The woman placed a hand over Beti’s. “Yer welcome. And do not ye worry. Ye have friends here. I must be going. Natty gets in a terrible fret if he loses sight of me for too long.” The soft smile on her face told Beti that her husband’s concern was appreciated. Someday she hoped she’d have a husband of her own who would worry if she disappeared.
Before long the bustle of the wagons filled the air alongside the calling of the ferryman.
Beti sipped her coffee and whistled for Nellie to round up the sheep.
“I would be willing to help should ye need it today.” Zeke stood next to his team.
“Are ye sure? After yesterday I would have thought ye’d had enough of Silas.”
“So that’s his name, eh?”
“Aye, I plan on keeping him around.”
“The others have names too?”
“Only God knows.”
He chuckled, and the day broke into full sun. Her heart quickened, and she wished he would laugh again.
“I like the idea that God knows their names.”
“I figure if he knows the sparrows they must have names, and He knows them.”
“So it’s not ‘sparrow 1’, sparrow 2’?” His eyes twinkled as he toyed with the idea.
“I never thought so.”
“I think ye must be right, Miss Beti.”
The air between them sparked, and Beti felt drawn to him as though a ferry-line pulled her. He cleared his throat.
“Would ye care for coffee? I’ve a mite left,” she offered.
“Aye.” He produced his cup so quickly she thought he might have been headed to get some from Aggie.
Navigation of the Elizabeth River proved to be easier than Beti had planned. By the time she rejoined the wagon train it was time to stop for the night. She sat down next to her fire that evening more rested than she’d been since they started. Once again, her friends joined her. Beti felt comfortable enough to pull out her knitting pins. One never had enough stockings, and the fiber she’d purchased from Mr. Morgan had been calling her since the day she’d tucked into her basket. It was a fine pink wool that should help keep her warm this winter. She liked the contrast of the pale ice pink with the cool brown tone of her traveling gown.
The banter playing out between the men and sometimes Aggie helped Beti settle into a comfortable peace that was only disturbed by the occasional glance sent her way by Zeke.
They reached Smith’s Ordinary near Somerton midday of the third day. The weather remained dry and the road passable. Silas and his brood munched as they went and appeared none the worse for wear. Nellie also seemed to benefit from the exercise.
“Miss Beti?” Mose loped to a stop just behind Zeke’s wagon.
Beti looked up into his mild blue eyes. Blonde fiber stuck out wildly from under his hat. He was tall for such a young man, at least as tall as Zeke though nowhere near as nice to look at.
“Captain Taylor says he thinks this might be a good place to rest a bit. We are to take a wash day and get back moving day after tomorrow. If that will suit ye?”
“Tell the Captain that it suits me very well.” She gave him a smile as much from relief as anything else. A wash day! Her mind raced at the thought. And they were at an ordinary. A pen for her sheep.
She raced to the tavern yard to arrange for the penning.
A couple she did not recognize stood in the yard with a man in an apron taking in the wagon train and all its bustle.
The three turned toward her as she approached. At once she was surprised at the gentleness of the woman. A purity glowed from her countenance that made Beti want to clean up, and not just her dress but her whole wagon.
“Good day.” The woman did a little curtsy, and Beti felt like buffalo.
“Good day.” Beti executed her own clumsy bow.
“My name is Alice Swift.” She offered her hand. “My brother and I are here to visit the Friends.”
“Ye know ’em as Quakers,” the man in the apron said.
“I am pleased to know ye,” Beti answered. She’d heard of Quakers, but since they were outlawed along with any other group that was not of the Church of England, she’d never run into one. “Behethlan Sigridsdatter.” This name was not exactly a lie. She was the daughter of Sigrid Boatman. In the land where her mother’s people came from it was the custom to call people this way, but the half truth ruffled her peace even more when talking to this woman. She shined with innocence and a purity that made Beti want to scrub her soul.
“It is a lovely church there at Behethlan. Sounds as though the Lord is at work in yer life.”
Beti kept her mouth from dropping to her chest. “Ye know it?”
“Aye. We passed through there when I was a girl. I do not remember much about it, but I should be happy to tell ye what I remember some time.”
One of the men next to her kept eyes on the activity around them, never stepping far from the woman. As if she could hear his thoughts Alice turned and with a hand open toward him said, “This is my brother, Thomas. He is escorting me on this journey to share the gospel.”
Thomas focused hazel eyes on her. The friendliness in his open countenance warmed her as much as his sister startled her. “Pleased to meet ye, Ma’am.” It closed back up when he cast his eyes on his sister.
“It appears we have passed by the Friends Meeting House and must now make our way back again,” Alice explained with a giggle. “Thomas is a bit put out, but we will set it right. Who knows why God had us miss our destination, but then I have always found that it comes out right in the end. Do ye also? For all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.”
