Part 24 (2/2)

Standing, she rushed out of the tent to see Sergeant McDougal slowly walking toward her.

”That is you, my lady.” He bowed before he continued walking.

She halfway curtsied, but mainly threw herself at him, hugging him. He was dirty and smelled of gunpowder and wasn't at all prepared for her embrace. But he laughed as he caught her.

”Happy to see me?”

”Where is he?” She huffed.

”Ah, I knew it too good to be true.”

She tried to laugh, trying even harder to find patience and not throttle him for not immediately telling her where Will was.

Sergeant McDougal squeezed her arms. ”He's fine, my lady. He's still at Kip's Bay, securing the area.”

She let out a huge waft of pent up air, she didn't even know she'd been holding. Then she finally did laugh, as a tear rolled down one of her cheeks. ”He's fine,” she repeated.

Sergeant McDougal gave her another squeeze. ”I've heard of your upcoming marriage, and may I wish ye congratulations, my lady.” He leaned close, and whispered into her ear. ”I'm glad he's retiring, for although he was a good officer and soldier today, he needs to be with ye, ifnye don't mind my opinion on that.”

Another tear escaped her eye and she shook her head, smiling at the sergeant when he leaned further away. ”I don't mind at all.”

He stood tall, smiling down at her, but then tilted his rusty-colored head to the side. ”Would ye like to go to him?”

She almost crumbled to the sandy ground in relief. All she could do was nod enthusiastically.

”I'm sure I can get ye across to see him. The Continentals all ran with their tails tucked between their legs.”

Erva didn't like the reference the Scot had made, but she knew at the Battle of Kip's Bay the American Army had not been at their best. It would take almost two years before they were finally ready to battle the British toe-to-toe, and by then they had French, well-trained reinforcements to help.

She said a farewell to Friederike, whom she promised she would see again soon. Erva hated lying to the woman, but she was so lonely Erva was scared if she related that Will was retiring she'd try to talk him out of it. In Friederike's diary she often wrote of her loneliness, but she was glad to be with her husband, and her husband was that much a better officer with her beside him.

It seemed to take an eternity to get a long boat to ferry her across the dinge-colored Hudson. Sergeant McDougal escorted her with about twenty other redcoat soldiers, all staring at her. She was the only woman going across, but she didn't care.

By then the Royal Navy had stopped their bombing, and there wasn't a musket shot heard. But looming in the air was the tenseness of war. It crackled and snapped against Erva's skin, making her want to be with Will all the more. He would calm her. But that wasn't why she wanted to be close to him. Although she knew the outcome of today's battle, she was scared out of her mind about his welfare.

Finally, on the sandy sh.o.r.e of Kip's Bay, Sergeant McDougal extended his arm for her, and she thought it a bit silly to parade around the beach as if they were taking a Sunday turn. She swallowed, realizing she'd used even more eighteenth-century jargon. It was rea.s.suring. There had been a few nagging thoughts of things she might miss from her time, but the fact that Will's idioms were coming so easily seemed like a good sign. This was where she was meant to be.

Sergeant McDougal asked where Will was, and they went into a small village with tiny white washed taverns and even smaller houses built close to each other. The late afternoon's sun pelted out its punishment with too bright and hot beams, making everything seem too vivid. Row upon row of young redcoated soldiers gaped at her as she walked past them. Some ogled, some smiled. One fell on his knees and begged her to marry him as his friends laughed and pushed him over. Sergeant McDougal yelled at them, using some strong language that he apologized for after.

Then, over a small hill where a round brick well usurped most of the road, she finally saw him, Will. He sat on a black horse, smiling down at a man who was talking and pointing to the north. Will nodded but pointed in her direction. That was when he saw her. His smile vanished instantly. She didn't care, but began to run to him.

He lifted his back leg and sprang from the saddle in a rather unorthodox way, but he did it with ease and, well, he looked rather s.e.xy jumping from the horse like that. He jogged toward her, and all she could see was him. His face slowly began to spread into a small smile, but suddenly the grin froze. His eyes widened, and he reached for his pistol.

