Authors: Traitorous Hearts
God, would it never end? Once again, he found himself unable to
tell her the entire truth. "Contingency plans if the colonials attack
Boston. Defense and escape plans."
She thrust her hand out. "Give them to me."
He reached to put the packet in her hand, then paused, the papers
hovering a bare inch above her palm. Once he gave it to her, there'd be no
going back. He'd have embroiled her in danger, in these deadly games of war she
had no place in.
But there was the job. He'd spent years putting the job first,
above everything and everyone. He could do it one more time.
The paper, pristine and unwrinkled, nearly gleamed in the bright
sun. He wondered irrelevantly why it still looked so untouched after all the
hiding and carrying around it had been subjected to in the last few weeks.
"You won't tell anyone?" he asked one more time.
"I'll follow instructions, sir." He dropped the packet
into her hand. She tucked it into her pocket. Her voice became rich with
intensity, heavy with repulsion. "But don't ever,
ever
ask another
thing of me."
She turned and walked away, her strides sure and swift. At the
edge of the clearing, underneath a huge, twisted oak, she paused to look back
at him. Her skin was pale, her eyes huge and dark.
"It's not one of us."
Bennie was not particularly
impressed with the army camp.
It was smelly, crowded, dirty, and it seemed the men spent a great deal of time
digging what to her appeared to be utterly useless holes.
Well, so much for military discipline, she thought as she strode
around yet another group of men playing cards. When she'd reached the first
line of encampments, the occasional soldier had tried to stop her, assuming
that a female could be entering camp for only one reason. One glare took care
of most of them, although she had to admit that the fact that it was delivered
from a vantage point half a head taller than their own had to help. The rest
were dispensed with by the simple expedient of mentioning who she was there to
visit. Her brothers, it seemed, had been cutting rather a wide swath through
the place.
To her surprise, sentries stopped her only briefly. As soon as
they ascertained that she was indeed there to visit her brothers, they'd simply
bid her a good day and pointed her in the direction of her brothers' regiment.
She'd expected the camp to be better patrolled. But then, there was little
damage a lone woman could do to fifteen thousand soldiers.
She slipped her hand in her pocket to check the safety of the
packet she carried. She'd repeatedly done so since she'd gotten it; it seemed
somehow dangerous to simply carry it around in her pocket as she would a
handkerchief or a ball of thread, but she hadn't been able to think of any
better place to hide it. If she'd been taken and her captors had been
determined to find it, it wouldn't have mattered where she'd hidden it.
Her father had seemed somewhat perplexed when she'd announced she
was going to Cambridge to visit her brothers. She'd managed to convince him
that she'd been utterly dissatisfied with the assurances they'd given on their
brief visits home. She simply had to see for herself that they were taking
proper care of themselves.
Her mother, oddly enough, had seemed to think it was a fairly good
idea. Bennie suspected her mother cherished a secret hope that she would be
swept off her feet by a handsome young officer.
Well, she'd tried that once, and it wasn't an experience she
planned to repeat anytime soon. She wasn't sure she'd survive it again.
Bennie realized she was clutching the packet in her pocket, nearly
crumpling the papers. She forced her fingers to uncurl; the information must
remain undamaged. That was the only thing that mattered now.
So she'd been sent off with a bag stuffed with new shirts,
underclothes, and stockings that her mother and her sisters-in-law had been
making for the Jones men. How convenient, they'd all thought, that Bennie'd
volunteered to take the things to them. Who knew when any of the men would get
a chance to come back to New Wexford again?
Her brothers turned out to be surprisingly easy to locate. All of
them, it seemed, were camped within Cambridge itself, near the headquarters,
not in one of the outlying areas.
She'd already found Henry. He'd been delighted to see her—after
he'd gotten over the fact that she'd been wandering alone through thousands of
men. She'd finally gotten him to admit that no man was likely to bother her;
first, because she could take care of herself, and second, because he was her
brother. He'd seemed somewhat gratified by the thought that he was a deterrent.
He been equally happy with the clothes that her mother had made.
Although Bennie'd never quite managed the delicacy necessary for small, tight
needlework, Mary was an expert seamstress, and the clothes she made her men
always fit better than anything from the finest tailor shop. Henry's clothes
had been hard-used, he admitted, and the camp laundress didn't exactly clean
and mend up to the standards he was used to.
Then he'd finagled two of the currant tarts she'd brought along
for herself, claiming they certainly didn't know how to properly feed a Jones
around here. He'd been so enthusiastic about showing her the camp, he'd pointed
out General Washington's offices before she'd even had to ask. Then he promised
he'd take care of Puffy for her while she visited with the others, gave her one
final hug, and took off, leading her horse.
Bennie smiled fondly, shaking her head. The army had certainly not
dimmed Henry's enthusiasm.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to face the plain, whitewashed
frame building that served as Washington's quarters. To her surprise, it was
only lightly guarded. Then again, one had to go through the entire encampment
to get to it.
All at once her heart was pounding painfully in her chest. She was
going to meet the new commander of the entire Continental army. By all accounts,
Washington was an exceptional man, tall, handsome, and brilliant. He was also
said to be quite stern, and with his new position, he was undeniably powerful.
She was suddenly afraid that they wouldn't let her in to see him
after all. Why should they?
Because Jonathan had said they would. Whatever else he was—and
wasn't—she was certain he was absolutely perfect at his job. And much as she
hated the things he'd become in order to do it, she wanted him to succeed. The
only safety her family had lay in the war's ending as quickly as possible.
