The soldier nodded to Joseph, an indication he intended to give every remaining attention to Hannah.
Nearing the horse, Hannah grinned. “To whom am I to offer my unending thanks?”
He bowed his head. “Lieutenant Matthew Greene, my lady. At your service.”
She flicked a look to Joseph before the man aided her onto the saddle, her eyes wide and face as white as the snow on the trees.
Greene.
Joseph lurched but was held still, as if pulled back by an unseen hand. The man was astride and off with a nod before Joseph could put two thoughts together. Within moments, all of them were gone.
Every muscle, every vein and sinew strained until Joseph’s entire body alternately ached and burned. He should never have let her go. What was she thinking to accept such an offer? What was he thinking?
’Twas that very man who had taken Ensign’s life. Dearest Lord, protect her.
The fear in her face had all but cut through his chest.
He flicked the reins and kept the horses at as fast a pace as they could endure, but even then he would never match the speed the soldiers had taken. Accursed wagon. Accursed scheme!
If that man did anything to her—if she were not in a room, alone and content when Joseph returned, then Matthew Greene would not live to see another sunrise.
Chapter Eight
Joseph pounded on the rough wood planks of the door of the room he was informed Hannah occupied. Melted snow dripped from his shoulders and cocked hat. Why didn’t she answer? He pounded again, then looked down the dimly lit hall. He didn’t wish to disturb any others, but the longer he waited, the longer his nerves stretched to their thinnest.
He tried the handle. Locked. “Hannah, ’tis I. Let me in.” He whispered against the wood, but still his tone sounded more frantic than he would have wished, but it couldn’t be helped. The horrifying scenarios that had played in his mind since the moment she left his side refused to quiet their constant revolutions.
“Hannah, are you in there?” If she wasn’t, if he didn’t find her in the next second, he would—
The handle turned, and his heart leapt to his throat as the door opened. A weak smile on her face, Hannah motioned him to enter.
He rushed in, scanning the room to be sure she was alone before looking her over. “Are you all right? Why didn’t you answer right away?”
“Forgive me. I was…” She closed the door, her expression lost and voice hollow. “I suppose I was so consumed by thought I didn’t hear you.”
Joseph stilled, claiming her eyes when he spoke again, this time clear and low. “Are you all right?”
Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “Aye.”
He stepped closer, fighting the strange and sudden urge to touch her cheek, to study her face, to know if really all was as well as she claimed it to be, for that was the only way his reckless fears could finally be calmed.
A flash of her smile allowed him to inhale a bit deeper, but still he clenched his fists, arms rigid at his sides. “What happened on the ride?”
The indignant tip of her head he expected at such a demand never happened. She hugged her middle and went to the window, staring out at the huge flakes that floated aimlessly. “We spoke little. He asked our destination, and I answered him truthfully, saying we are returning to our uncle’s foundry.” She paused, her throat moving. “He acted as if nothing had happened there. As if he was not acquainted with that place at all. He said nothing of the British taking it. Nothing of Ensign’s death.” Her voice cracked, and a stray tear blinked from her red-rimmed eyes. “A death he is responsible for.”
Dear Hannah.
The hungering need to hold her, to comfort away her grief, became too great to conquer, and he submitted. He neared from behind, ready to reach for her, but he stopped when, gratefully, she spoke again, saving him from a foolish act that could not have been unwritten.
“I told him we planned to leave again in the morning.” She looked over her shoulder, the weariness in her eyes tensing his already stiff muscles. “And he plans to accompany us.”
“What?” Joseph turned her at the elbow. “Tell me you are not serious.”
She slowed her movements, staring somewhere past his shoulder. “I tried to dissuade him, but he was unmoved.” After a shallow shake of the head, she brushed past him and moved to the other side of the room where a desk and chair rested. “I must write to Caroline and tell her not to call.”
Joseph’s stomach clenched. “Does she often?” A single unwanted visitor could destroy everything.
