Her Honorable Enemy

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Her Honorable Enemy Page 14

by Mary Davis


  She climbed down from the loft and searched the lower portion of the barn again. Other than the livestock, there wasn’t anyone there.

  She left the barn and went out to the privy. He wasn’t there either. She looked around the yard as she headed back to the house. “Lindy! Lindy!”

  When she stepped inside, everyone was at the table waiting, and Papa asked, “What took so long?”

  “Lindy’s gone. I can’t find him anywhere.”

  Papa stood, grabbed his coat and took the lantern from her before heading out the door.

  Genevieve came over to her. “I know you looked everywhere. Where could he be?”

  “I don’t know.”

  After a few minutes, Papa came back in. “He’s gone. I’m going to get a few men and go looking for him.”

  Genevieve clasped her hands to her chest.

  Rachel wrapped a supportive arm around her.

  Papa kissed Genevieve. “I’ll find him and bring him home.” He left.

  Genevieve shooed Rachel to the table. “Everyone eat.”

  Rachel sat as Genevieve bid. But no one reached for any of the food.

  Genevieve looked around the table at the girls. “Well. Eat.”

  Alice began to cry. “But we haven’t said grace.”

  Rachel took her littlest sisters’ hands on either side of her. Genevieve and Alice completed the circle. Rachel prayed for safe travel for Papa and for him to find Lindley safe and sound. After the blessing, Rachel dished food onto Winnie’s and Edith’s plates as well as her own. Genevieve and Alice put food on their own plates. But no one ate. They just stared at their food.

  Finally, Genevieve spoke. “Where could my baby boy have gone?”

  “I don’t know.” Rachel pictured her brother laughing, playing, running through the woods. Then she pictured him sword fighting with Charles. Charles was so good with Lindley. If Papa hadn’t been so stubborn about Charles, Lindley wouldn’t have run off.

  Rachel ceased breathing. Neither in nor out. Lindley wouldn’t have. Would he?

  He would.

  Exhaling, she pushed away from the table.

  “Where are you going?” Genevieve asked.

  Rachel shrugged on her coat. “I think I know where Lindy could have gone.”

  Genevieve gripped her arm. “You can’t go out in this weather.”

  Rachel took her stepmother’s hand from her arm and held it. “Lindy is out in this. I have to try. I know the woods well. I’ll be fine.”

  Genevieve’s hand tightened. “Your father would never forgive me if I let you go out and something happened to you.”

  “He’ll never forgive himself if something happens to his only son. I have to go. You can’t stop me.”

  Genevieve studied Rachel’s face for several moments. “You think he’s at their camp, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “Bring him home.”

  “I will. And if Papa asks me, I’ll tell him you did everything in your power to stop me.”

  Genevieve put a gentle hand on Rachel’s cheek. “You have always been a good daughter.” She put a brimmed hat on Rachel’s head and tied a scarf around it to keep it in place. “God’s speed. I’ll pray until all my family is safely home.”

  Rachel kissed her stepmother’s cheek. “Thank you.” She lit the spare lantern and stepped outside.

  Lord, let me find him. Please let him be safe.

  The wind lashed rain against her face. She pushed forward, across the yard and into the woods. The fir tree canopy acted as an umbrella, shielding her from the rainfall. The few drops that did make it to the forest floor were large accumulations, more like being doused with cups of water than individual raindrops. The thick growth of trees and underbrush broke the force of the wind and made travel manageable. Even though Rachel knew her way, she still found it difficult in the dark with the storm. If this had been a clear night, a full moon would have lit her way. As it was, the ground was soggy, the undergrowth dripping and the going slow with mud sucking at her boots.

  Please, Lord, please let Lindy be safe.

  Chapter 18

  Charles sat near the potbelly stove in the dining hall where the men were gathered. Wind lashed rain against the windows and pushed cold air in through invisible cracks. He held his hands around his cup of tea. It was almost cool enough to drink without scalding his tongue.

  He went over the events of the day. Could he have done something different to have swayed Mr. Thompson in his favor? Mr. Thompson had said there wasn’t anything he could say to change his mind.

  The outside door opened, and the din of the men inside silenced immediately, so he looked up to see who had come in. Probably Captain Bazalgette. He couldn’t imagine anyone else commanding their attention so quickly and making them all stand. But when he saw who it was, Charles abandoned his tea and rushed over.

  Rachel?

  She looked cold, and rain dripped off her. Her skirt, her coat and even her face were splattered with mud.

  He took her elbow and ushered her over to the stove. “What are you doing out in this storm? What are you doing here at camp?” He pulled off her mittens and rubbed her cold hands between his.

  “Is he here?” she asked in a thin, tired voice.

  “Who?” Her father?

  “Lindley.” Her voice gained strength. “He ran away. Is he here?”

  “No, I haven’t seen him.” He grabbed his cup of tea from the nearby table. “Here. Drink this. It will help warm you.”

  She cradled it in her hands and drank it down.

  “Why would he run away?”

  “I had a big fight with Papa. Lindy stood up for me...and you. We all thought he was just out in the barn sulking.”

