Chapter 14
For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.
“I will keep them safe,” Mrs. Abbott assured him before she closed her door behind him a little later the day the women risked the trip to the spring.
Jacob had full faith that the woman would do her best to ensure the safety of every single person under her roof, but it did little to ease the knot in his middle.
If they were to come under attack, no one could guarantee their safety save for the good Lord above.
Jacob fell to his knee at the edge of the porch.
God, I know I have had little time for You for quite some time, but please do not hold that against me.
Please forgive me of my transgressions and keep Dawn and Mary.
Jacob stood and took a deep breath before he started toward Elijah’s cabin, where Edmund and several other men convened to discuss next steps.
Behind him, an eerie scream rent the air.
Jacob turned on his heel to see tiny objects flying over the back wall of the fort.
Arrows. They were under attack! “Get inside! Get inside,” he screamed at the few people who had been milling about, but who now seemed to be frozen in fear.
Then he took off running toward Elijah’s.
As he neared, Morgan exited the home and ran past without acknowledging him. Still, Jacob went inside. “They are attacking the back wall!”
Edmund nodded. “Morgan has gone to determine the risk and report back.”
The minutes seemed to tick by, one minute for every ten as they awaited the man’s return.
Elijah, Boone, Edmund, and several others all filled the small space, leaving no room for pacing.
Jacob flicked his gaze from man to man, but no one spoke.
Instead, an eerie silence fell over the station as her inhabitants took cover from the assailants.
Only gunshots and an occasional shout came through the open doorway.
Finally, Morgan’s build blocked the sunlight streaming in. “There is a small band of Indians attacking the back wall, causing more of a raucous than a threat. It cannot be all of their men. I believe it to be a ruse to draw us out.”
Elijah frowned. “We will send out a small group to test the waters. See what their plan is.”
“I will go,” Jacob volunteered as he stepped forward and pulled himself taller. Perhaps this was his chance to finally prove himself capable in battle. And he could not imagine sitting around waiting for another moment longer.
Edmund shook his head. “You have a wife and…” He stopped and looked to Elijah.
“I will take a handful of the single men with me. Just in case. There should be little threat to life, but I would not want to risk someone with a family simply to provide a distraction.” He turned back to Jacob.
“You and the others should stay here and provide defense should this draw the rest out.”
Jacob’s jaw clenched, but he did not protest. The man had a point, though if Edmund considered Mary his, then he, too, was a family man. Did he still not see the girl as his own? As it was, what happened if he were to be killed?
While a group of men readied themselves to venture outside the fort, the rest of them prepared to defend the structure from the inside.
All along the walls were portholes that allowed for a rifle barrel to be pushed through.
A man was stationed at every porthole as well as in the four turrets at the corners.
Another group stood at the ready within the fort, ready to defend the gate.
Jacob found himself at a porthole near the back of the fort.
Despite not knowing how the events would unfold, he sat preparing balls and patches.
If he had that much ready to go, he would only need to measure his powder between shots.
Hopefully, it would not be needed, but ’twas better to be prepared and not need it than to need it, and not be prepared.
Still, Jacob kept an eye on the front of the fort.
The gates opened, and Edmund led the group of volunteers out on their horses.
Immediately, shots volleyed. Edmund and his men swung their horses around, their mounts eating up what little ground they had covered.
But then a couple new riders joined them.
Two Indians came flying up through the ranks on their quick little speckled steeds.
“No,” Jacob screamed as they whooped and hollered their blood-curdling battle cries, torches in hand.
The men protecting the gate could not safely fire upon the Indians until they had passed their own men.
Even after they did, they somehow continued on without taking a hit.
Jacob stepped forward for a better vantage point, his eyes widening as the two riders split off in opposite directions and cast their torches onto the porches closest to them.
“Dawn!” Jacob abandoned his post and sprinted toward Mrs. Abbott’s cabin where one of the torches landed, the orange flames already beginning to grow. “Fire! Fire!”
There were others much closer, but he yelled, anyway, in hopes that it would draw out Dawn and the others. Someone was there with a bucket of water before he even reached the porch. Then there was Mrs. Abbott with a blanket, beating the flames into submission. Still, his legs pumped.
By the time his boots hit the porch, the flames were out and his breaths came heavy.
“Jacob. Come in, darlin’.” Mrs. Abbott motioned him into the house as she shook out her blackened blanket.
Finally, Jacob came to his senses. He glanced toward the entrance to ensure that all danger had passed.
The gates were closed, and people milled about the now-deceased Indians and their horses.
The men must have finally hit their mark.
All seemed under control, so Jacob took the opportunity to go to his wife.
As soon as he set foot in the house, Dawn came to him and wrapped him in a hug. Mary ran up and latched her little body around his leg. “Everyone was so scared.” Dawn pulled back enough to look up into his face, tears in her eyes.
How was it that they had been brought to this same situation with her in tears and clinging to him for comfort twice in a single day? And would it even be the last? For the day was not over yet.
“I know,” Jacob whispered and tightened his embrace. He nestled his face into her neck while he held Mary close with his other hand. What would he have done if he had lost either of them?
Jacob clenched his teeth. He had to find some way to ensure their safety, whether it was removing them from the fort and the turmoil this land carried, or eradicating the threat. But even if this threat was eliminated, what about the next?
* * *
This was all Dawn’s fault. If it were not for her and her drive to reunite Mary with her uncle, they never would have been in this situation.
But if she had never confronted her stepfather about going to Bryan’s Station, she and Mary would still be under their stepparents’ thumb.
And that had been another kind of nightmare.
