The Patriot Bride

by Kimberley Woodhouse

  Opening the door, the stench that filled her nose was worse than anything she’d ever encountered. She lifted the hem of her coat and covered her nose.

  Marie did likewise.

  It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the dim room around her, but soon she saw cell doors at the end of the hallway in front of her. Matthew!

  She ran toward them and the smell got worse.

  When she looked into the first cell, she choked back a cry. The man on the ground was obviously dead. Marie started shaking beside her.

  Faith moved to the next cell. Nothing.

  Then the last one.

  Nothing.

  Matthew wasn’t here.

  Dragging Marie out of the building, Faith couldn’t wait to breathe in some fresh air. Never in her life had she seen anything so horrid. Was that where they’d kept her beloved? No. It couldn’t be.

  Clayton met them outside. “There is no one here. Looks like they packed up and moved on.”

  Faith nodded. “The cells were empty. Except for a dead man.” Her knees felt weak. “He cannot be dead, Clayton. My heart cannot abide it.”

  “We will keep looking. Come on.” Her stoic butler led them back to the horses.

  Marie was awfully quiet as she climbed onto her horse.

  Faith didn’t know what to think. What had she missed? Was there a clue here somewhere? She turned to mount her horse when a smelly hand clamped over her face.

  “Do not make a move!” Whoever had her pointed a knife at Clayton.

  Clayton raised his hands. “Let him go. He’s just a boy.” Just a boy? Who was he talking about?

  Faith looked at Marie. For a moment she wanted to smack herself. Of course, he was talking about her. She was dressed as a man.

  Marie’s eyes went wide.

  Her captor waved the knife toward her too. “Stay back. I need your horse and your supplies.”

  A wave of nausea hit Faith. The man smelled. Just like the cells. He had been there. He knew something!

  With every ounce of strength she had, she stomped on his foot and jabbed her elbow into his midsection. As a child, she’d used the move many times on the boys when they captured her during their battle games.

  The man with the knife bent over and moaned, letting her go. But when Clayton approached him, he stuck the knife out again.

  Faith couldn’t wait any longer. “You were there, were you not?” She pointed back to where the encampment was. “Where is Matthew?”

  The man’s eyes went wild, and he waved the knife around. “I am not going back. I escaped. They are all dead. All of them.”

  Faith screamed. “No!” She flung herself at the man, and he collapsed to the ground.

  Clayton grabbed the knife as Faith slapped the man’s face. “You are lying. He cannot be dead. Where is Matthew?”

  “He’s dead. Just like we were all supposed to be. Those stinking Patriots captured us. Gave us rotten food and diseased water. I am the only one who survived.” The man curled up in a ball and cried.

  Faith didn’t know what to do. A deep sob started in her gut. She shook her head. Matthew couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t.

  Clayton tied the hands of the half-starved man. The man was a Loyalist but had obviously suffered a great deal. Her butler picked up the pouch the man had dropped. He opened it and peered inside. “Look, Faith.”

  “I do not care what is in there. It doesn’t matter now.” She sniffed and wrapped her arms around her middle.

  Clayton nodded, picked up the man as if he weighed nothing at all, and then threw him over his horse. “We need to take this man in. There are messages in this bag.”

  All she could manage was a nod. Faith climbed on her own mount and rode back into the woods, letting the tears stream down her face.

  Hours later, Faith didn’t have any tears left to cry. She’d spent them all. Marie came up beside her. “I am so sorry, ma’am.”

  “ ‘Twas all for naught. I thought I could get here before anything bad happened. I thought I could save him.” She shook her head. “My plan did not work.”

  “God’s plans are always a mystery to us, ma’am. What you did was very brave.”

  “I do not care if it was brave or not. I just wish Matthew were still alive.”

  Clayton rode up next to her. “Mrs. Jackson, why don’t you let me ride on ahead and get this man turned in. We will meet up in the little town we ate dinner in last night.”

  “That is fine, Clayton.” She didn’t have the heart to make any more plans.

