For Love or Country: The MacGregor Legacy | Book 2 (14 page)

“Sir, what about the rest of North Carolina?” Captain Blake asked. “Will we be waging any new campaigns here?”

“I would like to get our imprisoned officers back from Hillsborough,” Cornwallis said. “Based on what you know about the landscape and the Continentals in the area, what are your thoughts? Do you think this is a possible feat?”

“Yes, but we do not know if our officers are still alive or what condition they may be in,” Sergeant McAllister said.

“True,” Major Craig said, nodding and leaning his palms against the table in agreement.

“Sir, I may have some helpful inside information as you make a decision,” Hugh said. He did not want to reveal his close relationship with Tyra, but nor could he allow them to go on thinking there was no point in an attempt to rescue his brother and the other officers. As long as they were alive, it was their responsibility to try and save them. He would do everything in his power to make sure they attempted to rescue them. “In questioning Miss MacGregor, I discovered she sent a letter to her father and brothers through her Indian friends. She asked about my brother and the prisoners in Hillsborough. Her father responded in a return letter saying they were definitely being held and they were still alive.”

“Why did you withhold all this information, Captain?” Major Craig asked, his dark eyes simmered like coal. He took a swallow of his port and continued to stare at Hugh as if assessing him. “How do we know Miss MacGregor did not give away pertinent information to our cause? Do you expect us to believe she was merely asking on behalf of your brother and the officers? There had to be a reason behind what she did.”

“I confiscated the letter she had in her possession and read it for myself. There was no indication she gave him any other information.” Discomfort rocked Hugh’s confidence, but he held his own and continued to stare at Major Craig to let him know he had nothing to hide. “It was not my intention to withhold information, sir. We were interrupted after you saw to the loading of your wagon.” Hugh pressed his fingertips on the table and leaned forward. “Colonel Morgan is my brother after all, and no one wants to see him free more than me, so withholding information would not be in my best interest.”

“Gentleman, we are on the same team here,” Cornwallis said. All eyes turned from Hugh back to his lordship. The tension in the room thickened. Cornwallis turned to Hugh. “Are you sure this was the real letter she received and not a second one to mislead you?”

“Yes, sir. I took it from her as soon as we found her. She had no time to hide anything, and she had naught else,” Hugh said.

“If that is the case, then you may pursue a strategy to free our men,” Cornwallis said. He unfolded his arms, walked to the other side of the table, and pointed to the Virginia map. “I have already written to Sir Henry Clinton that I will be marching to Richmond in a few weeks after my troops have rested and had time to heal from their wounds. Hopefully, our combined forces will be a good match for General Washington. ’Tis time that we change strategies, since we are getting nowhere in the Carolinas.”

“We have heard General Greene has moved into South Carolina,” Captain Blake said. “Should we pursue him?”

“We will not pursue an attack on the offensive, but if you see an opportunity where we may be effective, I expect you to take it,” Cornwallis said. “In the meantime, we will replenish our supplies from Charles Town, while I and my men rest.” He turned to Hugh. “Captain Morgan, please contact your friends in Charles Town and request assistance on my behalf. My men are in need of new boots, coats, and weaponry.”

Chapter 14

14

I
t was a brisk morning with white frost over the crisp brown grass. The sun slanted over the pink sky as Hugh’s senses awakened from slumber. The fresh cold air was enough to freeze a person’s lungs. As soldiers emerged from their tents, they built small fires that glowed in the lingering fog.

The smell of burning wood and coffee drifted in the air, teasing him until his mouth watered. His stomach rumbled with hunger at the thought of a hot plate of food waiting on him at headquarters.

As he walked down the dirt street, his boots crunched the gravel and two soldiers drinking cups of coffee straightened at attention. They must have recognized the rank on his uniform as they lifted their hands and saluted him.

“Captain Morgan!” a voice called from down the street.

