Thanks for the reviews guys! I was a little unsure about this story when I posted it but thank you for the encouragement. Keep a look out for a few more chapters in the next couple days.

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Chapter 4: A New Home

Ruth had finally made it upstairs. She peered into each of the rooms and saw that they were empty. All except one, however. A four posted bed, with lovely floral tapestry curtains hung about it, stood in the center. She walked in and saw that it was nicely furnished and comfortable, which the other rooms were not. She sat on the bed and laid down, tiredly closing her eyes for what she thought would only be a second.

When she woke up, the sun was setting. She could hear laughter downstairs and she knew the Martins were still there. She didn't mind it. She worried about what would happen once they left. She didn't want to be alone in that huge house with the stranger she called her husband. She stood up quickly, shaking her exhaustion from herself, and made her way downstairs. Charlotte smiled when she saw her.

"We figured you'd need a little shut eye," she said jovially, "it's been quite a long day. Abigail made dinner for us all as a welcome home gift for Jean."

Ruth was a bit confused. Who is Abigail? she asked herself. She heard the Martin brood in the dining room, clattering about. She heard porcelain clinking and could smell something amazing. She saw who she assumed was Abigail, barrel out of the downstairs kitchen, carrying a platter with a large piece of meat on it.

"You need to eat something. It's been a long journey for all of ya," Abigail said to her sternly before looking over at Charlotte and whispering, "poor girl been through some things, I'm not let tin' her run this house alone."

Ruth looked a bit confused. Charlotte chuckled and Ruth saw another young woman coming out of the kitchen with a bowl of biscuits.

Her name was Laura. She was Occum's wife. They had married shortly after the war and Jean gave Occum some of his land. He built a very small home and farmed there.

Occum gave Ruth a little fright when she turned around and saw him towering above her. He tipped his hat and Laura handed him the bowl, sternly telling him to put it on the table. She was rushing about, trying to do things too quickly. Ruth looked as if she wanted to jump in and help but Charlotte took her arm and led her into the dining room.

Everyone was crowded around the large table, elbow to elbow. They were eagerly waiting for Abigail to tell them everything was ready and once she placed the last dish on the table, all the Martin boys grasped at the biscuits. Ben was trying to control them but it was of no use. It took Occum to lift them and keep them from crawling over the table. Ruth couldn't blame them. They were famished.

"So, Mrs. Villeneuve," Nathan spoke up and addressed Ruth, "are you ready to run such a big house?"

"I think I can manage," Ruth answered. Abigail shook her head.

"Not under my watch," she said as she handed a bowl to the youngest little Martin girl, "Laura will help ya."

"I don't-"

"You're gonna need help with this place," Abigail chuckled. Ruth didn't fight her. Laura smirked over at Ruth and winked at her, nodding to assure her it was all right.

….

Ruth sat on the edge of the bed and watched Jean as he shined his boots again. She flipped back the blankets but stalled before she laid down. She looked back at him and decided not to go to sleep. Things had been so strained between them, she knew that something needed to change.

"Why did you leave France?" she asked him. He slowed down the motion of his brush and stopped after a moment. The question was a tough one for him to answer.

"I had nothing to keep me there," he said bluntly. He placed down his boot and picked up the other.

"Did you have any family back in France?"

"Non," he answered, "I did-"

Ruth was a bit startled by his answer. She watched him as he sat perfectly still looking down at his boot. His brushing movement had stopped completely. He was deep in thought. Ruth wrung her hands and tried to deal with the tension in the air. She looked above the fireplace and saw three small round watercolors hanging above the mantle. It was a woman with blonde hair and two smaller portraits of young girls were hung on each side. She stood up and walked over. Jean had placed his polishing kit away. He joined her as she stood by the fireplace and placed his boots down. She was taking a closer look at the small portraits.

"Who are they?" she asked curiously. Jean's jovial look completely faded away. She suddenly realized it was a bit too soon to ask that question. She turned away and walked back to the bed but she felt his hand gently grab her elbow to pull her back.

"My wife and daughters," he said once she decided to rejoin him. He pointed at the portrait of the woman.

"Her name was Margot," he said as he moved his finger to point at the other portraits, "and they were Pauline and Violet."

"What happened?" Ruth asked solemnly.

"They were coming to stay in America for a short while but before the ship made it to shore-" Jean stalled for a moment, "a british ship fired on it."

Ruth stood in stunned silence. He looked at the portraits a bit longer and turned away. He headed to the bed and laid down. Ruth stood there a little longer and looked at the portrait of his late wife. She was beautiful, Ruth admitted. She couldn't understand why no one had told her this.

Jean blew out his candle and after awhile he fell fast asleep. Ruth couldn't though. She wandered out of the bedroom with a candle in her hand and decided to walk downstairs. It was eerily silent and the floorboards creaked under her weight. She placed the candle down on a table in the parlor and looked about at the piles of dusty books. She knew what had to be done. One of the bedrooms had to be used as a library, she thought to herself. She didn't know how long it would take to move them. There were so many books, she decided to put that task aside until she had more help.

She found where most of her trunks had been carefully laid in a corner. She took the candle with her and set it on the floor beside her as she knelt down and sat. She opened one of the trunks and looked inside. She hadn't opened it in years. The trunks had sat untouched in her room at her aunt's. They were the only things her aunt refused to sell for money. She looked into it and saw some finely sewn quilts inside. She picked them out and laid them beside herself and stroked the stitching her grandmother had done. She looked back in and saw that between the quilts there had been placed some portraits of her family members. They were small watercolors like the ones on Jean's mantle. She picked them up and inspected them. One was a wedding portrait of her mother and another of her father. She smiled and placed them in her lap and picked up the others. She picked up the candle and carefully tucked the small frames in her arm before heading back upstairs. She headed to the mantle and placed them beside Jean's.

She decided to wait until the morning to tell him who they were. She was sure he would be a bit confused seeing them. She headed to the bed and tucked herself in. She looked at the back of Jean's head and slowly fell asleep.