Pastor Sedgwick opened them in prayer and then song. “We will sing ‘Rock of Ages,’” he announced. The pianist played the introduction.

Without benefit of hymnals, the congregation joined in.

Rock of ages, cleft for me,

Let me hide myself in Thee;

Let the water and the blood,

From Thy wounded side which flowed,

Be of sin the double cure;

Save from wrath and make me pure.

Gloriana hugged Sally close as the baby began to stir. The congregation continued to sing. Sally opened her eyes as if to acknowledge the music’s purpose. Gloriana smiled at her and gave her cheek a tender touch. A baby of sorrow.

The words of the song trickled through her thoughts, and Gloriana wished she could take comfort in them, but none was found.

Not the labor of my hands,

Can fulfill Thy law’s demands;

Could my zeal no respite know,

Could my tears forever flow?

All for sin could not atone;

Thou must save, and Thou alone.

The congregation continued to sing, but while there was no solace in their words, Gloriana was caught by the rich baritone voice of the man at her side . . . and by his tears.

The weeks passed, and Gloriana found herself growing quite attached to baby Sally. Having helped her mother with her siblings, especially JT, Gloriana wasn’t a stranger to the care and upkeep of an infant. She couldn’t feed Sally from her own body, but the wet nurse supplied that need, coming every four hours night and day to help.

Luke paid the wet nurse generously, but after weeks of service, she announced she was expecting another child of her own and had to resign her position. Gloriana was devastated, not knowing how they would get by. The midwife mentioned glass bottles that were proving to be useful to other women. But when Gloriana tried them, the baby refused to take them. She seemed to despise cow’s milk, be it fresh or canned. As the baby grew hungrier, Gloriana was at her wits’ end.

“I don’t know what to do for you, sweet Sally,” she said, rocking the baby by the fireplace. The infant fussed, unsatisfied with words and warmth.

The front door opened, and JT and Luke blew in.

“It’s the witch of November,” JT declared. “She’s come early and is churnin’ things up something fierce.” He sounded just like their father. Would he one day follow in those footsteps and risk his life on the water too?

“I’m glad you’re back from town,” she said. “What were you able to accomplish?”

Luke held up a jar of what appeared to be milk. “The midwife said to try goat’s milk. She said it might sit easier on Sally’s stomach.” He placed the jar on the table, along with a burlap bag. “I got the other things you asked for.” Next he saw to his dripping coat and hat.