Her Captain's Heart by Lyn Cote Read Free Book Online Page A

this is my father-in-law, Joseph Hardy.”
    Hannah introduced Verity and her family to Elijah. “Sister Verity, we’re glad to have you and your family. Welcome,” he said.
    â€œI ain’t glad,” declared a large woman wearing a patterned indigo kerchief over her hair. “Do the Ransfords know this Ritter boy back in town? And what a white woman and her folks doin’ comin’ here? I want to know if she with the Freedman’s Bureau. And when we going to get our land? That’s the only reason I stayed in this place—to get what’s due me.”
    â€œI told you they was Quakers and abolitionists afore the war.” Hannah propped her hands on her ample hips. “And why shouldn’t the Ritter boy come home?”
    Come home. Matt was undone. Blinking away tears, he stared up into the gray clouds flying in from the northeast.
    The woman with the indigo kerchief demanded, “Are they are our side or master side?”
    â€œWe are on God’s side, I hope,” Verity said. “I wish thee will all go on with thy singing, Elijah.”
    Matt glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Thank you. Hannah urged the widow and her family to take seats on the large downed log in the shade. Matt hung back, leaning against an elm. The brim of the widow’s bonnet flapped in the wind, giving him glimpses of her long, golden-brown lashes against her fair cheek.
    Soon, the congregation was singing and clapping to “O Mary.”
,!
    â€œO Mary, don’t you weep, don’t you mourn
    O Mary, don’t you weep, don’t you mourn,
    Pharaoh’s army got drowned.”
    Matt wondered if, in their minds, Pharaoh’s army was the Army of the Confederacy. It had gone down in defeat like Pharaoh’s army. But it hadn’t been an easy defeat. Why was it that he could stand here in the sun listening to beautiful singing and yet still be on the battlefield, with cannons blasting him to deafness? Why wouldn’t his mind just let go of the war?
,!
    â€œO Mary, don’t you weep
    Some of these mornings bright and fair
    Take my wings and cleave the air
    Pharaoh’s army got drowned.
    O Mary, don’t you weep.
    When I get to heaven goin’ to sing and shout
    Nobody there for to turn me out.”
    The little girl was singing and clapping with the gathering. Her mother sat quiet and ladylike, her gloved hands folded in her lap. Her serenity soothed something in Matt. He tried not to stare, but drew his gaze away with difficulty.
    He repeated the words of the song in his mind. Some of these mornings bright and fair, Take my wings and cleave the air.
    Though his heavy burden of memories tried to drag him down, he fought to focus on the present. The work his parents had begun must be completed. The laws of the land must be the same for white and black. He must not lose sight of that.
    The widow glanced over her shoulder at him. How long could he hold back from telling her the story of his family and Fiddlers Grove? The simple answer was that he could not ignore Dace—not just because Dace was his only cousin, but also because Dace had the power to sway others. The Ransfords had run this town for over a hundred years. Matt came to a decision. He’d have to talk to Dace. There was always an outside chance that Dace wouldn’t be hostile to the school, wasn’t there?
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    After the evening meal, Matt trudged through the wild wind into the white frame church with Verity and her family. The church sat at the end of the town’s main street. It was surrounded by oaks, elms and maples and was much larger than St. John’s. The wind tugged at Matt’s hat. A storm was certain. Matt looked forward to it, hoping for relief from the stifling, un-seasonal heat of the past few days.
    On the other hand, Matt dreaded walking into this church. Most of its members had been vocal enemies of his parents. And Matt wondered which of them had been