The Scarlet Coat

by Angela Couch

  Stephen grunted. “Though our casualty count is rising again. At first this hole was bearable and they fed us well enough, but the temperature is on its way down, and men are becoming ill.”

  “We have lost one already, and young Phillip Stuart is not too far from joining him.” He pointed to a soldier lying on a pile of hay. “The winter is just beginning. One can hope they do not leave us here to freeze.”

  Andrew shook his head. “I overheard them saying they have plans to move us down river in the next few days. It seems I arrived in time.” He glanced away, trying to keep his expression passive.

  If only Rachel and Joseph had been left unaffected.

  ~*~

  Heart hammering, Rachel grabbed for the musket she’d hung back over the door. “God, help me.”

  “You’re not wanted here no longer!”

  “Go back to Britain!”

  With hands unsteady, she struggled to load. Some of the powder didn’t make it in the barrel, spilling on the floor. Hopefully there was still enough. The ramrod also fought her before slipping into place, pushing the ball and packing the powder. Gun ready, Rachel pressed against the door.

  The shouts and curses still assaulted her, but they seemed to have moved past the house.

  Rachel pulled the door open.

  Men with torches stood near the barn.

  The bellowing of cattle and frightened cries of the animals sounded as they erupted from the large doors and raced into the night. She held her breath in horror at the sight of their stock escaping in all directions. Moments later, brilliant flames leapt from the barn walls and a nearby stack of hay.

  “Stop!” Rachel raised the musket barrel into the air and squeezed the trigger. The explosion deafened her, its force pushing her back inside the cabin. Without pause, she grabbed another cartridge to reload.

  The ramrod was still in the barrel when some of the men charged the front of the cabin.

  She tried to shove the door closed with her shoulder, but a sudden thrust threw her backward. The musket was ripped from her grip by a large man as he barreled in.

  She tried to grab it. “Leave me alone, Cowden.”

  He pushed her back with a chuckle as he tossed the gun aside, and then lunged for her.

  Rachel darted to where a cast-iron skillet hung near the fireplace. Dodging behind the table, she wrapped her hand around the skillet’s handle, gripping it tight.

  Dancing flames highlighted his face. Cowden appeared possessed as he neared, seemingly unaware of her newfound weapon. He moved to trap her, the stench of alcohol foul on his breath. His hand grasped her free arm.

  Rachel cracked the skillet across his head.

  Cowden stumbled back, dazed.

  She raced for the musket near the door, just as another man appeared in the opening. Rachel threw herself forward to grab the barrel. Slamming against the floor, she rolled onto her back and swung the butt of the gun toward the second attacker.

  He caught it with his arm, grunting with pain, but somehow holding it fast.

  For the second time the gun was wrenched from her hands. Rachel cursed her long skirts as she attempted to stand. A foot tangled and she dropped to her knees. Sharp pain shot up both legs.

  Cowden, recovered from the strike, grabbed Rachel’s arms from behind, yanking her to her feet.

  She attempted to jerk away. “Why are you doing this?”

  “We don’t take kindly to Loyalists,” he growled. He pulled her around to face him. “We came for your brother, too. Where is he?”

  Rachel yelped in pain as the second man grabbed her hair, yanking her head around. “He’s got to be here somewhere, and you’ll make it a lot easier on yourself if you tell us.”

  “No.”

  He brought his knuckles across her face.

  Rachel’s mind reeled and tiny white sparks appeared behind her right eye. She closed it against the pain.

  “We don’t want to hurt you, girl. Just tell us what we want to know,” Cowden insisted.

  “What good will it do you? He’s not here.”

  “Where is he then?”

  “I don’t know.” Maybe it was a blessing Joseph hadn’t returned home earlier, despite her prayers. Perhaps the Lord was watching out for them. An unexpected calm washed over her as though a wave over a stone. Her chin rose to meet her aggressors. “You have no business on this farm. Please release me and leave.” Rachel met Cowden’s hard gaze.

