Heritage
by
Janice Sagraves

ONE

Since a little boy, he had loved to investigate and explore. No cave too deep, no hill too high, and no place too far to escape his curiosity. After all, he had gone all the way to Boston to college to appease that thirst for knowledge and new things. He dropped the lid on the trunk, nothing in there of interest. It had been just over two weeks since he had left home with his family for the Ponderosa. Christmas and New Year’s had come and gone and – being snowed in as they were – restiveness had seized him. So the attic had become fair game for his roving. He stepped to the window and looked out onto the white landscape. There was nothing like this land he called home, and he knew now that he could never be happy anywhere else. With a sniff and a grunt he spun around. Surely to goodness there was something up here to keep him occupied. A frown arched his dense black eyebrows. He might as well keep right on looking.

*******

Angelica Cartwright had just gotten the children down for their nap when she realized that it had been a while since she had seen her husband. The last place she remembered seeing him had been in the wine cellar, and she thought maybe she should go try to find him. She pulled the blanket up around her sons and daughter; made sure they were secure then left the room.

Angelica had just stepped out into the hall and pulled the bedroom door closed as her mother left the stairs.

Verina Cartwright rustled as she approached her daughter. “Are the babies asleep?”

“Finally. I had no problem with the boys, but Elizabeth fought me every step of the way.” Angelica glanced around them. “Mother, when have you seen Adam?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t really given it any thought until you mentioned it. Nothing’s wrong I hope.”

“Not wrong really, but for the past three or four days he has become very fidgety. Why only this morning I found him rifling through every book in his father’s bookcase. When I asked him if he was going to read he just said no, kissed me and walked away.”

“I imagine that being locked up in the same house with the same people for almost three weeks would be hard on a man with a restless nature like our Adam.” She gave Angelica a pat. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried, but I do so hate to see him miserable and so out of sorts. It’s like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, and just when you think he’s settled, he’s back up again looking for something to do.” Angelica pushed back a dark brown strand. “If only that second snow Christmas night hadn’t added another two or three feet to what we already had we could have started home.”

“I don’t think so. Adam told me about that wild ride in the sleigh, and that if he had it to do over again he wouldn’t. It frightens him to death that you or the children could have been hurt, so you could be here for a while yet.” Verina smiled and took her daughter’s hands. “But we don’t mind.”

“I know that, and we love being here, but we do need to get back to the ranch. I think that is the main thing that bothers Adam so much. He’s not used to being idle for so long. Now I am going to go see if I can find him.”

“I’ll help if you’d like.”

“No, that’s all right, I’ll find him, so you go on about your business. Even in a big house like this he couldn’t go very far. Since I’m already up here, I think I’ll try the attic first. It’s the perfect place to satisfy his agitated need to get into something.”

“All right, dear, and I’ll check in on the babies from time to time.”

Angelica thanked her and headed for the door that led to the attic.

As Angelica started up the rather steep steps, she became aware of movement, and the occasional grunt or muffled words or curse. Like a church mouse she crept up until her head cleared the stair well. “So here you are.”

He whirled toward her; a large, flat, burlap covered object in his hands.

She finished her ascent up the stairs. “What have you found?”

“It’s a painting that I haven’t seen in years. In fact, I had forgotten all about it. It used to hang in the parlor, but over time it just sorta got pushed aside.”

“I would like to see it, if you wouldn’t mind showing it to me.”

His face lit up like a lighthouse beacon. “Of course I wouldn’t.” With fingers that seemed to get in the way, he pulled off the covering to reveal a canvas in an ornate gold frame.

The second he turned it around for her to see, her deep violet eyes widened, and her complexion blushed. Her gaze traced over the two figures that had been the artist’s subjects. She stepped closer to him, but her attention never strayed from it.

The minute her eyes came up Adam knew what he perceived in their depths. He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him.

“I fail to see any humor in this, and I want to know who that woman is.”

This time he guffawed out loud. “You’re jealous.”

“I most certainly am not.”

“Oh, yes, you are, but I assure you that you needn’t be.”

“I’m looking at a painting of my husband with another woman, a woman he never saw fit to tell me about. Any wife worth anything would be upset.”

His laughter toned down to a titter. “I suggest that you take a better look.”

She frowned, and gave the picture a dubious glance then bent closer for a more thorough inspection. Her fingertips ran over the smiling, happy visages that looked back at her.

“The paint is crackled some, and men haven’t worn their hair in that fashion for many years. As a matter of fact, people haven’t worn clothes like that either. ”

“That’s right. These are my great-great-grandparents, Nathaniel and Felicity Cartwright. The painting was commissioned for their sixth wedding anniversary by her father.”

Angelica looked back to the painting then to her husband again. Her mouth fell agape. “You’re the very picture of each other. If I didn’t know better, I would say you were twin brothers.” Her eyes went to the woman. “She’s beautiful, almost like a porcelain doll. They look so very happy, and she loved him very much.”

“How can you tell that?”

“A woman knows.” She ran her hand once more over the canvas, but this time with a gentler, lighter touch. “They do make a striking couple.”

“My brothers and I were raised on stories about them. My favorite has always been the one of how they met.” He reached out and grasped her fingers. “It’s even more so now.”

Angelica’s eyes glittered in the wan shaft of light that came through the single window. “Would you tell it to me?”

“Right now?”

“I see absolutely nothing wrong with right now. The children are asleep, Mother has promised to keep a watch over them, and I have nothing better to do.”

“Okay, right now it shall be. But you’d better make yourself comfortable. It’s a long story.’

She plopped down into a frayed wingchair, and dust puffed up around her. Her hand went to her mouth to muffle a cough, but her eager enthusiasm wasn’t dampened.

He leaned the painting against a trunk then sat in the floor and crossed his long legs Indian fashion.

“Pa always started at the very beginning.”

Angelica leaned back in the chair. “I have learned that that is always the best place. Now I’m all ready.”

“As I remember it was August 1758, and from accounts a hot one. And on top of that, the French and Indian War was grinding into its fourth year.”

TWO

The coach, followed by a contingent of British foot soldiers resplendent in their bright red coats, entered the small settlement that sat adjacent to the fort. Three mounted officers rode up front. The main street, nothing more than a wide path, wound between the several buildings that comprised this rustic backwoods hamlet that had been cut from the wilderness.

Twenty-three-year-old Felicity Baddington’s eyes – as blue as the ocean she had crossed to get to this wild country – sparkled with anticipation. In all her life she had never been out of England, except once to visit relatives in Scotland, and this made her giddy. She had heard much about this untamed land since her father had come out here over a year ago. Many stories of the odious French and their red allies and the atrocities they had committed against British subjects she had heard, and they added their own element of danger to this venture.

The girl leaned on the door and stuck her head out the window in an effort to catch sight of Fort Fidelity. Soon she would see her father again after so long, and it made her young heart race even faster.

Enid Baddington’s mouth drew into a firm knot. “Felicity Cordelia Baddington, sit back in your seat as a proper lady should. You are not a turtle to go sticking its head from its shell.”

Felicity did as told and clasped her slim hands in her lap. Not even her mother’s chastising could quell her excitement. “Won’t Father be so surprised to see us?”

“He knows we are coming.”

“Yes, but he won’t expect us a whole month early. It is very lucky we are that we incurred a good strong wind or it should have taken longer.”

“And who told you that?”

“One of the His Majesty’s seamen.” She tossed back her head, and her haughty chin jutted out. “I asked him.”

“Felicity!”

The heavy log bars were removed, and the huge doors swung wide to allow the soldiers and coach to enter the stockade. The thump of the horses’ hooves and men’s feet and the clatter of the wheels was enough to draw General Hugh S. Baddington from his quarters. He fastened the last button on his coat over his broad chest as one of the officers and the vehicle came to a halt before him.

Lieutenant Gayle Townsend dismounted and gave his new commanding officer a crisp salute then introduced himself. “It was indeed fortunate that I happened upon that contingent of soldiers on their way here. The city is pleasant enough, but I knew I could not stay there for long. And the expectation of riding alone was not an appealing prospect.”

“I dare say. Many have vanished in such a manner never to be seen or heard from again, though one must never wonder what happened to them.”

The lieutenant took a folded sheet of paper from his coat and held it out. “These are my orders, sir. They explain everything that you need to know.”

The general unfolded the page and gave it a brief scan. “I have no doubt.”

“I have also brought you a present.”

“A present? It has never been given to subordinate officers to award their new commanding officer with gifts.”

“Nonetheless I think you will like what I have brought you.” The corners of the lean young man’s mouth crooked. “One moment please, sir, and I will retrieve it.” He removed his black tricorn hat then stepped back to the coach and opened the door.

At the moment he saw his family, the general’s eyes filmed with tears, which he held back with a discreet bat of his lids. His delight at seeing his wife and daughter, however, he could not keep from his face. “Enid, I did not expect you so soon. You must have had good sailing.”

Enid’s glanced at Felicity. “We did, and you can ask your daughter about that.”

His arm tightened around the girl. “I fully shall.”

“Oh, Father.”

“Now let us go inside. Leftenant Townsend, if you would be so good as to have the coachman bring in the luggage. It can be your first official duty under my command.”

“Of course, sir.”

The interior of the cabin was Spartan, and could not be taken for anything other than the living quarters of a soldier. That the general entertained very little was also in evidence.

“I am afraid that you caught me quite unawares. Our new home is not just yet complete. It shan’t be long.”

“Shall it be within the walls of the stockade?”

“Of course. I would and could never put either of you beyond the safety of its sturdy walls.” He put his arms around her and Felicity and pulled them close. “It won’t be what you were accustomed to in London, but it will the best that I could manage.”

“As long as we are together, it doesn’t matter, Father.”

The general answered the knock and exchanged muted words with someone whose sight he blocked. The conversation lasted for less than a minute then he closed the door. “If you will pardon me, my dears, the duties of a commander in this perishable land must take precedence over all. I shan’t be but as few moments.”

“There is nothing amiss I would hope.”

The general took his wife’s hand and kissed the backs of her fingers. “Oh, this is nothing but a scant bother to drag me from my family, but my Colonial scouts have returned, and I must take their report. It is an inconvenience, nothing more, and I shall get through it as expediently as possible so that I may return to you in all haste.” Then he left them.

As he went out the coachman and Lieutenant Townsend came in with the first of the trunks. Enid directed them to take it into the cabin’s only bedroom.

“Come, my girl, we have some unpacking to do.”

*******

The coolness of the evening air had erased all hints of the day’s oppressive heat. Night birds’ plaintive calls floated on the freshness of the breezes that wafted through the tops of the trees to riffle their boughs in gentle whispers. Soldiers gathered around fires to share talk and rum and ribald humor that fast ceased as the general’s daughter came close. She had wandered outside after supper, and she wasn’t about to let some off color language dissuade her from her meanderings.

She hugged herself against the chill as her feet brushed over the hard ground. A more beautiful evening she had never seen in the city, and it wasn’t to be spent inside. For a second she stopped and looked up into the star speckled sky. She didn’t think she had ever felt as alive as she did right now, and the thought of returning to London she found repellant. Since she had come of the age to be desired by men she had thirsted to be away from the foppery that chased after her like lovesick puppies. Out here men were, well, just that, men, and not those who wore sweet smelling powder in their wigs and painted their faces like women. Lieutenant Townsend – while still an Englishman – was a soldier and had been shaped by the rugged lifestyle they endured. Her father had invited the young man to dine with them, and she found him a charming and witty companion and conversationalist, but when talk had turned to things military, she had become bored and left them to it and their brandy. She snickered then turned to head back toward the cabin, though she intended not to go back inside just yet.

With a gasp, her hand flew to her throat. The man that she had almost turned in to towered over as one of the ancient trees. His long raven hair hung about his shoulders, and the firelight flickered in his equally black eyes. The dark coloring of his skin looked almost one with the buckskins that he wore, and a hatchet hung from a beaded belt about his trim waist. As the sculpture of his perfect mouth spread into a knowing smile she felt boiling blood rush through her veins. Then, with a bow of his head but not so much as a word, he walked away.

“There you are.” Lieutenant Townsend, a length of long knitted cloth hung over his arm, rushed to her. “Your mother asked me to bring you your shawl, and to escort you back inside.”

Felicity, however, was still too mesmerized by the man she had almost collided with to even hear.

“Miss Baddington.” The lieutenant laid a gentle hand against her arm.

She looked around at him, but her eyes were distant and strange.

Gayle glanced at the man as he disappeared between two of the buildings. A tinge of heat rose up at the back of his head, and his fingers twisted in the shawl. “Are you all right? He didn’t do you harm, did he?”

“Not at all, Leftenant. It was I who nearly ran into him. Was that an Indian?”

“No, that was one of the scouts, Nathaniel Cartwright.”

“Cartwright. English?”

“Not by birth, though as it has been told to me that the man’s father was from Dorchester, but talk has it that his mother was Cherokee. They also say that he can be as merciless and uncivilized, so I think it would be well that you avoid him in future.”

Felicity swallowed hard as her eyes ran in search of the handsome stranger.

“Now let us go.” He draped her shawl over her small shoulders and wrapped her arm around his. The touch of her was magical. “You know, it really is not safe for you to be out here after dark, especially alone.”

“Oh, pooh, Lentenant, I am not alone. There are soldiers everywhere.”

“And that is one of the dangers. Even the most civilized man can become a demon after imbibing too much rum. Many a common soldier comes from the dredges of society, and even being in the service of His Majesty does not change that. So I suggest that you not just go wandering off without an officer. This is, after all, not London.”

“I am well aware of that, Leftenant.”

His face softened, and a smile rose to his amber eyes. “You could call me Gayle, and I would not mind.”

“We shall see.” She felt his grip tighten on her arm. “Still, I think I need fear nothing from the men. After all, I am their commanding general’s daughter, and if they know my father only half as well as I do, then they know that if they touch so much as one hair on my head that he will have them drawn and quartered.”

“And what does such a young lady as you know of such a punishment.”

“More than you might think, Leftenant, more than you might think. Now let us simply enjoy this superb evening and not talk of such abhorrent things. Why don’t you tell me some more about yourself?”

“If you would really like to know.”

“I would, or I shan’t think I should ask.”

“Very well.”

His voice rose within the high log walls as they ambled off toward the other end of the compound. Felicity, however, heard very little of what he said. Her mind was still too overwhelmed with the image of that dark countenance that – for some untold reason – made her heart flutter like the wings of a moth trapped in a spider’s web. She gave a discreet glance back over her shoulder, but she didn’t see the ebony eyes that watched her from around the corner of the soldiers’ barracks.

