Liberty's Legacy

by Heidi Sprouse

  Cooper’s head snapped up and he stared at me, his brow creased in concentration. “Charlotte?” He asked incredulously. He glanced to the side, saw Ben and struggled to raise himself to his feet. He took one shuffling step forward. Another. “Benjamin?!”

  Heedless of the past and whatever had rocked his world, my husband stepped in and took Cooper’s hand before he fell. “Yes. Yes, we’re here, Jacob. We’re both here.”

  Jacob?!! I studied the man before us, his freckles stark against his now pale skin, his blue eyes blazing. With his flaming hair and barely contained vitality, he called to mind another fiery-haired friend from long ago, one who held a dear place in my heart. Someone with a powerful spirit housed in the body of a man. If I closed my eyes, I saw him clearly. Jacob Cooper. Elizabeth Cooper Bradley was right. Cooper Bradley looked so like the Jacob of my memories from a past life that they could have been brothers.

  Her grandson gripped both of us tightly, so tightly my hand hurt and Ben’s hand was turning red. Still my husband did not complain or break eye contact. “I want you to know, Benjamin. I need you to know. I did not mean to steal her away from you. I could not leave her and the baby alone. I pledged my love and protection to them, but they were always yours.”

  Cooper looked at Ben and me with such yearning and pain in his eyes. He took another step when his prosthetic leg gave. Ben and I stepped in closer, catching him before he crashed to the floor. We helped him back to his seat. Ben laid a hand on his head. “I know you cared for them and I am grateful. Because of you, my Charlotte and son had no blemish on their name. They had a home. They had a good man to shelter them. You loved them without expecting anything in return. You guarded my heart like no other could. You are a man above measure.”

  The three of us held on to one another and for an instant, I was in that small clearing in the woods, right after William, my ancestor, had been wounded on the day of the Battle of Johnstown. In the guise of a soldier, I had accompanied Benjamin and William into a waiting game as we anticipated the arrival of enemy forces. When word came that they were on the way, my Patriot made me flee into the woods. It was Jacob who found me and led me back to my men once it was safe to come out. A blink and we were back in the cheerful room in Mrs. Bradley’s house.

  Cooper continued to hold our hands, the muscles in his arms straining so hard that the tendons were raised to the surface. He forced us to go down on our knees beside him. “I don’t know what happened to Benjamin—your son. He took ill before the Battle of Plattsburgh. There is always another battle, whether the foe is in your body or is in your enemy, never any peace. I left him in the care of a lovely young woman outside of Plattsburgh and went on … and then I was wounded. I do not know anything after that. My memory is a blank slate. God forgive me. I pray you forgive me—I can’t find him. I don’t know his fate!”

  “Don’t worry. We’ve found him in his words … in here, buried in this house.” Ben pulled the journal from the inside pocket of his jacket where he’d poked it in all the excitement and pressed it into the young man’s hands.

  Cooper’s face lit in a tremulous smile and then the breath came out of him in a rush. He dropped his head in his hands, the book tumbling to the floor. We waited anxiously, poised to get help, whatever he needed. When he looked up, his face was clear. Mrs. Bradley’s grandson wore a tentative smile. “Hi. Who are you and where am I?”

  Rattled, I spoke quickly before he slipped away again, still holding his hand, afraid to break the connection. “I’m Charlotte Wilson. This is my husband, Ben. We’re acquaintances of your grandmother’s, looking at your family antiques and relics. You are at her home. They brought you here to recuperate.”

  “I’m Cooper Bradley. Friends and family call me Coop, except Nana. She’s formal.” He glanced at his leg and winced. “I don’t remember getting here. The last thing I remember was the moment I stepped on an explosive over in the desert. Sneaky bastards! They play dirty. I remember the ride in a Humvee with my guys—they bounced me all over the place, held me together with bandages, surgical tape, a tourniquet, and a prayer until I made it to the hospital. A Blackhawk flight to Germany is the last thing that comes to mind. Nana knows then, what happened to me? We only have each other now. Everyone else is gone and here I am, not whole anymore. I dreaded telling her, her only grandson and all, you know?”