  “You have a lot of spirit, girl, but that ain’t helping you none.” His hand slapped across her face.

  Something popped in her jaw, ripping it with agony. Her ears rang and her stunned body slumped into Rodney Cowden’s arms as the discharge of a musket reverberated through the night. She hit the floor as heavy boots pounded out a retreat to the door.

  “Get off this land!” a man’s voice bellowed from outside. “And don’t think of coming back.”

  “You got a lot of gall, Dan Reid,” Cowden shouted.

  “You’re the one who’s gone too far. The Garnets are innocent. How dare you harass them? I want you and the rest of your drunken buffoons off this land immediately. Do you hear me?”

  Cowden mumbled something and started toward his horse. “Come on, boys. We’re done here for now.”

  Rachel dragged herself to the open door.

  The mob pushed their horses to a gallop and vanished into the night. They were replaced as a group twice in number rode in from two directions.

  “Are you all right, Rachel?” Daniel jumped from his saddle. “What did they do to you?”

  “I’m fine.” She cradled her jaw in her palm. “What are you and your men here for, to burn my home, too?”

  “Rachel, we came to help.”

  “Haven’t you helped enough already?” She started toward the barn, now completely consumed in flame. Rachel stared as it burned—tears cool on warm cheeks. All the work her father and her brother, their family, had invested in that building would soon be reduced to a pile of ash.

  “I’m sorry, Rachel. I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”

  “Did you really expect you could step in here and dispose of Andrew without affecting anything else? Did you think with him out of the way I would be more eager to love you? Well, I’ll tell you this, Daniel Reid. I have never loved anyone as I do him, and taking him away didn’t change that, it merely destroyed the respect and friendship I once held for you.” Rachel stepped back from the heat.

  The front of the structure sagged, collapsed with a groan, and a burst of sparks and flame.

  “I admit I was jealous, but...” Daniel paused, his head dropping. “No, you’re right. There are no excuses. I was jealous and I made a terrible mistake—no matter what my reasoning. I know you will probably never forgive me, but I want you to know that I am sorry this whole thing was started.” He walked away.

  She was alone. The heat from the blaze singed her face, and Rachel turned to the cabin.

  Men worked to contain the fire. Others corralled the two cows, older calf and the three sows which had been in the barn. At least the horses and wagon were with Joseph.

  Matthias Adler moved near and set a hand on her arm. “Benjamin told me vhat happened yesterday. And now das...perhaps you come spend the night vith us?”

  Rachel managed a quick shake of her head that she immediately regretted as her neck twinged with pain. “Your offer is so kind...and tempting. But I should probably stay here.”

  He nodded. “I understand, though I am sure Marta will be more questioning. Vhy don’t you let us keep your stock for short vhile?”

  “You’d do that for us?” A sigh drained the last of the adrenaline from her veins. “I’m afraid without Joseph here I’m at a loss about what to do. I don’t even know what we could trade you for feeding them.”

  “Not to vorry about that. Our old cow has been scanty with the milk lately, and Marta is not happy. If vee keep part of your milk, it vill be fair.”

  “I can’t thank you enough.”<
br />
  He tipped his hat and moved away, instructing the other men to move the animals to his farm.

  Rachel slipped inside the cabin. She trekked across the floor, stumbling over the musket, seeking the lamp on the table. It had gone out. She reached for it only to jerk back in pain as a small trickle of blood ran warm down her hand. The glass chimney was broken. She found another lamp, and lit it. There was little comfort for her as the light created eerie shadows over the broken glass and overturned furniture. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Setting the lamp on the table, she moved to close the door.

  A cool breeze continued to find its way through the small window and her gaze shot toward the offending stone.

  Angrily, Rachel picked it up, opened the door, and heaved it into the night.

  There was a surprised yelp as Benjamin Reid jumped out of the way. “I was planning to knock.” His voice immediately became contrite. “I have some news.”