THREE

Light fell through the dense canopy of deciduous trees in yellow shafts, many of which never reached the ground. Underbrush, which had yet to know the touch of man’s implements, vied for growing space and thrived in the shadows. Squirrels chattered and the crimson feathers of a bird seemed to glow as it flitted through the sun streams that made it in. The forest was a living thing in all the grandeur of God’s Creation, and this day was a perfect example of that.

A cougar – in search of a morning meal – faded as an apparition would into the dense thickets as the crunch of running feet drew too close.

Yancy Scoggins – a backwoodsman and scout without peer save for one – lagged behind his companion. But whether it was by design or not, he would never admit to it either way. A sandy red ponytail bobbed between his shoulders from beneath a battered tricorn as he sailed over a large rock that his friend had taken like a deer. His fist squeezed on the long musket which he could ill afford to lose. He had grown quite fond of his hair with the passage of years, and the possession of the firearm had helped to retain it more than once.

Nathaniel Cartwright’s life’s blood pumped through his lithe body as his legs churned over the rough terrain. Without a hat or tie to restrain it, his long black hair streamed away from his face in the rush of air that his speed produced. That this man was half Indian no one who ever saw him would question, and that he was well schooled in the ways of his mother’s people was as evident.

With the suddenness that lightning would streak the sky, Nathaniel stopped. Yancy, with the pad of a cat, came to stand beside his friend, and his eyes followed the slender brown fingers that pointed ahead. Then, with equal suddenness, Nathaniel’s musket came up with a jerk.

A shot shattered the tranquility and animals and birds scattered. Since the coming of the white man to this region, this was a sound that they had learned well.

*******

Felicity flitted about her father’s new quarters like a hummingbird in search of nectar. Though nothing in comparison to the family home in London, the log house was fairly spacious with a large living area, two bedrooms and a study for the general. It took up a back corner of the enclosure to make things only a shade more cramped, but the men never complained, at least not openly. A lone glass window in the parlor had come all the way from New York and emitted enough light till things weren’t so dark.

The girl brushed from the room that would be hers into the parlor. Furniture, which had come with them on the same ship, had already been placed. It gave a sense of family and home, and made the rough log walls not so prominent. Felicity stopped in front of the dormant stone fireplace and held her hands out to the hearth as if to warm them. “Tonight we shall have a fine fire to ward off the chill.”

Her mother turned from the bookcase as she placed another volume. “Yes, my dear, and we will be as a family once more.” She took another book from the packing crate.

Felicity turned around. “Mother, don’t you think you should have let someone else do that? There are some women in the settlement.”

Enid’s eyes grew sharp. “I know the kind of women that mostly live in that settlement. Those that do not have husbands and families work at the tavern or seem to have no visible reason for being there.”

Felicity turned back to the hearth. “Oh, you mean ladies of assignation.”

Enid dropped the book she held and whirled on her daughter. “Felicity!”

Before Felicity could be scolded her father entered through the front door and removed his tricorn. “Well we shall have fresh meat for supper tonight. The scouts just returned with a fine stag, and presented it to me.”

Felicity’s mouth went dry, and her fingers tightened in the folds of her skirt. “Does this mean that they will be dining with us?”

“No, my dear, and I am sure that they do not expect to. These are rustic colonials who do not understand the concept of good manners, and they know little to nothing of proper society.”

“But, Father, they did, after all, bring you the deer as a gift, so should they not…?”

“Felicity, do not contradict your father’s wishes. You were not raised that way.”

“Yes, Mother. Father, I am sorry, I simply thought that they should be rewarded for their so generous gift by being allowed to partake of it.”

The general frowned and took his daughter by the shoulders. “Once you have been exposed to these people as long as I have you will completely understand. One must cultivate these ruffians as one would a garden to get anything out of them, but inviting them to sup with us could cause a dangerous precedence.”

“I still see nothing wrong in it.”

“I said no, and you will not argue with me about it.” His daughter’s head dropped, and he put a finger under chin and raised it to him with a smile. “I tell you what I will do. I shall invite Leftenant Townsend to round out the evening. He strikes me as a bright, clever young man that it won’t hurt you to be around. You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

Felicity felt her stomach sink, and her answer was less than enthusiastic. “Yes, Father.”

*******

Yancy sat on a barrel with his back to the tavern wall. He worked his knife over a whet rock on his leg with an occasional glance up. “Admit it. You had us take that deer to the general in hopes of getting close to that girl.”

Nathaniel, who crouched beside his friend, stopped fiddling with the piece of grass he had just plucked. “I did not.”

“Don’t try lying to me, Than; we’ve known each other way too long for that. I saw the way you watched her last night when she walked away with that new lieutenant.”

Nathaniel’s head yanked up. “I didn’t see you.”

Yancy grinned, and his motion stopped for a second. “That doesn’t mean I wasn’t there, as you above anybody should know.” The metal blade began to slide along the stone again. “You know, it was a bit addle headed of you to think that General Baddington would invite us into his quarters.”

“And what makes you think that was my intention?”

Yancy chortled. “After twelve years of friendship you should know better than to ask that.” He held the knife up and flipped his thumb across the blade then started it along the stone again. “Generally when you want a woman you just take her.”

Nathaniel ran the grass between his fingers. “This one is different.”

“So you admit that it is her. I was only guessing so thanks for telling me that I was right.”

Nathaniel gave him a cutting look then flung the grass away from him and jerked to his feet. “If you weren’t my blood brother…”

“I know, I know, you’d hang my hair from your belt.”

Nathaniel just watched him then reached out and slapped his friend against the shoulder. Yancy stopped and looked up then they both broke into robust laughter.

*******

After supper, Lieutenant Townsend and Felicity went out to enjoy the evening. She would have rather gone by herself, but her father had been insistent that she not go alone. Her eyes darted about the compound, and the words of her companion formed little more than a jumble.

His fingers tightened on her arm, and made her look. “He isn’t here.”

“Who isn’t?”

“That black-haired woodsman that you keep trying to catch sight of. It is a demeaning pursuit and a futile one. He is most likely at the tavern with a pint of ale in one hand and a serving wench in the other.”

Felicity felt a slow burn start at the base of her head. “Do you say such obnoxious things to all the women whose company you keep, or have I been singled out for that honor?”

The young man ducked his head. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, but what would your father say if he knew that his daughter was interested in a man as that one obviously is.”

“And what kind is that, pray tell me? Is it because he is what my father called a ‘rustic colonial’ or because his mother was an Indian? Please tell me what makes him so beneath my station, I would like to know. After all, his father was English, was he not?”

“Many of these people come from English stock, but as they live that is by no means a recommendation. Now please, let us not argue about it and spoil such a beautiful evening.”

She pulled away from him. “My evening has already been spoiled, thank you very much. Now if you do not mind, I wish you would take me home.”

“Miss Baddington, I shouldn’t have…”

“Leftenant, I am not in the habit of asking a thing twice, something I learned from my father, so please walk me home as I asked or I shall go without you.”

“Of course, but first you must do something for me.”

Felicity’s eyes narrowed as she brought the shawl up about her shoulders. “And just what might that be?”

“I desire that you please forgive my outburst. I assure you that I am not in the habit of speaking to a lady such as you in that fashion.”

“Very well, Leftenant.” Felicity, however, was still too angry to be polite about it. “You are forgiven, now please to take me home. And in future, I think it best that we no longer see one another socially. I understand that living within the confines of the stockade walls as we must shall throw us into unavoidable contact, so I think it best that we only speak to one another when wholly necessary.”

Felicity watched in silence as an aura of disappointment came over him, and she couldn’t help the malicious delight that it engendered.

As they headed back toward the general’s house, Gayle tried in vain to reignite the conversation, but she remained mute as a sphinx. In fact, she wouldn’t even look in his direction, so he gave up the effort.

*******

The interior of The Boar’s Head tavern came to life with the deep laughter and voices of its male patrons. A fire crackled in the large stone hearth and candles lit the room. Pewter mugs and pitchers thumped against tabletops, as platters of roasted wild turkey and pig satiated masculine appetites.

Serenity Peacock braced an elbow on the roughhewn bar and leaned her chin in her hand. Nathaniel’s gaze couldn’t help but set right on the cleavage of her ample bosom, but with his mind being elsewhere, he didn’t notice.

Yancy watched the handsome, flaxen-haired barmaid over the top of his mug as he took a healthy swig of his rum. “I’m afraid that you’re wasting your time tonight, Serenity. Of course, you can waste it on me any time that you want to.”

She reached out and dragged her fingertips along the side of Nathaniel’s face. “Can it be so bad?”

“To hear him tell it you would think it is.”

“Nathaniel.” She twisted a long, black strand about her fingers. “Won’t you talk to me?”

After a second, it dawned on Nathaniel where his eyes were focused, and they rose to the oval face across from his. Her soft smile took the edge off the conundrum that roiled around inside his head, and he lifted the mug to his lips. He took a good swallow then pulled the back of his hand over his mouth. “I wasn’t trying to ignore you.” He grinned. “No man in his right head would ever do that.”

“Well, then, maybe you will tell me what the problem is so I can help.” Her gooseberry green eyes flashed sideways. “Yancy refuses to.”

“I really don’t think there is anything you can do.”

“You won’t know if you do not tell me.”

“It’s nothing that would interest you.”

“I think I can decide that for myself.”

Nathaniel stared into his rum and just shook his head.

“Enough of this.” Yancy slammed his mug down. “Why don’t you just go ahead and tell her that you want to meet a girl?

The glare that Nathaniel gave him could have melted iron, and his knuckles blanched around his mug’s handle.

Serenity tittered. “Oh, is that all? There is nothing so complicated about that. Just take her like you always do.”

“I’m afraid that wouldn’t be advisable this time.” Yancy pushed his hat back with his thumb. “You see, Serenity, it’s not just any girl… it’s General Baddington’s daughter. Since he almost ran over her the other night, he hasn’t exactly been right. And this trying to figure out a way to just talk to her has been about to drive both of us insane.”

Nathaniel’s perfect mouth drew into a hard wad. “Yancy.”

With his free hand, Yancy took his knife from his belt and held out to his friend, haft first.

Nathaniel’s black eyes went to thin slit. “Don’t give me the temptation.”

Serenity took Nathaniel’s unoccupied hand and both of hers closed around it. “I am sure that the same heart that beats in all women beats in her, and all you must do is approach it.”

Yancy snorted. “And do it like a gentleman and not some buck deer charging its mate.”

Nathaniel’s eyes became like flint arrowheads but softened as they turned back to Serenity. “You know more about that sort of thing than I do, so maybe you could help me some.”

This time Yancy decided it best to keep his mouth shut. He had already pushed his luck as far as he dared, so he just nursed his rum while Serenity gave pointers to his friend. And he made sure that the mug muffled his snickers.

FOUR

Felicity’s legs had trouble keeping up with her father’s long stride, and her skirt threatened to trip her, but she wasn’t about to let anything deter her.

“Father, it has been four days since I arrived.”

“I am well aware of how long you have been here.”

“And per your orders I have not once ventured outside these walls.”

“Your mother hasn’t complained.”

“She would never do that, but Father, I cannot spend all my time here so confined. I think I should go mad.”

The general stopped and faced her. “My dear, I cannot go with you, and I have no men that I could spare at the moment, and I would never let you go alone.”

“I’ll go with her.”

Felicity looked around as the lean woodsman approached, and her turbulent pulse drummed in her temples.

The general’s gray-fringed eyebrows lowered into a skeptical scowl.

“I seem to find myself with nothing better to do,” a toothy grin flashed in her direction, “and I know this area as well as some and better than others.”

The general was well informed about this man’s attitude towards women. He had also heard about the man’s countless rendezvouses with the barmaid at The Boar’s Head, and other such dalliances. Even Indian women were not out of bounds, but then the man was half Indian himself.

“You have my word, sir, and I promise to be on my most gentlemanly behavior. I will treat her as I would my own daughter.” His hand rested on the hatchet that hung from his belt. “Nothing shall harm her even if I must lay down my own life for her protection.”

An uncertain father rubbed his chin. Whatever else he was, Nathaniel Cartwright had always proved to be a man of his word, and he had never given the general any cause to doubt it. He looked to his daughter, and the sun made her eyes glisten like sea blue pearls. “Very well. I see no harm in a short canter.”

The tingles started in Felicity’s toes and worked their way up. “Does this mean that you will let me go?”

“Yes, if your protector will promise that you shan’t go too far nor be gone more than half an hour.”

“You have my word, General Baddington. And it just so happens that I know of a spot that would keep us within sight of the fort.”

Felicity took her father’s hand and kissed the back of it then held it against her cheek. “Thank you, Father. Now I need to go get ready, and I shan’t be but fifteen minutes.” Her spirits soared light as a bubble, and her legs yearned to skip, but she held back on her delight as she walked away from them with dignity.

The general braced his fists on his hips. “That means at least an hour. I hope you have some activity to occupy your time with.”

One corner of Nathaniel’s mouth crooked into a partial grin. “I think I can find something.”

With nothing more than a nod, the general continued on to his office.

Nathaniel watched the girl until she disappeared inside her house. He looked forward to the ride. Since first seeing her, he had racked his brain for a way to introduce himself to this young woman, and here Providence had dropped the opportunity into his lap. It was true, that in the past women had always been there for his taking, but this one was different. This one was a fine English lady, and he wasn’t going to ruin this chance by acting like – as Yancy had put it – a buck deer charging its mate.

*******

The horses’ hooves scuffed over the dry dirt path and worked up miniscule puffs of dust. One could not wish or hope for a more fabulous day for a ride.

Nathaniel frowned. He still hadn’t figured out how any woman could be comfortable in a sidesaddle. He hadn’t seen many, just enough to convince him that they had been designed to keep women in line and subservient to man’s desires.

“How do you like our country?”

The rich voice sent gooseflesh along Felicity’s extremities. This was the first time it had been directed at her, and it caught her off guard. “I beg your pardon.”

“I asked how you like our country.”

Some of the rigidity eased from her spine, and she let her gaze roam about her. “I think it is marvelous. There is an untamed, wild beauty about it that can take away one’s breath. It is not at all like England.” She looked around at him. “I was told that your father was from England.”

“Yes, he was. He used to always tell me that he would like to go back some day with me. I never wanted to go, but I didn’t tell him that.”

“And what of your mother?”

“She was Cherokee, and my father loved her very much, but that is all I can tell anybody about her. She died when I was very young, and I hardly remember her. My father I don’t think ever really got over losing her.”

“And where is he now?”

“He died just as I reached manhood. Lung fever.”