  “Absolutely. We know all about living with missing pieces,” I told him, my voice rough like I’d swallowed sandpaper. Ben’s hand found its way to mine, the glue that held me together. Held us together.

  “Cooper?” A shaky voice drifted from the doorway. We craned our heads. Elizabeth was whiter than the linen napkins on the tray with her tea and cookies. I lunged forward and caught the tray before it crashed at our hostess’s feet. Ben caught her.

  Holding my hand, she unsteadily crossed the room, all the while her eyes pinned on her grandson. It was as if an imaginary thread extended between them; snip it and they would both fall. Cooper stood and took one faltering step, then another, closing the gap between them. One last step and he took his grandmother in his powerful arms, nearly swallowing her up. Elizabeth, small and delicate, went into his embrace as a little bird would go into its nest. His face cracked, and she began to cry. Cooper’s silent sobs joined her, all the more painful to watch. Ben and I stepped out, not wishing to intrude.

  Ben led me back to the dining room where we stood at the window, arms looped around each other’s necks, forehead to forehead. The sun set in the distance, bathing us in a wash of pink and deep purple. As if we were caught in a dream. I didn’t want to wake up.

  A door opened with a loud creak and Elizabeth approached us slowly, hands extended. “Ben, Charlotte? Please join Cooper and me on the sun porch. The tea is still hot. We must not let it go to waste.” Our hostess led us back to find Cooper settled with a cup of tea already.

  We sat on the loveseat across from him, his grandmother with her chair drawn as close to his as possible. If his past or his trauma tried to snatch him away again, the lady of the house would be a formidable foe. Elizabeth handed us both a cup of steaming brew and Cooper raised his tea cup in the air. “To my Godsends for helping me to find my way home.”

  Our cups clinked and we each took a sip. In no time, we were chatting, laughing, and eating, completely at ease with one another, as if we’d known each other a lifetime. Perhaps we had.

  As Ben and I prepared to take our leave, Cooper kissed my cheek. He lingered for an instant, inhaling the scent of my hair and perfume. His eyes drifted shut. Reluctantly, he turned to Ben and offered his hand. A heartbeat and he reeled my husband in to pound him on the back. “I am glad you made it back to her. That is where you belong. In her arms. I knew it that night I saw you together at Dodge’s while you were recovering. When I saw you say your farewells at the Battle of Johnstown, when I watched you fall,” He paused for an instant. That distant day was hard for all of us to take. “I knew you would be her love forever more.”

  Ben squeezed his eyes shut and cleared his throat. “She had a big enough heart to love you as well. I’m glad you made it back too.” The three of us held on to each other, a triangle that was finally made complete.

  ***

  We stood in our kitchen, the clock ticking quietly on the wall, the familiar sights and scents a comfort. This was our place that grounded us and gave us an anchor. Ben stood in his sock feet, head bowed, his hands on the journal as it lay on the kitchen table.

  I waited beside him, doing my best to be patient. To be whatever he needed me to be. Jakey was with my mother and father for the night, their anniversary gift to us. We had what seemed like an endless stretch of hours ahead of us. How to fill them?

  “I need some time.” Ben’s voice was a low rumble, hitting me in the pit of my stomach.

  My spirits fell, and I did my best to cover my disappointment. “You want to be alone for a while? I understand.” Fighting tears, I planned on a hasty retreat before my husband saw how upset I w
as.

  I let out a startled cry as his strong arms scooped me up and he carried me up the stairs to our bedroom. “No. I need time—with you.” He laid me down on our bed and set his hands beside my head, bracing himself as his straight, firm body hovered over mine. “I’m sorry. I’ve been really consumed by this hunt for Benjamin Cooper.” His mouth rested on the pulse beating in my neck. A beautiful humming rose up inside of me. Filling me. I gave myself to it. Completely.

  “It’s all right,” I told him breathlessly. “It was my turn the first go around, after my trip back in time, at the Colonial Cemetery. I know what this is like, how it shakes you to the core. Picking up the pieces, putting them together, making sense of them is a challenge. You helped me. Now I’ll do the same.” My voice was reedy, the words tumbling from my tongue. My mind was a kaleidoscope, an explosion of colors and shapes, tumbling end over end. Much longer and I would not be able to comprehend anything, losing myself in this wonder of a man.