Offering a cursory glance, Hannah shook her head. “Rarely. But we cannot take the risk.”
Foresighted. Joseph issued a slight, albeit needed inner reprimand. It seemed he gave her far less credit than she deserved.
Clutching the chair, she stopped, touching her forehead. When she didn’t instantly look up again, Joseph advanced beyond the crouching enemy of risk and put a hand at her back. “I fear you are unwell.”
“Only tired.”
He moved her to face him, but she kept her hand upon her head, and ’twas then he noticed her red-cold fingers.
“You are still too cold.”
Heedless of the danger, he took her hands, rubbing them between his own. ’Twas then the threatened enemy struck, as the feel of her skin against his ignited the sweet, torturing memories.
In a flood he could not contain, he tried to speak, to act, to move as if he were not nearly drowning. He continued to rub her icy hands between his. “I wish you would rest.”
She stared up at him, eyes circled and full lips partly open. “I…I suppose I should.”
He kept rubbing, hoping the action would erase not only the cold in her hands but the heat that suddenly burned a path up his chest.
“If you will promise to stay here, I shall go belowstairs and return with a meal.”
Licking her lips, she nodded, her eyes speaking more than he wanted to believe. Did she feel it too? The tangible sparks between them? The sudden pink in her cheeks and quick rise and fall of her chest attested she did.
Slowly, he stilled his hands but could not find the strength to release his hold. Only a moment longer…
She peered up at him, her lips open as if she prepared to speak. Tugging her hands away, she grinned and moved her fingers to prove they had indeed warmed. The color in her face bloomed, matching the same tone of red that her fingers had been.
“Thank you.” Her voice wavered, and she stepped back.
“I…” He cleared his throat, hoping to knock his tone back into place. “I shall return.”
He hurried to the door, flaring his fingers to flick away the lingering allure of her touch. He gripped the cold metal handle and fled the perilous space.
Fool.
Closing the door, he descended the stairs, berating himself with every pulse of his far-too-heated blood. Why had he done it? He growled. He knew why but refused to acknowledge the answer that taunted him—laughing and pointing like a bullying schoolboy. But he stood his ground.
Never again.
Another touch, no matter how innocent or well meaning, would dispatch him to places he knew all too well. Places he would never go again.
* * *
Hannah’s breathing refused to return to normal as she stared at the door Joseph had just closed. What had happened? She shuffled backward to the bed and sat, her pulse still forcing her lungs to pump as if she’d taken a long flight of stairs two by two. Merciful heavens.
She looked to the door again, shock infusing every weary nerve with shots of vibrant light. The tenderness in his eyes, the way he held her hands in his…and almost hadn’t let go.
The rhythmic pulse of her heart drummed a warning cry in her ears. No, Hannah. Do not do it. She had taken this road before and knew its deadly path. ’Twas clear her heart would betray her no matter what she did to secure its loyalty. Groaning, Hannah covered her face. How weak she was. Could she not keep the past ever before her? If s
he blinked she might lose sight of what she’d already lost, and then the pain she’d suffered would be too much to bear. Having loved him once before, ’twould be all too easy to fall prey to him again.
Such reckless behavior should never be condoned. She must be strong, no matter what he did or did not do. The power to remain safe was hers alone. Like freshly scrolled words on a crisp parchment, Hannah hovered the memory over the flame of those pain-filled years. With a groan she collapsed back against the thin pillow and stared at the ceiling, unwilling just yet to touch that waiting flame to the precious moment. His eyes had turned such a deep blue as he’d looked at her, his strong hands giving their warmth. His breath was so soft. Did that mean he still cared for her? A man would not be so with a woman if he did not…would he?
She slapped her hands to her face. Foolish woman! He cares for you as you care for him. Not at all.
Hannah jerked upright, burning once and for all the memory of his touch upon her hand. Tomorrow would begin a new day, and tomorrow she would arm her heart with musket, sword, and dagger. For without defense, she would lose her whole soul to him as she had once before. And that she could never endure. Not a second time.
