The Scarlet Coat

by Angela Couch

  “I know.” She pressed her hands over her face, covering a yawn.

  “Come inside and eat something. We’ll find some place for you to sleep.”

  “Thank you. I don’t think I could eat anything. Not tonight.”

  He nodded and moved away.

  She followed, but slower. Lord, please keep them safe, but if not... “God, give me strength.”

  Rachel sat for a long time near the fire as she prayed. Later she was led to a small room above the office with a cot piled with blankets. She buried herself under the covers to ward off the chill resonating from her center. “God, give me sufficient strength,” she mumbled over and over, hour after hour. “Bring them back to me.” She had finally begun to doze when a shout pulled her upright and to the tiny window.

  Torches and lanterns lit the compound as men and horses seeped through the gates.

  “Andrew.”

  Rachel ran down the stairs, her mind still fuzzy. Near the gate, she searched the ones making their way past.

  Many of the soldiers carried or supported a wounded comrade. Still their numbers lacked. Hardly a horse was mounted, corpses draped over the saddles. One animal carried three of their fallen, but all wore uniforms. Where were Joseph and Andrew?

  “I’m sorry, miss,” an officer said as he passed by.

  She spun, grabbing his sleeve. “What do you mean? Where is my brother and Captain Wyndham?”

  “Rest assured your brother is fine, only winged. He wasn’t far behind. And your captain...” The man glanced away, his head shaking. “He probably saved the lives of most of these men.” He turned. “I have to report.”

  Rachel’s pulse drowned out the soldiers surrounding her.

  Shadows appeared as two more horses emerged through the gate. Joseph rode Hunter, swaying with each step of the animal. He clasped his left arm. Beside him, Daniel led a second animal, a body draped over its back.

  “Andrew?” Dirt and blood matted his reddish-brown locks, with dark streaks trailing down his neck and face. How could you do this to us, Lord? Her fingers brushed his cheek as she sank to the ground. “God, give me strength...” I can’t bear this on my own. Only his left arm dangled above his head, and she reached for his hand.

  Daniel set a hand on her shoulder, his touch hesitant. “I checked him just before we came in. He’s not dead. At least, not yet. I honestly don’t know if he’ll even make it another hour, never mind the night.” His head bowed. “I’m sorry.”

  Rachel stared, her mind churning as hope pressed against her chest. “But he could. If the Lord has kept him alive this long, perhaps He will give us another miracle.”

  Joseph came beside her. “We can only hope.” He followed her gaze as it moved to his arm, wrapped in a strip of crimson saturated cloth above his elbow. “Caught a Mohawk arrow, but don’t worry about it. I’m fine. We need to get Andrew inside and find a physician for him.”

  “I have already seen to that.” Gansevoort’s voice startled Rachel. He looked grim. “I gave orders for Captain Wyndham to be seen to right away. I was told what he did, and the effect it had on Brant’s men. I figure we owe him now.”

  “Thank you,” Rachel said.

  What had he done?

  Joseph stood beside her, holding his wounded arm as Daniel and one of the soldiers dragged Andrew from the horse. They carried him to the room the colonel had designated. Fresh scarlet showed on the wadded cloth strapped over his wound.

  As soon as they laid him out on the cot, she dropped to his side, pushing his hair away from his ash-white face.

  His breathing was shallow, almost undetectable.

  Panic clawed at her insides. “Where is that surgeon?”

  “I’m right here.” A man hurried through the door, pushing past Joseph and Daniel. “We need clean bandaging and boiling water.” He glanced at Rachel. “Please see to that.”

  “Of course.” The words were scraped from her lungs as she forced herself away from Andrew.

  ~*~

  Hours later, seated on a low stool beside Andrew’s cot, Rachel set her head on the pillow, nestling it against Andrew’s head. Her hand rested over his heart, its weak, though constant beat, and the slight rise and fall of his chest making it possible for her to close her eyes and rest. “You insane, wonderful man.”

