Liberty's Legacy

by Heidi Sprouse

  She set her fingers on mine, forcing me to stop and meet her gaze. “Patience, my husband, and you will be rewarded.” She performed the final task, lifting the shirt over her head, revealing the glory of the form God had given her.

  I inhaled sharply and stood rooted to the spot. My wife was a marvel. Perfectly formed in every way with swells and curves that I could get lost in forever. Her skin was fair, like a fine marble. She raised her chin and stood straight and tall before me. My angel was not too thin. There was something to hold on to, a soft place to fall. Judging by the tremors in my legs, I would need a cushion to land on soon.

  She took one step closer and her fingers went to my coat, a dark navy jacket that was a tribute to our cause. A push off the shoulders, the quaking of her fingers traveling down my arms, and it fell in a heap on the floor. My breeches in black were next, then the stockings. My white shirt was the final piece and this time, I let her do the honors. I closed my eyes as the fabric brushed against my skin, went over my head, and dropped.

  Warm lips caressed my breast bone and my hands convulsively closed around her arms. “My sweet Rebekah, I cannot wait any longer.”

  “I do not expect you to wait. I am yours, Benjamin. I have been since the first day you walked through my door and I will be until we meet at heaven’s gate.” I was already in heaven as I sealed her lips with a kiss, lowering her carefully to the bed of blankets before the dancing flames. Within minutes, we finally shared the gift of each other. A timeless gift that would never grow old, more precious than all the earth’s riches. I was rich beyond measure as long as this woman was by my side.

  When we were sated, our hearts thumping against each other’s chest, struggling to catch our breath, I lay with Rebekah tucked against my chest. I relished the warmth of her skin touching mine. I would never be cold again with her body sharing my bed.

  A shiver ran through her and I drew up the covers, brushing her hair with a kiss. “Are you cold? I can get you another blanket or make you tea.” I did not want to leave our nest, but my angel’s needs must come first. As my wife, she would always come first. The one who mattered most, much more than myself.

  She laughed softly, but her breath caught in a sob. “I am not cold. I am just so unspeakably happy. I found happiness like this once before, with my Rufus. I did not think I would ever know love again. I am afraid that this will all be snatched away and I will be tossed into the cold of loneliness once again. I was so lonely, Benjamin!”

  She buried her face against my chest. I ran my hand through the curtain of her hair, stroking it, striving to settle her and soothe her fears. “If there is one thing I have learned, you can never be truly lonely when you have loved so deeply. Look at my mother. My father has been with her in spirit ever since his death. He has been in me. I believe that his presence has been watching over us all these years. Even when the person you love cannot physically be there with you, the flame of love continues to burn in your heart.” I took her hand and pressed it to my heart. “Do you feel that steady beating? That is my love, calling to you.”

  She placed my palm on her chest and raised her head, her brimming eyes reaching out to me. “Here is my answer. I promise you. Time without end, it will beat for you.”

  The wind picked up around the house, moaning and making the walls shake. No matter. We were warm and safe in each other’s arms. Let the blizzard rage. Rebekah was my calm in any storm. As for Liberty’s legacy? I held her and the future of my unborn children in my hands. I would never let her go.

  38

  July 4, 2016

  Charlotte

  “I think I’ve had enough of wandering in the past.” Ben closed the journal and set it on our bed stand, its companion sitting underneath. A tremor rippled through him and he let out a long, slow breath when I rested my hand on the nape of his neck.

  “No more trips back in time?” I asked lightly, my insides still quivering from the close of Benjamin’s journal. I wanted nothing more than to return to the haven of our covers to prove that we were flesh and blood, very much alive today.

  “I think I’ve got more than enough to fill my head and my heart right here. Right now. In my arms.” Ben bowed his head and set his lips on mine. An explosion of lights popped behind my eyes. No fireworks display could compare. His heart thundered against my chest and mine raced to keep up.

  My body sagged and he caught me. I laughed breathlessly. “I definitely think the present is all I can handle.” I forced myself to step back. If I kept touching him, we would not go anywhere on this beautiful day. Jakey’s cry from the next room sealed the deal. I raised a hand. “Hold that thought.” I turned and flitted out of the room. Footsteps followed.