“I am tremendously sorry. What did you do then, if I may be so bold as to ask?”

“You may. I went to live with my mother’s people, and it became one of the happiest events of my life, but then it doesn’t take much to please a fourteen-year-old man. But that is enough talk of me.” He shook his head. “I don’t usually tell so much about myself, but you just sort of make me not mind so much.”

She gave her head a demur bow.

“Has anybody ever told you that your hair is just the color of summer honey?”

“I have had people comment on my hair before, but never in as lovely a term.” She looked around at him, and the ardent light that burned deep in those pools of ebony sent a rush of heat to course through her. She gulped.

“I apologize for being so forward, Miss Baddington, but that’s what it reminds me of. If I upset you, it certainly wasn’t my intention.”

“Oh, no, I… I mean, no harm was done. And indeed, what woman would not be pleased by such a charming compliment. I thank you for it.”

For several minutes they rode on in complete silence, then, as they came to a bend in the path, something strange happened to him. Any other woman would have been his for the night, and he would have thought little of it in the light of the coming morning. With this one it wasn’t the same. He couldn’t explain why, but he knew something was there, whatever it may be. A light touch on the back of his hand brought him back to earth, and he found himself looking into those enticing eyes.

“I am glad that no one else was available to ride with me. I enjoy your company, Mr. Cartwright.”

Nathaniel’s heart thudded in his chest like a wild bird trying to escape from a cage. His mouth had pasty, and his tongue stuck to his teeth. What in all of creation was wrong with him? He cleared his throat. “And I enjoy yours as well.” He turned away so that he looked forward. “We’ll soon reach our destination.”

Felicity’s skin began to prickle in anticipation. “Can we go a little faster?”

“If you’d like.”

The horses moved into a brisk trot. A soft breeze played with the plume on her hat and brushed her cheeks like warm hands. The jouncing of her mount invigorated her, and the presence of her companion only added to the exhilaration. No matter how long she lived, this time she would never forget.

Water tinkled like tiny glass bells as it cascaded over rocks and splashed as if inhabited by playful sprites. Colorful wild flowers lined the banks of the small stream, and birds produced sweet music from the treetops. A rabbit bounded off into the thickets as the horses approached.

“Oh, what an utterly spectacular spot.”

Nathaniel dismounted and led both horses to the shade of a spreading oak tree. “I thought you would like it.”

He dropped the reins and stepped around then held his arms out to her. She untied her riding skirt, and he lifted her down. She was light as a sigh, and the mere touch of her made his breathing stagger. He was careful not to let their eyes connect lest she see something that would betray him. For a second he thought of doing what came natural, but the promise he had made to her father roared back, and he kept to his word.

Her skirt brushed over the ground as she strolled to the water’s edge. With a backward tilt of her head, she inhaled nature’s heady perfume and let it revitalize her body. “I could stay here all for the rest of my life, and never want for another thing. All I would need would be shelter, sustenance and someone to share it with.” She knelt and dipped her hand into the cold water and drank. “So sweet, as if it has been honeyed.” She lifted her gaze to the forest beyond and dried her lips with a dainty pat of her fingertips. “I have heard stories from those just back from the colonies, but they pale alongside actual experience.” A breath rushed in through her nose. “A grand house belongs here.”

Her mind was so flooded with the surrounding beauty that she didn’t notice how quiet he was. With her hands flat against the ground, she pushed herself to her feet and almost turned right into him. A gulp caught in her throat, and a hot flush wrapped about her like a stifling blanket. Her gaze traced over that perfect face, and she was too startled to say anything.

Nathaniel’s hands wadded at his sides. He had never wanted to touch anyone like he did her, but if he gave in and gathered into his arms it could kill what hadn’t even come to full life yet. This was something too valuable to endanger by rash actions.

Felicity opened her mouth, but nothing came out. A roar filled her ears, and her pulse pounded with mad abandon. And with this came a sense of understanding all muddled up in confusion. She tried again. “Mr. Cartwright, what is…? I mean, is something wrong?”

It took him almost a whole minute to answer her. “No, nothing is wrong.” His hand came up and hovered near her cheek then dropped again. “I think we should go back to the fort.” His eyes rose to the sky, but stayed for less than a second. “Your father said not to be gone too long.”

“Yyyyes, maybe you are right. He does worry so.”

He moved closer to her, and she thought she would stop breathing altogether. For what felt like an eternity, he just looked down at her, then took her by the arm and led her back to the horses. He helped her to mount, and the gentleness of his hands offset some of what she had heard others say about him. She didn’t care what anyone said; no one with such a tender touch could be what the soldiers called a ‘savage’.

Nathaniel climbed into the saddle then waited as she took the lead. His eyes never left the back of her head as they moved along the path. He had just entered into an experience that was new in all his twenty-seven years of life. No woman had ever drawn from him such feelings as she engendered, a need to protect, a need to hold, a need to possess, and, above all, a need to be loved and needed in return. He gave his horse a nudge to close the gap that had grown between the animals. And, as they rode, a certainty grew that she would indeed be his, only he didn’t know how or when.

FIVE

A brace of quail hung from Yancy’s hand and his musket he had propped against his shoulder as he made his way in the direction of the settlement. His eyes, however, stayed riveted on his friend who had become quieter in recent weeks, and not only that. Since the coming of the general’s daughter a month earlier, Yancy had noticed changes, some subtle, others not so much. For one, Nathaniel had begun tying his hair back with a long strip of leather. For another, he had replaced his fringed, buckskin shirt with a blue cloth one from the trade goods store in the settlement. Nathaniel was trying to appear civilized whether he realized it or not, and Yancy knew the reason why.

“When we get back to the settlement, I could use a mug of hot buttered rum.” Yancy glanced up through red, yellow and green leaves then looked back down in time to step over a fallen tree branch. “I saw another line of geese headed south this morning. I figure they’ll all be gone in another couple weeks. It isn’t that cold through the days yet, but…” His words stopped, and he frowned. “Than, have you heard a single word of what I’ve been saying? Than.”

A sharp gouge in Nathaniel’s ribs drew his attention around. He glowered at Yancy’s lowered musket. “How many times have I told you not do to that?”

“I’ve found it’s the best way to get your interest when your mind has left your head and roamed off somewhere, something it does a lot of these days.”

“I have a lot to think about.”

“I can imagine that you do. You know, keeping your distance from her isn’t the way to win her.”

“I talk to her.”

Yancy snorted. “Yeah, when she has you trapped.”

“And, anyway, who says I’m trying to win her?”

“I do. As many women as you’ve been around, she’s the only one that you haven’t, well, you know what I mean.” One eye became a slit. “Maybe it isn’t her. Has the general said something to you about it?”

“He doesn’t know, and neither does her mother. We’ve been careful.”

“So that’s why you’re so indifferent toward her in public, and she seems to only want to make small talk.” Yancy chortled. “I thought I saw the two of you slipping off to the creek the other day.”

Yancy found himself the object of those sharp eyes. “You say anything to anybody, Yancy…,”

“And you’ll hang my hair from your belt.” Yancy shook his head. “I thought after all this time that you knew me better than that.”

Nathaniel managed a half embarrassed smile, and rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Of course I do. I don’t know what made me even say such a thing.”

“I do.”

They studied each other as they continued on, then Yancy only nodded.

*******

Felicity untied her riding skirt from the saddle and eased to the ground. She led her horse to the tree and tethered him so that he could crop grass then turned to the babbling stream. Oh, how she wished Nathaniel was here with her. This most beautiful of spots always seemed more so when they were together. A breeze rustled in the changing leaves and it roused a budding hope that had sprouted in her.

She removed her plumed hat to allow the air to dry her sweaty scalp. A place as beautiful and peaceful as this could not be dangerous. Her father and Nathaniel had stressed more than once that she not come out in the wilderness alone, and she had always chafed at the stern advice. But here she wasn’t that far from the settlement, and if she turned around she could still see the fort off in the distance. Their over protectiveness brought a warm glow to her face to turn her cheeks pink. She loved them both very much, but she was a woman, and she could take care of herself whether they wanted to accept that fact or not.

Her feet moved over the earth with a light scuff, and she sat on a rock at the edge of the water. She placed her hat in her lap. For eighteen years – since she was five – her parents had groomed her for marriage to a man of wealth, high breeding and class. Her father had always shuddered at the thought of her marrying a soldier, even an officer. He had seen what it had been for his wife – the youngest daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Millington – and he didn’t want that for his daughter. Felicity’s mouth turned at the corners into a devious smile. She wondered how he would react if he knew that she had fallen in love with one of his colonial scouts, a rustic Colonial and woodsman. She laugh ed to herself. She knew how he would react, and she could almost hear his stentorian voice raised in objection after objection as he stalked back-and-forth, hands clasped behind his back. He wouldn’t allow it, and she knew it, so he must never know until it was too late for him to do anything about it.

Marriage was a compact to obtain money or property, to produce legitimate heirs or garner a title, and the lady never had a say. However, over the years, that had begun to change to some extent, and love to play a more important part. She knew that her parents had been the product of an arranged union to further his military career, but that a deep and abiding love had been the result. They were among the lucky ones. Felicity had witnessed, first hand, loveless marriages before, and it unnerved her to think of being caught up in one. She rubbed at a chill that danced along her arms. With Nathaniel that could never be possible. Tall, handsome, and virile beyond words, that he loved her she had no doubt, and she knew for certain that she loved him.

She looked to the sky as clouds floated overhead. A longing to see him and feel his arms around her and his warm, moist lips against hers in an ardent kiss grew tantamount to panic. Her eyelids lowered and sealed her into her own dark world. My beloved Nathaniel, she thought.

Serenity grabbed the bucket from the bench just outside the tavern’s front door. She couldn’t help but lose herself in such an exquisite day as this, and she didn’t even want to try not to. Her arms swung as if in a vain effort to keep up with her legs as she headed along the road that cut through the center of the settlement. People greeted her, and she returned their salutations with lively enthusiasm and cheer, but she never slowed down.

The bucket swung like a pendulum, and no one noticed as she left the settlement, and the comparative security it provided. If they had they would have warned against the advisability of it or an armed man would have gone with her. But they were too consumed with their own lives, and no one even saw her go.

Felicity took a deep breath and leaned forward from her perch to look at her reflection in the water. Here, away from where it came over the rocks, it was calmer and mirror-like with only an occasional ripple. When thoughtful moods struck her she liked to stare at her reflection, and lose herself in the recesses of her own eyes. She could see the clouds in motion behind her, and the branches if the immense oaks. Then something appeared above her head with a single ruff of hair across the top and eyes and… She whirled and her mouth opened, but a red hand capped over it, and a strong arm jerked her from the rock, and her hat went into the water. She fought him, but to no avail.

Serenity dropped the bucket – its fall deadened by the grass – and dashed behind the trunk of a massive oak. She watched in horror as the general’s daughter struggled with her captor. Then her blood ran to ice as five more men emerged from a dense thicket to join him. She wanted to run for help, but she knew that they would see her, and she didn’t dare scream or call out. Her fingernails dug into the bark, and she couldn’t look away.

One of the men, smaller and more wiry than the well muscled warriors, seemed to get a distinct pleasure from the young woman’s obvious fear, and fruitless resistance. He wore a floppy brimmed hat and high boots, and he looked more like a merchant than anything. For a long moment he watched the girl in her desperate struggles then spoke to the Indians and gave a wave of his hand. “Vite, vite!”

Serenity hadn’t understood his language, but she had heard it often enough to recognize it when she did. She felt so helpless as she watched them drag the frantic girl away to disappear like specters into the overgrowth.

After a second to make sure that they were really gone, she gathered her skirt and petticoats into her hands and took off along the path. She had to tell the general about his daughter.

Nathaniel and Yancy handed over the birds to the tavern keeper.

“Here you go, Cincinatis.” Yancy brought his rifle down from his shoulder. “There are enough here to feed a few hungry men, and you can expect me and Than to be two of them.”

“You come ahead, and it won’t cost you so much as a farthing, and neither will the rum.” The stocky auburn-haired man chortled. “It’s the least I can do for my two best suppliers of fresh meat.”

“Yancy! Nathaniel!”

The three men looked around to see a breathless Serenity Peacock as her legs wound her closer to them.

“Serenity, what is it?” Yancy said, as he caught her.

“They took her. They came right out of the trees and took her away.”

Cincinatis took a firm grip of her arm. “Took who, girl?”

“Miss Baddington.”

Nathaniel went white as the bark of a birch tree. He turned her to him. “Who took her?”

“Indians. They came out of the trees like smoke and took her away.” She had to stop long enough to catch her breath. “And there was a Frenchman with them.”

Nathaniel’s fingers tightened on her arms. “French? Are you sure?”

A mischievous glint filled Serenity’s eyes. “I have been with them enough to know when I hear one speak.”

“Why in the name of Creation would the French want that girl?”

Nathaniel and Yancy just looked at each other then turned to the tavern keeper.

Yancy spoke. “To get to the general.”

Hugh Baddington grabbed his sword and started for the door but Nathaniel seized his arm.

“Don’t try to stop me, Cartwright. They have my daughter.”

“We know that, sir.” Yancy came to stand beside his friend. “But your going off half cocked would only exceed in getting her killed.”

“Yancy’s right. We all know that they took her to force you into surrendering the fort as they have tried to do since you took command, but that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t kill her, especially if this happens to be Dulain.”

The general went as white as his wig. “Oh, Dear God, if it is Dulain, he will have her killed no matter what I do.”

“Then we’ll just have to make sure that they don’t get her back.”

The general grasped at once Nathanial’s meaning. “Yes, yes. I’ll have the men mustered at once.”

“No.”

“You will not keep from going after my daughter.”

“If it is Dulain that is exactly what he would hope you would do. No, you can do her better by staying here. And at that, Yancy and I alone can cover more ground faster and quieter. We can be on them before they can do anything about it. Too many would only cause what none of us want.” Nathaniel gave his a reassuring smile then left the office.

“Trust us, General.”

“It would appear that I have no choice”

“You do, but this way is best for your daughter.”

The general nodded. “Bring her back.”

“We will, or I don’t know Nathaniel Cartwright.” Then Yancy left as well.

The general just stood there and brought one hand to his face, and his shoulders shook. Then he threw his head back and opened the door. He must go tell Enid, and he would just as soon be run through with a saber. He went out.

SIX

The leather strap that bound her wrists got a hard tug and forced her to pick up speed. Her legs already ached from the relentlessness of the killing pace she found herself held to. If only she could sit down for a few minutes to rest, then the going maybe would be a little easier. But she was so frightened. In all her life she had never been so frightened, so frightened that it controlled every life’s process in her body. Were they being pursued yet, for she knew they would be when her father found out what had happened? A long breath made her shudder. Would it be her Nathaniel? Would he come for her? How she longed to see that fierce, dark face.

