by June Venable
Caleb looked away. He had hoped to keep his feelings for Abby to himself until he sorted them out. Speaking carefully, he said, “I think Elizabeth is a fine young woman, but my heart belongs to another.”
“What? Who? We’ve been a bit busy with a war. When did you find time to lose your heart?”
“It’s Abby Clark,” Caleb offered. He felt the blood rush to his face. “Abby saved my life, Seth, when the British captured me. I owe her everything.”
“Listen to what you’re saying. Do you owe Abby affection just because she helped you, or do you truly love her?”
Caleb suddenly felt confused. Being older, Seth probably knew more than he himself did. Their arrival at the crossroads put an end to the conversation, but Caleb knew he’d have to think about Seth’s question.
“Well, my friend, it’s time to say goodbye once more. No, I’ll just say farewell because we’ll meet again soon. I hope you find your home just as you left it.”
“Thank you, Seth. Yes, I’ll see you one day soon. My thanks to you and your family for your hospitality.
“Hurry on now and take care of yourself.”
Nodding, Caleb climbed astride his horse and tossed a salute to his friend. Turning west, he set Victory on the road home.
Caleb had time to think as he traveled. He turned Seth’s words over and over in his mind. Did he only feel affection for Abby because she helped him escape the Red Coats? Or were his feelings strong and true? As he rode alone, jumbled thoughts raced through his mind. When the last light faded, he brought Victory to a stop and led him into a grove of trees. His dug into his saddlebags for the food Charity had packed. He feasted on pork and cornbread, and licked his fingers when he tasted the cook’s sweet flummery with bits of apple.
He spread out his bedroll and settled down for the night with Victory close by. Caleb’s last thought centered around home. His new life lay before him and he murmured a promise to his father. “Pa, if I find things are well, I’ll do my best to care for the land just as you did. I hope you and Ma know I’ll do my best to carry on what you started and to make you proud of me.”
NINETEEN
The noon sun warmed Caleb as he rode onto his land. He tugged Victory’s reins and brought him to a halt when he came to the gentle slope that marked the beginning of the property. Three years. A long time to be away. Everything looked smaller. The farmhouse, surrounded by weeds, appeared shabby from neglect. The roof of the barn had gaping holes, and when he rode closer, a brown squirrel poked his head out and chattered frantically. Caleb smiled. He’s warning me not to disturb his home. He dismounted and stood looking over the empty fields.
“Victory, you’re going to have to help. Look at this land. Nothing’s growing now, but by next spring I’ll have crops in. Meanwhile, I’ll spend the winter repairing the house and clearing some of this brush. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”
The horse nuzzled Caleb’s neck. He understands, Caleb thought. The two of us will make this place productive again.
The inside of the small farmhouse looked just as he left it, with the exception of a layer of dust. He swallowed a lump in his throat when his eyes caught sight of his mother’s chair. A quilt she had made for his fifth birthday hung over the arm. He remembered her nimble fingers fashioning the log cabin pattern and tucking it around him on cold nights.
Across the room sat a sturdy chair where his father rested in the evenings as he smoked his pipe and stared into the fire. Often he spoke to his wife about the growing unrest in the country.
On most nights, Caleb sat quietly in the corner playing with his spinning top and listened to the sounds of his parent’s voices. He learned of his father’s great love of this country and his sadness over the harsh rules imposed on them by England.
Caleb brushed the dust from the pine table his father had built, and spent the afternoon making plans for getting the place back in order. He had helped his father enough to know what he must do to bring the land to life once more. He hoped the trading post still operated and that Mr. Drew would let him have credit until his pay came through. He found the book his father used to keep expenses. Caleb wrote a list of the supplies he needed. At last, he put the figures away and finished the food Charity had given him. The temperature had dropped at dusk. Shivering, he wrapped himself in the old quilt and immediately fell into a dreamless sleep.
Caleb slept deeply, finally waking when the sun’s rays fell across his eyes. He knew he must get provisions for himself and more oats for Victory. Only a handful remained from the supply he brought from the Larkins.