Once more, for reassurance, she groped for the packet in her
pocket. The sharp, clean folded edges and the thin smoothness of the ribbon
gave her courage, and she started for the headquarters.
"Bennie!"
"Adam!" She laughed as he swept her up and twirled her
around in the air. When she'd been very small and Adam had been a sturdy youth
too big for his age, he'd often thrown her into the air until she'd been
helpless with laughter. Even now, she knew he was the one who felt most
responsible for her.
He put her down. "At first, I wasn't sure if that was you I
saw walking across camp. But then I realized, no other woman covers ground the
way my sister does."
She frowned at him. "Watch it, Adam, or I won't give you any
of the things I brought you."
"What are you doing here?" His happiness at seeing her
faded quickly, and concern darkened his hazel eyes. "It's not...
everything's all right with Hannah, isn't it?"
"Yes, of course," she hurried to reassure him.
"She's still losing her breakfast, but that's nothing new."
"Lord." He dragged a hand through his dark blond curls.
"If I could do it for her, I would, you know?"
She snorted in disbelief. "Sure you would."
"I would." The corner of his mouth twitched, and then a
wide grin spread over his face. "All right, maybe I wouldn't. I wish I was
there with her, though."
"Mother's taking good care of her."
"I'm sure she is."
"Besides, when has a Jones ever married a woman who wasn't
strong enough to stand up to him? She'll be fine."
"I suppose." He gave a deep sigh. "What brings you
here, then?"
"I come bearing gifts." She plopped her satchel down on
the ground and opened it up. She plowed through the assortment of items until
she found the ones intended for him. "Here. Two new shirts and three new
pairs of socks. Hannah said you go through socks in no time at all."
"It's my toe," he protested.
"Uh-huh."
"It is. It sticks up, sorta, and goes through the sock,
and—" He stopped when he saw her laughing at him. "All right. I give
up." He took the bundle she handed him. "My thanks."
"You're welcome."
"You have quite a load there, Bennie. Did you bring things
for everyone?"
"Yes. I've already seen Henry."
"Oh, no."
"Yes. He's enjoying himself thoroughly, isn't he?"
"Yes. But then, he hasn't seen much action yet, either. We
kept him well away from the front lines at Bunker Hill."
Shading her eyes from the sun, she squinted up at him. "How
about you?"
A brief shadow of pain darkened his eyes, but he shrugged.
"Not now, Ben."
"All right."
"When you get home, will you... tell..." He stopped, a
red flush creeping up his neck. "Tell her that I love her," he said
in a rush.
"I will," she said softly.
He swallowed. "Thanks."
"Now, can you tell me where I can find the rest of the crew?
I'd like to lighten this satchel a bit more."
He glanced around quickly. "David, I think, is off digging
barricades today. Everyone else is still in my company, so they should be
around somewhere."
"What is all this digging for anyway? This place looks like
its been overtaken by giant gophers."
Adam laughed, a rich, rolling sound that boomed throughout the
camp. "Washington believes it's better that they have something to do, and
I have to agree with him. We were having far too many men injured by their
fellow soldiers. When the men have nothing better to do, they fight."
"Sounds familiar," she said, shaking her head.
"Doesn't it, though? The general hasn't had an easy time of
it, trying to shape a regular army. We started out with forty or so odd-size
regiments, and he wanted us in twenty-eight uniform ones. Many men didn't take
well to being reassigned."
Bennie appraised the confusion and disorder that surrounded her.
This was an improvement? "Tell me honestly, Adam. Do we have any
chance?"
"I have to believe that we do." He crossed his massive
arms over his chest. "We have good command now. And we have one huge
advantage: we are fighting for our homes. They are simply following
orders."
"And we have the Jones family, right?"
"Right. The one you should really ask, though, is Brendan.
Now that he's been assigned to Washington's staff—"
"Brendan's been reassigned?" she broke in.
"Yes. Someone decided he was too brilliant to waste slogging
through the mud."
"Good for them. I wonder what Da will think of it?"
Adam frowned. "He'll think that the only real soldier is one
that is belly-deep in the muck."
She sighed. "You're probably right."
"You should give it up. After all this time, I doubt there's
anything you—or anyone else—can do to change the way it is between them."
She crossed her arms in unconscious imitation of his belligerent
stance. "I never give up."
Sunlight glinted off his dark blond curls as he threw back his
head and laughed.
Bennie slanted a curious glance at the headquarters building. So
Brendan worked for Washington now, did he? How useful. If worse came to worst,
and she found it impossible to get in, she could go to Brendan. He was sure to
be able to find a way to get her an audience with the general.
And if she had to, she'd tell Brendan why. She considered getting
the information in Washington's hands her primary goal; following Jonathan's
instructions was a secondary consideration.
After all, she'd already broken one promise to Jonathan.
"Ben? Are you with me, Ben?"
"Huh? Oh Adam, I'm sorry. I was thinking about something."
"Now why would you want to do that?"
She swatted him playfully. "It was wonderful to see you,
too."
His expression grew serious. "You will keep an eye on my
family for me, won't you?"
"You know I will."
He reached for her hand and squeezed it, nearly crushing her bones
in the process. "Thanks."
"It really
was
wonderful to see you, Adam. I think
I'll go see if I can find Brendan."
"I'm not sure he's on duty right now. You might want to ask
around for his quarters."
"I'll find him."