He plodded toward the street, gripping the handle of his dagger, circling his thumb along the red jewel at its base. A smile bled over his lips. There had been fear in Donaldson’s face. Fear that Paul would kill him. And he would.
Halting his step, he stared down at the cobblestone as the sun baked the red coat on his back. He snarled at the painful truth and moved to the shadow of the building. Leaving for Virginia in the morning would destroy his opportunity to follow through on his vow. If only he had some way to get a message to Barrik. The man could find anyone in a matter of days. He gripped the dagger’s handle tighter. The tantalizing prospect wet his mouth like the scent of sizzling meat, but just as quickly he grimaced. He could send no messenger. He may be a captain, but the soldiers were too loyal to his witless father and could not be trusted with secrecy.
He cursed under his breath and moved from the shadow of the building to the sun-blasted street. There had to be a way to get a message to Barrik. If there was, he had only hours in which to do it. If there wasn’t, the decision he must make was too difficult for his mind to produce.
All the same, he would keep his vow no matter the cost. Donaldson’s days were few in number.
~~~
The foul air drifting up from the wharf seemed a pleasant dream compared to the nightmare of aromas that consumed the underbelly of the ship all those long days across the sea. Anna gripped the bag in her hands, crunching beneath her feet every remaining fear as she stepped from the dock to the bustling streets of New York.
Head high, she strolled beside the other travelers, mindless of the heat that threatened to blister her back and the anxieties that threatened her resolve. A few queer looks from fellow travelers almost made her belly twist. Was it her imagination or did their stares whisper, “He knows you have come.” Several steps forward and the questions she’d attempted to ignore continued to plague. Did her father know? Had his years of paranoia and greed made him follow her as he’d done before? Could she really blend in amongst the people of the colonies, or would the truth betray her?
A hard thump against her leg jolted her and the man whose cart she’d bumped scowled, the spray of words hitting her like rain. “Watch where you’re going! Are you blind?”
She corrected her balance and offered an apologetic smile. “Forgive me, sir.”
He growled at her apology as if it had splattered over his goods. “If you don’t plan to buy then move on.”
Resisting the frown that pulled at her mouth, she nodded and continued on, sidling beside the others as they continued through the crowded street. Would all the people of New York treat her in such a way? Hardly a good omen, but she’d never been one to allow such a thing to buckle her knees.
Far across the miles her father’s voice whispered, the hairs on her neck pricking. Foolish, foolish girl.
The bark of a dog and whinny of a horse knocked her from the fatal thoughts. What would Mother have said? Anna dodged sideways seconds before stepping in a large pile of horse manure. She lifted her skirts an inch and gazed more intently on where she placed her feet. Mother was the one who instilled in her spirit those things that mattered. Faith, kindness, confidence. Then again, ten years of marriage to a man she hadn’t loved, to a man who cared only for her face and the attention she awarded him, had done plenty to etch away those precious parts of her. She stopped and held tighter to the small bag that carried everything she owned. Edwin was gone. Here was a new chance at life. A new land, a new way of thinking.
Closing her eyes, she inhaled. With this blessing, this new-found freedom, she could make her own choices and plan for her future without the dictates of the man who wished to use her for his gain. For the first time in all her six and twenty years, she would discover who she truly was.
She started her feet once more, this time her stride longer, her back straighter. A smile tickled one side of her face. Mother would be proud—nay, she will be. For she watched from heaven. She’d promised she would.
As Anna continued to the center of town the face of her dear brother—his kind, soft eyes, same in shape and color as her own—consumed her mind. Samuel had been here. America had been his last home. It would be hers as well. The mere thought of being where he had been for so long brought strength to her weary limbs.
I shall discover what happened to you, brother. You may depend upon it.
A loud volley of laughter jumped at her from the front of a large two-story building. She turned to the right and inhaled a delighted breath. Three buildings from her, in the center of the street, a crowd of soldiers gathered.
She strode forward, hardly feeling the hard cobblestone beneath her shoes. Surely this was a sign from God. Of course she’d thought of what she might do, who she might question in her attempts to gain the knowledge she sought. But here, most clearly was what she must do. And why hadn’t she thought of it before?
Not far from the crowd, a young soldier, not much older than a boy, turned to her and bowed his head ever so slightly. The others, four in total, hushed and turned to her, nodding in unison.
An older one spoke. “May we be of some assistance, miss?”
She grinned, waiting a beat until she was sure her sudden nerves wouldn’t add a tremor to her voice. “I’m…I’m looking for someone.”
The same soldier spoke again, with a gleam in his dark eyes that wormed an uncomfortable sensation to the pit of her stomach. “And who might that be?”
“My—” she stopped. If she divulged she sought her brother, and perchance her father had followed her, or sent someone else to follow such information could bode ill. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m looking for someone by the name of Captain Samuel Martin.”
Only vacant looks. A few shoulders bobbed. Perhaps one or two heads tilted in thought, but that was all. But of course they knew of him. Hadn’t he been a captain? Did that not mean he had earned such a rank with his bravery and obvious intelligence? Did that not earn him prestige and celebrity?