  “Where’s Joseph?”

  “He didn’t come back with us.”

  “What? Where is he? What happened?” Alarm constricted her ribs as her heart shifted to dread.

  “It seems news of what happened preceded us. Friedrich Schubert rode straight to the fort as soon as he heard there was a British spy in the area, and I’m afraid Colonel Gansevoort was not all too welcoming of Joseph. Everyone there already believed he was a Loyalist and a traitor.”

  34

  A blanket of dark blue still covered the earth as Rachel moved to where the blackened ash and rubble marked the former barn. If only this were a bad dream—she would wake, and everything would be made right. Her swollen eye and stiff jaw were painful reminders that it wasn’t a dream.

  A horse’s whinny brought Rachel’s head up.

  Joseph had taken both Hunter and Sorrowful, and he was not returning.

  Fighting the temptation to look, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “What do you want here?”

  “I know you too well to assume you won’t be trying to find a way up river,” Daniel said.

  She took a few steps away from him. “Don’t try and stop me.”

  “I didn’t come here to stop you. I came to help.” His contrite voice seemed to plead. “I brought you a mount.”

  Rachel locked her jaw and spun. The ache across the side of her face increased as she spoke through bared teeth. “I don’t want your help.”

  His gaze dropped. “I accept that. I know how much you hate me, and it’s warranted. All of this is my fault, but I can’t change the past, or what I did. Please let me try to set it right as best I can. I’ll help your brother. Pa told me you’re determined to do the same. I’ll lend you this horse if you allow me to escort you to Fort Schuyler in safety.”

  Rachel looked away. The thought of being in his company was revolting, but it could be days before she found another way to travel the twenty miles. Rachel let out her breath. “All right.” She turned back to the cabin. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

  ~*~

  Andrew ran his thumbs over the calluses that had formed on his palms. He had never done physical labor before, but it proved invigorating and satisfying. If only he could be there to help Rachel finish getting that stump out. He would have taken a lot of pleasure in that.

  “You have not said much about your recovery.” Stephen dropped down on the floor beside him. “In fact, you have been quite silent today.”

  “I am afraid I have been somewhat preoccupied in my thoughts.” Andrew folded his arms, tucking his hands out of sight.

  “As have I.”

  Maybe it was the whiskers and the somberness in his expression, but Andrew sensed a maturity that hadn’t been there before. “What about?”

  Stephen scratched his fingers through his hair. “How much I have wronged you.”

  “It was not—”

  “Please, I stated—confessed—that much, let me finish. I have had these two months to sit here and think about what I would say to you if you were still alive. It would be wrong to let all that consideration lay in waste.” Their gazes met and Stephen showed a thin smile. “After all, I was the one who almost killed you.”

  “Stephen—”

  His brother held up a hand. “Mother always indulged me in whatever I wanted, while you were given every responsibility. I never felt this unfair as you were the eldest and if Father had not wasted our wealth and land, the bulk would have been entitled upon you. It was only fitting that you bear the brunt of our misfortune.”

  “Nothing has changed.”

  “Perhaps, but it was not your duty to follow me here. You had no obligation, even as a brother. I know what you gave up for that uniform, and I want to make recompense.”

  Andrew shook his head. “There is nothing I need from you, but your safe return to England and—”

  Stephen rode over him. “You never wanted to marry Miss Grenville. I am not blind...though I wonder if she may be.”

  Ah, bitter truth. Something, perhaps that truth, felt wedged in his throat. “What does that have to do with anything? I have already given my word to the lady.”

  “But, if you were given the option of withdrawal?”

  Images of Rachel, her scent, her hair in the first rays of dawn, the taste of her breath as he leaned down to kiss her, assaulted him with overwhelming force. The muscles in his jaw tightened, making it hard to answer. “I suppose I could get myself killed.”