  Our baby boy was all smiles, his arms reaching for us. I scooped him up and pressed his warm, little body against my chest. Ben’s arms wrapped around me, sheltering us both. He set his chin on my shoulder. “What is on the hit parade today?”

  I closed my eyes and leaned against him, content to bask in his presence. He was here. He was solid and real. Not a ghost. Not a vision or a dream. My husband, the best of Benjamin Willson and Ben Wilson in one. His hold tightened, prompting an answer. “How about a picnic lunch and a walk on the nature trail by the high school?” The trail was short and would not be too much for Jakey.

  Ben readily agreed. We worked seamlessly together to prepare, beginning with breakfast, changing Jakey, and making the rounds in the shower. I longed to share my shower with my husband and imagined he stood under that warm rain of falling water. I ended up leaning against the wall and turning the dial as cold as it would go, otherwise I would not be able to concentrate on our plan for the day.

  When I stepped out, he waited with my robe and a towel. His hand caressed my jaw and his lips touched down on mine. “You do not know how hard it has been to keep myself from walking in on you with my clothes on. I could hear you humming all the way downstairs and it did something to my insides.”

  “Shower before bed?” I whispered as his hands cupped my face. The scent of his aftershave and something uniquely his made me dizzy. I leaned in close.

  “Absolutely. Now get dressed before Jakey sees more than his innocent eyes should.” I couldn’t stop laughing as the color crept up from the opening in Ben’s shirt, making its way north. Unable to resist, I kissed the hammering pulse at the base of his throat and cherished his groan as I darted into the bedroom. Getting dressed was a challenge with my trembling fingers, but I managed.

  By the time I came downstairs in jeans and a t-shirt, my hair pulled back in a ponytail to keep it off my face, Ben and Jakey were on the porch. My husband was ruggedly handsome in denims that fit him just right and a long-sleeved jersey to fight off the bugs. He had Jake tucked in his carrier against his chest, barring me from throwing myself at him for another embrace. I sighed in disappointment. All in good time.

  “Some things are worth the wait.” He chuckled at my expression. I did not know how, but the man knew my thoughts.

  We set off, walking up Johnson Avenue, cutting through a break in the fence on Sir William Johnson’s estate. I glanced at the great, stately house on the hill, standing watch over the land. Not for the first time, I scanned its windows intently, half expecting to see a ghostly figure looking out. I never did, but this place and its history would always be alive to me.

  Ben squeezed my hand. I know it held the same significance for him. He had his first painful brush with memories of the Battle of Johnstown the first Halloween evening we shared here at a costume ball. We continued moving toward our destination, reluctant to linger.

  We crossed the road by the senior citizen apartment complex, walked a block or two, and hit the nature trail behind the high school. It was the perfect spot for cross country skiing in the winter. Why not enjoy it when the weather was fine? The trail was heavily wooded, a gentle winding path that brought us far enough into the forest to feel like civilization had been left behind … or the hands on the clock of time had been turne
d back a century or two.

  A chill ran through me and I moved closer to Ben and Jacob. Our son’s laughter bounced off the trees as the wind ruffled his hair. His father smiled and kissed the fine cap of his dark hair. Their happiness rubbed off on me and settled my unease.

  We followed the path, walking deeper into the woods. The trees closed ranks, the birds chirping freely and swooping from the branches. An occasional rustling on the ground proved to be a squirrel or a chipmunk. The trail curved to the left, bringing us back to where we started. To the right, another faint path appeared, one that was not a part of the regular network. I had never noticed it before.

  “Ben, what about that way?” I asked, curious. Something pulled at me, telling me to go in the unfamiliar direction.

  He shrugged. “Must be something new … or very old. Let’s see where it goes. The unbeaten path has never stopped us before.”

  His hand waited for mine. I took it even as my heart thumped erratically, and the blood rushed to my ears. I glanced at Jakey. He had drifted off to sleep, his precious smile still in place. Such a happy baby. I closed my eyes in gratitude that our encounters with the past had not affected him.

