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Chapter 5: Common Ground

Gunshots made Ruth fling out of bed and onto the floor. Her heart was racing incredibly fast but it was over quickly. She laid on the floor for a few moments and collected herself before she sat up and peered over the bed to see that Jean was not there. She got up off the floor and headed to the window, where she saw birds flying in massive flocks back into the trees as if they had had a fright. She knew it was nothing more than hunters. She figured she would not be able to go back to sleep after that jolt.

She looked over at her wedding dress, which was draped over a chair. It was the only piece of clothing she owned now. She didn't know what to do. She headed downstairs after dressing and saw Laura looking up at her in shock.

"Not ready to put that dress in storage, Mrs. Villeneuve?" Laura joked.

Ruth looked down at it and sighed. She wouldn't be able to get anything done dressed like that. Their exchange was interrupted suddenly. Her and Laura looked up when the door flung open. Occum had a dear slung over his shoulders. Laura gasped.

"How dare you come in here with that thing," she chided the men, "you're gonna track blood all over the floors? I just cleaned them this morning!"

Occum laughed and followed her down into the kitchen. Everyone could still hear her talking about it. She had done a wonderful job with the floors, Ruth noted, but there were a couple blood spots by the door.

Jean was staring at her dress. He didn't know she only had the one. If he had known, he would have made sure she was set up to have new ones once she was settled in.

"Margaret may have a couple dresses for you," Ben broke the silence. He was wondering the same thing. Ruth couldn't protest. It was her only option. Making dresses took awhile and she needed to find fabric. Nathan and Samuel ran out of the house to go get their sister. Ben followed, letting them know he'd be back soon.

Jean and Ruth were left alone in the entry way.

"I will take you to town," Jean said on a whim, "to talk to Charlotte's seamstress."

Ruth was surprised by this. She didn't expect to have someone else make her dresses for her. She didn't object though. Sewing was exhausting and she had bigger troubles on her plate. There was much work to do.

….

Margaret came over with a couple bundles under her arms. She had a huge smile on her face and looked excited. She headed upstairs with Ruth and unwrapped them, laying them out on the bed.

"They aren't too fancy but I think they'll do for now," Margaret said happily as she sat down, "I'm sure Jean will buy you much nicer ones when you go to town."

"I don't know why I'd need anything more than these."

"Of course you do," Margaret chuckled, "none of these will work for the gathering at the barn in a couple weeks."

"The gathering at the barn?" Ruth asked in confusion.

"It's to mark the harvest season," Margaret informed her, "The community gathers every year at my father's barn and we have a bit of a party. It's a bit of good fun before the men help harvest. You'll be spending the night with us because all the women cook for the men when it begins the next morning. You'll need some dresses."

Ruth hadn't been to a gathering in years. She worried she had forgotten how to dance. The war had taken a lot of memories from her and she was still desperately searching for them.

"Well, I hope these dresses will work," Margaret spoke up, "They're good work dresses but every woman needs a couple nice ones. Especially for church."

Ruth smiled as she picked them up off the bed. She decided to wear the nicest one of the bunch, considering that she was going to town.

"I don't know how long they'll fit you though," Margaret prattled on, "with a baby on the way, I'm sure you'll need new ones."

Ruth almost laughed but held it in. It was obvious that she hadn't heard that it was impossible at that moment for Ruth to be pregnant. Margaret saw the look on her face and felt a bit confused.

"Aren't you excited to have children?" she asked innocently.

"Oh, I am," Ruth answered, "but I don't see how it could possibly happen anytime soon."

Margaret cocked her eyebrow. She wasn't entirely sure at first as to what Ruth meant but it hit her a couple minutes later.

"You can't possibly-"

Ruth sighed. She had hoped Margaret wouldn't know what she meant.

"It's not really my business but-"

"Your aunt has already given me the lecture," Ruth said sternly. She wasn't in the mood to be blamed and she didn't understand why they were so open to speak to her about it. Her family never spoke of such things so forwardly.

Margaret pushed the subject aside, sensing Ruth's discomfort and helped her change out of her wedding dress. She looked much more relaxed in the dark blue cotton dress. A white floral and vine pattern decorated it and the colors made Ruth's red hair appear much more vibrant.

"Margaret, would you mind keeping me company until I head to town this afternoon?" Ruth asked her. She didn't want the girl thinking she was angry with her for bringing up the subject.

"I would love to," Margaret said jovially.

…..

Jean and Ruth stood in the seamstresses shop and were met by a small woman, who came to Jean's waist. She took Ruth and measured her quickly, plucking fabric off of shelves.

"Now dear," she squeaked, "what sort of dress do you need?"

"I need a few apparently."

"Well, I'll take care of that for you, don't you worry," she chuckled.

Ruth wasn't used to this. She hadn't been to a seamstress in years and that had been the only time. She knew what to expect. The woman began cutting some fabric that Ruth had selected. She let Ruth know that they would be delivered to her in a couple weeks.

When she walked out of the shop while Jean gave the woman payment and let her know where he lived. Ruth was shocked when she caught the figure of a very tall man approaching her.

"Ruth Abernathy?" his voice boomed. She looked up in shock.

"Mr. Wilkins?" she was very surprised. She hadn't seen him in years.

"It's lovely to see you again," he said nervously, "I didn't think I would."

"Why is that?" Ruth tried to ask him but Jean came out of the shop. The look on his face when he saw James was not pleasant. He didn't tip his hat to the man and put his hand on the small of Ruth's back, urging her to get into the carriage.

"I'm talking to an old friend," Ruth snapped at him.

