Read Online Rebellious Heart by Jody Hedlund - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jody Hedlund
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Historical, Christian, Young women—Fiction, Massachusetts—History—Colonial period (ca. 1600–1775)—Fiction
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Chapter
5
Ben pitched another forkful of salt hay onto the heaping mound in the wagon. His hands were blistered and his muscles throbbed, but he felt invigorated in a way that he hadn’t since his return to Braintree earlier in the fall.
“You’re keeping up with your brothers better than I thought you would,” his father called down from the top where he straddled the tall stack, his feet sinking deep in the hay. The tidal waters infused the sea grasses with salt and nutrients that would keep the cows and sheep healthy and well fed during the coming winter.
“I’m surprised too.” Ben stopped and wiped his brow, letting the cool breeze off the bay bathe his face. They’d been working in the marshes for several days. He had to admit that as much as he loved his books and practicing law, he’d also missed the satisfaction that came from spending a day under the wide-open sky. The wet scent of the wind and the sand surrounded him at every turn, filling his senses, reminding him of the many autumns he’d spent along the shore doing the same thing.
“I appreciate your help,” his father said, looking out at the whitecaps rolling in over the distant beach. In an unguarded moment, Ben caught a glimpse of the all too familiar anxiety in his father’s eyes.
“I’m more than pleased to assist,” Ben replied. Since his return he’d noticed the grooves in his father’s forehead and the slump of his shoulders. Even though his father never complained, Ben had overheard plenty of locals talk about how difficult the past year had been. With the continually rising price of British goods, his father—like many farmers—hadn’t been able to afford to hire help for the haying or the other work.
With a frustrated shake of his head, Ben sank his fork into the cut grass his younger brothers had left behind for him to pitch into the wagon. They were already well ahead of the horse and wagon, doing the hard work of mowing the hay with the blades of their scythes.
“Heard a rumor that the British officer was moving out of Braintree,” his father said. “Guess the rumor was right.”
Ben followed his father’s gaze to the coastal road. At the sight of Lieutenant Wolfe and his assistant, along with several other soldiers, Ben straightened. Their horses were loaded with their haversacks and supplies. They were clearly moving out of Braintree.
He hadn’t rested easy since the officer had taken up residence in their community during the past month. The lieutenant had demanded accommodations under the antiquated Quartering Act, which hadn’t pleased any of the farmers who were already struggling. Having to give free lodging and meals to the lieutenant and his men had only strained their empty purses all the more.
No one had been able to understand why the British hadsent the lieutenant to their community. But Ben suspected the king was attempting to determine exactly how much smuggling was going on up and down the coastline outside of Boston, especially if parliament was getting ready to enforce the Molasses Act and put an end to the illegal activities the colonists relied upon.
Ben didn’t want to think about what would happen to tradesmen and farmers like his father if they had to depend solely upon British imports. The king already picked the colonists’ pockets every day. Without the option of smuggled goods, the king’s stealing would grow even worse.
“Have you heard where the lieutenant is going next?” Ben asked, tossing hay up to his father.
His father shook his head. “No one knows.”
“Hopefully he’s taking his red monkey suit and his puppets back to Boston.”
The lieutenant swerved his horse off the road and began galloping toward them, almost as if Ben’s quiet muttering had traveled across the field and reached his ears.
Ben plunged the tip of his pitchfork into the muddy marsh and stared at the approaching officer, unwilling to let a king’s soldier scare him.
“Be careful,
Chapter
5
Ben pitched another forkful of salt hay onto the heaping mound in the wagon. His hands were blistered and his muscles throbbed, but he felt invigorated in a way that he hadn’t since his return to Braintree earlier in the fall.
“You’re keeping up with your brothers better than I thought you would,” his father called down from the top where he straddled the tall stack, his feet sinking deep in the hay. The tidal waters infused the sea grasses with salt and nutrients that would keep the cows and sheep healthy and well fed during the coming winter.
“I’m surprised too.” Ben stopped and wiped his brow, letting the cool breeze off the bay bathe his face. They’d been working in the marshes for several days. He had to admit that as much as he loved his books and practicing law, he’d also missed the satisfaction that came from spending a day under the wide-open sky. The wet scent of the wind and the sand surrounded him at every turn, filling his senses, reminding him of the many autumns he’d spent along the shore doing the same thing.
“I appreciate your help,” his father said, looking out at the whitecaps rolling in over the distant beach. In an unguarded moment, Ben caught a glimpse of the all too familiar anxiety in his father’s eyes.
“I’m more than pleased to assist,” Ben replied. Since his return he’d noticed the grooves in his father’s forehead and the slump of his shoulders. Even though his father never complained, Ben had overheard plenty of locals talk about how difficult the past year had been. With the continually rising price of British goods, his father—like many farmers—hadn’t been able to afford to hire help for the haying or the other work.
With a frustrated shake of his head, Ben sank his fork into the cut grass his younger brothers had left behind for him to pitch into the wagon. They were already well ahead of the horse and wagon, doing the hard work of mowing the hay with the blades of their scythes.
“Heard a rumor that the British officer was moving out of Braintree,” his father said. “Guess the rumor was right.”
Ben followed his father’s gaze to the coastal road. At the sight of Lieutenant Wolfe and his assistant, along with several other soldiers, Ben straightened. Their horses were loaded with their haversacks and supplies. They were clearly moving out of Braintree.
He hadn’t rested easy since the officer had taken up residence in their community during the past month. The lieutenant had demanded accommodations under the antiquated Quartering Act, which hadn’t pleased any of the farmers who were already struggling. Having to give free lodging and meals to the lieutenant and his men had only strained their empty purses all the more.
No one had been able to understand why the British hadsent the lieutenant to their community. But Ben suspected the king was attempting to determine exactly how much smuggling was going on up and down the coastline outside of Boston, especially if parliament was getting ready to enforce the Molasses Act and put an end to the illegal activities the colonists relied upon.
Ben didn’t want to think about what would happen to tradesmen and farmers like his father if they had to depend solely upon British imports. The king already picked the colonists’ pockets every day. Without the option of smuggled goods, the king’s stealing would grow even worse.
“Have you heard where the lieutenant is going next?” Ben asked, tossing hay up to his father.
His father shook his head. “No one knows.”
“Hopefully he’s taking his red monkey suit and his puppets back to Boston.”
The lieutenant swerved his horse off the road and began galloping toward them, almost as if Ben’s quiet muttering had traveled across the field and reached his ears.
Ben plunged the tip of his pitchfork into the muddy marsh and stared at the approaching officer, unwilling to let a king’s soldier scare him.
“Be careful,
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