The Gentle Rebel

by Gilbert, Morris

  “Of course, General!” Knox said, and looking around he saw Nathan waiting at a respectful distance. “Come here at once—Sergeant Winslow!” He turned to Adam and Molly and said with a broad smile, “I’d make him a lieutenant if I could, sir! He and that young friend of his saved our necks on this trip!”

  He turned to lead Washington into the tent, and Nathan came up to be embraced by his mother. “You’re so thin!” she exclaimed.

  “Been eating the bark off the trees,” he said, looking down at her; then with a smile, he said, “Do I salute you, Captain Winslow?”

  Adam looked up at his tall son and thought of the dark moods he’d had in the months since the war had started. There had been a wall between the two of them, and he hated it worse than he’d hated anything in his life. So in full view of the camp, he stepped forward and opened his arms. “Later, you can salute—but I’m so glad to see you—my son!”

  Nathan found himself being held tightly by his father’s iron-hard blacksmith arms, and as he returned the embrace, his eyes burned and he said, “I—I’m glad . . . !” and then he could say no more.

  When Adam stepped back, there was a suspicious moisture in his own eyes and he said briskly, “Well, Sergeant, I believe I have it in my authority to take you into town and buy you a meal.”

  “And I want Laddie, too,” Molly said. “I’ve thought about him so often.”

  Nathan’s face changed, and Molly thought, They’ve had a fight, but he said, “He’ll be glad to see you both. Talks about you a lot—but you’ll probably have to take his buddy along. We picked him up on the trail and he and Laddie have been thick as thieves.”

  “Bring him along, son,” Adam said quickly, and when Nathan went along the line of wagons to find Laddie, he said, “You notice something there?”

  “Yes. Nathan could never hide his feelings—like you can.”

  “Me? You read me like a big-print Bible,” Adam grinned. “But this new friend of Laddie’s—I don’t think Nathan cares much for him.”

  “Well, it may be some rough soldier leading the boy astray,” Molly said. “But Nathan was always pretty possessive—like me.” She gave him a swift look and said quietly, “I’m glad you did that—hugged him. He needs you, Adam.”

  “I guess I’m not very loving, Molly.”

  “Oh—you have your moments, Captain Winslow!” She laughed in delight as his face suddenly grew red, and said gently, “Let’s not mention this girl he was seeing, Adam. Let him bring it up if he wants to.”

  Nathan returned with Laddie, and she was delighted to see them both. “And this is Friend Daniel Greene,” she said, and Molly did not miss the admiration in Laddie’s clear eyes as she introduced the handsome man in plain black clothes.

  The five of them rode back to Cambridge crowded into the carriage, and the full story of the heroic trip after the guns poured out. The Quaker said almost nothing, but Laddie finally added, “If Friend Daniel hadn’t rounded up all those oxen, I guess we’d still be perched on the bank of the Hudson River!”

  “I didn’t do all that much.” He had a deep musical voice, Molly noted, and later when they got to the hotel where she and Adam had a room, they left the three long enough to go and clean up before meeting them for a meal.

  “Well, what did you think of Friend Greene?” Adam asked at once.

  “It’s a good thing I’m an old married woman,” she answered as she brushed her glossy hair back. “That Quaker is too handsome! What a shame it’s all wasted on a preacher who doesn’t need all those good looks.”

  “He is fine looking,” Adam admitted. “And a husky fellow as well.” He stared at her, admiring her long hair, then said, “I thought Quakers were against war and all that. Surprises me that he helped Knox out. But—he’s not what we thought, is he? I mean, he’s not a drinking or wenching man—likely to corrupt Laddie?”

  “No, he’ll not do that, I think.” She said in a slow voice, then rose and said, “Let’s go eat. I want to hear more about the trip.”

  For the next three days, Washington and Knox had their heads together, and the men were given permission to go into town often. There was little for Adam to do, and he said, “I know Washington—he’s up to something. When it breaks, I don’t reckon any of us will have any time for fun—so we better enjoy it.”

