Shiloh by Lori Benton

Author:Lori Benton [Benton, Lori]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FICTION / Christian / Historical, FICTION / Romance / Historical / Scottish
ISBN: 9781496444394
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Published: 2021-10-05T00:00:00+00:00

23

She chose his favorite of the beeches.

After supper in Naomi’s cabin, he had led Seona through those magnificent hardwoods to choose the new cabin site. With their broad trunks spaced so widely a wagon could be driven through their ranks, abundant sunlight shafted through the leaves, warming the beechnut-scattered ground. Birds’ trilling filled the boughs.

Threading through the trees, they reached the final beech, corded roots spread wide, standing sentinel at the grove’s north edge. Seona had walked its circumference, trailing fingers over its grooved trunk, now smoothly pale, now carpeted in moss. From its shelter the view of the lake’s northwest corner was unobstructed. Would be until the corn planted between grew high.

“Here,” Seona had said, taking in the view he meant their house to share. “I might have seen all this before, you described it so well in your letters.”

“D’ye like the place?”

She had turned, smiling softly, eyes haunted with some feeling he couldn’t read. “It’s beautiful.”

He had wanted to take her hand, seal the moment with a kiss, but simply marked the corners of what would be her cabin with sticks driven into the ground, then walked her back to where the others were sorting themselves. He had set up a shelter in the yard, then fetched a shovel to start breaking ground while the light lasted.

Four days later the new cabin’s walls were raised, chinked with debris from the notching, roof timbers set in place, door and window framed, a hole cut for hearth and chimney. The progress was thanks to a spate of dry weather and the help of all available hands, including those of Neil MacGregor and his youngest sons, Matthew having not yet returned from hunting.

Presently it was himself and Neil perched high on the roof beams with piles of split shingles they were hammering into place, using mostly black locust thorns, long and hard as nails. Before leaving Mountain Laurel, Malcolm had advised collecting as many as he could. They had yet to spot the trees so far north.

Malcolm and Liam were muddied to the shins in the pit dug to work the daubing, a mixture of clay, shredded cedar bark, and dried horse dung. Liberally watered, it squished between their toes as they trod the pit, making man and boy laugh.

“Listen to you both,” Seona called from below Ian’s perch. “Giggling like girls.”

Lily and Naomi were minding the children so Seona could help with the cabin raising, since Catriona had gone into Shiloh with Maggie to aid at the school—from which the boys had been excused. Ian looked down to see her at the pit, come to gather another basketful of daubing. Locust thorn clamped between his lips, he set a shingle in place and watched her.

The day was warm but not overly sticky. White-billowed clouds sailed a blue sky. Seona’s plaited hair bared her neck. Her short gown and petticoat were those she had worn in Albany when they met on the street. He remembered them from Mountain Laurel. Grown threadbare in spots, dotted with spark holes, they fit her still.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.