by Tamara Gill
She was still fussing over the three horses when Sean returned with Thomas Newbigging. As Sean was presenting him to O’Neill, Jaclyn took the opportunity to study the Canadian.
A well-fed man in middle-age, Newbigging was dressed in what Jaclyn assumed were his town clothes—a dark frock coat and lighter trousers and a fine, creamy white linen shirt tied at the neck with a white neckcloth. On his feet he wore tall black riding boots. The picture he presented was one of prosperity and gentility. He was clearly an establishment figure and O’Neill was responding to him in that manner.
“Mr. Newbigging,” O’Neill said. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
Newbigging’s face was set in angry lines. Unlike Sean, O’Neill and many of the other Fenians, he did not sport a splendid Poncho Villa mustache. He did have bushy sideburns, though, and his hair curled around his ears. “My orchard is virtually gone.”
“I must apologize for any inconvenience—”
“Inconvenience? You call destroying the work of a lifetime, inconvenience?”
“It was necessary—”
“The devil it was! There are plenty of open fields in these parts that you could have camped on and done no damage. Why not set up on one of them?”
“From a military point of view your orchard suits our purpose best, Mr. Newbigging. It has proximity to a water supply, it is close to the main roadway and it was not far from our landing site.”
“I repeat. There are fields that would suit you just as well!”
“But none with a ready supply of trees, sir. We needed the trees in your orchard to build a defensive breastwork in case we are attacked.”
“So you chose my orchard deliberately?”
O’Neill nodded.
A muscle jumped in Newbigging’s cheek. “After our first meeting when I told you I wanted you off my property, I rode in to Fort Erie to see Dr. Kempson, the reeve. I came out to find my horse had been stolen. I was forced to walk back here wearing boots that were not designed for that activity!”
Jacqui resisted a smile. Thomas Newbigging was already thoroughly annoyed. It tickled her to know that things were only going to get worse as the day rolled on.
“Mr. Newbigging, it is unfortunate your horse was confiscated while you were in town observing our actions.”
“I was not in Fort Erie gawking at your men! I am a member of the town council and I had gone there to consult with Kempson and the other councilors as to what was to be done to maintain civil order.” By now Newbigging was in a towering rage. Fury shimmered out of him in palpable waves. “What I found was a town overrun by your people, O’Neill. But...” He paused and smiled with malicious satisfaction. “You were too late! Our Superintendent of the Railway—a diligent man!—was able to ensure that all of the rolling stock steamed out of Fort Erie before your minions secured the town. And, I might add, a telegram was sent to the authorities in Toronto, alerting them to our plight. Your time here, O’Neill, is going to be short.”
Thomas Newbigging in a temper was pretty impressive, Jaclyn thought with considerable delight. This man was vastly different from the one who wrote careful submissions to the government outlining the losses he suffered as a result of the invasion. In those documents he had come across as a reserved man, thoroughly polite in a time-honored Canadian way, perhaps a little pompous with it. She certainly hadn’t expected to find him a man of powerful, angry energy.
Colonel O’Neill lifted a hand dismissively. “I fear you are mistaken, Mr. Newbigging. The Canadian people will rise up to free themselves of the shackles of British rule.”
Newbigging laughed. “Nonsense! No one here wants to be free of the old country. We know that Britain will look after us. Even now, the government is gathering an army to chase you out of our country. You will be gone within the week.”
“I have to disagree, Mr. Newbigging.”
Newbigging took a step forward. Sean moved to intercept him. Jaclyn watched wide-eyed with enjoyment. None of this had made it into the historical documents.
“Do yourself a favor,” Newbigging said, lifting a clenched fist. “Take your men and go back to the States now. There will be no rising to support you. You are on a fruitless quest.”
“You are wrong, Mr. Newbigging. You speak for those who own property and have a place in the government of this land. We speak for those who do not, for those who hate the yoke of British rule and would rather die than live in slavery under it. Those are the people who will rise in support of us.”
Newbigging stared at the Fenian colonel, then he made a rude noise in his throat and shook his head. “I fear you will have a long wait, O’Neill.” He looked around at his vandalized orchard. Most of the trees were down and the Fenian soldiers were busy digging a protective ditch and building wall around the encampment—the breastworks O’Neill had described. “You’ve destroyed my orchard, you know. If you won’t go back to the States, at least get off my land.”
At that O’Neill smiled. He had a particular, rather wry, sense of humor that surfaced at odd moments, Jaclyn had discovered.
Now O’Neill said, “I can at least promise you that, Mr. Newbigging. We plan to be on the move very soon.”
From the way his eyes narrowed as he frowned, Thomas Newbigging didn’t like that answer. Sean moved restlessly, apparently sensing danger. One of the horses snorted and stamped its feet. Newbigging turned his attention to Jaclyn.
He assessed her with hard, narrowed eyes, still flickering with a fierce, barely contained anger.
Oh, help, she thought, I’m in trouble now.
“What are you doing here?” he said.
Jaclyn breathed a little easier. There was nothing to tell Sean or O’Neill that she was not what she’d claimed to be. “I’m looking after the Baileys’ horses,” she said, opting to stick to certain obvious truths.
