The Tory's Daughter, page 15
The colonel paused along with some of his officers, but waved the rest of the troop past, ordering them to continue on to the fort. “Who are you?”
“Joseph Garnet. I’m from farther up river, but met you briefly at Fort Schuyler several years back.”
“And what is it you want? My men and I are weary so please be brief.”
“Of course, sir. I am looking for two family members who joined the army almost six years ago.”
“And they still serve?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out, sir. Their names are Myles and Samuel Cunningham. The first would be in his early twenties and the younger, not more than seventeen.”
Willard’s eyes widened. “How long ago did they begin their service, did you say?”
“A little less than six years ago.”
One of the other officers, a lieutenant, cleared his throat. “I think I might know something of the boys you seek. They didn’t come to us voluntarily, though, did they?”
Joseph shook his head, not sure whether to be relieved for some news, or fear that he might be running out of time with Hannah. “No, they didn’t.”
The lieutenant smiled, but his lips were barely visible. “Their father was a Tory, I believe?”
“Yes, he was.” Joseph could sense the demeanor of the men around him change.
“And how are they your relations?” Colonel Willett questioned.
“I recently married their sister.” He held up a hand. “But no, I have little in common with her Pa.”
The lieutenant nodded. He glanced at his commanding officer and the others who remained. “They were among a group of boys sent from Tory homes after their fathers left to fight for the British. We were supposed to make soldiers out of the willing ones, and put the rest to work with fortifications.” He looked back at Joseph. “I remember the Cunninghams, because they were put under my command. I was a sergeant at the time, and the eldest did nothing but give me trouble.”
Joseph’s mouth went dry. Why couldn’t Myles have swallowed his pride and done what was asked of him? Joseph didn’t want to ask his next question. “What happened to them?”
“The younger one worked fine. He was a good lad. After a while they transferred him to a unit to fetch and carry for one of the generals. Farther east. We wouldn’t have those records here.”
“And the elder?” Joseph couldn’t quite work up enough moisture for a swallow.
The lieutenant’s jaw tightened, and he glanced down. “He’s dead.”
Acker had told the truth. Joseph couldn’t manage any sense of surprise, but he still felt as though someone had booted him in the stomach. Poor Hannah. “Executed for desertion?”
“That’s right. We had him hauling logs at Fort Dayton. One night he slipped away. I went after him myself.”
“And killed him yourself?”
A single nod. “I brought him back, and that was the order given. I did my duty.”
It was Joseph’s turn to nod, but he still couldn’t swallow the bitter taste rising at the back of his throat. “I understand. Thank you for the information.”
Joseph took his leave and followed the army across the river. They headed into the fort, while he veered toward the tent and the young woman standing at the door, hands working feverishly to bind her braid to the back of her head.
“Joseph, they’re back. We can go and ask them what they know.” Her excitement made his stomach coil. It was left for him to confirm the fears she had no doubt battled since Acker’s pronouncement concerning Myles. He didn’t know how to do it—didn’t know how to break her heart.
“Please don’t tell me we should wait, Joseph. Who knows what might take them away again. Or when.”
“We don’t have to wait.” He swung from the saddle and dropped to the ground, but his knees barely held him.
Hannah hurried to his side and took Hunter’s reins. “Then—”
“I already spoke with them.” He faced her. Sweat moistened his hairline.
“You did?” She wet her lips, her eyes lighting. “What did they say? Do they have records they can check? Does anyone remember—?”
“Yes. Someone remembered,” he swallowed, “your brothers.”
The mix of hope and dread in her eyes speared him through. How could he do this to her? How could he deal her another blow with so little hope to cling to? Maybe if they had found Samuel alive and well, she would be able to cope with Myles’s loss. But he couldn’t even give her that much.
Pain bit his arm through his sleeve as her fingernails dug in. “Tell me everything that was said?” She probably had no idea how tightly she gripped him.