  Ben’s mouth traveled to my jawbone, my cheek, and then settled on my lips. A soft moan escaped me, a pleasure so extreme it bordered on pain. The past faded away. I was wrapped up in the here, the now…and his name was Ben.

  I woke sometime late in the morning. Unbelievably late for the first time since I couldn’t remember. Sleeping in was a luxury that I gladly surrendered when our son was born. I was so lazy, my limbs so heavy that I could barely move. My body had turned to Jell-O, my insides to pudding. Last night—off and on, all night—was the first time we made love since Jacob’s birth on Thanksgiving.

  The sunlight streaming through my window caught my gaze, dust motes floating in the air like fairy dust. Mesmerized, I simply stared at the dance of minute particles until it hit home. My bed was empty. Fearful, I hitched myself up, ready to get out of bed to investigate the whereabouts of my husband when the door opened.

  Ben came in wearing a big grin, his pajama bottoms hanging deliciously low on his hips. His chest was bare. He balanced a tray loaded with good things to eat, but all I could think about was the delicacy that stood by my bed. He set everything down on the dresser and gave me a kiss. Long. Lingering. Mouthwatering. He pulled away and I almost cried out.

  Struggling to maintain some modicum of self-control, I slid over as he set the tray between us. “This is a treat. Breakfast in bed. You’re really spoiling me. A girl could get used to this, but what about Jakey?”

  Ben propped himself up beside me, snatched a piece of bacon, and began to nibble. “Hmm. Your mother left a message. We can come to discuss visitation rights at dinner tonight.”

  I giggled and buried my face in the covers as his deft fingers tickled my side. “Another day? Just the two of us. Whatever will we do?” Bacon, coffee, and dusty, old journals would have to wait.

  A little while longer.

  I was breathless, exhausted, and stuffed by the time we were ready to pick up Ben’s find. We’d eaten every last scrap on the heaping plate, fuel that had been essential after another intense round of lovemaking that left us with warm bodies and cold food. Neither of us cared.

  Sated for the time being, Ben fell asleep with his head resting on my shoulder, his arm protectively stretched across my chest, one leg entwined with mine. The crease between his eyes faded away, the fine current of tension that had been with him for weeks finally gone. He slept throughout the late morning hours into the afternoon and I let him. I spent much of the time simply watching my love. I sent up a prayer of gratitude. Ben had turned a corner. Whatever the next step of the journey was, he would take it in stride.

  The shadows were getting longer when Ben opened one chocolate-colored eye, the corner of his lip turning up. “This is sinful, lying here all day. I hate to admit it, but I wish this moment could last forever, holding on to my beautiful wife here in our bed where all is right in the world.”

  I stroked his hair and leaned over to kiss his forehead. “Like I said, a girl could get used to this. How was your nap?”

  “Heavenly.” He stretched like a cat and I had to close my eyes, sucking in a deep breath. My husband simply bedazzled me. I didn’t know what I did to deserve the real-life fairy tale, challenges and all, but I didn’t regret a single second. Ben hitched himself up, propping the pillows and gathered me in next to him, covering us with the comforter. “I feel like a new man. A few more sleeps like that and I’ll be as good as new.”

  I pressed my ear to his chest and listened to the thrum of his heart. I closed my eyes and nearly drifted off again. Content. At ease. Finally. “Charlotte?” His voice rumbled, echoing all the way to my bones. He chuckled, a lovely music, tried again. “Love?”

  I peeked up at him. “Yes?”

  “Shall we read some before it’s time to pull ourselves together and get Jacob? You do remember that we have a son, right?” One eyebrow went up in the air, quizzical, his tone light. To hear humor in his voice again. My eyes stung to be given such a gift.

  Covering, I sat up and reached for the journal sitting on my nightstand. For one irrational moment, I wanted to put it away. Forget it existed. What if we didn’t like what we found? “Ben, what if we are opening Pandora’s Box? Perhaps we should leave well enough alone.”

