Naked in the Winter Wind

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Naked in the Winter Wind Page 52

by Dani Haviland


  I still wanted to know about Sarah, him, and me, and what we all had to do with each other. Something was niggling at the back of my mind, and it wasn’t the current situation, or rather situations, at hand.

  I tore three thin strips off the end of the cloth. The girl had cleaned the road dust off herself as best she could. Her frightened blue eyes peered out from behind a wayward tress of long, blond hair. Her face was pink, puffy, and lopsided, and it wasn’t that way solely from crying: it looked as if she had been hit recently. The skin was crimson on the left side, although it didn’t showing any sign of bruising yet.

  “Here, hold your arms out like this,” I said. I took a hasty measurement, folded the long length of cloth in half then once again sideways. I used the sheep shears to cut out a piece of the double folded corner. I opened out the makeshift dress and threw it over her head. I grabbed two of the short strips, tied them together, and made a belt for the ensemble. The third strip I used as a headband to pull her hair out of her face. The poor girl was shaking as I clothed her, her arms now held close across her belly. She was stunned, possibly in shock, sobbing silently, gulping air, and trying to steady herself.

  Simon very gingerly walked over to us. He held the vegetable tray that had been passed around earlier. It had been resupplied with little pinwheel sandwiches and tomato wedges. He held it out to the little girl and waited for her to take one. She looked up at him, wary of his motives. It appeared she wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to grab her when she reached for the food. Seeing her distrustful, frightened look, he put the tray down on a barrel top and moved away. She took two cautious steps to the food, then reached out and grabbed the whole plate, clutching it to her chest, cramming the little sandwiches into her mouth as fast as she could.

  “Whoa there, little lady,” I said and pulled the plate away. I didn’t want her to choke. “Don’t forget to chew before swallowing, all right?”

  She nodded her head twice, then went to the trough and cupped up water with her hands, quickly and efficiently swallowing her big mouthful of food. “It was a trap!” she exclaimed. She started crying again, but managed to spit out her words between gulps of air. “I hollered at them as they were riding by, but they didn’t hear me,” her head dropped low in shame, “or see me.”

  “Who didn’t see you, and what do you mean it was a trap?” I asked, hardly able to contain myself. I wanted to pick her up and shake out the answers, but resisted the urge.

  “You see, they let my brother Clyde escape so he could come and git the other big one. The first ones was just wantin’ the flour and to talk to the big red-haired man, but the captain, he wanted trouble, I could see that. He said he wanted to bring in the Big Red and the son, too, and then arrest ‘em both…and anybody else that had been listenin’ to ‘em.”

  “So how did you get out?” I asked. If they had let one person escape, maybe this was a trap, too.

  The young girl put her head down in embarrassment. She didn’t want to talk, but I wanted—needed—to know. I realized I had to get her confidence first. Evidently, feeding and clothing her weren’t enough. “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Jenny. And don’t go makin’ jokes about me bein’ a female jackass either,” she said defensively.

  “Okay, Jenny.” I paused to savor the name, hoping to earn her trust through flattery. “That’s a fine name. Did you know that’s the name of Big Red’s mother, too? I certainly wouldn’t think of teasing you about your name with his mother having the same one. He loves her very much.”

  “Oh,” she paused to think about it. “Really? Okay, I guess I can tell you, seein’ as you know him and his kin and all. The Redcoats stopped by the mill yesterday and decided they was gonna take all the flour for theyselves. But the man they called Mac was there, and the miller and Clyde and me and my t’other brother, Clayton, and a couple t’others, too. Well, Mac said they couldn’t just be takin’ what weren’t theirs. I guess he and t’others had been readin’ that paper about liberty and stuff. So the Redcoats, they say they’re gonna shoot ‘em all, but I don’t think they really wanted to do it. So they just tied ‘em up and took all the flour and started loadin’ it into a wagon. One of the men that was there at the mill—Mac’s friend, I think—he rannned off, and so two of the soldiers took off and chased him, but I don’t think they ever caught him.