  Everything she’d done for the cause, every message she’d coded, every person she’d helped…It all felt worthless without Matthew. Why?

  “You loved him a lot, didn’t you, ma’am?” Marie interrupted her thoughts.

  “Yes, I did.”

  Friday, July 28, 1775

  Matthew rode toward Fredericksburg, Virginia. That’s where Faith’s family farm was. He couldn’t wait to see her. And after a lengthy talk with Ben, he’d decided he wasn’t going to wait to marry her. Not after all he’d been through. He was much thinner than he had been a couple of months ago, but each day he gained a little strength. He was almost to the point where his stomach could handle a full meal again.

  After Ben had dragged him across the river, the old man had taken him to a doctor friend of his and had him patched up. Some of the wounds would take time to heal, but there was nothing more beautiful than freedom. Ben wrote a letter to the leaders so they would know what had happened to Matthew. He also gave a scathing report about how the soldiers had treated their prisoners and how the commanding officers had a total lack of knowledge in the situation. Over time, they’d have to get more organized if they were going to win this war.

  When Matthew had rested, eaten enough to give him some strength, and cleaned himself up—several times—he told Ben he had to go find Faith.

  His mentor had nodded and given his blessing. “I’ll get word to Washington.”

  Matthew had been riding ever since.

  Virginia was beautiful country, but he hoped he didn’t have too much farther to go. His backside was sore, and he was hungry. Again.

  He crossed a field and saw two men dressed in liveries. They must be servants on one of the local plantations. Maybe he could ask directions.

  As he galloped closer, he realized the men must be young boys because they were awfully small. Then he saw a shock of golden hair.

  He gained ground and almost caught up with the riders. “Hello there!”

  The blond turned and looked at him then back to the road. Then back at him.

  Shock filled his—no her face. It wasn’t a man at all. It was Faith. “Matthew?” She yanked back on the reins.

  The other horse stopped as well, and Matthew tried not to stare. Faith and her maid were both dressed as men. Servant men at that. He dismounted.

  Faith practically fell off her horse and ran to him. “Matthew! You’re alive!” She hit him with such force that he had to brace himself against his mount as she wrapped her arms around him.

  “Yes, I am very much alive. Why did you think I was not?”

  She pulled back. “Because I went to rescue you, and no one was there. The crazy man we met said he escaped and that everyone else was dead.”

  “Huh? What crazy man?”

  “A young Loyalist. He said you were dead.”

  “One of the others survived?” He sighed. He’d carried around guilt for abandoning the other men. Even though they were Loyalists. No one deserved to be treated the way they had been.

  She stepped back and looked at him. “Oh, Matthew, what did they do to you?”

  Now that the shock had worn off, he took the time to drink her in. “Do not worry about me. I am quite well now.” He took her hands and looked her up and down. Oops. Big mistake. “Umm, exactly why are you wearing breeches?”

  “I couldn’t go off to rescue you in prison wearing a dress.” She laughed.

  “Why not? Benjamin Frankli
n did.”

  “What?!” Her face was puzzled.

  Marie joined them, eating an apple. “See? I told you we could have worn our dresses.”

  Faith rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “So you are telling me that Benjamin Franklin rescued you?”

  Matthew nodded. And looked at her fine figure again. It was quite distracting.

  “And he was wearing a dress?”

  “Um-hm.” He took one last glance at her legs and then forced his eyes up. “I promise I will tell you the story later, but I need to say something.” He stepped closer to her. Then pulled her into his arms.

  A sly smile split her lips. “Why, Mr. Weber. This is awfully forward.”

  “It’s all right, we have a chaperone.”

  Marie giggled.

  Matthew lowered his head until it was only a few inches from Faith’s. “You look far too good in men’s clothing, Faith Lytton Jackson. And I find that it is a distraction from my mission at hand.”

  “And what mission would that be?” She licked her lips.

  “Asking you to be my wife.”

  She tilted her head.

