Another silent prayer slipped through the enclosing panic, and the reply was instant. Thank you, Lord. God might not be pleased with what he had done, but ’twas clear Providence would look after Hannah.
“I will make this right,” he said, wishing his pledge were enough to dry the sorrows from her eyes.
In a quick about-face, Philo marched to the door, speaking as he went. “I’m going to the raid.” He paused at the door and twisted to look at Higley. “I don’t recommend you try and stop me.”
* * *
“You are going where?” Hannah lunged.
But her father didn’t stop, didn’t turn to look when she cried after him—only ran.
She looked frantically to Higley, who stared through the open door where Philo had gone. He’d said he wished to make it right, and as much as she wanted to believe that were true, there was little that told her she could trust him.
Grabbing her skirts, she raced across the room and snatched Higley by the arm. “Will you just let him go?”
Higley’s angled jaw ticked as if part of his mind were running after Philo’s retreating form, the other part calculating. “I will let him go. But not alone.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Thighs burning from exertion, lungs afire, Joseph ran from the house. The frigid winter air did nothing to cool the anger that flamed him. Philo. The man had always found reason to hate Joseph for his love of Hannah, and now it seemed he would have his revenge.
At the first horse he came to, Joseph leapt onto the saddle and kicked the animal into a run as a clamor of commotion defamed the night’s earlier calm. Pitman barked orders from the front step. Soldiers splashed through ice-covered puddles in the road. Joseph tugged his borrowed mount right, praying that amidst the fray, his path would be lost to his pursuers.
Once in the covering of the wood, he was forced to slow his pace, which only escalated his pulse. Time was fleeting, and its value inestimable. This note must make it to Washington.
Joseph growled and yanked the horse sideways only seconds before they barreled into a hidden tree stump. Grinding his teeth, he opened his heart toward heaven. Only Providence could help him now.
He stopped in the wood, glancing around at the eerie quiet that hovered in the midnight black. Where were the Patriots? Had they already fled? Who had the muskets?
Devil’s spit. Where was Nathaniel?
Lungs heaving, muscles flexed and full of blood, Joseph dismounted. Spying through the wood, he squinted, cursing the lack of moon. He could make out nothing but shadowed forms in the yard in front of the barn. There were only a handful of remaining soldiers, it would seem. Though more were on their way, that was certain.
A shadowed figure rose ten yards to the left. From the lack of coat and crouched way he stood, ’twas clear the man was a Patriot, ready to dash for safety. Throwing a whisper as far as he could, Joseph called out to him. “Halt!”
But the man ran, and Joseph gave chase. He took his chance and spoke the code word Nathaniel had told him. “Fox!”
The man stopped hard, but his posture was ready to start again. Like a frightened animal, the Patriot’s eyes were round, his breath loud and quick.
Joseph took him by the arm. “What’s happened here?” The man didn’t answer, so Joseph gripped harder. “Tell me, man. Where are the guns? Did the Patriots get them safely away?”
He shook his head. “Have you not seen?”
“Tell me!”
“We got them away.” His body was trembling, and ’twas then Joseph noticed the slick of blood trickling down the side of his face. “But not before—”
“Where are Captain Donaldson and Dr. Smith?”
Joseph released his hold, and the man took a few steps backward, preparing once more to run. “They made it away, but not before four of us were shot. A few taken.” He spun and gasped as if he’d heard something. “Get to safety while you can.”
Turning, he dashed through the snow-crusted wood. Dear God. ’Twas worse than he’d thought. Four shot? How many taken?
Something firm and hard struck him in the back, and he stumbled forward.
“Here’s another one, Lieutenant!”
Joseph circled back and cocked his arm for impact, but resisted by some unseen hand. The eyes of the young Redcoat in front of him appeared ready to bulge from his head.
“Mr. Young?”
Joseph lowered his arm. “Reece?”
The faint light reflected in the boy’s questioning stare. “What…what are you—”
“What is it Reece?”