Hugh turned. Kirk ran toward him, out of breath. Alarm ripped through Hugh’s gut. His first thought was of Tyra. With fear in his heart, he hurried to meet him halfway. Kirk doubled over, placing his hands on his knees, and drew air to catch his breath. Hugh waited, trying not to let impatience get the best of him. After a moment, Hugh prompted the lad. “So tell me, what happened? Is Tyra all right?”

“Last night Private Truitt tried to attack Tyra.” Kirk gasped between heavy breaths. “She fought him. My sister is a fighter.”

“What do you mean?” Hugh asked, as shocked anger roiled in him.

“He tried to violate my sister.” Kirk took a deep breath, forcing the words out and shaking his head in disbelief. A number of questions burned in his brown eyes. “She prevented him. I never thought a soldier would do somethin’ like that.”

“Lad, war makes men do things they would never ordinarily do. It changes them.” He put a hand on his shoulder. “Now, tell me what else happened—everything.”

“He got what he deserved.” Kirk’s eyes burned with anger. “Tyra kicked ’im in the face. She and Mama strung him up in the barn and left him there all night long. I have never seen Mama so mad.”

Hugh had sensed Truitt didn’t approve of his leniency with the MacGregors, but this news surprised him. He sighed with relief, thankful she was fine. He rubbed his face, trying to decide what should be done.

“He should have known not to mess with my sister,” Kirk said. “Everyone knows she is the War Woman.”

“True. Come with me.” Hugh had to adjust his long strides so Kirk could keep up. “I will decide what to do about Private Truitt. Since he is under my command, ’twill be my responsibility to see to his punishment. Does Tyra have any injuries?”

“He punched her stomach and her legs. This morning she complained of being sore and limped on her ankle.”

Hugh closed his eyes as thoughts flashed through his mind of what Tyra must have endured. The knowledge Truitt had caused her pain angered him until his head seethed with a pounding headache. He guided Kirk down the street and took deep breaths to ease the tension inside.

Even though Hugh was responsible for Truitt, he could not lash out as severe of a punishment as he wanted without Major Craig interfering. Unlike his former commanding officer back in South Carolina, Major Craig cared little about a colonial girl being attacked and nearly raped by a British soldier, especially if she was from a Patriot family. The only way Truitt could get the kind of sentence he deserved, Hugh would have to prove he had tried to desert the army or disobeyed a direct order.

As Hugh led Kirk down the street toward the Burgwin House, he considered his options. First, he would have to reassign Truitt to another location. Second, he would have to find a way to keep Truitt from talking about the incident or lying about his role. One matter he was certain of, Private Truitt would not like his comrades taunting him for being beaten by a woman—specifically the War Woman. This fact alone might be enough to convince him to keep silent in order to save his ego.

“What will you do, Captain?” Kirk asked.

“I am not sure, yet,” Hugh said, patting the lad on the back. The concern in Kirk’s voice was understandable and undeniable. Even though Tyra could defend herself, it was clear he still feared for her safety. Hugh wanted to ease his mind. “This I can promise, Truitt will be removed from your house and someone else will take his place. Your mother and sister will be safe from now on.”

They lapsed into silence as Kirk accepted him at his word. Hugh’s mind drifted through ideas for a solution. Over the past few months, Hugh had come to know the officers under Major Craig’s command, as well as the men under his own command. Sergeant McAllister appeared to be fair, trustworthy, and a gentleman. Hugh had witnessed him admonishing one of his own men for teasing a woman who passed by on the street, saying women should be treated with respect. If anyone could be trusted, would it not be a man like McAllister?

Since both Private Truitt and Sergeant McAllister were under Hugh’s command, he could put Truitt under McAllister. Then he could be certain Tyra would be safe when he left town to complete his mission in Hillsborough. It would give his mind the peace he needed to concentrate on the campaign to rescue his brother.

Once they reached the Burgwin House, Hugh pointed to the front steps. “Wait right here for me. I need to go inside and speak to someone. I shall return and take you home.” Hugh bent toward Kirk’s ear. “Do not worry. I have a plan,” he whispered, before bounding up the steps and greeting the soldier standing guard. Most likely, McAllister had already arrived and would be breaking his fast. All Hugh had to do was be patient and wait for the right moment to approach him.

