The Scarlet Coat

by Angela Couch

  “Rachel, you know I wasn’t talking about Pa. But the Lord did bless us with a good harvest, and for that we should be grateful.”

  “We should be grateful for this day, as well.” Fannie moved beside him, until her shoulder brushed against his arm. “It’s often raining or threatening snow already, but that sun is as warm as ever. Which is good, seeing as hardly a person has done harvest because of how wet it was last month.”

  Joseph glanced up at the cloudless sky. “Well, we’re ready for winter now, so we might as well enjoy the sun while it lasts.”

  “I agree.” Daniel pivoted on the basket to face Rachel. “I was wondering if you wanted to go for a ride after dinner. Joseph already said they could manage without us for a short while.”

  Uncertainty fluttered within her, but she braced against it. “I suppose that would be fine, if Joseph is sure.” She glanced to her brother.

  Joseph nodded, his lips not keeping his desire to smile a secret.

  “Good.” Daniel grinned. “There’s something I’ve been hoping to show you.”

  Rachel forced the corners of her mouth to turn upwards. “I should go pull the cobs away from the fire, they’re probably done boiling by now.” She hurried back to the house to finish preparation for dinner. Five minutes later she called everyone in for the feast.

  Everyone but Andrew came, though his absence was most likely purposeful.

  After she finished, Rachel fixed him a plate, and then turned to Joseph. Usually he made the deliveries between house and barn.

  “Can I come with you?” Fannie was at her arm. “That’s for him, isn’t it?”

  Rachel nodded as Joseph and Daniel headed back to the bushels of corn still waiting. “All right.” She led the way, stalling just inside the barn door.

  Andrew stood, keeping company with the cow, his crutch leaned nearby. He stiffened as they approached. His stoic gaze moved from Rachel to Fannie and back again. It lingered on her, his pine-needle green eyes narrowing, but not in an unpleasant way. They seemed to twinkle.

  “Good day, ladies.” The corners of his mouth showed amusement as he bowed. “Would you introduce us, Miss Garnet?”

  “May I present Miss Fannie Reid, Mr. Reid’s sister?” It was too easy to fall into his speaking patterns. She motioned to him, grateful he was watching Fannie so she could study him for this moment. Oh, how she missed him in the cabin, their conversations. “And this is Mr.—or Captain Andrew Wyndham.”

  Poor Fannie looked in shock. “It’s a—a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  Andrew inclined his head. “The pleasure is mine.” The creases in his cheeks deepened.

  Rachel extended the plate. “We brought you some dinner.”

  “I am sorry to have inconvenienced you.” Their fingers brushed as he took it.

  She retreated a pace.

  He looked back to Fannie. “It has become my habit to refrain from making appearances when company calls. I am afraid I can be quite unsocial. But then, that is probably for the best. Your brother, for one, hardly approves of my presence.”

  “You’re not anything like I expected.” Fannie smiled, her eyes wide.

  Andrew chuckled. “I almost dread asking what it was you were anticipating. I presume that is why you followed Miss Garnet out here—to ascertain for yourself what a Redcoat is like up close. You had only to ask Miss Garnet, for she could give a very clear description, as well as many interesting details.” He glanced at Rachel, and then turned completely away, leaning into the gate, staring at the cow whose only desire appeared to be a nibble of a cob of buttered corn. Andrew held it out of her reach. “My apologies, Miss Reid, I fear I am at a lack for many of the finer social graces. I am no longer well-rehearsed at entertaining.”

  “No, sir. We are sorry to have disturbed you.” Rachel mimicked his tone. “It is plain to see you are very busy. Perhaps we should call again at a more congenial hour.” She walked to him and held out the fork. “We will leave you to your dinner. Have a good day, Captain Wyndham.” She made a quick curtsy.

  He took the fork. “Goodbye, Miss Garnet. Miss Reid.” He looked past them as their brothers appeared in the doorway. Andrew acknowledged the newcomers, but said nothing.

  Daniel barely looked at him as he extended his arm. “Are you ready, Rachel? The wagon’s waiting.”

