War of Hearts, A Historical Romance (4 page)

He glanced at the bartender whom was looking
the other way, his mouth set in a grim line. Was there no solace to
be had? He left a tip and headed back into the night. His heart was
a bit heavier.

***

Sarah sat waiting for General Washington to
continue. He came from around the desk and sat in the chair next to
her.

“I have a crew made up to go into Philly. It
would be more believable if a woman was with them.”

Her eyes widened, crossing into enemy lines
was akin to suicide. Would that be a quicker death than starvation
or disease? She thought of the men she had treated who had been run
through with bayonets; no it would not be easier. Especially as a
woman.

She heard someone speak, “I’ll do it,” and
was shocked to find it was herself. After all, if there was any
chance of getting more supplies, wasn’t it worth the risk? She knew
Silas would have volunteered, and so shall she.

George nodded to her. “You leave
tonight.”

After receiving her orders, Sarah headed
back to the hospital. She tried to ignore Robert and Margaret’s
prodding eyes. She knew she should be resting for the journey, but
she had too much emotion built up. Oh, why couldn’t she have
inherited some of her brother’s courage?

She sipped some thin broth for supper, it
wasn’t much, but it was warm. Margaret lumbered over and sat next
to her.

“Spill the beans.”

“He needs me to get some supplies.”

“Supplies? From where?”

“Philadelphia.”

“Are you senseless?”

“Perhaps, but look at us! We’re half
starved, half froze, what choice do I have?”

Margaret set her lips together in a grim
line. The one Sarah had seen countless of times. With a sigh, she
reached into her ragged clothing and pulled out a hatpin.

“Well if you must go, you better arm
yourself.”

“How will a pin help?”

“A good jab to the throat or eye will get
their attention.”

Sarah carefully grasped the sharp piece of
steel and hugged her friend. She could feel her bones through her
clothing and knew she had made the right decision.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Be safe,” Margaret replied, watching her
scamper out of site.

Sarah made her way to the quartermaster’s
tent. She was a bit early but unable to calm her nerves. She
attached the pin to her skirt within easy reach of her hand.
Several men were gathered around and she nervously looked for
Pearson, her contact.

“I’m looking for Mr. Pearson,” she stated,
her voice sounding thin and weak even to her own ears.

“You found him,” the burliest one of the
bunch replied, stepping forward.

“General Washington sent me to accompany
you.”

The man eyed her grimly, “Come along
then.”

A bit wearily, she ducked into the tent
after him. He had a map laid out on his bedroll and quickly went
over the plan. They were to pick up a wagon in town and ride to
Philadelphia. There would be men in the woods, to give them cover,
if they were discovered. The cover story was that the rebels had
run them from their home and they needed to seek shelter within the
city.

He handed her a pass into the city, a pass
that had cost several of their lives to procure.

“Just let me do all the talkin’. And don’t
look them in the eye.”

“Why not?”

“It’s best for them not to notice how pretty
you are.”

Sarah nodded, her eyes widening as she
thought of the soldiers who attacked her farm.

He patted her on the shoulder with his
large, boney hand. “You listen to me and we might just get back
alive.”

The two began their journey on foot. Sarah
was bequeathed a pair of ice creepers. The bent metal was tied to
her shoe to steady her on the slippery ground. They hoped to make
it before nightfall.

Snow started to fall. It acted as an
insulator as well as covering their tracks. The less people out and
about, the better. She hardly noticed when their accompanying
guards slipped silently into the forest.

“And how are we to carry the supplies back?”
Sarah asked.

Pearson chuckled. “Steal a wagon.”

A bark of laughter escaped Sarah. “Of
course, they won’t notice that at all!”

The two were silent as they marched on
through the deepening snow, each lost in their own thoughts.

Sarah had never been to Philly; in fact she
had never been much of anywhere, until they joined the army. She
had heard tell of the grand city with the towering mansions and
buildings lining the streets.

Thoughts of the red coats growing fat and
strong, gave her energy and her steps became more determined.

