Love’s Betrayal

by DiAnn Mills

  Repeatedly Henry told himself God had a special woman intended for his life, and if not Delight then surely someone better. But he could think of no one finer than the woman who had stolen his heart.

  “Henry?” the one holding his thoughts whispered behind him. “Do you mind if I keep you company?”

  Warmth flowed through him. “Of course not. Ye cannot sleep?”

  She shook her head. “Charity is resting, though, and for that I am grateful.”

  Poor Delight. I know the pain of a heart wounded by love.

  With the flames licking at the log he had just added, she eased down to share his bench. “I thought we might talk since …”

  He quickly captured her gaze and held it for as long as she permitted. “Since we are waiting for James,” he said, finishing her sentence.

  Silence permeated the air, and she stared into the fire. “Yes, that, too. But I meant we could converse since you planned to enlist soon.”

  How sweet to concern herself with me in light of her feelings toward James, he thought. “In less than a week, I will be serving under General Gates.”

  “Perhaps you shall see Papa.”

  “I’d like nothing better than to fight with him.”

  She toyed with the cuff of her frock. “I would be most grateful if you’d tell him of our love and prayers.”

  “Aye, lass, I will. There’s no need to ask.”

  “What do you intend to do after the war?” She peered into his face, her large eyes innocent and … did he see fear? “I assume you will want to continue your weaving.”

  “My loom is me livelihood, but I have a desire to live among the dear people of Chesterfield. Your father requested I return here.”

  She smiled. “We would all like for you to make your home near us.”

  He chuckled. “Delight, I remember when ye detested the sight of me, and now ye want me near your family?”

  In the firelight, she blushed. “I remember, too. I am so glad those days are gone.”

  He memorized every inch of her lovely features. “Are there things you wish for me to do before I leave?”

  “I think not. We are ready for winter, thanks to your and Papa’s provision.”

  A strange, yet comforting silence fell upon them. He relished in it, promising himself these memories would warm the bitter winter days and nights ahead.

  “I’d like to ask you something, Henry.”

  He raised a brow. “By all means.”

  Her gaze darted about, and she appeared to have difficulty forming her words.

  Why did I initiate this conversation? Delight cringed with what she so desperately wanted to ask, troubled over what Henry might reply. She had contemplated this for too long. The thought plagued her worse than enduring baby Elijah’s cries when Mama forbid anyone to pick him up. She could not go on another day without knowing. Henry had acted so indifferently since the day Papa left. His impassiveness led her to believe he regretted his kiss. The notion of their brief embrace meaning little should have angered her, but instead the thought filled her with sadness.

  “Delight?”

  Oh, how I wish I had not pursued this matter. My mind should be on James and prayers for his safety, not myself.

  “What is tormenting ye? I can see the anguish in your face.”

  The fire crackled, sounding like musket fire, and it caused her to gasp.

  “Lass, it is only the fire.”

  “I know. Henry.” She rubbed her clammy palms together. “Remember the day Papa left, when you followed me to the far field?”

  He nodded.

  “And Charity came looking for us?”

  “I clearly recall every moment.”

  With a deep breath, she spoke the penetrating question. “Did you have any affections in your kiss?”

  Henry leaned forward, his words spoken in a whisper. “Did ye?”

  How can I answer without looking foolish? Dear Lord, this is difficult beyond measure.

  Bear rose on his haunches and stared at the door. A growl rumbled in his throat.

  “Easy.” He stroked the dog’s back. When the animal moved forward, Henry reached for the musket hanging above the fireplace.

  Bear knows James. He’d never growl at him. The dog barked, and Delight jumped.

  “Delight, go upstairs with your family,” Henry ordered. “Do not come down until I tell ye everything is safe.”

  She started to object, but the commanding tone in his voice stopped her from protesting. Still she did not move.

  “Now! This is not a time to argue.”

  “You might need assistance.”

  Henry raised an angry brow, and she hurried up the stairs. Someone other than James approached the house.

  Henry heard Delight’s light footsteps upon the stairs, but his sights remained on the door. The feel of the weapon in his hands gave him little reassurance. Those who roamed the night in search of mischief rarely came unarmed.

  With one hand on Bear in hopes of keeping the dog quiet, Henry stepped to the window and slipped his fingers between the shutters, easing one side open to see outside. The culprit might simply be another animal roaming beyond the door, but Henry had a feeling this was not the case.

  In the faint light of a half moon, he saw the outline of a wagon. The driver, wearing neither the uniform of a British soldier nor the varied garments of a patriot, leaned precariously to the side, as if inebriated or injured. Rather than open the door and possibly face trouble, Henry left Bear inside to protect the women. Releasing a heavy sigh, he stole out the back of the house.

  Moving slowly around the rear to the corner, he considered how darkness often masked the sounds of night. The noises seemed to come from the distance—the singing insects and an owl’s call. While he crept toward the front of the house, he strained to hear something revealing the wagon driver’s identity. Nothing met his painstaking gaze. When he reached the front, he studied the wagon’s outline. Not a soul loomed nearby, save the man, who looked ready to tumble to the ground.

