by Becky Akers
Mr. Wyckoff grinned as he handed his wife to the ground. “Lots of fun today, ja, Mr. Huntington?”
“You can depend on it,” he said. He waited for the Wyckoffs to precede him. Then he pretended he saw someone he knew and hurried from them.
It seemed a battalion of Redcoats was gathered around the bull-baiting. He hovered on the edges as they loosed the dogs, listening intently, but most conversations centered on how long the bull would last and whether the wager laid should have been more or less.
He had better luck at the pie-eating contest. While two Hessians wolfed down apple and quince pastry, he overheard a lieutenant promise his sweetheart he would write her when his regiment was posted to the Jerseys. Nathan strolled in front of them, shook his head as though amazed at the soldiers’ appetites, and turned to leave. His eye fell on the lieutenant’s coat buttons, embossed with the number of his regiment.
By late afternoon, he was satisfied. He had learned nothing new since morning, was instead confirming details gathered before. Almost dizzy with relief, especially at finishing early—one less day spent lying and beguiling, one less night plagued by nightmares of dishonor and a noose—he started for the fair’s outskirts. He would stop at the farm for his papers, leave a note of thanks to the Wyckoffs, and hike to the ferry. He should be able to catch the last one with time to spare for dinner.
As he sauntered toward the cow-pens, he saw the Wyckoffs. It was too late to fade into the crowd, for they had spotted him, too, and were waving.
Alice had walked the fair for hours without catching sight of Nathan. She was exhausted, even more discouraged, and almost wished Guy had not rushed away this morning, for she would welcome his company now. Her anxiety at using him to cross the river and find Flatlands Plain hadn’t vanished but increased, surprisingly enough, when she was on her own again—especially among the enemy. Even a Patriot as tepid as Guy would have been better than none at all in this sea of scarlet uniforms.
Beneath her jitters lay bewilderment and despair. The fair was far larger than she had pictured. How would she ever spot Nathan among so many hundreds of people? Guy’s parting words had been a suggestion that she ask the soldiers whether they had seen a schoolmaster resembling Nathan. She had vehemently shaken her head before striking off across the grounds. Asking the farmers hadn’t worked, either. Most of them spoke little English, she found, and what they did speak had to do with crops and how much gold a load of hay would bring. Making them understand she searched for the man in her miniature was impossible.
Now, as she passed a row of benches arranged for judging the cattle, she sank onto one gratefully. She removed her shoe, shook a pebble from it. Her feet were aching and blistered after her hours of walking. She wriggled her toes and sat, shoe in hand, staring into the crowd.
Guy peered at her from behind a pen of calves. After shadowing her all afternoon, he was beginning to admit that his idea had been a bad one. He doubted Hale was here after all, for he had seen none of the handbills such as a Continental agent would be spreading, that insulted the government while lauding liberty. Some were even printed in German and offered the Hessians land in Pennsylvania if they deserted. But there were none at the fair, not even at the stands of the old Dutch women selling doughnuts who hoarded every scrap of paper to wrap their wares. If Hale were here (and what an ideal place to take him, with Regulars swarming the grounds!), he must be spying. Guy tingled with delight at the fate of captured spies.
Alice got to her feet, and Guy caught the flash of sun on burnished hair out of the corner of his eye. He stared, Alice forgotten. The man was too distant for him to be sure. Still....
Guy pulled his spyglass from a pocket and focused on him, then smirked.
Nathan Hale, handsome and upright as ever, swam into view. His hair shone blindingly, especially in contrast to the drab homespun he wore instead of a uniform. He was walking arm-in-arm with a lovely woman, her curls a becoming shade of chestnut beneath their skim of powder, who dimpled at him with that infatuated grin the ladies wore in his presence. Hale tossed a comment over his shoulder, and Guy moved his glass to watch an older man, following with a string of children, chortle and clap him on the back. Charming the birds from the trees, as always.
Alice wiggled her foot into her shoe. She scanned the crowd again before bending to fasten the buckle, working the leather strap through the clasp before realizing what she had seen. She snapped upright and squinted across the grounds.