  It was a good time for Molly; she had seen little of Adam when he’d been so busy getting the Rangers organized, and the two of them spent a great deal of time with Nathan. They ate together every night, and Laddie was always included, as was the young Quaker.

  They laughed a great deal, but Molly saw that beneath the surface, all three of the young people were somehow ill at ease. She said nothing to Adam, but finally on the third night, something happened that interrupted their holiday.

  They were eating at an inn, and Adam was debating some theological point with Greene. The two had become good friends, differing on small matters of doctrine, but each sensing the goodness of the other. A young man in civilian clothes came in and asked, “Mr. Nathan Winslow?”

  Nathan nodded, took the note he presented, and read it. The messenger, a tall young man still in his teens, waited, and finally Nathan looked up and asked, “Can you take an answer?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Nathan got up and went to the proprietor, and borrowing a quill, scratched a note on the back of the one he’d just received. He returned to the table, gave it to the messenger, who said, “I’ll see she gets it, sir,” and left.

  The rest of them had tried not to appear curious, but Laddie blurted out, “It’s Abigail, isn’t it?”

  Nathan flushed and said, “I’ll have to be gone for a little while. Father, could you get me a pass for two days?”

  Laddie stared at him, her face pale, and she turned to Adam. “Don’t do it! He nearly got hanged last time he went to see that woman!”

  “Nathan, it’s too dangerous to go into Boston,” Adam said quietly. “If you’ll just wait a few days, I suspect you can walk in with the rest of us.”

  “I can’t wait, sir,” Nathan replied, his lips pale. “I have to go.”

  Adam stared at him, then nodded heavily. “I’ll get you a pass. Come along.”

  “You are a bloody fool, Nathan Winslow!” Laddie cried out, and there was such anger in her that the words were blurred.

  Molly watched as Nathan stared at Laddie. “I have to do it, Laddie.” Then he turned and followed his father out of the room.

  Molly got up and said abruptly, “Laddie, would you come with me? Excuse us please, Mr. Greene.”

  “Of course.” Greene rose and watched Laddie follow Mrs. Winslow out of the inn, then sat there for a long time, staring at the table. He was thinking, Winslow’s a fool!—but then, so am I!

  Laddie followed Nathan’s mother blindly out of the inn and down the street. She wanted to scream, but bit her lips, and by the time she and Molly entered the hotel room, Laddie was in control.

  Molly took off her coat and went to look out the window. She stood there so long that Laddie grew nervous, saying finally, “What was it you wanted to talk to me about, Mrs. Winslow?”

  Molly Winslow turned from the window and came to stand directly before her. Looking into her eyes, she said, “I wanted to ask you about Nathan . . .”

  She paused and Laddie asked quickly, “Yes? What about him?”

  “I wanted to ask you, Laddie—are you in love with him—as Daniel Greene is in love with you?”

  The room grew still, the silence broken only by the sound of a soldier singing outside, and then Laddie fell into Molly’s arms, crying as if her heart would break: “I don’t know! I don’t know! Oh, I’m so mixed up! Help me!”

  Molly stood there holding the shaking body of the girl in her arms, praying, God help us all!

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  AT THE RED LION

  “When did you find out about me?”

  Molly had waited, holding the weeping girl until finally the sobs had ceased
. She gave Laddie a handkerchief and watched silently as the girl wiped her face, then said with a small smile, “When you left Virginia, Laddie.”

  “What?”

  “I suspected it for a time—but when I made you hug me just before you left—that made me sure.” She sighed and reached out to touch a tear-stained cheek. “Men are so blind!” she snorted with a crisp shake of her head. “See just what they expect to see! Oh, I know you put on around men, stomp and swing your arms and such. But I think when you were with me, you forgot your act. You remember when you helped me cook supper? Child, there’s not a man in the world who could peel a potato or move around as daintily as you did! The thought came to me, and so I watched you. Then when you were leaving, I hugged you real tight.” Her lips turned up, and there was a gleam in her eyes as she said, “I’ve not had much experience hugging men, but I knew it was no man I was hugging!”