Sighing, she tilted her head. “He was stationed in Boston last I heard.”
They only stared. Of course she would have gone into Boston directly had not the strains between the colonies and the king closed the harbor.
Good heavens! Was this the treatment she was to expect? She raised her chin and added a notch of force behind her mostly reserved tone. “It is imperative that I speak with him. If you would inform me of someone who may know his location I would be most grateful.”
“The name is familiar…” A tall one in the back inclined his head toward the brick building at the right. “You’ll want to speak with Major Stockton. I believe he was Martin’s superior”
Finally some cordiality. “I thank you, sir.” She bobbed a quick curtsy and strode toward the house—or what looked like a house. Two guards, one at either side of the door, stood rigid with muskets at their sides, white wigs and hats atop heads that peered forward, faces void of expression.
The one on the left, whose white wig looked freshly powdered, addressed her first. “May we help you, miss?”
“Aye, thank you.” She smiled, attempting to flick the irritation that began to buzz like the flies that seemed to find the narrow street so pleasing. “I should like to see Major Stockton.”
Both sets of eyebrows suddenly pressed to their noses, and Anna ground the frustration at her feet. They were only yards from the group she’d just left. Had they not heard the conversation? She blamed her rising annoyance on the plagues of fatigue, hunger, and if she admitted it, fear.
With a breath, she attempted the request a second time. “I need to speak with your superior on a pressing matter.” She paused, inspecting their quirked mouths and narrowed eyes. “Please?”
Like the others, they regarded her as if she’d spoken a language completely foreign.
She cleared her throat, caressing her voice with both charm and confidence. “I am looking to discuss a matter of great urgency.”
The other soldier shook his head, hi
s eyes squinting, as if he still endeavored to understand her meaning. “Forgive me, miss, but has Major Stockton asked to see you?”
“Well, no, but—”
“I thought as much.” The soldier shifted his weight over his feet, impatience bleeding from his eyes. “Major Stockton doesn’t see anyone unless he wishes to see them first.”
“Well, of course. I do understand.” She offered a slight smile. “But I’m sure if you knew the reason for my coming and how desperately I must speak with—”
“You are welcome to wait inside, miss, but I won’t make you any promises.”
She breathed out a sigh and grinned. “Thank you.”
Gripping the door handle, she stopped when he spoke again. “You might be waiting for some time.”
With a nod, she opened the door. “I appreciate your candor, but I assure you I will wait as long as I must.”
Anna placed herself just inside the doorway of the regiment headquarters, keeping her posture straight despite the insecurities that threatened to weaken her. One soldier stood in front of another door, behind which erupted several heated voices. He acknowledged her with a scowl, as if she were a stray dog the army had taken to feeding with reluctance. She took a quick, sweeping look around the room. A lonely chair rested in front of the entryway window, and she quickly determined to keep it company by putting its vacancy to use.
Voices continued to bellow from behind the closed door and she imagined the deeper-toned one must be Major Stockton’s. A word here or there wedged through the barrier, but Anna kept her attention on the outside, praying that her audience with the major would not come near the level of discord of the current exchange.
Staring through the window that overlooked the small street, her mind drifted to the recent memories that clung to her spirit like the scent of stale smoke. She tapped her fingers against the small bag in her hands. Had she done right? Leaving all she owned—all but her Bible with Samuel’s likeness tucked in the pages, her beloved sewing kit, the clothes on her body, and the treasured ring and chain around her neck—to come to this rough land in search of something that she might never find? Nay. She shifted her head to tilt away the misgivings. Leaving had been her only choice. Another marriage like her first—loveless and empty—would have been the death of her. If not the death of her body, then indeed the death of her spirit.
As she watched the crowd of soldiers she fingered the ring that rested on her chest, her mother’s words singing from the past. I want only happiness for you, child. Marry for love alone, not for status or money or rank. We are come to this life to have joy, though sorrow will be ever present, that is true. If you are joined with the one who truly fills your heart, you will never wet your pillow with tears of regret.
A familiar figure in the road jerked her from her memories and Anna leaned closer to the window, clutching the bag as her pulse took flight. She blinked and tried to clear her vision. Nay. Her mind but played a trick. She scowled. Her breath quickened and she leaned closer to the glass. Across the road, beyond the soldiers and past a resting horse and cart, a man stood. Staring at her.
Spinning from sight, she pressed her back against the wall of the entry, hoping the distance and commotion of soldiers had made her invisible. The thumping in her chest told her otherwise. She blinked, rifling like mad through her mind to locate when and where she had seen those eyes. England perhaps? On the ship?
“Miss?…Pardon me, miss.”
“Oh!” Anna jumped and spun, her cheeks hot as the sun that beat the side of the building. She cleared her throat and took a breath to calm her embarrassment. “Do forgive me, I’m afraid I was lost in thought.”
The soldier nodded slowly, a questioning tilt to his mouth. “What is your business here?”
A hopeful excitement burst from her chest, but she clamped it down and answered with practiced calm. “I should like to speak with Major Stockton on matters of—”
“I’m sorry…” The man shook his head. “I fear he is preparing to leave and hasn’t time to speak with anyone.”