“Dear God,” she whispered as her eyes rounded.
Hoisting her skirts, she bounded across the field. She forgot that Nathan might be in danger, that they were in British territory, that she must be cautious. She forgot everything but that she had found him, and his name tore from her. “Nathan! NAAA‑THAAAN!”
Nathan had just told Mr. Wyckoff he owed him new clothes if his wife’s cooking made him too fat for his present ones when Ally’s cries reached him. He stood thunderstruck and watched the slight figure weave through the crowd, waving wildly, triumphantly. Mrs. Wyckoff was looking at him, and her husband grinned. “I think she knows you, Huntington.”
“Nathan!” she called again. He pulled his eyes from her to smile weakly at Mrs. Wyckoff. So far as he could remember, he had not supplied his Christian name, being only Mr. Huntington. Still, he would rather not have Ally shouting his identity to the countryside. He must get her away from the Wyckoffs quickly, before she destroyed his disguise. Most mortifying, though, was that he now had to confess his spying to her. The joy surging through him fizzled to shame.
Alice raced toward him with breath coming in such gasps that she was faint. It had taken her a long, frustrating time to find him, but Guy had been right: everyone on Long Island was attending the fair.
“Oh, Nathan, my darling!” She catapulted into his arms, oblivious to the family beside him. Nathan hugged her. Then, with his arm around her shoulders, he turned to the bemused Wyckoffs.
“This is Alice Ripley. We haven’t seen one another for a while.”
“No, I guess not.” Mr. Wyckoff chuckled. “What is—”
“You excuse us, please? She brings me news of my family—”
“Certainly.” Wyckoff waved them away.
Nathan pulled her toward the holding pens. “How’d you find me? Everything all right at home?”
“Of course, silly. I’d have told you right off if it weren’t. But they probably think I’m a horse thief.” She giggled. “I left in the middle of the night, without telling anyone. Guy Daggett helped me find you.”
“Guy Daggett?”
She nodded. “He brought me over on the ferry this morning and then rode with me here. He left hours ago, but to tell you the truth, he was a perfect gentleman. The family wouldn’t have let me come, Nathan. You know they wouldn’t. I—”
“You say Guy Daggett helped you find me?”
This time, she caught the urgency in his voice. His eyes, hollowed by the fever, seemed bigger and brilliantly blue. “Yes, Nathan, he helped me. I know it seems strange, but—but he’s still so—so, um—” She caught herself. She had been about to say, “besotted,” but Nathan must never learn the truth, must never suspect the vile, utterly dishonorable deal she’d struck with Guy. Yet what could she say? How else to explain Guy’s behavior?
Her excuse wouldn’t have mattered: Nathan wasn’t listening. Instead, he’d grabbed her hand and was marching across the fairgrounds, pulling her after him. “Come on, Ally. Let’s go.”
“Go? Where are we going?”
He did not answer except to lengthen his pace until she struggled to keep up and they broke into a run. Their dash drew notice, with people staring and several soldiers shouting. One stepped in front of them and cried, “Halt!” when Nathan dodged him.
“Ally, come on! Keep running!”
“I can’t, Nathan. I—”
They had reached the outskirts of the fair, where farmers parked their wagons and officers left their mounts to graze. Nathan bolted onto t
he back of a roan with the deep chest and strong legs that signaled speed, hauling Alice up behind him.
“Nathan, wait. I left Nellie over there.”
“Just come on!” He kicked the horse’s ribs and the animal leaped forward.
Four officers pounded out of the fairgrounds after them. One shouted, “You, there, that’s my horse. Stop! Stop or I’ll fire!”
A sidearm popped. “Stay low, Ally!” Nathan cried. Alice clung to him, praying, moaning, as they galloped away.
Guy cursed as he skittered from the fair to see Alice’s black curls bouncing down the road behind Nathan. He was so intent on watching his quarry escape that he did not realize officers had run up beside him. Nor did he notice the senior one pulling a pistol from his pocket. But the gun’s discharge woke him from his trance. The roan screamed as the ball scratched her flank though she did not slow.