“The boy’s my prisoner,” Sean interjected. “We captured him when we landed.”
“What is it then? Are you prisoner? Or are you one of those who are going to rise up to free yourself from the yoke of British rule?”
The scorn in his voice was obvious. Jaclyn was more intrigued than ever. “I’m a prisoner. S...er...Major O’Dell promised Mr. Bailey that he would be careful of the horses so he’s got me, um, guarding them.”
Newbigging snorted. “I can see they’ve stolen Jim Bailey’s Sunny Girl.” He glanced at the saddle on her back. “I suppose they’ve broken the spirit on the poor creature already.”
“Oh, no! Mr. Newbigging, Sean is really great with horses. Yeah, he’s riding Sunny Girl, but she doesn’t mind. He jumped her over a fence and she galloped and galloped and when he came back they were friends.”
“That’s enough, Jack.”
Newbigging shot Sean a short, almost amused glance. “He’s your prisoner, is he?”
A rueful smile lifted the edge of Sean’s mouth. “Yes, sir.”
“See you treat him as well as the horse, then.” Newbigging turned back to Jaclyn. “If you’ve any trouble, come up to the house. I’ll look out for you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Newbigging. But I’m fine. I think.”
Newbigging nodded. “Colonel O’Neill, I’ll take my leave of you now. Consider my words. You’re best off going back to the States.”
“That is not possible, sir.”
“A pity,” Thomas Newbigging said. He turned on his heel and strode toward his house, shaking his head as he surveyed the destruction of his once thriving orchard.
“Do you think he’s right, Colonel?” Sean asked.
“Men like Newbigging have no idea what the people below them feel,” O’Neill said. The suppressed passion in his voice made Sean stare. Jaclyn whistled softly. Evidently O’Neill had some issues he had to work out.
“I meant, that the British will already be amassing a force against us, sir.”
O’Neill colored, but when he replied he was once more the cool, imperturbable commanding officer. “If the Canadian officials were
able to get a message off before the telegraph was cut, then, yes, I’d say Mr. Newbigging was correct. The British are even now preparing to meet us in battle. Dismissed, Major.”
***
O’Neill was right about the British reaction, Jaclyn thought. Events were now moving swiftly as Canadian volunteer units were mustered and a battalion of British regulars was dispatched to the Niagara region.
“What time is it, Sean?” She wished her watch worked. All she knew was that it was after dawn and before noon.
He looked up, squinting slightly. “Mid-morning.”
Jaclyn smiled mischievously. He’d forgotten to remind her to call him Major. She took that as a victory of sorts. “I guess you must be pretty hungry too.”
He looked over at her, a small smile on his beautifully defined mouth. “Is that your way of reminding me you want your breakfast?”
“Well... It’s been a long time since supper.”
“That it has.” Sean took off his hat and wiped sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. He combed back his thick black hair with his fingers before he returned the hat to his head.
“It’s going to be a hot day.” Jaclyn could feel moisture beginning to bead between her breasts and she wanted to rub it away, just as Sean had rubbed the sweat from his brow. She couldn’t though, just as she couldn’t take off her vest, for to do so would immediately identify her as a female. She wasn’t sure what the Fenians would do if they discovered her sex, but she did know that women in the nineteenth century led far more circumscribed lives than she was prepared to accept. The last thing she wanted was to be locked up in someone’s back room for her own safety. So she’d cling to her disguise for as long as she could and endure the discomfort of a hot spring day.
Sean nodded absently. He was scrutinizing the camp, watching the activity going on.
Provisions have begun to arrive, bringing with them the noise of horses, the creak of harness and the clatter of metal wheels. Some of the carts were driven by Fenians, while others were being handled by civilians, evidently the Canadian owners. When a horse whinnied in the distance the black Jaclyn was holding jerked up his head. Sunny Girl shifted uneasily. Jaclyn soothed them as best she could and when she turned back she found Sean watching her.
“A picket line has been set up at what used to be the edge of the orchard. Take the horses there and tie them. Tell the soldier in charge that the chestnut is for my use and the black for Colonel O’Neill’s. When you’re finished come and find me. I’m going to check on what arrangements have been made for the provisions and for cooking food.”
“Okay.” Jaclyn looked dubiously over her shoulder at the three horses. If they played along, she’d be okay. If one of them decided to be difficult, like the stupid black, which was showing great interest in the arriving carts, she was in trouble.
A smile flickered on Sean’s mouth. “As you are still a prisoner I’ll detail one of the soldiers to escort you to the picket line.”
The soldier he chose was a young man hardly more than a boy. The Fenian took the reins of Sunny Girl and the black from Jaclyn, leaving her with the peaceful gray.
“Why did you join the Fenian army?” Jaclyn asked as they threaded their way through Fenians trimming downed fruit trees for the breastworks.
“I came to America to make a better life for myself. In Ireland my family worked the land, but could never hope to own any. I’m one of ten children, most of them girls. My pa saved up and chose the strongest of me and my brothers to come to the New World. I was the one he picked, though I’m not the oldest. Far from it.” The black pulled at the rein. “Here now, we’ll have none of that,” he said, shortening the lead.
