Crims slapped his good knee and a cloud of dust motes rose like insects in the bright candlelight. “If you were my wife, I’d drink it.”
Bethany stomped away in a huff of pink froth, Crims saluting her with his cup.
Starring jumped right in. “Joshua, the townspeople are very worried over Colonel Allerton, the new man to fortify the fort next to the town. I believe the Patriot commanders in Albany who appointed him have made a mistake. Did you see him riding his fine gelding, parading his regiment into town under gaily fluttering colors, smiling broadly with messianic self-importance? Everyone feels their worries are over, but for me, the glow of reassurance has melted like snow on horse’s rear in July. I have my family to protect.”
Crims pointed the stem of his pipe. “Allerton is a pompous ass who considers every single one of the townspeople his subordinates, in either rank or social position and doesn’t fail to let us know he is a direct line descendent of John Allerton of Mayflower prominence. As if he were some fancy lordship. No one I’ve ever met has that kind of affiliation.”
Joshua cleared his throat and Juliet peered meaningfully to him. If they were aware of his and Juliet’s lineage.
“This afternoon he named the stockade Fort Allerton,” griped Crims. “If that isn’t a dunghill of conceit.”
Joshua had heard enough. He had sent a missive to Albany earlier in the year, begging for a commander and reinforcements, not the buffoon, Allerton. If he was to leave Juliet, he wanted her safe and the colonel better see that the tumbledown stockade he called Fort Allerton was reinforced.
There was a commotion at the door and the object of his dislike entered with his officers in full regalia. Time and war had altered him. Of medium height, he possessed dark sandy hair, sparser now and an increased paunch.
Bethany Powers, not to miss her shining moment, swooped down on Joshua, hooked her arm and steered him to the town’s newest celebrity.
“Joshua, this is our new commander from Albany, Colonel Ichabod Allerton,” boasted Bethany.
Joshua slanted a scathing look at Bethany. With certainty, her rudeness and displeasure were because he did not give attention to her daughters. He nodded to the colonel.
He’d known of Allerton from the earlier part of the war although he was sure, the colonel didn’t know him. An insignificant soldier, Allerton had risen through the ranks via the desperate requirement for roughly any kind of military leadership.
Bethany preened her layers of silk like an enormous pink crow. “We have felt defenseless, isolated, vulnerable…” she dipped her voice lower, “…even naked since the attacks to the south at Fort Fifty.”
Charles Powers came up beside them. His face turned a bright red, and he shot his wife, Bethany an anxious glance with her bold words.
Unfazed, Bethany continued, “When General Lafayette was here in May, he had strongly recommended a proper fort be built to replace the clumsy and flimsy fortification that had been thrown up near our home.”
Allerton peered down his nose like a benevolent King reviewing lower serfs. “I repaired at once with my regiment of two hundred and fifty men to Blackberry Valley. My purpose is to establish a strong military garrison. Mrs. Powers, you have been ever so pleasant since our arrival.”
“You will be able to protect us and our belongings?” trilled Bethany.
“Have no fear,” Allerton said as if he divined the secrets of the universe. “Your goods will not be plundered nor will your person be molested or damaged. My men will be on hand to protect you should the savages be foolish enough to threaten this valley. I must say I find it inconceivable Thayendanegea, Onontio and the British soldiers would ever consider attacking us. This isn’t a unit of green militia. These are regular soldiers of the Continental Army seasoned and accustomed to fighting.”
Allerton rocked up on his toes. “To prove my confidence in the strength of our position and unlikelihood of any sort of attack occurring, my men will arrange quarters for themselves within the stockade. My officers and I will take up lodging in the homes of the citizens. My lieutenant and I, for example, will lodge with Mr. and Mrs. Powers.”
“I had no idea. You would live here?” Mr. Powers choked out. “I assume there will be added protection for my home and family?”
Bethany waved an airy hand. “Of course, dear.”
“You think it wise not to be stationed at the fort?” said Joshua. He sensed Juliet come up beside him.
Allerton waved an uninterested hand in Joshua’s direction. “Who are you to question a colonel of the Continental Army?”