“That’s my bloody horse,” the major said, and Guy saw his salvation in him. He had approached one Redcoat after another when he spotted Hale. He had never thought they would shrug him off, was astonished that they preferred enjoying the fair to chasing saboteurs. But perhaps this officer, personally injured by the honorable captain, would listen.
“I know the man who stole it,” Guy said.
The major stared after his roan, fast disappearing. He was obviously wondering whether pursuit was worthwhile given their lead, until Guy added, “He’s in service to Washington, sir. He’s a captain with the rebels, yet here he is, out of uniform.”
The major studied Guy before turning to his adjutant. “Find me a horse, and get four more men. We’ve a rebel to catch.”
Nathan brought the roan to a standstill deep in the forest lining the Jamaica Road. They were in the Heights, near Bedford, where the government had routed the Continentals three weeks earlier. The heat aggravated the stench of rotting corpses, nauseating him. He broke a limb from a tree and drew it through the dirt to ruin their trail. Traffic from the fair streamed down the road. The Redcoats were inept trackers under the best of circumstances; he doubted they could follow him.
Alice slid from the horse and leaned against its flanks, heaving as hard as the animal. When Nathan returned, dragging the branch behind, she raised her head. “Suppose you tell me what’s going on.”
He said nothing, only plucking a leaf and twirling it in his fingers.
She stamped her foot. “Nathan, I spent last week riding from home to the army, trying to find you, because I thought you were dying of fever. Then, I find the army, but you’re not there. General Washington tells me—”
“You talked to His Excellency?” He rolled his eyes.
“He tells me you’re off to the seashore for a cure, and then Asher says you’ve come out here to teach school.” Nathan gave her a look, and she remembered Asher’s plea to keep his secret too late. “Then, Guy—um, when I do find you, you steal a horse and someone shoots at us.”
He smiled at her summary, and she stamped her foot again.
“And I want to marry you, Nathan. Please, let’s go hunt a magistrate right now. Then they can’t take you away from me ever again.”
He twirled the leaf a final time and let it drop. “Listen, Ally. There’s something I—I—. We can’t get married now, Ally. We’re behind enemy lines.”
The light in her eyes faded while squirrels scolded from the branches overhead. “Always an excuse, Nathan. Don’t do this to me again. There’s no reason why we can’t be married. Unless, of course,” she spread her arms and glared, “there aren’t any magistrates behind enemy lines.”
He stepped close, caught her hands in his. “Ally, while I was sick, I saw how wrong I’ve been. We should have married years ago.”
His love glowed on his face, and she drank her fill, scarcely breathing.
“My father had no right to take the promise from me he did. But we can’t marry just yet.” He hesitated. “Ally, I—I—well, I’m out of uniform behind enemy lines....”
The unspoken word hung between them, sullying the place more than the corpses. Mind reeling, she struggled to understand. Her honorable Nathan a spy? It was too fantastic. The same sense of unreality descended that had when she swam in the creek as a child, where the beavers dammed it so it was deep enough to stand upright and still be underwater, eyes shut tight and ears muffled to the world above. Once, her foot had caught in the dam. She’d almost drowned, and the panic that assailed her then overwhelmed her now. She recoiled as if slapped.
“Oh, Nathan, no. You—you couldn’t even lie to your father so we could get married. How could they send you to spy?”
“No one else would go.”
She said nothing, tears overwhelming her.
“Ally, it’s not safe for you here—”
“Safe? What do you mean, not safe?” New terror shook her. “Oh, dear God, what do they do with spies if they catch them, Nathan?”
He glanced away, biting his lip.
She hissed, “They hang them, don’t they?”
“They’re not going to catch me, Ally.”
“They almost did! They’ll catch you and hang you and—”
“No, they won’t.”
She looked into his face, so full of life and light and goodness, and peace settled over her. This was Nathan, invincible, extraordinary, unlike other men. This was Nathan, who made even the Deacon laugh, Nathan, everyone’s beloved, Nathan, bravest, brightest, best. He was right. They would never catch him. She listened with a lighter heart.
