Surrender the Dawn

by Marylu Tyndall

Luke knew his friend was right. He must face the consequences of his actions and allow God to decide his fate. Time to stop running. Flanked by his friends, he threw back his aching shoulders and pressed on. They halted before the officers, drawing the gaze of Major Armistead.

  “Well done, men. I owe you all a debt of gratitude for coming to fight alongside my troops.” The major’s voice brimmed with sincere appreciation. “Have we been introduced?”

  Luke studied Tripp, expecting him to draw his sword and drag Luke back to his cell, but the infernal man would not meet his gaze.

  Noah cleared his throat. “No, sir. Forgive me. I am Noah Brenin, privateer.” He gestured toward Blackthorn and introduced him as his first mate. Then the major turned to Luke.

  “Heaton, sir. Luke Heaton.” Would the major recognize his name as the traitor who had been locked in the fort’s guardhouse? Lieutenant Tripp’s eyes finally landed on Luke. Surely he would say something now. But the man’s mud-strewn expression carried no trace of the arrogance and anger that usually simmered in it.

  “Very good, Mr. Heaton.” Major Armistead clasped the hilt of the sword hanging at his hip as confusion claimed his face. “Ah, Heaton. Wait a minute. That name does sound familiar.”

  CHAPTER 35

  Luke’s gut twisted in a knot as Major Armistead’s unyielding gaze fixed on him. “Yes, I have heard your name before. But where?”

  The major gripped the hilt of his sword even tighter, and Luke braced himself for the inevitable arrest.

  Instead, the major’s eyebrows rose. “Ah yes.” He dipped his head toward Tripp. “I understand you saved the lieutenant’s life?”

  Luke blinked. An odd look of surrender settled on Tripp’s expression.

  Major Armistead chuckled. “Come now, don’t be modest, Mr. Heaton. The lieutenant regaled me with the tale himself.”

  Tripp lifted his chin. “I owe you my life, sir.” He tugged Luke aside and leaned toward his ear. “Mr. Brenin told me of your brother,” he whispered. “And the paperwork of your arrest seems to have disappeared in the mayhem.” Then stepping back, he winked at Luke before he rejoined the group. Luke numbly followed him.

  “Shall we call our accounts settled then?” Tripp cleared his throat.

  Luke stared dumbfounded at the man for a moment before he nodded. Yet surely this was some cruel joke. He braced himself for the laughter that was sure to come before they hauled him away.

  “And we have just received word”—Major Armistead glanced over his men with glee—“that the British advance was halted at North Point as well. So, off with you, men. Go home. Kiss your wives, your sweethearts. Your country thanks you for your service and your courage.”

  Luke shared a look of shock with Noah. He hesitated. They weren’t going to arrest him? He was free?

  Grabbing his arm, Noah dragged Luke away as the major’s final words penetrated his heart. Service and courage. Reverend Drummond had said Luke had a destiny. But Luke had never considered it would be such an important one.

  Cassandra hugged herself. Morning mist hovered over the river, slipping over the sides of the small boat and swirling about her feet. John leaned his head against her shoulder and she looped an arm around him and drew him near.

  “Where are they taking us?” he whispered.

  She kissed the top of his head. “I don’t know.” Recognizing the fear icing her voice, she added in a more cheerful tone, “Perhaps home.”

  His shoulders loosened and he smiled.

  The splash of paddles and squeak of oarlocks echoed through the fog, scraping over Cassandra’s nerves. She and John had been ushered off the truce ship in such haste, they’d been unable to say good-bye to Mr. Key and his friends. A dozen terrifying possibilities crowded her thoughts. Though they’d seen the American flag over the fort, perhaps their celebration had been premature. Perhaps Baltimore had been taken by the British. Perhaps she and John were being escorted to a city she would not recognize. A town occupied by the enemy. Or worse, perhaps she and John were to be executed

  For treason against the Crown.

  But surely the British would have done the nefarious deed aboard their fleet? Why head into town?

  And what would happen to Mr. Key, Dr. Beanes, and Colonel Skinner? Why had they not been brought along?

  Cassandra rubbed her head. Too many questions. And none of them had answers that helped settle her nerves.