She glanced around just long enough to be jerked off her feet. She landed with a grunt and a sharp rock bit into her hip. A guttural voice assailed her as her arms were yanked upward. Then she heard the vile French and received a boot toe not so gently applied to her thigh.

She scrambled up without any assistance and found herself looking into that round, flushed face with its eyes that burned like hateful coals. If only she could lash out. Just one good slap to a ruddy cheek would be sheer delight, even if they killed her for it.

“Please let me go, or at least tell me why you are doing this.”

He answered her in his own language in such a manner that made her believe that he didn’t understand English, and she didn’t let on that she was fluent in French. And then he said something peculiar. “You are for Francois, and your father will know what I know.” Then, with a gesture of his arm, he whirled away from her. “Vite!”

The warrior that held the other end of the strap trotted ahead, and she found herself compelled to follow. Please come for me, my Nathaniel, my beloved, she thought. And the notion that he wouldn’t make it in time – for she knew that he would indeed come – came close to stopping her heart. Nathaniel.

*******

The two men moved through the forest like wraiths, muskets clutched in their fists. Yancy had trouble keeping pace with his friend, who kept several feet to the lead. Nathaniel ran like a driven man, and Yancy knew that he was. The general’s lovely daughter had captured his friend, body and soul, as no woman ever had before, and he knew that Nathaniel would fight anyone to the death to protect her, even if that death was his own.

Black eyes would now and again dart to the ground, and Yancy knew he was tracking their quarry. The instincts and traits that were so intrinsic to him, and the years he had spent with his mother’s people made him an excellent tracker. Yancy and others had often teased him about his abilities and accused him of being able to follow a gnat over a dry rock. However, many times those same abilities had saved lives or averted disaster. More than once they had been of great service to General Baddington, and the general appreciated and used that talent to full effect.

The thought of her in the hands of Claude Dulain, and the French’s Huron allies cut deep into him like a well honed blade. He could hope that it wasn’t Dulain, the general’s old enemy, but a tiny voice at the back of his head told him that it was. His grip tightened on the musket, and his legs drove harder. That Dulain would kill her, regardless of what the general did, was not a mere stretch of the imagination. The hatred between the two men had been fomented over a year ago, and now Dulain had it in his power to inflict such pain and grief upon General Baddington as he had never known. He would have the Huron kill Felicity with all the brutality that they were capable of, and take great pleasure in watching. Nathaniel cursed under his breath and damned Claude Dulain to perdition. He ran faster.

*******

Hugh Baddington stood upon the parapet, his gaze directed beyond the walls and the settlement, his arms held behind his back. Helplessness had never been a feeling that he had handled well, and now was no exception. He knew – or at least, he hoped – that he had done the right thing in letting Cartwright and Scoggins go alone. They were both able and competent, and they had never given him reason to believe otherwise.

“General.” Baddington looked around as Lieutenant Townsend came forward to stand beside him.

“Leftenant Townsend, I thought you were still out beyond the settlement.”

“I have only just this moment returned.” His expression gave away his upset. “One of the men told me what… what has happened. If only I had been here, I would have gone myself.”

“I know that, Lentenant.” The general forced a shadow of a smile, and slapped the young officer on the arm. “But it is best this way.”

“Do you trust these rustic colonials so much?”

“Not as a rule, but these two I do. If not for them as scouts, much valuable information may not have reached me in time to act upon.”

“But do you trust them with the life of your daughter?”

The general winced. “I have entrusted them with my own, and this is no different. Once you have been here for a while, and get to know them, you’ll understand.”

“Begging the general’s pardon, and please forgive me for being so bold, but I would have thought that you would have gone with them.”

“Don’t for a second think that I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t risk that my presence could cause her harm.” The general bristled. “And it does not matter whether you or anyone else understands or not.”

Townsend snapped to. “Forgive me, General, I was out of line. It shan’t happen again.”

By this time, though, the general had retreated back into his own world. He rested his hands along the jagged top of the wall and resumed his stare toward the forest. His eyes closed, and the darkness comforted him. Please let them find her in time, he thought.

*******

Felicity stumbled and fell for what must have been the third or fourth time, but the warrior who held the leather strap continued to walk, and she found herself being drug. But even the pain in her arms didn’t matter as long as she slowed them down. Anything that would delay their return with her, no matter how trivial, would allow anyone in pursuit to gain ground on them.

An epithet in throaty French assaulted her ears, but she made no attempt to change her position or get up. Then the dragging stopped.

Harsh hands grabbed her, and jerked her without mercy or the slightest touch of tenderness to her feet. A sharp slap made her cheek sting and rattled her senses.

“Do not think, mademoiselle that I do not know what you are trying to do. So if you fall one more time I will have one of my Huron kill you in a most unpleasant way.”

She continued the pretense that she didn’t understand him, but inside her blood froze in her veins.

He gave her a vicious shove away from him then returned to the head of the group.

She managed a fleeting glance back before the relentless pace continued, but she saw nothing save for the trees they had just passed through, and her spirits sank even lower. For the first doubt crept into her mind, and the idea that her time in this world would soon come to an end invaded her mind. She had never been one to just give up, but the stark reality of a thing could have a sobering effect on anyone.

The warrior moved into a lope, and it forced her to do the same. She tried to keep up, and wasn’t doing bad until she got wound up in her skirt and petticoats and again fell.

She tried to get up, but with her arms pulled above her head she just couldn’t. Then she saw those eyes. She could no longer keep her knowledge of his language a secret. “Please, I didn’t mean to. My dress tripped me.”

“So, what else have you been keeping from me, mademoiselle?”

“Nothing, I promise.”

A sadistic smile curved his thin lips as his gaze traced along her supple body to stop at her legs. He took his knife from his belt, and Felicity knew she would soon die. A scream erupted from her without encouragement, but the back of his hand cut it short. A thin trickle of blood ran from the corner of her mouth, and she just lay there in a quivering heap as he cut the skirt from her dress.

Nathaniel and Yancy stood still as the trees that surrounded them. The woman’s scream had carried on the crisp air to stop them in their tracks. They didn’t even appear to breathe as they listened, but all was silent.

Nathaniel turned to Yancy and motioned forward then they were off again, the sense of urgency increased.

It took them fifteen or so minutes to reach a clearing. Nathanial bent to pick up the pile of cloth, which turned out to be part of a woman’s dress and several petticoats. As his hands clenched around the fabric, a rage that burned white hot ran along his spine and ignited his brain with a bloodlust that only on thing could quench. His eyes ran about him, but he saw no sign of death.

In an instant they were moving again, with greater alacrity than before. They were very close now, and nothing short of their killing would stop them. Only one thing Nathaniel Cartwright wanted almost as much as to get his love back safe and sound, and that was to bury his hatchet deep into that detestable Frenchman’s head.

SEVEN

The small party moved through a good sized clearing bordered to one side by a large stream. Before long they would reach their destination, and Claude Dulain would have his foe where he had dreamed all these long nights of having him. For you, Francois, he thought.

One of the warriors that had been at the rear came forward. In a low voice, and in Dulain’s own language, he spoke to the Frenchman. Dulain’s eyes ran back, and he ordered them to stop. He watched and listened. The Huron had always proved reliable in the past, and if they said they were being followed, he had no reason not to believe them. He stood there for a second longer then he grinned and gave a muted order.

Felicity was grateful for the respite, as it would allow her to catch her breath and build some strength for the rest of the journey. With a suddenness that caught her off guard, from behind someone forced her onto her knees. Tiny pebbles cut the bare flesh, but she didn’t have time to concern herself with it. Steel fingers wound in her hair, and jerked her head back. A tomahawk rose over her. Her time had come to die.

She screamed. A shot rang out. Blood splattered her. The warrior dropped.

With a whoop that would have made the Cherokee proud, Nathaniel shot from the trees. Yancy stopped long enough to get off a shot, and another warrior fell with a mortal wound. He then grabbed his weapon as one would a club – heedless of the hot barrel – and waded into the fray.

Felicity gaped at the gory pulp that, a moment ago, had been the man’s head. He would have killed her. He was going to kill her if… She tore her eyes from that horrid sight, and what she saw made a breath catch. “Nathaniel!”

He didn’t hear her as he grappled with one of the remaining warriors. He had seen what they had intended for the woman he loved, the woman he now knew that he could never live without, and he fought like a man possessed. She would be avenged for the atrocities forced upon her, and he would finish with this one. The warrior thrust at him with his knife, but Nathaniel sidestepped. The hatchet came from his belt, and he deflected the next deadly swipe. The warrior lunged, but Nathaniel parried. Then, in one swift movement, his foot telescoped out, and the Indian’s feet were knocked from under him. He fell. Nathaniel landed on top of him and dispatched him with a lethal blow from his hatchet. By that time, however, the frenzy of battle and the thirst for reprisal had seized him, and he continued to hack away at the body. Blood spurted with each wound he inflicted and sprayed over him, but in his mindless fury he had become impervious to it.

Felicity wanted to scream, but it lodged in her throat. She couldn’t look from the gruesome spectacle that played out before like some macabre theatrical production. With each blow of the hatchet, her stomach lurched, yet she seemed mesmerized, and in awe of the beast that she loved. With a shudder, she forced her eyelids together to shut it all out.

From the dark someone raised her arms. With a start she looked up into the face of Yancy Scoggins. A quick slice of his knife and the bonds fells from her wrists and some of the feeling began to return to her hands.

“Are you all right, Miss Baddington?”

At first, only her mouth worked and nothing came out. “Yes…, they, I mean, I wasn’t…” Her head lowered and again she closed herself off in blackness.

“Felicity.”

Her eyes set on the scarlet stained hand held out to her, and she began to tremble with uncontrolled fright. “Don’t touch me.” She looked up into the blood spattered face and anger roiled into her already upset emotions. “Don’t touch me with those bloody, brutal hands.” She turned back around. “Please, Mr. Scoggins, take me home.”

“Of course we will. But I think you should clean up at the stream first Your father would have an attack if he saw you this way.”

She rubbed her hand over her face, and it came away red. I’m not going to cry, she thought. I won’t.

Yancy assisted her to stand, and her legs wanted to buckle. Nathaniel reached out and took her arm to help steady her, but she recoiled. “I don’t need your help, so please do as I said, and don’t touch me.”

When she attempted to walk on her own her legs gave way beneath her, and she fell against Yancy. She hid her face against shoulder. He started to pick her up, but she pushed herself back.

“No, I can walk.” She forced a weak smile. “But please stay close.”

“All right. Than, let’s get those muskets loaded.” Yancy saw something new in those raven eyes, something that he feared would change Nathaniel forever. “Than.”

But Nathaniel only stood there as if his mind were miles away from where he stood.

“Than, we need to load the muskets.”

Without even so much as a nod of acknowledgement, Nathaniel went to retrieve the weapons.

Yancy’s gaze stayed on his friend, who moved like a man encased in thick, cold molasses, and now he knew what he didn’t want to. Nathaniel’s transformation had been completed and – with or without this woman – he would never be the same man again.

******

Their passage flushed a bird from a thicket, and Nathaniel’s head snapped around as the musket came into play. He wasn’t so utterly lost, not yet, at any rate. He looked down at the dried blood that covered the blue fabric of his shirt. Before they had set out, Nathaniel had cleaned his face and hands at the stream, and it gave him a reason to be close to her that she couldn’t object to. He wanted Felicity to see that he was no longer the same blood smeared savage from before, but only so much could be washed away.

He had never wanted anything as much as he wanted to make this woman his own to love, protect and honor as any man should his wife. Through his violent actions, however, and need for vengeance – he feared he had only succeeded in driving her from him. Since they had started out, she hadn’t looked at him, not once. The notion that she could never look at him again without feeling revulsion thought to drive him mad. Of course, he could take her as he always had, but it could never be as he wanted it to be between them if he took her against her will. Felicity Baddington was a strong minded young woman, and if she decided not to love him, there wasn’t a thing he could do to alter that.

Felicity’s legs moved like the automatic mechanism of a clock, and more from years of repetition. Her fingers clutched about the fabric of the petticoat. Mr. Scoggins had picked it up for her on the way back so she wouldn’t be so exposed, but that was the least of her concerns. A heavy sigh shook her lissome frame, and she kept her eyes set straight ahead. She couldn’t look at him, not after she had seen what he was capable of. In the short time that she had known Nathaniel Cartwright, she had never had cause to fear him…, until now. But that wasn’t even the entire reason for why she couldn’t bare to look at him. No, the real reason and the main part to the equation was her. It all came about because of her, so, in her mind, she had brought out the monster in him. Her teeth clamped and the muscles in her jaws bunched. Maybe it was for the best that she found out about him now, before their relationship went any further. No one, however, not even her parents, could make her believe that some part of her didn’t still love him, and that hurt her worst of all.

A rock rolled under her foot, and she started to pitch forward. From nowhere a hand steadied her, and she felt the warm body behind it pressed against her. Her eyes came around and connected with the black ones that she had so loved. Though the dark skin around them had been cleansed of the blood, she still saw it splashed in their brooding depths. She pulled away from him, and set her focus forward again and continued on.

Yancy, his musket held in front of him, watched the two people ahead of him. He and Nathaniel had known each other since they were both thirteen, and the following year they had become blood brothers. They had been through much together – both good and bad – and had never let the other down. They were brothers, and, after a succession of different women over time, it had done Yancy good to see his dearest friend at last find what he believed to be the right one. Yet with one act of violence, that had all come to an abrupt end, maybe for all time.

*******

Enid Baddington stood before the fireplace, her eyes cast downward into the dormant hearth. A lamp on the mantle – along with another on the table by the front door – held back the dusky gloom that pervaded the main room. Evening’s chill had begun to settle in, but she appeared not to even be aware of it.

“I think I should set a fire.”

Enid, however, never moved or answered, and her gaze stayed riveted to the charred logs. From behind, gentle hands rested on her shoulders then turned her around. The strong, chiseled features of her husband belied the tenderness that he had always shone her when they were alone, and now it spoke from his clear gray eyes.

“We will have our daughter back.”

“There has never been a lie between us. Please, Hugh, do not start with one now.”

He caressed her cheek with the touch of a loving husband then held her chin in both hands. “I would never do that. We must believe and affirm with our faith in God that our Felicity will be delivered safely back into our care.”

He pushed her head against his chest and enfolded her in his arms. From the first night of their marriage, she had always felt safe in this sanctuary, even before their love had bloomed to bless their union.