  Henry scrutinized the wagon bed and focused on the peculiar shapes filling the entire area. Barrels. The driver must be James, and indeed he must have been badly injured not to cry out. Bear must have sensed the calamity.

  He moved to the wagon and worked his way around to the seat. Caution preceded his every breath for he knew not what might await him. “James?” A groan met his ears. The chap needed care, no matter who he was. Henry attempted to lift him in his arms while leaning against the wagon on his good leg. He feared dropping him, and with the man uttering nothing more than a whimper, the fall might kill him.

  Help me, Lord. I need to get him inside.

  Henry reached beneath the limp man and pulled him against his chest. He took a staggering step, determined to place one foot in front of the other until he could lay the man down within the house.

  The door opened and captured his attention. Delight, carrying a lantern, rushed out with Charity. Instantly the two young women were at his side. Delight assisted with the man’s legs and Charity held his shoulders and head.

  “You are an answer to prayer,” Henry said, “although I distinctly remember asking ye to stay inside.”

  “I watched from the window and assumed all was safe,” Delight said. “And I saw you needed help.”

  “Is it James?” Charity whispered.

  “I do not know, lass, but it most likely is. He’s injured, but I don’t know where.”

  “He looks like James.” She caught her breath, no doubt halting her tears. “Delight, please shine the lantern.”

  Charity gasped at the sight of their friend, his face smeared with dirt and blood. A gash from his head oozed fresh blood.

  “We’ll tend to him and offer prayers.” Delight’s compassion sounded tender against the stifled sobs of her sister. “Don’t worry, Charity. If he made the journey here, then he is strong.”

  Once inside, they carried him into the hall and placed him on Henry’s mattress.
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  “Stay here with James,” Delight said to her sister. “I will get a basin of water and see to bandages and herbs.”

  “Should we wake your mother?” Henry eased James’s arm from his waistcoat to make certain there were no other injuries. Charity knelt at his side and helped pull the coat under him while Henry lifted.

  “Let’s see the extent of his wounds first,” Charity said. She first saw the profuse bleeding from James’s side when she pulled his arm from the other sleeve. “Oh dear Lord, please spare him.” She peered into Henry’s face. “Mama will know what to do.” Rising to her feet, she disappeared up the stairs, the wisp of her skirts reminding him of a hummingbird’s wings.

  While Henry sought to make James comfortable, Delight returned with water and a cloth. She knelt in the same spot where she had once dressed Henry’s wounds. “How serious is he?”

  Henry hadn’t had ample time to assess his friend’s condition, but he did know the bleeding from his side needed to stop. “I have to find the source of this blood—either a knife or musket ball.”

  Delight held the lantern, neither flinching nor commenting about the open flesh.

  “A knife, lass. His head, too. These need to be sewn or the wounds will not heal properly.”

  “Either Mama or I can do it,” she said. “Blood usually makes Charity ill, but she may amaze us.” Delight pressed the cloth to James’s side to halt the profuse bleeding. Even so, red soon tinged her fingers.

  Father, he is far worse than I imagined. “How could Charity’s reaction vary from her disposition?”

  Delight smiled sadly. “She loves James, and I’m sure she would do anything to help him.”

  Henry tore the remains of his friend’s shirt away from the wound. How can both of these women love the same man without quarreling? I don’t understand their behavior, no, not at all. It occurred to him that he and James probably cared for Delight. He thought of James as a brother. Perhaps there rested the similarities.

  “Would you hold this for me, please?” Delight said.

  He held the cloth against the open flesh while she gingerly washed the area around it. Tiny lines etched around her eyes while she concentrated on cleaning a small portion of the surrounding area.

  “Thank you. I am afraid this isn’t as simple as when you were injured.”

  “Aye, but I had a fine nurse.” He refused to dwell on James’s serious condition. As a soldier, he had learned the value of a clear mind.

  “A surly one.” She smiled faintly.

  “She had a disagreeable patient.”

  Delight glanced behind them at the creaking stairs announcing Mama’s and Charity’s descent. The hum of their anxious voices intensified the critical situation.

  “Mama, I have water and bandages along with yarrow, but one of us will need to sew his wounds,” Delight said.

  At the sight of the seared flesh illuminated by the lantern light, Charity covered her mouth. In the next breath, she righted herself and offered to retrieve Mama’s sewing basket.

  “Aye, I will need it,” Mama said. Henry helped her kneel at James’s side.

  Charity swallowed hard while tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks. With a quick breath, she whirled around to fetch the basket.

  “We must make haste,” Mama said. “Is he conscious?”

  “I think he’s drifting in and out,” Henry said. “Only moans, and scant few of them.”

  “That is a blessing for now.” Mistress Butler brushed her long, gray mottled hair back behind her ears. Normally, she wore it in a bun at her nape. “From the looks of James, he must have rolled in the dirt during some scuffle.”

  Mixed with blood, the debris caused the open flesh to appear even more gruesome. Mama took nearly an hour to stitch up James’s head and left side. Her stitches were neat, whereas Delight knew hers would have been jagged and uneven. More than once, Delight stole a glimpse at Charity’s face, but her sister did remarkably well. She held James’s hand as if the man were conscious of her touch. Thankfully his state masked the painful sensations certainly raging through his body.