  With one final glance at Andrew, she moved to Daniel and allowed him to lead her from the barn.

  ~*~

  Andrew refused to watch them walk away. Instead, he turned to Fannie and removed the edge from his voice. “I am sorry for my performance. Miss Garnet and I do not share the most affable relationship as of late, but it is better for me to not relate the circumstance. She is a fine woman. Your brother is a fortunate man.”

  “It is kind of you to say so.” Fannie’s eyes darted to Joseph, who took a step nearer.

  “If you would like, we have a few bushels of corn left to husk. You could join us on this side of the cabin.”

  “I would be glad to give a hand.” Andrew nodded to the couple as they left, and hurried with his food, more hungry for conversation. Once his plate was clean, he reached for his crutch—then paused, his hand retracting. A little independence for once. He straightened his back and strode out to join the others. He did his best to limp as little as possible, ignoring any discomfort.

  Fannie studied him as he approached, her dark eyes glowing with curiosity. “I was told you were a pastor back in England.”

  Andrew seated himself on a chair they had brought from the cabin. “Not quite. But I had been offered a parish.”

  “What happened?”

  He took some corn in hand and analyzed it, glancing to Fannie and Joseph for an example of how to remove its husk. As he started stripping back layers from the deep yellow kernels, he forced his face to remain passive. “I ran away to become a soldier instead. It seemed one of Britain’s colonies had become revolutionary, and King George needed more soldiers to bring them back into submission.” He raised a brow at the look of horror on her face.

  Joseph’s expression only showed amusement.

  Andrew cleared his voice. “You see, in England we still have a great love for our king, whom your government has named a tyrant. Inconceivable. Can you imagine the rage we felt at such insults? I even read that Declaration of Independence, or whatever it’s called—a whole list of insults and accusations against the king.” Andrew paused for a moment to watch Fannie, a breath away from laughing outright. He lowered his voice to build the suspense. “I shall tell you what we resolved to do. We British told ourselves that we could either go across the ocean and put them back in their place, or—”

  Joseph released a burst of laughter.

  Andrew sent him a look of disapproval. “Sir, if you must remove yourself, then please do so. You are interrupting my tale. How do you expect this young lady to take me at all serious if you drown me out with that insufferable noise? You colonists can be quite barbarous.” He turned back to Fannie. “As I was saying, we could either go across the ocean and put them in their place...or simply join them.” He sent his best withering glance towards Joseph. “I have yet to decide which one I wish to do, but at the moment I am more inclined toward the first. There is at least one colonist in dire need of humbling.”

  “And you expect to accomplish that by yourself?” Joseph challenged.

  “Do not underestimate me, sir.”

  Joseph held up his hands. “Fine. But I must say this for your story, it’s more entertaining than what you told me. Now stop performing for the lady. She’s already spoken for.”

  Fannie looked to Joseph, color touching her cheeks as pleasure filled her eyes.

  He simply smiled.

  She again addressed Andrew. “Did you always want to be a soldier?”

  “No, I never did. It was for my brother I went—or rather, came. He was barely nineteen and my mother was concerned for his safety. He is quite a few years younger than I, and has a talent for finding tr
ouble. She begged me to watch over him.” Frustration burned in his chest. “Instead, I got myself shot, and now I have no way of knowing where he is. I can only hope he remains alive and is with our troops.”

  Fannie’s motions relaxed as she continued with her work. “What do you plan to do when you’re well enough?”

  “I must find my brother. After that...” He sighed, dropping the naked cob into a basket. He didn’t want to think about after that.

  27

  Rachel gazed across the pleasant valley walled by rolling hills and forested areas.

  Daniel pulled the wagon to a stop not far from the stream which flowed with a hushed murmur. He jumped to the ground, and then helped Rachel down. Nearby, a small cabin stood silent, neighbored by a barn and empty corrals.

  “The Becker homestead.”

  Daniel nodded. “Mrs. Becker took her family back to Albany.”

  “It’s a pity they had to leave. They chose a beautiful spot.”

