The Heart's Stronghold

by Amanda Barratt

  Something didn’t set right in his mind. Christopher looked to the sergeant. “And you witnessed the event?”

  Steven lifted his chin. “I did, sir. I was there to assist.”

  “What exactly did you see?”

  “Peter had trouble with keeping the ropes straight, sir. His feet were in the middle of them. I tried to warn him, sir, but it was too late.”

  “I see.” But he didn’t. Could the sergeant be lying? Christopher turned back to the young soldier. “Is this what happened?”

  The young man looked to the sergeant and then back at him. A bit of fear flashed across his features. Then he swallowed. “Not that I recall, sir. The ropes were not near my feet. Mr. Howland wanted to test the pulley, and I was straightening the lines.”

  “Why were you helping with the pulley? Had I not assigned you to the stone piles?”

  Peter glanced at the sergeant again. His face turned red.

  “I expect an answer.”

  “The sergeant told me to, sir.”

  Now that wasn’t surprising in the least. Christopher turned to the sergeant and raised his eyebrows. “Sergeant?”

  “With the pulleys going to work today, sir, I saw the need for more hands over at the wall.”

  “I see. So you decided to supplant my order.”

  “It was necessary. And if I might add sir, this accident is clearly because of Miss Howland’s presence.”

  Samuel stepped forward. “I say! Esther was not anywhere near—” The older man sputtered. “How dare you blame my daughter!”

  Christopher held up a hand. “Sergeant, there is no need for you to bring your superstitions into this matter. We deal in facts. Not gossip. Miss Howland’s presence has nothing to do with the matter. More likely it was because you were present.”

  Steven’s lip curled.

  “Captain, if I might add something.” Peter’s voice cracked.

  “Of course.” Christopher took a deep breath to calm himself. Steven was becoming a problem.

  “Miss Howland wasn’t around. She was still over at the rock piles. So she could not have had anything to do with this.”

  “But ’tis bad luck to have her here. Are you blind? Have you not seen what all has happened? There’s a reason the colonel was vocal about the curse. He believed in it too.” Steven’s face was hard and full of anger.

  “Sergeant. That is enough. There will be no more about a curse.” He turned to Peter. “I am most glad you came out of this unscathed. From now on, your orders are to assist at the rock piles.”

  “Yes, sir.” The young man hurried off.

  “Mr. Howland, is your pulley system in working order?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Good. I’m glad there wasn’t any damage done. My apologies for the sergeant’s words.” Christopher gave a pointed glance at Steven and then back to Mr. Howland. “I am sorry to have taken your time.”

  Mr. Howland nodded, but the wariness in his eyes couldn’t be mistaken. What man wouldn’t be wary? Especially when there seemed to be those bent on blaming his daughter. Christopher was sure the older man had begun to worry for her safety. If Christopher was in his shoes, he most certainly would. With a prayer for wisdom, he turned back to Steven. “Sergeant, you were out of line.”

  The man squinted at him but didn’t say anything.

  “Might I remind you, I have already given my orders pertaining to the rumors about a curse and the treatment of Miss Howland. You have directly disobeyed both of them. Moreover, you changed Peter’s orders without instruction from me.”

  Steven straightened his shoulders but remained silent.

  “This evening after supper you will report back to me. I will have the disciplinary action decided by then.”

  “Yes, Captain.” The sarcastic tone wasn’t lost on Christopher.

  As the sergeant walked away, Christopher swiped a hand down his face. No matter how much he tried to fix this problem, it only seemed to get worse. The facts were becoming all too clear.

  Miss Howland’s presence was a problem.

  Chapter 7

  For two days there’d been nothing but accidents. At least it seemed that way to Christopher. And as much as he tried to speak to Miss Howland and encourage her at mealtimes, there was nothing he could do to lift her spirits. She became quieter—if that was even possible—and avoided all eye contact.

  Seeing her spirit crushed in such a way was disheartening. The fairer sex should be treated with respect and dignity. Instead, she’d been labeled, accused, and gossiped about.

  It didn’t help that all this was a blow to his own ego. No matter what he said to his men, the rumors seemed to spread. He was supposed to be in command here, and yet when it came to this superstitious nonsense, his men saw only one thing—a woman in their presence, the cause of the curse.

  Unacceptable. But how could he change it?

  It would take an act of God to get them to see her as anything other than the cause of all their problems.

  And Christopher didn’t have that kind of power.

  He’d prayed and prayed for a miracle. For a change of heart for the men. For them to see what a lovely person Miss Howland was. To appreciate her help.

  But nothing had changed. Only more accidents had occurred. And no matter how minor, they always blamed the curse. And thus … Miss Howland.

  The more time he spent around her, the more he realized what a fascinating woman she was. Granted, she was quite young, but her wisdom and maturity in the face of unpleasant circumstances never ceased to amaze him.

  The sound of musket fire reached his ears. What on earth? The men shouldn’t be attending drills right now. They were all to be working on the fort walls.

  Another shot rang out.

  Christopher ran toward the sound.

  There was no call from the tower guard. No shouts or cries of distress. They couldn’t be under attack, could they?