  “Was the fight about my visit with your father earlier today?”

  She nodded.

  “What is she doing here?” thundered the captain’s voice.

  The men turned, straightened and shuffled backward to make a path for their superior.

  Charles stood at attention. “Sir, Miss Thompson came looking for her brother. He’s out in this storm, and she thought he might have wandered into camp.”

  His captain’s stern face softened slightly. “How old is he?”

  Rachel stood. “Only twelve. I meant no harm in coming.”

  He turned. “Sergeant, organize the men into search parties.”

  The men scattered to get their gear on to brave the weather. Not one of them complained about going out in a storm to search for an American boy.

  Rachel spoke to the captain. “You don’t have to do that.”

  Captain Bazalgette gazed down at her. “I would be remiss as a gentleman, not to mention as a human being, if we didn’t aid in the search.”

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded. “You’d best head on back home before they come looking for you, as well.”

  Charles spoke up then. “I’ll see she makes it back home safely.”

  Rachel opened her mouth to speak, but Charles gripped her arm to silence her.

  Captain Bazalgette studied him a moment. “Very well. Then join up with one of the search parties.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The captain walked away.

  Charles helped Rachel back into the chair. “You stay here and warm yourself by the stove. I’ll get what I need and be right back.”

  Rachel grabbed his arm this time. “I’m not going home. I’m going to look for my brother.”

  He patted her hand. “I know.”

  “Then why did you tell your commander you would take me home?”

  “He would not have accepted you, a lady, continuing in the search. And after we find Lindley, I will see you safely home.”

&n
bsp; She seemed pleased with his answer and released his arm. He missed her touch but went to dress for the storm. He donned his rain gear. The men scurried around in preparation to head out. He stopped by the table where a map had been spread out and told the sergeant the direction he would be heading in with Rachel. Then he returned to her. “Are you warming up?”

  “Yes, I feel much better. Let’s go.” She reached for her coat, which hung on the back of a chair.

  He stopped her and held up two raincoats. “Your coat is soaked through. Put these on.” He set one down and held up the smaller of the two.

  She poked her arms into the sleeves. “I don’t think I need two. One will suffice.”

  He fastened the coat on her. “The second is for Lindley. He will likely be wet and cold. It will be easier if you wear the second rather than trying to carry it. When we find your brother, the coat will already be warmed for him.” And it would keep her warmer as well until then.

  She grabbed the cuffs of the coat she had on and held them in her fists as she pushed her arms into the second set of sleeves. The coats hung big on her and nearly touched the ground. She would be well protected. He gave her a dry hat and hoped she would be warm enough. The search could take a while.

  Lord, please help us to find him and bring him back safely.

  As they were heading for the door, Charles noticed a coil of rope on the floor. His men knew better than to leave something like that lying around.

  For some reason he couldn’t explain, he felt he should take it.

  Without thinking about it more, he scooped up the rope and hiked it over his shoulder.

  “What’s that for?” Rachel asked.

  “I’m not sure. I just get the impression I should bring it.” He took the lantern from her.

  She didn’t question him further and scurried out the door. “Which direction?”

  The wind and rain accosted him before he could even close the door behind them. He pointed toward the hill she had come down. “It must look as though I’m escorting you home. And if Lindley was indeed coming here, the woods between here and your house are the most likely place to find him.”

  She headed up the hill. Once at the top, she pointed. “The path is this way.”

  He gripped her arm. “This way. The first time I came to your house, I went the wrong way around a bush and got turned around a bit. In the dark, Lindley might have, too.” He took her hand and led her along the cliff overlooking the water beyond the officers’ housing.

  “Lindley!”

  “Lindy!”

  He hoped Lindley hadn’t gotten this close to the cliff, but he felt led to go this way. The guiding comforted him, assuring him that he was headed the right direction, but it also frightened him. If the boy went over the cliff, it would be bad. “The edge is close here. Stay near the trees on that side.” He maneuvered Rachel over by the trees, away from the cliff, while holding the lantern up. “Lindley!”

  “Lindy!”

  Charles stopped short. “Dear God, no.”

  “What is it?”

  Charles held the lamp higher as he studied the ground near the edge. The ground cover was disturbed. The floor debris had been scraped down to the dirt in places. And the marks went over the edge. Please let it have been an animal. He pointed. “Stay back. I’ll check it out.”

  He inched toward the edge but couldn’t get close enough to see over. He moved back, set down the lantern and then tied the rope around himself. He held the other end, using it to keep himself from slipping over the edge. He took the lantern and inched himself to the edge so he could see down the side.

  “Do you see anything?”

  “I can’t tell.” Then he saw Lindley about ten feet down. The boy clung facedown to a tree and bush growing out of the side of the cliff. He wasn’t moving. “He’s here.” He called back to Rachel. “Stay back, though.” He called down to the boy. “Lindley, can you hear me?”

  The boy’s reply was but a whimper.

  Charles breathed more easily. He was alive. “Hold on tight. I’m coming to get you.” Lindley was probably too scared and cold to move.

