Free Abiding Peace by Susan Page Davis

Sunday winter suit for him, but he really needs something to work about the place without fear of ruining it.”
    “Ah. Well, I might have something.”
    “Your Charles is taller than the pastor.”
    “This is none of his clothing.”
    “Well, don’t give me anything you and Charles will need.”
    “Nay, ‘tis a piece of cloth he picked up for me on his trip to Boston last month. He brought home a bolt of serge, for which I was grateful, and two pieces of flannel for the baby, and a bit of blue silk.” Jane smiled, her cheeks going a becoming pink. “He said I should make myself a bodice from the silk, but I don’t know as I’d dare wear it. The women of Cochecho would think I was putting on airs.”
    “I think it would be lovely, and it would please Charles.”
    “Perhaps. Anyway, there’s this piece of coarse cotton. He said he thought I might use it for pillow ticking, but it’s not near so fine as I’d like in a pillow.” Jane went into the next room and returned with a folded length of cloth.
    Christine ran her hand over it. “That would do. If you’re certain …”
    “Oh, I am.”
    Christine nodded. “I’ll spin for you in exchange.”
    “Nonsense.”
    “Nay, you do far too much for me.”
    The baby cried, and Jane smiled. “There’s Johnny, awake from his nap. After I feed him, I’ll help you cut out the pieces.”
    Christine went out to check on the little girls. They played inside the fence that surrounded the house, barn, woodshed, and yard.
    “We’re building a house for the dollies.” Constance took her hand and led her to where they had formed a little stick house from twigs they’d gathered in the yard.
    “Goodman Gardner has a baby calf yonder. And we got to pet it.” Abby pointed to the small barn. “Do you want to see it?”
    Christine caught a glimpse of color through a slit between the upright posts of the palisade. “I should love to, but I see young Mrs. Dudley coming along the path. Shall we go meet her? We can help her carry some of baby Hannah’s things, perhaps.”
    “I’m so glad to see you,” Sarah called as they approached. “Richard doesn’t like me to walk even this far alone, but I could see him and Charles working almost as soon as I left my own doorstep, so I knew he wouldn’t mind.” She handed a basket to Abby and a small sack to Constance. “Thank you, my dears. Hannah is eager to play with you.”
    Sarah provided not only a store of anecdotes to entertain them but a pudding for the dinner she and Richard would share with the Gardners and their guests. Jane and Sarah set about preparing the noon meal while Christine took out her mending, and the little girls settled to play with Hannah and John on a blanket on the floor.
    “Richard’s mother paid a call on Goody Ackley yesterday.” Sarah chopped scallions while Jane punched down her bread dough and set it to rise a second time. “Mahalia had asked her if she had any rye flour left, so Mother Dudley took over a small sack. She found Alice Stevens rather put upon.”
    “Oh?” said Jane. “Isn’t that a maid’s lot?”
    “Aye. But Mother thought Mahalia treated her ill. Whatever the girl did, the goodwife complained in front of Mother until Alice was so nervous she dropped the plate of biscuits she was serving.”
    “Oh, dear.”
    “What did she do?” Christine asked.
    “Mahalia screamed at her and told her to go and finish the washing. Mother Dudley said Alice was crying when she left the house.”
    “It’s too bad.” Christine knotted her thread and broke it off.
    “Aye,” Sarah said. “Alice was always a pretty and pleasant girl, if a bit timid. I fear she’ll turn into a cowering ninny if she stays long at the Ackleys’. After she went out, her mistress told Mother Dudley she was a sly, sniveling girl and not nearly so good at cleaning as the last one.”
    “Well, I’m glad it’s not me.” Christine took out one of Ben’s socks and her darning egg.
    “You did well not