Joseph gripped the boy at the shoulders, impaling him with a dozen sharp petitions. His voice was a raspy whisper. “Let me go, Reece. I beg of you.”
The call from the yard came again. “Reece? Who goes there?”
“Uh…” Reece shrank back, face pinched and voice wavering. “Uh…I’ve just…”
“Well…this is a pleasant surprise, Mr. Young.”
Joseph’s spine jerked straight at the familiar dark sound, and he dropped his hands from Reece.
Twisting back, it took Herculean strength not to plow his fists across the man’s face. “Greene.”
So Higley had been right.
Greene tilted sideways to look past Joseph, slapping Reece with a glare that would no doubt leave a mark. “When I ask you a question, I expect an immediate answer.”
Reece bobbed his head and stepped out of Joseph’s shadow. “Aye, sir.”
“Make yourself useful to Pryer.”
After a shallow bow, Reece finished the last ten feet through the wood, leaving Joseph to fight his need to destroy the enemy without the company of one whose obvious innocence might stay his hand.
But even without Reece, Joseph knew he couldn’t retaliate. There were far too many others, and he’d be too quickly overtaken.
Failure was a bitter reward for all he and Hannah had done. Their work was discovered, their message thwarted, and now, without God’s intervention, their very lives would be ended.
“I’m glad you’ve come.” Greene yanked on his arm and led him toward the yard where Reece had gone. “I may have been banished, but it served my purposes well. I have never stopped trying to discover who it was that was feeding messages to the Patriots. Seeing your cousin in Sandwich with known rebels was enough to solidify my suspicions. I knew you two were never to be trusted.”
Did he mean Caroline? Joseph’s hands ached from clenching. Had Hannah known she’d been seen?
Once out of the trees, Greene shoved Joseph forward and pointed a rigid arm toward a soldier who stood in front of the barn across the yard. “You there!”
The soldier jogged forward. “Aye, sir?”
“Tie this man. Find a place for him inside while we wait for Stockton to arrive.”
“Aye, sir.” The man who grabbed Joseph’s hands could not have been more than twenty. Tall and lanky, the soldier’s cold fingers circled around Joseph’s wrists and brought them around the back of him, tying the rough rope hard enough to slow the flow of blood.
Yanked at the elbow, Joseph stumbled toward the house. Oh dear Lord, no. Joseph had to hold his teeth together to keep his anger from thundering free. There, in the center of the yard, lined with three other bodies, was Willis, eyes open, a gaping hole in his chest.
Joseph flung his vision to the other bodies, praying he wouldn’t find the faces of any others he knew, but the soldier shoved him into the house before he could place them. “Come on.”
Too pleased with his occupation, the soldier pointed to the small chair Joseph had occupied when he and Hannah had first visited—when Willis had been vibrant and fearless.
“Stay there.”
The soldier marched out the open door and began throwing questions to the others, but Joseph dulled his hearing. Willis. What had happened?
His legs began to numb as a horror consumed him. Once the note in his pocket was discovered, he and Hannah would be accused of treason.
He scrunched
his eyes and growled. If only he could break these bands. The rage pulsing through him no doubt gave him enough strength, but what then? What would happen to Hannah if he were to flee? He could not leave her at the mercy of the enemy. My darling, forgive me.
They had been so close.
If only God would grant one last blessing—one last miracle. But the flame of Joseph’s hope for such a thing was snuffed by this last drop of irony.
The one who had wished them apart so long ago, the one who they’d believed would never harm them again, had been the one to press his bootheel in their future. Philo had won.
“Where is he?” Stockton’s unmistakable thundering shook the walls of the cabin seconds before he burst through the door. “Aw, Mr. Joseph Young.”
Joseph steeled himself against the incoming attack, refusing to retreat inwardly or out. A cold thread knit through him, and he clung to it as Stockton loomed beside his chair.
Deny.
“It seems you have been caught.” Stockton tsked and shook his head. “A shame. I rather liked you.”
The rake of hate in Stockton’s black stare cut a path up Joseph’s chest. God, spare Hannah. Do not let her suffer this man’s vengeance.