***

Tyra paused the pedal on her spinning wheel to adjust the thread on the spool. The sound of horses outside distracted her. She rose from where she sat at the top of the stairs on the landing by the bay window. It always afforded the most light during the day. Looking through the pane glass, she could see two horses and two men wearing red coats. Kirk slid off the horse behind one of the men, and the tension inside her eased as she recognized Hugh.

She lifted her skirt and rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen where her mother kneaded dough. “Kirk brought Hugh back, and another redcoat is with them.”

“I hope it is not Major Craig,” Mama said, dusting her hands on her apron. She untied the strings from around her waist and lifted the apron over her head, folding it nice and neat on the table. “I wonder if Kirk will take them to the barn or here.”

“I am sure Kirk will take them straight to the barn,” Tyra smiled remembering her brother’s reaction to how they decided to handle Private Truitt. “He will want them to see what we have done.”

“I dare say, the man deserves what he got.” Mama stomped out of the room and into the hallway, leaving Tyra to follow. She had always thought her mother a soft, gentle woman who could never harm a soul even to defend herself, but these last few months she had seen more grit and determination in her mother than she ever thought possible. All these years, Tyra assumed she had gotten her iron will from her father, but now she realized it was a combination from both. Her mother had hidden her strong backbone beneath a humbleness Tyra had misjudged as weakness. She was glad the Lord had shown her the truth and repaired their difficult relationship.

The horses were tied to the fence posts outlining the barnyard. The men were nowhere to be seen as Tyra and her mother made their way across the half-frozen stiff grass. Mama opened the gate to the fence, and it creaked. Tyra set the latch. They approached the wide, arched doorway and stepped inside to the sound of men’s voices carrying in laughter.

Hugh’s shoulders shook with mirth as he ended up coughing. The other soldier she recognized as Sergeant McAllister. He chuckled with a wide grin and shook his head as he strolled toward Private Truitt, who still hung where she and her mother had left him. His hands were tied above his head on a thick rope hanging from the rafters. The toes of his feet barely touched a wobbly old wooden table. Private Truitt positioned his legs shoulder width apart, balancing himself on the table as if participating in a little dance.

“After what he tried to do to my daughter, we would have stripped his clothing to further humiliate him as he intended to do to her, but we feared the poor man would die from frostbite,” Mama said. She crossed her arms and twisted her lips in an angry frown. “I know about men like him. I met dozens of them when I was not much older than my lass.”

“Mrs. MacGregor,” Hugh said, clearing his throat and standing to his full height. “I realize you may have extreme anger at men after Tyra’s last attack in the barn and what Private Truitt tried to do to her, but not all men take advantage of innocent women.”

“I know, Captain.” Mama walked toward Private Truitt and rocked the corner of the table back and forth. The man gasped, trying to regain his footing. He closed his eyes and gulped in fear. “Ye forget I have a husband and three sons who feel as ye do. However, years ago when we first arrived to the colonies, I was sold as an indentured servant and into slavery at a bordello in Charles Town, but Malcolm MacGregor saved me.”

Hugh’s gray eyes widened and his mouth opened with no sound. Sergeant McAllister had a similar expression as his gaze shifted to Hugh and then to Tyra. Both men were rendered speechless, unsure of the appropriate response. If the circumstances had been different, Tyra might have found their reaction a bit comical. Instead, she touched her mother’s arm in a show of support and comfort.

“Captain, we would like to know what you shall do with him?” Tyra asked. “Will you let him go free?”

“What would you like us to do with him?” Hugh asked, meeting her gaze. “Ordinarily, I would order him whipped, but by the looks of his face, he has already taken quite a beating.”

“His face met the bottom of my boot.” Tyra pulled her mother back from Private Truitt before she was tempted to do something else. “But I assure you, ’twas only at the provocation of surviving his brutal attack. Otherwise, I would have never considered such desperation. As for what to do with him, I wish to never see him again.”