A knock sounded at the door, and Enid almost jumped from her husband’s hold. He reassured her with his hands but never spoke then went to answer it.

“Yes, Sergeant Mayhew.”

“Sir, the scouts have returned, and they have your daughter with them.”

“Thank you, Sergeant. Mayhew.”

“Yes, sir.” The young man saluted then, once he had gotten one in return, he left.

The general closed the door and turned to his wife, who had come up behind him. “Enid, I want you to stay here.”

“I must go to her, I must…”

“No, Enid, I will bring her to you. Now stay here, my dear.”

With reluctance she agreed. He drug his fingers along the side of her face then went out.

General Baddington had just stepped into the compound as the huge gates swung open. Three familiar figures entered, and the one in the middle seemed so small and frail. As they drew closer, an internal fire built into a fierce conflagration as he became more and more aware of what had been visited upon and daughter. Her feet drug over the ground as if too heavy to lift. From the waist down she wore only a single petticoat, and dried blood splattered the front of what remained of her dress.

“Felicity.”

Yancy cradled his musket in his arms as one would an infant. “They didn’t hurt her, but it was through Providence that we got to her when we did.”

The general understood the meaning, and hatred swelled within him. “Was It Dulain?”

Yancy nodded. “But he slipped away into the trees while we were busy. He got away from us again.”

“His time will come, and if the fates are kind, I will be the instrument of his demise. But I don’t care about him now.” He raised the girl’s face to him. “You’re home now, and you’re safe.”

“Father.”

All at once, Felicity began to sink. Her father swept her into his arms, and held her close as he had many times when she was a child. “Thank you, gentlemen. You will always have the undying gratitude of me and Mrs. Baddington, and I shall always be in your debt.”

A harsh, uncompromising light glistened in Nathaniel’s eyes. “I’m only sorry I didn’t kill Dulain.”

“That will happen in good time. Now I must get her to her mother.”

The general went inside, and a breathless cry reached them before the door closed behind him.

“Hear me, Yancy. I promise that I will kill Claude Dulain if he does not kill me first.”

Yancy clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I do, my friend. I do.”

EIGHT

Felicity looked up from her perch in the delicate chair. Her mind wasn’t on the book in her lap, so she didn’t object to the interruption. Whoever stood on the other side of the door knocked again. “Please come in.”

Her mother entered with a tray covered by a white cloth. Enid’s eyes caught on the book. “Now I see why you forgot the noon meal.”

“Oh, did I? I hadn’t noticed.” She placed the small leather bound volume open upside down on the table beside the candlestick. “I still don’t feel so very hungry.”

“Whether you are or not, you should eat. After all, how can you keep up your strength by starving yourself?” Enid sat on the side of the bed, and patted the mattress. “Come sit beside me.”

With refined ease, Felicity pulled herself from the chair, and did as her mother asked.

Enid pulled the cloth away to reveal a plate of tantalizing food, and a glass of milk. “I had your father send one of the soldiers into the settlement for this. They say the food from the tavern is quite good. And while you eat, we can sit here and had a nice talk.” She put the tray in her daughter’s lap.

“I really don’t want to talk.”

“You haven’t for the past three days.” She picked up the fork and closed the girl’s right hand around it. “Now eat while it is still hot.”

Felicity just stared at the sliced meat and roasted root vegetables. She had to admit that it did smell delicious enough to make her mouth water, and maybe she was a little hungry.

Enid sat in silence and watched as Felicity cut a demure bite from the succulent meat. Then she waited until her daughter had made a good dent in the food before she spoke. “It must be very good.”

“It is. The tavern’s reputation is well deserved.” She took a sip of the milk then gave her mouth a dainty pat with the napkin. “And I must concede that I am quite famished.”

“Then eat every bite of it.”

Felicity gave her mother a smile, and cut a piece from a parsnip. “Where is Father? I have seen little of him since…,” She went motionless for a second, and some of her relish for her meal appeared to have diminished a bit when she started again.

“You know that the duties of an officer in this wilderness occupies much of his time. And we as women have no right to demand more of his attention. This, however, does not mean that he loves us any the less.”

“I know that. Mother?” She looked up from the tray. “Do people believe that I was…, that those that took me…? Do they believe that I am no longer…?”

“No, dear.” She grazed her hand over the girl’s cheek.

“Then why do they seem to avoid me?”

“My dear, you are the one doing the avoiding. Since you were brought home you have seldom left this room, and when you do you hardly speak, and you never go outside.” She lifted her daughter’s chin with a finger. “But I think it is not your father that it frets you so that has not come or even asked after you. Though I have said nothing, I have noticed how you brightened when Nathaniel Cartwright was present.”

The fork struck the pewter plate with a metallic clink.

“Yes, I know. It is always easiest for a woman in love to see when another woman comes under the same spell. And you needn’t worry that I won’t keep your secret.”

“I don’t.” She began to push a piece of carrot around the plate with her fork. “Mother, when did you realize that you loved Father?”

“The night that you were born, and he held you for the first time. All the pretences of a stern soldier fell away, and I knew that I was deeply in love with him.”

“Does it feel that you desire to be with him every waking moment of your life, and a hollowness that pervades your spirit when he is absent from you?”

“Very much so. And I know that Mr. Cartwright does feel the same. I know, for I have seen it in him.”

Felicity’s head dropped. “No, he does not. For three days he has not once paid me a call or even asked after me. Father says that he has not even come into the fort since I was returned. Mr. Scoggins does, but not Nathaniel. Either his love for me has faded away or he believes something dreadful and vile of me.”

“And what could that be? What could you have done that could foster such a thought in him?”

After several seconds, Felicity’s spine went rigid, and her head flew back as if she had been stuck a blow, then she turned a blanched face to her mother. She gasped, and both hands capped over her mouth.

“Felicity, what is it?”

Felicity’s hands clutched together at her heaving bosom. “When he and Mr. Scoggins found me, Nathaniel burst from the trees like a wild animal. He fought and killed one of the Indians, and then he…” Her eyes floated in a sea of tears, and ran over her mother’s face as if in search of an answer. “I have never witnessed anything so vicious and terrible. He took his hatchet and… Over and over until he was quite covered with blood, he hacked at the man he had killed until he was unrecognizable as a human being or anything that had ever been alive.” A tiny whimper left her. “Then Nathaniel came and reached out to me.” Her lips began to tremble. “I was heartless to him, Mother. I told him not to touch me with his bloody, brutal hands.”

“Dear, that was a perfectly comprehensible reaction under the circumstances, and I am quite sure he knew that.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you had seen his eyes. The life went right out of his eyes. I can see them so plainly now, so empty and so hurt.” Her tears broke their confines and trickled down her cheeks. “He did it all because of me, and when he came to me I cursed him and turned from his solace. Oh, Mother, I’m dreadful. No wonder he never comes to see me or even cares. I spurned him in the cruelest way, and after he gave me my life back. He hates me, and I cannot blame him.”

The tray crashed into the floor as Felicity flung her arms about her mother, and her anguished sobs rose to the ceiling. Enid’s soft voice and patting hand attempted to soothe, but neither to any avail.

*******

Nathaniel tore off the dark green shirt – another concession to civilization – and gave it a fling. He jerked the tie from his hair and it sailed off to disappear among the rough trunks. Then, with a wild whoop, he started to run, not to any place specific, just in the opposite direction to the settlement.

Oxygen and blood pumped through his body as his long, sinuous legs propelled his through the woods. The musket, clutched in his hand, bobbed at his side. His love denied may have pushed his over some invisible line, but he hadn’t lost control of all his reasoning. To be caught out here unarmed would be tantamount to committing suicide, and he hadn’t been driven to that point yet.

Sweat glistened against the surface of his dark skin in the sunlight that broke through the trees. There weren’t as many leaves as there had been through the summer, so its passage wasn’t so hampered. His hair fluttered in the breeze to remind one of the wings of a raven, and his eyes were like small chips of coal.

At an early age he had been taught to control his breathing, so, though he was winded, it wasn’t so that anyone would notice. An elk dashed off, and it didn’t escape his attention, but it wasn’t enough to slow him down.

Yancy came to a stop, and the first thing to catch his eye was the green shirt in a disarrayed heap on the ground. He looked about him and listened, his musket cradled against his chest. This wasn’t new, it had happened before, and this time he knew why. When things went awry, Nathaniel’s Cherokee half needed to be appeased, and the wildness that resided within him quelled. Yancy would wait, as he always did.

Nathaniel didn’t know how long he had been running when he returned to his starting point. He never kept track, and this time was no exception.

“I thought I’d find you out here. If ever there was a thing you needed to run off, I knew this was it.” Yancy picked up the shirt and held it out. “You dropped this.”

Nathaniel snapped it away from him. “I didn’t drop it.”

“Well, you’d better put it back on before you give yourself pneumonia.”

Nathaniel thrust his musket at his friend. “Hold this.” He took the shirt and began to dry his wet skin.

“Did it help?”

Nathaniel ran the shirt over his broad, smooth chest, and flat, well muscled stomach. “Not this time. I guess there are just some things you can’t run off.”

“You know, staying away from the fort and her isn’t going to change anything. What happened happened, and there’s nothing to make it go away.”

“Maybe not, but I won’t force her to be around me when she feels the way she does.”

“Oh, all of the sudden you know what other people feel. Than, she’s a city girl, used to genteel ways and gracious manners, and this all came as a hard blow to her. She was kidnapped, about to be killed, and she saw a side to life out here I don’t think anybody could be ready for, especial a girl.”

“You mean she saw a side of me.”

“Than,” he grasped his friend’s arm, “you have never been ashamed of what you are, don’t start now. If she can’t love all that there is about you, then she isn’t the right one and never was. But you won’t know if you don’t at least go talk to her. It may be uncomfortable for both of you, but you can’t go through the rest of your days like this, and neither can she.”

Nathaniel slid his arms into the sleeves, and the garment draped over his square shoulders. For the first time he felt the autumnal chill, and he began to button up. “I don’t think she’ll see me.”

“You won’t know if you don’t try, my friend.” The corners of Yancy’s eyes crinkled as a smile touched them. “My brother.”

Nathaniel fastened the beaded belt that held his hatchet about his waist then turned his attention to Yancy. He said nothing, shrugged then took his musket. Yancy gave him a swat, and his smile broadened into a wide, toothy grin.

NINE

Nathaniel and Yancy had taken no more than a few steps when they became aware of a collection of sounds not native to the forest. The rattle of accoutrements, the clatter of wheels, and the tramp of feet melded together to form a cacophony that forced itself upon a man’s hearing.

Without hesitation, they moved forward down the slope that ended with the line of trees. What greeted them in the valley below was enough to send a chill through any loyal Englishman. A line of French troops, skirted on each side by Huron allies, moved at a steady pace, oblivious to the fact that they were being observed.

At the head of the column were two mounted officers, resplendent in their blue uniforms. As they drew closer, it became quite apparent who the one on the white horse was. Nathaniel and Yancy looked at each other, and the latter mouthed the name ‘Dulain’.

It didn’t take a scholar to figure out where they were headed. This back course would take them in a meander right to Fort Fidelity. However, dragging a cannon along a longer route, as they were, this would give Nathaniel and Yancy plenty of time to get there first.

With a mutual nod, they began to slip back in among the trees, but bark splintered from the trunk Yancy had just passed as a musket cracked. They had been spotted.

There wasn’t time to scramble up the slope, and the effort would expose their backs to the enemy so they took off along the edge of the drop off. Bullets continued to strike the trees and spatter through the leaves to cut a clump free now and again. Nathaniel and Yancy, weapons clutched in their fists, didn’t slow down.

A bullet whistled through the air and Yancy felt a sting as it ran a path across his arm. Few things made him angrier that to get shot at and even worse to get hit. He wanted to return fire, but a cooler head prevailed, and he stayed close behind Nathaniel.

The French officers shouted orders, and the troops continued to powder away at the two men at they ran through the trees. Whoops and shrieks would rise up from the Huron, and it had an effect on the young soldiers.

In spots the ground was slick with fallen leaves that would slide beneath a man’s feet, but still Nathaniel and Yancy kept running without a lessening of their pace. They couldn’t afford the luxury and neither could Fort Fidelity.

The young soldiers by now were well fired up by the war cries of the Indians, and seemed to take great sport in it. The officers, however, saw it not as a lark, but as a necessity to stop those two men. If they got back and told of what they had seen, the surprise attack would come as no surprise.

Yancy’s foot went from under him before he had the chance to do anything about it. He slid toward the edge, the musket still clutched in his hand. There wasn’t time to shout or do a thing but try to grab onto something.

Nathaniel looked around just as Yancy’s legs went into space. With a speed that often elicited compliment as well as awe, he lunged forward and grabbed his friend’s hand. Yancy still hung onto his musket.

“There’s no time, Than, you have to get back! You have to warn the fort!”

“We will!” Nathaniel braced his foot against a tree trunk and began to tug. “Come on, Yancy!”

Yancy had to let go of his gun. It started to slide away, but a rock stopped it. He clawed at the ground with his free hand, and his legs flailed in an attempt to get a purchase. Bullets zinged around them like incensed hornets, but Nathaniel wouldn’t give up.

Nathaniel braced his other foot and gave a hard yank. He flopped back hard against the ground, and Yancy almost landed on top of him.

Yancy grabbed his musket. “All right, let’s get outta here!”

Nathaniel just lay there, and his breath came in hard pants. He shook his head, then got his legs under him and took off behind Yancy.

The firing from below hadn’t abated, though it did slow as weapons were reloaded after each shot.

Nathaniel and Yancy were still getting peppered as the ducked behind a pile of rocks. A shot took off a chip of stone, but it did no harm. They were safe, at least for now.

Adrenalin pumped through Yancy Scoggins and drove him forward. As close calls went, this one ranked near the top. He had lost track of time. How long had they been running since their narrow escape? And he hadn’t even looked back.

From behind him came a thud, accompanied by the crinkle of dead leaves, and a faint grunt. He turned.

“Nathaniel.”

His friend lay on the ground, the musket still in his hand. His chest rose and fell, so he wasn’t dead. Yancy rushed back, and dropped onto his knees beside him. A dark, shiny patch covered the side of the green shirt. Yancy touched it, and his fingers came away wet and stained red. He undid one of the buttons and looked inside. Nathaniel had been shot.

“Nathaniel.”

“I’m here.”

“We have to get outta here before they get a chance to catch up with us.”

“No…, you go on. I would only hold you back.”

“Oh, no. You wouldn’t leave me, and now it’s my turn not to leave you.”

