Behind him, Storm stumbled on the uneven trail. Colin glanced back at the Thoroughbred as it plodded along, sagging and dirty, its head drooping low. He gave the animal’s muscled neck an encouraging pat as he thought of the emergency stores left at Great Meadows, where a small garrison of militia guarded prisoners that had been captured. Hopefully sufficient grain would be available there to restore the herd.
Colin cast a disparaging look ahead at McKay’s scarlet-clad soldiers and ground his teeth. The king’s officer refused to order his redcoats to do any physical labor unless they received extra pay, and Washington had no extra resources. So the British soldiers packed none of the equipment, nor had they lifted a pick, shovel, or axe to dig defensive trenches, build fortifications, or help cut trees when the trail needed widening for passage of the wagons.
Morale in the Virginia militia sagged, and the men were on the verge of forgetting about the conflict with the French and taking on McKay and his regulars instead. At the root of the dissention was the fact that Captain McKay insisted he outranked Lieutenant Colonel Washington because he was older and his commission came from the king, not a colonial governor.
A disgusted huff from Tuck interrupted Colin’s murderous thoughts. “Know what Sergeant Emmons said this mornin’?”
“No. What?”
“He said if the Frenchies do find us, they’ll have nothin’ to shoot at but movin’ targets, ’cause we ain’t done nothin’ but move hither and yon since we left Alexandria.”
Colin grunted. “He might have a point. This is the third time we’re headed for Great Meadows, after all. But remember, one of those treks was taken just to separate us from McKay’s men.”
“And here we all are, back together again.” Tuck scoffed. “Beat’s everything, huh?”
“All I’ve got to say is that high-and-mighty McKay better start takin’ our situation seriously. According to Chief Monakaduto’s scouts, the French have added great numbers to their ranks, along with the hundreds of Indians they already had with them.”
“A pity these redcoats have never seen the way Indians fight.” Tuck gave an exaggerated shudder. “If they had, they’d all be totin’ and diggin for all they’re worth. They’d have trenches dug clear down to China.”
Colin and Tuck trudged on in silence, punctuated now and then by a weary huff or a disbelieving shake of the head as they backtracked over terrain they’d covered before.
An hour later, the blessed sight of Great Meadows finally came into view. Banks created by knee-deep trenches that had been dug a few weeks ago now surrounded the encampment. Colin knew those fortifications would have to be greatly beefed up if they had any hope of surviving the imminent assault.
As they started across the swaying grasses, two men came riding out to meet their column. They headed straight for Washington and McKay at the front.
Colin nudged Tuck. “Might as well go find out what they have to report.” He forced his bone-weary legs into a faster pace to pass the column of redcoats.
Tuck panted as he caught up. “Wouldn’t it be marvelous if they came with orders sendin’ us back to Alexandria?”
Colin didn’t bother to respond to that far-fetched notion.
As the riders reached the commanders, one of them, a tall man in frontier attire, dismounted with a leather pouch in his hand. “I have a dispatch for Colonel Washington. From Governor Dinwiddie.”
Washington took the pouch, his astute eyes never wavering from the man. “You aren’t one of our regular dispatch riders.” He shifted his gaze toward the one still mounted, including him in the assertion.
“Nay, we’re not. Me an’ my partner was on our way out here to see if we could help out, when we run across your man at Wills Creek.”
“Sicker’n a dog, he was,” his pal inserted.
Studying the pair, Colin noted that one of them had dark complexion and black hair, indicating the possibility of Indian blood. His own suspicions rose. Were they really who they said they were?
Lieutenant Trent, a former trader with the Virginia and Ohio Company, strode to the front, his head cocked as he peered at the newcomers. “Kinyon? That you?” A huge grin broadened his bewhiskered face.
“Aye. Me an’ Black Horse Bob. We figgered you boys might need an extra hand.”
“You thought right.” The trader grasped the frontiersman’s hand.
“Do you know these men, Trent?” Washington asked.
“I surely do. The Frenchies chased this pair outta their Muskingum store down on the Ohio last fall.”
Washington broke into a rare smile and extended a hand. “I recall hearing about that. Was it true that you brought a white woman and a babe out with you?”
Shaking the commander’s hand, Kinyon nodded. “Aye. We did. The gal’s my sweet bonny wife now.”
Forgetting his lower rank, Tuck edged forward. “What’s in the dispatch, sir?”
“Yes.” Captain McKay gave an arrogant tilt of his head. “It might be of consequence to us all.”
“Of course.” Washington’s smile vanished. Opening the flap, he pulled out the stamped document and broke the wax seal. Unfolding it, he quickly scanned the paper, then looked up. “Considering our present circumstance, this is of little consequence.”
“Well, what does it say?” McKay demanded.
Washington handed him the paper. “Governor Dinwiddie writes to commend all the men who were part of our last encounter with the French.”
“You forgot to add the rest.” McKay’s face reddened with rage. “You’ve been promoted to full colonel.”
The commander replied with equal force. “As I said, it’s of little consequence at the moment.” Retaking the paper, he folded and pocketed it.
“I brought two other letters with me.” Kinyon withdrew them from the neck of his belted hunting shirt.
