A British Governess in America

by Becky Lower

  Patterson glanced over his rifle at his commanding officer. “Are you giving me an order, sir?”

  The Colonel glanced at the British, who had broken through and were overrunning the fort. “Yes, I am. Drop your rifle and go now, before you’re killed or taken prisoner. Save your family, if you can.”

  Patterson did as he was told.

  He ran for the secret tunnel, which led out of the fort. Hopefully, the British wouldn’t find the hidden passage until he was clear of it. He’d never run from a battle before, and now, the tunnel was so narrow, in order to run forward, he had to put the battle behind him. Never had he been so powerless. Never had he been more frightened. He hoped Adam had gotten to Eleanor and the children before the British set fire to their home, and he’d led them to safety. The tunnel was filling with smoke, and Patterson steeled himself for what he might find at the end of it. Either he’d be met by the British forces, or he’d emerge into a blazing inferno. Neither choice was good, and he was without a rifle.

  • ♥ •

  Patterson removed the steel plate at the end of the tunnel and lifted it several inches. He peered out at the surrounding woods but could see nothing other than a smoky haze. He popped the lid off completely and stealthily raised himself out of the hole in the ground. He sat for a moment, and listened to the cries coming from the town, to the roar of the flames combined with volleys of gunshot. The air was filled with smoke and the scent of burning wood permeated his surroundings. Would the entire forest, as well as the town, burn to the ground at the hands of the British? Perhaps his family would not be safe even in the remote hunting cabin.

  Patterson’s heart pounded harder than it ever had on the battlefield, even when he had been pinned to the ground by a bayonet. On the battlefield, it was only himself he needed to worry about. But the British had taken it too far this time. Again. He had thought, when he left Boston, his family would be safe from the war. But the war had followed him to Groton. His town, and his family, were affected, had been torn asunder. Where was his family? Where was Eleanor? He’d never been so helpless before, or so frightened.

  He replaced the steel plate back on the tunnel exit. Hopefully, even if the British overran the fort, they wouldn’t find the tunnel. He hoped he wasn’t the only one who could escape by it. He raked the dislodged dirt and weeds back over the lid before he finally stood. Dusk was encroaching, he had no weapon and miles to run through the forest to get to the cabin. With no guarantee his family would be waiting for him. He bent over, taking a gasping breath, and coughed as the smoke-filled air clogged his lungs.

  Finally getting his bearings, he began a slow trot through the woods. It would be daylight before he arrived at the cabin, but in the darkness, he could not run all out. He’d seen Hawk run through the woods at full tilt while loading a rifle, but he wasn’t nearly so sure-footed as his Native American friend. It was better to proceed slowly and cautiously. If he fell and broke his leg, there would be no help coming. The scar from his bayonet wound howled in pain as he marched forward, and his limp, which he had almost successfully rid himself of, became more pronounced with each step over the rocky terrain. If he didn’t encounter any bears, wolves, or coyotes, and if he didn’t break any bones, he might get to the cabin by dawn.

  He picked up a tree branch that was about two inches in diameter. He’d use it as a walking stick and be better able to maintain his balance. If he encountered an adversary, animal or human, he’d at least have something with which to defend himself.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  E leanor hadn’t needed Adam to run home from the fort to be aware something was afoot. The hair on the back of her neck had done that for her. She packed some food and had loaded the rifle when an out-of-breath Adam dashed in.

  “We have to get out of here. The British are setting fire to the entire area.”

  “I smelled the smoke this morning, but it came from across the bay.” Eleanor stated. “Are you certain they’re setting fire here?”

  Adam grabbed clothing and more food, packing it into sacks for each of the children to take. “They were going to attack the fort and set fire to it. The colonel got a bit of advance warning, which gave me time to escape. I’m not sure what’s happened to the rest. To Papa. But he told me we should head to the hunting cabin and wait for him there. We should be safe in the woods. The streets are already full of people running for their lives.”

  Eleanor attempted to control the panic threatening to overtake her. To render her useless. Her voice quaked as much as her body did. “We’ll go out the back door, then.”