“Yancy, the fort…,”

“Will find out when we get back. Now get up. I’ll help you.”

“No.” He shoved Yancy’s hand away. “You don’t need to be dragging me along. So go.”

The sound of distant voices in French caused Yancy to glance around.

“All right, we’ll fight them off together, but I’m not leaving you here.” Yancy’s eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t know what to tell her.”

“She wouldn’t care.”

“Maybe not, but I would, and if you don’t care about yourself I do. A Cherokee wouldn’t just give up.”

The voices drew closer.

“All right, but if you have to you leave me.”

“We’ll see.”

Nathaniel hung onto his gun as he and Yancy struggled to get him up. Yancy put an arm around his friend’s waist, careful of the wound. The voices drew even closer as they moved off through the trees.

With each step, Nathaniel’s feet drug more and more. The toes of his moccasins scuffed trough the fallen leaves. He clung to Yancy, and exerted a force over himself to keep moving. Sharp pain ran through his side and along his back, but he kept the agony concealed. No one had to tell him that he couldn’t make it all the way back to Fort Fidelity. If this had happened before Felicity had turned from him, he would have made it on his hands and knees. Now, however, he just didn’t care.

He planted his feet and stopped both of them. “I can’t do it, Yancy. You need to go on without me.”

Yancy’s face reddened and it heightened the color of his eyes. “It’s that girl.”

“Don’t blame her.”

“Who else can I blame? The Nathaniel Cartwright I’ve always known wouldn’t give up this way.”

“Yancy, listen to me…. You need to get to the fort and warn them, and I’m only holding you back. There’s no time to worry about me. Just prop me against a tree and cover me with leaves then get going.”

“Nathaniel.”

“Do as I say. If you’re truly my friend you will.”

Yancy opened his mouth to speak, but the crunch of someone’s approach kept him silent. They moved around and hunkered behind a tree, and their long guns came into play. As they watched relief splashed over their faces, and their weapons’ barrels lowered.

“John Royal,” Yancy rasped as he came out from behind the tree.

The big scraggly-bearded man stopped, and the horse he led came to a halt behind him. His hand wrapped around the haft of the large skinning knife in its scabbard on his hip, and his keen eyes probed through the trunks. “Show yourself.”

“I intend to.” Yancy emerged from the gloom.

Some of the tension left Royal’s body. “Yancy. Are you out here alone?”

“No, Than’s with me, and he’s been shot.”

Royal’s already craggy features became more so. “Who?”

“We ran across some French troops and Huron a way back. They’re headed for Fort Fidelity. They’ve got a cannon, and they’re being led by Dulain.”

Royal spat out a curse, and his fist tightened on the animal’s lead rope. “He’d love nothing better than to get the fort away from the general, and he wouldn’t care to kill our women and children to do it.”

“And that’s why we need to get Than on your horse and get out of here. They’re right behind us.”

“Take me to him.”

When Yancy and John Royal got to him, Nathaniel bordered on passing out. Between them, they got him onto the back of the horse on top of the soft pelts. More movement back in the trees told them that they were about to get caught. Yancy took Nathaniel’s musket, and leaned his friend over against the animal’s neck. The lean bay turned, and Royal led him away. Yancy stayed close at his friend’s side just in case Nathaniel started to fall.

Yancy’s eyes flicked behind him, and he thought he caught a glimpse of blue cloth and a feather or two. The French and Huron were right behind them, and their chances of escape diminished with the passage of each second. But he knew some tricks, and so did the big trapper, so they weren’t done yet. He looked to Nathaniel and got a feeble nod. No, sir, they weren’t done yet.

TEN

At the sound of the commotion outside, General Baddington stepped from his office. The sight that greeted him sent icy darts into him, and his breathing quickened as he ran across the compound.

Yancy and John Royal had just gotten Nathaniel off the horse as the general reached them. “What’s happened?”

Nathaniel winced as the two men held him up. “The French are coming…. We saw them moving along the back way here.” He pressed his hand against the wound, and blood seeped between his fingers. “Unfortunately, they saw us, too.”

The general bucked himself up. “How many?”

Yancy’s grip tightened on his friend. “We didn’t have time to sit and count, but I’d guess twenty-five, maybe thirty, and about as many Huron. And, general, that’s not all, they’ve got a cannon.”

Baddington cursed. “Is it Dulain?”

Nathaniel grunted and fought to stay upright. “He’s leading them.” His legs started to go.

The general called over two soldiers and had them take the wounded man to what had been his old quarters.

“General, we can’t hold them off.”

“Don’t you think I am well aware of that, Mr. Scoggins?”

“What about the garrison at Fort Victory?”

Yancy gave the big trapper a smack. “I could get there and back in two days.”

“You could make it in less time than that with my horse.”

“Then by all means, Mr. Scoggins, draw what you need and start with all haste.”

“Yes, sir, general. Come on, John, I’m going to need your help.”

The general stood there as they went back out with the horse. He cursed again and turned toward his house. Why had he brought his wife and daughter out here?

When Felicity left her bedroom, her mother stood at the window in the main room. She made the girl think of a marble statue, she was so still. “Mother.” She reached out and touched her, but got no recognition, and followed her gaze but saw nothing out of the ordinary. “I thought I heard Father.”

“You did.” Enid looked around at her. “It would seem that the French are on their way here, with Captain Dulain at their head.”

Felicity felt a chill run down the nape of her neck at the thought of that loathsome man. “Is he certain?’

Enid nodded. “The scouts ran across them, and were fired upon.”

Any hint of color drained from Felicity’s face, and her hands wrung together at her petite waist. “Nathaniel was here, and he didn’t even come to see me? Do you know where he is now?”

Enid took a firm hold of her daughter’s arms. “Your father had him taken to the old quarters…. He has been shot.”

Felicity’s head reeled and cold formed at the core of her. “He isn’t…?”

“No, dear, but your father said that he is grievously hurt.”

“Mother, I must go to him, and please don’t try to stop me.”

Enid placed a gentle hand aside her daughter’s face. “We will go.”

When the Baddington women left their house the people from the settlement had begun to flood the stockade, so they went unnoticed in the bedlam. As they drew closer to the small cabin, Felicity could feel a twisting in her stomach and a hard knot grew in her chest. If not for her mother, she would have flown to his side like the swiftest bird in the forest.

The door made a thin creak on its hinges as it opened, and the doctor turned to them. Felicity’s eyes, however, went straight to the cot before the crackling hearth. Her heart beat so hard that it thought to asphyxiate her, and she had to hold back the urge to cry out his name.

“I have done all I can do for him. The ball has been removed, and he is resting.”

Felicity’s had to fight to ask what she dreaded the answer to. “Will he live?”

“I don’t know.” He glanced back at his patient. “I have known Nathaniel since he was a boy, and he has always been one to fight.” He shook his head. “But something has gone out of him. I don’t know why, but I fear that he will let himself die.”

Enid moved closer to her daughter. “Why would you say that, doctor?”

“I have been around injured men enough to know when one has stopped trying to live.” He finished putting his instruments into his medical bag. “Now I must go and make preparations for the wounded that will come from this.” Then he gave the girl a shrewd look that she didn’t see, put on his tricorn and left.

With timid steps, Felicity moved to the cot and got down onto her knees beside it. His shirt had been removed, and the quilt that had been put over him only half covered his broad chest. She had likened his coloring to that of tanned leather, but now it was closer to parchment. His long black hair lay loose about his wan shoulders, and he didn’t seem to breathe at all.

“Nathaniel.” She took up one of the strong, mannish hands and pressed it to her throat. “It’s Felicity. I’m here.” She searched for any sign that he had heard her but perceived none. “Nathaniel, please do hear me.”

She pushed a heavy raven strand away from his pale skin. All at once she knew with conviction what she had been trying to deny in the three days since her abduction. But for her to see him this way made everything as clear as the air in winter and denial became futile. She ran her fingertips over a cool cheek, and she knew that her fear for him had become stronger than her fear of him.

Tender consoling rested on her shoulders, yet she didn’t look around. She couldn’t look from him for fear that when she turned back he would be gone. “I love him, Mother.”

“I know, my dear, and I think I have even before you did.”

“I think we both know why he would not want to live. Oh, if only I could take back those horrid words I said to him.” Her fingers tightened on his hand. “He’s letting himself die because he thinks I no longer want him, but I have never wanted anything so much.”

“Then tell him so.”

“He wouldn’t hear.”

“He will if you speak to his heart.” Enid lifted her daughter’s face to her. “The heart always listens, so speak to his, and speak only of love.”

“I will, oh, I will.”

Enid kissed her on the forehead. “Now I will leave the two of you alone.”

Once her mother had gone, Felicity enclosed his hand in both of hers and leaned her elbows on the side of the cot. “Please come back to me. You are the one, the only one that I have ever wanted or needed to share my life with.” She tittered, but it held no mirth. “Sometimes we say and do cruel things to those we care so much for. I never meant to hurt so, but when I saw you…” She gave her head a vigorous shake. “No, I must only speak of love.” The sobs began, and she couldn’t control them. “Don’t take yourself away from me. I couldn’t live if you did that, and know that I was the cause.”

Still she got no sign that he had heard her or even knew of her presence.

“Don’t punish me this way, my beloved, please don’t.” She put her head down so that the side of her face rested against his chest. “I love you, Nathaniel, and I don’t want to live without you. I would rather die.”

*******

The wiry bay tore through the trees as if chased by a pack of ravenous wolves. His hooves pounded the ground and kicked up fallen leaves in sprays of gold and red and brown. Yancy Scoggins – his musket gripped in his right fist – leaned close to the animal’s shiny neck. The coarse black mane stung his face as the wind they produced whipped it about, but he had no time to concern himself with it.

Behind him laid so much, and the completion of his task could mean the difference between the continued existence of the fort and the settlement. If he failed much would most like as not be lost. He urged the horse faster and leaned down even more. He couldn’t fail.

For a fleeting moment his mind raced back to his friend lying injured and close to death. He had no way of knowing if the wound was mortal or not, and it gnawed at him like a canker. He had seen men survive a lot worse, but they had something going for them that he feared Nathaniel didn’t. They wanted to live.

In the days since Felicity Baddington had been returned to her parents, he had seen much additional change in Nathaniel. He had become sullen and even more reflective than usual. Yancy would be a fool not to believe that the harsh rebuke from the woman he knew his friend loved had no effect. Without using the actual word, she had called Nathaniel a savage, and let it be known that she didn’t want the hands of a savage laid upon her. From the second the hurtful words left her lips he had seen the life go out of Nathaniel Cartwright. And now, as the end result, he feared he would lose his blood brother. Nathaniel had told him not to blame her, but he did, and if Nathaniel died, he always would.

The horse flew over a dead log in its path as if with wings, and Yancy clung to its back like a burr. Forty Victory lay ahead, he couldn’t be sure how far now, and he had to reach it. He could only hope that the horse lasted long enough, and he had no time to worry about the cruelty of the notion. Too much was at stake.

*******

At long last, Claude Dulain felt himself on the cusp of the revenge he had so long sought against General Baddington. His attempt with the girl, as with so many others, had failed, but he felt that the proper time had come. This time he believed that victory would be his, and he relished the idea of putting an end to the general’s inconvenient life with his own hands.

He looked behind him at the troops, and the endless tramp of their feet gave rise to his optimism. Soon they would be at Fort Fidelity. A thought creased his brow as he turned forward in the saddle. What of the two men who had seen them? His soldiers and the Huron had opened fire on them, but they had eluded capture. Judging from the blood that had been found in some dead leaves, at least one of them had been hit, yet they had escaped. This proved to be an endless source of agitation for him, but he couldn’t turn back. They had come too far to give up, and what would General Beaumarchais have to say. He, like Dulain and many others, wanted Fort Fidelity in the worse way. They felt it had been a dagger pointed at France’s throat for way too long, and now the time was long overdue to do something about it. It had not been hard enough to convince him of the rightness of the endeavor, but Dulain knew that if he turned back so close to his goal, he would never have Beaumarchais’s ear again.

Dulain’s fingers snarled on the reins. “Soon, Francois, soon.”

“Did you say something, mon Capitaine?”

Dulain looked over to the officer that rode next to him. “No, Paul, nothing at all.”

*******

As the big gates swung closed, and the heavy bar dropped into place, General Baddington climbed to the catwalk that ran along the uppermost part of the stockade walls. Everyone was in, and though it did crowd things a bit, it couldn’t be helped. To leave the citizenry of the settlement outside and at the mercy of the enemy wasn’t an option.

The boots of the sentries thumped as they walked, their eyes ever scanning for the approach of the French.

The general stopped near a young soldier. “Have you seen anything yet?”

“No, sir, not so far.”

The man walked away, and his head turned as he watched for any sign.

Baddington took a long spyglass from his coat and looked through it. It allowed him to see farther than the naked eye, and to catch the enemy’s approach early could be crucial. He took a deep breath as he watched the woods beyond the settlement in the only direction Dulain could come.

They were well provisioned, the fort strong and well built, and he commanded a fine garrison, but the thought of the cannon disturbed him. It could punch holes through the thick log walls like a finger through a piece of paper. Below, a baby began to cry, and it seized him like a cold fist. He had heard the stories of what the Indians did to white captives, and a few times had even seen with his own eyes the savagery. But then this was a savage land, and one had to resort to such just to survive, though he couldn’t understand the killing of women and children. His hands tightened on the spyglass, and he said a silent prayer for Mr. Scoggins to make it in time.

ELEVEN

The horse raced past a large tree, and Yancy ducked to avoid a low hanging branch. All he needed was to be swiped from the saddle. He couldn’t afford to lose his mount at this point and an injury to either or both of them could only slow them down, if not stop them altogether. If ever there was a time not to be hindered, this was it. Too much relied on his success for negligence.

*******

Felicity sat in a simple wooden chair and patted perspiration from Nathaniel’s face while Serenity poked up the logs in the hearth.

“I certainly do appreciate your being here, Miss Peacock.”

“Oh, it’s quite nothing. Nathaniel and I are old friends, and I know that he would do the same for me.” She gave the fire another jab then hung the poker from a hook on the stone fireplace. “Nathaniel is one of the finest men I have ever known.” She came to stand beside Felicity. “And since he met you, we have not been together once, nor any other women in that sense.”

The barmaid’s candor shocked Felicity. These things were not spoken up with such frankness in polite circles, not that the fine ladies of London did not hint at it to one another. A tiny spark lit a fuse, and she decided to meet bluntness with bluntness. “So I take it that you and those other women you speak of know him in an intimate fashion.”

