by Anna Small
As if he sensed her feelings, he broke their embrace, but framed her face in his hands. His face was so close she could make out the tiny, precious details. She would never forget the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, or the sooty lashes framing his eyes, bluer than the ocean on a summer day. He was foreign and familiar at the same time, as if she had known him in another life, or perhaps a dream. His kisses had awakened something in her she had never thought she’d feel again. That, alone, was a miracle worth having.
“I am in no position to make you any promises. If I but knew who I was…or where my future lies…”
She pressed her fingers to his lips, silencing words she dreaded to hear. She shook her head.
“Just stay alive.” And come back to me.
She didn’t say the last aloud. The look in his eyes assured her he knew her meaning. When he lowered his head to kiss her again, she turned away but leaned into his side. He draped his arm around her waist, and they walked back to the cottage.
Chapter Eight
The cottage had a different air to it. Before Samuel’s arrival, the rustic building was the home she’d shared with Caleb, those few, wonderful years they’d had before destiny and war called him away. She almost didn’t recognize the cottage. Fading sunlight and the approaching dusk coated the humble walls in a warm glow she had never noticed before. Or perhaps it had never existed until now.
They faced each other before the hearth, eyes locked in a breathless gaze she dared not break. Although she had been in his arms a few minutes before, she was suddenly shy. She indicated the dried blood at his hairline.
“Your head…”
“Bother my head.”
They fell toward each other as if pulled by an invisible yoke. The two years between now and Caleb’s absence hit her like a void. Overwhelmed by a rush of emotions spanning joy and despair and everything in between, she kissed him until it felt like she couldn’t kiss him any harder or longer.
His hands spanned her face and throat and then down her arms as he caressed her through her sleeves. Her collar was too tight; her stays, crushing and unyielding. A shuddering breath escaped her when he loosened her dress. The material rustled to the floor with her petticoat, and then he untied the laces on her stays. Caleb had carved a delicate ivory busk before he’d sailed. She’d worn it close to her heart for the last two years. It fell to the floor with the rest of her stays.
His lips burned the side of her throat. Heat from the fire warmed her skin, but when she glanced down, she realized the source of heat came from his hands on her bare arms. Her muslin shift fluttered against her skin with the thudding of her heart. She closed her eyes and linked her hands around his head, which lowered to her chest. She wasn’t aware he’d untied the tapes at the front until his lips, teasing and gentle, skimmed her breast.
The table pressed into her back. She made a complaint; a noise or something, and he slid to the floor in a fluid movement, taking her with him.
They faced each other on the hearth, her legs straddling his. She wanted more kisses, but he held her at bay to pull his shirt over his head. He must have removed his coat when they returned to the cottage, but she couldn’t remember. Half her conscious thought had fled like sparks from the fire the moment he kissed her. She tripped her fingers over his collarbone, pressing a fingertip to the rapid pulse in his throat, then slid her hands over his chest. The broad muscles flexed at her touch and a rise of gooseflesh scattered across his skin. She couldn’t recall if Caleb’s muscles had flexed a certain way, or remember his reaction to her touch. His eyes smoldered like embers burning beneath the sea. Nothing in her past mattered now. All she had was the present. All she had was Samuel.
His lips moved and she wondered if he’d spoken but was unaware of any sound except the blood rushing in her ears as if a tidal wave had swept away everything else in the world but him. She held on to him as he nuzzled her throat, his mouth trailing heavy kisses down to her bare shoulder where he’d pushed aside her shift. Muttering a soft groan, he lifted her onto him.
A shudder coursed through her, catching her tight in a grip of passion wished for and spent. She answered his thrusts in an unconscious response older than the sea, older than the world, which erupted in a brilliant explosion of white light behind her eyelids. She didn’t know if she cried out his name or Caleb’s name at the end. Only knew that her lips burned with the name of the man she loved.
