Chapter 13
Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the LORD thy God, he it is that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.
“I cannot wait to see Dawn’s face when she lays eyes on these.
” Jacob lifted the stalks of flowers with bright red blooms all along their tops and grinned at Edmund.
Guilt squeezed like a vice around his heart, though.
Would any number of eye-catching flowers show his wife that he truly loved her, stump and all, if he did not consummate their marriage?
Edmund shook his head but smiled. “You are the only man I have ever seen to go out hunting and bring back flowers along with his deer.”
Jacob chuckled. “The meat is a blessing, indeed, but I thought of Dawn as soon as I saw these beauties. Nothing she loves more than nature.” And now, after gaining her freedom, his poor wife was relegated to the bounds of the fort except for when the women fetched water from the spring.
All because she was trying to do what was best for Mary.
Meanwhile, breaking her own heart in the process.
Jacob frowned. Hopefully, these brilliant blooms would work to brighten both her spirits and their dim, dull cabin, despite how he withheld the one thing that would make their union true in every sense of the word.
But how could he press her for that when Mary had been taken from her?
When her freedom had been taken from her?
“Jacob?”
He turned toward Edmund and the question in his voice. “Yes?”
Edmund moved his horse closer as they plodded along toward the rear of the fort and nodded into the trees.
Jacob’s brow knit together as he followed his gaze.
But then he saw it. The edge of a horse’s nose.
The flick of a black tail. Not one rider, but many, attempting to conceal themselves in the trees.
He met Edmund’s gaze and nodded to let the older gentleman know that he had seen the same danger as he.
Silently, they rode on. If their visitors had not revealed themselves yet, perhaps it was best to pretend that they had gone unseen. Still, apprehension crawled across Jacob’s shoulder blades and prickled up the back of his neck as they reached the corner of the fort and rode down along its side.
Even though he kept his face pointed ahead, Jacob continuously swept his gaze over the forest. He sucked in a breath when he noticed the form of a barefoot, deeply tanned man perched in the top of a tree, only his lower half visible from behind the leaves.
He did not appear to hold any weapon at the ready, though, for one hand rested on the branch beside his foot, and the other was on the tree trunk beside his hip.
Still, it seemed both British and Indian forces laid in wait.
Though the war was supposed to be over, there were British militia that joined with Indian tribes in the area in an attempt to gain control over the Ohio River Valley.
Jacob tempered his breathing and consciously loosened his grip on the reins. Samson would easily pick up on his apprehension and begin prancing if he were not careful.
As it was, the horse’s hooves seemed to be slogging through molasses as the front of the fort drew closer at a disturbingly sluggish rate.
Finally, they reached and rounded the corner. Jacob and Edmund exchanged another glance. Were the inhabitants of the fort aware of the danger? Would they open the gates for them?
Almost as soon as the question had come into his mind, the wide gates cracked open.
It did not ease the tension in his shoulders, for as long as the gates were open, the entire fort was at risk.
Was this what their visitors were waiting for?
He opened his mouth to ask Edmund if they should call ahead and have them close the gates.
Instead, Edmund’s black horse passed his at an extended trot.
Jacob urged Samson to do the same, and the horse willingly complied, picking up the bumpy gait to quickly take them inside the opened gates.
“Close the gates! Close the gates!” Edmund yelled the instruction as he spun his horse in a circle once they had entered.
Samson loped the final few paces as the gates were quickly closed behind them.
Jacob and Edmund slid from their mounts and glanced around, but there were no arrows, battle cries, or bullets.
With his deer still laid over his saddle, Edmund led his horse over to the men who were working the gates. “We are surrounded. Do not let anyone in if you do not know who they are.”
“Surrounded?” The man’s eyes widened, but Edmund did not wait around to supply additional information.
He headed straight for the corner turret where the station master, Elijah Craig, lived.
The door opened before he arrived. A young boy came out to take the horses from them so they could enter immediately. Elijah must have heard the raucous.
Jacob glanced around, then placed his bouquet of flowers on the ground beside the door. He followed Edmund into the dim cabin.
As Elijah entered the room, Edmund pulled himself tall and gripped his hands behind his back, all business. “We must prepare for imminent attack. The fort is surrounded.”
“Indians?” Elijah stopped in his tracks.
Jacob gave a nod from where he stood next to Edmund.
“How many?”
Edmund exchanged a look with Jacob. “Difficult to tell.”
“And they let you pass?” Elijah leaned forward and put his hands on the table before him. “What are they waiting for?”
Jacob shook his head. “I know not. The cover of night, perhaps?”
Elijah’s frown deepened. “Alert everyone. I will send for reinforcements.”
Jacob and Edmund both dipped their chins to signal their understanding before they turned from the table. “Dawn should keep Mary tonight,” Edmund advised as they stepped back out into the afternoon sun.
“I agree.” Jacob dipped his chin.
Without another word, Edmund strode off to warn families. It was strange, though—in the safety of the fort with the August sun spilling sunlight over everything, it appeared as though there were no threat at all. If only that were true.
With Samson and the deer taken care of, Jacob retrieved his flowers for Dawn and headed toward their cabin. He needed to speak with her first and foremost.
When he arrived, the smell of venison cooking over the fire drifted out the open door, as well as Mary’s soft giggle mixed with that of Dawn’s.
His chest constricted thinking of them in danger.
No matter the obstacles that he and Dawn still needed to tackle, he loved her and Mary both dearly.
If only the three of them could be a true family.
Jacob pushed a smile onto his face as he stepped up onto the porch and into the room. Dawn glanced up from where she tended to the meat in a pan over the fire. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of the flowers in his hand.
“Oh, Jacob, those are beautiful.” She stood and came to him, Mary on her heels. Dawn took the flowers and lifted them to her nose, inhaling deeply.
Jacob scooped Mary up into his arms. “What are they?”
She gave him a demure smile. “Cardinal flowers. Lobelia cardinalis. Thank you.” She pushed onto her toes and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. Then she drifted across the room, petticoats swaying as she retrieved a cup of water to place the flowers in.
“You are welcome. But Dawn, there is something I must tell you.”
Dawn turned, the smile falling from her face.
“There are Indians surrounding the fort. We must prepare for an imminent attack.”
Dawn’s eyes rounded, and she gripped the chair back beside her.
A knock sounded on the doorframe behind Jacob. He turned to find the same man in black from the day they arrived at the fort, Morgan.
“We have a problem.”
Jacob’s stomach dropped to the floor. What could be worse than being surrounded by enemy troops?
* * *
August 16, 1782
Dawn glanced around at the familiar faces stricken with fear as they stood just inside the station gates.
Most she recognized, but few of the people had ever spoken to her outside of when Mrs. Abbott had taken her around and made introductions when she first arrived.
Though no one at Bryan’s Station had ever outright scorned her, many still seemed reluctant to approach her.
Even now, with the danger they were about to face, several shot glances her way, their eyes going to her missing hand before they turned back.
Dawn sighed and Mrs. Abbott squeezed her shoulder. She offered the woman a wan smile. Rachel and Ruth stood beside their mother, their eyes round and mouths crimped. Mrs. Abbott spoke up. “Ladies, I believe it is time to pray.”
Dawn, Mrs. Abbott, and the girls knelt first. Then all the others followed suit.
Though not part of their normal routine and at the risk of drawing attention from those waiting outside, a great cry for safety went up from their small crowd as the women begged God for a safe trip to the spring and back.
Even when one woman finished praying, they each remaining kneeling until the last word of prayer had been uttered.
Then they were able to stand with their chins held high, knowing that their God went with them and before them.