Wiggling his fingers to lure even a tiny stream of blood to his stinging fingers, Joseph locked his stare to Stockton’s. “You must believe me. You have the wrong man.”
“I should like to believe that.” The muscles at Stockton’s mouth curled. “But to think you would actually believe I would accept your word—the word of one who has lied to me from the beginning.”
“Lied to you?”
“You are our informant. Greene has made that very clear to me now.” He went to the rug and flicked it back with a single swipe. “I was a fool not to see it in the beginning.” The next he added under his breath. “Such a fool.” Bending, he swung open the door and snarled. His vision snapped up, stabbing Joseph in the neck. “Where have they gone?”
Deny.
The petition came again, and he leaned what remained of his future fully upon it. “Sir, I give you my word I had no knowledge of this—”
“Where have the Patriots gone? This cellar is empty, and I refuse to believe you had nothing to do with this!”
“I did not!” Speaking the lie twisted hard in his gut, but he prayed such a falsehood for a greater good would go unpunished. He must do it, if not for himself, for Hannah. “Philo spoke without knowing what he saw. He knows not what he has done―”
“Then why run?” Stockton leaned forward, breath sour, as he seethed inches from Joseph’s face. “’Tis you who has done this, and ’tis you who will pay.”
“I tell you I did not do it, sir.” Hannah’s face flashed before him, and his voice began speaking ere he had time to stop it. “Hannah would never allow me to do such a thing. She is too devoted to the king. And I…too in love to gainsay her.”
Stilled at the unexpected statement, Stockton straightened, his facial muscles slacking. He blinked and looked to Greene, who had suddenly occupied the open doorway. “Keep watch. Should anyone else arrive, inform me immediately.”
Greene nodded and turned, but Stockton halted him with a second command. “And tell all the other men to return to Major Pitman. I have the matter under control.”
“Aye, sir.” Stepping out, Greene shut the door behind him.
Stockton folded his arms and spoke again the second they were alone. “You have always had designs on her.” His thick chest lifted and lowered as he filled his lungs with a deep sigh. “And once you saw her inclination to me, you were besieged with jealousy.”
Joseph swallowed, his blood stilling. The way to save her opened up like a crack in the earth. If Stockton believed Hannah was available to him, perhaps her life could be spared. Joseph would willingly fall over any cavern and allow her to walk across him to safety. But what security would she have without Joseph there to protect her? Philo cared not for her, and Stockton would use her in ways he dared not consider.
Yet for her to lose her life…to be drawn and quartered? Dearest Lord…
Joseph shifted in the hard chair, molding determined truth across his face. “I have always loved her. I cannot deny that.”
As if he were the father and Joseph the son, Stockton stared down at him. “But she cared not for you.”
Again Joseph worked his wrists against the strangling rope, his mind doing the same with the words that bound him. He could not answer. Not until he’d had a moment to disassemble the welded parts of memory. She cared not for you… ’Twas that very belief he had endured for so many painful years. Until this very night he had thought she’d felt the obverse of love—that she had despised him and wished a life without him.
But now, knowing that she’d wanted him, knowing she’d given life to the fruit of their love and grieved over an unthinkable loss, made a hot swelling start in his throat.
The answer breathed free. “She did. Once.”
“Once, hmm?” Stockton untethered his arms and shifted his feet. “So you’d believed that perhaps by forcing your closeness you could draw her heart back to you?”
Had Stockton no son to lecture to? Joseph would not speak of love with a man who clearly had romantic designs of his own. But if it would save her life…
Joseph swallowed. “I did.”
“I knew something was wrong.” Stockton circled around. “I knew—”
“Major!” The front door flung open, and Greene charged in. ’Tis Captain Higley, sir. And another man—”
“Joseph!” Philo burst past Greene, eyes red and chest heaving. “How dare you!”
Launching to his feet, Joseph tried to dodge the incoming attack, but Philo’s rage made him quick. With a roar he tackled Joseph backward. Like a man possessed, Philo grabbed at his coat, scratching and snarling. Joseph kicked and rolled to get himself free, but ’twas Stockton who yanked Philo back.