His ragged breathing slowed. He cradled her in his arms, awkwardly covering her with her shift, which had slipped to her waist. He brushed the damp hair from her face and kissed her tenderly.
“I’m so sorry, Abby. We need to go.”
His voice breached the heavy stillness in the cottage. It took her a moment to comprehend his meaning. Her mouth tingled from the touch of his lips. She could still taste him on her tongue. Felt him, hard and shaking, inside her.
“Yes.”
She could find no other words. She rose on trembling legs, confused at what her actions should be. What must he think of her? Leon was right. His vile words had painted her true. She fumbled with her dress and got lost amongst the folds. He helped her with the fastenings, then took her hand.
“Look at me, my dearest.”
She blinked hard, and a tear dropped onto his sleeve.
“We have no time. We have to leave.”
“Abby…”
His breath warmed her wrist when he kissed her palm. She glanced up at him, unsure what she would see in his eyes.
“I can make no promises to you, Abby, except to tell you my heart is yours. I want you to remember that, no matter what happens.”
A kiss followed his words. She found a safe, yet brief, haven in his arms. They dressed quickly, but she left her stays. They had a long journey ahead, and she needed to be strong. She worked alongside him and gathered what they would need, instinctively knowing he would never return. Caleb’s heavy wool coat hung by the door on a hook, just as it had since the day he left. God alone knew what trials Samuel might face in the days ahead. She snatched it as they hurried outside.
The cliffs and beach below were empty. The path through the woods to Elias’s house lay ahead. Leon wouldn’t think to go there first but would probably head for Lobster Cove, to rally anyone foolish enough to follow him. Perhaps his need for vengeance against her would grant them enough time to make their escape and get Samuel to safety.
They held hands as they walked. She tried to press the imprint of his hand into hers so she could bear his mark. Something that would be a reminder of what little, precious time they’d shared. It was too much to consider a future without him, so she dwelled on the present as much as she could.
He paused at an oak to shift the supplies they carried and took most of hers from her. Abigail traced her finger over a mark on the tree. He indicated the marks.
“What’s this?”
“Caleb’s initials. He carved them when he was a boy. He always meant to add mine.”
She didn’t need to explain further. Samuel set his hands on his hips as he examined the tree.
“No reason we can’t do it now.” He removed a small knife from his belt. It had belonged to Caleb’s father, and she had given it to him as part of the tools he might need during his journey.
“A.Q.” He stood back to admire his handiwork. Her initials were just below Caleb’s and done in the same style so they matched. Except for the exposed new wood, her initials looked as if they had always been there.
She touched his sleeve.
“Add yours.”
She didn’t want to say his mark on the tree was like marking her in some way, or would be something physical to look at and touch when he was gone. She didn’t have to explain herself at all, because he understood. A flush crept up his throat to settle on his cheeks. She nearly laughed at the idea her proper English soldier had the capacity to blush.
He carved the wood beneath her name.
“These aren’t my real initials,
of course.” He slipped the knife back into his belt and swung the sack over his shoulder. “But they will have to do.”
“You can add your real initials once you know your true name.”
And when you return. She ran her finger around the curves of the double S’s. He kissed her forehead and agreed with her, as if it were possible all would be well and he would return. Abigail held his hand as they started out again. She didn’t look back at either the cottage or the sea that had brought them together, fearing it would ultimately tear them apart.
Chapter Nine
They walked silently through the woods toward Elias’s home. The forest was bare of any other human sound, and she eased into a normal pace beside him, almost as if they were two lovers on a peaceful walk together. Samuel had tucked Caleb’s musket inside his coat; a not very subtle reminder this was not a pleasure trip, but one that could mean life or death.
She didn’t want to think how Elias would react when she showed up on his doorstep with an English officer literally in hand. While not hotheaded like Leon, Elias resented the British troops settled in the north as much as the next American did. Elias and she were not too young that they didn’t remember the early years following the first war with England. Several uncles and cousins had fought in that war and most had not returned. Lobster Cove had its share of wounded souls. Poor Jotham Peabody took the impact of a British musket ball through his skull. Miraculously, he survived but returned from battle a different man. Pleasant and sociable before, he now spent the days on his front porch, whittling away on knobs of pine Elias brought him.