Chapter Nine
The next day was long and colder than the last had been. How that was possible, Hannah couldn’t begin to fathom. Though the snow no longer fell as it had yesterday, the temperatures reached through to her bones. Thank the Lord the foundry was just around the bend. The trees were as familiar to her as if they were her very kin, welcoming her home. The five soldiers who went ahead of them were almost out of sight, certainly out of range of the sound of their voices.
She glanced to where Joseph sat beside her on the wagon, the protection she placed around her heart so far doing the job she’d intended. Neither had spoken of the touch, and neither even acted like the event had ever occurred. If she allowed it, she wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or otherwise, so she settled on the former, promising herself he thought not of it, as she was working to do.
Clearing her throat, she stared forward. “We are nearly there.”
“Aye.” After a quick glance her direction, he stretched his shoulders back. “Be watchful. Be cautious. We know not what awaits us.”
The reserved thunder in his whispered words made her pull her cloak tighter. She nodded. “I am ready.”
“Our escort is not so innocent.” He flung her a quick glance before studying the road.
She nodded. “There is something he does not tell.”
A single brow slanted, as if he was surprised she had noticed it as well.
“We will gain our objective—we must.” She inhaled a long, slow breath. “And I am not afraid, Joseph.”
“I know you are not.” Head twisting only slightly, his voice reached low to jostle her. “That is what worries me.”
His words stung. How could her confidence bode ill? Yoking her shoulders between steadfastness and strength, Hannah pulled the weight of her conviction headlong into the future. For you, dear Ensign. For the cause.
“We’re here.” Joseph said the very words her heart whispered.
Chin raised, she rested her previous frustrations in the comfort of the view that consumed her as they rounded the remaining corner. Eaton Hill. At long last the house came into view—its shining windows and red door seeming to bid them welcome, while the foundry and small hill not far beyond sang a homecoming ovation.
There in the yard between the foundry and the house, the soldiers were dismounting and leading their mounts to the barn.
Play the part, Hannah. Live it. Breathe it.
“’Tis good to finally see home again.” Hannah caught Greene’s stare. “You are very kind to see us here. May I offer you something warm before you take your journey back?”
“Forgive me, my lady.” Greene dismounted and nodded to another soldier to take his horse. “I may have neglected to inform you that your uncle’s foundry has been commandeered.” No more sweet civility in his words, but a strict man of business. “We quarter here now.”
Hannah looked to Joseph, who spoke a hundred warnings in a single look. Her insides twisted like a sopping piece of wash, and she turned to Greene, who, from his firm features likely assumed she would protest his announcement. Pleasurably, she disappointed him. “You are? This is news indeed.”
He pretended politeness, his eyes more squinting than smiling. “I shall inform the captain you have arrived.” With a curt nod he made for the house.
Only once he was gone did Joseph finally speak. “Are you certain he does not recognize you?” He hurried around the wagon to help her down.
She swallowed, hoping he didn’t hear the hesitation in her tone. “Aye. I am certain.”
Jaw ticking, Joseph moved to the back of the wagon and pulled the first trunk forward, whispering so the piling snow could not stand witness. “Stay with me. If things take a dangerous turn I—”
“So you are the family Mr. Young spoke of.”
Both Hannah and Joseph spun toward the voice.
The man stepped forward. Bold smile and stocky build, the older soldier stepped within only feet of them, his congenial nature so thick it reeked of fabrication. He prepared to speak again, when suddenly his gaze landed on her, and his stance eased, his eyes widening. “Major Ezra Stockton at your service, my lady.”
Greene stepped forward. “Major Stockton, this is Miss Young and her cousin, Mr. Young.” He looked to Hannah, then to the major once more. “Sir, these are the two I was telling you about.”
Stockton grinned, a sickening kind of attraction flaring through his expression as he took her in from head to foot. “A pleasure to meet you indeed.”
