Authors: Lori Copeland
“Bring her in,” Ashley said without any hesitation this
time.
There was an ugly red burn running down the child’s arm. The
wound was already starting to blister.
Ashley raced to her bag and seized the sample of first aid
spray she’d gotten in the mail.
“This will make it feel better, darling,” she crooned to the
frightened little girl. “Here. Hold tight to my hand.” Ashley quickly sprayed
the burned area. The child screamed, scrambling toward her mother with fright.
When the cool spray had penetrated the scalded skin, the child ceased her
wailing, staring at her arm.
“How does that feel?” Ashley asked.
“Not hurt...no more,” the child murmured.
The mother’s eyes were wide with wonder. “Why, ’tis another
miracle!”
“No, it’s just first aid spray—”
“No, no! Whatever you did, it’s a miracle!” She gathered her
daughter close, openly sobbing now. “Thank you, thank you!”
After giving Jeanine a cherry Life Saver, Ashley hurried the
two to the door, but before she could bid them goodbye, another couple came up
the path.
Oh, Lord, Ashley breathed. What had she done?
By the time she’d brewed more tea—something she was learning
to do well by now—and dispensed more aspirin for the aches and pains of
arthritis and dog bite—it was a good thing she always carried a large
bottle—there were three more people waiting to see the “miracle worker.”
“Aaron, where are you?” Ashley muttered as she refreshed old
Mr. Feinstein, who had an earache, with a cup of tea. The situation was clearly
getting out of hand.
When Ashley heard the front door open again, she raced
through the house to ward off the new corner. By now the drawing room was
chock-full of people, and at least ten more patients were sitting on the porch,
waiting for Ashley to see them and dispense one of her miraculous “life
savers.”
Skidding around the corner, she came face to face with
Aaron, who was peering into the drawing room with disbelief.
“Oh, hi there,” she said lamely.
White-faced, he turned to look at her. "What is going
on?”
Sighing, she leaned against the doorframe wearily. There was
no way on earth she was going to talk her way out of this one.
Chapter
Ten
Stunned, Aaron walked to the window to peer out at the mass
of humanity congregated on his front lawn. There were people there that he
hadn’t seen in years! Voices rang out as the old, the young, the sick, the
lame, and the destitute chanted Ashley’s name.
Mistress Wheeler, Mistress Wheeler, Mistress Wheeler! Aaron
turned back to stare at her dumbfounded. Shrugging, she grinned. “It’s been
like this all day; they think I’m some sort of a miracle worker.”
“Miracle worker!”
“Yeah, it’s the strangest thing—”
“What have you been giving them?”
“Just over-the-counter medicine that I carry with me most of
the time,” she said in her own defense. “Midol, aspirin, cough syrup...
Aaron walked to the door and flung it open. “Please, return
to your homes!” he pleaded with the frenzied crowd. “There is no miracle worker
here!”
Ashley began shooing people out of the drawing room, trying
to quell their loud protests.
“But me foot hurts!” one called.
“And I got this pain in me side!” another argued. Aaron was
forced aside as the disgruntled patients made their way down the steps and
immediately formed a long line in front of the house. It was clear that they
weren’t giving up.
“Please, there’s been a mistake. You must all return to your
homes,” Aaron beseeched. “Mistress Wheeler is not a doctor!”
“No, she’s a miracle worker!” someone in the crowd called.
“No, you must go home!”
Screams of protests went up as the crowd surged forward,
hands straining to touch the miracle worker.
After pushing Ashley back, Aaron slammed the door. He threw
the heavy bolt, strode to the windows, and jerked the curtains closed.
“You see—” Ashley began, hoping to explain the peculiar
circumstance he had found there. But his angry words stopped her.
“No, I don’t see!” he roared. “What in the hell have you
done? Hell doesn’t bother me, but it might some of your admirers.”
"Well, if you’d just calm down, I could explain. There
were these two or three people who came looking for you, and you weren’t here,
so since one of them had a headache, and one had...pain that plagues women
only, and another had a toothache, I just gave them some aspirin.”
“What is this aspirin?”
“It’s medicine. Oh, aspirin didn’t come into existence until
the late 1800s.” She groaned. It was impossible to explain all that had
happened in the medical field in the past two hundred years!
A knock sounded at the door, and Aaron swore under his
breath. “’Tis a fine kettle of snakes you have us in now,” he accused. “I
strive to be inconspicuous, and what do you do? Entice half of Boston!”
The knock came at the door again, more insistent this time.
Aaron slid the bolt back and cracked the door open a slit. He was relieved to
find Paul Revere standing on the porch viewing the milling crowd with
astonishment.
After pulling Paul inside, Aaron quickly closed the door
behind him.
“Pray tell, Kenneman. Has there been a death in the family?”
Paul asked.
“No, only a slight misunderstanding. ‘Tis nothing to be
alarmed about.”