  She’d been told that when the Iroquois had first heard his British reveille, the assault had eased, everyone looking for a British advance. When a retreat had sounded instead, and on the other side of the creek, no less, Brant and his men faltered, giving the Continental soldiers time to retreat through the gap opening on the rise, and to form a strong offensive. With evening approaching, Brant and his warriors soon withdrew. The Continental Army had sustained a blow, with eight men killed and twenty-three wounded, but how much worse would it have been?

  “Please don’t leave me again. It feels as though I’ve lost you so many times already, I don’t know how I’d survive another goodbye.” She ran a finger along his hairline. “Don’t worry. No matter what happens, I won’t turn from God this time. I could not bear to. It would be like giving up all I have left of you.” Rachel slid her hand under the blanket. His skin was warmer that it had been, but not feverish. A good sign. “I need you both so dearly.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek, and then leaned back down. “I love you, Andrew Wyndham.”

  ~*~

  The darkness surrounded him, drowning him, pulling him away from the sound of her voice. Andrew fought for breath, suffocating. Why was it so painful? What had happened to him? Her words faded now, but her scent lingered. Something brushed his jaw, pressing near the corner of his mouth.

  “I love you.”

  Rachel? Why was it so hard to focus? Why did he feel as though he were slipping away from her? Was he...? His thoughts froze on the realization. He was dying. Andrew fought the haze. He couldn’t let it take him yet. Lord, give her strength to accept Thy will. Help her stay near Thee, please. That is all I ask. I only wish I could stay here for her when she needs me most. Focused on his breath, he deepened it despite the stabbing agony invoked. Anything to prolong his time. If only he had enough to say goodbye. I do not want to say goodbye, Lord. Not to her—not ever again. Were those his eyes that burned with unshed moisture? If he was capable of tears, perhaps he could force his lids open. To see her one last time. A flickering light met his attempts. He blinked back the clinging mists and willed his head to turn. Barely, but enough to make out the side of her face, so close to his own.

  Her hair lay across the pillow, strands of gold and honey escaping a braid. What would it have been like to wake every morning to this vision and her nearness?

  God, I do not want to die. He was forced to close his eyes, but refused to end his pleas. Not while his heart still beat. I do not know what Thy will is for me. Perhaps it is my time to kneel before Thee, and if it be so, I shall accept that, but until I know—until Thou takest me—I plan to stay alive. I shall live each second Thou givest me for her, and to glorify Thee. Lord, give me whatever time Thou canst. Each beat of his heart, and each breath, Andrew counted, willing it to be stronger and deeper. Finally, though, what strength he had seeped away, and darkness again swept him into oblivion.

  ~*~

  Rachel pressed her palms into her eyes, sore from days without more than an hour or two of broken sleep. She sat at Andrew’s side, hour after hour without any sure sign that he would recover. His breathing deepened and his pulse seemed more regular, but she needed the confidence that he would be there, still alive, when she awoke. Leaning forward on the stool, Rachel brushed her hand over the bristly stubble on his jaw. Every day it grew longer, forming the beard he so disliked. A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. “If you would only wake up, I would shave it for you.” She pressed her lips to his forehead. “Wake up and I will do anything for you. Anything at all.”

  “Anything?” The hoarse rumble came from his throat.

  “Andrew?”

  His eyes were a dull shade of gre
en hazel, but held a depth she’d not seen before. “You did not answer...” Andrew coughed, burying his mouth with his good arm, and wincing as he did so. When he drew it away, he attempted a smile. “My question.”

  She blinked, her mind refusing to focus on anything but him. “What?”

  “Anything...for me?”

  She bit her lips together, nodding.

  “Be my wife?”

  A giggle and a sob mingled. “Of course.”

  His eyes closed as he struggled to regulate his breath. “Good,” he mumbled. “Very good.”

  Her heart ached to see him in so much pain again. Memories of the last time he’d balanced between life and death only made it worse. “I have a stipulation, though.”

  He squinted up at her. “A...stipulation?”

