THE CRY FOR FREEDOM (Winds of Betrayal)

by Jerri Hines

  “Take these letters home with you, Jonathan,” Doctor Jenkins wrapped up the papers, tying them together.

  Jonathan accepted them, placing them securely in his waist coat pocket. With the threat of war looming on the horizon, the awareness swept through Jonathan of the staggering problems that encompassed maintenance of a secret life.

  * * * *

  Particular confidential intelligence had led Colonel Marcus Durham to this place stationed outside the New York harbor, the East End Tavern. A wind had begun to gust; dark, drifting clouds threatened to obscure the sun. A storm loomed on the horizon. He sat in wait.

  A boom of thunder roared in the distance. Westward fast flying clouds flickered with white light. Marcus stared morosely at the lightening-ridden clouds. Lightning flashed again, but no rain fell. He tethered his horse in front of his destination, the East End Tavern. His eyes caught sight of the man he sought, a large, big boned man. The other, hopefully, was ready to meet up with him.

  Durham fixed his eyes on the man tying his horse to the post. The man turned and glanced around. All seemed as it should. It was Marcus’ job to make sure all seemed so. The man took a deep breath, and then walked into the tavern. Marcus hoped this would be quick. He wanted to depart before the storm broke.

  Thunder roared again. Marcus stepped into the tavern and took a seat in the back. Another roar of thunder shook the shelter. He surveyed the room, glancing around the room while he ordered his rum. He took note of the door and windows. A couple of men stood at the bar. Shore men.

  Before he took the first sip of his rum an unruly bunch entered, his men. Loud, obnoxious, the group of five announced their entrance. From the look of their long coats, the hats over their ears and the smell of the sea, one would have no doubt that they’d just landed after a long ocean voyage.

  Marcus stood and made his move. He slapped his intended target on his back. The man looked up. Rodger Morse. Marcus said heartily, “You look lonely, old chap. Come join us, won’t you?”

  Rodger grimaced. He casually shook his head. “Thanks, but I am afraid I would not be good company. Enjoy yourselves.”

  “Not an issue. You looked as though you needed friends.” He withdrew back to his companions, nodding for all to get in position.

  “Mr. Morse?”

  Morse glanced up at the barmaid. Marcus watched intently.

  “I was given this note for you.”

  Marcus watched Morse quickly read the paper and downed the last of his rum. Delibes must already be here. Marcus waved his hand after Morse stood and began his ascent up the stairs. He turned, glancing back at all, but continued upward. Marcus eyed his captain and nodded. There was no need to wait any longer. His men disbursed quickly.

  The men hurried up the steps, taking by surprise the occupants within the tavern. Marcus turned to the barkeeper, “It will be best if all stay where they are.”

  The man nodded nervously. No one moved. Marcus heard a knock and then gunfire. Rapid footsteps pounded above. Someone was out upon the roof. Marcus hurried out the door. Looking up, he caught sight of his target. A sudden burst of wind knocked the man forward. Skidding, Morse upheld his balance on the uneven surface with a package under his arms.

  The storm grew near. The wind blew fiercely. Marcus blinked his eyes to adjust to the night and the weather. The blinking didn’t clear his vision, but he caught sight of Morse taking a leap from the end of the roof.

  Marcus yelled orders over the sound of the storm. He mounted his horse and raced around the inn. He caught sight of a man limping, approaching a horse’s side. The man climbed into the saddle and was off before Marcus had a chance to get a shot off.

  Beside him a large portion of his unit raced off after the man. He picked up his pace. Nudging his horse, the horse bolted forth, sensing the danger.

  Raindrops which just moments before dripped lightly, rushed downward. Lightning flashed in the sky. Marcus pushed his horse on. Shots rang out. He pressed harder. He couldn’t let him get away. Rounding the bend, they lost sight of the target.

  “Spread out! Spread out! Find him!” Marcus yelled over the rain and wind. His men dispersed in all directions. He tethered back his horse. “He couldn’t have gone far!”

  “Colonel,” one of his men called as he rode up beside him a few minutes later. “We’ve seem to have lost the trail.”

