FREEDOM’S PRICE
Colonial American Frontier Romance
To survive on his newly cleared land in Colonial Jamestown, Thomas Deed needs a field hand, not a wet-nurse. But he honors a deathbed promise to his sister and takes on Mary Price, a new mother, to provide for his nephew. As she works his land and works her way into his heart, when the time comes, how will he let her go? Colonial Virginia, 1644.
"Oh my G..! I can’t believe I have never read anything by this author before. Something I will quickly rectify.
I haven’t read a book in a long time that had me so emotionally invested. ."
~Lesesüchtig on Freedom’s Price~
Excerpt - FREEDOM’S PRICE
Chapter One
Virginia Colony, aboard the ship Hopewell, April 1666
Mary Price had been through too much to lose her sister now. She swallowed back her fear as she faced the captain.
“But, we are together,” stammered Mary.
“No longer,” said the captain.
Sparks of light danced before her eyes. If she fainted, the buyer might go, and she and her sister must get off this ship today. She lifted her chin. “Thomas Fowin owns the contract, and he assured us we would not be parted.”
The captain’s laugh sent a shiver down her spine. “Did he now? Too bad he is in Bristol and you are here.”
Mary turned to her sister Jane, who stared at her, green eyes anxious.
“How old is your child?” asked the buyer.
Mary looked up at the man. He was strikingly handsome save for his red-rimmed eyes, which made him look as if he carried all the sorrows of the world upon broad shoulders. She recognized the haunted expression and wondered whom he had lost?
“How old?” he asked again.
Mary stroked the blonde fuzz covering her daughter’s pink head. Tiny pale lashes fanned over Anne’s cheeks and her mouth pursed as if to suck.
“Seven months. Please, sir, take us both or find another. There are many single women here.”
He glanced at the captain, who shook his head.
“She’s the only one,” said the captain. “Come, we’ll seal the bargain.”
The man met her beseeching look.
"I made a promise," said Mary to him.
"As did I," he said. Then he turned to follow the captain to the forecastle.
Tears coursed down Mary’s cheeks. “I’ll not go,” she said to her sister.
Jane lowered her head in defeat and Mary’s hope died.
Her sister’s voice came flat and lifeless. “We were lied to again.”
Mary thought of her bargain with the judge and the papers she could not read but had signed to save Jane. “He promised. No prison and we would stay together.”
“Aye, he promised. Along with good food and indoor work. Instead he sold us here, to this.” Jane’s arm swept toward the squatty, dismal little town and then to the door where the men had disappeared, and her expression turned to a mask of cold resolve. “He’s buying your indenture contract. You will be his and you must do as he says. Do not make him dislike you.”
“But why me? You are the stronger.”
“He wants you.”
Mary sobbed. What she feared most had come to pass. She was alone with only her wee daughter to cling to. “I’ll not lose you, as well.”
Jane grabbed her by her shoulders, squeezing tight. “You do not lose me. I will find you after I am freed. Just stay alive.”
Hope sparked, igniting a fire of determination in her belly. “You will come?”
“Nothing save death will stop me.”
“You must not die.”
Jane smiled and her eyes had a determined glint. How Mary admired her sister’s courage. Her own insides trembled like an underdone pudding.
The men returned. Mary lowered her chin, preparing to meet her fate.
“Mary Price, you are indentured to this man, Thomas Deed, for the term of seven years.”
“Seven,” gasped Mary. “My term is four.”
“Seven, as you signed,” said the Captain.
The buyer motioned. “Come along.”
“Wait.” She stepped forward, and with her free hand, clutched the man’s sleeve. The warmth of his body radiated through her ice-cold fingers as she stared into his pale eyes. Her voice implored. “Can you not buy her as well?”
He turned his head away. “I cannot.”
She did not release him. “Then have you any food? We have not eaten since yesterday morn.”
The man gave her a startled look, and anger flared bright in his eyes. He turned to the captain. “You’ll get nothing for them dead, you know.”
The captain shrugged and walked toward the two men who had just appeared on the gangplank.
Mary released Thomas Deed and stepped back, clasping her hands before her as if in prayer. Her new master reached in his shoulder sack and withdrew a lump of hard cheese the size of his fist. He opened his hand and extended the offering to Mary. She snatched the treasure and took two large bites. Then she turned to her sister.
She pressed the cheese into Jane’s hand. “Here. Don’t eat it all, in case you are not sold today.”
Jane nodded and tucked the morsel in the pocket beneath her skirts.