“Um, one of the officers said your brothers…had been sent farther east.” The plural of brothers jabbed his conscience, but he had to protect her from this. Just until they found Samuel.
Oh, Lord, please let him still be alive.
Joseph motioned to the tent to distract her from his face. “I don’t think we should wait any longer. Why don’t we pack up now and see how far we can go before sunset.”
She stared. “That’s it? They’re not here, keep looking?” Her eyes glistened and her chin quivered. “They don’t even know what regiment, or what city, or anything?”
“It was a long time ago and back at Fort Dayton by the sounds of it. But we’ll keep looking.” He braced her shoulders, and she slumped against his chest. The secrets he kept weighted his arms as he slipped them around her and held her. He wanted to protect her, but the task was impossible. “We’ll keep looking. I promise you I will find him…them. I’ll find your brothers.” Only one’s fate remained unknown.
23
Joseph lifted Hannah down from the saddle, and then fastened the reins to the hitching post outside a two-story inn. Civilization. At least more than Joseph had seen since his family traveled west eight years earlier. Despite the war, Albany had grown into a fair sized city.
Wide-eyed, Hannah stared across the busy street at the brick and stone buildings towering over any cabin or long house she’d probably ever lived in. Had she ever seen a city this big? He set his hand to the small of her back and guided her toward the door of the Huntsman Inn. Best to have a meal and a few hours of repose before they resumed their search.
Being mid-afternoon, most of the tables on the main floor of the inn sat empty. He directed Hannah to one and nodded for her to sit. “You rest while I see about a room.”
She made no reply, but he hadn’t expected one. The closer they had come to Albany, the less she’d spoken. But then, the journey that should have taken them no more than two days, had stretched itself across a little more than a week. They stopped at every outpost between Fort Rensselaer and Albany, not wanting to miss any clue to her brothers’ whereabouts—Samuel’s whereabouts.
“What can I do for you, sir?” a lean man asked as he approached, his hands wiping across his apron.
“You’re the innkeeper?”
“I am. Nickolas Barstow at your service.” The corners of his eyes expanded with a fan of creases as he smiled. “Is it a meal you desire, or lodging?”
“Both.” Joseph glanced back at Hannah who sat at the table, hands clasped. “For myself and my wife. And I have a horse in need of feed and stabling.”
“Of course.”
Joseph worked his pouch open and fished for the last of his coins. “Will this be enough?”
Mr. Barstow rolled the coins over in his palm. “For one night and…I suppose I can give you two meals for it. But nothing more. No ale.”
He didn’t need any. But they would need more than one night’s lodging. Hannah was already worn thin from days of travel, waiting, and nights under the stars. The nights and days had warmed now that June was well upon them, but he wanted to give her a comfortable bed for as long as he could manage it. He emptied the pouch into his palm.
“What is this worth?” Joseph held Pa’s pocket watch up by the chain for the man to see. “It’s high quality gold.” Given to Pa by Grandfather Garnet before he’d died back in Boston. The year before they’d headed west.
“May I see it?”
Joseph handed him the piece, not letting himself think about the sacrifice. Or that he should pass it to little James when he was grown. It was just an object. Not worth risking Hannah’s health.
“This is a fine piece. Very fine. It’s been in your family for some time?” He sighed. “How long are you looking to stay?”
“Hopefully only a few days.” Long enough to uncover Samuel’s path.
The man took a moment to look Joseph over, and then glanced at Hannah. “You two have come a far ways, haven’t you?”
They did appear quite trail-worn. “From up the Mohawk Valley a ways.”
“Aye, we’ve seen quite a few come through from thereabout with all the Indian raids.”
Joseph recognized the assumption and bristled at it. “Except we have no plans to abandon our land. We won’t be staying away long.”
Barstow nodded toward Hannah. “Your bride has a look about her. She’s got some Iroquois in her, don’t she?”
Joseph stiffened. “Would you prefer we take our business elsewhere?”