  “Damnit! Find him now,” Marcus commanded. Damn, this weather, he thought. We had him! “Split up. Search everywhere!”

  The rain poured and his temper raged. Where would he go? Instincts he long had used to his advantage surfaced in him. He thought back to when he inspected the area. Wasn’t there a small shed not far from here when he laid out the area? Rain flowed off him, but he urged his mount onward. Through the rain, he caught sight of a small leaning shed along the river’s edge.

  A lone horse sat outside the shed. Silently, the men circled the structure. Marcus dismounted, pistol held tight in his hand. With his foot, he busted the door open, but no sounds ensued. Sprawled on the dirt floor lay the man he had followed. Blood oozed into a puddle around the lifeless body. Marcus leaned over. Morse had been shot through the back. Marcus scanned the shed. There was no package. Drag marks embedded in the ground indicated someone had moved the body within. Morse had had an accomplice.

  Anger spewed forth. Dead men can’t talk.

  “Sorry, Colonel,” one of his men came forward. “Delibes is dead. We had no choice. He fired upon us. He had nothing in his room.”

  Marcus ran his hand through his wet hair and shook his head. All would have been so much simpler if this mission ended this night. He gritted his teeth together. All was not lost. “It only means, Tom, we have to change our plans. We know where they want to take the device. We go back to Williamsburg.”

  Chapter Four

  Hannah Corbett dug her heels into her mount’s side, urging her sorrel horse on. She had a need to expel her frustration. She glanced behind her shoulder and smiled. She was a good length in front of her closest challenger. She clicked her mouth. The horse galloped faster.

  Laughing, Hannah pushed her mount. Her horse rounded the bend sharply. Suddenly, her eyes caught sight of a traveler standing aside his mount in her path. She pulled the reins and took a detour to the right. In one swift movement, she jumped the rail fence beside him. Two others reined their horses in as dust rose from the dirt road.

  “Hannah Corbett, you could have killed yourself,” a voice cried out. Jonathan dismounted from his horse. He glanced over at the stranger. “Pray, excuse us, sir. We were out for a morning ride, which, as you can see, became something of a competition. I sincerely hope you weren’t injured.”

  Hannah’s attention turned to Gabriel, who had jumped off his mount and leaned against the railing, his interest firmly fixed upon her. Hannah gave thought only to comfort when she dressed in breeches and shirt, which she borrowed from her cousin. Her hat had been blown off during the jump, leaving her dark, brown hair loose falling over her shoulders down her back.

  “I won,” he laughed out of breath.

  “Oh, no, you didn’t, Gabriel Witherspoon!” Hannah shook her head in defiance. “I was a good length in front of you. If it hadn’t been for....” She remembered in that moment a stranger was among them. She dismounted and hastened her way over.

  “I hope you are all right,” she said addressing the stranger. “I’m so sorry. Usually we don’t have many riders down this road this early.”

  She crawled through the fence and tied her reins to the post. Looking up, her attention was drawn to the stranger’s hand, which rested upon his large, cumbersome saddlebag. He looked tired and worn from his journey. His horse had been ridden so hard the animal’s flanks lathered. Without question he had traveled a distance in a short period of time.

  Jonathan gave Hannah a disapproving look and turned to the traveler. “Let me introduce all. Jonathan Corbett, Doctor Jonathan Corbett,” he added with pride. He pointed to Hannah, “My sister, yo
u saw jump the fence, Hannah Corbett, and my good friend, Gabriel Witherspoon.”

  The man collected himself. He dusted himself off and extended his hand toward the young man. His manner eased upon the utterance. He said simply, “Peter Lanson from New York City.”

  Hannah eyed her brother intently. She saw instantly that Jonathan recognized the name. She tilted her head, glancing back over at the gentleman. “I hope you weren’t injured, but I’m confident that my brother would be able to help you if you are. He has just returned back from Philadelphia and his studies.”