When he reached the barn door, he stopped short. A bloody handprint stood out starkly against the rough aged wood. He listened, but heard nothing. Easing the door open, he peered inside. Light streamed through the holes where part of the roof had collapsed, but the shadowy corners kept their secrets.
Suddenly, Victory came trotting out. “Good boy,” Caleb whispered, stroking the horse’s mane. He stepped inside and called out, “who’s there? Come out so I can see you!”
A faint moan came from somewhere in the barn.
Caleb whirled around and hurried back to the house for his musket. He returned to the barn, holding the weapon in position. He edged into the building and looked around. He soon spotted what looked like a pile of rags in a corner. Looking closer, he realized it was someone dressed in the uniform of a British soldier. Could this be the deserter from the group Seth and his men had spoken of? Caleb trained his gun on the man. “Can you hear me? How did you get here?” He received no answer.
Sticking his boot out, he used his foot to roll the man over. Caleb could see the white tunic of his uniform soaked with blood. His left arm lay at an odd angle and his breath came in short gasps. Caleb’s touch seemed to cause more pain.
“Victory, we can’t leave him here.” Desperate, he looked around. His eyes fell on a slab of wood that leaned against the wall. A length of rope hung nearby. Caleb tied one end of the rope to Victory’s saddle horn and looped the other around the board. He gently eased the soldier onto the board. “Go, Victory, let’s get this man to the house. Come on, boy, you can do it.” The big horse started out slowly, as if he knew his mission required care. Caleb held the soldier lightly to make sure he wasn’t jostled off the makeshift carrier. Mercifully, the man’s pain caused him to lapse into unconsciousness.
When they reached the house, Caleb lifted the soldier and got him inside. He chose the closest bedroom, the one that had belonged to his parents. When he had settled the man in bed, Caleb looked at his wound. It seemed to have been made by a saber slash. He had lost a lot of blood.
Caleb went outside and gathered a few sticks of wood and built a fire to heat water.
He bathed the man’s shoulder and applied some medicinal herbs he found that his mother had used for injuries around the farm. When the bleeding stopped, he found clean cloths and bandaged the man’s shoulder.
At last, he leaned back and looked at the soldier. He knew the man would carry a jagged scar, but he had done all he knew to do. He’ll sleep for a while now.
Caleb saddled Victory and rode away, hoping he’d find the trading post open. He was in luck. Mr. Drew had managed to stay in business.
“Well, welcome home, boy. Are you here for good?”
“I hope so, Mr. Drew. I’ll be mustered out soon. Until then, I have a lot of work to do. I wonder if I might get some supplies on credit until I get my back pay? I don’t like to ask. I know my father never asked for credit, but with the situation now, it’s necessary.”
“Why, Caleb, your pa and I were friends. I can surely extend some credit to his son. Don’t worry. I’ll let you have whatever you need. I’m low on some things, but I’ll do what I can.”
Caleb quickly scoured the place for farm supplies, food provisions and oats for Victory.
He did not mention his visitor. He wondered later if he had made the right decision.
“You won’t regret this, Mr. Drew. Thank you.”
“I know I won’t, Caleb. Come back soon and we’ll talk.”
He stored most of the supplies in the barn before taking the rest into the farmhouse. Setting things down, he tiptoed to the bedroom to check on the soldier. He eased the door open and looked into the barrel of his father’s old musket.
Too late, Caleb recalled his father had always leaned the gun against the wall next to the bed. Colonists kept their weapons handy in dangerous times. The soldier had managed to retrieve the gun and lay propped up on the bed pointing it at Caleb. His hand shook so violently, Caleb expected the rifle to fire any moment. He looked closely. The man’s face appeared flushed and his eyes did not focus. Caleb knew he must be feverish and in that condition might do anything.
“What’s your name?” Caleb spoke softly, hoping to calm the man. “How do you feel? I have food in the house. Why don’t you put the rifle down and I’ll bring you something to eat?”
