Fields of Fire

by Carol Caldwell

  “You have it. Now go ready yourself while Hug and I see to a wagon and some workhorses.”

  The man was like a chameleon with his moods, she thought, stepping from the table when he spoke again.

  “And Jalene, you’ve only experienced a sampling of what takes place in taverns. I’m not trying to frighten you, but besides the dangerous situation to come with Donnegan, some of the men we’ll encounter could get aggressive in their rowdiness. Are you still up to it?”

  Was he actually concerned for her safety, or was he now wondering if her presence might be detrimental? “Aye. I haven’t changed my mind, nor will I be a hindrance to the plan. I’ll gather my belongings and meet you outside.” She retreated to her bedchamber, dreading the long rough journey ahead and hoping she hadn’t spoken too quickly or foolishly.

  * * * *

  It was early morning of the following day when Taylor finally brought the wagon to a halt in front of a weather-beaten frame structure along the quay. According to Hug, the casks were being held there until further instruction, rather than being hauled to Dublin as was usual. She watched the two jump to the ground.

  “With the help of the guards, it will take only a short time to load the casks, and we’ll depart,” Taylor told her.

  “What makes you think they’ll hand over the goods so readily? You and Hug don’t look like revenue agents,” she said from where she sat atop the open wagon, indicating his disguise.

  “We carry papers, official documents, but not on our person,” Hug told her.

  “Aye,” Taylor added, “One reason it took so long for you and me to be released from gaol, was that my papers weren’t on me.”

  “Here I thought you’d both charm your way into taking the casks.” She was teasing, but part of her believed they could have persuaded the guards.

  “Madam, I have never charmed a man,” Taylor roguishly informed her.

  “Nor I,” Hug said, just as playfully.

  “And, I think Hug will agree with me when I say, we’re not about to start now.” He saluted Hug who returned the salute, and the two marched off.

  She laughed and watched after them until they disappeared through a narrow entryway. Resting her back against the rough wood, she turned her thoughts to the previous day’s tiring journey. It had been almost midnight when they at last arrived in Sligo. Eight hours of arduous travel had wearied all three—so much so that they unanimously agreed to skip any late-night meal, and to retire immediately.

  Now, after a good night’s rest and a simple, but generous breakfast of plain brown bread and roasted eggs, she was prepared for the day ahead. The sun appeared over the horizon, and the few scattered clouds, high in the sky, guaranteed a rain-free trip for at least the morning hours.

  A huge double door swung open and caught her attention. Taylor and Hug, along with two guards, started loading the back of the wagon. When the last cask was set in place, she spoke to Taylor as he paused to study the load. “My father used to call these small casks ‘back-breakers.’ ”

  “He was right. They look like they weigh much less than they actually do.”

  “Aye. My father said that many a man who was not used to lifting the weight injured his back.” She sat sideways in the wagon to study the fifteen or so barrels behind her.

  “I was hoping the shipment would consist of these ‘back-breakers’ as your father so aptly put it. I doubt Hug and I could carry the larger size alone, and that would have been a big inconvenience.”

  “When are you going to destroy Blackwater’s markings?” she asked, anxious for the deed to be done.

  “We’ll leave the casks as they are until right before we hand over the goods.” He began to walk away.

  She stared at the goods stacked as long and as deep as the wagon. “But surely we’re not going to travel with the casks openly displayed.”

  “Nay. We’ll scatter straw over the load. If our concealed cargo raises suspicions, and we’re stopped by any other revenue agents or the authorities—I have the proper documentation.” He tucked a few loose strands of his dark blond hair back beneath his black wig. “The documentation won’t help us though if highwaymen…”

  “You mean we could get robbed?”

  “Exactly, my dear. This is a real problem to all legitimate shippers. We don’t need to advertise what we’re really carrying. Don’t tell me you’ve never considered it.”

  She wasn’t going to admit that she honestly had never thought about it. Sure, she knew there was always the possibility of being robbed by pickpockets in Dublin or stopped by thieves when traveling the desolate country roads. She was aware that smuggling took place, but somehow it never pertained to them. Her world before her parents’ deaths had been all safe.

  Her father and James had always handled shipping. She saw the wagons haul the whiskey away and return empty. Perhaps they never had any problems, or if so, hadn’t mentioned them so as not to worry her or her mother.

  She must have looked overly distraught for Taylor said, “It doesn’t sound very comforting, but don’t worry. If we are approached, we’ll simply turn over our goods. It’s not worth risking any unnecessary harm to ourselves.”

  “Aye, and keep in mind that the highwaymen don’t know if we’re armed or not either,” Hug tried to encourage her. “They’re more apt to take a risk when they know what’s being hauled.” Both took a seat on either side of her atop the wagon, and Taylor urged the horses to a start.

  * * * *

  Numerous hours and town taverns later, the threesome had weaved a weary trail some twenty miles long, but only a mere ten miles to the north of Sligo. Jalene was pleased that their dealings that day had gone smoothly.