“Stop!”
A trickle of salty blood streamed into Joseph’s mouth. Pulse heaving, he looked across the room as Stockton pushed Philo back, and whatever horror he might have felt tripled when he saw whose frame filled the doorway.
Eyes circled in fear, face devoid of color, Hannah’s gaze was on him as one in a dream, ever reaching out but ever moving away.
Why had she come? Did she not know the danger?
Stockton whirled and yelled at Higley, who came to stand beside her. “I told you to keep them at the house.”
“She could not be stayed, and I—”
“Enough!” Veins bulging in his neck, Stockton pointed to Greene. “Search them.”
“No!” Hannah stumbled forward with arms outstretched. “Please, Major, I beg of you.”
Something that resembled compassion rippled through Stockton’s eyes but died at the shore of his pride.
The look he threw Joseph kicked like a boot to the face. “Get up.” Again he turned to Greene. “Search them all.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
All strength fled, and Hannah’s legs buckled.
“No!” Higley gripped her arms to hold her steady. “Major, please.”
The note she’d handed Joseph would be found in his pocket, and then they would both hang. Their hopes for love and happiness destroyed by a man who should have loved and cherished. Instead, had forsaken.
Stockton flicked his head toward her. “We’ve no time to wait. Lieutenant, get it done.”
“Aye, sir.” He stepped toward her. “I always knew you were not one to trust. And here at last I have the chance to prove it.”
“Stop!” Joseph’s cry stalled Greene’s steps and turned all heads to him.
But ’twas Joseph’s eyes that were upon her, and the look in them chilled her blood. She shook her head, silently pleading for him not to do what she read in his face that he would. If he sacrificed himself, ’twould be grief that stole her life in place of a noose.
On his knees, Joseph leaned into his words, resolve casing his features. “She is innocent—if you will ch
eck anyone, check me.”
The tiny muscles under Stockton’s eye began their familiar tick. He swung his glance from Joseph to Hannah and back again. “I do believe you are right. ’Tis you who I must question first.”
Lord, this cannot be! Her limbs nearly lost their ability to hold, and she gripped harder to Higley. Hot tears burned her eyes before searing down her cheeks.
Stockton flicked his wrist to Joseph, and Greene marched to him. Yanking Joseph to his feet, Greene’s gruff hands reached quick and hard into every pocket.
Hannah raised her eyes to Philo, who stood motionless, arms heavy at his sides as he watched. Why? Why? A cry built within her, guttural and black. Why had he never forgiven? She had wished for nothing else, but he had not been willing to offer anything more than begrudging civility. Did his hate of her reach so deep that he would place her own life and the life of the man she loved in such peril? Did he not know they would be killed? Did he not care?
Clinging madly to her sensibilities, Hannah focused her vision on Joseph, who looked at her as now Stockton came to inspect, then quickly stepped back, his mouth a hard line.
He said nothing, gesturing for Greene to search Philo. Cold relief washed through her. From across the room, Joseph’s eyes blinked, communicating the same bafflement she could hardly assemble into thought. Had the note dropped from his pocket? How could they not find it?
“Raise your arms, preacher. You’re next.” Greene shoved Philo’s arm high and dove his hand into his pocket. Suddenly he stilled and looked up, gripping Philo’s absent expression with a victorious smile. “What have we here?”
Slowly, he raised the folded note and circled on his heel toward Stockton. “It seems we may both have been misled, Major.”
Hannah’s mouth hinged open as Philo turned his face toward her. Her thinking ceased, impeded by the shock that shot from the sea of her fears. There was something in her father’s eyes…something she hadn’t seen since she was a child. ’Twas beseeching and sorrowful, yet sweet and entreating. An unheard melody seemed to groan out of him, his spirit speaking with hers in mournful, euphonious strains, as if to say, I love you.
So Pure a Heart (Daughters of His Kingdom Book 4) Page 32