All eyes shifted toward him in the growing tension.
“A coupl’a letters for a Lieutenant Barclay.” He scanned the group.
Colin’s heart skipped a beat. Mariah!
“Letters!” Tuck piped in as Colin reached out his grimy hand toward Mr. Kinyon. “Are there any others?”
“No, ‘fraid not.” The frontiersman’s negative shake of the head generated a number of grumbles from the gathering. He offered the onlookers a half smile as he handed Colin the two missives. “The Barclays asked me to deliver these when my wife an’ I visited ’em a few weeks back.”
“Thank you.” Assessing the man and his Indian-looking friend, Colin wondered how this man and his woman happened to call at the plantation. They weren’t the typical sort of visitors his family entertained.
“Give the order to march.” Washington’s command reminded Colin that the militia still had a number of rods to go before reaching the encampment—rods to cover before he’d find a private place to open his mail. The letters would have to wait.
The company hefted their gear and set out once again. Unfortunately, however, the instant they reached their destination, Washington called everyone to attention before they had chance enough for even a brief rest. “Men, we have not a second to waste. All those not tending the stock or preparing food, grab axes and shovels. We must start constructing a fort immediately.” He eyed Captain McKay pointedly, as if challenging the man to order his regulars to help.
When McKay grudgingly acquiesced, Colin wasn’t certain if he’d done so because the newly awarded full colonel had ordered the work or because the need was so dire.
While the various work parties began chopping down young trees, stripping off branches, and cutting pointed poles to size, Colin set his men to digging holes for the upright fort poles. During the frenzy of hard labor, the Indians inside the camp merely watched the action and talked among themselves. Not a good sign.
Colin noticed that Kinyon and his partner weren’t among the slackers. Both took their turn digging holes beside Colin’s already exhausted men. Curious about the frontiersman, Colin strode down the line to where the man work
ed, shirtless and sweating as he swung a pick. When Kinyon moved back to make way for a fellow with a shovel, Colin handed him a flask of water.
Smiling his thanks, the frontiersman raised the vessel and took a sizable gulp, then handed it back.
“Would you mind stepping aside with me for a moment?”
“Glad to.” The big man handed off the pick and strode several feet away with Colin.
“You say you and your wife visited our plantation. Might I ask why?”
A deep chuckle rumbled from Kinyon’s chest. “Kinda figgered that’d spark your interest. My wife is your betrothed’s sister.”
Colin blanched. “You know about our betrothal?” Stupid question. Of course Mariah would tell her sister. “Does my family know as well?”
He shook his head. “Mariah thinks it’s your place to tell your kin. But my Rose was plumb pleased to see how well your folks are takin’ care of her sister. She was more concerned for Mariah’s—shall we say, welfare—than her little sister Lily’s.”
Colin had to laugh, remembering his encounter with prim and proper Rose Harwood. “I’ve no doubt of that. She wasn’t too thrilled to see her sister ride off with a total stranger, one who was wholly attracted to Mariah’s beauty. Would you believe she made me vow to deliver Mariah to my mother before the sun set, and also to see to her religious instruction?”
It was Kinyon’s turn to laugh. “Sounds just like my Rose. She wouldn’t have a lick to do with the likes of me till after I rededicated myself to the Lord.” He turned serious. “I’m glad of that now. If not for God’s protection, we never would’a escaped them Frenchies an’ their Indian trackers.” He nodded toward the gathering. “Speakin’ of Indians, them Senecas ain’t lookin’ none too happy over there.”
Colin followed his gaze. “I agree. Maybe they’d have been in a better frame of mind if they hadn’t brought their families along. I wouldn’t want to have mine here right now.”
Kinyon glanced around and gave a wry grimace. “I’m startin’ to wonder why I came. I don’t see how we’ll ever stand off the number of French and Indians that’re marchin’ this way.”
“I’m sure Washington will have a dispatcher ride out for reinforcements. Our job will be to hold ’em off till then.”
“Hmph. I sure hope you’re right.” Kinyon helped himself to the flask again and took another swallow before returning it. “Better get back to work. Rose wouldn’t appreciate me losin’ all this purty hair.”
Having witnessed a few gory scalpings, Colin ambled over to another worker and handed him the flask. “Take a breather. I’ll take over for a while.”
The long afternoon dragged on. Not until a couple of hours after dark did Colin finally find a chance to retire to his tent and read his letters by wavering lantern light—with Tuck staring from a cot opposite him, desperate for word from Tori.
“I’ll read the one from my father to you first.” Colin smirked. “I’ll not be readin’ the one from Mariah out loud.”
“But what if she—”
“If she says somethin’ about Victoria, I’ll let you know.” He broke the seal and opened the first one:
My dear son,
I trust all is going well with you and the militia. I have heard disturbing news about the number of Frenchmen coming down from Canada. If at any time you wish to relinquish your commission and come home, I am certain I can pay another to take your place. In the meantime, be extremely careful. Your mother, especially, is most worried.
The girls send their love, as does Mariah and all our people.
Your loving father
Post Script: Tori is nagging at me to send Dennis her warmest regards.
