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

responsible for that final night that had sent his family north. His gut clenched. He reminded himself that that was all past and his side had won the war. Not theirs.
    Again they entered during the opening hymn. They elicited glances, some surreptitious and some blatant. Toward the front, Mary and her son, Alec, sat with her father, Jed McKay, who looked like an Old Testament prophet. Orrin was nowhere in sight—an unexpected blessing.
    When the hymn ended, the preacher looked straight at them and demanded, “What are you people here for?”
    For once, the widow looked startled. “I beg thy pardon?”
    â€œWe don’t want Yankees coming down here and telling us what to do with our people. If you’re here to do that, you might as well leave in the morning. We won’t tolerate any Yankee meddling.”
    Matt waited to see what the Quaker would say before he entered the fray.
    â€œFriend, I am not a meddler. But anyone who thinks nothing here is going to change after secession, four years of bloodshed, Lee’s surrender and emancipation is deluding themselves.”
    Matt’s eyes widened. The widow’s tone was civil but her words broadsided the congregation. He felt the angry response slap back at them. Whoa. The woman had nerve, that was for certain.
    Jed McKay leaped to his feet and pointed a finger at her. “We’re not going to let a bunch of Yankees tell us how to run things in Fiddlers Grove.”
    â€œWhat things are thee talking about, Friend?” the widow asked, as if only politely interested.
    Matt’s respect for her was rising. A grin tugged at a corner of his mouth.
    Jed swallowed a couple of times and then came back with, “We won’t have our darkies learning how to read and such. And they’ll never vote in Virginia. Never. Blacks voting is just as far-fetched and outlandish as letting women vote. Won’t happen. No, sir.”
    â€œDoes thee not read the papers?” the widow countered in a courteous voice. “The Congress is waiting for the amendment for Negro suffrage to be passed by the states, and when it is, Negroes will vote in Virginia.”
    â€œOver my dead body!” Jed roared.
    â€œI believe, Friend,” the widow replied in a tranquil tone, “that there has been enough bloodshed. And I hope many will agree with me.”
    Matt drew in a deep breath at her audacity. Whoa.
    Her words left Jed with nothing coherent to say. He grumbled mutinously and then looked at Matt. “Ritter, you should never have come back here. That’s all I got to say to you.” With this, Jed sat down.
    â€œI think it would be best if you all leave our service,” the preacher said. “Now.”
    â€œMother, can he make us leave church? I thought anybody could go to church,” Beth said in a stage whisper, tugging at her mother’s sleeve.
    Matt looked to Verity, leaving it to her whether they stayed or left. After all, this had been her idea. But he’d take on the whole congregation if she wanted him to. In fact, his hands were already balled into fists.
    â€œI bid thee good evening, then,” Verity said, taking Beth’s hand and walking into the aisle like the lady she was. Matt followed her to the door of the church. Then he turned back and gave the congregation a look that declared, Everything the lady said is true. We’ll leave now. I don’t listen to a preacher who speaks hate. This isn’t over.
    The wind hurried them all home, billowing the widow’s skirt and making Joseph and Matt hold on to their hats. At their back door he paused for a moment, thinking yet again that he should say something about Fiddlers Grove and his family, but he could come up with nothing he wished to say. So he bid them good-night and headed for the cabin. Behind him, he heard Verity and her father-in-law closing and latching the windows against the coming storm.
    Just before Matt closed the cabin