  His hand rested on mine until my fingers went limp and the book slid onto his palm. “We’ve never turned away from anything this adventure has held for us before. Don’t lose your courage now, Charlotte. I’m nervous too, but I know we can handle it. Together.”

  I met his eye and set my shoulders. Took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m ready.” I lied through my teeth. My husband knew it. He kissed me, steadying me. The cover flipped open and Ben began to read aloud, picking up the threads of a life that was a part of the quilt that bound us together.

  11

  28 July 1814

  Benjamin Willson Cooper

  The going was rough, the woods dense enough to be nearly impenetrable, crowding in so close at times that I found it hard to breathe. From time to time, I would stop to take a drink from my canteen, concealing an intense need to fill my lungs with air. The trail through the Adirondack Mountains had become steep and narrow, so riddled with rocks that we picked our way at a snail’s pace. Usually able to cover twenty-five miles in a day, we had dropped to ten. We would be fortunate to make it to Plattsburgh in seven days. I half expected to get there only to be told the war was over. Go home and God save the King.

  The slower we went, the more easily we became food for a plague of insects. Blackflies, minute monsters that they were, made it near impossible to see and drove me to distraction swatting at them. Thank the Lord Flintlock was such a capable steed, otherwise I would be flat on my rump on the forest floor. Worse yet were the gigantic horseflies that were devouring me by the hour. Frustrated to no end, I swatted at my neck and drew my hand away to see it splattered with blood. My blood. “I will be a skeleton by the time we get there. These greedy beasts are consuming me!”

  My stepfather chuckled, ambling ahead of me.

  Hot, itchy and miserable as I was, Jacob did not seem to be bothered in the least. His only concession to the conditions, to remove his hat and swat at the blackflies, smacking one from time to time and letting the blood trickle down his skin. Occasionally, he let loose a colorful string of curses if one managed to get a considerable chunk of his flesh.

  He waited patiently as I stopped yet again, tipping my canteen over my head at this point. “This is war, Benjamin. Waiting. Interminable waiting. Riding for days on end in less than favorable conditions, hoping that you will get there before anything happens, a small part of you hoping that you will miss it all. Get to go home and sleep in your own bed for another night and if you are blessed with the grace of God, you will have a fine woman lying next to you.” He gave me a crooked grin as the heat traveled to my ears.

  I took a swig from my canteen, turned it upside down and cursed. Bone dry. I pulled at my collar, loosening the top button and yanked my coat off, draping it across my legs. Hot … Confound it, but I was burning u
p, the oppressive heat drenching me with sweat. My shirt was glued to my body.

  My stepfather started to laugh. “Oh, my son. If you could only see the woebegone expression on your face. The next body of water, we will stop and rest, that is unless you want some of my canteen. It is nearly full.”

  I shook my head and prodded my horse’s flanks, grumbling beneath my breath as we ambled forward. The man had to be part camel! Another hour and I thought I would scream or curl up alongside the trail in a ball to let the wild animals and wilderness swallow me whole. We crested a rise overlooking the gentle rolling peaks that surrounded us as far as the eye could see. I would have found it amazing if not for the misery that clouded my optimism.

  A hand clapped me on the shoulder. I jerked and turned my head. Jacob was beside me, blue eyes twinkling, teeth flashing bright in a face that had become browned by the sun. “Open your eyes! There is a creek down below. The way it is burbling, it should be cold and sweet. Go down and take your fill.” His crooked grin irked me to no end. The man continued to look unperturbed while I was ready to tear out my hair in frustration.

  One look at the mad rush of water below and I took heart. A group of militia men were spread out in the area below. Several were filling their canteens, others scrubbed their faces or cupped nature’s elixir in their hands, drenching their hair. A gathering of men was bathing downstream while more of their companions relieved themselves in the heavy thicket of pines that hugged the shore. The atmosphere was light-hearted, laughter ringing out, chatter echoing off the mountains. Soldiers lounged on the warm rocks, faces tipped to the sun. This did not look like a group heading to war. This group was on its way home.