The Firefly Witch (Bold Women of the 17th Century Series, Book 1)(15)

He stared at her as if she was daft. “You’re not coming.”

“What?” she murmured.

“You are not my daughter.”

“Father--”

“Do not!” he barked, putting his hand up. “Do not address me thus. I am not your father.”

He climbed onto the wagon, snapped the reins and rode away. She stared at the wagon.

“Azubah!” Abigail called.

When she ran back inside, her mother asked, “Where is my husband going?”

“To Ipswich.”

“Why does he not stay?”

“He must return to the children, Mother.”

Abigail was restless after that. Her breathing was labored, and the blisters started breaking all over her body, pus running.

Early that evening Abigail called for her. She leaned close to her mother’s lips.

“Go,” Abigail mumbled.

Azubah replied, “Go? Go where, Mother?”

Abigail repeated it, but her words were garbled as if she had rocks in her mouth.

“Prithee; say it again, Mother.”

Abigail raised herself up, took a breath and said, “Be gone from me. To look upon your face reminds me that I shall burn in hell.”

Azubah’s jaw dropped. “What did you say, Mother?”

No answer.

It was suddenly hard to breathe, and Azubah stumbled to the door for air. So now in her final moments, her mother had spoken the truth. All of these years she had endured her only as a form of penance.

Can it be true? Should she leave? Her mother wanted her gone, but who would comfort her in her final agony? It wounded Azubah deeply.

But a truly good person would stay in spite of the cruel words.

She looked at her mother, thought a moment, and then walked out the door. Azubah never looked back.





Chapter 6


Azubah did not remember walking to the Mayweather homestead. She walked for an hour, dazed and unaware of her surroundings. When at last, she started up the path to the cottage, she stopped abruptly. Terror swept over her. Should she even tend Aunt Faye and Uncle Gideon? She could bring the pox here. There had been a mass exodus from Plum River to avoid the contagion. Should she even go near the two of them? They were already so frail.

Azubah stood on the path, wringing her hands. But if she did not help Aunt Faye and Uncle Gideon, they would surely die. At last, she decided to take the chance and walked up to the cottage. Saying a prayer she opened the door, and Aunt Faye looked up. She was sewing in front of the hearth.

“My little niece!” she exclaimed. “Good morrow to you!”

“Aunt Faye, you fare well?”

“My affliction is much improved,” she said with a smile.

Azubah burst into tears and ran to her, putting her head in her lap. “Thanks be to God!”

“The Hooded Ones left an elixir for me.”

Drying her eyes, Azubah looked up. “You saw them?”

“I remember little, but one of them came and helped me drink a concoction.” She laughed. “A foul tasting brew. But by evening I began to feel stronger. I am to drink a spoonful every morning. Tis there on the shelf.”

Azubah stood up and took down the small jug, uncorking it. It had the scent of lavender with a hint of hawthorn. “What manner of person was this Hooded One?”

“It was like a dream, but I do recall she was a woman, short in stature with a gentle demeanor.”

“She has not returned?”

“No.”

Azubah looked at Uncle Gideon. “And how is my uncle?”

“There is no change.”

Azubah swallowed hard, buried her fists in her apron and sat down. “Aunt Faye, I have news. When I returned to Plum River everyone had,” and she hesitated. “My mother--” and she looked at her aunt. Her eyes were bright for the first time in weeks and she was smiling. Azubah took a breath and said, “Mother said I am to live here from this day forward to help you tend to Uncle Gideon.”

Faye clapped her hands together. “Oh, this news is most welcome! I thought for a moment something was amiss.”

Azubah dropped her eyes. “No, nothing is amiss.”

*

Winter came early to the colony that year. Snow covered the path to Plum River, but it did not matter to Azubah. The blanket of white was a comfort. It created a barrier between her and the painful memories of the past.

She refused to let it poison her soul, even though the bitterness ran deep. Everyone she needed now was near her: Aunt Faye, Uncle Gideon and Bullfrog. She thought of the joy her Grandfather had given her throughout her childhood, the hours of companionship and his wealth of affection. She never knew what brought his life to an end, but it mattered little. Their time together had been extraordinary. His death left an emptiness in her though she could never fill. Many nights she lie awake wondering how life would have been if he had survived. She could have lived happily with him at the mill without her parents, but it was not to be.

Recollections of her mother were not as sweet. The rancor of her deathbed words had snapped something deep inside Azubah; it changed her forever. She turned away from all memories of her, never looking back.

Being near Aunt Faye and Bullfrog was the balm she needed. They gave her love and acceptance, and at last, she was spinning and weaving again. That in itself was spiritually nourishing.