The Immortal American (The Immortal American Series) (37 page)

Then one of Mathew’s men fired upon the Regulars. I saw a Regular fall to the ground and scream as he lay at the feet of his comrades. The captain made up his mind, unsheathed his sword then raised it to the growing gray sky. The sun was in hiding for what happened next. The captain then lowered his rapier toward the copse, right at Mathew’s head.

I wasn’t going to have any of that.

Neither was Mathew, as he gave the signal to shoot, but before the militia had the time to pull the trigger, I set my sights on the Captain’s glorious tall hat. My breath was steady and long, and never closing my eyes, I held my breath and my finger did the rest. I blinked finally when the smoke hit me, but felt Sam nudge me as he said, “Jesus, good shooting. Just aim lower next time.”

I looked down and saw that the captain was without a hat and somehow had lost his sword, and the line of Regulars was faltering. Many soldiers were on the ground, some screaming, some quiet, and I waited with my pistol ready to see if they would shoot at my husband. Some of the Regulars were returning volley, but there was no aim in their firing, and some just shot their guns to the sky, perhaps begging to God for mercy, or angry at God for forsaking them.

The Captain’s horse stirred under him, but he had the gray mare under control within a moment. He was clearly confounded; he kept reaching for his phantom hat. A random Regular soldier bent down to retrieve it, then Sam fired his rifle. When the smoke cleared, I saw that Sam had not shot the soldier, but the hat from his hands. That gigantic black hat with gold fringe was again on the ground, now lying on its side.

I kept my hand steady on my pistol, waiting for my rifle to cool. I was too far away to aim with predictability for a pistol, and hoped I wouldn’t hurt any of the militia, as I watched the Regulars. The light infantry man who had tried to retrieve the hat looked down at it as if it were possessed. The officer, still on his horse, grunted something to the soldier and the troops began to march on. As the lobsterbacks double-time marched, they trampled the once glorious hat. Many had funneled through Meriam’s Bridge, but a few redcoats lay on the road, crying, screaming, or moaning. My heart twitched for the ones that made no noise at all.

There were periodic shots fired from the militia on both sides of the highway, and someone let loose a victorious scream–what some called an Indian war whoop, followed by a few rounds into the air, which made the Regulars begin to stampede away all the more.

Sam nudged me again with his elbow. “Now, we’ll really get ‘em to run.”

The Regulars were already running for their lives, and the militia was following.

Sam hurriedly grabbed his canteen, horn, cartridge bag and hat and scooted to his knees. “You coming?” he asked.

I looked down at Mathew and Jacque. For some strange reason they weren’t moving, just sitting on their horses, very close to each other, while their men raced on to keep up with the Regulars.

“No. I’m keeping close to Mathew, er, Lieutenant Adams.”

I looked up in time to see Sam smile warmly and nod. “Sure wish I could find me a wife like you.”

I thought of Melicent and smiled at him. “You will.”

He winked and waved good-bye as he bounded down the hill.

I peered down at Jacque and my husband, vaguely aware that I was staring at them from my rifle’s sights. I thought about greeting them, but the way they were whispering to each other, the way the shadows of their faces morphed into something dark, made me stay still.

Their murmurs became more dramatic, heated. Mathew threw a hand to the now opaque gray black sky, shaking his head vigorously.

Suddenly Mathew barked, “Because she’s my wife!”

My heart stopped.

Jacque turned away from Mathew and looked in my direction. Did he know I hid on top of the hill, shrouded by a juniper?

“I’m very aware of that.” I heard Jacque respond quite clearly.

Mathew and Jacque, in the darkness of the forest, turned from youthful men into twisted angry images—morbid and waxen.

“Don’t you take that patronizing, French tone with me.”

Jacque cocked his head to the side. “And what tone would you like me to take, hmm? German? Russian?”

The horses had started a nervous pawing at the ground and in so doing rotated in a tight circle close to each other.

Mathew made a furious gurgling noise. “The point is, Frenchman, that she’s my wife now. I know you understand that. Your English isn’t that poor.”

“What is your point?”

“She’s mine now!”  Mathew screamed.

Just a few days ago, or was it just this morning, I had thought how lovely it was to have Mathew be mine. To belong to me, to my heart. There was connection and closeness when I thought of Mathew as my husband; I felt luxuriously honored.

But the way he had yelled those words–smeared with something so utterly not romantic, not connection–so similar to what Jacque had said that one dreadful morning, didn’t ring of hearts belonging to each others. What Mathew was screaming felt like . . . ownership.

“Mine,” Mathew continued, “as in you dare touch her in any way, I’ll kill you. You speak to her ever again, and I’ll kill you.”

I could just guess the patronizing look Jacque was giving Mathew now.

“You think I’m not serious?”

“
Non, non
. I think you’re very serious. You will kill me. I wish you much luck with that endeavor.”

Mathew’s hand sprang to his pistol holster on his hip.

Jacque extended his hands in surrender. “Please,
mon ami
, there is so much fighting with the British soldiers today, can’t we just kill them? Not me?”

“Everything is a joke to you. But know this: I jest not! Violet has made her choice, and it was me she chose. She is
my
wife. Mine!”

There it was again–the resonating feeling that Mathew was talking about me as if he owned me. It was then that I realized why I took so much offense to when Jacque had called me his. It was for the same reason; he thought he possessed me, as if I were a mere trinket, not a woman, not a heart to love.

Irritated at Mathew’s tone, his meaning, it took me a couple seconds to realize the phrase Mathew had used regarding me making a choice. Mathew knew I had had another suitor. He had to have known about Jacque after all.

“My wife will do my bidding now.”

Oh, I really didn’t like that. I would have a serious talk with my husband later.