Serenity smiled and touched her arm. “Oh, you mustn’t blame Nathaniel. A man like him, not completely a part of the white world or the red, though no one can ever say that he has not been taken in by both, is lonely. And being such a handsome and manly creature as he is, no woman who is a woman can turn him away.”

Felicity wanted to close her ears. She had overheard bits and pieces about this side of Nathaniel for some time, but her love had chosen to place it away from her. Now, though, she couldn’t run from it, and it only instilled a gnawing wonder if it would continue even if she were to marry him.

“But his feelings for you have changed all that.” Serenity snickered. “It isn’t that I haven’t offered, but he always told me that he could no longer without explanation. I knew there was someone else, and I knew who the first time I saw him with you.” She knelt and placed a hand on his leg.

Felicity could feel the green fire spread through her. Her teeth clamped onto the inside of her lower lip, and blue flame rose in her eyes.

“I have lost him to you, and it is a good loss.”

“How so?”

“Nathaniel is a fine specimen of a man, and any woman should feel proud to have him. I don’t, however, love him, not as a wife should, at any rate.” She touched the back of Felicity’s hand. “He is yours now.” Serenity looked at him, and sadness filled her eyes. “If he lives, and we must pray with all that is in us for that.”

Felicity felt ashamed and miniscule and petty. “Yes. We should concern ourselves with that above all.” Felicity swallowed down hard, and took the woman’s hand.

The smiles exchanged between them erased all but the concern for the man they both held such strong feelings for. Serenity gave her a pat then went to the kettle that sat in the ashes close to the fire. “Would you like some tea?”

“No thank you, but you may have some yourself, if you would like.”

“I think I shall.”

While Serenity poured herself a cup, Felicity decided to change the subject. “Miss Peacock…,”

“Oh, do please call me Serenity.”

“Very well, Serenity, do you know of why this man Dulain hates my father so. I have asked him about it time and again, but he simply calls it a misunderstanding and leaves it at that. Do you know the story?”

Serenity stood and took a petite sip. “I should say that everyone around here does.”

“Would you please tell me? It can be so maddening to try to pryse anything from my father.”

“It happened not long after he took command.” She turned her back to the fire. “Many of the soldiers and the men in the settlement speculate that the French wanted to try out the new commander, and could only hope that he would be soft and easy to sway into relinquishing the fort.”

“If they knew anything about my father they would not have been so foolish.”

“Indeed. Have you heard what the men call him?”

“No.”

Serenity took another sip. “General Iron and the title is well deserved. Though I assume that you and your mother don’t know him that way. I have seen in the few times I have come into the stockade since your arrival how he is with you. Dulain was right about the possible outcome when he abducted you.”

“I think we know about his iron willed stubbornness more than you know, but please do continue with your story.”

“I remember that it was a Saturday when the French soldiers came. The officer in command was a Captain Picard, and from the onset he demanded that your father surrender. Of course, the general refused, and quite impolitely, I might add.” Serenity shook her head. “It was good fortune that we had heard them coming and was able to get everyone inside. We went through a two day siege with the French only sitting out there then Picard asked for a meeting to talk over the matter.”

“A perfect waste of time.”

“Even more than that, I am afraid. Your father agreed, and they met outside the stockade walls under a white flag. Each man was accompanied by another officer, in your father’s case a Captain Nigel Green. The truce, however, didn’t last very long, and they had spoken little when one of the Indians with the French became frenzied and fired and struck Captain Green in the arm. We can only believe that the Indian recognized him and bore him a hatred for some reason. From there a tussle ensued and your father shot and killed the young lieutenant with Picard.” Serenity paused and stared into the dregs of her tea. “I would find out later that his name was Francois Dulain.”

Felicity’s head yanked around.

“Dulain’s younger brother.”

“But my father was justified.”

“We can only assume that when they returned the French told that your father broke the truce by firing first and killing Lieutenant Dulain, and the Indians confirmed it.”

“But why, if it wasn’t the truth?”

“In their place, what would you do against a hated enemy? And, anyway, even if the lie wasn’t told, this was Dulain’s brother and little more than a boy, really.”

“And he will do anything to have his revenge against my father, even if it means killing someone totally innocent of the whole affair.”

“If that someone happens to be a person that the general loves beyond measure, then yes.”

“It must be a terrible thing to live one’s life under the burden of such hatred.”

“I would think you would be the last person on this earth to feel sorry for Dulain.”

Felicity flared. “I don’t. I hope he is killed, and I wish I could be the one to put an end to his tawdry life. I would have been hacked to death if not for Nathaniel and Mr. Scoggins, in fact; I believe that he gave the order for it. If I was brought to his cold and putrefying corpse, I would curse it and spit upon it.” She began to shake out of sheer helpless rage. “And now my Nathaniel could die because of his single-minded loathing.”

Felicity took Nathaniel’s hand, but he continued to lie like a dead man. At this second she understood what Dulain held for her father, for she had never hated with such intensity or such fever in her life. She closed her eyes and let her mind conjure images of her putting a bullet in that odious beast’s brain or doing what she had seen Nathaniel do. And this time it was without revulsion, and that frightened her.

*******

Captain Claude Dulain could taste the bitter bile as it came up into his throat. Over the lonely grave of his brother – whom he had sworn to his mother to protect – he had vowed vengeance against the man who had put him there. He had come so close with the girl, but now retribution could be even closer at hand. He looked to the sky and reasoned that they had come to the noon hour. The sun hung straight up, and its warming rays touched his face. They, however, weren’t what flushed him. “Soon, Francois, very soon.”

Lieutenant Paul Therriault let snuck a quick glance at the man he rode alongside. This time, and two previous, he had caught the words but had made no sign of it. Though he had been here for but a short time, he had almost from the instant of his arrival heard the story of the killing of Captain Dulain’s brother, and the oath of châtiment given. In these six months he had come to know the captain as well as anyone could penetrate the shell around him. That this English general would pay with his life, he had not the slightest reservation. And that it would be savored and painful, of that too he did not doubt.

*******

The bay splashed through the shallow creek. A hoof slipped on a wet rock, but the animal righted itself and kept going. Yancy’s stiffened fingers ached from the death grip they held on the musket. He glanced upward. The second half of the day had begun, and so had the march to night. He must cover as much more ground as he could before night fell. With a nudge from his heels, they drove on.

TWELVE

The onset of dusk had turned the sky to the color of slate when the alarm ran through the fort that the enemy had arrived. However, the disorder that would have delighted the French was nowhere to be seen. These were sturdy people used to the hardships of living in the frontier. Threats and adversity of all sorts abounded, and flopping around like a fish out of water only accomplished getting yourself and others killed.

Women stood below the walkway ready to load guns for rapid firing while the men watched over the wall as the cannon was readied. The French troops lined up while the Indians took to the trees or hunkered close to the ground.

General Baddington left his office as five men struggled with a mammoth cannon, but that wasn’t what he noticed. The first thing his eyes lit upon was his wife gathered with the other ladies. His legs moved faster, and his heart drummed in his chest as he approached her.

“Enid, what are you doing here? I told you to go back with Felicity.”

“I can do nothing that Miss Peacock can’t, and I can do more here.”

“Such as what, besides getting shot?”

“I can help with the loading of the guns.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t know the first thing about loading a musket.”

One of the women turned around. “She will before this is finished, and we need all the help available.”

“I don’t like it and I shan’t have you out here where you could get killed.”

“I could be killed anywhere this night. And I have the right to help my husband as these other women are. Please do not ask me to do otherwise.”

He had lost few arguments with Enid, but he could see plain as day in those determined eyes and by the haughty tilt of her head that he had lost this one. “All right, but do keep down and be careful.”

With a quick, discreet brush of her fingers along his jaw line, she smiled. “I could admonish you to do the same.”

“General, sir, I think they want to talk,” Gayle Townsend shouted.

The general gave a quick glance in his direction, then gave Enid’s arm a squeeze and started up the ladder.

Baddington stopped next to young Townsend. Two French officers, one of them he did not fail to recognize, stood beneath a white flag.

“Which one is Dulain?”

“The one on the right.”

“Do you think they will attack us tonight?”

The general looked up into the darkening sky. “They will attack us when Dulain is ready, and that could be at any time. I know what you want, Dulain, but out of courtesy I will ask anyway.”

The Lieutenant translated the general’s words into French, and Dulain’s face hardened. “Reddition.”

“He wants you to…”

“I understood, Leftenant. Tell him that it is out of the question. That I will never surrender this fort for as long as there is breath in my body.”

The lieutenant turned again and more words were exchanged. “Monsieur Generali, he wonders why you are not gentleman enough to come out here to talk.”

Baddington’s brow creased. “I was fool enough to do that once before, and a young officer died as the result. I shall not make the same mistake a second time.” A sardonic grin turned his mouth. “And I would be a fool to deliver myself so easily into his hands. I like to think that I am not so foolish.”

The general watched as Dulain listened to the translation. At first the Frenchman’s countenance set like stone then a cunning smirk seemed to overtake his whole face. Another muted exchange then the lieutenant slammed the flag of truce onto the ground. “Then you have forced him to take drastic measures and all those inside will suffer for your arrogance.”

The general’s fingernails dug into the weathered logs. “I expected no less, and I would give the same if I were in his position. And be forewarned that we are prepared and ready for you.”

Dulain’s cold eyes and those of the general’s met then the two French officers returned to their troops.

“Why didn’t you ask him to let the women and children go?”

“You haven’t been here very long, Leftenant Townsend, so I will forgive you your imprudent question. I would rather see every woman and child here die under that cannon than to give them over to the mercy of the Huron. You have never seen a white infant with its brains bashed out against the trunk of a tree whereas I have, and it is something that you don’t forget.”

“Forgive my ignorance, sir.”

“Done, Leftenant. Now make one last round and tell the men to stay ever on the alert. A favorite tactic of the Indians is to use the cover of night to get inside. And stress again that no one fires without an order from me.”

“Yes, sir.”

As Townsend headed away, the general looked down at his wife. Enid was being taught the finer points of how to load a musket by one of the women from the settlement, and she seemed to be an apt pupil. Now, as when his daughter had been abducted, he regretted having his family out here.

“Do you think we will have long to wait?”

Serenity drew the draperies and stepped back from the window. “Dulain is a patient man, and he will wait until what he thinks the right time.” She lit a lamp and sat it on the fireplace mantle.

“Do they ever attack at night?”

“Most always. It is easier to hide one’s self in the darkness.” Serenity came to the cot and felt Nathaniel’s face. “He’s feverish.”

“I wish there was something more we could do for him.”

“The best thing we can do for all of us is to make sure that no Indians get in here.” Serenity took up the musket that leaned against the wall. “But if one should he will get the surprise of his very short life.”

*******

Yancy struck the ground and managed to roll out of the way so the horse didn’t land on him. A rock gouged into his hip and pain ran along his left leg and into his boot. He didn’t cry out for the wrong person could hear. The musket, however, stayed locked in his fist, and even the jolt of a sudden landing couldn’t jar it loose.

His head got a quick shake in an attempt to dislodge the buzzing flies from his skull as he pushed himself into a sitting position. He ran his hand over the side of his body but found no evidence of blood, which came as a great relief. With a muffled grunt he pushed himself up onto his feet. He didn’t have time even to get his second wind.

The horse stood with its legs apart and its head hung low. It blew froth as it fought to get a decent breath. The animal didn’t even try to run as the man approached it. Both of them were just about spent.

Yancy took up the reins and ran his hand along the lathered neck and onto the withers. He had hated to push the animal so hard, and he had known better that to ride so after dark. He had just been asking for a mishap, and he had gotten it. He gave the horse a pat then headed off with a slight limp. The horse followed, but it was all the creature had left in it.

*******

“General.” The shout went unheeded in the bustle.

An almost full moon sat high in the midnight sky as Gayle Townsend raised his musket and took aim. This went against a direct order, but if he didn’t the first person to die would be English. His shot shattered the uneasy peace and brought forth a man’s scream. An Indian fell limp and lifeless from a tree, and hit the ground at the same time his gun did. All at once everything became a frenzied melee.

The French cannon had been positioned so that its ominous maw centered on the huge gates that blocked easy access into the fort. One shot could take care of that. French soldiers scrambled forward to ready it for firing.

General Baddington had hoped that Dulain – in his need to prolong this thing for his own perverted satisfaction – would drag this out long enough for reinforcements to reach them from Fort Victory. One unordered shot, however, had changed that.

“When I give the word, open the gates, and swing them wide.”

“Yes, sir,” a corporal said, then ran forward.

Sergeant Mayhew lowered the torch closer to the heavy gun, and awaited his command.

Gayle turned and looked down at the general. “They’re almost ready.”

The general’s sword sliced through the air as his arm dropped. “Now!”

The immense doors drug open.

“Fire, Sergeant Mayhew!”

The torch touched the fuse. In a matter of seconds the English cannon spoke.

Before anyone could react outside, the lethal round hit its mark. The enemy artillery piece exploded. Bodies and parts of bodies spread with the shrapnel as screams of surprise and agony saturated the air.

Dulain cursed. Once again General Baddington had trumped his hand.

Amid shouts, gunfire, and cries from the dying, Indians dashed forward with crude ladders. Some may have thought to get inside before the gates closed only to be shot down or have them slammed in their faces. Several French soldiers were cut down by a volley from the ramparts. In all the confusion, though, no one saw the two warriors that slipped past the end of the stockade.

Felicity hung onto Nathaniel’s hand as if it were a lifeline to sanity. Serenity stood before the fireplace, ready to use the musket at a moments notice. Maybe no one would get inside, but it would not be a wise thing to pin one’s life on a gamble that they wouldn’t.

The two figures crept through the shadows like silent phantoms. In all the bedlam they had yet to be seen.

The door burst open and the Indians were inside in an instant. Felicity threw herself over Nathaniel to protect him. Serenity grabbed the musket and leveled it. Fire erupted from the barrel, and one of the Indian’s dropped in his tracks. The other lunged forward and seized the weapon as she tried to swing it at him. Serenity fought him, but he jerked it from her and flung it aside. His arm raised, a tomahawk in his hand, and his fingers wound in her hair. He pulled back to strike her but froze. His expression bore shock more than anything, and his hand fell from her head. Blood began to bubble from his mouth then he pitched forward to crash into a table. Nathaniel’s hatchet had been buried in the back of his neck. Felicity’s eyes stayed on her handiwork then rose to Serenity, who gave her a nod then rushed to close the door. Nathaniel still lay unconscious.

Enid removed the rod from the barrel of the musket then handed it up and received an empty one in exchange. She proceeded to load it. She had surprised herself at how quick she could do this. But then desperation and fear could have that kind of effect on one. You never knew what you were capable of until you were forced to find out.