Joshua said nothing.
“Joshua is a trapper,” said Bethany in haughty tones.
Allerton’s lips pressed into a thin smile. “A trapper?”
A vein pulsed at the base of Joshua’s throat while Allerton’s gaze made a drawn-out trail from Juliet’s face down to her bodice. Hot blood shot through Joshua’s veins. How long would it take to scalp Allerton? Two seconds? Three seconds?
“There were many a raised brow in Albany and the assumption was the promotion you received came from connections,” said Joshua.
The colonel’s jaw clenched tighter than a whore’s fist over a coin. “You dare to question my qualifications?”
Joshua focused his gaze on Allerton. “I’m not questioning your qualifications. I’m refuting the existence or your abilities.”
“Perhaps you are a spy to create havoc and doubt,” snarled Allerton.
Joshua made a broad sweep of his arm. “The good people of Blackberry Valley should be aware that neither you nor your Massachusetts regulars have any experience in Indian warfare.”
Allerton smirked as if he understood so much more. “I have won recognition from my superiors as early as the siege of Boston.”
“The men underneath you deserved the credit. It was their creativity and bravery that saw the light of day. You took the glory.”
Allerton leaned in to assign a confidential tone, his hard blue eyes locked on Joshua. “I could have you arrested for insubordination, thrown in chains.”
Joshua stepped deliberately to within inches of Allerton. “You could try but it wouldn’t work out for you.”
The colonel’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he sputtered, “You risk making such a contention?”
“How dare you speak to Colonel Allerton in such a shameful manner.” Bethany sailed forward, mimicking the forward thrust of a fully rigged ship. “Perhaps you are a spy.”
“He is not.” Juliet’s voice dripped with her ire. “He is as dedicated a Patriot as everyone else in this room. How easy it is to speak your mind, Bethany, when there is no one to hear you but the wind.”
Joshua lifted an eyebrow. Juliet was quick; she had her answers ready.
Apparently, Bethany didn’t have any answers ready.
Bethany sputtered.
Finally, the woman spat out, looking at Juliet, “Possibly, you are a spy, too!”
The ladies in the room gasped.
“I refuse to have a battle of wits with an unarmed opponent,” Juliet said.
Joshua held back a smile. His Juliet didn’t just bite, she took a chunk out of Bethany, and the fool woman strolled away smiling like an idiot, believing she’d been complimented.
The colonel took the liberty of eyeing Juliet’s charms again.
A vein pulsed in Joshua’s throat. “There are many invited guests…so you see, prudence suggests that we make amends, toughen our indulgent sympathies to recommend what is best for the town’s defenses.”
“I see.” Allerton’s gaze bored holes into Joshua. “What does a frontiersman know of engineering a fort’s defenses and tactical military maneuvers?”
“What improvements have you decided upon?” asked Joshua. “Other than comfortable housing for yourself and your officers, there doesn’t seem to be much thought given to anything else. Allow me to suggest—”
“You may suggest nothing. I find you tiresome.”
�
��Then I’ll be more tolerant,” Joshua said as if instructing a child, “Your securing the fort is paramount. The stockade perimeter is strong enough but it is far from finished inside and though there are two small cannon, there are no raised embrasures through which to fire at the enemy, rendering them useless. There are three hundred civilian residents in the town, but they are ill-prepared to defend themselves and are dependent upon the military for that service. More reinforcements must to be requested.”
Despite the visible tension in Allerton’s shoulders, he said, “There is much vigor in what you say. The town of Blackberry Valley and its residents can be rest assured my men and I will look into the matter and make necessary reinforcements.”
He turned his back to Joshua. “The backwoodsman dared to tell me what to do. He is an imbecile.”
Joshua lurched toward the colonel, but Crims and Juliet held him back, but they couldn’t stop his words. “Beware of the consequences if you don’t heed my warnings, Allerton.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Fall arrayed in robes of burnt umber, scarlet and yellow, and lent a blended rhythm of days where Juliet prayed for Joshua’s return. Up came the golden sun, burning a slow fog off the land. She passed a cider press, veiled beneath the eaves of a shed, and past the beehives. With a basket brimming of hickory and black walnuts, Juliet paused with her morning chores to watch the children take turns swinging on an ancient grapevine.