"Do you know him?" James asked in shock.

"He's-" Ruth felt odd saying it but the look on James' face was amusing to her, "my husband."

James Wilkins stood stupefied for a moment.

"It was lovely speaking to you again," Ruth said. She let Jean help her into the carriage.

"You're married?" he suddenly spoke up, "I hadn't heard of this."

"I'm surprised you didn't. Everyone has," Ruth said bluntly, "It took place in Pembroke just a few days ago. You remember Pembroke, don't you?"

James' face went completely white. He had no idea what she meant by it. His heart began to race so quickly he couldn't catch his breath. He watched in horror as the small carriage took off.

…..

Later that day, James was back home on the old plantation his family owned. His father was readying to hand it down to him. He, just like his son, was a very tall man and great in stature. Age had weathered him but he was still a strong and fiercely opinionated man. He was still loyal to the British, even though the war was over.

When he saw his son sit down at the table to join the family for dinner, he saw the look of confusion of his son's face.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked his son gruffly.

"I saw Miss Ruth today, in town," he said bluntly.

"Ah, you mean Mrs. Villeneuve?" his mother corrected him.

"Why didn't I hear she married the Frenchman?" James asked his father, "or that an engagement had taken place?"

"The marriage was very sudden, dear," her mother said in a comforting tone, "We didn't even hear of an engagement and when I heard, I thought it best to not say anything."

His father chuckled, "Why are you worried about her?"

"You know why, Father," James' little sister spoke up.

"Her family didn't want it to continue once you joined the British army," his father said in frustration, "Why not marry a good english girl? Instead of a damn colonial-"

"Those 'damn' colonials won the war, father," James interrupted, "They're obviously better than we thought they were."

"Don't you worry about Ruth Aber-"

"Villeneuve," his wife corrected again.

"I don't give a damn what her married name is now. It's a no good French name, is all it is," Old Wilkins, as he was called, snapped back at her, "Don't worry about that girl. She's married and now there is nothing to be done about it. You can't marry her now, so, fix your eyes on another woman."

"Father, I courted her for three years. We were engaged," James said angrily, "and then she stopped receiving my letters because you intercepted them."

"Yes, because we want good English blood in our family," he said, "when her family made it clear where their loyalties laid, I didn't want that in our line. Neither did her family."

"She could have been my wife," James said under his breath.

"You wouldn't have had any children with her," her father laughed, "She's cold from what I've heard. Their marriage hasn't been sealed."

James cocked his eyebrow and his mother groaned, taking her daughter out of the room, not wanting to hear such things.

"The marriage hasn't been consummated," his father laughed, "you dodged a horrid mistake."

"And how would you know this?" James asked in disgust, "Gossip can be very untrue. You of all people should know that."

"I still stand by what I said," his father informed him, "You did me proud by serving in the King's army and becoming a dragoon. If you had married her, you wouldn't have done that. You served under one of the greatest men. Too bad he was cut down in his prime."

"Colonel Tavington was a mad man," James said, a massive weight lifting from his chest, "He was possessed and I wish I had had the courage to stand up against him when he ordered that church burnt down. It haunts me what I did to those people. They didn't deserve that."

James got up from the table, having barely touched his food. He decided that he would prefer to go to the tavern instead of stay there with his father. He headed out and mounted his horse when one of his father's slaves brought it back around. He headed off quickly and made his way to George's Tavern, which was located very closely to town. Even though he knew no one would be welcoming there, it was better than staying home.

…

Ruth was standing in front of the fireplace in her nightgown, staring at the portrait of her brother. She could not lie and say she had forgotten the pain of losing them. She could only imagine the pain Jean felt to that day. The war had pushed down so many emotions and memories for Ruth and now that it was over, they came bubbling back up to the surface. She knew why Mr. Martin had drowned himself with alcohol after the French and Indian wars. She remembered hearing about his drunkenness from a few stories her father told. He had served in the French and Indian wars alongside him and had witnessed the horrors of war. She knew he had been a drunk for a short while after that war but that he had stopped once Gabriel was born.

When Ruth had heard of Gabriel Martin's death, she couldn't believe her ears. She had heard about so much death and it seemed as if every boy she had ever spoken to was dropping on the battlefield for the cause. However, Gabriel's death was different to her. She had been good friends with Anne, who had read a couple of Gabriel's letters to her and she had known the Martins very well until she moved to Pembroke to stay with her brother and sister. She had played with Gabriel when she was a child and her parent's would visit the Martins but once she moved away, she had stopped talking to them. However, once Gabriel started courting Anne and the war had just started, she became reacquainted with them. Her brother had even aided Mr. Martin's men before the church was burnt down.

Oddly, Ruth began to remember Jean. She had actually met him shortly before the fire. They had talked for a few moments but she had forgotten him and now it was beginning to come back to her. She had been standing behind the counter of her brother's shop when he came in, looking for a few small supplies. She had helped him. Now that Ruth remembered it, it seemed so incredibly odd that she had been standing there speaking to the man she was to marry someday. She never imagined it.

Jean walked into the room and saw her standing there. He joined her and looked at the fresh new faces on the mantel.

"My brother, my sister-in-law, my mother, my father, and my little nephew," Ruth said, pointing to each one, knowing he was going to ask, "The war took my brother and his wife and their baby. They died in the fire in Pembroke."

Jean nodded. He remembered. That was the day Gabriel and many of the men he fought with in the militia had died. It was the day he had seen Ben break down and nearly give up.

"We have common ground, you and I," Ruth said as she turned to look up at him, "let's start with that."