  “Promise me you’ll never get shot again.”

  A chuckle forced his eyes closed and deepened the lines on his face with pain. “I shall...make it a priority.”

  40

  “What are you doing out here?” Rachel pointed back toward the cabin. “You need to be resting.”

  “And miss this?” Andrew raised a brow. “No, I shall be fine. Besides, if I did not evict myself from there immediately, I risked losing any sanity I am still in possession of. I am so weary of being entombed between those four walls.”

  Rachel shook her head at him then turned to the harnesses draped over Hunter’s back. She fastened one strap before glancing at Andrew again. “Can you at least find a seat somewhere, so you aren’t overexerting yourself?”

  “How about on the stump? I imagine it would make for an exciting ride.” He flashed her a smile that she met with a glare. “No? All right.” He moved to the edge of the garden and lowered himself down on a large stone, ignoring the skiff of snow. The late October sun was quickly melting the thin white blanket they had woken to that morning.

  Rachel returned her attention to the harnesses, finishing as Joseph brought Sorrowful alongside. His arm was still bandaged, but the wound hardly more than an irritant. “We really should wait until next spring,” she said as he fastened the straps between the two animals. “We need to be splitting logs for the barn.”

  “We can do that after. This won’t take long.”

  “Maybe, but—”

  He tossed a thick coil of rope to her.

  She scrambled to catch it all.

  “Why don’t you start securing that to the stump?”

  Rachel looked to Andrew as she moved over the lumpy soil. At least he was behaving. A little over two weeks was hardly enough time to mend the hole in his shoulder or recover from the volume of blood lost. His color was starting to return, but he tired easily and was unable to hide the pain if he was up too long.

  What a strange start to a marriage.

  She smiled as she wrapped the rope around the base of the stump. With no clergy in the area, Colonel Gansevoort volunteered his services, and they had accepted. It was the only way Andrew would let her see to all his needs and nurse him back to health. He had no qualms with his wife seeing him in his shirtsleeves…or without them altogether.

  “Are you ready there?” Joseph backed the horses toward her.

  “Almost.” Rachel tied the knot, and then took the loose end to her brother. “Here.” Moving beside the horses’ heads, she held them in place.

  Joseph finished securing the rope. “All right.” He stepped out of the way. “Let’s move them forward.”

  The next hour was spent playing tug-of-war with the four inch tap root she hadn’t been able to reach. Once the horses had the stump almost on its side, Joseph slipped into the hole, getting the ax under. The root snapped abruptly and the horses jerked forward, almost dragging Rachel off her feet.

  “You all right?” Joseph leapt out of the hole, running to them.

  “Fine,” she panted. Rachel looked back at the stump and all the short appendages. It was done. It was over.

  “Here.” He took the horses’ leads. “I’ll haul this over to the edge of the woods to age.”

  Rachel walked to the crater. Almost three months of digging, hacking, sweating and crying, and now it was finished. We did it, Papa. But I still wish you were here. She closed her eyes as an arm slipped around her shoulders.

  Andrew laid a kiss on her head.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “For what?”

  She smiled, leaning her head into him. The list was too extensive—he had given her so much.

  The whinny of a horse on the road pulled their gazes to where Daniel reined his mare into the yard. Halfway to them, he paused. Fannie slipped off from behind him, making a beeline to Joseph.

  “I see you finally got that beast out,” Daniel said, coming the rest of the way. He nodded toward Andrew. “I’m surprised to see you out and about.”

  “It was either that or take up needlework, and my arm is not quite up for that yet.” His smile faded. “I have not had the opportunity to thank you for what you did. You saved my life, and I am grateful.”

  Daniel shrugged it off. “I figured I owed you after getting you hung.”

  Andrew chuckled. “There is that.”

  “And I’m responsible for the barn as well.” Daniel looked at Rachel. “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head. “Daniel—”

  He held up his hand, stopping her as he dropped to the ground. “I want you to have the Becker homestead. It’ll give you a place to keep your livestock this winter. I also talked to a few of the neighbors about seeing you have enough feed to last you to spring. They’re already filling the loft.”

