Slowly Grayson raised his hands. Maggie followed suit. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw the tent flap move.
Suddenly Michaels appeared in the doorway, and before anyone could move, or even speak, the boy pulled the trigger of his flintlock rifle, shooting Riker in the back, point blank.
Chapter Twenty-five
For a sickening moment, Grayson and Maggie stood over Riker's body, staring in disbelief. He'd been dead before he hit the ground.
Grayson lifted his gaze to meet Michaels'. Tears ran unchecked down the boy's face. His discharged army-issue flintlock shook in his trembling hands.
"Good God, Michaels!" Grayson groaned. "You've killed him!"
Michaels nodded, his gaze fixed on the lieutenant's still body. "I couldn't let him take you to the major. I couldn't see you hang, sir." He looked up at Grayson, his lower lip trembling. For a moment he had been a man, but suddenly he was just a frightened boy again. "No matter who you are."
Maggie suddenly sprang into action. "Grayson! We've got to get out of here!" She threw his boots to him and grabbed his coat and bag of personal belongings he'd packed only this evening. "Where's your pistol?" she demanded. She knew they had to think and act quickly. If they didn't both get out of the British camp in a few moments' time, they might well hang as traitors to the Crown. There was no telling who Riker had spoken to before he'd come to the tent to make his arrests.
Both men stood staring at each other, dazed. "My pistol?" Grayson asked.
"Your pistol!"
"In the drawer."
Maggie grabbed the loaded pistol and swung around to face the rear of the tent. Cocking the hammer, she pulled the trigger and fired through the canvas wall.
"What are you doing?" Grayson cried.
"Michaels!" Maggie ordered. "Holler sniper."
The boy gulped. "Ma'am?"
"Holler sniper! There're rebel snipers firing on the camp! For God's sake, Michaels, don't you see? A sniper just killed the lieutenant!"
Michaels' eyes went wide with understanding. "Sniper," he squeaked.
"Louder!" Maggie ordered as she grabbed her bag of bootmaking tools and her wool cloak.
"Sniper!" Michaels shouted. "Sniper! Sniper!"
Maggie grabbed Grayson by the sleeve. He had by this time slipped into his boots and was reloading his pistol. "We've got to get out of here," she told him insistently. "We'll use the cover of the commotion." She turned back to Private Michaels. "Keep hollering! Get somebody in here!"
Michaels ducked outside the tent. Maggie could already hear soldiers running. Someone must have misfired because suddenly there was a spray of gunfire. Somewhere in the distance a cannon sounded. Whether it was English or American, she didn't know.
Maggie dragged Grayson out of the tent and into the darkness. She swung her cloak over her shoulders and lifted the hood to cover her face. She pushed Grayson's cocked hat onto his head, pulling it down low so that no one could recognize him easily in the darkness.
Half-dressed redcoats were running everywhere. Lanterns swung as soldiers hurried to their posts, hitching up their breeches as they ran. Men shouted and called to one another. A horse broke loose and hit a tent wire, bringing down a mess tent and adding to the general confusion.
"I think I see one!" a soldier shouted as he raced past Maggie. "There in the trees!" he called to his companion.
Rifles sounded again and again.
"Help! Help!" Michaels shouted. "A lieutenant's been shot!" Someone raced past Grayson and Maggie with a medic bag across his back and ducked inside Grayson's tent where Riker's body lay.
Grayson slipped into his coat and reached for Michaels, who was standing just outside the circle of light that poured from Grayson's open tent. "Michaels?"
The blond-haired boy looked up. "Sir?"
Maggie could hear the strain in Grayson's voice as he tried to find the right words. "Son, do what you have to with what you heard tonight, but I want you to remember . . ." He paused, glancing away before forcing himself to look into Michaels' teary eyes. "I want you to remember that no matter what happens, no matter what you think of me, I love you." Grayson threw his arms around the boy and hugged him tightly.
The private lowered his head to Grayson's shoulder, clenching him tightly.
"Grayson," Maggie said gently, tugging on his arm. "We got to get out of here before anyone realizes you're missing."
Giving Michaels a final pat on the back, Grayson took the canvas bag Maggie held out to him and together they slipped off into the night.
