All three of the men laughed at this. “It’s the bears that need to be careful,” Murphy said.
Abigail joined in, her laughter mixing with the men’s. “I believe you’re right.”
Jasper wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and started toward the structure. “I’ll check the snares in a few hours,” he said.
“Luke and I will check the snares,” Barney said helpfully. “I remember where they are.”
“And I’ll assist them,” Abigail said. “You sleep as long as you need to.”
Jasper nodded and crawled inside the shelter.
Abigail realized she was still holding the furry hat. She brushed her fingers through it once more then set it on the flat rock. She moved to the small shelter and knelt beside Luke. “How do you feel this morning?” She laid her fingers on his forehead. His skin was warm but not hot. She was surprised not to feel any fever at all.
“Hungry,” Luke said.
“I’ll check your arm, and then you can have some stew.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” The color had returned to his cheeks.
“Please, call me Abigail,” she said for the second time that day. She briefly wondered if she should just make a general announcement to the entire company that she would prefer to be called by her Christian name, instead of having to tell each man individually.
Abigail unwrapped the bandages, moving the splints and the inner wrappings. The arm was still swollen, hot, and very red, but there were no dark streaks and little seepage on the bandages. He appeared to be healing well, which surprised her. Of course, she was not disappointed to have Luke mend faster than she’d anticipated, but once he was well, she would depart for Detroit and Captain Prescott’s company would return to its regiment.
And the thought was unexpectedly sad. She supposed it was because she’d spent the better part of the winter alone, but she liked these men, and she imagined if Isaac and her father weren’t on the other side of the war, they’d like them as well. It was difficult to believe that only a few days earlier, she was practicing profanities to describe the American soldiers. An uncomfortable shame heated her belly when she remembered the words she’d used.
She thought the best way to make up for her unfounded judgments was to help these soldiers as much as she was able.
At least they would have a few days more together. And once they reached Detroit, she was sure they would be admitted under a flag of truce. They were, after all, peacefully accompanying her to see her father. And as an officer, Emmett would be treated especially well. Her father could inspect Luke’s wound and Emmett’s. He would know exactly what mixture of medicines the men needed, if they required further treatment, and when to remove the sutures. And he could listen to Murphy’s lungs.
Abigail made sure they all ate a sufficient breakfast, saving the remainder for Jasper to eat when he woke.
Isaac’s trousers were too large for Luke, so she gave them to Murphy. The knees of the older man’s trousers were nearly worn through, and she didn’t think they would hold another patch. Luke wore Isaac’s shirt over his own, and, though it was quite large, Abigail thought it was a wise idea. He needed all the warmth he could get.
Luke was weak but still accompanied Barney and Abigail through the forest, inspecting the snares. They’d caught two large hares, and the three prepared them, building a spit over the fire to slow-cook the meat.
In the afternoon, clouds started to cover the sun, making her worry the night would bring snow. Jasper must have had the same thought because he and Barney set out to replenish their firewood stores.
Abigail had just finished cleaning the stewpot when Emmett returned.
His face lit up in a smile, and her earlier embarrassment returned. “Are you still cold, Abigail?”
She liked his look of concern. Up close she could see the light blue of his eyes surrounded by a darker blue at the edge of his irises. “I am, rather, but if I keep moving, it warms me a bit.”
“Perhaps take a walk with me?” He offered his arm. “To keep moving.”
The lightness of his voice set her at ease. “I’d love to,” she said, clasping the inside of his elbow.
He led her away from the camp, and, after a moment, they climbed up a hill. They followed a path of tramped-down snow, and she decided this must be the route the men took to stand watch.
“How is your shoulder?” she asked.
“My shoulder?” He stepped high over a fallen log then reached for her hand, his fingers sliding beneath her elbow as he helped her over.
“You looked as though your shoulder was stiff this morning,” Abigail said. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, Abigail. That was by far the most pleasant night I’ve spent since . . . perhaps ever.”