  A ray of sunlight touched down in a clearing up ahead, drawing us closer. I could not take my eyes from it. Neither could Ben. Only the baby remained oblivious to it all. As we stepped off the path, I scanned our surroundings. Beside me, Ben inhaled sharply. “Charlotte, look up ahead. The remnants of a foundation and a chimney.”

  My feet moved forward with a will of their own. A hundred paces or so and I stood next to the field stones that had once supported a home. I peered closely at writing etched into a large corner stone. JC 1782. My breath caught. I glanced up at Ben. All the color had drained from his face.

  I wandered around back, all the while my mind searching for explanations, arguing about possibilities, that it was just a coincidence, until a small family plot forced my knees to hit the ground.

  Ben gripped my shoulder, his focus on me. “Charlotte, what is it?” I covered my mouth with my hand. He looked up and followed my example, sinking down on the grass as if his legs could no longer hold him. Four small stones stood before us, worn and faded with time, but we could read the names. Jacob Cooper. Charlotte Elizabeth Cooper. Benjamin Willson Cooper. Rebekah Barnes Cooper.

  I crawled forward and touched every stone, resting my hand on Jacob’s and Charlotte the First’s. A flash of an image filled my mind. Of a white-haired woman sitting by a bed, her head bowed to the bent fingers of a snowy haired man with a wooden leg. His hand raised tremulously and rested on her head. She looked up and the love between them was a shining beacon, blinding in intensity. I let go as Ben took me in his arms, the sobs choking me. I fought to push the words through my teeth. “She … she never wanted to be apart from her loved ones. Her wish came true here.”

  My husband propped his chin on the top of my head. “You never wanted to be apart … and you’re not. I am here.” Jakey giggled in that moment, reminding us of his presence. Ben laughed, and his hand ruffled our son’s hair before skimming over my curls, stopping to press my cheek. “We are here … and I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Promise?” I latched my hands on his shoulders, my arms closing in around our son.

  Ben’s lips touched down on mine. “Always … and I keep my promises.” The wind kicked up, tugging on our clothes as the sun dipped down and painted the sky a brilliant banner of pinks, purples, reds. Liberty’s legacy began in this place over two centuries ago and lived on with every beat of our hearts. A breeze ruffled our hair, swirling around us. Laughter rang out in the rustle of the leaves swaying in the breeze, singing of liberty’s promise and joy. A man’s mingled with a woman’s. Benjamin and Rebekah Cooper?

  “No more hunts into our past?” I asked, fearful of what he would say.

  “I promise I won’t go looking. If it comes for me like it has before?” He shrugged and gave me the crooked grin I loved from the start, two hundred and thirty-five years ago. “We’ll cross that road when we come to it. I have one more piece of our history for you. Open your hand.”

  Ben placed something smooth, hard, and warm in my palm. The scene shifted. I was by the creek on a cool day in autumn, crisp air filling my lungs, Benjamin’s heat warming me. The simple ring he made me was on my finger. Binding us together. Forever.

  I snapped back to the present and slowly uncurled my fingers. The same band was nestled in the center of my hand. My head began to spin. “How?”

  “Elizabeth found it in her great grandmother’s jewelry box, tucked away. She never noticed it before. When she picked it up, someone whispered your name.” Ben took it and slid it on my ring finger on the right hand since he’d placed a heart in hand ring on my left hand on our wedding day. The moment Benjamin’s ring touched my skin, a hole inside of me was filled. My love—past and present—closed his hand around my fingers and brought the handcrafted iron band to his lips. “The circle is unbroken,” he whispered. The ring, like our hands holding on to each other tight, held the past … the present … and our future.

  “Always.” Like my love for my Patriot. Where I belonged at his side. Time without end. Amen.