The soldier tried to steady his hand and speak, but suddenly fell back on the bed, his eyes closed. Caleb crept nearer and grabbed the gun. The man didn’t move. Caleb found a blanket in the walnut chest has father had made. He settled it over the still form and left the room, careful to hide the rifle.
He fed Victory, fixed a meal for himself and set some aside for when the man awoke.
Several hours later, Caleb looked up to see the soldier framed in the doorway. He looked shaky, but his color had improved.
“Are you hungry?”
The man nodded. “I…I don’t remember when I last ate.”
“Sit down. I have some hot broth with a bit of meat since the weather tuned cool overnight. Do have some. It will do you good.”
Caleb sat silently while the man ate. He downed the broth and asked for more, not speaking again until he finished the second bowl. “Thank you,” he said, “and I’m obliged for this.” He indicated the bandaged shoulder.
Caleb wondered if the man remembered his earlier actions. Perhaps in his feverish state he thought of me as the enemy. “Can you tell me about yourself?”
“My name is John Bonner. I am a deserter from the British army.” The hazel eyes looked directly into Caleb’s.
“Go on.”
“Two years ago, I planned to come to this country. I had everything in order when my country conscripted me. I did not want to fight, but nothing swayed them. I was trained and sent here with my regiment. When the war began to go against us, I looked for an opportunity to get away. Some of your men found our camp. A fight ensued. That’s when I received this wound. The others were captured, but by some miracle I managed to escape. I walked for days, it seems, not knowing where I might wind up. I kept to the back roads to avoid your troops. When I got here, I could go no further and took refuge in your barn.”
Caleb looked into the soldier’s face. He isn’t much older than me, he thought, probably about Seth’s age. “Were you part of a group that burned a barn close to your camp?”
The man nodded. “I don’t know exactly where, but, yes, one of the men wanted to cause some mischief. Our cause seemed lost by then. It happened on a Sunday, if I recall correctly, but I had no part in it.”
“I believe you.”
“Do you plan to turn me in?”
“I see no reason to. The war is almost over. Most of the British troops have left and you’re alone. I thank you for telling me about the fire. The barn that burned belonged to friends of mine. They took care of me when I was wounded. If you truly want to stay in this country, I could use some help here on the farm. You’re welcome to food and a bed in exchange for helping me get this place back into shape. What do you say?”
“Thank you. I accept. I will help in any way I can. I have only distant family left in England and don’t plan to go back.”
“When your shoulder heals, we’ll talk about work, but for now you must rest and give that wound a chance to heal.”
Caleb sat quietly for a moment then held out his hand. “Welcome to your new country, John Bonner.”
* * * *
The cold winds of December sent Caleb and John indoors. Work outside ceased until spring would bring milder weather. The two started repairs to the inside of the house. Caleb had found his neighbors readily accepted John when they heard his story.
A knock one day brought Mistress Drew, the wife of the owner of the trading post. “Good day, lads. My husband told me you two were working day and night. I thought you might welcome some of my pies. They are the best around if I do say so myself.”
The smell of fresh-baked pastry, filled with spices, accompanied the woman as she made her way in.
“Good day to you Mistress Drew. I’ve heard tell of your famous pies. We shall make short work of them. Here, let me take your parcels.”
“I thought you might also like some things to brighten the house. You men might be satisfied to patch the holes, but you need a woman’s touch to make a place homey. Our two daughters are married and gone now, so we had no need of these things.”
To the delight of Caleb and John, Emily Drew unloaded her parcels. Out tumbled rag rugs to warm the wood floors and curtains to cover the now sparkling windows. John had made the windows his special project and buffed them to a high shine. The crackling fire spread light over the keeping room giving it a lived-in and comfortable look.
“Now, that’s the way a home should look.” Giving a satisfied glance around at her handiwork, Mistress Drew added, “All it needs now, Caleb Fields, is a woman.”
John grinned and Caleb blushed as he escorted the woman to the door.