“‘Course not.” He popped the watch open and then closed it again. “You are welcome as long as needed and when you leave, I shall give you whatever is left owing for the timepiece. If you wish, you can ask around to make sure I give you a fair price.”
“I could trade it elsewhere, and bring you the funds if you prefer.”
“No.” He tapped the cover of the watch and handed it back to Joseph. Along with the coins. “War is not a good time to gather pounds. But gold—and a fine crafted piece such as this—its worth will not be diminished, no matter who the final battle falls to.”
Joseph slipped the heirloom back into his pouch and returned to the table and two watchful eyes. Hannah didn’t have to say anything for him to know her questions.
“We’ll stay here as long as we need. I thought perhaps we could wait until morning before—”
“I don’t want to wait.” Her defiant tone made him want to smile. She’d been far too withdrawn and contained the last while.
He feigned a frown. “Are you sure? I could use a good night’s sleep before we go interrogating every army official in the city.”
“Then you can rest, and I’ll go myself.”
“I don’t know if I trust you not to ride off and leave me here.”
“You can’t.” Some of the sparkle returned to her eyes, and she pushed to her feet.
Joseph grabbed her hand. “Don’t you think we should at least wait until we’ve eaten something first?”
“Oh.” The chair squeaked as she dropped back into her seat. “I suppose we should.” She tipped her shoulder toward her ear. “For your sake.”
He grinned. “Thank you.” Then he looked at her hand, still in his. He didn’t want to let go. But a woman, probably Barstow’s wife, approached with two steaming bowls and a round loaf of bread on a tray. He released Hannah and lowered into the nearest chair.
“Stew’s heavy from warming most the day, but it’ll fill you.”
They thanked her and ate their meal. Joseph watched Hannah’s hands. He still wished he hadn’t needed to let go. “I’m glad you are feeling better.”
“Feeling better?”
“You haven’t been yourself.” For a while now. Ever since she’d bolted away on Hunter, pelting him with mud. He’d missed the sparks she usually sent flying when she’d talked to him.
“I suppose I’ve merely been…anxious. About finding my brothers.” But something in her tone suggested she hid another reason for her mood. She gave a brief smile. “But now we’re here. Farther than I probably would have made it on my own. And so much closer to answers. Thank you.”
Her praise warmed him more than the stew on a hot June day. “I just hope we find…them.” And hoped he found the words to tell her about Myles when the time came.
She looked at him with a strange but studious expression. “I really mean it, Joseph. Thank you. I’ve misjudged you so many times. But everything you’ve sacrificed to help me.” Her gaze fell to the pouch tied to his belt. “I don’t know how to ever repay you.”
“You don’t have to. I made a promise.” A promise to protect her and to cherish her as her husband. A promise made before God and man.
“And yet, I don’t even have the means to replace the window I broke.” She stared into her stew and started eating again.
Joseph lost all interest in satisfying his stomach. I made a promise. And because of it, Hannah was his responsibility. He’d taken that upon himself and no one else was capable of removing it from him. Her father was dead as was her older brother. The younger, if alive by some miracle, was still a lad and would not have the means of caring for his sister. Joseph had no choice but to forget about Oriskany and give himself to her fully.
The weight of his dilemma lifted from his shoulders, offering liberty. And relief.
This wasn’t just for his own good, to protect himself. It was what was required to keep her safe and see that she had everything she needed. A home. Family. And a husband who loved her.
~*~
Hannah hugged herself and fought the surge of hopelessness and frustration. They’d located army headquarters, but found no one there with access to the records. They were told to return tomorrow—an eternity from now.
Joseph’s arm brushed hers and she glanced at him. He walked alongside her, leading Hunter. What was he doing here with her? She’d taken him from home for too long. His poor children probably wondered if they would ever see him again. And his farm. How would Andrew and Rachel manage everything? How could Joseph walk along as though her concerns were the only ones that mattered to him?