  “Oh, Mrs. Winslow, I’m so miserable!”

  “Well, that Quaker, he knows you’re not a man,” Molly said. “He hasn’t taken his eyes off you. And you’ve kept Nathan fooled—and now you’re in love with him—and Friend Daniel Greene is in love with you! Sounds like a real bad play or book, doesn’t it? What’s your name?”

  “Julie Sampson.” She looked up and said, “Can I tell you all of it?”

  “Of course, Julie.” Molly sat there, listening to the girl, and when all was told, she smiled and said, “I guess you’ve got two mothers running scared—Sister Greene and me.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to worry! Nathan’s nutty over that Howland woman! He’s put his head in a noose twice for her—and she doesn’t give a tuppence for him!”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do!” Laddie shook her head violently, and paced the floor like a caged animal. “Why, if she cared anything about him, she’d not ask him to stick his head into the lion’s jaws, would she?”

  “Women have a lot of power over men, child,” Molly said thoughtfully. “If he loves this woman, he’ll go to her, no matter what it costs.”

  “I wish she were dead!”

  “You haven’t answered my question,” Molly said. “Are you in love with Nathan?”

  “Why, how could I be? He doesn’t even know I’m a girl!”

  “I didn’t ask you how he felt, Julie—I asked if you loved him.”

  “I—I don’t know. I thought I did—but then I met Daniel—and he treats me like a woman—and he does care for me.”

  “I see.” Molly looked long into the eyes of the girl, then said, “Nathan will have to know.”

  “No!”

  “Yes, for your own sake, and for his.”

  “He’ll hate me!”

  “That may be—but he’ll never love you, will he?—not until he knows you’re there to be loved—that you’re not a boy but a lovely woman.”

  Laddie began to tremble, and as she looked up, her enormous eyes and soft lips trembling, Molly thought, Nathan is my son, but he must be the blindest man on earth! This lovely child—and he never saw! But she said, “You did what you had to do, child, to escape your uncle. But you’re not alone now. No matter what Nathan feels, Adam and I will help you—and besides, I think from what I saw of Friend Daniel Greene, it would take a pretty powerful man to shake him loose from you!”

  Laddie shook her head, then moaned, “Oh, if Nathan only hadn’t gone to Boston! When he got taken before, I nearly died!”

  “We’ll have to pray, Julie,” Molly said. “Do you think God answers prayer?”

  “Oh, I know He does!”

  “Then we’ll pray that he’ll be safe—and that God will open his eyes. He’s lost his way, Julie,” she stated quietly. “God may have to put him flat on his back with no way to turn before he finds his way.”

  Nathan,

  I must see you. Please meet me at the old Red Lion Inn on the turnpike. I will be there tonight at seven. Don’t come to the house. It’s too dangerous.

  Sitting outside the ancient inn that shed yellow bars of light from its windows, Nathan thought of the note. As he waited in the darkness, he pictured the words that were burned across his brain. There was no signature, but he knew the writing. He had brought along a brace of pistols and kept to the back roads to avoid patrols. After darkness fell, he rode to the inn, let a hostler take his horse, then kept to the shadows of the stable, watching the road.

  It was not more than thirty minutes after seven when a closed carriage drew up, and Nathan’s eyes picked out the driver—the same young man who had brought the message. He pulled the team to a stop, leaned down and said something, then nodded and got down. He hitched the team and walked at a leisurely pace into The Red Lion Inn.

  For five minutes, Nathan stood there in the darkness, wary, suspecting a trap, but nothing changed and he moved to the window and saw the driver at a table, settled down with a stein of beer.

  Cautiously he moved to the coach and peered inside. He could see nothing, so he put his hand on the pistol in his belt and whispered softly, “Abigail?”

  “Nathan!” The door opened, and he quickly stepped up and practically fell into Abigail’s arms! She clutched him, pulling his head down, and her soft lips met his in a long kiss.

  “Abigail, what’s the matter?” he asked urgently when she drew back. “I’ve had a bad time—thinking all kinds of things.”