  Sunlight angled through distant trees, chasing away the mist and revealing land up ahead. Her heart tight and her mind reeling, she hugged John tighter and lowered her head to pray.

  Please protect us, Father. Please protect Baltimore and our country. And whatever Your will is, please give me the grace to accept it.

  No sooner had she raised her gaze than the tiny craft struck the shore, nearly tossing her from the thwarts. Birds chirped a cheerful melody while the smell of cedar and pine wafted over her. The marines leapt into the shallow water and tugged the boat farther onto the sand.

  One of them held his hand out for her, his unyielding expression offering no indication of her fate.

  Staggering to her feet, she took his hand, noticing her that her own were trembling. Thankfully, John took her other hand then splashed into the water beside the marine.

  Cassandra’s oversized boots sank into the sand as she and John plodded onto dry land.

  A splash and creak of wood turned her around. Both marines hopped back into the boat and made ready to leave.

  “What is happening, sir?” she demanded.

  One of them looked up as he swung the oar backward and plunged it into the water.

  “You and the boy are free to go.”

  Luke wove his way through the throng of cheerful citizens, singing and dancing in celebration of their victory. Boys dashed between adults, sticks in hands, playing mock battle. Little girls, in flurries of lace, whirled to the sound of fiddles and pianofortes chiming from taverns. Church bells rang. Men slapped each other on the back while women embraced. Luke plowed through them, unaffected by their giddiness. How could he join in the celebration when every passing moment sent Cassandra and John farther away?

  Not that he wasn’t grateful God had freed him from the noose. Luke rubbed his neck at the thought. Yes, Father, more grateful than I can say. Only newly committed to God, and already the Almighty had performed a miracle. Several this day, in fact.

  But now, if Luke was to rescue Cassandra and John, he needed another one. And fast.

  “What do you intend to do?” Noah caught up to him, breathless.

  “I intend to go after them.”

  “The entire Royal fleet?” Clutching his arm, Noah spun him around. “Are you mad?”

  Luke clenched his jaw. “Go home to your wife, Noah.” Blackthorn had done as much as soon as they’d entered the city.

  Turning down Pratt Street, Luke ducked and dove between clusters of revelry makers and passing carriages. He spotted Destiny’s bare masts jutting into the morning sky at the end of the long wharf and breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t been sunk in the effort to keep the British from advancing.

  Noah kept pace at his side. “Think, man. Even if you could navigate past the sunken merchant ships, what do you intend to do? Sail up to the British fleet in your small schooner and beg their leave?”

  Luke ground his teeth together as he forged ahead.

  Noah groaned. “Do you expect them to be in a generous mood after their humiliating defeat?”

  “All the more reason why I must rescue John and Cassandra as soon as possible.” Luke continued, slower this time, as he searched his mind for a solution.

  Noah stopped him. “Haven’t we missed your last rendezvous?”

  “Yes, but what does it matter? I am sure he has no further interest in making our appointments.” A gust of wind blasted over them, sending a chill through Luke’s wet clothes.

  “The captain knows he still holds something of extreme value to you.” Noah’s calm tone held a wisdom Luke envie
d. “Perhaps he is greedy enough to seek an exchange.”

  Luke huffed. He rubbed his eyes, thankful for his friend’s level thinking.

  “Let’s go home,” Noah said. “Get a good night’s sleep and something warm in our bellies. Then tomorrow at dawn, we’ll head out to my ship at Elizabeth City and sail to the rendezvous spot. Perhaps this Captain Raynor will show up.”

  Luke was about to agree when a female voice shouted Noah’s name. Spinning around, Noah rushed to Marianne who held Jacob in her arms. Behind them, Miss Rose and Mr. Reed approached. Noah showered his wife and son with kisses in such a display of exuberant affection that Luke tore his gaze away at the intimacy. His eyes landed on Miss Rose. She smiled in return before gazing up at Mr. Reed. Luke could not help but see the affection that strung between them. Raking a hand through his damp hair, he approached his friends.

  “We simply could not wait another minute to see you, Noah.” Marianne brushed tears from her face. “I was so frightened you’d been injured. We were on our way to the fort when we saw you standing here.” She scanned him. “Are you injured?”

