War of Hearts, A Historical Romance (5 page)

“What are you doing?” she spat in an angry
whisper. He reluctantly released her.

“I was showing you my feelings.”

“Your feelings? What about mine? Or your
wife’s?” Sarah retorted.

“She was not truly a wife, which is why I
left.”

“Indeed? And here I thought you left to
defend your country.”

“Sarah, I apologize for taking advantage.
However, I can stay silent no longer. When you left, I was afraid I
would never see you again. Never hear the lilt of your voice; never
see your smile brighten even in the darkest days. I confess…I am in
love with you.”

During his speech, Robert had sunk to his
knees on the floor, and grasped her hand. Sarah sat motionless on
the bed, not sure how to respond. She admired Robert greatly, but
love him? No. The only man who filled her thoughts was Silas, her
brother. Her heart was still mourning her loss. It was in no
condition to be given away.

“Robert, neither of our hearts are free. I
cannot accept yours, and mine is too shattered to offer.” She
pulled her hand away and watched as Robert silently stood and
headed out into the cold.

The winter wore on; Sarah could not keep
track of the days. Each one was as long and arduous as the next.
She had kept Robert’s advances to herself. It was awkward enough
without Margaret adding to her confusion.

Since their encounter, Robert was a bit
quieter than before. Every once in a while she would catch him
watching her, and she wasn’t sure how to respond.

She awoke one morning to see a robin pecking
at the hard ground. The birds had returned. Spring was near. The
men had been hard at work in their battalions. A Frenchman had come
weeks earlier and set about making changes. He reorganized the camp
into rows and set standards for sanitation. This task, in itself,
reduced the number of ill sent to the hospital.

On her breaks, Sarah would sometimes watch
the drills. It was a bit humorous listening to him swear in French.
When that lost the effect, he commissioned an interpreter to curse
at the men in English. The men’s aim steadily improved, and with
it, so did their confidence.

As the weather warmed, Sarah’s trepidation
grew. The men she had nursed all winter would soon march off to
face almost certain death.

Margaret sensed her mood and patted her
back. “They are strong; they will do well.”

A shadow passed over them, causing both to
look up. Again it was Washington’s aide sent to summon her. With an
apologetic glance to Margaret, she stood to follow.

***

She had a sense of deja’vu when she entered
the General’s cabin. Part of her wanted to run; however, the other
part was eager for another adventure. A change of scenery from the
endless sea of dilapidated men.

Washington stood when she entered and he
motioned for her to have a seat. “What is discussed here is for you
only. Pearson spoke highly of you during the Philly trek, and I
have come up with another proposition. The ground is thawing and
Cornwallis is heading back to New York. I want you to go as
well.”

“Me? But Sir, I wouldn’t know what to
do.”

“Exactly, we need someone who appears
innocent. Someone whom the British would never suspect of
espionage. Someone like you. I’m not requesting that you infiltrate
the army. I just need the feel of the land, so to speak. I at least
want to know what the locals are discussing. If we can be hopeful
for any support on their end. Any troop information would be an
asset as well.”

“So you just want me to go around and ask
questions?”

“No, I just need you to listen. To be my
eyes and ears. I have a contact for you. John Baker, a barman, at
the Youngblood Tavern on New York Island. You will not reveal
yourself to him unless you have news. Trust no one else.”

Sarah found herself nodding her assent. It
did not sound terribly dangerous. A fact that made her a bit
disappointed. She was dismissed with a nod and stood to leave.

Her eyes fell on the fireplace and a flush
stole over her face remembering Robert’s stolen kiss. She knew he
would not be pleased, but this was her choice to make.

She returned to the hospital to continue her
work. Her mind was awhirl with anticipation as she bandaged a
twisted ankle. They had been less busy since the weather had warmed
a bit. To be truthful, she missed the chaos. She hated leaving the
hospital, especially as they geared up to march into battle. She
trusted the General that her time was better spent as a spy than a
nurse. A spy. Such a small word to instill such emotion.