Anna stood motionless. She squinted, trying to make sense of what he said. “You don’t understand I need to speak with him on matters of extreme—”
“As I said, miss, I’m deeply sorry, but there’s nothing I can do.”
She lost a measure of her posture. “You are in earnest.” The truth began to take root, and her stomach twisted.
Any hope she’d borne wilted like a plucked flower. Reaching for the reserves of determination that waited within, she looked toward the door then to the man in front of her. Undeterred by his one raised eyebrow, or the way he continued to look behind her as if he wished she’d find her way from the building, she smiled.
“Then I should like to know to whom I may speak in regard to a Captain Samuel Martin. I understood that—”
“I beg your pardon, miss.”
Anna contained a retort behind pursed lips. Must he continue to interrupt?
He lowered his chin, as if preparing to speak some unpleasant news to a pleading child. “You are not enlisted in His Majesty’s Army and have no previous appointment. Therefore, there is nothing that I can do for you.” His eyes widened and his mouth pinched, indicating he was more than finished with her.
Anna’s skin prickled as shame dripped down her back. Her father’s voice laughed from across the sea. Vain attempt.
She glanced down at the simple homespun gown. In place of her usual silks and lace, this rough, plain fabric contributed to her newly espoused identity. An identity that had yet to change as easily within as it had without. In years past she’d needed only to request something for it to be granted. Money often had a way of speaking louder than words or connections ever could. Not that having wealth ever became the desire of her heart, as it seemed to do with others. Simply, such had been her way of life. But no more.
What now, simpleton?
She gave herself the reprimand she deserved before she met his gaze and offered a humble half-smile. “I do understand fully, and I thank you for making that clear.”
Anna straightened. This was merely a slight impediment, something to be expected and certainly nothing she couldn’t remedy. If Major Stockton had known Samuel, then she’d do whatever it took to find him. With a grin she hoped would inform the impatient soldier she was not one to be easily deterred, Anna turned and opened the door. She paused and widened her smile to indicate she wouldn’t ease his obvious pains without first making this slight setback worth her while. “Seeing as how Major Stockton is unavailable, perhaps you would be so kind as to tell me—”
“You don’t seem to understand.”
An unladylike grumble waited for release in her throat. Why must he be so rude? The man deserved a scolding. She refrained from stomping her foot, however desperately she wished to. “I simply wish to know if there is anyone else—”
He cut her off again, this time with volume raised. “There is no one else—”
“What seems to be the trouble, Gaiters?”
Both Anna and the soldier turned to see another man standing just below them on the stoop. Tall, commanding, and with features that spoke as strong as his deep voice, he removed his hat and bowed. His red coat appeared freshly laundered and the sword at his side gleamed from the beam of afternoon light.
The man he’d addressed as Gaiters stood straighter and answered, nudging his elbow toward Anna. “This woman claims she must speak with Major Stockton on urgent business. I’ve just informed her that he is not available for an audience.”
“Indeed.” The new stranger replaced his tricorne. “I should be grateful, miss, if you would apprise me of your business so that I may assist you, forthwith.” He bowed at the waist, keeping his eyes upon her. “Captain Paul Stockton, Major Stockton’s son, at your service”
Anna curtsied and stopped herself from staring at the man’s sky-blue eyes. Her unexpressed prayers must have made it to God’s ears before she’d even had time to contemplate them. Surely t
he son could be as helpful as the father. Perhaps more so. “I would be most grateful, indeed, sir.”
Paul motioned to the man who seemed perpetually irritated. “I shall escort her outside. Return to your duties.”
He gave a curt nod. “Aye, sir.”
Paul cocked his elbow and offered it to Anna, which she took without hesitation, stepping down the few bricks to the street.
She inhaled deeply for the first time in days. “I cannot begin to thank you for your consideration, Captain.”
“I am grateful to be of service, and pray, do not feel you must use such formality. My name is Paul.” His voice was as deep as the waters she’d just crossed. “Would you be so kind as to tell me your name?”
A warning bell chimed in the back of her mind. What gentleman offered the use of his first name with such flippancy? Certainly she would not ignore propriety.
“I am Miss Whitehead.” Anna craned her neck to peer up at him, reading his response to her answer. The lie seemed to be believed. She squinted against the sun. “I do hope you will be able to help me.”
“I’ll do whatever I can.” He smiled at her in a way that made her pulse jump. He wasn’t handsome, not to her way of thinking, but the mere thought of being gazed upon in such a way by someone her own age created a smile of her own that started deep within.
They walked slowly to the side of the house, away from the commotion of the street, but she soon stopped, grateful for the added privacy but uneasy at the thought of being too alone with him. “I do not wish…I do not wish to make my business widely known, which is why I had hoped to speak with your father. Seeing that he is in a position of trust, I believed he would keep my confidence.”
Paul’s features relaxed and in the same instance turned serious, calming the sudden bubbling nerves in Anna’s chest. Could she trust him? Even if she couldn’t, who else would help her? Lord, guide me.
“You may put your confidence in me, Miss Whitehead.”
So Rare a Gift (Daughters of His Kingdom Book 3) Page 3