  Adam took the bag of food and shouldered the rifle while Eleanor hoisted Elizabeth and put an arm around the boys, who each carried a bag of clothing. “Let’s go.”

  She allowed herself a backwards glance at the house she had come to refer to as her home. Smoke filled the air, and she could see flames coming from the home to the right of hers. Stifling a sob, she hurried her charges into the alley.

  Adam stopped at the carriage house. “I can’t let the horse die in there. Blaze at least deserves a fighting chance.” He thrust the bundle of food into Ben’s hands, handed the rifle to Eleanor, and dashed into the small building before Eleanor could raise her voice.

  She waited in the alley with the rest of the children and held her breath. Already, flames were attacking the thatched roof of the carriage house, as sparks flew all around them. “Hurry, Adam, please,” she murmured.

  After an interminable wait, Adam finally reappeared, with a frightened horse. He had covered the horse’s eyes with a piece of burlap, but the horse shook in fear, nonetheless. Eleanor ran to them. “We need to get out of here, now! The fire is all around us.”

  Adam nodded, scooped up Daniel and Elizabeth and placed the two young children on the horse’s back. He removed the burlap and led the horse slowly down the alley. Eleanor, Ben and Caleb followed along behind. She kept one hand on either boy’s shoulder, keeping them close. Already, the town she had come to love was rendered unrecognizable. Flames and frightened people milled around them, making escape difficult. Eleanor bit back her fear, hoping they’d escape before they’d all burn up along with the houses. The alley was narrow, with fire on either side, and people clogging the way out. Their pace was excruciatingly slow.

  Eleanor could feel the two boys’ tremors as she held onto them. She could taste the fear all around them when she took a breath. Screams and cries drowned out her words of encouragement as the boys’ footsteps faltered. She had to do something, or they would surely all perish.

  “Yankee Doodle came to town,” She sang in a strong melodious voice. Ben and Caleb glanced up at her and she noticed a bit of a grin forming on both their faces.

  “Riding on a pony,” they sang the next line. Adam glanced back at them and nodded his approval. They sang the song all the way through half-a-dozen times before they managed to get to the footpath leading to the hunting cabin.

  They kept up their march until they were deep in the forest. Adam finally stopped the horse, and they all took a few minutes to catch their breaths. The sounds of the crackling flames were a bit less here, and even though the air was smoke-filled, they could breathe a bit easier.

  “How far is it to the cabin, Adam?” Eleanor had one hand on the horse’s flank.

  “It’s a few more miles. We’ll be able to get more rifles there, and ammunition, just in case.” He glanced at her and grimaced.

  Just like last time.

  He didn’t need to state the obvious. Eleanor got a sick feeling in her belly. Could she handle disposing of another British soldier? She squared her shoulders. “Well, then. We should be on our way.”

  Of course, she could handle it. She could keep these children safe when all hell was breaking loose around them. She would protect them with her life. She was an American.

  • ♥ •

  Eleanor trailed along behind Adam and the children, glancing back every now and then to make sure they weren’t being followe
d by the British. The further they got into the woods, the flood of other panicked townspeople lessened, the screams of the other residents faded, and the stench of smoke and burning bodies lessened. As a unit, the children were unusually quiet. They were aware, even at their young age, their very lives depended on their stealth. Eleanor shook her head. So young to have faced so much. Tears filled her eyes as she thought of the other Patterson children, in England, whose childhoods had been ideal. But did an ideal childhood ever prepare you for real life? She had no doubt, if all these children survived the war, they would grow into sterling examples of humanity. Already, Adam behaved more as a man than a child, and he had only just turned thirteen. Maybe the better way to prepare a child for adulthood was to heap a burden of responsibility on them at a young age.

  Her brooding thoughts were interrupted when Adam stopped the horse’s forward progress. He led them off the path and deeper into the woods.

  “What’s going on, Adam?” Eleanor whispered.

  “The cabin’s up ahead. I need to check it out first, make sure it’s vacant.” Adam handed her the reins and took the rifle from Caleb.