An image of another spy hanging from a tree
branch crept into her psyche, and she paused in her wrapping. Maybe
following an army into battle would be safer. Nevertheless, she did
not enter this war to be safe. She signed up to be free.

“You need some help?” Robert asked, standing
next to her.

She looked up at him from her seat on the
floor and shook her head, tying off the bandage with a
flourish.

The man hobbled away gratefully, leaving her
alone with Robert. She looked around the room, surprised to find it
completely empty. He offered her his hand. She hesitated just a
second before taking it, and allowing him to pull her up to her
feet. He was silent and she looked up at him, waiting for him to
speak.

“I heard you were heading to New York.”

Her eyes widened. “Who told you that?”

“It’s not important. What is important, is
you. Don’t go.”

It came off as a command rather than a
request and Sarah dropped his hand and stepped away. “I gave my
word.”

“Are you willing to give your life?”

“If it comes to that. Yes. I have nothing
else to give. No family, no home, if I am called up by the grace of
God, then so be it.”

“You have me. Stay with me.”

Her eyes flashed. “As what? Your whore? I am
sorry, Robert; I could not accept those conditions from any man. If
I don’t see you before I leave, I hope you find what you are
seeking.” She turned to leave but stopped when he cried out to
her.

“Wait! I know I need to make amends for my
past, and I will. My family lives in New York. If you ever need
assistance, go to them. My brother, Tristan, owes me plenty of
favors.”

Sarah nodded her thanks and gave him a quick
hug. She hurried out before he could see her tears. Margaret’s
goodbye was even more difficult. She was the only confidant Sarah
had. She packed her sack with her meager belongings and headed
toward her future.

The wind blew through Tristan’s untamable
locks as he stood on the pier. The salted air was refreshing and he
inhaled deeply. It had been a long, dreary winter and he itched to
be back at sea.

He headed over to his ship, the
Sea
Maiden
, and climbed aboard. Even though it was of great size to
transport goods across the ocean, it seemed minuscule compared to
the British warships on the bay.

He warmly greeted Gabriel, his longtime
friend and captain. “Good Voyage?”

A hearty laugh was his reply. “Your family
arrived safely. I must confess; the return trip was much more
enjoyable.”

“Indeed.”

“How was your winter?”

“Cold and dull.”

“You know there are ways to keep warm at
night.”

“Ha! While the good Colonel snored away next
door? I think not.” Tristan replied with disdain.

“Any news from Robert?”

“Not a peep. I can only hope he is
well.”

***

Sarah reigned in her horse so they both
could have a respite. Ironically, it was one of the horses that
they received in Philadelphia. She had named her Molly. It may seem
quite mad to talk to a horse, but to Sarah it kept her sane. Even
though grass was scarce, it was still in better shape than when
they first met. Washington was a firm believer in taking care of
their livestock.

Sarah chewed on some dried beef and took a
sip of water from her canteen. The weather was still chilly, but
nowhere near the bitterness of winter. She stood and stretched her
limbs before reluctantly climbing back into the butt numbing
saddle. With a click of her tongue, they resumed their journey.

The woods they passed already had buds on
them while they strived for life. She was regretting her decision
to ride alone, but she hated to put anyone else in harm’s way. She
tensed up, moving along the well-worn road, jumping at every twig
snap. She gripped the reigns tightly and tried to calm her beating
heart as a rabbit hopped across her path. Shaking her head at her
foolishness, she ambled on.

Sarah could hear the city before she saw it.
It was not the grandeur of Philadelphia, which she had expected. It
seemed…somewhat darker. Perhaps her feelings were betraying her
perception. Thoughts of retreat fluttered through her mind when she
spotted the roadblock. With no other choice, she squared her
shoulders and moved forward.

“State your business,” the young soldier
demanded, sounding more bored than anything.

“I have come to stay with my aunt,” Sarah
replied, remembering that less is more.

He barely glanced at her, and not finding
her a threat, moved to let her pass.