Grayson pounded on Zeke's back door with his fist. "Zeke!" he called. "Zeke, it's Grayson!"
Maggie hung behind him. "Something's not right," she murmured. "There's a light on inside. Zeke's never up this late."
Grayson banged again. "Zeke!"
Maggie heard the bolt slip on the door. Grayson pushed it open. "Get your rifle, Zeke," Grayson told him as he stepped inside, not taking the time to wait for an invitation.
"What is it? What's going on?" Zeke asked.
Maggie walked in behind Grayson. "It's Carter, Zeke. Carter's the traitor among us!"
Zeke's disbelieving eyes met Maggie's. "No . . ."
"Yes," Grayson said, taking Zeke's flintlock down from over the door and tossing it to him.
Zeke's hands instinctively went up and he caught the firearm. "How can that be? You have proof?"
"Maggie and I heard the truth of it with our own ears. Carter was Riker's informant. Riker's dead, but we've to get to Carter if we can."
Zeke swung the rifle over his shoulder by the leather strap and reached for his ammunition bag.
Maggie touched his arm. "Everything all right here?"
He shook his head as he reached for his buckskin tunic. "Mama's down bad. She's dying, Maggie."
"Can you leave her alone?"
"Lyla's here. They been gettin' on real good." He smiled grimly. "Mama likes her. Says her hands are warm."
"Can I see your mama?"
Zeke gave a nod. "She might still be awake."
"Maggie," Grayson said gently, "we've got to go. It's important that we get to Carter before anyone else does." He paused. "You could stay here if you'd rather," he offered hopefully.
"I'll be right back." She held up her finger. "Wait for me."
Slipping into the parlor, Maggie approached the bed Mildred was curled up in. A small figure sat in a straight-backed chair leaning over the old woman, offering her sips of tea.
At the sound of footsteps, Lyla turned.
"How is she?" Maggie slowly approached the bed. Mildred looked so small and lost in the mountain of quilts piled around her.
Lyla shrugged. "I don't know what's wrong with her except she's give out."
Maggie came to the bedside and took Mildred's wrinkled hand in hers. She was cool to the touch, despite the warmth of the room and the heavy quilts she lay beneath. "Mildred," she said softly. "Mildred, it's Maggie."
It seemed to take a great effort for the old woman to open her eyes. "Maggie?" Her voice was barely audible.
Maggie smiled, as she reached out to brush a lock of silvery white hair from Mildred's cheek. "Zeke says you're feelin' poorly."
Mildred smiled weakly. "Did he tell you I'm dyin'?"
Maggie forced a laugh. "No. Of course not."
"Well, I am."
"Oh, don't say that, Mildred. You're just tired. You'll be up and about in a few days."
"A few days and I'll be six feet under," Mildred declared, her constitution clearly a little stronger. "You met Lyla?"
Maggie glanced at the small blond-haired woman she knew Zeke loved. "I have."
"Nice girl. Make my Zeke a good wife. I only wish I was gonna live to see grandchildren."
Maggie patted her hand. "Of course you're going to see your grandchildren."
"Maggie," Zeke called from the doorway. "The major says we've got to move on. We have to get the others."
At the sound of Zeke's voice, Lyla immediat
ely rose and went to him. He took her hand. "Is there trouble?" she asked.
He turned up her palm and kissed it. "Nothing we can't take care of. You sit here with Mama until I get back. You hear me? Any redcoats come to the door, you don't know where I am or when I'll get back. You're just here carin' for an old, sick woman."
She nodded. "Ill be right here waitin' on you, Zeke." She reached up with one hand to caress his straggly, bearded cheek. "But don't you go getting yourself killed on me." She smiled up at him. "Not when I was thinkin' of marrying you."
He grinned. "Wouldn't think of gettin' killed. I'm too ornery." He released her hand. "Maggie Mae!"
Maggie turned back to Mildred, touched by what had just taken place between Zeke and Lyla. They were so comfortable together. It was as if they had known each other a lifetime. Maggie couldn't help wondering how she and Grayson appeared to others. Did they look as if they belonged together as Lyla and Zeke so obviously did?
Maggie leaned over Mildred. "I'll be back later," she whispered.
"No need. I'll be dead."