“But, your shoulder suffered for it, and so did your men.”
He shook his head. “They didn’t suffer at all.” He tugged on her hand, leading her higher up the hill.
“They did extra duty to make sure I could sleep comfortably,” Abigail protested. She was starting to get out of breath. Where exactly was he taking her?
“I didn’t hear one complaint,” Emmett said. He continued climbing but slowed his pace. “I don’t think anything has ever made these soldiers as happy as fresh bread and your granny’s socks.”
She smiled. “They are good men.”
He nodded. “That is very true.”
“And they think highly of you, Emmett.”
He turned his head and studied her for a moment then continued onward. A moment later, they came upon Murphy, standing where he could look down over the camp and the area around it. Abigail caught glimpses of the main road through the treetops. They greeted him and continued. The way became more difficult now that the trodden path was gone. Emmett slowed and held on to her hand, walking at a leisurely pace. “Abigail, when will Luke be strong enough to march to Detroit?”
Her stomach sank at the change in topic. This must be why he’d wanted to speak to her privately. “Soon, I think. In the next few days. He will need to move slowly and rest often, but he is mending rapidly.”
“You seem surprised by his recovery,” Emmett said.
“I am surprised. He must have more strength in that slender body than I gave him credit for. That and a strong will to carry on.” She lifted her skirts as she stepped up onto a rock. “I did not imagine he would recover so quickly, if at all.”
Emmett stopped and faced her. “I attribute it to his excellent doctor.”
The praise brought a smile to her face. She stepped down, and they walked beneath the canopy of snowy branches. “I certainly cannot take all the credit. Jasper built a fine shelter that protected him from the elements, and Murphy took care of him. You knew where to find a doctor, and Barney helped bind his wounds. The entire company is responsible for his improvement.”
He lifted his hand and inclined his head in a motion that seemed more suited to a fancy party than a snowy forest. “Well, on this, we will agree to disagree.”
The way ahead was barred by thick undergrowth, so they stopped. “I’m glad you brought me to your camp, Emmett. I like your men very much.” She lowered her lashes. “And their captain.”
Emmett lifted her chin so their eyes met. He slipped a hand around her waist, pulling her toward him, and before she knew what had happened, his lips had captured hers.
Abigail thought her insides might melt. Her knees felt soft, and her heart beat wildly. She clutched the lapels of his jacket, eyes pressed closed, hoping the moment wouldn’t come to an end. In the back of her mind, she remembered reading about the high concentration of nerve endings in the human lips and thought it was a very effective place for them. She felt the kiss throughout her entire body.
Emmett stepped back, his thumb brushing over her lower lip. His eyes had darkened, and the sight made a shiver move through her middle. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something, but her thoughts were a jumble. She just stared at him, her face heating. Sh
e should say something amorous, she knew, but she had no words.
After a moment, Emmett flashed the flirting smile he’d used on the first day they’d met. “I don’t know if I’ve ever made a woman speechless before.”
“Yes, I . . . That was . . . nice.” Abigail decided saying nothing was better than idiotic babbling coming out of her mouth.
He laughed. “That it was, Abigail Tidwell.”
She felt a bit indignant. Was he having a laugh at her expense? “I’m sorry, Captain. You caught me off guard, and I have never learned the proper thing to say after a kiss.”
“Well.” He slid a hand beneath her ear, his thumb stroking her cheek. “When you find yourself in such a quandary, another kiss will keep you from having to say anything.”
Abigail was ready this time. When his lips touched hers, she slid her arms around him, careful of his wound, and held on to him tightly. She kissed him back instead of standing frozen like a statue, telling him wordlessly how her fondness for him had grown. And finally, gently, their lips parted. “Emmett, I don’t want to go to Detroit,” she said breathlessly, not opening her eyes. Along with her increased heart rate, an ache that was not explainable in medical terms grew in her chest.
