Children of Salem

“Not anymore.”

“No?”

“Not since we’ve taken to hearing the word from mother. She conducts prayer out of our home.”

“She’s always been a minister and a midwife.”

“And on her worst day, she does a much finer job of it than Parris on his best day.”

“I believe you. I’ve heard his sermons.”

“Then you know what poison he’s capable spreading from the pulpit.”

“He’s a man filled with venom, sure.”

“You’ve taken his measure then, and in short order. You always were a quick study.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Now you need to find new lodgings.”

“New lodgings?” he didn’t expect this.

“Do you have any idea the number of people he’s infected with his poison?”

“I should simply have come to you for information instead of going into the village that first night I arrived!”

“Yes, you most certainly should have. Now about getting out from under that roof.”

“I will in due time.”

“Nothing good can come of your being in that blaggard’s home.”

“I have no choice. Right now, it’s what I must do. A duty is a duty! Your father, my father before him taught me to honor my contracts.”

She studied his eyes, his every feature, and she saw the answer to her question before she asked it. “To curry favor with Increase Mather?”

“What better way to gain a valuable appointment? I spent four of the last ten years at Harvard College, studying law.”

“Law, religion, magistrate, minister, where is the difference in our colony?”

“I know they are entwined, Serena.”

“Like a two-headed snake coiled round itself.”

“Aptly put.” He realized she was his equal, that she had studied history, science, the law, Latin, theology, mathematics, and literature thanks to the Towne family’s large library. There’s much needs doing in the New World regarding legal issues, and I want to be on hand to disentangle the snake when the time comes.”

“With Increase Mather’s help? Not likely. Have you read the man’s writings?”

“Yes and yes, I have. Mather knows change must come.”

“Have you bothered to read any of his rulings then?”

“I know, I know . . . he’s a minister first, a judge second. But he is also aware of the inherent problem in a theocracy.”

“Government run by theologians serves us poorly. We shall be a miracle to survive in these colonies as is.”

Jeremy continued. “It’ll take generations, but change is coming, and since when did you become so interested in such issues?”

“Since I had ten years on my hands with little else to do but read.”

He took her in his arms again and a dark cloud that’d rolled in from nowhere covered them in deep shadow as their horses nibbled at one another’s heels.

Serena looked skyward, gauging the sudden change in weather. A wind picked up scattered leaves and the leavings of winter snow, blowing these about in whirling dervish fashion. Ripples over the surface of the water had begun to create a pattern of restlessness. Serena and Jeremy watched the rippling, an effect that looked as if God were turning the water’s surface into a giant scaled fish.

“Poor Mother,” she groaned.

“What is it?” he asked.

“The change in weather, Jere, it means a death knell to her coming out party at the house.”

“A bit early in the year for outdoor picnics.”

“She’s so looked forward to it, and we’d already put if off a week.”

“Off? A week?” He shook his head at this and tried a lie. “I’m sure a bit of a breeze’ll not bother the heartiest of the revelers.”

“Perhaps the rain’ll hold till nightfall.” She continued to study the sky.

“Yes, quite possibly right.” The moment he said this, the cloud overhead burst with lightning, thunder, and a downpour of thick, pebble-hard rain pellets.

“Some farmer you’d make!” she shouted over the thunder, then laughed.

He joined her laughter as both horses whinnied their distress. They had to scurry to fetch the frightened horses. Once mounted, she raced off ahead of Jeremy in the direction away from her family home, and Jeremy raced after.

Chapter Fifteen

Jeremiah and Serena located an old cabin on the Nurse property, one long out of use except as emergency shelter and storage. There was also a shelter beside the cabin large enough for the horses. In the storm, they left their mounts tethered and saddled, rushing indoors hand-in-hand. They’d become absolutely soaked and chilled.

“So early for such rains,” she complained, her arms flailing with the wet.

“Haven’t been this wet since . . .” he began.

“Since when?”

“Since that day you pushed me into the Frost Fish.”

“You had it coming, remember? The game was called Even-Stephens!”

“What? For kissing you?”

“You needed a good cooling down that day, Jeremy Wakely.”

“What’re we to do? Stand here and shiver?”

“Build a fire. Surely, in all your worldly travels, by now you’ve learned how?”

“Watch me.” Jeremy went to work at the cobwebbed hearth, starting with kindling and some gunpowder from a pouch he carried. Soon a fire was building, and next roaring, sending most of its heat straight up and out the chimney. Still, the fire glowed bright and cast an orange glow about the old cabin, filling it with a warm feeling but when he looked around, no Serena.

Jeremy could not find her, yet they were in a single-room cabin. She’d disappeared in the manner of a phantom, and for a half moment, he gasped at the trick of light as she stepped from behind a stairwell at the center of the cabin leading to an attic room overhead. “Bit warmer upstairs,” she said. “She’d wrapped a sheet around her like a shroud, tied tightly against her body.

Jeremy had already peeled away his shirt and he stood before the fire in silhouette, his broad shoulders and muscles outlined against the fire behind him. “You should bring down your clothes to dry ar the fire,” he suggested.

“And you,” she countered, tossing him a blanket to use.

“Ah, yes, and I should undress?”

“Yes, by all means. Get those wet clothes off and wrap yourself in the blanket.”

She retreated back up the stairs, her footstep so light as to be near undetectable. Jeremy wondered what was so interesting about upstairs, but he worried now with getting the rest of his drenched clothes off. The blanket tied about him, he grabbed an old chair to drape his shirt, pants, socks, and unmentionables before the fire. “You really should bring down your clothes to dry,” he called up the stairwell now.

“There’s a fine view of the storm from up here,” she replied. “Great bay window to look out.”

It was a clear invitation to join her. Jeremiah cautiously took the stairwell, barefoot, wrapped in the woolen blanket. The warmth had returned to his body, and for that he felt grateful.

When his head came above the floor on the second landing, he found Serena propped on her side, head in