Maggie kissed the old woman's cheek. Her skin felt paper-thin and fragile as a dry leaf against her lips. "Good-bye, Mildred."
"Bye, sweet." The old woman patted Maggie's cheek. "You've been a good friend to me and my son. You've done enough for others, Maggie girl, it's time you done something for yourself. You marry that good-lookin' man of yours if that's what you want. You let him buy you fancy gowns and silver teapots. I can't think of anyone in the world who deserves it more than you."
Maggie sighed as she watched Mildred draw her withered hand beneath the quilt and close her eyes.
"Maggie!" Zeke called.
"I'm coming, I'm coming. Keep your breeches on!" She gave Mildred a final pat and then turned and followed Zeke out of the parlor and back into the kitchen. "I haven't got a weapon. You got something for me, Zeke?"
He reached into a rough-hewn cupboard and pulled out an old matchlock pistol. "She still shoots on the straight and narrow." He handed her a small leather pouch on a drawstring from a peg on the wall. "Let's go." He lifted his gaze to Grayson. "Major. You lead."
One by one the three filed out into the darkness, praying they reached Carter before the British did.
Maggie walked between Grayson and Zeke, trying to match her stride with theirs as Les led the way up the dark lane to Carter's house. Old Harry, Pete, and John brought up the rear on horseback.
Harry had been the first to know his son had betrayed them. After making arrangements to get his daughter-in-law, Mary, and his grandchildren safely out of Yorktown, he'd ridden straight for John Logan's. By chance Grayson and Maggie had come upon Harry and John as they all cut through the woods to Les Bennett's. John had then rode to the crossroad and retrieved Pete. Grayson and Zeke practically had to tie Les down to force him to wait until they were all gathered together before setting out after Carter.
"Harry, you don't have to do this," John murmured, riding beside the elderly gentleman. "We can do what's got to be done without you."
The old Virginia militiaman held his head high. "I been a part of this since the beginning," he said, trying to control the emotion in his voice. "My son betrayed me the same as he betrayed his friends and his country."
"But he's your son, for God's sake!" John laid his hand on Harry's.
Harry shook his head. "It's only right I be there."
John withdrew his hand. "I understand. I was just trying to save you the pain."
Harry glanced up at John, his pale-blue eyes filled with tears. "Too late. Nothin' left to do but sweep up the pieces and then move on. I'll be joining my daughter-in-law up Maryland way. I'm gonna live out what time I got left on this earth with my grandchildren."
John nodded. "I'm just sorry it had to happen this way, Harry. You're too good a man to have to live through this."
Harry shrugged beneath his moth-eaten cloak. "Many a thing has happened to me in the last seventy-odd years, son. Some of it good, some of it bad." His gaze met John's as he smiled a bittersweet smile. "But I have to tell you, I've had a good life along the way."
John smiled back at the old man and then urged his mount forward, swallowing against the lump that rose in his throat. He only hoped he could be as brave as Harry Perkins when it came to doing what he knew they had to do.
In silence, the rebel band rode up the wooded drive to Carter's house. Lamplight burned in the kitchen. He's waiting for us, Maggie thought with a stab of pain. Each of the men had tried to convince her to stay behind. Grayson said there was no need for her to come along, but she was one of them. She owed it to Carter to be there.
Just the same, it was hard for Maggie to walk into Carter's kitchen, the kitchen where in better days she'd sat around the table eating with his family, laughing about the good days before the war, the days when they'd been children growing up on the banks of the York River.
Carter was seated at the table. He just sat there with empty eyes as one by one his friends filed in. Harry entered the cold kitchen last. For an instant father and son locked gazes, but then Carter looked away, unable to hold up to his father's scrutiny.
"Tell me you didn't do it, Son," Harry said, leaning on his loaded flintlock. "Tell your papa you didn't betray him."
Carter hung his head. "You don't understand. I didn't do it on purpose. I never meant to hurt anyone."
"You just meant to turn a few coin," Les said bitterly. Harry had passed on to the others Mary's version of what Carter had done.
"I never meant to hurt any of you. I never meant for it to go so far!"
"My brother died because of you! They tortured him and they kilt him!" Les shouted coming after Carter, swinging his rifle butt.