  “No, just tired and”—he gazed down at his torn filthy attire—“and quite dirty, I’m afraid.” Noah pointed toward her gown, where evidence of their embrace smudged over the cotton fabric. “I’ve ruined your gown.”

  “Do you think I care about that?” Marianne handed Jacob to Noah and fell into his arms again. The baby flung his hands up and down, giggling.

  Rose stepped toward Luke. “We heard you were arrested. We were so frightened.”

  “Indeed,” Luke said. “But God worked all that out.”

  “God?” Miss Rose cocked her head, studying him.

  Luke nodded toward Mr. Reed. “Congratulations on your engagement.”

  Red blossomed on Rose’s face as she slid her arm through Mr. Reed’s. “Thank you. We are very blessed.”

  The Brit leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead.

  Though happy for his friends, Luke turned away from viewing yet more affection he would never experience. Sunlight cast a smattering of glittering diamonds over the bay. Without Cassandra, the beautiful sight seemed empty. Exhaustion tugged on him as agony weighed his heart. Noah was right. There was nothing to be done at the moment to find John and Cassandra. Nothing but pray. Yet, hadn’t he proved, of all the things he could do, prayer was the most powerful?

  Please help them, Lord. Bring them home to me.

  Bells of jubilee rang through the streets.

  An odd sensation traversed his back, as if someone was looking at him. A sensation of delightful foreboding that sent pinpricks down his spine. Shaking it off to his exhausted state, Luke turned and scanned the crowd nonetheless. Nothing unusual.

  A soldier led a weary horse down the center of the street. Behind him, on the saddle perched a woman and a young boy, their faces hidden in the folds of the soldier’s cloak. The man pulled his horse to a stop then reached behind to help his passengers dismount.

  A crush of people passed in front of Luke, blocking his view.

  His heart thrashed against his chest. Why, he couldn’t say. But there was something …

  He forged toward them, gently nudging people aside, peering through the throng, desperate, yearning, hoping.

  Then he saw her.

  Cassandra, hand in hand with John, craned her neck over the mob. Their eyes met. She stopped. Her chest rose and fell. A tiny smile crept over her lips.

  The throng of people parted, their movements slowing. The clamor of voices and music faded, and all Luke could hear was the wild thump thump thump of his heart.

  “Luke!” Breaking free from Cassandra, John flew into Luke’s arms. Bending over, Luke swallowed him up and spun him around and around, laughing. His heart felt as though it would burst. He set the lad down. “How did you get here?”

  “The British released us early this morning, and that nice soldier gave us a ride on his horse.” Gripping his brother’s arms, Luke shook him, if only to make sure he was real, uninjured, whole. “You look well.”

  “I am. Miss Channing took good care of me.”

  “More like the other way around.” Her sweet voice eased over Luke’s ears like a soothing ballad. Rising to his full height, he gazed into emerald eyes, glistening with tears.

  But before he could utter a word, Marianne and Rose crowded around Cassandra, taking turns hugging her.

  “You’ll never believe what your mother told me.” Marianne pulled away and smiled. “Apparently Mr. Crane found the money that was stolen from you. And he has returned it all!” She squeezed Cassandra’s hands. “She came to tell me two days ago before the fighting began, and also to see if there was any word about you or Luke. She’s been out of her mind with worry.”

  Cassandra exchanged a smile with Luke. “That is good news, indeed. I will go see her soon.”

  “John.” Noah drew the boy away. “Come tell us of your adventures.” He took his wife’s hand, pulling her from Cassandra. Rose followed them.

  But Luke hardly noticed, so mesmerized was he by the love beaming from Cassandra’s face.

  He took a tentative step toward her. Wind danced through her auburn hair, half-torn from her pins and hanging down her back. Her petite curves were swallowed up in an oversized pink gown that dipped too low in the front. Sunlight glistened over her skin. Muddy boots covered her feet and dark shadows curved beneath her eyes.

  Luke thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

  He reached to touch her. Worried she was only a dream. Worried she would not welcome his caress, but needing to touch her anyway, needing it more than anything. He brushed a thumb over her cheek.