  He scanned the horizon.

  No ships.

  Another shot.

  Where was it coming from? It seemed to echo all around him.

  Then another.

  He turned in a circle. Squinting, he saw men at the point. They were the ones ordered to fish for Cook. Why would they fire a musket?

  Running in that direction, Christopher tried to piece it all together. And nothing made sense.

  When he reached the peninsula, he saw one of his men helping another to his feet. “What has happened here?”

  “I do not know, sir.” The soldier’s eyes were wild. “We were just fishin’. Like we was supposed to. Then all of a sudden we heard the first shot. Then another. The rocks around us were pinging. Then, before you know it, Robert here was on the ground. Someone shot him in the foot!”

  Christopher looked at the wound. “Thankfully, it looks like the musket ball ricocheted off one of the rocks and just grazed him.”

  Robert’s eyes were a bit glassy. “I am fine, sir. I thought it was much worse.” He looked down and then away. “I am not too good with the sight of me own blood.”

  “Get him to Cook. I am certain he can be patched up.”

  As the two soldiers hobbled away, Christopher scanned the island from the point. A shot could be taken from many different areas to hit this spot. But who would do such a thing? And why? Accuracy with a flintlock musket was difficult at any distance. So could the shooter have been aiming at something else?

  What else was out here?

  For the next half hour, he looked for signs, any kind of tracks that would give him a hint. But the only thing he found were footprints in the sand at the beach where many of the men bathed. Lots of them. And nothing that pointed to the firing of a musket.

  John, his lieutenant, approached from the north. “Captain, I believe we have a problem.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Robert will be fine, but someone has stirred up more rumors.”

  He let out a sigh. “About Miss Howland?”

  “Yes, sir.” J
ohn looked resigned. “They are saying that no one is safe with her here. And that we did not have accidents and problems when a woman wasn’t on the island.”

  “It’s a bunch of nonsense.”

  “I know, sir. But the younger men are beginning to listen to the superstitions of soldiers who served under the colonel before—Steven in particular. And with Robert getting shot—and no idea who the culprit is—I’m afraid we will soon have a revolt.”

  “A revolt? You cannot be serious.” Christopher shook his head. “In all my years, I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  “I would not want word getting to Boston and Colonel Brown, sir.”

  “Agreed.” Christopher shook his head and let out a long breath. The colonel had delayed his trip back to Castle Island several times. As selfish as it sounded, Christopher didn’t want to take the chance that the superior officer might rescind the command. What was worse—losing the command or losing Miss Howland? The question instantly surprised him. When had he begun to think of her as part of his life? Or that she would remain a part? But he did think of her often. He cared for her.

  Not that he had any right or claim to her.

  “Well?” John gave him a pointed look.

  “I shall go speak to Miss Howland.”

  Feeling like a complete failure for being unable to keep his men in check, he headed toward the bastions.

  Peter stood next to Miss Howland as she pointed to several large stones.

  “Miss Howland, might I have a moment of your time?”

  Her serene exterior didn’t cover the distress in her eyes. “Yes, Captain.”

  “My apologies for the interruption.”

  “I understand why you are here. I have heard nothing but comments from the men since that young man was shot.” She clasped her hands in front of her and looked at the ground.

  “As much as it pains me to say this, my men haven’t been heeding my direction. You see, the colonel who was in charge before me is quite a superstitious man.”

  “There’s really no need to explain.”

  “But I feel that I must.” He paced in front of her. “I do not believe in such things. I do not believe that the island is cursed. And I definitely do not believe that you are the cause of all the accidents. But until I can ascertain what is going on and the cause behind all the mishaps, I need to ask you to stay in your cabin and away from the work area for a few days.”

  She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. A moment later, she said, “I had a feeling you would say something of the sort.” Looking back down at her hands, she smoothed her skirt. “Would you please let Papa know where I have gone?” She lifted her chin enough for him to see a sheen of tears.

  But before he could say anything else, she left.

  Christopher watched her hurry away. It felt like someone was squeezing his heart. Perhaps he cared more for her than he realized. When had her quiet ways slipped in and gotten ahold of him?

  “ ’Tis not right.” Peter stepped toward him. “I know it’s not your fault, Captain, but ’tis not right.” The young soldier lifted his chin.

  A bold statement from a subordinate. But a truthful one.

  Peter continued. “Miss Howland is smart. And nice. I do not know why the men think poorly of her. Like when Sergeant Jones told me to stay away from her and go work somewhere else. It doesn’t make sense. Especially since I woulda been safer here.”

  “Wait. What did you just say?” His mind shifted back to the details of the day.

  “Miss Howland is nice. And smart.”

  “No. After that. What did Sergeant Jones say?”

  “It didn’t make sense to me that Sergeant Jones told me to stay away from her. He told me to go work somewhere else.”

  “He specifically told you to stay away from her? Not just to go help with the pulleys? When did he say that?”

  “Right before I got hung up in that pulley. When he told me to go work with Mr. Howland.” Peter wiped his hands on his breeches. “I had just asked Miss Howland to teach me how she picked out the right stones. It seemed odd for him to be watching like that and then to be so angry about her teaching me anything. Especially since she’s so good at it. Not that I have ever seen a woman work, even with her father being—”

  “Peter, thank you.” He didn’t mean to cut off the young man, but the situation had become clear.