Tuck reached for the letter. “Did she send Rochester her ‘warmest regards,’ too?”
“See for yourself.” Colin relinquished the missive, hoping it would hold his friend’s attention long enough for him to read the one from Mariah. He quickly broke the seal and spread the letter to catch the light from the hanging lantern:
My dear, dear Colin,
I miss you so. I pray each night that the Lord will send you back to me soon. We are all so worried about you. Your mother is convinced you will come down with some dreaded disease even before the Indians have a chance to kill you. I try to be more optimistic, because I know what a valiant hero you are. I am sure God would not take someone as worthy as you. Do come back to me soon.
With my deepest, dearest regards,
Your Mariah
His heart contracting, Colin smiled. My Mariah. How he wished he was with her at this moment, inhaling the fragrance that was hers alone, devouring the sight of her beauty, tasting those luscious lips…. Folding the treasured missive, he tucked it inside his shirt, next to his heart, then stretched his weary body out on the canvas cot and closed his eyes.
“Well, did she say anything about Victoria?”
“No.” Utterly spent, Colin let out a deep breath. “Blow out the light and get some sleep.”
But for Colin, sleep refused to come. The thought that he might not return to Mariah kept him awake. An army ten—maybe twenty times their number was marching toward them, intent on taking their lives. He and everyone else here could be dead within the next few days.
Dead…and he had yet to make peace with his Maker.
Listening for Tuck’s breathing to even out in slumber, Colin slipped off his cot and sank to his knees.
Father in heaven, “hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread—”
Yes, Father, the cook says we have only enough flour and meal for one more day, and we’ve already done without for days. The men won’t have the strength to finish the fort if we don’t receive more food.
And Lord, forgive me anyone I’ve trespassed upon. I cannot think of anyone lately, unless it’s my parents. You know I proposed marriage to Mariah without their approval. But You also know their disapproval was only because of her lack of a dowry. Aren’t we supposed to be storing our treasure in heaven?
He shifted his weight from one knee to the other. All right. I guess I’m trying to justify my dishonoring of my parents with a lie by omission. Now, where did I leave off? Oh yes, there’s a huge enemy army heading this way to trespass all over us. I know You want me to forgive them, but I’d much rather have them change their mind and go back to Canada. I’d sure appreciate You putting them in the mind to do that.
What comes next? “Lead us not into temptation.” Well, Father, You know I have no access to that at the moment. But delivering us from evil is uppermost right now. Please deliver us, and I promise from this day forth I shall always pray for Your guidance first, instead of jumping into things like a stupid fool. And if You bless me and Mariah with children, I’ll teach them to honor You and follow You all the days of their lives. Bless and keep all of us who are here at Fort Necessity, as George Washington dubbed this pathetic, half-finished place. And please give the commander the wisdom he needs to bring us through.
I ask this in the precious name of our Lord Jesus. For Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.
Rising from his knees, Colin lay down again on his cot, and for the first time in months, a restful sense of peace washed over him. Moisture filled his eyes. God had heard his prayer.
Chapter 27
Bone weary, Colin felt as if every muscle in his body protested as he strained to assist a couple of his men struggling to heft a heavy log with a swivel cannon mounted on it. “Easy…easy…” He grunted as they positioned the unwieldy weapon over the gaping hole that would hold it steady, then dropped the post in with a thud. Colin straightened and stretched his back. What on earth was he still doing here? Monakaduto and the Indians had sneaked out three nights ago, leaving the depleted ranks to fend for themselves. He should have deserted last night as so many of the smarter militia had done.
Small wonder they’d all cut out. He glanced behind him to the pitiful fortification
they’d managed to build. Spindly spikes a mere seven feet tall surrounded their tents and the tiny hut where their meager stock of powder and other supplies were stored. If they had enough black powder for even two shots at each of the French and Indians in the force coming against them, Colin would be mightily surprised. And if the gunpowder stayed dry once the rain started up, it would be nothing less than a miracle.
He turned to a pair of young men nearby. “Bring out your cannonballs and fixin’s. Then you two stay out here to man the swivel. The scouts say the enemy will be here within the hour.”
“Just us two out here in the meadow, sir?” Private Walker’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he cast a timorous look back at the stockade.
The lad had every right to be afraid. Colin clapped him on the shoulder, hoping to instill a measure of courage. “For now it’ll be you and the other artillery men. When the time comes, the rest of us’ll join you.”
As Colin turned to go and check the progress of the other eight swivel cannons being put into position, he spotted Nate Kinyon coming toward him from the fort, so he moved out of earshot of the two privates.
The frontiersman glared up at the ominous clouds in the sky and wagged his head as he reached Colin. “Man, I sure wish you would’a snuck out with them other boys last night. You’re gonna be mighty hard to protect once the shootin’ starts.”
“If I’d have done that, I wouldn’t be much of an officer and a gentleman, would I?”
“No, I reckon not. But leastways you’d’a been alive to see tomorrow come.”
Daughters of Harwood House Trilogy : Three Romances Tell the Saga of Sisters Sold into Indentured Service (9781630586140) Page 54