This whole thing was not going the way Dulain had planned. The cannon – upon which he had pinned great hopes of breaching the fort – had been one of the first casualties. In all the chaos, he couldn’t be sure how many men he had lost. Lieutenant Therriault, he did know, had been standing beside the cannon when it had exploded. The young officer’s head had almost been severed from his neck, and one hand blown away.

Dulain climbed onto the back of his white horse. He raised his sword and waved it in the air as he shouted orders. He ranted like a frenzied madman as he urged his men forward. His dreams of having his revenge on the man who had killed his brother were falling apart, and so was he.

“Enough of this.” General Baddington raised the musket, sighted along the barrel and squeezed the trigger.

Claude Dulain, the man who had been like the proverbial thorn in the lion’s paw, toppled backward from the saddle and landed in an unkempt heap. His empty eyes affixed to the sky, but he saw neither the stars nor the ghostly pale face of the moon. In short, the French officer had paid a high price in his quest for revenge with that most precious of all human commodities – his life.

Almost as fast as it had begun, the starch seemed to go from the attack. With both Dulain and Therriault dead it was as if the head of the snake had been cut off and the body didn’t know what to do. The Huron – more as a cause of common sense than cowardice – were the first to head for the trees. Dulain had been the glue that had held them, but now he was gone.

Shouts and taunts and gunfire spattered the French troops that didn’t follow the lead of the Indians. But they too, when they learned that they were alone, took flight into the early morning hours.

It was over, all but the inevitable cleanup that always followed one of these affairs. That is, when anyone decided it was safe to venture outside the safety of the thick log walls. Until sunrise though, eternal vigilance would be kept, but at least the women and children could get some rest.

THIRTEEN

It was the morning of the second day after the attack when part of the garrison from Fort Victory, led by Yancy Scoggins on a fresh horse, arrived on the scene.

Hugh Baddington stood looking down at the corpse of his old enemy when Yancy and a fresh-faced English captain approached him.

The young officer gave a crisp salute. “General Baddington, General Davenport sends his compliments. We got here as quickly as we could after your scout arrived at Victory.” He looked around at the bodies that were being removed from the field of battle, and the remains of the shattered cannon. “But it would appear that we are too late to be of any need.”

The general returned the gesture. “You and your men are still a most welcome sight, Captain Landing.”

“When Mr. Scoggins told us that the French had a cannon, we feared for the worst. How many casualties did to accrue, sir?”

“Seven wounded and three killed. We were very lucky.”

“Knowing you, sir, I would say that luck had little to do with it.” He looked at the dead Frenchman, and his upper lip rose into a derisive sneer. “Dulain. Many of us believed that this would be his end. When vengeance becomes your sole purpose in life, it often is.”

The general shook his head. “He became crazed when he saw his schemes falling apart. So close to having me, only to be thrown back.”

Yancy pounced on the lull in their conversation. “General, how’s Nathaniel?”

“You will have to ask my daughter about that. She hasn’t left his side since he was brought here.”

Yancy thanked him and rushed off.

Felicity stood before the hearth with a cup of tea when someone knocked, and she bade them enter. The door’s squeak entered the room.

“Mr. Scoggins, I am happy to see that you have returned.”

“Can I come in?”

“Please do.”

Yancy pushed the door together, and leaned his musket against the wall. “How is he doing?”

“Much the same. He is burning with fever and has yet to awaken. I talk to him, but it seems to do no good.”

Yancy swiped his hat from his head and stopped at the foot of the cot. “Nathaniel, it’s Yancy. I’m back, and I brought help, though we got here too late to be of any use. The general has things well in hand, but I don’t think that would surprise you. And you might like to know that Dulain is dead.”

An odd sort of expression – a mixture of disgust and satisfaction – changed Felicity’s face so that it didn’t really look like her. “I can’t say that I am sorry.”

“I don’t think that anybody around here is.” Yancy stood there for a few seconds then turned to her. “He loves you, you know.”

Surprise would be a mild word for what registered on Felicity’s face.

“If he knew what I was about to tell you he’d hang my hair from his belt, but it’s something I think you need to hear. Many times he has fought for his own life, for mine and for others, but never have I seen him fight like he did for yours. And when he thought you hated him for what he did, I saw the life go out of him.”

“I regret what I said to him, and under normal circumstances I never would have. I was so frightened. I have never been so completely frightened in my entire life. It wasn’t until much later that I became aware of what I had said to him. And when I did I wanted to just curl up into a tight little ball and die.” She stepped away from the fire. “I wanted to tell him that, to tell him that I was ashamed of myself, but he never came to see me. I would have been an utter fool if I hadn’t realized that I had hurt him deeply. I can still see those injured eyes, and it cuts like a knife into my very soul.” She snickered. “You needn’t skirt around the other women, for I already know. Serenity told me, and quite unabashedly, I might say.”

“Yet you still love him.”

“Yes, I do with every thread of my being, and if he will just wake up I will tell him so.”

Yancy grinned and stuck his tricorn on his head. “I think he already knows.” He looked down at his friend, and his grin widened then he retrieved his musket and left.

Felicity stood there, perplexed by his sudden change in attitude. She couldn’t figure what there had been to grin about since nothing had been the slightest bit amusing. Then she turned around. She almost dropped the cup.

Black eyes were looking back at her.

She put what remained of her tepid tea on the mantelpiece then sat in the chair beside the cot. She felt his forehead, and a soft smile gave her away. “Your fever has broken.”

His eyelids moved in a lethargic blink, but his direct gaze never strayed from her.

“You’re back now, and I shall never let you go again.” She ran her fingers through his heavy black hair. “You are now and forever shall be my Nathaniel.” She touched his warm cheek. “I was unkind to you, and after you saved my life, and for that I shall always harbor regret, but no woman could love you more than I do.”

“You know?”

“Yes, I know, but it does not matter. When I thought I should lose you I knew that nothing mattered but that you should live. We never know how dear a thing is to us until we come close to losing it.” She leaned down and placed a light but passionate kiss on his pale lips. “You are my truest love.”

His arm shook as he raised it and put his hand behind her head. He spoke in a language that was new to her.

“What melodious words. What do they mean?”

It took him several seconds to answer her. “I called you my dove that flies in the morning sun.” He pulled her down to him, and she rested the side of her face against his chest. His arm stole around her, and he used what strength he had to hold her tight. “May I ask you a question?”

“Of course you can.”

“Would you… be averse to marrying a man who is half Cherokee?”

An involuntary shiver made her body tremble, and she closed her eyes. His heart beat beneath her ear, and she felt that it beat only for her. “I am yours for the taking.” Her head rose, and she looked into those endless wells of ebony. “All I ask is for you love me at least half as much as I do you so that I can be the most loved woman in the entire world.”

“I am afraid I can’t do that, for it could never be enough.”

They looked at each other for an eternal moment then their lips met in a kiss that would bind them together for life as their souls mingled, and they became as one. His fingers twined in her golden honey hair as her hands pressed against his broad chest.

Since a very young girl, Felicity had dreamt of finding the one intended for her, and she had thought of it in terms of a fairy tale. But this went beyond anything that she had ever thought of in her wildest fantasies. This dark, untamed creature was like nothing the mind of a proper young lady could conjure, and he stirred her blood like nothing ever had or would again. And the idea of spending the rest of her life with him made her giddy and euphoric. He was, after all, her Nathaniel, her truest love.

*******

The warm spring sunshine flirted with the revelers as the golden sun drifted among the wispy clouds. Bright fiddle music rose into the trees from within the stockade walls. Happy voices and the stomp of dancing feet added their own festive touch as did laughter and gaiety.

General Hugh Baddington had never allowed such frivolity to go on in his fort, but for today he made an exception. After all, how often did his only child get married?

He stood before a long table which held all kinds of food, from pies and cakes and puddings to wild turkey, roast pig and venison. Hard cider, spiced rum, and syllabub were the beverages of choice, and all were liberally sampled.

Enid batted her eyes as she held onto the general’s arm. Felicity was a young woman now, taken as a wife, but her mother, through a mist of tears, saw the little girl, her child who would someday bear her own children. “Thank you, Hugh, for giving her this.”

“And thank you, my dearest Enid, for giving her to me.”

Her eyes danced with mischief. “I didn’t do it alone.”

Serenity stood along the wall, hands clapping, and her toes tapped beneath the skirt of her dress.

“Would you care to dance, Miss Peacock?”

“I would love to, Mr. Scoggins.”

She took his outstretched arms, and they spun away to join the other couples.

Felicity whirled over the hard packed ground in the arms of her new husband, happier than she had never been. She could not take her eyes off of him, and, what’s more, she didn’t want to. His hair had been pulled back and tied with a black ribbon that had all but disappeared against the raven strands it held. He wore a dark gray frock coat and his usual moccasins. He cut a fine figure, and he belonged to her.

“Are you happy, Mrs. Cartwright?”

“Need you ask?”

He grinned, and his teeth shone in the buttery light. “No, I guess not.”

“Then hush and dance.”

“As you wish.”

With a flourish, he gave her a swing, and they melded into the throng.

Nathaniel hadn’t realized until today why all those other women, but now he knew with all certainty. It had been an ongoing search to find the right one. It wasn’t that it hadn’t been – in part – to stave off loneliness, for it had. But it had played a larger part in finding the woman who would become his wife. Amusement tickled his brain. It was when he hadn’t been looking or trying that it had happened, and now he had her. His eyes roved over this vision of ethereal loveliness that he held, and no doubt, had there ever been any, remained. He smiled, and she returned it. His wife, his love, his Felicity.

FOURTEEN

Angelica had long since left the chair for the floor and sat in the shelter of her husband’s arms. Her head rested on his shoulder, and her hands were clasped in his. “Did they stay at the settlement?”

“For a little while. Their first three children were born there, two sons and a daughter. The girl was named for her grandmother, Enid Celeste.”

“How many did they have?”

“Ten but only six lived to be raised to adulthood.” He ducked his head. “And one was a set of twins.”

“So that is who are responsible for the boys. Something else I have them to thank for.” She snuggled closer to him. “How did your family eventually wind up in Massachusetts?”

“After the war ended, they went to Boston, and became very prominent citizens. He liked it in the wilderness, but he felt that the city would be a safer place for his family. I read a letter he had written to his father-in-law, and in it he said he had no regrets.”

“What did he do there?”

“With money he borrowed from the general he bought a ship. He imported goods from Europe and in a short time became a very wealthy man.” An air of pride radiated from Adam. “He was a close friend to Paul Revere and even took part in the Boston Tea Party that threw all that tea into Boston Harbor. Money wasn’t the most important thing in his life, and he gave a lot of it for freedom so that by the end of the Revolution he didn’t have that much of his fortune left. The British had burned his fleet of ships what ones they didn’t take so he wound up doing whatever he could to make ends meet.”

“Did he and Felicity live long happy lives together?”

“According to all accounts they did. This isn’t to say that they didn’t endure rough times as we all do, but they did it together. He was eighty when he died, and she outlived him by less than a year.”

She turned her deep violet eyes on him. “I can fully understand that.” With a light caress, she brushed her hand over the side of his face and smiled. “A life without the one you love most in it is no life at all. To linger would only exacerbate the pain, so why add to it? I would do the same.”

He held her face in his hands and allowed her to be the only thing he saw then he kissed her. “I’m glad that I have been as fortunate as he was to find the right one.”

She put her arms around him and pressed her head to his chest so that she could hear the rhythmic thump of his heart. “So am I.” She pushed herself back from him and turned to the painting. “One can see how happy they were.” Then a light seemed to go on in her face, and she looked at him. “Adam, I have a splendid idea. If you think that your father wouldn’t object, when we return home I would very much like to take the painting with us. We could hang it in the front parlor for everyone to see when they came in.” She giggled. “Can you imagine the reactions to the uncanny likeness you bore to your great-great-grandfather?”

“I agree that it is a fine idea, and I don’t think Pa would mind at all. It would be better than just letting sit up here collecting dust and cobwebs.”

They heard the door open then the tramp of feet on the steps. They didn’t have to wait long to see who had intruded on their solitude. Verina appeared at the top of the stairs with a blanket swaddled bundle that wriggled. “I thought I heard voices. Someone woke up and decided that she wanted her mother. It took me forever to get her quieted just this much.” She bent at the waist and placed the fussy baby in her daughter’s arms.

Angelica jostled the child who seemed to calm at her mother’s touch.

Adam pulled the blanket back and looked down on the tiny face then at his mother-in-law. “Where are the boys?”

“Ben, Joe and Hoss have them. They are miracle workers when it comes to small boys.”

Adam snickered. “Pa’s had plenty of practice, and Joe and Hoss aren’t so far removed from childhood themselves.”

Verina spied the painting. “I can only imagine that you made the same mistake I did when you first saw that.”

Angelica put the baby to her shoulder and patted the petite back. “If by that you mean that I thought it was Adam, yes, I did.” Her eyes darted to her husband. “And I must admit that I felt like the idiot afterward.”

“Ben told me their story one night when neither of us could sleep. It is hard to imagine what it would have been like to live in such a wilderness.” Verina turned back toward the stairs. “Well, I will go and leave the three of you.” She got to the first step then stopped. “Oh, Hop Sing told me to tell you if I found you that supper will soon be ready.”

“All right, Mother, we’ll be right down.”

When they were alone again, Angelica leaned against Adam and continued to pat the baby. “I didn’t realize that we had been up here that long, and I must admit that I am a bit hungry.” Then she settled into a pensive silence for a moment. “Adam, if we should ever find ourselves in Boston, I would like very much to visit their graves.”

He cocked his head back and gave her a quizzical look. “I hope you don’t mind if I ask why.”

“I would like to pay my respects. I owe them for so much.” She nestled her head into the hollow of his shoulder. “And I would like to say thank you.”

He chuckled and put his arm around her. “All right, if we should ever find ourselves there.”

“I take it that you know where they are buried”

“Of course I do. I used to go there sometimes when I was attending college.” He kissed the top of her head then twirled a finger in one of his daughter’s red curls. “I am sure that they would be pleased.”

As he sat there he glanced back at the painting, and for the first time he felt he really knew these people. He had been told the story many times but he had never himself told it, and it somehow made him feel closer to them. Then there was the fact that he had met his own special one who filled his life with light and happiness. His arm squeezed around her, and he looked down on the sleeping babe, and love and contentment grew within his chest until he thought it would burst. He looked at the image of his great-great-grandfather and winked, and if he hadn’t known better he would have sworn that it winked back.

THE END

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