  “Then this afternoon, the Big Red and the one they called the Turncoat—he’s a little man, but kinda pretty—they showed up. Clyde took ‘em aside and told ‘em he knew a way they could all sneak out if one of ‘em could addle the soldiers. So Big Red, he just starts talkin’ to the Redcoats. And the soldiers, they was about to let everybody go and just keep the flour and the wagon, when another Redcoat come in. He said he was a captain, and he was in charge now. He was mean and ugly, and said they was still gonna keep the flour and the—the sons of liberty, I think he called us—they would have to pay the tax, or they would all get dee ported!

  “Well, the first soldiers just wanted the flour, so they took it, and most all of them went off. That only left the two soldiers there with the captain to watch ‘em all. Clyde was all set to slip out—he didn’t want to get dee ported either—but Big Red asked him if when he left, would he follow this here road,” Jenny pointed to the road she had just come down, “and tell his son to come back with help. But he said to make sure he brought back the kegs or cakes or somethin’ like that. But I’m not sure Clyde got that part. He’s not too bright and can’t remember two things at once. But I know’d he got out and come down the right road ‘cause I just saw him headin’ back to the mill. But he musta forgot about t’other part, ‘cause he didn’t have no cakes with ‘em. And, and…”

  Little Jenny started crying again and couldn’t talk, and I was losing patience. “And what?” I asked sternly.

  “After he left, the big ugly captain told one of t’other soldiers to stay outside and watch to make sure Clyde got away. And to let him know when he got back with the, the son, and then they would line ‘em up and shoot both the Big Red and his son. And he wasn’t just talkin’ like t’others, he really meant it!”

  I fell back hard against the center post of the barn and slid down in what felt like a controlled faint with consciousness, if there even was such a thing. “Oh, shit,” I said.

  “Yeah, oh shit is right!” Jenny agreed. “So I wanted to hurry up and catch Clyde and tell him it was a trap, but I couldn’t just run out, me still bein’ a prisoner and all. But you see, the ugly captain, he took to starin’ at me, wantin’ to set real close to me. He came up to me and started runnin’ his hand down the side of my face, and then down to my neck and, and... Well, the Big Red told him to take his filthy hands off-a me, but the captain, he just laughed, then kicked him real hard. I thought he hurt him real bad, but he didn’t because then there was some scufflin’ and next thing ya know, the Big Red has his knee in the captain’s throat. But then t’other soldier came by and kicked Big Red in the head, and he rolled over and didn’t wake up.”

  I was even more stunned, wide-eyed with wonder and worry.

  Jenny paused to look over at me. “He wasn’t dead, though, I checked—you see, they hadn’t tied me up.” Jenny was concerned about me and made sure I knew that Jody was going to be okay. “But I bet he has a big headache when he wakes up. But then the captain, he starts rubbin’ his hands on me again, and then I get an idea.”

  Jenny’s voice changed. She continued, but was obviously embarrassed about what she was saying. “I watched a woman do a dance once, and it made the men just stare, and they couldn’t even move, except their hands was on their…you know, stuff, and then she took all their money, so I figured that maybe I could do somethin’ like that. So I tell t’other soldier why don’t he put down his gun, and I’ll do a dance for the both of ‘em. But I told him that they can’t touch me. The captain, he don’t like that much, and he smacks me upside the head for bein’ sassy. But t’other soldier, he’s got the rifle, and he says
he wants to watch, so fer him to keep his paws off-a me.

  “So I start dancin’ around a little, and my brother Clayton, he starts to holler and tells me don’t do it. But then the captain punches him real hard, and then he don’t talk no more. I don’t think he got killed, though, ‘cause he kept groanin’. So I start doin’ the dance, and the miller and Mac just cover their eyes and start prayin’, but I tell ‘em I’m gonna be all right.

  “Then the captain says I have to take off my clothes. So I take off my dress, and he says I have to take off my shift, too. I can see he’s gettin’ all worked up, so I tell him he has to take off his clothes, too, if I’m gonna take off mine. Well, he starts to do that, and that’s when the other soldier had to hit Mac and the miller to get ‘em, get ‘em, quiet.

  “So the soldier takes off all his clothes first, and I think he wants to do the nasty with me, but the captain says he has to wait. I didn’t want to take off my shift, but the captain smacks me, and says that if I don’t, well then, he’s gonna do it for me, and cut me, too! So I take off my shift…and he pulls down his pants and, and…”

  Jenny paused. I looked up at her, throat tight with terror. It felt like an iron fist was squeezing my heart.

