Molly blazed with resentment at Andrew’s reproach of her. Through no fault on either part she’d been left in peril. Assured by those who in authority that Andrew would not have survived his brutal Indian attack, decisions were made on her behalf. At their direction she’d accepted her fate and been married to Master Wharton. Had she tried to refuse, she faced serious consequences. Marriageable women were scarce in Jamestown. Though she truly grieved her lost husband, she was a pragmatist and worked to accommodate her marriage.

Providentially, she found her life fulfilling. Thrust into marriage and motherhood, her situation was much improved. She’d come to Jamestown with Andrew a pauper and virtual slave and in a few short years found herself a wealthy landowner, farmer, and mother. Her days were long and rigorous. With the help of Will and another bondsman, Perkins, she managed the farm and began harvesting the timber on her five-hundred acres. Young Jamie was fascinated as he busied himself with everything going on at the farmstead.

Aggie supervised Lizzie Perkins, Molly’s bondswoman in the house and at the weaving with the little girls at her knee. The farmstead ran like a well-oiled machine. There wasn’t a moment of the day that Molly could call her own. She was no longer the callow girl who’d come to Jamestown with Andrew. Had she wanted to marry, she could have had her pick of men. Grateful for her improved circumstances, she had no intention of submitting to the demands of a husband and the likelihood of having a string of babies. She gloried in her life.

Inversely, Andrew’s lot in life was far worse. Enslaved by the Indians, he’d been traded a time or two. He’d been relegated to work among the women, suffering constant abuse and humiliation. His life was a misery.. Scarred and scorned, he was the lowesst of the low. He yearned for the good times as an indentured servant with Molly.