Grayson dove to stop Les. Carter fell over his chair backward trying to get out of Les's way. Pete and Zeke hauled Carter to his feet, keeping him just out of Les's reach.
"You've got to tell us who else besides Riker knows our identities," John said quietly. "Major Thayer's especially."
Carter shook his head. "I don't know," he murmured. "It was only Riker I talked to." He lifted his head. "He was gonna hurt my little girl, John. I had to tell him!"
"You never should have gotten yourself into this predicament!" Les hollered, still struggling against Grayson's hold. "You never should have told nobody anything to start with!"
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Carter declared through tears. "I'm so sorry, Les. I didn't know they were gonna kill Ed. He said they weren't gonna hurt him. He said as long as I told them what happened to the dispatches, no one was going to get hurt. Only Ed wouldn't give 'em up. I told Ed to tell 'em where the dispatches were," he sobbed.
"You were there, you bastard!" Les exploded, lunging for him again. Grayson held Les back, but it took effort.
"Whoa, whoa there, Les," John said, pressing his hand to Les's chest. "You said you could handle this. Now if you can't, you let the major escort you outside."
"He was there for God's sake! The bastard let them kill my brother!"
"I couldn't stop 'em," Carter sobbed. "I swear I couldn't!"
"Let's get back to Riker," John said, trying to maintain control of the situation. "Who did you talk to? It couldn't have been Riker from the beginning, else it wouldn't have taken him this long to catch us."
Carter allowed Zeke and Pete to drag him to the chair John had uprighted. "No, no, I never knew it was Riker who was getting the information, not until he came here tonight!"
"Who did you talk to before?"
"That Tory, Natty Watkins."
"But Riker didn't know where the information was coming from?"
Carter shook his head. "Mostly I just told Natty little stuff—"
"And warned them we were coming, like the time your gun 'misfired' the night we were looking for that mailbag and found the payroll," Maggie said from the doorway.
Carter looked up. "They wanted me to tell 'em where we were going to hit, Mags. I didn't do it, though. I saved you from an ambush."
/> "We could've just as easily been killed by those redcoats," John said.
"You don't understand," Carter mumbled. "You don't understand."
"We understand you sold your loyalty," Maggie said, her voice stark in the cold room. "We only lost Ed—"
"And Billy Faulkner and his family," Grayson amended. He looked at Carter, who seemed such a pathetic man to him. Just the same, he was angry, damned angry. The man who had claimed to be a friend to Maggie had put her life in jeopardy, and for that, he hated Carter. "Billy was my man, Perkins. He was working for me."
Maggie nodded. "All of us here tonight could have died if Riker hadn't come to Grayson's tent instead of going to Major Lawrence first."
When Carter said nothing in his own defense, John sighed. He was weary to the bone. "Is there anything else we should know, Carter? Was there anyone with Riker when he came here, anyone he might have told what you told him?"
"That Gordy fellow was with him, but he didn't let Gordy in when we were talkin'," Carter responded softly. "I got the idea Riker wanted to bring everyone in on his own so he could prove himself to his uncle." He looked up at the group. "Don't you understand? Riker was going to hurt my family if I didn't tell him."
"You're the one who hurt your family," Harry said. "The day you took the very first bloody cent." He looked to John. "Let's say we take care of this and get out. It turns my stomach sick just to look at him."
"Papa! You're . . . you're gonna turn me in?" Carter reached out toward his father, but Harry brushed him aside. "Please don't turn me in. They'll lock me up in the brig. They'll hang me!"
John gave a nod and Zeke and Pete lifted Carter out of his chair. "We're not going to let them hang you," John said solemnly. "We're going to do it ourselves."
Carter's face went ashen. "You . . . you wouldn't! Not your friend! Not your son, Papa!" He looked from one man to the next. "Mags?"
Maggie turned away and opened the door for Zeke and Pete, who began to lead Carter out. Carter made no attempt to fight them.
Outside, the stars hung low in the black sky. It was cold, but the night was clear. An owl hooted in a tree overhead, and then Maggie heard the sound of beating wings as the creature flew from the humans. Maggie felt Grayson's hand slip into hers and she was comforted.
The Bootmaker's Daughter: Revolution (Destiny's Daughters Book 2) Page 31