His voice unlocked the carefully guarded places she wished to keep hidden, snatching the phantoms by the throat and wielding them like the weapon they were. “Where is our uncle?”
Joseph’s hand suddenly gripped around her waist. “You must forgive my cousin. The journey has been —”
“Not at all.” Stockton put a hand to his chest and stepped back. “So many miles in so much cold. Nay, you both should come into the house immediately.”
Stockton tipped his head toward Greene. “Have Private Peterson care for their horses and bring in the trunks.” At this he turned back to Hannah, offering his elbow. She took it, and he started for the house. “I shall answer you, but first, I beg you to warm yourself by the fire.”
Hannah’s blood pounded in her ears. He spoke as if it were his home, his fire. She looked to Joseph, whose cautioning glance did little to buff away the scratching irritations she’d tried but failed to prepare for. God give her strength.
Stockton opened the door and motioned for her to enter, followed by Joseph before dripping his attentions on her once more. “You are surely chilled to the bone.”
Once inside, Hannah took quick stock of the parlor. Just as she’d left it, but for two kitchen chairs that had been positioned near the fire in the front room alongside the others. Was all the same in the rooms abovestairs? Her pained curiosity begged her to look to the kitchen, to see the place Ensign had first fallen by the ball that hit him, but she schooled an even expression and took the first seat Stockton offered.
Standing like the officer he was, the major took his place in front of the fire, his back to the warmth, one hand grasping his coat, the other resting at his side.
He looked to Greene, who was already joining them inside. “Major Stockton, I have a matter that—”
“Yes, yes.” Stockton’s amiability waxed cold only in his eyes. “My lieutenant tells me there is something I must address ere we discuss anything else.” Pausing, he allowed his stare to harden and linger. “He claims…he claims, Miss Young, that you were here several nights ago.”
Dear Lord.
“Here?” Hannah flung a glance to Joseph, who stood behind where she sat as if ready to pull her to safety. All the blood in her limbs retreated to her heart. Releasing a sprite laugh, she looked to Greene, then back to St
ockton. “Why, that is impossible, sir, as I have been traveling back from Salem.”
Greene and Stockton shared a brief communication that only their eyes could detect before Stockton faced her. He inclined his head. “I have trusted Greene for some time now, and if he says you are familiar to him, I am tempted to take his word. You see, there was a young woman here when we first arrived, and we’ve been most concerned, since she seems to have run away.”
Panic gripped her chest and refused to remove its claws. Lord, I pray thee… A brush of thought dislodged the stabbing, and she looked around before plaiting her face with sincere inquiry. “Do you mean Betsy?” The men glanced at each other, and she turned to Joseph. “Have you seen her?”
He shook his head, glancing around as if trying to distinguish any sign of this fabricated soul.
Stockton frowned politely, and she continued, praying the heaven-inspired idea would imprint upon their minds in place of everything else. “We hired a young woman to see to Uncle’s needs while we were away. I would have expected to see her, just as I expected to see my uncle, and thus far neither have yet to make an appearance. Why in heavens name would she run?” Laughing, Hannah relaxed her hands in her lap. “I daresay the arrival of your distinguished men in arms may have frightened her away. Do you not think so, Major?” Tilting her head at a shy slant, she prayed the man would accept her teasing.
Greene’s sharp stare cut from her to the major. “You hired a woman to care for your uncle while you were gone?”
“Aye.” She didn’t need to feign the sudden tightness in her voice. “He has just recently lost his wife, and we didn’t wish him to be alone.”
“I see.” Stockton’s face curled in a smile that would have seemed sincere had she not known the villainous truth that lingered behind the bars of his heart. He flung a glance to Greene that hurled so hard against him, he took a step back. “Forgive us. It seems this conflict with the Patriots makes us suspicious.”
“I do understand. ’Tis no matter.” She looked to Joseph. “’Twould seem it is difficult to acquire good help these days.”
So Pure a Heart (Daughters of His Kingdom Book 4) Page 9