  At her words, a smile brightened his face. Taking Rachel’s hand, he directed her around the wagon and away from the stream. “The cabin’s in fine shape for now, but in another year or so I’d like to build a house—an actual frame house.” He turned back to face her. “Yes, it’s mine now. I traded supplies and funds for their journey back east.” Daniel’s smile faded as he peered into her eyes. “You must realize though, it could never be complete without you. It could never be a home.”

  Her heart squeezed, and she searched for something to say.

  His gaze held too much expectancy.

  “Daniel, I...”

  “I’m aware it might seem as if I’m rushing things, but we’ve known each other for more than four years now and it’s been hard to take my eyes off you for the last three.” He chuckled. “I don’t know what more a man could want from a wife, or even a friend.” His dark eyes remained locked with hers as he slipped to one knee. Daniel tightened his hold on her hand. “Rachel, I’m asking you to marry me.”

  The breeze against the grass and the distant song of sparrows were the only sounds as she stared at the hope and desire mingled in his expression. He was right. This felt too rushed. She wasn’t ready. Rachel’s lower lip gave an involuntary tremble as he regained his feet and pulled her close. His mouth moved for hers, but she turned her head away. He pressed his face against her cheek. “Rachel, you know I love you.”

  She nodded. There was no doubting that. “I’m not saying no, but I need time to decide.”

  “That is all I ask,” Daniel breathed. “I will wait as long as you need.”

  “I’ll try to answer you soon.”

  His arm encircled her, and she allowed hers to do the same, resting her head against his shoulder. The rise and fall of his chest marked the moment and filled her with the sudden desire to reach up and let him to kiss her. What was wrong with allowing him to love her? To show that love? She would learn to return it. He was a good man. And she liked him. Wasn’t that enough for now? Slowly Rachel cocked her head back.

  Daniel needed no more encouragement. He leaned down, burying her mouth with his own, his lips warm and fervent in their declaration.

  Rachel’s chest constricted with the thousand opposing desires. Part of her wanted to drown in his arms and forget about everything, including her own feelings. She did not love him, and it was not his face she pictured as she kissed him.

  Daniel’s hand swept across her collar as it encircled her neck. The course piece of wool from the scarlet coat seemed to scorch her skin. It was Andrew Wyndham she wanted. She gasped for a breath and spun from Daniel.

  “Rachel? What did I...?”

  She started away, not even heading in the direction of the wagon. She didn’t care where she went. She just needed to walk.

  “Rachel?” Daniel caught her arm, compelling her to stop. “What did I do wrong?”

  “Nothing. I only...I don’t know if I’m ready for this. I need time to think.”

  “You’re not angry with me?” The relief in his voice tore at her conscience.

  “No, I’m not angry. Why would I be?”

  “I love you, Rachel.”

  “Then give me time.” Her fingers pressed against her collar and the swatch of cloth over her heart. “A little more time.”

  ~*~

  Rachel rolled onto her side. She’d stuffed the mattress with fresh straw, and yet every lump pressed against her weary body. She shifted onto her stomach and buried her head in the pillow. Sleep evaded her. Returning to her back, Rachel stared at the dim shadows of the rafters.

  Dawn would arrive, and with it a thousand things requiring her attention: meals to prepare, animals to feed, food to preserve.

  Joseph planned to butcher one of the hogs and would need her help. Then all the meat would have to be cut, salted, and hung in the smokehouse. The other cow still had its calf on, but required milking to help with a touch of mastitis.

  And Daniel would be stopping by sometime in the morning. Would she have an answer to his proposal? How could she even consider it with Andrew still here? Maybe after he left, given time…

  Rachel needed sleep, but notwithstanding the work that waited, she wanted dawn. She shot a glance at Joseph’s sleeping form, jealous of his soft snore. She pushed the blankets aside and got up. Pulling her shawl from the bedpost she tiptoed to the pitcher of water on the table. She poured some into a cup, but the lukewarm liquid did little to calm her mind.