  “And I ran like hell!” she bragged. “They had their pants down, and there was only two of them. One of ‘em had to stay with the prisoners. I heard ‘em yellin’ and arguin’ as I was runnin’ away, about who was gonna do the chasin’ and who was gonna do the stayin’. I was flyin’ down that road, hopin’ to catch up with Clyde on the way back from fetchin’ the Big Red’s son, but then, then, I got a bit bashful ‘cause I didn’t have on no clothes, and I hid in the bushes when I heard the horses comin’. I thought they might be more soldiers again ‘cause there was more than just two. By the time I got back out on the road and saw it was them with a lady, they was already gone. They was ridin’ real fast! I didn’t know what to do, and then somebody almost hit me with a rock, and then I saw you. I wasn’t afraid of you ‘cause you was a woman, and really, I was just too tired and too sad to care about anythin’.”

  With her last revelation, I realized the need to take quick action. “Okay, so what we have is five men tied up and kicked around. Hey, where was Julian, the pretty Turncoat, during all of this?” I was afraid that something had happened to him that she hadn’t revealed.

  “Oh, him? The first Redcoats, they stuffed him into a flour sack and said they was gonna beat him with a stick. But they shoved him out back and forgot all about him when they left. It’s a good thing, too, I think, or he would be back with those Lobsterbacks, and I don’t think they like Turncoats too much.”

  “Thank you, Lord,” I said softly and got up from the barn’s dirt floor. I brushed off my skirts, now ready to get back into boss lady mode. “So, right now Julian is safe because they don’t even know he’s around. That leaves Clayton, Jody, Mac, the miller, and his friend—that’s five—and Clyde, Wallace, and Sarah—three more—are on the way.” I enumerated the captives, or soon to be captives, on my fingers. “Eight. Ho, boy. But you say that there’re only three soldiers?”

  “Well, no; that’s the bad part,” she said. I tipped my head and looked her in the eye, urging her to continue. “I saw six more coming in from t’other way when I was runnin’ to catch up with Clyde. That makes ten.”

  “No, three and six makes nine, but that’s still a lot of men for you and me to overpower if Wallace, Sarah, and Clyde get captured.”

  I paused for a moment, waiting for inspiration. “Cakes; what did you say about Jody and cakes?”

  “I don’t know if he said cakes or kegs,” Jenny said. “Why would he be wantin’ food or whisky at a time like this?”

  “Oh, oh, oh! Yes!” I burst into grin. “He said kegs! We have lots of kegs: kegs of gunpowder. Simon, we need you to drive us up to the mill in the wagon. Before we actually get there, though, I’m going to do a little sabotage. I may not have C4, but I do have gunpowder, fuses, and a plan. I’m going to do a bit of distraction and diversion while you, little Missy, sneak back in and cut loose the hostages. Those Redcoats won’t even know what hit them.”

  It was first things first, though: I needed to take care of my little family. Right now, that meant I needed to have a talk with Mrs. Donaldson. I walked up to the house and saw that José, Pastor Lawrence, and pretty much everybody who could walk except for Mrs. Donaldson, were outside playing catch with a rag ball. I waved to them, then ventured in through the open front door, my emotions as tangled as an eagle’s nest.

  “I need to ask a big favor,” I said to my bosom buddy, my heart rising to my throat, nearly choking off my words before I could say them. Mrs. Donaldson looked at me as if I was sick, but I held up my hand for her to let me finish. “I have to run a little errand, and I’m not sure how long I’ll be. Could you and Hannah take care of my babies? I mean, you’d have to feed them if I didn’t get back in time, but…but...”

  My words were failing, fumbling out because I was now looking at all three of my babies, sound asleep in their little playpen next to the larger George and Nathanael Donaldson. I sucked it up and continued, “They shouldn’t be too much trouble. I just have to take this little girl back to her family. I’m not sure how long I’ll be, and she doesn’t feel comfortable going with a man, so if the babies need feeding, do you think that you...”