His accent was even thicker than Sean’s or Colonel O’Neill’s. Jaclyn found herself lulled by the musical rhythm of it. “That doesn’t explain why you’re a Fenian now.”
“I landed in New York in ’63. It was the third year of the war and the Union needed men. I joined up and was sent off to serve in General Sherman’s army.”
Jaclyn had heard of Sherman. He was the Union officer who had crushed the Confederacy and burned Atlanta. His ruthlessness had terrified the people of the time, both in the South and in the Canadas.
This young Fenian soldier didn’t look much like a ruthless killer. With his peaked cap pushed back on his head, his black hair spilled out over his forehead, giving him a boyish look. He was dressed in the dark blue tunic and trousers of the Union army, but the uniform didn’t fit very well. It was a bit too long in the arms and rather loose. With that lovely lilting way of speaking and clothing that looked as if it had been handed down from his big brother, he seemed more of a good-natured kid than a war-hardened veteran.
“So what was it like being in Sherman’s army?”
His open, cheerful expression transformed into something that sent a shiver up Jaclyn’s spine. Maybe this kid wasn’t all sunshine and light after all.
“Nothing could stop General Sherman. We killed those who got in our way and burned their houses.” He spat, indicating his opinion of the Confederacy.
Jaclyn wrinkled her nose and resisted the urge to chide him.
“Fancy big houses they were, like the mansions of the gentry back in the old sod. We took their valuables, used their women and freed their slaves before we fired those houses. After we were gone there was nothing left that anyone would want to keep.”
He spoke in such a normal tone that the events sounded commonplace, which perhaps they were to this young man and others like him. Sean had served in Sherman’s forces. Had he burned and raped and stolen so often that it was the rule and not the exception?
“What? Nothing to say, boy?”
Startled by her companion’s harsh, belligerent tone, Jaclyn said, “Why did you do it?”
The young soldier shot her the look of contempt that the military reserved for civilians who didn’t—couldn’t—understand the realities of a soldier’s life. “We had orders. We obeyed them like we were supposed to.”
“Well, there are orders and there are orders. Some orders you shouldn’t obey.”
His lips thinned. “We did what we did.” Sunny Girl chose that moment to shy at some real or imagined danger and tried to pull away. The Fenian jerked hard on the reins.
“Watch it!” Jaclyn said. “Sean’ll be plenty mad if you hurt that horse.” They walked in silence for a few moments. “I don’t think you liked the army much. Why did you join the Fenians, then?”
He shrugged. “We were told this was a frontier with plenty of land for everyone. We would come in, subdue the settlers and win them over to our cause, then we’d settle ourselves.”
Jacqui had known that the Fenian Brotherhood had used the promise of free land to entice recruits, but hearing it stated with such trusting belief by a young soldier who’d seen enough ugliness to be cautious, gave it an impact it didn’t have in her own era. There was no time to delve further, though, for they had reached the picket line.
There were already a dozen or more horses tied here, dozing in the sun, their tails switching flies while they awaited human use. Delighted, Jaclyn decided it was an equine parking lot.
She held the black’s reins while the soldier tied Sunny Girl, then she tied the gray while he secured the black. With the horses settled, her escort nodded and headed back to his unit. Jaclyn wandered down the picket line, patting the noses of the horses as she looked for the man in charge.
She found him sleeping peacefully under one of the few remaining trees, located at the far end of the picket. Or she thought she did. As he was wearing quite ordinary civilian clothes she couldn’t be sure. There was a gun propped up against the tree, however. This had to be one of the Fenians.
He didn’t rouse when she cleared her throat, or when she said hesitantly, “Uh, sir?”
Jaclyn stomach rumbled and she thought about Sean and breakfast. Enough was enough. She wanted this guy up and doing so she could leave her message and get on with her morning. “Wake up,” sh
e said.
He didn’t move.
Now what? She cleared her throat again, this time not to wake him, but to prepare herself and deepen her voice. Then she bellowed, “Attention, soldier!”
His eyes flew open and he was on his feet in a burst of energy that had Jaclyn blinking. He stood stiffly until he realized there was no one around but her, then he relaxed and glared at her. “What do you want, boy?”
“Major O’Dell sent me with three horses—the chestnut, the gray and the black at the end of the picket line. He says you’re to take special care of them because they are for Colonel O’Neill’s use only.”
The soldier eyed her for a minute then he nodded and prepared to settle down again.
Jaclyn had taken the measure of this guy now. Unlike Sean, who seemed to be an A-type personality and was probably a workaholic, this guy slacked off until someone with a stronger character forced him into activity. Jaclyn wasn’t going to let this bozo off the hook yet. She wanted to make sure he knew what he was supposed to be doing, so she shook her head decisively. “Come with me. I want you to see the horses so you’ll know which ones they are and stop anyone who wants to take them away.”
The guard glared at her, but he followed her meekly. When she pointed out the horses, he put his hand on his heart and said, “I’ll guard them with my life. That satisfy you?” He then ambled back to his tree and his nap.
There was nothing more Jaclyn could do. She went to find Sean.