  They had cheerfully entered each tavern and taken a seat or stood nearest to other patrons. Even during their stops in the morning hours, men could be found patronizing the establishments. With people anxious to hear any sort of news from anywhere, a conversation with them almost immediately ensued. Suggestive comments were often tossed at her, and the shamrock patch on her cheek proved to be a great source of joking and entertainment. Taylor told her it was best to laugh along with them. But he apologized for the occasions when he grabbed her breasts for the benefit of the patrons. She wasn’t going to let him know that the times he kissed her to keep up appearances had pleasured her immensely. Part of her wished he had meant them.

  After the men had become quite friendly and talkative, Hug or Taylor would order a round of drinks for everyone. This was always greeted with applause and put them in even better favor. It was strange at first for her to sit in a tavern amid a table full of men, listening to their conversation. However, at each new establishment, she became more accustomed to it. At the right moment and with the mood set, Taylor would call the proprietor aside and ask him if he was interested in purchasing good whiskey for considerably less than market.

  As Taylor predicted, each proprietor acted as expected, by asking him if the goods were stolen. He’d answer nay, and they’d agree to purchase. When she had asked Taylor what would happen if he told the proprietor that the whiskey was stolen, he explained that no one would ever admit to it. It was simply a formality for the purchaser’s sake so he could say he bought legally. Anyone caught and proven to have knowingly purchased illegal goods could be arrested, and according to Taylor, some proprietors took more chances than others. She knew Taylor had to overlook this aspect, because their mission was not to trick or destroy tavern owners and legitimate businesses— only to stop those guilty of smuggling.

  Shortly after these formalities, Hug or Taylor would go outdoors to the wagon, dig underneath the straw for a cask, and with a knife shave off the Blackwater Distillery markings before handing over the whiskey.

  Taylor’s parting words to the proprietor would be “’Tis grand doing business with you,’ accompanied with a pronouncement as to the trio’s next destination.

  The only failings to an otherwise successful day were that no one had seen anyone fitting the d
escription of Donnegan. And by the end of the day Hug was acting like a little mother and begrudged Taylor’s pawing Jalene. She finally had to insist that she’d understood Taylor’s reasoning and wasn’t offended. Taylor had been keeping in character. It was all part of the performance.

  Now, in the dark of night as they approached their final destination, she wondered if she should ask to speak with Hug in private. She desperately needed to tell him her feelings. She didn’t want to cause an old friendship to turn sour. Another day like today might just do it.

  The structures of a tiny seaside town suddenly appeared before them. After a few moments she asked neither Taylor or Hug in particular, “How do you know there’s an inn here? From what I’ve seen, all these small towns always have a tavern, but very few have accommodations.”

  “Knights’ Head is not far from here,” Taylor said, “so I’m familiar with this area. Tweed’s has rooms.”

  “And nice ones,” Hug added. “You’ll be surprised. It’s the only place from here to Dublin that caters to the weary traveler.”

  “We’ll get you settled first, then see about the horses and casks. We’ve peddled half our goods, but I hadn’t expected otherwise.” He brought the wagon to a halt in front of Tweed’s. “A man would have to be an idiot to decline to purchase at the prices we’ve offered.”

  He helped her down and at the same time told Hug, “Wait out here. I’ll get us checked in and we can both see about securing the wagon for the night.”

  She was thankful that Hug hadn’t argued with him about coming inside too. Once she passed the entryway all thoughts concerning that problem fled. Unlike the other inns, this one was brightly lit and sparkling clean. Several feet away a staircase stood before them. To the right of the passageway from where they stood were sofas and chairs arranged around a fireplace. Two corners of the room were arranged for card playing or board games. On the left of the passageway, was a small library, and sectioned off from it were prettily set tables for dining.

  “Come,” Taylor said, after securing rooms.

  As she followed, she noticed the disapproving frown on the innkeeper’s face. “I don’t think the innkeeper likes my being here.”

  “He doesn’t, but I assured him, we’d keep you from sight. This is one of the few places respectable ladies can spend the night without being harassed. Sort of like the Eye of the Swan where you stayed in Dublin.”

  She nodded to show she understood, but never had she felt so discriminated against and unwanted. The innkeeper needn’t worry about her making her presence known.

  Once in their room, Taylor said, “Rest awhile,” and walked over to light a candle on a table near the lone window in the room. “When I return, we’ll eat. Don’t open the door to anyone. I don’t care if they say they’re King George himself.” He tossed her satchel on one bed, his baggage on the other, and left.

  Hug hadn’t exaggerated when he said Tweed’s had nice rooms. Excluding Taylor’s mother’s beautifully decorated guest bedchamber, this was the first room since ‘The Eye’ that was tastefully adorned for comfort. Both beds contained pillows and fluffy comforters that matched the drapery. An uncracked chamber pot was tucked away under each bed and a carpet covered the floor. Several paintings depicting the countryside in different seasons hung on the walls above each bed.

  A warm, tired feeling passed over her. They’d survived the day without encountering any highwaymen and sold half of the casks. At last she could rest in real comfort. She removed her shawl and shoes and immediately lay down. The candle was a stub, but she was certain Taylor would return before it burned out. Secure in this knowledge, she closed her eyes to rest them for a moment.

