Patina had kept the boy hidden from John for the first six months of his life. No one knew what John would do should he see Theo’s son. The boy was mixed, but you had to look hard to see it. After the loss of his wife, John rarely let the two toddlers out of his sight. At the end of the day, Patina had a difficult time prying Drake from John’s arms. Drake loved his grandfather and John loved Drake.
“Thanks Patina. Let Henry know if you need him to take her.” Mary said and kissed her daughter’s head. The child was sleepy as well and she knew Patina would put her down for a nap as well.
“That child is getting tall, just like her daddy.” Liza grinned. She walked over to Nan and looked out the window as well. It was now a waiting game.
EIGHT
Mary’s labor was shorter than expected and within a few hours, her son was born. He was long and healthy, sending up a mighty bawl. Henry heard the commotion and burst into the bedchamber. Liza and Nan rolled their eyes, at least he didn’t faint this time. Henry had been ordered out of the house and to the smithy, but it would seem he hadn’t listened. Henry sat on the side of the high poster bed, holding his son, when John walked in the open door. Henry immediately stood up, clasping his son to his chest.
“Be at ease Dark Henry, I merely came to take a look at the child.” John said, waving Henry back to Mary’s side. John walked over to Mary, his frail veined hand coming to rest on her shoulders.
“How are you feeling my dear?” John asked softly, his voice shaking.
“I’m fine sir, this was an easy delivery and I had the best of help.” Mary said, nodding to Liza, who was cleaning up. Liza smiled at Mary, and left the room. John looked over to Dark Henry, who was still holding the baby close.
“Boy or girl?” He asked.
“He’s a fine healthy boy.” Mary told him, pride evident in her smile as she looked at her husband and child.
“I have a request and you need not obey; it is merely a request. Can you name the child after my beloved wife? Victor? Perhaps as a middle name?” John asked, his voice hopeful and hesitant. Mary was touched, her eyes glossy with unshed tears.
“Oh, John, I would be proud and pleased to name our son after the mistress. I couldn’t think of a better name, Henry Victor Anderson.” She said, beaming at her husband. Henry’s beautiful smile indicated his approval over her choice and knew the master was well pleased. Both men left the room, leaving little Henry Victor with his mother. Both in need of rest.
Both men descended the staircase and went out to the porch. Evening was cooling and there was a gentle breeze stirring the trees. In the distance, the men heard the slaves coming in from the fields and knew cooking fires would be lit. The crickets and frogs began their serenade, blending with the music of life on the farm. Neither man said a word, but sat listening to their world. Tall Tom joined them, and he too sat quietly on the porch. They let the peacefulness of the evening cloak around them, warm and comfortable. In the companionable stillness, they heard the soft laughter of the women above and the soft cries of Henry Victor.
Harsh winter winds blew across the farm and bit into the very marrow of the bone. It was another cold winter. John had moved Patina and Drake into the main house, into a spare room. Mary smile at the children’s antics and held Victor. John seemed to be doing better with his sorrow, his life filled with children. He sat in the large leather chair in the study, with Ida was at his knee and Drake in his lap. Mary laid Victor into his cradle to finish the darning. The wind shook the windows outside, but inside, the study was warm. The men were out on patrol. There had been news of hostile activity. There had also been news that Theo would be returning home before spring.
Theo had been wounded again and would be returning home once he was able. Mary had sent two letters in late September apprising both Theo and Todd of their mother and Samuel’s deaths, as well as the precarious situation of the farm. She told them that many Union and Confederate troops came through, taking anything that wasn’t hidden. John had been unwilling or unable to write his sons with regard to his wife’s death. Mary had questioned him and was shocked that he had not written his sons. She had taken it upon herself to tell them, as well as request their presence home.
The increasing raids from deserters were alarming. Tall Tom had sent several of the men about the property with old muskets and pistols. Tom had instructed the men to shoot to kill, then to bury the bodies. Meager amounts of food were kept on hand to give the raiding armies. The bulk of the food remained hidden. It was feared that if they found nothing, they would fire the property. Tom ensured that only a fraction of their food supply was made