  “Please do not leave me in agony, Faith. I love you more than I could have ever imagined. Please, will you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Matthew Weber?”

  That mischievous smile returned. “Yes. The answer is most definitely, yes!”

  Faith placed her hands on either side of Matthew’s face and pulled him closer to her. She kissed him with every ounce of love she had in her heart. Tears squeezed out of her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. This man. This wonderful man. God had saved him for her.

  Matthew pulled back, a fiery passion in his eyes. “Oh, milady, if you are going to do that again, warn me.” He kissed her again soft and sweet. “I do not wish to wait to get married.”

  She shook her head and tasted his lips again. “No. Let’s not wait. Please.”

  Marie tapped Faith on the shoulder. “Didn’t you say the church your parents were married in is over in the next town?” Her maid grinned.

  Faith laughed. “Marie, you are brilliant.” She grabbed Matthew’s hand. “Let’s get married today.”

  “I like this plan.”

  “We can just go to the church right now and track down the preacher.”

  “Let’s do it. As long as you wear those breeches for the wedding.”

  Faith strode to her horse with a giggle and practically jumped in the saddle. “You got it. I will race you there.”

  The next morning, Faith awoke with the most wonderful sensation. She was held in her husband’s arms. Lord, thank You.

  Fresh wildflowers sat on the windowsill and gave the room a cheery feel and filled the air with the scent of life. Oh, how thankful she was that Matthew was alive!

  “Good morning.” Matthew whispered in her ear. His arms felt warm and safe.

  She turned to face him. “Good morning.” For the first time as Mrs. Matthew Weber, she had the privilege of waking up and seeing his face first thing. It was wonderful. “I bet you are hungry.”

  “Famished. I know it may be hard to believe, but I didn’t get fed a lot the past few weeks.”

  Faith laughed and kissed his cheek. “Well, let me get Marie, and she can help me dress. Then we can see what this establishment has for food.”

  She’d been so excited to marry him yesterday that she hadn’t even paid attention to where they went after the wedding. Prayerfully, the inn would have food for them. Otherwise, she’d have to hunt down her horse and sad little pouch of provisions. Her husband needed food.

  He dressed quickly and leaned over and kissed her on the neck. “I will leave you to get ready and meet you downstairs.”

  A shiver raced up and down her spine. Oh, how she loved her new husband.

  As he left the room, Marie curtsied and entered. “Good morning, Mr. Weber. Mrs. Weber.”

  Faith couldn’t help smiling like she was on top of the world. “Good morning, Marie.”

  “Clayton is here. And he has news to share.”

  “Oh, wonderful.” A tinge of guilt hit her. Would he be upset that she’d married without him present?

  “I am afraid the only gown we have with us is quite wrinkled.” Marie cringed.

  “It does not matter one bit. I am not worried about it, besides we should be home later today.” Home. Such a wonderful word. And it meant so much more to her now, because it truly was home to her family. With Matthew.

  Marie did her best to smooth out wrinkles. “We need to dress you as the lady you are.”

  “I think as long as I do not show up downstairs in breeches again, Mr. Weber will be happy.”

  Marie giggled. “Oh, he was quite happy to see you in men’s clothes, ma’am. But he definitely would not wish anyone else to see you in them.”

  Through much laughter, Faith was finally fit to be seen. She and Marie made their way downstairs, and Clayton came forward to hug her.

  “I hear congratulations are in order, Mrs. Weber.” Her butler bowed.

  “Thank you, Clayton. I am so sorry you were not there. We missed you.”

  “I am just so thankful you found him, ma’am.” He smiled. A deep, genuine smile that made Faith’s heart soar. This man had become so dear to her. He nodded toward her husband, who sat at the table with a heaping plate of breakfast.

  “I hear you have news to tell us.” Faith quirked an eyebrow and sat down at the long table.

  “Indeed. Well, the fellow that you helped capture?”

  Matthew swallowed. “You helped capture someone?”

  Marie chimed in. “Yes, she even slapped the man in the face. Of course that was after he had said you were dead. She was quite distraught.”