Perhaps she could have forgotten her goal once they were in Jacob’s care, though? Then both he and they could be safe with his family in western Kentucky where the tensions were not so high.
Still, that was not the case either. There was no reason to regret what was in the past. Then she would not be married to this man who held her so tightly. If only they could bridge the one gap that still separated them.
Dawn took a deep breath and stepped back from Jacob.
“Everyone is well?” Jacob glanced from her to Mary, who had relinquished her grip on his leg.
Despite the scare she had suffered, Dawn nodded. “We are well.” No matter how the day’s events had worked to sever the threads of her nerves, she and Mary had come to no real harm. Everyone was safe, and that was all that mattered.
Suddenly, shots seemed to ring out from all around. Dawn jerked and ducked, then glanced about. Though the sounds were all around, there was no immediate threat.
Jacob squeezed her hand. “I have to go.”
Dawn nodded, but her heart constricted as she watched him go.
Mrs. Abbott flapped her arms at those still in the cabin.
“Come on, children. These men are going to need sustenance. Rebecca and Ruth, go to Mrs. Brooke and help her tend to any injured. Let us know if you run short on hands, though I pray you do not. The rest of us will prepare food and relay food and water to the men. They are not likely to stop to eat, but at some point, they will become hungry. It is our job to sustain them.”
Mrs. Abbott’s speech pulled everyone together. Any sense of fear and panic quickly transformed into a sense of purpose as every single one of them, from the youngest to the oldest, assumed their tasks.
Mary and Mrs. Abbott’s two younger children stayed behind to help with the food while Dawn took a bucket of water and ladle, offering drinks to the men.
A couple seemed parched already and grateful for a quick drink, whereas most declined so early in the battle.
Next, Mrs. Abbott had prepared a basket of bread for Dawn to take around.
Most of the men declined the bread as they readied their next shot, but a couple took a piece and shoved it in their mouth, nodding their thanks.
Arrows flew over the walls and landed near Dawn and the men.
Meanwhile, shots peppered the walls of the fort.
Thankfully, few penetrated the thick wood put in place for such purposes.
At first, Dawn flinched at every shot, but the longer she was out, the more the shots simply became noise and she went about her business, watching the skies for arrows.
When she returned to Jacob, his eyes widened at the sight of her. Then he moved to her. “Dawn, you are back.”
“I come bearing bread this time.” She lifted the basket in her hand.
A shot ricocheted off the rim of the porthole.
Dawn jerked. Jacob pushed her back toward the building behind them, farther from danger.
“It is not only Indians, but British as well. So many of them. We will need sustenance, but we will need munition more. Tell Mrs. Abbott. She will know what to do or will know someone who will.” He planted a quick kiss on her lips. “Be careful.”
Then Jacob was back at his post, using the ramrod to load the ball and patch and pouring in a measure of powder.
Dawn tore her eyes from him and darted back toward Mrs. Abbott’s.
She leapt onto the porch and dashed inside.
“Jacob says the men need munitions more than anything. We are surrounded by British and Indians.”
“Oh, dear.” Mrs. Abbott spoke the words as if a small child had simply fallen and scraped their knee, not as though they were in the middle of a battle for their lives.
“I should have known. Morgan runs the magazine room, but he may need assistance in assuring that each man has what he needs. Abraham, take a bucket and water around to the men. Mary and Sarah, stay here. I will be back soon. Come.” She motioned to Dawn.
Dawn followed her from the cabin and to the magazine room she spoke of.
The doors stood open to reveal a room filled with tables, crates, barrels, and weapons.
The smell of black powder met Dawn’s nose.
Mrs. Abbott stepped over the threshold. “Morgan, do you need an extra pair of hands to relay supplies to the men?”
“Yes.” Morgan motioned Dawn over without looking up from his task. Mrs. Abbott gave her arm a quick pat before she slipped from the room.
Dawn skirted around a table covered with rifles and moved over beside Morgan to find that he was preparing crates with balls, shot patches, and powder horns. He stopped, and his mouth crimped at the sight of her. His glance took her in from head to toe.
“Can you handle this?” Much to her surprise, his tone was not one of judgement. He only needed the truth.
“Yes.” She nodded. “If you continue to load the crates, I can deliver them to the men. And I should be able to carry two at a time so long as they are stacked one on top of the other.”
Morgan jerked his chin in understanding, then set back to work.
They formed a relay with Morgan preparing the crates of supplies and setting them in stacks of two while Dawn delivered them to the men defending the fort.
Once each man had received his first crate, she went through retrieving the empty crates for the process to repeat again.
It seemed the supplies were being used faster than they could deliver them.
Still, the day wore on and the fighting showed no hint of ending.
“Mrs. Dawn, do you need a drink?” Abraham came scurrying up behind her. His dark hair stuck out at all angles from sweat and exertion.
Dawn let a breath out as she lowered her empty crates to the ground and offered him a wan smile. These children were so resilient. She wiped the back of her sleeve across her own sweat-covered forehead before she accepted the ladle and drank of the thirst-quenching liquid.
“Come, Mr. Morgan will need a drink as well.” Dawn motioned toward the magazine room with her stump before she bent to pick up the crates. ’Twas not as easy lifting them from the ground as from the tables, but she managed, even with her aching arms. Then she led Abraham over.
While the boy gave Morgan a ladleful of water, Dawn swept her gaze over the barrels that filled the relatively small room, many of which they had already emptied. “Morgan, is this all the supplies we have?”
He paused only long enough to glance her way, his mouth set into a thin line. “Yes.”
Dawn swallowed. Would their supplies last, or would the fort be overtaken? What would happen then?