As Mathew continued my trigger finger itched.

“Which means that if I ask her to stay away from you, she will.”

Jacque actually chuckled. “You don’t know your wife very well, if you think that.”

Mathew pulled his pistol and placed it on Jacque’s right eye. “Don’t know my wife? I’ve known her since I was child, loved her since I was a child. I know everything about that woman. I know her feelings were briefly distracted by you, but in the end she chose me. She chose me!”

“
Oui
, yes, she chose you, so why are you trying to kill me? You have clearly won her. She’s yours, as you say. Yours.”

Mathew took his pistol away from Jacque’s face.

Jacque nodded, his voice softened. “You won her, because you are the better man between the two of us. I know this, Mathew.”

Mathew relaxed.

“But I am the one better
for
her.”

Mathew smacked the barrel of his gun against Jacque’s face again. Mathew’s jaw line tightened to the point where I almost didn’t recognize him.

“Go ahead,
mon ami
, pull the trigger.” Jacque said calmly. “Shoot me. I deserve it. That was a cheap thing for me to say.” He paused long enough to take a deep breath. “I am just an old, lonely man, Mathew. I am pathetic, and I know it. I am in love with a woman who is in love with . . . you. Trust me, I know how idiotic I am in this situation.”

Mathew again loosened his grip and let his pistol fall to his side. His face broke from its tense bindings into a softer plane, and I saw him search the canopy of the forest for some answer. He shook his head and said to Cherry’s neck. “Even though I should hate you, I cannot.”

“I hate myself enough for the both of us, I think.”

Mathew actually smiled briefly, but then he appeared to want to say something, yet just shook his head. Then he dug his heels in and Cherry flew through the woods.

More shots were fired, as I watched Jacque dismount, stumble, then fall onto the ground. I sprang from my camouflage and raced down the hill to him. He was on his haunches, leaning back, looking for answers at the top of the trees as Mathew had done.

“Where are they going?” I asked.

Jacque sprang on me faster than a mountain lioness searching for prey for her cubs. He hovered over me, pinning me down once more with his powerful arms and legs, but relaxed once recognition passed his eyes. He closed his lids and seemed to sway down almost touching my body.

“Violet,” he whispered over and over again. After a moment he asked, “How did you sneak up on me?”

His hold on me had loosened and I knew I could escape, but just stared up at him. Once, now another world away, I’d wanted Jacque exactly where he was, between my legs, painfully close. I swallowed and heard his heart pounding. “You were probably distracted by the argument you just had with Mathew.”

Jacque leaned away from me, still a hand on my stomach, but gave me enough room to sit up.

“
Oui
, perhaps, I was . . . absorbed in our conversation.”

“Pointing a pistol at your head hardly makes for any kind of
conversation
.”

Jacque shrugged. “If I was him, I would have taken that shot and killed me. He has every right to be angry. Hate me.” He slowly shook his head and released his hand from my waist. “I tried so hard not to love you or even think about you. I fought harder at not loving you than any battle I have been in.”

I nodded, but couldn’t respond. I’d fallen in love with him too. As I looked upon his sad blue eyes, long nose that I adored, and unshaven hollowed cheeks, I hated that I still found him so arresting. I hated that I could remember how I’d never had as much pleasure in a conversation as I had with him. I hated that we could finish each other’s sentences, something Mathew and I still couldn’t do, although we’d known each other all our lives. Even though falling in love with Jacque seemed to happen in another lifetime, I remembered it well. But then I dredged up how he’d killed me twice, and I stiffened my spine.

He sighed.

We stared at each other for a long moment. The chilly breeze of the morning was back. The trees around us drooped with the heavy burden of the day’s battle and now wounded hearts.

He started to talk, but only the strained sound of a man dying came out. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I will send you a map of India, where I found the spring water, at least as close to it as I can recall. I ventured to China as well, for it was there that I heard about eight immortals and thought I could find them, discover more about my condition, but I never found anyone. I’ll send you my notes on that journey anyway. Perhaps you and Mathew will discover more than I have. You have each other. Two are better than one.” He stopped abruptly and looked down at the space between us. “I will search on my end to find if there is a cure, of course. I will let you know anything I find.” He slowly lifted his head and stared into my eyes. “With all my heart, Violet, I’m so sorry. In a desperate and lonely act I have done such wrong to you, to Mathew too. But I will make this right. I promise.”

I realized then that he was trying to leave me. We would be in contact, because my undying conditioned needed to be solved, but he would keep his distance. He was promising me that.

I nodded. “I have to catch up with Mathew.”

He just looked at me for a long moment, then he sighed. “Good bye, Violet.”

The words spilled out of my mouth before I had time to censor them. “
Au revoir, mon amour.
”

I saw his eyes widen, but I bolted from him. I ran and ran and ran. I had somehow scooped up my rifle and already had the bag of bullets on my belt, but as I sprinted I fumbled to make sure the bullets were secure, that my rifle was still in my grasp. That was the only thing that slowed me down, otherwise I raced until I was past the tail end of the militia men as they were beginning to near Lincoln.

At this point I didn’t care any longer if anyone saw me. I just wanted Mathew to be safe. I slowed to a trot and as I was gaining my breath, someone snapped my arm and twirled me around.

“Sam,” I whispered on a smile as my chest smacked into his.

He smiled down at me, then kept his hold on my arm as we crept to a thicket of Tulip trees. “Violet,” he whispered, “your eyes and that rifle are needed up here. We’ve got one lieutenant down, but we need to get a few more captains. Those redcoats sure know how to run, I tell you.”

I nodded and crouched low into the thicket that revealed three other men. They all stared at me. They were mostly young men, twenty years of age at the most, except for one man of thirty or so that I recognized also from Acton.