The walking kept her body warm enough,
however she had to keep wiggling her fingers to keep the blood
flowing. She was trying desperately to keep up with her companion’s
effortless strides and she soon began to pant.

Finally noticing her peril, he slowed down a
bit. She wanted to ask him about his life, if he had a family, why
he was on this mission. But her fear of being overheard kept her
quiet. She knew their people were in the woods, and if she couldn’t
see them. There could be others.

She heard him curse out loud as he came to a
halt, holding his boot up. Sarah risked a peek to see a thin,
spiked piece of metal sticking out of the sole of his boot.

A caltrop. The bent metal was thrown on the
ground to deliberately injure horses. They must be getting closer
if the British were worried about cavalry attacks. She watched as
Pearson plucked it out and put it in his pocket.

Their pace was slower after that, due to
looking out for more caltrops, or favoring his sore foot. She
wasn’t sure, but she was grateful for the break.

Sarah’s legs were leaden, since they had
reached camp in December; she had no reason to march recently. The
soldiers had their drills, but her camp was close to the hospital,
so had become more complacent. No matter how uncomfortable the camp
was, it was her home now, and she considered the men and Margaret
her family.  

The snow stopped and the sun shone down
brilliantly in orange, red, and purple. The shadows of the trees
grew longer, and Sarah started walking faster; she did not want to
be in the woods after dark.

A halt was sounded, and she instinctively
gripped Pearson’s arm. Her heart beat faster, the Red uniforms
shining brightly against the fallen snow, reminding her of blood.
There were four of them, and as they drew closer Pearson held his
arms up, showing he was unarmed, and he shouted to the heavens.

“God Bless us, and God Bless our king!”

Sarah cried out, the one closest to them was
lunging forward, striking Pearson in the head with the butt of his
rifle. Pearson fell to his knees and Sarah jumped in front of him
holding the piece of parchment up high.

“We have a pass, we have a pass!” her
shaking voice repeated the mantra until it was grasped out of her
hand.

The soldier squinted at it in the failing
light; Sarah snatched it from his hand and stuffed it into her
bosom. Her eyes glared at him defiantly. The soldier eyed her a
moment before nodding, and stepping back.

Still wary, Sarah grabbed Pearson’s collar
and helped heave him to his feet. He swayed and leaned heavily on
her; whether it was an act or not, she couldn’t be sure.

They slowly shuffled down the path, and out
of site. Darkness was upon them; the lights from the town were
their guides. They passed by the second post without a hitch, and
then they were in Philadelphia.

Sarah couldn’t help but gaze around at the
richness of the city. A fitting capitol for a new nation. Too bad
the British were occupying it.

“Are you all right?” she asked, even her
whisper sounding loud in the still night.

She received a grunt in reply, and decided
to take it as a yes.

Suddenly, Pearson turned, pulling her into
his arms. She gasped in surprise, but instead of a kiss, he hugged
her tightly. His mouth was firm against her ear as he whispered
instructions.

Moisture remained when he pulled away, and
she fought the urge to wipe it off. Instead she headed up to the
next door and knocked, leaving him leaning against the wall.

A shaft of light split the night when the
door opened, revealing another soldier.

“Do you have oil for my lantern?” she asked,
repeating the odd words she was told.

“That and more,” he said ushering them
quickly inside.

She watched as Pearson clasped hands with
him, and began discussing the plan. Sarah raised a quizzical eye
upon learning the plan was to drive a wagon full of supplies, back
the way they had come.

“Do you think they are daft?” she asked.

“No, but at dawn, new guards will be posted.
They will not question a respectable merchant, and his wife,
returning to his village.”

Sarah still felt doubtful; however she was
too tired to argue. Her feet ached, her clothes were cold and wet,
and the fire in the hearth was way too inviting. With the hope of
bringing medicine back to her boys, she lay down to rest.