  Mrs. Donaldson interrupted me with a compassionate hand on my shoulder. “Of course, my dear; we already know about the shawl trick now, don’t we? My boys can have some porritch if they get hungry. It might make their messes stink, but they’re gonna have to start eatin’ it sooner or later anyhow. You just go on and take care of that little girl. Oh, here she comes now.”

  I turned around and saw Jenny in the doorway. She glanced sideways then turned her complete attention to the pen full of babies. “Are they all yours?” she asked, her mouth hanging open.

  “No, no, only the three little ones; the two bigger ones are hers. Mrs. Donaldson,” I nodded the introduction.

  “Wow. Are they comin’ with us?” Jenny asked, her eyes as big as teacups.

  “Oh, no; they’ll stay here with me. Are you ready to get back to your family?” asked Mrs. Donaldson.

  Jenny looked over at me for an answer, and I dipped my head slightly in acknowledgment. “Yes, ma’am, I’m ready,” she replied. She turned to me and asked, “Can we leave now, uh, ma’am?”

  I realized that I had never told Jenny my name. I grimaced slightly and tried to recover with the words, “Yes, let’s go. Thank you, Mrs. Donaldson.”

  The two of us scurried out of the house, then almost ran to the barn. “My name is Evie,” I said when we got inside. I grabbed two of the long boxes containing the rifles and ammunition from under the loft, set them on the tailgate of the wagon, and pushed them under the seat. I showed Jenny where the kegs of gunpowder were. “Here, these need to go into the back of the wagon.”

  These kegs were the goods received from my gold nugget necklace trade with Captain Asshole, the taxman. I was pretty sure he knew his lamebrained accomplices had gunpowder in their wagon of stolen goods, but he had let the valuable commodity go in trade. Gold lust will do that to a person. Besides, he probably figured he’d just get more of it down the road. However, I was pretty sure he didn’t know that what he had was state of the art—for 1781—ammo propellant. Jody had marveled at the texture of this new powder; it was very consistent and didn’t clump. I grunted as I lifted one of the kegs onto the wagon tailgate.

  “Simon, would you help her load these?”

  Simon had been busy while we were in the house. The team was ready—it never had been unhitched—but he had watered the horses and given them hay. Now, the man with the scholar’s soft hands was hefting kegs of gunpowder to the little girl in the wagon. Jenny was strong for her petite size, and was managing quite well, maneuvering the kegs by rolling them on their rims to the front of the wagon. “Don’t bump those into each other or anything else,” I warned. “An
d would you ride here in back and make sure they don’t move?” I didn’t know how explosive the kegs were, but I didn’t want to find out until I was ready.

  I ran into the corner of the barn and dug out the spool of fuse cord and the lighter from my secret cache. I had left the two items together for rushed times such as this. I patted my pockets and made sure I still had my Leatherman and the smartphone. I grabbed the shovel and carefully placed it next to the six kegs of gunpowder. “I think a six-pack should be enough to get this party rolling. Come on, Simon; let’s go.”

  I climbed into the wagon. “Here, you drive,” I said as I handed the reins to him, “I still haven’t got the hang of these two-horse powered vehicles.”

  A cosmic pulse of déjà vu throbbed as soon as the words were out of my mouth. It felt as if Simon and I had been out driving around the countryside together once before.

  It was too noisy for conversation while riding in the wagon on a rocky road, but I couldn’t help staring at him. He must have felt my eyes on him, though, because he turned to look at me. “Later,” he said simply, returned his focus forward, and flicked the reins, urging the horses to speed up.

  We rode in an uncomfortable silence for half an hour. Simon never said a word nor looked in my direction again. Jenny rode quietly, too, scanning the roadside, absorbed in her own thoughts. I made good use of the time cutting fuse cord, and praying—for inspiration, and for the safety of our friends and families.

  “Here, here!” Jenny called out suddenly, pointing to a little pullout on the side of the road. “We can’t ride up past here or they’ll see us.” She turned around and looked at the armament, scowling. “Master Simon told me these would explode. How do you make them do that?”

  It was a valid question. I guessed Simon—she called him Master Simon, so I supposed he had introduced himself earlier—must have given her a brief lesson on explosives. “Leave that part to me. Now, help me bring those around here.”

 

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