Heat flew to her cheeks as she remembered the last days before Joshua’s departure when they had made endless love, her body responding to his every touch.
She was stronger, wiser, more knowledgeable now. She’d met danger, fear, and pleasure beyond her imaginings, had done things she’d never dreamed she could do. She’d seen violence to freeze the marrow, had appreciated forests so limitless that they absorbed the soul, had glimpsed infinity in a star-filled night. But more than that, she now knew what it was to love and be loved.
The Bells’ two giant russet-colored Percherons, Lancelot and Guinevere, pawed the ground in the dusty paddock, begging for an apple. Juliet produced two from her pocket, the mammoth equines distending their nostrils, inhaling the freshness of the fruit before scooping it between their teeth. Satisfied, they rested their necks on each other. Suzanne, the eight-year-old, stayed behind and doted on them as if they were royalty from a faraway land.
Georgie followed yapping at their heels, then would run off to chase an errant squirrel. Juliet kicked through the fallen leaves, sauntered into the house, her skirt hems skimming her shoetops and swirling round her ankles. She deposited the baskets of nuts on the kitchen floor to later crack, and hung her shawl on a peg. The aroma of a rich beef stew tantalized her senses. The three wheaten loaves she had helped knead earlier in the morning, a crock of honey, fragrant with wildflowers, fresh creamy butter and cheese brought in from the cold cellar…on the gleaming kitchen table.
With James’ departure to Albany, Juliet had picked up the slack in chores. Caroline, her constant tutor, taught her more on running a farm. The children, animals, fields, orchards provided a place of magic, a dwelling separate from the rest of the world, and so enthralling that her heart caught. Juliet claimed it, and knew, deep down with hard work and initiative, she could manage Joshua’s farm. He had told her it was a small log cabin and not so grand as the Bell home or anywhere near the Faulkner estate, her ancestral home in England. But with love and resourcefulness they could make it work and it would be home.
Juliet stood over little Elias sleeping in a cradle. Her hand pressed to her breast, clinging to the hope of someday having her own child. She couldn’t help herself. She wanted that. She’d be a good mother.
They would be a family and the notion filled her with joy because, other than Moira, it meant for the first time in her life, she’d be a part of something wonderful. It meant she would love and be loved for the rest of her life no matter what. Would her dreams include a daughter and granddaughter as Waneek and Ojistah had predicted?
But what if Joshua never returned? What if he met up with a redcoat aware of his spying activities? What if he encountered Snapes? Two Eagles had stayed with his new bride, leaving Joshua to travel alone. What if he were injured and laying in the cold forests with no one to help him? The grim reality slammed into her full force. It wasn’t the first time, and like the last, she forced down her negative thoughts and peeked out the window where red apples bobbed in the wide orchards and the children played hide-and-seek, falling to the earth in ear-splitting giggles.
Betsy spun flax for the loom, the whir of the spinning wheel made a gentle, pleasant hum in harmony with the clap of the loom where Caroline thrust the shuttle cock through. The woman’s deft hands, wove a myriad of warp and weft threads into impressive fabric.
“We had sun on the Saint Eulalie’s Feast Day promising plenty of apples and cider,” said Caroline, over her shoulder. She pushed a fist in her back to ease the strain of her advanced pregnancy.
“Are you having contractions?” Juliet asked. Caroline had dropped and was due any day.
“I’m fine.” She gazed at the great armchair where her husband idled when he was home. Charity read to Mary and Robin in his chair. “They miss their father.”
Juliet was sure Caroline missed him the most.
“You and Joshua should get married,” said Caroline. “The way you two look at each other and carry on…”
“We are married.”
“Thought so,” said Caroline, her feet clapping the foot pedals. “Made a bet with James, and it looks like I won.” She smiled wide.