Elias wasn’t the only one whose reaction she feared. Men like Mr. Hearst, who’d been captured at Saratoga and spent the remainder of the war in a prison hulk, would likely raise the war cry over a British soldier in their midst. There were others, too. Plenty more, if she gave too much thought to her worries. Perhaps they should turn around now, and head for the English forts lining the Canadian border. All she had to do was get Samuel to safety. She’d worry about finding her own way home later.
Oblivious to her thoughts, Samuel quickened his pace as the acrid smell of Elias’s fire reached them through the woods. In fewer than one hundred yards, they would be in sight of her brother’s home. Her heart thudded against her ribs, and she clenched his hand for a moment. He gave her a reassuring smile.
“Do not worry, my love. I’ll be ready to run should the need arise.” His mouth twisted ironically. “I have no wish to fight anyone, in my injured state, anyway. Knocking that pan about your brother-in-law’s head winded me.”
Her lips quivered into a smile at the memory of Leon’s startled expression when her good frying pan connected with the back of his head. It wasn’t surprising the blow had not done more than rile him. He could wrestle a bear and probably win should the idea ever occur to him.
“Thank you for coming out when you did. He does have an unpleasant way about him.”
“That is quite an understatement.” He pressed the back of her hand to his lips and stopped in his tracks. “Promise me something, Abby.”
She touched the ivory buttons on the shirt Caleb used to wear.
“Anything.”
“Regardless of what happens to me, do not stay in the cottage. Live with your brother, or…” His throat moved as he gulped. “Find a decent, caring man to marry you. I do not like that you live out there all alone.”
A lump of tears filled her throat.
“I thought…” Her breath hitched. “I thought you would try and come back.”
“I will.” He kissed her, hard. “I will, my dearest. But, if something happens to me…if I am unable to return…”
Her mind filled with terrible visions of Samuel locked away in an American prison, shackled to a filthy wall, starved and beaten. Worse, he could be lost at sea, as so many…well, as Caleb had been.
She shook her head, her eyes closed tightly.
“Nothing will happen. You will come back to me.”
“So I will.”
“How long should I wait?”
He grinned despite their mutual sadness. Lifting her chin with his fingertip, he kissed her on the forehead before responding.
“Ten years and a day, and one day more.”
“Twenty years and a day. But not one day more.”
He laughed. “No. Not a single day more.”
He slipped his arm around her waist and they continued walking. The sound of her nieces and nephews playing outside reached them. She steeled herself to face her brother. Stealing a glance at her companion, she noted Samuel’s set jaw and unwavering gaze straight ahead. Her heart filled with pride and a sense of hope. Surely, everything would work to their advantage. Elias could take them to the nearest fort, and Samuel would learn his identity. The war would end quickly, and he would come back to Lobster Cove, ready to join her in their new life together.
It was too much to consider anything less.
****
They found Elias in his stable, laying down fresh hay for his horses. Abigail begged Samuel to remain hidden until she spoke to her brother, but he insisted he accompany her. She looked down at their entwined fingers. Her wedding ring pressed into her palm from his firm grip. Drawing strength from his courage, she steeled herself for a confrontation, unsure of how Elias would react when he saw them. He looked up from his task when they entered the stable.
He smiled at first, but his expression changed abruptly to suspicion.
“We need your help,” she said. She wanted to drop Samuel’s hand in order to allay her brother’s concern, but his grip tightened.
Elias dropped the pile of hay in his arms and hooked his thumbs in his waistband. Her brother seemed much older than his true age of thirty. The loss of young Patrick had taken its toll. His eyes scanned the stable, and she realized he was looking for a weapon.
