Spoke Of Love by Cathy Marie Hake

Author:Cathy Marie Hake
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2013-09-30T04:00:00+00:00

Put thou thy trust in God,

In duty’s path go on;

Walk in His strength with faith and hope,

So shall thy work be done.

Lord, I put my trust in You. Though all I owned, and was, were stripped from me, You have been my stronghold. You heard my prayers and placed me in the Walsh home. I give You my thanks.

When the music ended, Garnet slipped onto the end of the Walsh bench. The preacher set his Bible on the pulpit. “Before I pray, the schoolmaster is suffering quinsy. As a result, he cannot teach for the next few days. Word will be sent out when school is to resume.” The reverend prayed, then read from the third chapter of Proverbs. “ ‘Let not mercy and truth forsake thee. . . .’ ”

Garnet cast a quick look at her master. He did just that—he’s shown me great mercy.

“ ‘Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.’ ”

I don’t understand all that has happened to me, but, Lord, You have a purpose. I trust in You.

After the service, Goodman Brooks called across the churchyard to them, “Hold a moment!”

“If you intend to talk about music, I’m sending Ruth to be part of the discussion,” Falcon Morton announced. “There’s nothing sweeter than the sound of her playing her dulcimore.”

“Come then, Goodwife Morton.” Goodman Brooks still held his viola de gamba as he approached. He then beckoned another man. “And you, Alex Smith. No one plays a fiddle more pleasingly than you.” Ruth and Goodman Smith came over.

Another woman scurried up, as well, but something about how Samuel drew Hester close to his side struck Garnet as odd. He nodded politely. “Goodwife Ryder.”

“Aunt Dorcas,” all three of the Walsh children greeted in unison.

Instead of returning the pleasantry, the woman stuck out her hand, palm upward, toward Garnet. “That recorder was my sister’s. By all rights, it should be mine now.”

“No, it shouldn’t.” Master Walsh stepped up to Garnet’s side.

Goodman Brooks shook his head, and in an excessively patient tone said, “Goodwife Ryder, all a wife owns belongs to her husband.”

“Naomi owned her recorder ere she married.” Dorcas tilted her head defiantly.

“Yes, she did,” Smith agreed. “But upon marriage, two become one.”

“Surely grief made you overlook that important truth,” Ruth said in a kindly tone. “I recall you once played a cittern—and handily. It would be merry to add yet a different instrument to the group.”

“Indeed. We’d have a quintet.” Garnet jumped at the sound of the preacher’s voice. He’d come over and now gave Dorcas a conciliatory smile. “I’m sure once you reflect upon it that you’ll not begrudge Widow Wheelock playing the recorder. ’Tis a blessing for her to be able to give sound, if not voice, in worship.”

Most of the congregation milled around; clearly they were eavesdropping.

A man stood behind Dorcas and rested his hands upon her shoulders. Hatred twisted his features as he looked first at Samuel, then at Garnet.

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