He rested his forehead on hers, his hands dropping down to her shoulders. “I wish the situation were different. I wish we had a choice.”
She nodded. The ache had spread to her throat, and she worried it had impaired her larynx.
Emmett’s head jerked up suddenly, and Abigail looked around, fearing a wolf or some other danger was drawing close. A moment later she heard Murphy’s voice.
“Captain, come quickly! The British Army. It’s advancing toward Frenchtown.”
Chapter 10
Emmett crouched down at the sentry’s position, peering over a cluster of snow-laden bushes. Murphy and Abigail crouched beside him.
The cold metal of the spyglass stung his fingers, but he did not take any notice, counting quietly under his breath as he estimated the number of troops based on the length of the column he could see in glimpses between the trees. “At least six hundred regulars,” he muttered to Murphy. “Three cannons. One is a howitzer.”
Murphy didn’t respond. Emmett knew what the man was thinking, but neither of them said it aloud. The British Army was a threat in itself, but it was the large body of Indian warriors marching beside the red-coated soldiers that sent a cold spike of fear through his gut. His guess placed their number at more than eight hundred.
And they were all advancing toward the exhausted, untrained, and inexperienced men of his regiment. This army would slaughter them.
“How far to Frenchtown?” he asked.
“Ten, maybe twelve miles,” Murphy responded.
Dawn, then, Emmett realized. The attack would come at dawn. “We have to warn them.”
He rose to his feet but remained hunched down. He didn’t imagine the army could see him among the trees and shadows with the heavy cloud cover, but a glint of his brass coat buttons was all it would take to give away their position. Not that the British soldiers would be surprised to know their progress was being watched. They’d expect it. No, it wasn’t them he was worried about at all. The Indians were a different story altogether. In battle, they adhered to different rules. They were vicious and unpredictable, and . . . the cold feeling spread, energizing him to action. “Private Murphy, you, Corporal Webb, and I will leave immediately.”
He felt a tug on his hand.
Abigail’s eyes were wide. “Leave? You cannot leave.”
He clasped his fingers around her mittened hand and started toward the camp after Murphy. She stumbled, trying to keep pace with him on the downward incline, but he did not slow. He could not. It was time for action, and if he didn’t push away his own sentiments, his decision-making would be impaired. “I must,” he said. “Barney and Luke will accompany you to Detroit. You’ll be well-protected.” He pushed away more fears. The thought of Abigail being taken by the fierce native warriors made him feel like a band of iron was compressing his chest. He pushed away that feeling as well, concentrating on action. He couldn’t let his fondness for Abigail distract him from his duty.
“But it’s nearly dark and you’re still injured, Emmett. You mustn’t overexert yourself.”
A swell of affection rose inside him. Of course she was worried for his well-being over her own. He slowed his pace to walk alongside her and grasped her hand. “Abigail, that army is headed for my regiment. Men who look to me as their leader. Men who will fight and die tomorrow at dawn. I cannot neglect them. Not when they need me the most.”
Abigail remained silent, and Emmett could only imagine her thoughts. She must be terrified knowing a battle was coming. When they stepped back into the clearing, Murphy and Jasper were packing their gear. Luke and Barney stood at attention, worry manifesting in similar expressions on their faces.
Emmett released Abigail’s hand and stepped toward the brothers. “You two will deliver Miss Tidwell to Detroit. Be cautious; take suitable measures for her safety and Private Hopkins’s health.”
“Should we smother the fire, Captain?” Barney asked.
Emmett considered for a moment. The scouts had likely already seen the smoke. They may come to investigate, but he doubted it. Settlers lived throughout the forest, so chimney and hunting fires weren’t uncommon. His gut told him the army would focus on their march, hoping to arrive in time to rest their men and prepare for an attack at dawn. And there was a chance, with the heavy clouds, that they’d not seen it at all. As night fell, Abigail, Luke, and Barney would need the fire for warmth and to repel predators. In his mind, the benefits outweighed the risk. “Leave the fire,” he said.