“Who is this, Abby?”
“A friend.” She swallowed hard. “I saved his life. He is a sailor who was swept overboard during the storm last week.” She released Samuel’s hand. Better to ease Elias’s anger rather than encourage it.
“A friend.”
Elias walked deliberately out of the stall and stood before them. His direct stare sized up Samuel. Always quick to defend her, Elias would not hesitate to start a fight, and she wanted to avoid any quarrel, especially since Samuel had not regained all his strength.
Samuel’s chin lifted and he held out his hand.
“I do not have a name to give you, as I regret I lost my memory when I fell overboard. Your sister was kind enough to assist me. But I need to return to the nearest British fort as soon as possible.”
For my safety as well as hers. She could almost hear his unspoken sentiment. She felt it too real herself. At any moment, Leon could be rounding up men from the town and on his way to either her cottage or to Elias’s house, when it was obvious she wasn’t home. “Brother, please…”
He shook her hand from his arm, his steely gaze unwavering from Samuel.
“So, you’re the reason my sister didn’t want me at the cottage. What kind of game is this, sir? Who are you, really, and what do you want?”
“I wish I knew. But I may assure you, I mean none of you any harm. Especially Abigail.” His voice softened as he looked at her. “I was hoping to find answers in the north. Abigail told me you have contacts across the border. Perhaps the answer to my identity may be found there.”
“What else has she told you?” Elias’s eyes narrowed. She stepped forward and touched his arm.
“Elias, don’t. What he says is the truth. I found him on the beach, nearly dead…”
“You should have left him there to rot.” He shook off her hand, his face darkening like the sun disappearing behind a bank of clouds. “What is one more dead English soldier? Have you forgotten what those bastards did to Caleb? Or to Jotham Peabody, and God knows how many others we’ve lost in this war and the last?”
Samuel’s lips were tight.
“I am sorry
for your losses, sir, even those I had nothing to do with. I cannot explain my circumstances, but I pledge to you, on my honor”—he laid his hand over his breast—“my intentions regarding your sister and the people of your town are without malice.”
Elias stared him down, but Samuel never wavered. He glanced at Abigail, and she nearly quivered with relief. If he meant to be hostile, his anger was quickly vanquished. Finally, he jerked his head toward the house.
“Come inside, both of you. We’ll have to tell Patience and get the wagon hitched.” He heaved a sigh and shook his head, but his eyes twinkled as he turned to Abigail. “I haven’t seen you so alive in ages, sister.”
****
Patience wasted no time packing food, water, and supplies, which Elias and Samuel loaded into the wagon. The clattering of hoof beats rang on the hard earth outside, and Abigail hastened to the door, the blood clamoring in her ears. Had Leon managed to convince any of the men from the Cove to ride with him, intent on harming Samuel?
She ran outside to confront whatever terror awaited, but it was only Jotham Peabody, astride his dappled horse. Samuel and Elias were speaking with him, and while Jotham didn’t look very threatening, his opinion carried weight among the other villagers. Patience pulled her back inside.
“Let the men take care of it,” she urged, piling blankets and other supplies into Abigail’s arms. “Elias and Jotham are close friends. If anyone can persuade Jotham to do what’s right, it’s Elias.”
“But…Leon…”
“Is a pig,” Patience finished for her. She pursed her lips. “If I had known… Oh, Abby, why would you not tell us how he’s acted toward you? If I ever see him again, I’ll crack his skull with my own skillet.”
Abigail set the blankets on the table and hugged her sister-in-law.
“It won’t do any good, I’m afraid. Samuel…I mean, Mr. Smith couldn’t even put a dent in Leon’s thick head.”
“Well, thank goodness, you’re safe now.” They broke apart, and Patience rubbed Abigail’s arms. “Samuel…I mean, Mr. Smith, is a handsome man. I don’t wonder that you told Elias not to come around for a few days. I’d have kept him all to myself, if I could.”