Dawn broke, bringing with it a slow steady
drizzle. Sarah strained her eyes in the dim light as she rose. The
men were already awake and whispering.

She frowned at being left out. A cup of
bitter tea was thrust into her hands and she gulped down the hot
brew. She didn’t see what all the fuss was about over tea; since
traveling with the army, she had learned to enjoy coffee, when it
was available.

Her stomach growled with hunger and she
received a stale biscuit for her embarrassment. She listened in on
the plans as she nibbled. The food and tea warmed her spirit; when
a wagon arrived in front of the house full of supplies, she was
ready. Pearson guided her up onto the high bench and crossed to the
other side. The bench dipped when he sat next to her and she
grasped the seat to steady herself.

Thin beams of light peeked through the town
and Sarah readily took it all in. It was a beautiful city. Stately
some would call it, with its large homes and sturdy brick
buildings.

The wagon creaked as the horses moved
restlessly. Sarah turned her attention to them. They were as ragged
as any horse she had ever seen. She doubted if they would even last
the trip. She glanced at Pearson wordlessly and he shrugged a
shoulder. What choice did they have?

He let out a yip to get the horses moving
and they soon were off. They made their way toward the gate they
had entered. There was much scurrying around the gate and she
recognized the soldier that hit Pearson. She grabbed his arm in
warning and slightly shook her head.

His mouth set in a grim line as he expertly
guided the load down a side street. They would need to go through
town and exit to the north. It was longer, but less risky.

Sarah, remembering her part, repeated the
mantra in her head.
My sister has fallen ill, and we are heading
to New York.

She held her breath as they arrived at the
next waypoint. The solider walked up to question them and Pearson
held up his papers. Just as the soldier went to grab them, the sky
opened up and a freezing rain drenched them all.

Glancing at the sodden mess, he waived them
through, hurrying back to shelter. Sarah said a silent prayer,
pulling her cloak tightly around her and leaned into ‘her husband’
for warmth. The horses protested, and Pearson lay heavy on the whip
until they were out of sight.

Cold rain ran down her neck, but they
pressed on. Before long they were forced to stop and rest the
horses. Sarah offered them some sugar cubes she had taken from the
house. The horses greedily ate them as she patted their thin necks.
She wasn’t sure whose horses these were, but she silently cursed
the owners for letting them become so emaciated.

The trip home, if you could call it home,
seemed to take even longer. The rain kept up a steady deluge and
thankfully kept most people off the road. By the time they arrived
home, Sarah’s teeth were chattering and she could barely feel her
hands. She barely recalled being lifted down from the wagon and
wrapped in a blanket.

She awoke to the sound of a crackling fire.
Robert was sitting on the side of her bed with a worried expression
on his face. She looked around at the cabin, wondering where she
was.

“You’re in the General’s quarters,” he
spoke, answering her silent question. “He requested I tend to you
and Pearson.”

At the mention of her partner she sat up,
looking around until she spotted his large frame on a mat by the
fireplace. His snoring almost made the walls shake. She smiled in
spite of herself.

“I’m fine,” she replied

“You are lucky.”

“Look at the supplies we brought back.”

He guffawed, “What? A dozen blankets, some
dried beef, bandages and rum? Is that worth risking your life?”

Her eyes narrowed angrily. “Yes, if my
journey brought comfort to just one man it would be worth it.”

Robert leaned toward her, his voice low and
husky. “I would give anything for you to comfort me.” He pulled her
close and kissed her soundly on the lips.

Sarah’s eyes widened in shock, she had never
kissed a man before. The only other time she had been kissed was
when Billy Johnson, a neighbor boy, had tricked her into meeting
him behind his barn. He got a black eye for his trouble.

But this was different; his arms crept
around her back and pulled her close. So close she could barely
breathe. Everything was in slow motion as she put up her hands to
push him away. Her still sleepy mind was struggling to make sense
of these new sensations.

Pearson grumbled in his sleep and broke the
spell. Sarah turned her head to break contact, pushing desperately
at his chest.