  “’Tis all I can do.” Mama wiped her brow with the back of her hand upon completion of the task. “James’s wounds will close and heal properly as long as fever and corruption don’t claim him.”

  Charity stroked his forehead. Even in the dim light, he looked fearfully white. “We must pray.”

  “I will,” Henry said. “Lord, we are all concerned about Your child here. He’s hurt bad and needs Your help. Guide us in how we can help him. And Father, we pray no corruption shall plague James’s body, but that Your power will touch him with divine healing.”

  He wondered what ill fate had befallen their friend. A thought occurred to him, and he mulled it over in his mind. What if James had been followed? Loyalists and redcoats alike did unspeakable things to patriots, especially those apprehended with messages and supplies. No one dare find any trace of James at the Butler home.

  Chapter 14

  I will take care of the horses and wagon.” Henry rose stiffly to his feet.

  “I’ll help,” Delight said, “as long as Charity will sit with James so Mama can rest.” She needed fresh air and time to ponder James’s ill fate.

  “Of course.” Charity reached to take Mama’s hand. “Go on back to bed, Mama. Morning will come soon enough, and little Elijah will be demanding his breakfast.”

  Their mother studied James a bit longer. “Do you promise to waken me if he grows worse?”

  “I give you my solemn word,” Charity said.

  Henry assisted Mama to her feet and did the same for Delight.

  “Would you like a cup of chamomile tea before retiring?” Delight said.

  Mama smiled wearily. “I think not. Once you and Henry are finished outside, perhaps you three would sleep intermittently in your vigil. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?”

  “I’ll see to it, Mistress Butler,” Henry said. “Do not concern yourself with their welfare. I will make sure they rest.”

  And who will urge you to do the same? Delight grabbed her shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders before grasping the lantern.

  Once outside, Henry drove the wagon to the back of the house, where he could hide both it and the horses inside the barn. He pulled the barn door shut, and with Delight’s aid, he fed and groomed the horses.

  Delight leaned against the side of a stall. “Henry, you never answered my question earlier.”

  “I believe I posed the same to ye.”

  Her thin shoulders rose and fell. “Must you torment me so?”

  Me dear Delight. It is I who is tormented. Henry looked at her steadily. “That is not my intent.”

  “Then were you trifling with me the day Papa went off to the army?”

  Henry knew he must respond, and he dared not lie. “I am leaving shortly, Delight. I don’t know when I shall return, but I assure you my kiss was with the utmost of affections.”

  Delight realized her desire for Henry’s reply was selfish in light of James’s grave wounds, but nevertheless she warmed with the sweet words. “Thank you, Henry. No one has ever given me such a lavish compliment.”

  “After tonight, perhaps we might talk?” His tone sounded wistful. “I mean once we are certain James is on the mend. I’m ashamed of myself for concentrating on my sentiments instead of placing my heart and mind into our friend’s care.”

  She glanced up and nodded. “I understand how you feel, but God does not expect us to grieve continuously.”

  A brief silence followed when she could think of nothing to say.

  “I want to see what’s in the barrels,” Henry said. “I know James has been smuggling supplies and provisions to the troops for some time. My guess is someone wanted what he carried.”

  He climbed onto the wagon and pried open one of the barrels with a crowbar. Delight held the lantern high, anxious to see the contents.

  “Corn,” she whispered as Henry allowed the kernels to flow between his
fingers. The sight somewhat disappointed her.

  “Quite possibly there is something else in the bottom.” Henry dug his hand deeper, nearly to his elbow. “Ah, lass. We may have a treasure here. Do you mind fetching me a bucket?”

  Once the desired item was obtained, she climbed onto the wagon bed beside him. Quickly he scooped the corn until his knuckles rapped onto a hard surface with a dull thud.

  “What do you think it is?” She glanced about as though they were being spied upon.

  “I think I know what we have here.” He pulled a wooden insert from the barrel. “Hold back the lantern, Delight. It’s gunpowder.”

  She stepped away from the wagon and drew in a deep breath. So this was why James had been attacked. “Henry, this needs to be delivered somewhere.”

  “Indeed, but until James regains consciousness, we can only speculate where. I searched him but found nothing. Didn’t really expect to. James is too sly to carry vital information on his person.”

  Delight well understood that precaution, which was one of the reasons she had assisted the patriots. Papa said James could read an item once and memorize it, definitely an asset to their cause. “I would gladly drive this wagon to its destination.”

  Henry replaced the wooden insert and picked up the bucket of corn. “I thought Elijah made you promise you wouldn’t involve yourself in any dangerous activities.”

  Irritation piqued her, although truth be told, she had momentarily forgotten her promise. “How did you know about that?”

  He poured the corn back into the barrel before replying. “He sensed you might have a difficult time keeping your word.”

  “I believe he would make an exception in this case.”

  “I think not.” Henry replaced the barrel’s lid and climbed down from the wagon. “If he had not felt concern for you, then he might not have alerted me to your promise.”