  Her husband’s brows raised, and he lifted a napkin to his lips and wiped them. “Do tell, Clayton.”

  “Well”—the butler turned to Matthew—”after your wife tackled him and hit him, the man didn’t have any fight left in him, so we tied him up.”

  Faith shook her head and laughed. “Goodness, you make it sound like I won the war single-handedly. Just tell us your news.”

  Clayton laughed and looked back at Matthew. “Come to find out, the pouch he’d been carrying had some of your coded messages, as well as some other missives. Secrets that someone was going to pass on to the Loyalists.”

  “So he was the one?” Matthew shook his head.

  Faith lowered her brows. And to think that she had thought Matthew had been guilty—even if for only a moment. Her heart ached with the thought. “What do you know of him?”

  “Only that Ben’s son—William—was getting secrets from someone. Part of my job was to try to find out whom.” He shook his head. “I would have never guessed.”

  Clayton nodded. “Apparently the young man confessed everything once I took him in. He was starved and half out of his mind.”

  Looking at the plate of tasty treats in front of her, Faith felt horrible for how she’d treated the young man. It was sad that he had been a traitor, but she still felt bad. “Matthew?”

  “Yes, dear?”

  “I would really like to go home.”

  He looked concerned. “Of course. Anything you like.”

  “There are a lot of people at our home.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “And I would like to see if there are others we could help.”

  “I would not want it any other way.” He stood and walked over to her and held out his hand.

  “The cause still needs our help.”

  Matthew nodded. “Yes, and I need to report to General Washington soon. We have a war on our hands.”

  “We will win it together. Side by side.” She smiled. It would be hard to let him go. But freedom never came without sacrifice. “I love you, Mr. Weber.”

  “And I love you, Mrs. Weber.”

  In the wee hours of the morning, Matthew heard a cry. He ran up the stairs and met Marie at the door to the bedroom he shared with his beautiful wife. Dr. Livi
ngston stood by the bed, holding a squirming baby.

  His baby.

  His stomach felt like it jumped to his throat as he took slow steps forward.

  Faith lay in the bed, a sweet glow on her flushed cheeks. “He is beautiful, is he not?”

  Matthew reached the bed and leaned down to kiss his wife’s forehead. “Not as beautiful as you, my love. Are you all right?”

  She nodded. “You need to meet your son.”

  At that moment, the doctor handed him the tiniest little human he’d ever seen. “Well, hello there.” His heart swelled with feelings he couldn’t put into words. This little life—this little human being was flesh of his flesh and bone of his bone. With gentle hands, he pulled the infant—his son—close to his chest. He looked to his wife. “Thank you.”

  Her smile was soft. “I love you, Matthew Weber.”

  “What should we name him?” He looked back down at the baby in his arms. The soft tuft of blond hair on his head was softer than velvet. He stroked his son’s cheek with his finger. Awe. That was this feeling. Pure awe.

  “I was thinking George is a fine name….”

  “A very fine name indeed.” Matthew nodded and put his finger in front of the tiny fist waving in the air. His son opened his hand and grabbed onto Matthew’s finger. Was there anything finer in the whole world? “And I was thinking Benjamin. After your father and another fine gentleman we know.”

  Faith’s soft laughter filled the room. “I love it. Then I believe we have chosen a name. George Benjamin Weber.”

  “I like it too,” Doc said from the washstand. “Not that you asked for my opinion. But I am old and have been around a long time.” He chuckled and walked back over to Faith. “Take it easy for a while. ‘Twas not an easy delivery. Your maid knows what to do.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.” Faith smiled up at the man who had delivered her as an infant in this same house.

  Matthew couldn’t feel prouder.

  Faith sighed, and he looked back at his beautiful wife. Is this how every man felt when their firstborn entered the world? This complete joy? Absolute, unconditional love that overwhelmed his whole being? He hoped he would feel this way about every child the Lord blessed them with because he never wanted it to end.