  “I assure you, I’m am intact. I should have known better than to stop in the path of a race,” Lanson nodded. His attention turned toward Jonathan. “I would hate to impose upon your goodness, but I have traveled far. My horse is in need of water. I’m in search of a man, and given your names, you may know of him. A John Corbett? He’s a silversmith in Williamsburg.”

  Hannah looked strangely at him. “But of course. He’s our father. Why would you come this way outside of Williamsburg when…?”

  Jonathan interrupted her and stepped into between the two. “I believe I understand, Mr. Lanson. I’m aware that Father has been expecting visitors, but I have to admit, he may have been expecting another one with you.”

  Lanson’s expression hardened. “Unfortunately, Mr. Morse didn’t make it. I don’t mean to press the issue, but it is of the utmost importance I see your father quickly. Being it best that the least people know I am here the better. Do you think you might be able to offer me aid?”

  Jonathan sighed uneasily and glanced over at Hannah. Hannah returned the stare. From the look he gave her, he wanted her to be quiet and ask no more questions.

  “Gabriel, can you take our visitor down to the old Kerr’s cabin down at the river’s bend? Hannah, go bring him some clean clothes and food from Uncle Nathanial’s. At least he will be able to rest. I have to go see Father. I won’t be long. Don’t say a word to anyone! Is that clear?” Jonathan ordered, daring his sister to challenge him.

  Hannah ignored her brother. A twinkle arose in her eyes. “What is it?”

  “Hannah, for once don’t ask questions. Father would insist,” Jonathan admonished.

  Gabriel chuckled under his breath. “Don’t worry. I will take care of everything,” he replied, eyeing Hannah. “We will see to the needs of Mr. Lanson, I assure you.”

  Hannah glared at Gabriel, who only laughed again at her irritation. He, too, seemed to know what was going on. She turned back to her brother, but too late. He had already remounted. He nudged his horse and rode toward Williamsburg.

  Hannah reluctantly performed the duties her brother had requested. Once more annoyance surged within her. Ever since Jonathan had returned from Philadelphia, her irritation had grown. Her spirits elevated so high with the expectation of her beloved brother’s, Jonathan, returned home and Gabriel’s. Only to discover her beloved brother had eloped with a stranger. A stranger who had no desire to meet his family.

  Jonathan had met with their father and William at length. She had been well kept out of their conversation. She had been left with the women! Pacing, outside the study. Mother Agnes repeatedly reprimanded her.

  But her frustration was not only caused by being left in the dark, it was also Gabriel’s behavior. He hadn’t once tried to be alone with her. After her father gave permission, wasn’t the next logical move an announcement?

  To even further exasperate her nerves were Gabriel’s actions this morning. Hadn’t he sent her a note to ride? After taking painstaking efforts not to be discovered exiting the house, who had she found down by the stables? Her brother!

  Approaching the old Kerr’s cabin down by the river, Hannah pulled back the reins to a trot. Her brother had faith in his sister that she could successfully sneak back into their uncle’s home undetected; a feat she had performed many times previously.

  The Kerr’s had left years before to go to the backwoods of Kentucky. Boards hung down which left a hole in the sides of the walls. The yard had overgrown with weeds. The door propped against the frame of the house. The house cried for attention, but it would serve the purpose for today-isolation.

  Hannah saw Gabriel standing upon the porch. He smiled at her with a dazzling smile. Gabriel had always been self-assured, confident in his good looks. His eyes sparkled. He jumped off, meeting her far from the cabin’s door. Handing him all she had collected, he placed the supplies on the ground and extended his arms to help her dismount.

  She slipped out to the saddle and she descended into his arms. He entrapped her with his embrace, leaned down and kissed her full upon her lips. For a brief moment she responded back, and then withdrew, “Mr. Lanson?”

  He drew her back into his arms. “He’s asleep. Must have had an exhausting trip.”

  She returned his smile and clasped her arms around his neck. He kissed her again. His lips descended upon her neck and back up to her lips. Catching their breath, Gabriel said, “I have never seen one look so desirable in men’s breeches.”

  “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

  “You, my dear, don’t seem the sort to look for empty compliments,” he responded.

  “What sort am I then?” she met his eyes.