“Indeed, I promise to arrange it for you,” Hugh said, glancing up at Private Truitt with a menacing frown. He pressed a finger on his dark goatee beard pondering another thought. “In fact, I have decided to put Private Truitt under Sergeant McAllister’s command, which is why he accompanied me here.”

“And I will make sure he is so busy with tasks and responsibilities he will never have a spare moment to get out of line again.” Sergeant McAllister strolled over to where Private Truitt hung. “Lad, you shall behave yourself like a true soldier of His Majesty’s Royal Army or the consequences will be much worse than this, I assure you.”

“Please, let me down. The rope is cutting into my wrists, and my arms and shoulders are aching. My joints feel as if they are being disconnected,” Private Truitt said through a swollen lip. His bruised jaw looked even darker under the shadow of a few whiskers that had grown overnight. Dried blood from his nose had crusted on his mustache, around his mouth, and dripped onto his shirt.

“I would imagine you prefer us to keep quiet about what happened?” Hugh lifted a dark eyebrow. “Our comrades might think you are a weak man at being bested by a woman. I can hear their teasing jabs now.” He glanced over at Sergeant McAllister. “Although it might be a fitting punishment in itself.”

“No!” Private Truitt’s toes wobbled on the table until he groaned in pain. “’Twill not be necessary. Have I not suffered enough humiliation?”

“Not in my opinion.” Hugh crossed his arms and circled around him. “But I shall give you a bit of mercy, if you apologize to Miss MacGregor.”

“What? She is naught more than a colonial trollop.” Private Truitt gasped as Hugh punched him in the back of his knee. He swung forward, dangling until he could touch his toes upon the tabletop again.

“Now!” Hugh raised his voice.

“I shall not.” Truitt gritted his teeth. “We British should never degrade ourselves like that.”

“Then I am afraid you shall remain where you are.” Hugh turned and walked away, motioning for the rest of them to follow.

“Wait!” Private Truitt called. “Do not leave me like this.”

“When you apologize to Miss MacGregor, I want you to look her in the eyes and do it proper.”

Cold, dark eyes shifted to Tyra, and her skin crawled as if an army of ants were all over her. The disdain in his expression filled her with discomfort, and she knew he would be a lifelong enemy and a danger as long as he remained in these parts. He took a ragged breath. “Miss MacGregor, I am sorry for what I did.”

Knowing his insincerity, she gripped her hands in front of her to keep them from trembling with anger. She would be a better person than he. She took a deep breath. “You are forgiven.”

“Cut him down and get him out of here,” Hugh ordered. “I dislike the sight of him.” He offered Tyra and her mother an arm each. With relief, she gripped him, finally feeling safe—for the moment. She leaned her head on his shoulder, reveling in the musky scent she had come to associate with him. Closing her eyes, Tyra allowed herself to draw strength from Hugh.

***

The tents were packed, fires put out, and soldiers were lining up in the street. Hugh stood at attention beside Major Craig and Captain Blake. As Lord Cornwallis mounted his white stallion and other officers waited upon their mounts behind him, the drummers began to beat a tune. Cornwallis lifted his hand and saluted them as he rode his horse down the road. His officers followed and the rest of the army was on the move, marching out of town to begin their journey to Richmond, Virginia.

As they made their exit, Hugh wrestled with mixed feelings. The town had suffered from trying to feed and clothe so many men and caring for the wounded. British soldiers had occupied the streets, every public building, even the churches. In spite of the inconveniences, Hugh preferred the leadership of Cornwallis over Major Craig. Cornwallis didn’t try to create controversy among his officers, and he didn’t show favoritism. Unlike Major Craig, Hugh never witnessed Cornwallis trying to provoke his subordinates. Instead, he asked questions, weighed the consequences and facts before he made decisions. While he was here, Cornwallis had promoted three men and given others chances to prove themselves.