  From the far corners of her mind, she heard a knocking sound. Go away, she mentally urged it and covered her head with her arms. The knocking persisted, causing her to sit up in bed to a dark room. She glanced at the door to the stream of light filtering underneath. “Who’s there?”

  The knocking ceased and a voice on the other side of the door said, “I saw you come inside, and you smiled at me. I’ll show you a real good time. Name your price.”

  She didn’t recall smiling at anyone except a fat man who was sharing his meal at one of the pretty tables with a small, white-haired dog who was equally as fat as he. The thought of the blubbery man coming near her filled her with disgust. “Go away. I meant nothing by it. I’m a respectable woman.” She waited for the man’s response from the other side of the door. Instead, she heard muffled voices.

  A short period of silence followed before she heard the door handle turn. She jumped off the bed, wondering if Taylor had left the key in the door expecting her to lock it after him, or if he had done so himself. Fool, she whispered to herself. Now was not the time to be considering such matters. Before she could find out, the door swung open, and she squeaked at the intruder, “Go away or I’ll scream.”

  “Scream all you want, sweetness. I paid for this room,” Taylor said before he grinned at her. He carried a fresh candle in one hand and a package wrapped in brown paper.

  “I’m so glad to see you. Did you see a fat man outside my door?” she asked, watching as he set the candle down on the same small table, tossed the package on the bed she had lain upon, and came to stand in front of her.

  “Aye, and I told him in more colorful language than I’d use speaking to you—that if he didn’t want to see certain parts of his lower anatomy served on a platter to his dog, he’d better leave you the hell alone.”

  His remark brought unladylike thoughts to mind, and she flushed. She placed her cold hands on her cheeks to cool her.

  Taylor laughed and must have guessed what she was thinking for he said, “You have a dirty mind. I could have been referring to his toes.”

  She did not deny that she had thought he was talking about the man’s sex, but defended herself. “Is it any wonder I think such thoughts, hanging around with the likes of you?”

  “Ah, I love it when you compliment me.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her soundly and released her before she could protest.

  Instead of chastising him for the knee-weakening stolen kiss, she spoke in a serious tone, “The thought has crossed my mind that I’ll never be able to act like a lady again.”

  His grey-blue eyes gazed deeply into her amber ones and in a similar serious tone, he replied, “You’ll always be a lady—but not in bed.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough, sweetness.”

  “I don’t like your answer.” She assumed a defiant stance with her hands on her hips.

  “I think you will.” He smiled and placed his fingertips lightly over her mouth to prevent her protest. “Let it be. I’m tired. You’re tired, and we’re to meet Hug for supper before we can get some sleep. Open the package.” He motioned to the bed.

  “For me? What is it?” Unable to hide her excitement, she tore at the wrappings until its contents were recognizable as a midnight blue gown, much like the one she currently wore.

  He reached into his waistcoat pocket and handed her a matching face patch in the shape of a crescent.

  “Oh, Captain, it will be such a treat to wear something different! Where did you find a gown at this hour?”

  “At the same place I procured the one you’re wearing. I’ve carried this one with me all along, hoping it might please you after spending days in the green gown. Sorry, but the garment still must befit the character you’re playing. I know you must be longing to wear something more respect—”

  This time, her fingertips softly touched his mouth to silence him. “You don’t need to explain.” She stood up on tip-toe to kiss his cheek. His arms instantly encircled her, and he turned his face so her lips met his mouth instead.

  “Hm,” he murmured against her lips. “I should have given you this package a lot sooner.”

  “Is a gift all it takes to receive your favors, Jalene?” came Hug’s voice from the entryway.

&n
bsp; She and Taylor broke apart, and together they faced his indignant presence standing in the entryway. “Maybe next time you should close the door,” Hug said.

  “It isn’t what you think,” she weakly lied.

  “Oh, isn’t it? I was curious as to what was taking you both so long. Carry on.” He waved his hand at them in dismissal. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Hug, please wait,” she pleaded from outside the door as he stormed down the passageway towards his room.

  “Captain, I must go talk to him and explain about us,” she hurriedly said.

  “Aye,” Taylor answered with a grim expression on his face, “and next you better explain about us to me.”

  Chapter 18

  Hug’s grey wig sat where it had been carelessly tossed on the wooden floor. The grey object lay partially hidden in the shadows along the wall. It looked like a giant cat about to lunge at her. That would be preferable to hurting Hug’s feelings, Jalene told herself. The damage was done, however, and he deserved an explanation.

  “Hug, I need you sitting when I tell you this. Please put down the towel. You can remove the face powder afterwards.” She tugged on his arm, encouraging him to come sit next to her on the bed.

  When he reluctantly complied, she took his hands in hers and stared up at him. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, she would have smiled at his half-powdered face and matted hair. “Taylor knows that women get bored with wearing the same clothes over and over,” she began her explanation, “so he gave me another gown. I was truly delighted and acted so, giving no thought to my actions except to say thanks.”

  “Do you always kiss someone on the mouth as a way of thanking them?” Hug interrupted, pulling his hands from hers.

  “Nay. I do not. I meant to kiss his cheek and well ... somehow my kiss landed on his mouth.” She didn’t want him any more angry with the captain than he already was.