“Hold up there!” a more seasoned officer
called. Sarah somehow kept her face calm, even though her heart was
pounding again. This man was keener, and his gray eyes seemed to
glimmer in anticipation. She supposed he would have been considered
handsome, to most, with his brown hair and strong features. Of
course, the British Uniform quelled any passionate thoughts on
Sarah’s part.

She tensed as his gaze swept over her body.
Her eyes met his, and narrowed, a sneer crossing over his face. “I
think we need to check this one a bit more thoroughly.”

He was close to her, too close. She wondered
how far she would get if she kicked him in the face and set the
mare into a run. Looking down at her feeble companion, she decided
not far enough.

The soldier grabbed her horse’s harness and
placed his free hand on her ankle, running his hand up her leg and
under her skirt. She instinctively drew away from him, and with a
shriek, toppled off the horse on the other side. Cursing, she
pushed herself to her feet and turned on her offender.  

Her little display had attracted the
attention of several passersby. Confronted by the extra eyes, he
made a big show of helping her dust off her dress. In the process
he leaned over to whisper in her ear. “We will continue this
another time.” Her skin crawled and she slapped his hands away. He
reluctantly took a step back as he nodded to her, handing over the
reins with a wink.

Sarah glared at him and ripped them out of
his grasp. Not wanting to risk another fall, or show off her
bloomers trying to mount, she turned her back on the men and walked
the horse into town.

New York was a bustling place. There was a
constant murmur as everyone’s voices mingled together. She felt so
out of place. Reflexively her hand moved to her pocket where she
kept the small bag of coins. It included several months’ pay,
enough to get her a room and necessities.

Gale laughter floated from a home and she
paused to listen. The sound was foreign to her ears.  It had
been so long since she had heard the sound of laughter. There
hadn’t been much to laugh about. Molly neighed softly, and she
moved on.

A brisk wind swept past, bringing with it
the taste of salt. It reminded her of New Jersey, her home. She
hadn’t thought of home in such a long time, it hurt too much.
Pressing on, she took in her surroundings while she walked. Her
horse neighed again, and she patted its neck soothingly. She wasn’t
sure what to do with the horse, or herself for that matter. She had
seen no barns or stables near the homes on the street. Did they not
own livestock?

She could sell it; however she didn’t want
to part with her new friend. They needed each other. She was tired
from her trip, and her eyes eagerly looked for signs welcoming
borders. The city was huge; she wasn’t sure which way to go, so she
decided to head toward the sea. She remembered visiting the ocean
with her family. She loved to sit in the sand and could watch the
waves forever. With her new destination in mind, she picked up her
pace and headed east. New York was a glorious place, at first
glance with its imposing brick buildings lining the streets.
 As she walked, she took note of the people. Most of the
civilians who were traveling on the street had their heads down, as
if to avoid notice from the soldiers milling about.

She turned a corner and was greeted by the
sight of a man hanging from his neck in a park. She couldn’t help
but stop and pay homage, wondering if he was a fellow rebel. His
clothing was nondescript. Judging by the discoloration of his skin,
he must have been there for days. For what reason? To teach a
lesson? For the British to parade their power in front of everyone?
The wind turned and her nose was met by the too familiar scent of
rotten flesh.

She watched a woman, dressed in finery,
hurry past her, dragging an inquisitive child in her wake.
Disgusted, she stood a little taller and marched on by; she had a
job to do.

Further down the road the scenery changed
again. Rows of destruction met her eyes. She had heard about the
great fire, the one that burned to the sea. However she was not
prepared for the amount of the ruin. Burned out buildings in
various states of destruction were as far as the eye could see.
Some were burned flat to the ground, others collapsed into piles of
bricks and mortar. About a quarter of the city was lost, and no
telling how many lives. The smell of sulfur reminded her of when
the British soldiers attacked her home, and she had little sympathy
for the Tories that stayed. They were insolent people who chose
convenience over freedom, and complacency over honor.