Hard thumping on the porch tore them from their conversation. Caroline crossed the kitchen, spied out the window, picked up a rifle and opened the door. A heavily-bearded, lean buckskinned man stood in the entry.
Crims hobbled up behind him, breathing hard. “He’s my friend, Moses Bent and you better listen to what he has to say, Caroline.”
Caroline nodded and gestured them to the table. Juliet scooped up plates of steaming stew and served the men.
Moses shoveled potatoes in his mouth, dripping gravy on the table and talked between mouthfuls. “Bad things happening all over. News of the build-up of Tory and Indian forces on the upper Susquehanna, especially at Unadilla and Onipua. They’re also preparing to move against the outlying settlements. Blackberry Valley is a prime target. Despite what Colonel Allerton has done to reinforce your fort,” he spat, “you are weakly defended. I would leave if I were you.”
“My husband has gone to Albany to appeal to Brigadier General Edward Hand, begging for additional troops to protect us.”
Moses pointed a hunk of cheese at her. “Thayendanegea is hot for destroying any Patriots. He holds all of ’em responsible for destroying Tionnontigo and Onaguaga, his villages. He will be swift and merciless and his numbers are growing.”
Tionnontigo had been destroyed? Juliet hoped Ojistah’s second sight warned her away before the attack. She cared for the old woman.
Caroline set a platter of warm rolls on the table, shooing away the children so the men could eat without being interrupted. “Brigadier General Hand said we would be well-protected by the garrison at Fort Stephens under Colonel Elijah Cummings. They are thirteen miles distant and could come quickly if trouble loomed.”
The frontiersman blew a whistle between his two front missing teeth. “The logic is the same as setting your hair on fire and putting it out with a hammer. Ain’t going to happen.”
“What am I to do? The snows will soon be upon us. My husband is gone. I am a lone woman with eight children. Where would we go?”
“I would take my chances and leave if I were you.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
In her dreams, Onontio came at her, his scalp plucked bald save for the stiff brush atop his head and his black eyes gleaming in murderous rage through his hideous war paint. He sneered at the sword she pointed at him, knocking it from her hand, before she could lift it to swing. He grabbed her arm, spun her around an
d pinned her back against his chest as, with his other hand, he drew his razor-sharp blade from left to right across her throat. He released her and she crumpled, the light of life fading from her eyes.
The next day, Juliet tugged her shawl tighter around her, unable to dispel the recurring nightmare. She and Caroline had stayed up late the night before debating what to do with Moses Bent’s dire warnings.
Juliet strode with as long a step as her dress and petticoats would allow. Caroline kept in step beside her, their skirts swishing in unison across the frozen ground as they made their way to the Powers’ home. The town, stood cheerless now that the freezing moon had come and the ground was frozen hard as a rock. The trees in the forest dropped the rest of their leaves with the sudden frost overnight.
How quickly the season had changed. Now the bare tree branches stood out starkly, silhouetted against dark evergreen pines and hemlocks. In the fields surrounding the Bells’ house, dried-up cornstalks clattered like skeleton bones in the wind. Though it was not snowing, the early morning wind was kicking up snow crystals from the ground and they rattled cheerlessly against the glass panes of the homes they passed. Anger burned, blazing-hot, rendering her immune to the cold.
Where was Joshua? Her heart sank with still no news from him. She prayed he was safe.
She clenched and unclenched her hands, recalling the terrible events befalling the frontier over the recent months. Shocking news had come of the fall of Fort Benkins and Fort Halsey. Men cut to pieces in the most shocking manner. Men had holes from spears in their sides, their arms cut to pieces, tomahawked, scalped, and their throats cut. Two hundred and twenty-seven scalps had been taken, a handsome incentive of ten pounds for every scalp paid by the British. A few lucky women, now widowed, had escaped, and suffered terrible privations, fleeing through the unforgiving wilderness with their children.
By mid-September Caughmawaga destroyed the German Flats. Sixty-three homes and fifty-seven barns were burned to the ground. Grain and fodder, over a thousand horses, cattle, sheep and hogs were taken. Three people were killed. Too close.
Lord of the Wilderness Page 26