  She took his hand and held it to her cheek, then kissed the back of it, saying, “That’s sweet, Nathan! But does there have to be something wrong? Can’t it be that I just long to be with you?”

  He thought of the note, and realized that it actually said nothing about her being in trouble. “I guess I just assumed you needed me.”

  Her perfume was heady, and she turned toward him and put her arms around his neck. The rounded softness of her body disturbed him, and her breath was sweet as she whispered, “Nathan, when I heard you were off on a dangerous mission and might not come back, I almost lost my mind!” He wondered how she knew about the mission, but he was so overcome by her embrace that he could not follow the thought.

  The dim light from a crescent moon turned the snow silver and the yellow light from the lanterns on the front of The Red Lion were reflected in her eyes, which he could now see faintly.

  He looked at her face, and the touch of her hands on his face distracted him. He sat there holding her, and her perfume seemed to drug his senses. He whispered hoarsely, “Abigail—I’ve thought about you every day.”

  “And I’ve thought of you every day, too, sweet—and every night!” She pulled him closer, and her lips brushed his cheek as she whispered, “I know you must think I’m shameless, but I’ve been so afraid!”

  “But—I thought you and Paul . . . ?”

  “Oh, Nathan, you know women are vulnerable! Paul is an attractive man, and I enjoy his company—but I didn’t dream you’d let that frighten you off.”

  He felt suddenly weak and drew back, and then he said dryly, “Well, I wasn’t exactly frightened off, Abigail. I was dragged off by a troop of dragoons—almost to the gallows!”

  “I know, sweet, I know! It must have been awful!”

  He laughed and said, “Well, I’ve enjoyed a few things more than waiting to be hanged.”

  “I had a pass from General Gage to see you—but I think that friend of yours took it!”

  “He certainly did!” Nathan remembered again how he had felt when Laddie had come to him in prison, and he said slowly, “He saved my life, Abigail.”

  “Oh, you wouldn’t have been executed,” she said quickly. “Father had it all arranged with the general to get you pardoned—but you escaped before we could get there.”

  “Sorry to spoil your plan,” Nathan said with a smile. “But at the time it seemed a little frivolous to hang around until the execution.”

  “It’s so terrible! Let’s don’t even think about it, dear!” She leaned against him, her soft body sending involuntary signals along his nerves. “You’re not angry with me, are you?”


  “No, of course not.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t be—but I was afraid that you’d never come back. That’s why I sent for you.”

  “Does anyone know you’re here?”

  “Just Justin, the driver—and he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

  He sat there thinking; then he said, “It’s a bad time for us, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, I get so tired of it all—but it can’t last forever, can it, Nathan?”

  “It can last longer than I’d like—and it can be unpleasant for you.”

  “Father says we ought to leave—to go to New York—but Paul’s father says it would be just as bad for loyalists there.”

  “The only safe place would be England, Abigail—or maybe Canada. Father is worried about Uncle Charles. He told him to leave at once for Canada, but he said he was too old to leave his home.”

  “Oh, Nathan, Father isn’t well, and I’m so afraid! I don’t know anything about politics—and everyone is saying that if Washington comes in with his army, we’ll all be slaughtered!”

  He laughed and put his arm around her. She was trembling and her weakness, as much as her beauty, stirred him deep inside, and he said, “You won’t be slaughtered, Abigail.”

  “Nathan, you’ll take care of me?”

  She lifted her face, and her eyes had a golden gleam, the reflection of the lantern light, and he could no more help kissing her than he could help living. Her lips were soft, but they moved under his hungrily, and her arms drew him frantically closer, until finally he drew back, saying roughly, “Abigail—don’t push me too far.”

  “I love you, Nathan,” she whispered. “I know I’ve been too bold—but I—I was afraid I’d lost you!”

  He sat there and for an hour they talked, and finally she said, “I’ve got to get home before I’m missed.” They had embraced several times, and she pushed at her hair, laughing, “Nathan, when will I see you again?”

  “It will be hard to arrange,” he said, then added, “I’ll be here again in three nights—that’s as soon as I can get away.”