  “The sort I desire,” he answered.

  “Save your fine talk, Gabriel Witherspoon. Where have you been? Father talked with me about you, which gave me great hope. Only to have all dashed, for you have made no effort toward me. Have you found someone more suitable for your needs?” she sparred back at him.

  Momentarily taken back, Gabriel stood silently. Her eyes met his.

  “You don’t deny it. Then you don’t want me anymore?” She abruptly turned from him and made her way to the worn cabin’s door. Gabriel grabbed her arm and jerked her back to him.

  “I have eyes only for you, Hannah,” he whispered.

  “Ah, but your family. Is that it, Gabriel? What do they have problems with? Tell me! I won’t be played with, Gabriel,” she shot back.

  Gabriel didn’t loosen his hold. “You look even more beautiful when you are mad,” he murmured. He took his hand to her face. “Since my return from Europe, I can assure you, my dreams have only been of you. To have found such an enchanting creature that replaced the little shadow that followed her brother and myself.

  “Do you ever think I could ever be happy without you within my arms?” he whispered in her ear, pulling her back to him. His hand pushed back her hair from her face. “Do you think I wanted Jonathan to ride this morning?”

  “I thought you asked him,” she uttered in a low voice.

  “Oh, no, my darling. It seems your brother also wants to stand between us, for which I will talk with him.” His arm rounded her, tightening around her waist. His hand worked her shirt loose from her pants. Her hand pushed against his chest and gave him pause. His other hand took hers, staring into her eyes. “Trust me, Hannah. You truly know that I love you. I have thought about us constantly. My parents hesitate, your father only reluctantly gave his permission to save you from going to New York, but if we show them of our love for each other.”

  A gasp escaped her voice. “What do you want to do?”

  “Oh, my innocent, Hannah. I want you,” he said softly. “I want to show you all. I want to love you. Then no one could deny us. I want to make love to you.” His lips came down hard upon hers, demanding. His hand freed her shirt, caressed her bare skin, easing his hand up her body. “We need to find a place where we can be alone, and soon.”

  He pulled away only with reluctance as the pounding of horses’ hooves over gravel could be heard. Hannah quickly tucked her shirt back in as she backed away.

  “Don’t worry, my love, I will work on a time,” he whispered. Her face flushed, but could say little else. Rounding the bend, her father and brothers rode up.

  * * * *

  Hannah loved Mount Fairview, her second home, her second family. Her Aunt Claire bore her uncle eleven children, eight surviving infancy. Only fou
r of her cousins still resided at Mount Fairview. And poor Zachary was one of them. Being the closest in age to Hannah, he had been given the inherited responsibility of Hannah’s care while on the plantation, especially now with threats of raids along the riverfront from the British being anticipated.

  Already unrest lay throughout the countryside with the rumors of the terror accompanied by Governor Dunmore’s promise of freedom to slaves if they fought alongside the Tories. Hannah did little to alleviate the unrest on the plantation nor did she hide her aggravation of being left behind by Jonathan and Gabriel when they returned to Williamsburg.

  Contrary to James, his younger brother, Zachary was a timid sort, not of a hardy disposition and quite the nervous type. Scrawny, lanky in appearance with a strident voice, he had the unfortunate habit of a constant sniffle. Hannah knew well that Zachary was under continual pressure to perform beyond his abilities. But he grinded on her nerves so with his constant lectures while he accompanied her on the long rides she insisted upon going every day.

  Hannah, slow down! Hannah, don’t! Hannah, where are you?, Father wouldn’t like that!

  In turn, he took the blunt of her unrest! Hannah tried to stop herself, but found Zachary provoked her to such actions.

  Over a week had passed since Gabriel had whispered the words of seduction in her ears, promises he seemed ready to abandon with his departure. Her mood hadn’t improved. The first light of the day greeted Hannah on her morning ride. With the dew still upon the grass, Hannah rode through the pasture. She rolled her eyes listening to Zachary whine.

  “Father likes for us to stay on the road, Hannah. He doesn’t want us to go down by the river or the Kerr’s old cabin.”