  Leaning into his hand, she smiled. “John told me everything, Luke. I’m so sorry I doubted you.”

  “Sorry?” Luke snorted. “Lud, woman. I’m the one who should be sorry.”

  She swallowed. “You did what you had to. I should have trusted you.” A tear spilled down her cheek.

  Luke brushed it away. “I gave you no cause.” He reached for her hand, hoping it wasn’t too late to win her heart. “But if you’ll give me a chance …”

  A chance? Cassandra nearly laughed. She would give anything to own the heart of this honorable, courageous man. In fact, her own heart had not ceased to dance wildly in her chest since she’d spotted him, standing by the docks: dark hair hanging in his face, open shirt flapping in the breeze over his muscled chest, the sharp cut of his stubbled jaw, his flashing blue eyes the color of the sea he loved so much, and stains of blood and dirt smudging his clothes.

  Earlier today, she thought she’d never see him again. And now she knew she could never live without him.

  Blood! Alarm snapped her gaze to his arm. She touched the stains on his sleeve. “Are you injured?”

  He cupped his hand over hers and drew it to his lips. “No. It’s not my blood. I was at the fort.”

  “During the bombing?” Cassandra could hardly believe anyone could survive what she had witnessed all night.

  He nodded, kissing her hand. Warmth spread up her arm. He entwined his fingers with hers and stared at her, caressing her with his eyes, drinking her in as if she were a deep pool after crossing a desert.

  Flustered and overjoyed at his perusal, she lowered her gaze. “Thank God you weren’t kill—”

  His lips touched hers. Moist, warm, gently caressing. He drew her close. Pressed her against him. She felt the heat through his damp clothes. A tempest swirled in her belly, a pleasurable tempest she hoped never to dissipate. Then he withdrew slightly and leaned toward her ear. “Marry me, Cassandra.” His whispered breath caressed her neck, sending shivers down her back. Delightful, glorious shivers.

  Air escaped her lungs. She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. Didn’t want this moment to end. But then he backed away. A breeze filled the space between them. She wanted him back. Wanted to dwell in his arms.

  But uncertainty clouded his face.

  “Marry the town rog
ue?” She gave him a coy smile, hoping to brighten his mood. “Surely, you jest.”

  Lowering his chin, he stepped back. “Forgive my presump—”

  She placed a finger on his lips. “Yes.”

  A devilish glint sparked in his eyes. “Yes, you’ll forgive my presumptuous behavior?”

  “No, you fool. Yes, I will marry you.”

  One side of his lips cocked in that beguiling grin of his, before he hoisted her into his arms and flung her around. Their laughter mingled in the air above them.

  Soon, clinging to Luke’s arm, Cassandra led him to their friends. As they approached, wide grins and knowing looks met them as congratulations were passed all around. John could hardly contain his glee.

  Another boom of victory sounded from the fort, drawing Cassandra’s gaze. Throwing one arm around her and his other around John, Luke drew them both close. Overcome with thankfulness at what God had done, Cassandra glanced at her friends: Marianne and Noah stood arm in arm, Jacob perched on Noah’s shoulders; Rose leaned back on Mr. Reed’s chest, his hands folded protectively in front of her.

  All of them gazed with pride at the massive flag flapping in the wind over Fort McHenry.

  “God had a great destiny for us all in this war,” Marianne said.

  “Destiny and love,” Rose added, exchanging a glance with Mr. Reed.

  Cassandra gazed up at Luke then lifted her face to the light of the sun. “He did indeed. And I don’t think He’s done with us yet.”

  HISTORICAL NOTE

  At noon on September 11, 1814, the British fleet sailed to the mouth of the Patapsco River and anchored off North Point, just fourteen miles from Baltimore. Arrogantly spurred on by their successful march into Washington, DC, three weeks earlier, the British planned to attack the “Nest of Pirates,” as they called the city, from both land and sea. Early in the morning on September 13, while British troops advanced on land from North Point toward Baltimore, five bomb ships and several other warships maneuvered into a semicircle two miles from Fort McHenry. Just after dawn, the bombing commenced.