  “You can’t go there alone!” Eleanor hissed. “What if there are troops surrounding the cabin? If you’re apprehended, I’d never forgive myself. We’ll leave Ben in charge of the children and you and I will go together.”

  “Your gown will slow me down. Your job is to take care of the little ones. If it makes you feel better, I’ll take Ben.”

  Eleanor blew out a shaky breath. “All right. Be careful. I don’t want to hear any gunshots.” She grabbed Adam and Ben in a bear hug. “Unless it’s from your rifle.”

  “We’ll be back in ten minutes. Fifteen, at the most.”

  The wait was interminable. Eleanor tried not to chafe at the delay, since Caleb, Daniel and Elizabeth were paying attention to her. If she paced or fidgeted, they’d figure out something was amiss. She had to be as quiet as they were. But, even at their young ages, they’d had more experience with war than she had. She bit her lip to keep from yelling out for her missing boys, and instead placed what she hoped was a soothing hand on the two youngest ones, who were astride the horse.

  Finally, she caught sight of Adam’s lithe body slicing through the forest, and nearly sank to her knees.

  “The cabin is safe, and Ben’s guarding it for us.” He took up the reins of the horse and led the small band out of the woods. In minutes, they arrived at the one-room shack, and Eleanor helped Daniel and Elizabeth down from the horse while Adam tied him up at the door.

  Eleanor gave one final look at the woods surrounding the cabin before ducking inside with the others. She took the bag of food from Ben and distributed it to the children before she tugged on Adam’s arm and whispered, “How long should we stay here?”

  He nodded at the rifles stacked against the wall. “Papa said we were to wait for him here, so we shouldn’t leave until at least tomorrow. Unless he’s been taken prisoner or worse, he’ll be here by then. We have plenty of ammunition, and we have food. We’re in good shape.”

  Adam sat in the open doorway with his rifle over his shoulder. Eleanor tried to control the full body tremor that erupted when Adam so calmly spoke of his father possibly being killed. She shook her head. Children should never be exposed to war.

  Eleanor settled the children inside before she returned to sit near Adam. “We can’t stay here for too long. There’s no water, and we’re already short of food.”

  “Food will be in short supply regardless of where we are, I’m afraid. We at least have to spend the night here, and then, in the morning, we can head back to what’s left of the town, and see if we can find Papa, if he doesn’t come here first.” Adam leaned up against the door frame.

  Eleanor leaned back against the wall of the crude shelter. “Did the British storm the fort?”

  Adam nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. “The general said the enemy forces were lining up to do so. That’s when Papa told me to run.”

  “And, if they did, in fact, storm the fort, they would have taken the men as prisoners, right?”

  Again, he nodded. “Those they don’t kill first. Although, from what I’ve been told about the prisons, a quick death would be preferable.”

  Eleanor could not control her body. She sank to the floor when her knees gave out. “So, your father is either dead or imprisoned?”

  “He could have escaped somehow…” Adam glanced at her. “He isn’t part of the Army anymore and could have escaped before the British overran the fort.” He scanned the darkening forest. “Don’t worry, Eleanor. If Papa is dead, I can take care of us.”

  She canted her head toward town. “If the British have overrun Groton, there is nothing to go back to. And if your father did fall in battle, there’s no reason to stay here.”

  “We’ll stay here for a while, until we can find out what happened to Papa, and then we’ll go back to Boston. I never much cared for Groton, anyway.” Adam gave her a slight grin.

  Eleanor sat a bit longer on the hard floor. Her fate, along with that of the children, rested on the shoulders of a thirteen-year-old. Just as it had before, when he shot and killed Billy Buford. She ran her hand over her jumping stomach. How could they possibly survive?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  E leanor stood in the doorway of the small cabin as dawn crept over the landscape, searching the woods surrounding the area for signs of life. For signs of Patterson. The scent of smoke still hung in the air, but the scene in front of her was one of tranquility. It was hard to rectify the chaos they had lived through just one day prior with the pleasant scene facing her. The smoke resembled morning fog, and she had a crazy thought that yesterday had been only a bad dream.

