding made Lucy’s heart warm.
She and Branch had wed in the small church not far from his farm that morning. They had enjoyed a wonderful meal prepared by Sarah and Lucy’s grandmother, eaten in the garden at her grandparents’ farm.
Now, she and Branch were about to leave for a meeting with his commanding officer.
The man had sent word he wanted to meet with Branch in person to discuss an important matter, so they were both going.
It would be a brief trip, they thought, but Lucy looked forward to the time spent with her husband.
When she had first met Branch, the idea that love would so quickly take hold of her heart or that she would fall so completely and deeply in love with him seemed as far off as the stars in the sky.
She sent up a prayer of gratitude that they had met, then ran her finger along the narrow leaf pattern of gold that edged the seam of the box. It was beautifully and skillfully made.
When she opened the lid, resting on a bed of cream velvet, was the locket that had brought them together. Lucy smiled as she lifted it and noticed a slit in the lining. She handed Branch the locket, then stuck her fingers into the slit, retrieving a note written on a piece of folded parchment.
My Dearest Girl,
This locket would not exist but for my beloved. He entreated a trusted friend to fashion it for me, yet it is far more than a common ornament. It was born of love, wrought in silver, and shaped by steadfast devotion.
As you have now discovered, to awaken its wonder one need only place the locket upon her heart, and love shall surely find its way to you, thus fulfilling the locket’s true and intended purpose.
Love, like liberty, thrives when freely bestowed. When the time comes that you no longer have need of its guidance, pass the locket from one hopeful heart to another, that its promise may endure.
May your days be filled with the joy that springs from choosing love above all else.
And never forget that love, freely given, is the truest liberty we may ever know.
Ever yours,
Martha Washington
“What a lovely note,” Lucy said, handing it to Branch to read as she took the locket from him and opened the back.
It bore no secret coded message, so she closed it and held it to her heart, realizing how true Martha’s words were.
She couldn’t explain it, but she knew the locket had played a part in bringing Branch into her life.
“You should add to Martha’s note and leave it in the case.
As it travels from one heart to the next, it will be a way for others to know how very special this locket is.
” Branch smoothed the parchment on the desk in Lucy’s bedroom at her grandparents’ home.
They had come to the room to gather Lucy’s things so they could depart, but one kiss had led to a dozen, and they had to leave soon if they wanted to reach the inn where they planned to stay before dark settled around them.
“I’ll add the note, then we had best be on our way.”
Branch pulled out the chair at the desk, and Lucy took a seat. She dipped her quill in the inkwell and added a note, grateful she could take the locket with her. Lucy had a feeling she would soon pass it to another in need of love.
Over her shoulder, Branch read aloud the words she had written.
When all those around us were pressed to choose their allegiance, Branch and I chose one another and learned that love, like liberty, must be claimed with courage, and defended with devotion.
Lucy Carlson and Branch Barton
Philadelphia, August 28, 1776
“That’s perfect, Luce,” he said, drawing her to her feet when she had blown on the note to dry the ink before returning the folded parchment to the case along with the locket. “You are full of courage and kindness, and I greatly look forward to our life together.”
Lucy smiled and slid her hands up his arms and around the back of his neck, drawing herself closer to him. “A life lived together for liberty and love.”
“Always …” He cupped her chin and kissed her tenderly. “For liberty and love.”
Keep reading for a preview from
Freeing Miss Abagail,
the next book in this series!
And don’t miss Declaration of Love,
the story of Kate Barton—Lucy and Branch’s descendant!