  Rachel stared at him, remembering his earlier excitement over the property. “You can’t do that. You’ve spent too much time and work on owning that place. You’ve already done enough.”

  Daniel’s gaze lowered to the thick leather reins laced between his fingers. “It won’t do me any good now. I’m leaving the valley before winter sets in. I’m going to Albany to enlist.”

  “In the army?”

  He nodded. “Besides, it’s the least I can do for Fannie. Until the two of you are out of the way and Joseph has to fend for himself in the kitchen, she’ll be waiting on that man indefinitely. This should force his hand a little.”

  The two in question stood with arms brushing as Joseph unfastened the rope from the stump.

  “It is probably the perfect timing for that.”

  “Good.” Daniel swung back into his saddle. “It’s settled. I’ll let Joseph see Fannie home. Just be sure to tell him everything first,” he said with a wink, and then turned somber again, his eyes sad. “I do wish you both a very happy life.”

  “And you.” Rachel sighed as he rode away. Hopefully someday Daniel would find every joy the Lord had given her. Someday he’d fall in love with someone else. She turned to Andrew, meeting his thoughtful gaze.

  “I guess that answers that question,” he stated.

  “What question?”

  He smiled. “Where we shall build a church, of course.”

  “A church?”

  “I keep hearing how much this valley needs a clergyman. That would be easy enough to remedy.”

  “I guess it would. And you will have everything you wanted.”

  “I shall. A country parish and a wife I can abide.” Andrew squeezed her shoulder.

  “I’m glad you can abide me, Mr. Wyndham.”

  He pressed his mouth to her hairline for a long moment. “As am I, my love.” Andrew bent down to kiss her, but she slipped her fingers to his lips.

  “Not until you are in the cabin where you belong. You’ve already done too much today.”

  He grinned, his green eyes teasing. “I thought I was just getting started.”

  “I’m sorry.” Rachel gave him a quick kiss. “But I love you too much to allow you to hurt your shoulder any more than you already have.”

  Andrew wrapped her in his good arm, drawing her into him. “Then I shall have to proceed with the utmost care.”

 
Thank you

  We appreciate you reading this White Rose Publishing title. For other inspirational stories, please visit our on-line bookstore at www.pelicanbookgroup.com.

  For questions or more information, contact us at customer@pelicanbookgroup.com.

  White Rose Publishing

  Where Faith is the Cornerstone of Love™

  an imprint of Pelican Book Group

  www.PelicanBookGroup.com

  Connect with Us

  www.facebook.com/Pelicanbookgroup

  www.twitter.com/pelicanbookgrp

  To receive news and specials, subscribe to our bulletin

  http://pelink.us/bulletin_

  May God’s glory shine through

  this inspirational work of fiction.

  AMDG

  Coming Soon

  Don’t miss the next book in the Hearts at War series

  THE PATRIOT AND THE LOYALIST

  Coming April 2017

  Completing his three years in the Continental Army, Daniel Reid still has no desire to return home—not after losing the woman he loves to a British Captain—so he volunteers to ride south through enemy lines and deliver a message to Colonel Francis Marion, the Swamp Fox. With his temper needing a release and a dark haired beauty finding her way into his broken heart, Daniel decides to join the Swamp Fox’s efforts against the British. Little does he know the British still have the upper hand.

  Lydia Reynolds has learned that love comes at a price, and she refuses to pay. Better to close her heart to everything and everyone. When her brother-in-law won't grant her passage to England, where she hopes to hide from her pain, New Englander, Daniel Reid, becomes her only hope—if she can induce him to give her information about the notorious Swamp Fox and his troops. When the British grow impatient and Daniel evades her questions, Lydia must decide how far to take her charade. The poor man, already gutted by love, hasn’t grown as wise as she. Or so she supposes…

  Until the truth is known, the muskets are loaded…and it is time to decide where true loyalties lie.