“Thank you for your gifts, Mistress Drew. I’ll take your suggestion under consideration.”
The next knock on the door came two days later.
“Perhaps Mistress Drew has sent a young lady for your inspection, Caleb. She seems bound to have you wed.” John teased Caleb, enjoying his discomfort.
Peering out the window before opening the door, Caleb gave a whoop. “If it is a prospective bride, she’s riding a familiar horse.”
Caleb flung open the door and called out to the rider. “Seth Larkin! I can’t believe it’s you. Welcome. Come in out of the cold. Is your family well?”
“Hello, Caleb. Full of questions as usual, I see. Yes, everyone is fine. I’ve come close by on business, but I finished early and came to collect you.”
“Come in and tell us what’s going on in the world and why you plan on collecting me. First, though, meet John Bonner.” The two men shook hands
“I’ll put your horse in the barn and see that she has a bit of oats, Corporal,” John offered.
“Sit here and rest, Seth. You’re probably tired.” Caleb indicated his father’s chair.
“Yes, a little, but to see you look so well refreshes me. The life of a farmer must agree with you.” He glanced around. “Your place looks great, Caleb. You must have worked hard to get it back in shape after your long absence.”
“Yes, John and I have put in a lot of time and have more to do before we start planting in the spring. By the way, do you recall the nest of British soldiers you and your group captured with the exception of one when you came by the Clark farm?”
“I recall it vividly. But what has that to do with John?”
“He’s your escapee.”
“No! How did he wind up here?”
“He got this far before his wound prevented him from traveling any more. I don’t know how he made it, but he did. He had waited his chance to desert. He never wanted to fight. He had planned to run away when your men found them. He also told me that his group burned Amos Clark’s barn. So, you guessed right. The enemy was responsible. He had no part of it, however. He’s worked hard these last months to prove himself. He has also kept company with a young lady from a nearby farm. They plan to marry soon.”
“You truly have been busy. Aside from farming, you’ve gone into the marriage brokering business.” Seth laughed at the look on his friend’s face. “Still slow to catch a joke, Private Fields?”
&
nbsp; Caleb sat back and grinned. “Still up to your old tricks, eh? Now, what have you done with yourself? No good, I’ll wager.”
“Have you no mercy, my friend?” Seth pretended to take offense at Caleb’s remark. “I’ll have you know I too have worked hard these past months. I’ve learned to run the plantation, and soon I’ll be on my way to school to study law, now that Father has returned. What do you think of that?”
“That’s wonderful, Seth. I wish you the best in your studies. I knew all that knowledge you have would lead you in the right direction some day. It looks as if life is good for both of us.
“Now, tell me about your family. It seems another lifetime since I’ve last seen them.”
“Mother and father are well, and you’ll never guess what Bess is up to.”
“No, I’m sure I can’t.” Caleb laughed, prepared for anything except Seth’s next words.
“She’s keeping company with Major Hunt. What do you think of that?”
“I can’t believe it. Major Hunt is a bit old for her, isn’t he?”
“No, I think not. Nathaniel is twenty-seven and Bess turned eighteen. Less than ten years between them, and my little sister has matured this past year. They seem very fond of each other. I won’t be surprised to hear an announcement soon.”
“Please give my best to Elizabeth. I gather we mustn’t call her ‘Bossy Bess’ any longer.”
“You would do so at your own risk.”
“Now, tell me why you plan to kidnap me.”
“I’ve come to bring news of the muster ceremony. Surely you haven’t forgotten, have you? If for no other reason, you’ll be rich. Just think of all the back pay you’re due.”
“Little you know, Corporal. I’ve already spent most of it. But, never mind. I’ll have it back and more when my crops come in next year. John turned out to be quite a farmer himself. Between the two of us, we’ll make this a place to be proud of. Now, when do we leave? John can watch things here for a few days.”
“If you can put me up for the night, we’ll leave for Charleston in the morning. Oh, I forgot to tell you. The last of the British troops pulled out a week ago and the city belongs to us again.”