  Afterword

  My thanks go out to Noel Levee, Johnstown’s town historian, for digging down deep into our town’s past to unearth the truth. He foraged through piles of books, shared his time and enthusiasm, and gave me tidbits of wisdom I would not have stumbled upon otherwise. Historic Johnstown, Sir William Johnson’s town established so long ago, provided the inspiration for this novel. A roadside sign on the Arterial proves the meandering general, General George Izard, did lead his troops through our town as they made their way to Sacket’s Harbor. That small mention on a historical marker—that few even slow down to read—gave birth to this final installment in the Liberty series of novels.

  The locations are real as well as some of the key figures. Nicholas Stoner. Richard Dodge. Talmadge Edwards … and the major battles mentioned were part of the War of 1812, a slip of our history that is often overlooked, yet was a victory against England once again. We’ve no idea how close we came to losing our hard-won independence when the mother country set her sights on us once again after the Napoleonic Wars.

  While many key historical figures, places, and actual battles were used as the foundation for this story, building a framework for the fictional characters who seem so real, Charlotte, Benjamin, Jacob, and Rebekah are creations of my own. Richard Dodge and Talmadge Edwards lived and breathed in colonial times. After the Revolution ended, they found themselves mired in conflict yet again with the War of 1812. It is a snapshot in time in our history that is often overlooked, one in which many of the battles took place in New York.

  As for, Nicholas Stoner, that colorful figure is very real. If you are passing through Caroga Lake and you see the Nick Stoner Inn, gaze at a field across the road. Pull over. Take a moment to snap a photo. If you have the time, get out of the car and bridge the gap between past and present to admire the statue that looms large. You won’t be able to take your eyes off it once you let it grab your attention. A strong figure stands watch over the land that he so loved, fought for, and died on. His spirit lives on. In Ben, Charlotte, and all the characters of Liberty’s Legacy. In you … and me. This nation needs you to bear the torch and be a light in the darkness. Make sure the star-spangled banner will always wave, guiding us home to answer her call. We are liberty’s legacy in America, land of the free.

  Did you love Liberty’s Legacy? Then you should read Liberty’s Promise by Heidi Sprouse!

  Benjamin Willson and Charlotte Elizabeth Ross fall in love with one another amid the American Revolution, forming a bond that cannot be shattered by death—or time.The Battle of Johnstown tears them apart with one vicious, indifferent musket ball, but the two souls will find their way back to one another over two hundred and thirty-three years later as Ben Wilson and Charlotte Elizabeth Ross the Second.As the two reunited lovers share memo
ries of their lives so long ago, they unearth a journal that belonged to the son they created just before Benjamin fell. Expecting to learn his story in the pages of his book, they are unprepared to learn that it is a tribute to his stepfather, Jacob Cooper.Jacob had loved Charlotte since childhood, but the first time he saw her with Benjamin he knew any dream he’d ever had of claiming her for his own was hopeless. Worse, Jacob genuinely liked and respected Benjamin so he accepted his fate, although still tormented every time he saw the two of them together.But when Benjamin’s life drains away on a cold and lonely battlefield, Jacob steps in to help Charlotte pick up the pieces of her shattered soul. He knows Charlotte will never love him as she loved Benjamin, yet he marries her, takes on the role of father to Benjamin’s son, and raises the boy to understand the precious gift of his heritage—and freedom.Ben and Charlotte will become lost in the words of their son from the past as they learn about the torch that Jacob Cooper carried for his only love, and what it means to keep Liberty’s Promise.Availabe now from Heidi Sprouse and Salt Run Publishing.

  Read more at Heidi Sprouse’s site.

  About the Author

  Heidi Sprouse lives in upstate NY in historic Johnstown. She attended college at St. Rose in Albany, knowing all along her two loves were teaching and English. It took four years before she landed the teaching job of her dreams, but twenty years later she is still nurturing little ones in pre-K. She loves the privilege of watching brand-new little humans as they discover and begin to shape their own worlds.

  Knowing what she wants and going after it in relentless pursuit is Heidi’s gift. Deciding to become an author can be downright unnerving, but Heidi bit into the challenge, took off, and never looked back. Her perseverance proves success is not a matter of luck; it’s a matter of finding what speaks to your heart, and committing to do that thing until it makes a difference.