  Moonlight shone in the windows with silent invitation. Slipping on her shoes, Rachel escaped into the yard. She wandered through the fields, her thoughts abstract. Still, green eyes and a warm smile made her insides ache. A hundred if-onlys played a mournful song on her heartstrings.

  The barn door made a soft creak as it opened. The milk cow looked at her. Rachel made her way to the steep stairs leading to the loft. They sang baritone with each step, as though telling her to turn back. All was silent in the small room and she moved across the floor to sink into the chair opposite the bed.

  Andrew slept, his breathing heavy.

  The sound washed her with nostalgia. How many nights had she sat listening? It filled her with comfort. He was here, alive and well. What else mattered? Leaning back, Rachel never took her eyes from his shadowed form. “I never meant to hurt you that day,” she whispered. “I’ve never thought of you as anything less than a man. A man any woman would dream of calling her own.” Out of habit one hand stole up to the collar of her nightgown, yet the small piece of scarlet fabric was no longer there. How could it be? It was already in her hand.

  ~*~

  Something beyond his memories and the dreams. Andrew’s mind reached for consciousness. He opened his eyes to the dark and shivered. The temperature continued to drop a little more each night. He would need another quilt tomorrow. Or to leave. He rolled onto his side, and began rearranging the blankets to better ward off the chill. His motions froze. Across from him sat Rachel, her arms hugging a shawl, her head flopped back against the wall.

  “Why have you come?”

  She remained asleep.

  Perhaps he needed to pinch himself. He must still be dreaming. No. This was something his fantasies had never considered. He had never let them...could not let them. He wanted too dearly for her to care and to be free to care in return. Could that be the reason she had come? Surely there was some other explanation.

  Pushing all hope and desire from his mind, Andrew rose to his feet. He wrapped the quilts around her shoulders and tucked them up around her neck. His fingers brushed her chin. And lingered. He moistened his lips. They felt dry and chapped. Then, ever so slowly, Andrew bent down and pressed his mouth to her hairline.

  Rachel stirred, but remained asleep.

  Andrew heaved a breath. He could not drag his gaze from her, the pain in his center almost surpassing anything his hip had known. What now? I cannot stay here any longer and feel this way. I love her, Lord. Thou knowest how hard I have tried not to.

  Not bothering with his crutch, Andrew
went down the stairs. He found his way to the large stack of hay and dropped to his knees beside it, digging deep before he grasped the thick fabric and pulled the coat free. He struggled to his feet, staring at his past.

  How could I let myself forget? Andrew slipped his arms into the sleeves and pulled it on. It fit perfectly. It knew its owner. He brushed the crimson cloth, smoothing its wrinkles and dusting away the dried grass.

  Duty.

  He moved to the door only to collapse against the wall beside it. His vision blurred. How could he have forgotten the image so very clear to him now? The first day he had donned his regimentals. He had gone directly to Miss Grenville. “You need not wait for me,” he had told her, releasing her from their engagement.

  “I am not a capricious female, Mr. Wyndham. I have given you my word to become your wife.”

  “It could be years.” Andrew had shaken his head, not wanting her to waste her youth. “Suppose I am unable to return?”

  Her delicate chin rose in defiance. “I refuse to consider that eventuality, so you simply must return.”

  ~*~

  Rachel opened her eyes to the soft lowing of a cow and the gentle rhythm of milk striking the sides of a pail. She jerked to her feet, ingesting the rude surroundings. The cot across the small room was abandoned, its blankets now draped across her shoulder. “Oh, my!” She gripped her shawl, the quilts shedding to the floor as she scrambled through the door. Her feet faltered at the top of the stairs.

  Andrew sat beside the milk cow on a small stool, his hands somewhat clumsily at work. He didn’t turn to her, but it was impossible that he was unaware of her presence.

  With face flaming, she bolted down the steps and out the door, headlong into Joseph.

  He caught her shoulders. “Careful.” His gaze dropped to her attire, or lack thereof. “What are you doing out here in your nightclothes?”

  “Nothing.” Rachel writhed away from him, racing to the protection of the cabin’s walls. She fell into her bed, breathing hard. What had she done?