Alarmed, Erva kept loping toward him, never seeing that she ran straight into the arms of a filthy man, dressed in a royal blue coat and taupe breeches. He caught her with such force, that for a moment she couldn't breathe and couldn't understand why he'd embraced her the way he had, with his front to her back, holding her very still. That was when she realized he held a knife to her throat.

”Don't,” the man holding her said to Will.

Will skidded to a stop, his hand still on his pistol at his hip.

”I'm goin' to kill ye,” Sergeant McDougal growled.

Erva wasn't too sure if he was threatening her for running off on her own, or the man at her back.

Taking one last look at Will's panicked face, she saw how tormented he was, one of his arms outstretched toward her, as if that could stop the man who threatened her. It was Will's face that gave her the calm she had needed all day. The training came back to her within a blink of the eye. She remembered her drill sergeant holding her exactly like this, but with a rubber knife.

”I-I'm takin' the la.s.s with me as insurance for my life. I'll give her back when I reach my camp. I promise,” the man behind her said.

”The h.e.l.l you will,” Sergeant McDougal yelled.

”Take me instead,” Will said coolly. ”I'm a general. You know my imprisonment could afford to have many soldiers we captured today set free, if not all of them. Take me.”

The sweet gesture almost made Erva lose her concentration, but she wouldn't let it. Not at a time like this. The man behind her though was considering Will's deal. He loosened his grip around her neck, and she gained the distance she needed, pus.h.i.+ng her head farther away from her abductor's, simultaneously readying one of her hands for the knife. In a split second she flung her head back as hard as she could, feeling the man's nose snap against her. Her vision blurred from the pain, but she caught the hand that held the knife and twisted it downward and away while she stomped on his instep. He instantly gave way with a grunt and began to topple behind her. Easily enough she had his knife, and twirled around as the Continental soldier fell back, holding his nose.

She was trying to think of a retort to yell at the man for ruining what could have been such a romantic moment, when she felt Will capture her and lift her in his arms. He sidestepped quickly away from the Continental soldier on the ground whom Sergeant McDougal had just pounced on.

”I'm sorry,” she whispered, releasing the knife to the cobblestone road where it seemed to clatter too loudly.

Will's lips punished hers. ”My darling.” He kissed her again, a bit longer. ”My darling, my beautiful Minerva, G.o.ddess of wisdom and war. I should have known you could have done that. Oh, my darling.”

Erva heard something snap and although she wanted to bask in Will's words, his hard kisses, she tore away and stared at Sergeant McDougal as he forced the man who had tried to kidnap her to stand. Eventually he did, but he held one of his arms as blood gushed down his nose.

”I'll...talk to that man later,” Will said in a voice Erva didn't recognize, sounding like metal sc.r.a.ping against metal. The way he'd emphasized the word talk made her think he actually would have nothing to say.

”Aye, sir,” Sergeant McDougal said, as he gruffly pulled the Continental along by his collar.

”Will,” Erva whispered. When Will finally did meet her gaze, she saw how dark his eyes had changed. They looked black blue, and so fierce. She'd gotten to know Will as a man, but until that moment she'd never met the soldier in him. Granted, his tactics seemed calculated and intelligent, like him, but a part of a soldier knows how to kill, and is so unlike any other part of a man-or a woman, as Erva well knew. That part of a soldier is uncivilized, ferocious, and unapologetic for it, and always has to content with the other portions composing the soldier that are apologetic, rational, and loving.

She caressed Will's whiskered cheek, liking how he'd apparently not shaved this morning, but also trying to coax him back to her. His nostrils flared.

”Please,” she whispered.

Will had been holding his breath, but against her ribs, she felt him inhale. His jaw line twitched over and over again. Finally, he slid his gaze back to Sergeant McDougal.

”I will talk to the man tomorrow.”

The sergeant nodded and said over his shoulder, ”Aye, sir.”

Then she was alone with Will, holding her so close that she was sure his hands were leaving bruises. But she didn't say anything about her discomfort. She caressed his cheek again.

”I'm sorry.”

He met her gaze. The initial relief of being free from her abductor was gone, replaced by worry for the man who held black-blue eyes and looked at her with every plain in his face tense.

”I'm sorry,” she repeated.

He swallowed and held her even closer. ”I don't think I've ever been more scared in my life.”

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