“Then why are all those people on your lawn?” Shooting
Ashley a disenchanted look, Aaron said curtly, “Mistress Wheeler has been
‘healing’ the afflicted.”
“Healing the afflicted? I say, isn’t that a bit odd?”
Realizing that Paul wouldn’t be there at such a late hour unless something
important was happening, Aaron set aside the immediate crisis. “Have you news?”
Revere walked to the window and pulled the curtain aside to
view the thinning crowd. “Trouble grows near.”
Aaron scowled. “Is it imminent?”
Revere nodded, his gaze going back to Ashley.
“It’s come to this,” Aaron breathed softly. “Gage is a
crazed man.”
“Much my same thoughts,” Revere admitted.
“We must find a way to stop him!”
“You can’t.”
The two men turned, staring at Ashley.
“You can’t,” she repeated calmly. “The British are already
on their way.”
“Aaron, why is she still with you?” Paul asked. “I assumed
that by now you would have carried out your mission.”
Aaron turned, refusing to meet Paul's gaze. “I think we
should listen to her, Paul.”
Paul shook his head. “The woman knows not of what she
speaks,” he scoffed. “How could she have acquired such information? Has she not
been with you all day?” Moving to stand by the fire, Aaron thought about what
Ashley had told him the night before. Was she from a time two hundred and
seventeen years in the future? “Mayhap she speaks the truth, Paul.”
“The truth! Kenneman, think. How could she have gained such
information? Our patrols only learned of events a few hours ago!”
Ashley listened to the conversation, sympathizing with their
anguish. General Gage, who had been kept informed of the colonists’ efforts by
his spies, had found himself in a difficult position in mid April 1775. England
was urging him to take control of the colony by force, and, while he was
hesitant, it seemed he was left with little choice. Having made the decision,
he had sent an advance patrol tonight to locate John Hancock and Samuel Adams.
With these two powerful men out of the way, he assumed his chances of
overpowering the colonists would be greatly improved.
But Hancock and Adams, having attended meetings at the
Provincial Congress, were entrenched in Lexington, six miles from Concord. Gage
had thought trouble could be avoided by sending men in the dark of night, but
Revere’s appearance here tonight proved that the colonists had a spy system
equal to Gage’s own.
After turning from the window, Aaron started to pace.
“I don’t know, Paul. But the things she speaks of, though
curious, have a ring of truth to them.”
“What could she know that we don’t?”
“She claims to know the future.”
“‘Tis sheer folly! No one can know the future.”
“I do.”
The men turned to look at Ashley again.
“Please, listen to me.” Ashley forced Paul to meet her eyes.
“Joseph Warren summoned you to his house earlier tonight with the intention of
sending you to Lexington to warn Hancock and Adams that Gage is about to send
an advance force of seven hundred and fifty men to seize and destroy the stores
at Concord,” she said quietly. “But when you reached Warren’s house, Warren had
already sent another messenger earlier. Willie Dawes is at this moment on his
way to warn Hancock and Adams of the impending assault.”
Paul glanced at Aaron, speechless.
“Is this true?” Aaron asked.
“Yes, but, pray tell...how?”
“Time grows short. We must listen to her,” Aaron returned
gravely.
The men’s eyes now focused on Ashley. She could see by the
somber expressions on their faces that they were willing to try to make sense
of what she said.
“According to your history books, what do we do now?” Aaron
felt the question was absurd, yet if she spoke the truth, her knowledge could
give the colonists an edge they would not otherwise have.
“Paul must ride through the towns and villages warning the
citizens to arm themselves,” she said. “He will do this as he rides to
Lexington to make sure that Hancock and Adams have been properly notified.”
“And me?”
“I don’t know about you,” she admitted. “For the life of me,
I can’t remember anything about you—although the history books don’t name all
of Revere’s friends and associates.”
She winced as she saw the crestfallen look on his face.
“Nothing about me?”
She shook her head. “Nothing...that I can remember.”
“Oh.”
Ashley could see that she had severely wounded his male ego.
“If she speaks the truth, I should be on my way,” Revere
said. “Gage’s troops grow near?”
Ashley nodded. “But don’t worry: you’ll complete the mission
in time.”
Paul glanced at Aaron solemnly. “I hope she knows what she’s
talking about.”
“The hour grows late,” Aaron returned. “We have little
choice but to believe her.”
“How will the British attack? By land or by water?” Paul
asked. “If we must divide our forces...”
Aaron glanced at Ashley.
“Water, but I can’t tell you anymore,” she told Paul, “or
history will be altered.”
“By water?” Paul asked again.
She nodded.
“Then we must have a messenger,” he decided. “Someone to
watch the movements of the troops.”
“Activity on the road this late at night will cause
suspicion.” Aaron began to pace again.
