SEVEN
Maggie was appalled when Levi shared his plan with them once the two corporals had retired to the barn. Even Abigail protested. But Levi was sure of the plan. And they were desperate.
Only Abigail seemed to guess at the real reason behind Maggie’s feelings. “Levi, please. There must be another way.”
But he shook his head. “Abby, we must. It’s been nearly two days. Thee saw the wound. Imagine it festers and he dies? The cellar is but one hundred yards from the barn. Moving a dead body would be impossible. Leave it, and the smell would give us away. He needs help.”
“I know, I know. But I don’t like the idea of it. At. All.” Abigail stated vehemently.
Maggie’s stomach churned. Levi spoke the truth, but how could she possibly manage it? She just would have to be brave. Any thought of Henry would be pushed aside.
“Tell me what to do,” Maggie said to Levi.
The plan was simple, if all went well. Levi said he’d noticed Corporal Sullivan’s strange attention to Maggie during dinner.
He’d also seen how Sullivan watched Maggie during the butchering.
At first, Levi was tense, ready to protect Maggie from any immoral behavior.
But then, when Sullivan handed her the cup of water, Levi realized it was a matter more respectable than his prior beliefs.
The tenderness in Sullivan’s eyes was a dead giveaway.
Levi had to be aware of the emotional connection between Maggie and his brother-in-law. But he wasn’t asking her to fall in love with Corporal Sullivan. Just to form enough of a relationship with him that would ensure their survival.
The three inhabitants of the house went over the plan again and again until Maggie felt slightly comfortable about what exactly would need to happen. The only unpredictable piece of the puzzle was Corporal Griffen.
The man was a lazy cow. He so far appeared to be lured only by his stomach. And somewhat, his friendship with Sullivan. Hopefully, that would be what guided him tomorrow.
Maggie took a deep breath. Her knees were shaking, and she felt sick. As dawn came, the comfort she’d had last night evaporated. Before she could talk herself out of it, she knocked on the barn door.
Inside, there was a groan. “Ugh, go away, whoever it is.”
Another voice answered, “Get up, Charles. You were supposed to be on watch anyway.”
“On watch? On watch for what?”
She heard more rustling and a sigh. Then, the barn door was thrown open. “Miss Ackerman?” Sullivan hastily tried to fix his copper hair that stood up in all directions.
Maggie stepped back. “I brought a plate for breakfast. All that’s left from last night. When Sullivan reached for the plate, she added, “And to thank you. For the water last night, I mean.”
His face was expressionless. “It was just water.”
Odd response… had they all guessed incorrectly at his attraction? But what did she really know of men’s feelings?
Still keeping with the plan, she hurried on. “I was wondering what you both planned on doing while you were here?”
He frowned. “What business is that of yours?”
Trying her best to appear bashful, she looked at the ground. “None. It’s just… I’ve come to care for these people that I’m with. Levi has a hard time dealing with the flock on his own and I just thought, you seemed so good at the butchering yesterday that you—”
“What is it that you want?”
“Levi needs to move the rest of the flock closer to the house to keep watch over them. Abigail normally helps him, but she’s overdone it. I’m worried about her and I’d like you to help him.”
“And why would I do that?”
The indignation lit the fire, and she locked eyes with him. “Because they will be feeding us, after all,” Gesturing around her, she taunted him. “Unless you’d rather be in here alone with your friend.” It was something her brothers would’ve said, though she didn’t fully understand the implication.
As if on cue, Griffen’s loud snores echoed.
Sullivan’s mouth dropped open, but he quickly regained composure. His eyes narrowed. “Tell Howard to be ready to leave in ten minutes.”
As Maggie walked away, she heard him shout, “Griffen, wake up! It’s your lucky day. Today, you get to be a sheep farmer.” The sarcasm was thick.
Smirking, she focused on casually putting one foot in front of the other instead of skipping back to the house. The plan had actually worked.
With a quick nod to Levi and Abigail once inside, part two of the plan began. Abigail disappeared back into the bedroom in case the two soldiers entered the house. Levi grabbed his walking stick and went out to the barn to meet them.
From the window, Maggie could see that Sullivan’s temper was hot. Clearly, she’d struck a nerve. She nervously bit her lip.
Please don’t back out.
Only when the men started heading toward the upper fields did she let out the breath she’d been holding. “Abigail, they’re gone.”
Abigail emerged from the bedroom and reached into the cupboard for the tied-up bundle she’d placed there last night. The soldiers had deprived her of most of her medicines, but she had a few herbs left. “Let’s hurry.”