He stopped so abruptly, she stepped past and had to turn around to see him staring in the window of a milliners shop—according to the sign. He hefted his pouch. “Let’s step in here for a moment.”
Hannah had no idea what a milliner even was, so she simply followed. Displays of ribbon, thread and beautiful fabrics greeted them with too much cheer. She trailed Joseph toward the back, puzzled. What use had they of any of this?
Joseph continued to the woman who hovered over an older lady, assisting to add ornaments to a hat. “Do you have any gowns already made?”
The woman turned and frowned at Joseph. Her gaze narrowed with distaste. “That depends who the gown is for. Her measurements.”
He stepped aside, removing Hannah’s shield. Both ladies cringed. Heat rushed to Hannah’s face, but she couldn’t blame them for their horror. Compared with the fine gowns they wore, hers was nothing more than a rag, and a tattered one at that. The blackberry briers had shredded the hem, and miles of muddy roads coated the skirt with shades of brown and grey.
“Um, I might have something one of my regular patrons was not satisfied with.” The woman excused herself and slipped through an open doorway at the back of the room. In moments she returned, folds of dark green draped over her arms. Not the loveliest color, but the material felt sturdy and the dark shade would wear well for travel and farm work.
Joseph took the gown and held it up to Hannah. “What do you think?”
The size appeared about right, though the hem would need to be brought up. Crisscrossed ties at the bodice would make up for any discrepancy in the waistline. But what more would this cost Joseph? “Are you sure?”
“That one you’re wearing was already threadbare before we left. It won’t hold up to much more use.”
Hannah had no argument, so she nodded. “Whatever you feel best.”
She joined Hunter outside while Joseph finished his purchases.
When they returned to the inn, Joseph handed her the parcel. “I requested before we left that water be sent up to our room so you can bathe.” He scratched his hand across the back of his neck as he half-smiled. “I’ll take my time with Hunter.”
For the second time she had no argument for him and simply nodded before slipping away. Perhaps her attempts at being more like Fannie were beginning to take hold, despite her earlier failings.
Upstairs, a large tub—not large enough to immerse herself in, but big enough to clean herself properly—waited half full. One pot of boiling water added to the top made the water a wonderful lukewarm. Hannah washed quickly, but made sure her hair was rinsed well before brushing it out. She’d let her tresses hang loose so they could start to dry before she braided them. She put on the shift wrapped with the gown and washed her old undergarments. She was cinching the ties of the bodice when a tapping came at the door.
“Hannah?” Joseph’s voice.
Her pulse raced as though she were again sprinting away on Hunter. “Come in.”
Joseph surveyed the room as he entered and dropped the cocked hat to the bed. His studious gaze settled on her. “Did you find everything you need?”
“Yes.” Thank you. The last two words didn’t quite make it past her lips.
Joseph had not been idle. He appeared bathed as well, and two weeks’ worth of whiskers had been scraped from his face leaving the angles of his jaw smooth. But nothing held her in place as firmly as the intensity in his eyes, their complete focus on her.
He took a step nearer. “They’ve started serving dinner. If we want anything, we should go down.”
“I am quite famished.” In truth, her appetite had fled at the sight of him. Her stomach felt suddenly unsteady, and her fingers fumbled with the ends of her bodice ties in an attempt to form a bow.
Joseph took another step, and her lungs tightened around the breath she’d just taken.
“There’s something I’ve wanted to speak to you of,” he said.
“What is that?” Her voice rang a pitch higher than it should.
His blue eyes smiled along with his mouth. “Promises made.”
Hannah’s breath hitched as Joseph’s fingers slid up her arm to her elbow, and then higher still, across her shoulder. What promises did he speak of? The ones he had made? Or hers?
To be his wife.
Warmth caressed her jaw, his mouth making a crusade of its own. To her ear. How was this possible? That he wanted her? Dared she hope that was what this meant? She didn’t move least he change his mind.