“Yes.” Paul fell into step with him. “And if we ring the
church bells, the British will know something is amiss.”
The men glanced at Ashley, but she only shrugged. “I’d
really like to help, but I’m afraid you have to figure it out on your own.”
Aaron’s brow lifted imperiously. “You are not willing to
help us?”
“I saw Back to the Future. If I say anything, then...”
Ignoring her prattle, he added wearily, “History will be
changed.” The two men cupped their chins.
Aaron suddenly paused, turning to her again. “But will you
inform us if we make the wrong decision?”
“I think I could do that.” She felt she was pretty safe
there. They had made the right decisions. History affirmed that.
Satisfied she would do what she could, Aaron resumed pacing.
“Paul, you’ll get a boat and row across the Charles to where the Somerset
lays,” he directed.
“I know we have spoken of this before, Aaron, but I was in
Lexington last Sunday, at the Reverend Mr. Clark’s house? On my return I passed
through Charlestown, where I had opportunity to speak with Colonel Conant and
others. They were apprehensive that should this very event occur, it would be
difficult for a messenger to cross the Charles River. They suggested that we
devise a signal in case of trouble.”
“Of course, a signal.” Aaron’s pace quickened. “If the
British come by water—which Ashley says they will—”
“I didn’t mean to let that slip,” Ashley defended quickly.
“But you did. We will show three lanterns in the North
Church steeple—”
Ashley cleared her throat.
“If they come by land, then we’ll show two lanterns.”
Ashley cleared her throat again, a little louder this time.
Aaron’s footsteps slowed as he turned to look at her.
She shook her head.
“That’s wrong?”
She nodded.
“What is it?”
She shook her head again.
“You can’t say?”
She nodded.
“Tarnation!” He resumed his pacing, then whirled to face her
again. “Am I close?”
She nodded.
"Three lanterns by land, two by sea?”
She shook her head.
“One by land, three by sea?”
She shook her head, smiling lamely.
“One by sea, two by land!”
She shook her head harder.
“Three by sea, two by land?” Paul supplied, but again she
shook her head.
“Two by water, one by land!” the men parroted in exasperated
unison.
She grinned, nodding enthusiastically.
“What difference does it make?” Aaron exploded.
“A lot of difference!” Ashley defended. “History will be
changed.”
“We can delay no longer,” Paul warned. He moved to leave,
and Aaron followed him.
Ashley was suddenly seized with panic. What if Aaron never
came back? What if he was killed as he tried to assist Paul? She had struggled
all day to remember every shred of history she’d ever read about Paul Revere’s
famous ride. Try as she might, she couldn’t recall ever reading a single thing
about Dr. Aaron Kenneman.
Fear coded itself around her heart as she tried to convince
herself that history books didn’t record everything. But history books did
record that two-hundred-forty-seven Englishmen, and eighty-eight colonists lost
their lives in the first shots fired in the Revolutionary War.
Tears stung her eyes as she watched Aaron preparing to
leave. Oh, please, she prayed. Don’t let him be one of the eighty-eight who
died.
“I’m sorry, Ashley.” Aaron’s voice broke into her troubled
thoughts. “You will have to come with us.”
“Where?” Ashley said, automatically reaching for her bag.
“I can’t leave you here,” Aaron said quietly. “You will be
at risk when news of the attack spreads.”
Ashley numbly slipped her arms into the coat that he was
holding for her. Now she was going to become a participant in the Revolutionary
War?
Aaron extinguished the lantern, and the three slipped out
the front door a few minutes later. Bright moonlight lit the now empty pathway
as they mounted the horses.
“I will go to North Church and see that the lanterns are
lit. You can go by the house and let Rachel know where you’re going,” Aaron
called.
Picking up the reins of his horse, Paul sighed. “I won’t be
long. I want to change my boots, and Joshua seems feverish tonight. Rachel’s
concerned that he is developing a raw throat again.”
“Would you like for me to examine him?”
“I don’t think it’s necessary. You know how Rachel frets.
Mayhap tomorrow, if the boy isn’t feeling better by morning.”
Tinning the horse, Paul’s gaze met Aaron’s in the moonlight.
“Mistress Wheeler could keep Rachel company while we’re gone.”
“I want her in my protection,” Aaron returned gravely.
Ashley tightened her hold on his waist gratefully. “Thank you,”
she whispered.
If anything was going to happen to him, she wanted to be
there. She knew CPR and other life-saving procedures from a first aid course
she’d taken a few months earlier. In an emergency, she might be able to save
his life.
Turning the horse, Paul muttered, “’Twould be easier if we
knew Gage’s plans.”
“I told you, he’s after the supply depot in Concord,” Ashley
blurted without thinking again.
“The fool,” Paul muttered.
“And he wants Adams and Hancock,” she added, though she felt
guilty for helping them. But she couldn’t stand by and let Aaron be hurt.