“Look, Ally, it’s going to be dark soon. The last ferry’s probably leaving now. We’ll never make it, so when the horse is rested, I’ll go back to my room, get my things together. We’ll catch the first ferry in the morning, head back to our lines.”
They were mounted and starting for the Wyckoffs’ farm when he mentioned Baker’s Tavern, about two miles down the road, where she could stay this night—
“No, Nathan, I’m not leaving you, not ever again.”
“I know, but I’ve got the only spare bed at the Wyckoffs’. ’Twill take too much explaining, I ask them to take you in, too.”
Horses crowded the hitching rail before Baker’s so that Alice held their roan while Nathan sought the proprietor. Most of the animals bore the same brand as theirs, that of the British Army, and officers in scarlet ambled on and off the porch. She leaned against the mare’s rump to hide the mark, eyes averted lest a Redcoat approach for conversation, praying for Nathan’s safety.
When Nathan reappeared, hat pulled low, he was shaking his head. “No room in the inn. I feel like Joseph and Mary.”
“What’ll we do?”
He glanced at a clutch of officers laughing on the stoop. “Right now, let’s just get out of here.”
They had covered half a mile when she leaned her head against his shoulder. “Nathan, let me stay with you in your room.”
He tensed, as shocked as when she had proposed to him four years ago. Before he could appeal to honor and deny her, she continued, “We’re only talking about one night. You said we’re going back tomorrow. I can’t stand to sleep apart and worry every minute that they’ve taken you.”
“More likely I’d take you, Ally, if we’re alone in my room.”
Though he meant it for a joke, his voice was as tight as his body, and she sought to ease his strain. “Don’t worry. You come near me, I promise to scream.”
That made him smile. “’Tis a small room, Ally. I’ll be deaf by morning.” He ran a hand through his hair. “What’ll we tell the Wyckoffs?”
“The truth.”
“Ally!”
“Not that you’re a spy, Nathan, just that we’re betrothed. No, better yet, we’ll tell them we left the fair to go get married. You hadn’t seen me in so long that you were swept off your feet.”
“They’ll never believe that.” He added quickly, “Not that I’m not swept off my feet—”
“I’ll tell them. They’ll believe me. Remind me to tell General Washington he should pick a better l
iar for his next assignment.”
The soldiers rode for an hour, until the setting sun turned the sky as red as their uniforms. Then the major called a halt and turned his men back toward the fair. Guy argued that if they kept going, they might spot Hale around the next bend.
“Haven’t caught sight of him yet,” the officer said. “You want to keep searching, sir, I won’t stop you. But I’ve had enough. I’ll send word out when I get back to my regiment. In a few days, all the troops on Long Island will be watching for him.”
In a few days! By then, a man of Hale’s capabilities could vanish so thoroughly they’d never find him. The major receded down the road, and Guy scowled. He sat his horse, uncertain what to do. Wagons were trickling past, coming from the fair as the festivities ended. His bladder was full, and his horse’s head drooped after their hard ride. He dismounted and stepped into the trees along the road, mind churning.
He’d almost had him, almost surprised Hale behind enemy lines in civilian dress. It was hard to have lost him—and Alice too. Guy had thought to have her in his bed tonight and Hale denounced as the rebels’ agent. Instead, once again, Hale had outwitted him.
Guy returned to the roadside and watched the wagons lumber by as his horse cropped grass. Odd how all these farmers looked alike. Each of them squat, with two chins apiece and blonde hair slicked back or hidden beneath a wig. And their wives were female versions of this, except for that one there. His eyes lingered on a comely woman with fetching dimples. Her husband was speaking to her, but she stared dreamily into space with half a smile. Their wagon had turned onto a path intersecting the main road before Guy remembered where he had previously admired those dimples. Elation swept him. He mounted his horse and followed discreetly.
When they reached their farm, the Wyckoffs were surprised to find their guest there ahead of them.