He stepped closer to the two men, lowering his voice. He didn’t want to worry Abigail. “If you are taken, surrender immediately. Do not fight. Insist on speaking with an officer. Tell the truth of the mission, your regiment, Luke’s injury, how Miss Tidwell came to be with our company, all of it.” Nothing they said could hurt the mission now, and the officer would know men of their rank weren’t privy to any compromising information.
The brothers nodded their understanding.
Emmett turned and saw Jasper and Murphy wore their packs and haversacks. They held their weapons and were awaiting his order to move out. He grabbed his own pack.
Abigail stepped in front of him and grasped onto his forearm. “Emmett, wait.”
Her voice shook, and the sound caused his heart to ache. He led her to the far side of the clearing where they could have a bit of privacy.
“What do I do?” Her voice rose in tone as her panic grew. “Should we hide? I think it will snow. What about the wolves? The Indians? Luke is still very weak. What if the army finds us?”
Emmett dropped his gear and placed his hands on her shoulders, hoping to reassure her as he would any of his men, with a calm voice and logical discourse. “If you’re discovered, you’ll be taken safely to your father in Fort Detroit.”
“But Barney and Luke . . .”
“They are militia, not regulars. They’ll be quickly released.” Being captured would actually be a good situation for Abigail, he thought.
She shook her head as if unable to speak, and tears coursed from her eyes. A sob shook her and Abigail clamped her hand over her mouth. The sight made something inside of Emmett crack, and the feelings he’d kept at bay rushed out. It was with great effort that he pushed them back where they belonged. “Please don’t be afraid. Barney and Luke will keep you safe, Abigail.” He was surprised to hear the softer timbre of his voice as he tried to speak through a constricting throat.
He pulled her toward him, holding her tightly. When he glanced at the camp, he saw the other men had become suddenly attentive to their packs or the pile of firewood.
“We should all go together or stay,” Abigail said.
He drew back but didn’t release the embrace. He held her gaze as he spoke. “Abigail, I’m sorry. If I’d known . . . I’d never h
ave brought you here. It wasn’t my intention to leave you like this.”
“I’m scared.” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper.
“You’ll be safe. The wolves won’t come near the fire, and by tomorrow or the next day at the very latest, you’ll be with your father.”
Abigail’s brows furrowed and she shook her head, reminding him again of Lydia in a stubborn bout. “I do not fear for myself.” She darted her eyes to the side, swallowing, and then looked back at him. “You are going to fight that army. Those cannons are going to be aimed at you and Jasper and Murphy. You’re walking directly into danger, and I won’t ever know . . .” Her voice choked off, and she put her hand back over her mouth.
Emmett’s body felt heavy like it was filled with lead canister shot. “Do not fear for me.”
She turned her head to the side, crossing her arms, somehow managing to look defeated and petulant at the same time.
He caught her chin and touched his lips to hers. This time, the kiss wasn’t hopeful, there was no questioning either of their affection for the other. This was a farewell kiss, and Emmett was taken by surprise at how badly it hurt.
“Miss Abigail Tidwell, you are a black opal.” She blinked and wrinkled her nose, and Emmett smiled at the confused look on her face. “Beautiful, rare, interesting, and just when I believe I know you, I am surprised to find there is more depth than I imagined.”
Abigail’s eyes softened into an expression that warmed him from head to toe. Her brown eyes, still wet with tears, shone with pleasure at his words. Her mouth curved into a soft smile, and Emmett knew he would remember how she looked at this very moment for as long as he lived.
“Thank you, Emmett. I do not think anyone has ever paid me a more thoughtful compliment.”
“Goodbye, Abigail.” He brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek then turned quickly, forcing himself to step away. “Murphy, Webb—move out.”
He marched into the forest without looking back, knowing if he did, there was a very real possibility that he’d not have the strength to leave.
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