  His brother chuckled. “Nothing quite that desperate, Andrew.”

  He let a laugh rise, but it exited with the sound of a grunt. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Miss Grenville is a becoming creature, and her wealth only enhances that beauty. I shall marry her myself.”

  Andrew’s head snapped toward Stephen. “You?”

  “Why not? I thought we made quite a connection during our stay in Derbyshire. I imagine the only reason she accepted your proposal in the first place was due to my neglect.” He winked. “Trust me, Andrew. Everyone will be happier this way.”

  Especially me. And Rachel.

  “You are more affected by this than I imagined.”

  Andrew hardly heard him. He had to think of a way to remain here. A way to make Rachel Garnet his wife.

  “Is there someone else?”

  “Yes,” he said without thought.

  “Who?”

  His brother sat in an officer’s uniform. Even with the grunge that surrounded them now, Stephen would never understand the quality of Rachel Garnet.

  Neither would Andrew have, if not for the untainted vision the Lord had blessed him with at their first acquaintance. To see her as an equal—as she deserved to been seen. Instead of offering his memory of her to his brother’s mocking, Andrew protected her by saying nothing. He smiled. God willing, he would find a way to be with her. Please let it be within Thy will, Lord.

  The heavy door to their prison creaked on its large hinges, and Andrew was dragged back to the present.

  “Everyone up!” a guard shouted.

  Several more stepped past him, encouraging the men to their feet.

  “Where are you taking us?” Derek pushed to the front of the pathetic column forming.

  Andrew and Stephen joined him.

  “Albany,” the guard mumbled as he shoved them out of the door where more Continental soldiers waited. “Your General Burgoyne has surrendered to us the whole of his army. We’re sending you to join them. It’s time we got you off our hands.”

  ~*~

  Rachel stared up at the tall log walls. The fortress that may have once offered safety in case of British or Indian attacks, now filled her with foreboding. “Where do we go?” she questioned as they passed into the compound.

  Daniel indicated a building not far from the gate. “That’s were Colonel Gansevoort has his office, but I think it would be better if I go alone to begin with.”

  “No.”

  “Rachel. Please trust me on this. We need to get a feel for the situation before we plow ahea
d. It’s the only way to have straight furrows.”

  It sounded like something Joseph would say.

  “Fine, but make sure you come for me as soon as you learn anything.”

  “I promise.” Daniel dismounted and handed her his reins.

  As he disappeared into the building, a silent prayer pressed from Rachel’s heart toward the heavens. Her eyes rose to the unfamiliar flag hanging from a tall pole. The breeze caught it, causing the white and red stripes to dance, displaying small white stars against blue in the inside top corner.

  “It is quite the sight, isn’t it?”

  Startled, Rachel looked back to the officer who had spoken. He rode through the gate, flanked by another continental soldier. He reined his horse toward her.

  “What flag is that?”

  “Why, that’s our flag.”

  “Ours?”

  “These United States of America. Every country needs their own flag. There are thirteen stars to represent each state.”

  “And the other five flags?” They hung lower than the first.

  “Those are British flags we won in our last battle here.”

  Rachel’s gaze angled to the high flag. It waved so proudly. So freely. “There’s something grand about it, isn’t there?”

  “The grand thing is that it’s ours. And as far as I can tell, it seems to be blessed by the good Lord Himself. Why, even last week we took Saratoga and captured General Burgoyne and a large portion of his armies. This morning some of our soldiers are headed east to Albany with the prisoners we’ve been holding here the past few months.”

  Rachel’s head jerked to him. “Your British prisoners?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

  Her heart thudded. “When do they...when do they leave?”

  “They are loading onto the boats now.” He watched her close. “I just returned from there.”

  No. She’d seen men gathered at the boats, but had been too focused on the fort and what they would do to help Joseph. She’d hoped to see Andrew again, and now it was too late.

  “I’m afraid I have forgotten myself, ma’am. What’s your name?”