  Sitting beside the fire, Steven stared into the flames. So far his plan had gone as he hoped. The men believed in the curse, and most of them were scared to death that a female was on the island.

  And the captain had relegated her to her cabin. Now if Steven could just get her banned from the island altogether, they would be fine.

  One thing was certain. He wasn’t willing to die in service to the King just because of some woman. No telling what kind of horrible damage she could cause.

  Why weren’t more men willing to listen to reason? It wasn’t superstition. Curses were real. And if they didn’t pay attention, another one—possibly even worse—could come down on them. They could be overrun by some horrible disease. Or … they could be attacked!

  The witch back in Boston had told the colonel as much. Steven had heard it as he’d eavesdropped through the curtain. The captain was foolish not to heed the same warnings.

  But Steven wasn’t foolish. He paid attention.

  He’d just have to get rid of her. For good.

  Chapter 8

  Three weeks had passed and Esther hadn’t even left the cabin. Ever since Captain Latham spoke to her, she’d insisted that Sam or Papa bring her food so she wouldn’t have to be seen. At all. Convincing herself it was best this way, she spent time sewing. And reading Papa’s Bible. And hiding.

  So far she’d stitched two new shirts for both Papa and Sam and had read through the entire Word from Genesis to Revelation. She’d spent several days just reading and rereading First Peter, clinging to the verses about joy through suffering. Her next project was a new boned bodice she’d hoped to finish over the winter with a lace-edged linen apron to wear over her skirt. But with nothing else to occupy her time, she could probably have both of those finished within the week. Then everything she’d brought with her to stitch over the winter would be done. And the first snow hadn’t even fallen yet.

  Papa seemed weary from all the hard work, but said at least the mishaps had ceased.

  Which didn’t help Esther feel any better. She didn’t believe in curses, but she was beginning to believe that someone didn’t want her here. Why else would the accidents have happened?

  It couldn’t be a coincidence that bad things occurred when she was around. But why would someone do that?

  Putting her hands to her head, she squeezed. All this time alone with her thoughts wasn’t prosperous. She’d begged Papa to allow her to return to Boston, but there was no place for her to go. They’d leased their house for the year since they were going to be building the fort. And no one else had room. She’d sent letters, but alas, every answer was no.

  A gust of wind shook the small cabin. Winter had come early.

  In just a few days, November would be upon them.

  If she didn’t leave, that meant she’d have to stay all winter. Like this. Locked up in the cabin with no company.

  Oh, in the beginning Captain Latham had stopped by every day, but she’d given excuse after excuse about how it didn’t help his cause to be seen around the cabin. Eventually he stopped coming by.

  Now she missed him. And the fact that it seemed like he cared.

  She’d always been a quiet sort, but she found herself aching for a companion. Someone to share her thoughts with. She’d never been one to need much company, and the realization startled her. And made her wish the captain would come back. She cared for him more than she had allowed herself to admit.

  Papa and Sam were so tired whenever they came in that there wasn’t much conversation. Other than talk of the fort. Which walls were progressing and how much longer before all the basti
ons were done.

  She didn’t want them feeling sorry for her, but what could be done? There was no other option for her other than to stay and wait for the fort to be finished.

  She blew out a breath. Rejoice. Always. With joy inexpressible. She hadn’t had much joy of late. Maybe she needed to read First Peter again.

  Urgent pounding sounded at the door.

  Esther jolted off her stool and put a hand to her chest. At the door she took a breath before opening it, praying that nothing had happened to Papa or Sam.

  “Miss Howland? It’s Captain Latham.” His deep voice came through the heavy wood.

  At the sound of it, her heart picked up its pace. She opened the door. “Yes? Is everything all right?”

  “I am afraid Cook has died.”

  “Oh. I am most sorry to hear that.” Cold air stung her cheeks, and she realized it was snowing. Quite abundantly. “Might I speak to you inside?”

  “Of course.”

  Once he was inside, he shook the snow from his clothes. “My apologies for muddying your floor, but I have an urgent request.”

  “Do not mind the floor.” She couldn’t keep her gaze from him. “What can I do for you?”

  “The harbor is already iced over. We weren’t expecting it this early in the winter, and it looks like there are storms coming our way. I know this has been very difficult for you, but I need to ask you to fill in for the cook. It will take weeks, possibly even months, before we can get a replacement, and there’s no one else on the island even barely capable.”

  She couldn’t help but stare at him and blink. Cook? For all the men? While it would be wonderful to get out of the cabin, it sounded like a daunting task. And she had no desire to listen to all the rumors start up again and face the nasty looks the men sent her way.

  “I know what you are thinking, and I have already assembled and spoken to all the men. While there are a few who still believe you are part of their ridiculous curse, the rest have agreed to let their superstitions die. It seems they would rather eat than think you are bad luck.”

  “I see.” The look in his eyes was different than what she’d seen before. “Does my father think it’s a good idea?”