  But the churning in her gut told her it hadn’t been a dream. Patterson hadn’t shown up last night, nor, thankfully, had any British soldiers. For the time being, they were safe, if rudderless. The children were still sleeping, worn out from the previous day’s activity. Plodding for miles toward an uncertain future. Just as this country was doing.

  Adam joined her in the doorway, propping a loaded rifle between them. Eleanor shook her head. “I guess this is a way of life now, isn’t it? Always carry a loaded weapon.”

  Adam casually held the rifle. “It’s time you carry a gun as well, Eleanor, for your own safety.”

  The twisting in her gut intensified. “I could never shoot someone, even in self-defense.”

  Adam gave her a sidelong glance. “If you’d had a gun or a knife the night Billy Buford had you pinned to the floor, would you have used it then?”

  Eleanor sighed and grinned slightly. “I would have at least threatened him with it.” Her grin grew wider. “Might have been fun to see him become afraid. He enjoyed tormenting so many of us when we were young, frightening us. It would have been nice to see the shoe on the other foot.”

  “So, I’ll pick out a handgun for you before we leave here.”

  “What do you have in mind, Adam?” Eleanor kept her gaze on the woods and her voice light so Adam wouldn’t see or hear her fear.

  “We need to find Papa.” Adam canted his head toward town. “That means we need to return to our home.”

  “Didn’t he tell you to stay here until he arrived?”

  Adam shrugged. “What if he didn’t make it? Or if he got taken prisoner? He could be jailed for years. We don’t have enough food for more than one day. We can’t hide out here forever.”

  Eleanor put a fist to her mouth to stop the scream. “At least we have a roof over our heads here. And there’s game in the forest, so we won’t go hungry for too long.”

  “If there’s anything left of Groton, it won’t be enough to continue to live here. I say we head into town, search for Papa, and then head to Boston. We could be there inside of a week.” Adam brushed back his wheat-colored hair, which reminded Eleanor of his father. Where was Patterson?

  “The children are exhausted from yesterday, Adam.”

  “All righ
t. You stay here with them, and I’ll go by myself into town. I’ll see if I can find Papa and check to see if there’s anything left of the house.” Adam squared his shoulders and faced Eleanor. “I’ll be back by nightfall.”

  She placed a hand on his arm, noticing the hard muscle beneath her fingers. When had he become a man instead of a little boy? She shook her head. He’d been a man since the night he’d killed Billy. “I can’t let you go into town alone, Adam. We’re in this together, as we’ve always been.”

  Adam took a deep breath. “Papa should have arrived by now, if he had made it out of the fort. We need to head into town, see if there’s anything remaining of our house, and then begin our journey to Boston. If by some stroke of luck, Papa is still alive, he’ll figure out where we’ll be heading.” He glanced over his shoulder, at his sleeping brothers and sister before he shifted his gaze to Eleanor. “It will be faster if I go alone.”

  “And I say no.” Eleanor tried to keep her voice low, although she wanted to scream her words. “If you go off by yourself, I’ll have two worries then, wondering if I’ll ever see you again, as well as your father. And, should some of the British find our cabin, who would be here to protect us? I’ve just told you I could never shoot a man. At least if we’re together, there’s power in numbers.”

  “All right, then. It will take most of the day to get back to town, so we should wake the children and get going soon.” Adam picked up the rifle.

  “We should leave a note for your father, telling him what we’re doing.” Eleanor stood up straight and stared at Adam. “Just in case.”

  “There’s nothing in the cabin to write with. Nor any paper. If he does show up, he’ll notice the missing handgun. Perhaps he’ll be able to piece things together.” Adam shrugged again. “We’d best get moving.”

  Eleanor puffed out her cheeks and picked up her skirts. “Yes, we should.” They’d head back into town and then begin a week-long trek to the town of Boston. Once again, she had to place her fate in the hands of this boy. She had no idea where Boston was, or how they’d survive without food for a week or more. Could the children hold up for the journey? Could she? They were all exhausted. Yet, it appeared they had no choice in the matter. Her fellow countrymen had seen to that. Except England was no longer her country. America was.