Mary turned back to her new master. “Where are we bound?”
He cast her a frown. “North, to a plantation on the York River.”
“Your name once more?”
“Thomas Deed.”
“Are you the owner of this land?”
His eyes narrowed. “I am, and I’d like to get back to it.”
Mary turned to her sister. “Will you remember?”
Jane whispered. “Thomas Deed, north of Jamestown on the York River. I’ll find you.”
Mary threw one arm around her, and baby Anne wiggled at being crushed between them. They separated.
Jane stroked the infant’s head. “Seven years. She won’t remember me.”
“I’ll see she knows you.” She glanced over her shoulder to find Deed suddenly fascinated with the port below them.
Mary turned to her sister, and her throat burned with suffering.
“Seven years parted. How will I bear it?”
“You must.”
She nodded, and they kissed.
Jane lifted Mary’s bundle of belongings, helping her shoulder the load. Mary reached within and slipped her prize possession into Jane’s bag.
“Fare thee well,” said Mary.
Jane blinked back the tears.
“And you,” she choked.
Mary turned away, following this stranger to whom she was bound. He descended the gangplank and joined the crowd on the docks. On the muddy shore, her knees wobbled and she staggered. Thomas Deed grasped her elbow, catching her ere she fell. The strength in his hands startled her as much as the unexpected tingle caused by his touch.
“Sea legs,” he muttered. “I remember.”
She wondered if he felt the same awareness when he touched her and watched his pupils dilate like black disks rimmed with blue. He drew away, and she stared in apprehension, resisting the urge to rub the spot where he held her. What power was this?
At the top of the bank she paused and turned toward the ship Hopewell. Deed hesitated and then halted beside her.
Jane waved from the ship’s rail. It took all Mary’s resolve not to dash back to her sister. Mary’s daughter, Anne, and Jane were all she had left in this world. She drew her arms protectively about her child and lifted Anne’s tiny arm to wave. Jane pressed one hand to her lips for a moment, but the other hand continued to wave. Mary gulped at the lump in her throat, but it remained as stubborn as a fish bone.
A firm hand upon her elbow brought her back to the tall, dark stranger beside her. He drew her away, past the brewery and the potter who was just opening his brick kiln. Mary stumbled along, raising a cloud of dust. The ping of a blacksmith’s rhythmic blows came from within the next house. Thick coal smoke suddenly burned her nostrils. Mary glanced back but could see only the top of the ship’s three masts.
She staggered past a blur of faces as Deed rushed her through the low door of a wattle-and-daub ordinary. Mary blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the crude little drinking establishment. Rows of benches lined the walls and groups of men clutched noggins. The stench of sweating bodies and the tang of stale beer filled the air. Her stomach growled.
“Oh, thank the Lord above you’ve come at last,” said a large woman carrying four wooden noggins in each hand. Her eyes fell on Mary and immediately turned to Anne. She lifted an arm, pointing toward the back door. “In the kitchen, hurry now before he has a fit.”
Deed gripped Mary’s elbow so tightly she cried out as he hurried her through the room. She caught a breath of fresh air before plunging into the smoky kitchen.
The thready wail of an infant brought her to a stop. Instantly, her breasts tightened and a gush of milk came from her nipples. Anne struggled against her with eyes wide open.
Deed crossed the room in two strides and reached into a large cooking pot filled with linen, lifting out a newborn whose face shone crimson with outrage as howls rang in the air.
The cook bobbed before them, wringing his hands. “I tried cow’s milk, but he threw it up.”
Deed thrust the wailing infant at Mary.
“Feed him!”
Understanding dawned. This was what made her different from all other women aboard the Hopewell. She alone nursed a babe.
She sat on a stump beside the open window and lay Anne face down upon her lap. Then she released the ties of her shift, accepted the shrieking newborn and held him to her breast.
The infant rooted a moment, then latched onto her nipple with a force born of desperation. A rush of pleasure tingled as the baby drew his sustenance. She stroked the small, dark head, so different from her Anne’s. When Mary lifted her head, she found Thomas Deed standing motionless, staring at her.
Uncomfortable beneath his wintry glare, she stifled the urge to cover herself until she noted his attention lay not upon her, but upon the newborn. His brutal expression struck her cold. Emotions she could not fathom swirled in the oceans of his eyes.
Instinctively, she drew a protective arm about the babe.
Excerpt FREEDOM’S PRICE (c) 2020 – Jenna Kernan