  Charles scrambled away from the edge. Rachel stared at him. “He’s down there. I heard him make a noise. I think he’s just scared and cold.”

  She leaned around him, but he held on to her to make sure she didn’t go near the muddy edge. “Lindy, we’re coming for you.”

  Charles retied the rope around himself to rappel down the cliff better and wound the other end once around the trunk of a sturdy tree. He showed Rachel how to use the rope around the tree to increase her strength to lower him down to Lindley.

  “I don’t think I can do that. I’m not very strong.”

  Charles touched her shoulders. Rain dripped off her hat. “You can do this. Don’t doubt yourself. Don’t wonder if you can. Just know that you have to. You have no choice.”

  “What if you fall? I should be the one to go down. You’re stronger.”

  “It’s too dangerous.” He would never risk her life like that. “Your skirts would be cumbersome and get in the way. You can do this.” He stared into her eyes until she believed him.

  She nodded.

  Many a capable soldier doubted himself and failed, while other, lesser soldiers believed they could do something and succeeded. “I trust you.”

  With the rope behind her, she gripped it on each side of herself and planted her feet.

  Charles took the lantern and inched toward the edge. He put his weight into the rope so Rachel could feel the pull and be prepared when all his weight was in her hands. Lord, give her the strength and confidence to do this. People have been known to show considerable strength beyond their abilities in situations like this.

  Before he reached the edge, he leaned his weight on the rope. Rachel held him. He hung the lantern on a branch over the cliff so he would have a little light. And he would have both hands free to grip roots and rocks on the way down. “All right. I’m going over now.”

  “I’m ready.”

  He hoped she was. “I’m coming down to you, Lindley.” As he inched closer, he slipped in the mud. He slid over the edge and dangled. His heart jumped up into his throat. He heard Rachel grunt, but she held him. He grabbed the muddy cliff and jammed the toes of his boots into the soft side. That had been scary. Lindley must have been terrified when he went over. Charles caught his breath before working his way down with Rachel releasing the rope a few inches at a time.

  Though he couldn’t see the water below in the inky blackness, he could hear it crashing against the base of the cliff. And there were probably large and small rocks that he would dash against if he fell. He made his way over the roots of the tree.

  As he neared Lindley, he reached one leg out to stand on the tree trunk on the far side of the boy. He put his other foot through the roots coming out of the wall. The tree was solidly planted in the side of the cliff. “Hold up! I’m down!”

  “All right! How is Lindy?”

  “Lindley, can you hear me?”

  His voice was small. “Yes.” He was still facedown.

  “Can you move at all?”

  “I’m afraid to. I don’t want to fall more.”

  “Do you think you are hurt badly?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m really cold.” Lindley’s teeth chattered.

  Charles called up to Rachel. “He’s fine! Just cold!” He hoped that was all that was wrong. He leaned forward to grab hold of Lindley before the boy moved. The rope kept Charles from reaching him. “Give me about six inches!”

  The rope slackened.

  He looped one arm through a thick root and gripped the waist of the boy’s trousers with his free hand. “I want you to stand up and hold on to me.”

  Lindley moved, and his hand slipped off the
trunk. “Aaah!”

  “It’s all right. I’ve got you.”

  Lindley worked his way onto his knees, then caught Charles’s leg and pulled himself up. He quickly hooked his arms around Charles’s waist.

  To give Lindley enough room to stand balanced, Charles leaned back slightly, holding himself up by the arm he had looped through the root. His other arm was securely around the boy. He untied the rope with one hand. He pushed his arm farther through the root so he could use both hands to tie the rope around Lindley.

  The boy was secure, but Charles’s stomach knotted as he felt his foot slip off the trunk. His leg swung out over thin air. If not for his arm around the root, he would have plunged to his death.

  Lindley cried out.

  “I’m all right.” He pulled himself back up onto the trunk behind the boy and then took a moment to catch his breath. He called up to Rachel. “Start pulling!”

  He told Lindley, “Climb the roots as far as you can. Then dig your hands and feet into the muddy side.”

  Lindley nodded. Up the boy went, over the roots.

  Charles pushed from below to help both the boy and Rachel. Once Lindley got to the top of the roots, he didn’t ascend any higher.

  “Pull, Rachel!”

  “I am!”

  She wasn’t strong enough. It was one thing to lower a person but quite another to pull someone up. If she couldn’t pull the boy up, did Lindley have a chance? Lord, give her the strength.

  Then the boy started rising.

  Charles breathed a sigh of relief. She had found the strength.

  The shadow of the boy slipped over the edge and out of sight. He waited for her to throw the rope back down to him. He waited.

  And waited.

  Was she having trouble untying it? “Rachel?”

  A person appeared over the edge of the cliff. The light from the lantern illuminated the face.

  Mr. Thompson.

  That was why she’d suddenly been able to pull her brother up.

  Charles’s life was in the hands of a man who didn’t want his daughter near him. A man who had threatened him. A man who would prefer he disappeared. Permanently.

 

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