Maggie’s heart rate climbed when they reached the cellar. There was no telling what they would find.
“Don’t be afraid. It is us, my friend,” Abigail called out as they came down the ladder.
There was no answer. Panic and adrenaline filled her. She and Abigail threw the empty crates away from the cache and pried the door open. The stench of urine drifted out, but as Maggie’s eyes adjusted to the dim, she saw him.
His eyes were wide in fear, but blinking. He was alive.
Abigail crouched down. “Does thee remember me?” She spoke softly and gave him as much space as the tight quarters would allow. “Is thee alright?”
Her voice seemed to calm him. He sighed deeply and nodded, leaning back against the wall. “What’s happened?”
Abigail quickly apprised him of the details of the past forty-eight hours.
“I thought they were going to find me. They were so close. Just on the other side of the wall. I could hear them laughing and making noise. Then, they were gone and there was nothing but darkness.” He shivered, recounting his version of the events.
“I knew something bad must’ve happened and I’d be trapped in here. ”
The mental torture he’d endured was unimaginable, and the thought of it twisted Maggie’s insides.
Abigail gently placed her hand on his arm. “We wouldn’t let that happen. But they are coming back, and we don’t know how long. Let’s tend to thy leg and restock thy supplies. Maggie, would thee empty his bucket above ground and bring back the water?”
The man looked up, suddenly remembering she was there. He looked wary, as if he were debating whether or not she could be trusted. Feeling increasingly awkward, she didn’t know how to address him.
Following Abigail’s lead, she crouched down to be on the same level. “I’m sorry we are meeting like this. My name is Maggie.”
He seemed bewildered and continued to stare at her. Maggie’s palms began to sweat. What now?
After a lengthy pause, he gave a curt nod. “Isham.”
“We must hurry, Maggie,” Abigail gently butt in to remind. She was right, of course.
Maggie hurried away to do as Abigail had asked, grateful she didn’t have to navigate more conversation for now.
But when she returned, she first felt the tension filling the small space.
Then her nose detected the smell.
In a way of telling her, Abigail removed the cloth she had over Isham’s leg. Even in the dim light and without medical experience, Maggie recognized gangrene—the smell of decay coming from the wound was distinct.
Isham knew it as well. A sheen of sweat coated his skin, and he’d closed his eyes.
With no medical supplies and the men due back at any time, what could be done? Maggie looked to Abigail, but Abigail refused to meet her gaze.
Taking the small jar of yeast she’d brought, Abigail dumped it into the wound. Isham stiffened but made no sound. Maggie handed Abigail a fresh roll of bandage to wrap the leg.
“Isham, I am so sorry. We’ll do everything that we can. Stay strong, Isham—thine strength and bravery have already brought thee this far.”
Tears streamed down from his still-shut eyes. He knew there was no hope. “How long?”
Abigail appeared to struggle to control her emotions. “Not long. Maybe a few days. If I were a surgeon and could operate on thee… maybe thee would live. But I am desperately sorry that I lack the skills and tools to save thy life.”
Isham seemed to accept his fate slowly, and his eyes pleaded with Abigail.
“Please, can you help me out of here? Just get me to the edge of the woods and I will try to walk away. I don’t want to die down here in this hole.
” His voice was flat, emotionless. But his eyes gave away how frightened he was at the prospect of being in the dark, alone.
Without hesitation, Abigail implored Maggie, “Help me get him up.”
Maggie had learned by now not to question Abigail.
And besides, there wasn’t time. It took several precious minutes to get him upright and close the cache back up.
Islam was pale and shaking, staring up at the ladder.
When he first tried to put weight on his bad leg, he nearly collapsed.
Maggie’s heartbeat was racing nervously, counting down the passing minutes, but Abigail seemed to possess an extra inner strength.
She instructed Maggie to go up and give Isham a hand down.
Then, together with her pushing and Maggie pulling, they got him up onto level ground.
The three lay in the dirt, breathing heavily. As soon as they regained their breath, they got up, ready to move him again across the yard.
Maggie and Isham were poised to head into the direction of the woods, but Abigail stopped them. “No, he comes into the house.”
They looked at her as if she had sprouted horns, but Abigail ignored them. “Keep moving,” she ground out.
When they got him to the door, Maggie panted. “Abigail, what do you intend to do?”
“There’s another cache hidden under our bed. Once the soldiers are back and settled in the barn, we can bring him out.”