Glimpse Time Travel: Enemy Of Mine Part 24

All of that would happen if she didn't keep Will safe.

Swallowing, she somehow felt that the liveryman was a better listener than Mrs. Jacobs. "I know. I'm sorry to put you in such a predicament, but I'm so worried about the General."

He nodded. "I can understand why. It would be mighty hard on me to wait as a loved one went off to war."

"I promise I'll stay in safe places." She lied. "I-I just want to ensure he stays out of danger."

Combing a few thin gray strands of hair over his head, the liveryman nodded. "Mayhap I should go with you."

She shook her head and clutched at the man's s.h.i.+rtsleeve. "Please, don't trouble yourself. Plus, if Will doesn't see you, then I won't tell him you helped me. He'll never know."

"Oh, my lady, I don't care about that. And I don't care about the man's wrath, if he has such a temperament. But I do understand love. Please don't be reckless."

At that Erva couldn't hold back and hugged the small man in a tight hold.

Within a few minutes she sat upon a white horse with amazing blue eyes that the liveryman-Amos, she finally found out his name-had said was deaf. She didn't trust herself to sit sidesaddle, so she sat astride the beast, first making sure her petticoats were under her. G.o.d, she might have to invent panties, knowing how useful they could be when riding a horse.

Finally she was off, trotting through the cobblestone streets, trying to remember her way to the pier. Well, even if she forgot entirely, she did have the noise from the Royal Navy, continually firing off cannons every few minutes. After a little time alone with the horse, she got it to cantor, while she tried to remember how Will had used his hips to ride more comfortably with the horse's stride. G.o.d, she wished she could be with him now. Fear p.r.i.c.ked her skin, making her feel feverish and as if she might cry at any moment.

Down at the docks there were lines of soldiers, horses everywhere, and the huge sailboats, the Man of Wars, slicing through the water aiming at Manhattan. The smell of the sea mixed with gunpowder a.s.saulted her nostrils, making her blink. The pier itself was not much other than a few docks, where not a boat was tethered. The sandy beach that surrounded the wooden planks glowed gold, and might have been a serene scene, if it weren't for the red-clad soldiers, preparing for war, on the rocky soil. On Manhattan, across the mighty Hudson River, smoke spiraled to the blue sky, and Erva saw lines of redcoats on the island as well. Too many lobsterbacks to make heads or tails who was whom. She tried peering into the crowd of men around her, all seeming to be hot, and many now openly gawking at her. She supposed she did look a sight in her all white dress, white horse, and her hair hanging over her shoulder, without even a hat. She hadn't thought of wearing gloves, she'd been too much in a hurry.

G.o.d, how could she find Will in all this?

"My lady?"

Erva faintly heard a shy, female voice call out.

"Lady Ferguson?"

She finally spotted a pretty blonde waving and walking toward her in a rush.

"You are the Lady Ferguson, je?"

The woman's German accent was now noticeable. Erva nodded.

In a light blue dress and matching hat, the woman curtsied, while Erva kept staring down at her from her horse's height.

"I am Friederike Riedesel. My husband-"

"Mrs. Riedesel?" Erva interrupted, because she knew who she was. Friederike was the wife of one of the most brilliant Hessian officers to come to the continent for the war. And she went everywhere with her husband, including their children.

"Je, that is my name. Has your man spoken of my husband? By the by, I know of the announcement and congratulations on your wedding with General Hill."

"Thank you," was all Erva could think of to say. She was breathless because she couldn't believe she was meeting a woman who'd kept a pristine diary of her doings here during the war. It was thanks to the woman before her that many historians knew so much of what life was like for the Hessians as well as camp followers. But also whirling around in Erva's mind was the fact that everyone seemed to know from some announcement that she was getting married to Will. It was making Twitter look slow. However, more than anything she wanted Will beside her. Her fear of what might be happening was overcoming her.

Friederike reached up a hand to Erva. "I am very pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," Erva said while shaking the hand offered. "You haven't happened to see General Hill, have you?"

"This morning, before the battle, je." Friederike smiled shyly as she took back her hand, placing it over her heart. "He seemed most happy."

Erva felt her cheeks begin to burn, although she was already warm from the early fall sun. But she pressed on. "You wouldn't happen to know how I could find him in all this, would you?"

Friederike's grin widened. "You worry over him already? How sweet."

Erva forced herself not to roll her eyes, but just nodded.

"Well, my lady, I'm sorry to say, that he will be most hard to find in the midst of this. You will have to wait. Wait with me. My children are at our home, and I have no one to talk to."

Erva didn't think she could merely wait, but if she sat then she could think of a plan to cross the river that lay between her and Will in the meantime.

After ensuring the white horse to a safe stable, Friederike showed her to an open tent, where under it a dark wood table sat with four matching chairs. On the table was an a.s.sortment of late fall fruits-apples and some berries. Cheese and some kind of crusty bread were close by too.

"Eat, my lady."

Erva looked at Friederike who seemed to be wincing.

"My English is not so good. I'm sorry."

Erva smiled as she sat opposite the pretty lady. "Mein Deutsch ist nicht so gut."

Friederike perked up, her eyes wide, and she clutched over her heart. "You speak my language?"

"Only a little. I'm sorry."

Friederike's blue eyes glistened with sudden tears. She blinked rapidly and clutched her handkerchief to face. "I'm so sorry, my lady, for my outburst. But I've been so lonely for a woman friend. And here you are, not only are you marrying a man my husband highly respects, but you speak my language."

Erva wished she could say how nice it would be to become her friend. But she couldn't have Will stay in the war another moment. Still, she had to say something.

"Ich fhle mich sehr geehrt," Erva said, relaying she was honored.

Friederike waved her kerchief in the air as she silently wiped at her tears. "I'm very happy now."

"Me too."

"Will you eat with me then? I know it is much past the lunch hour, but I couldn't eat earlier. Too worried. Now that the battle seems to be pa.s.sing, I think I can eat. You?"

Erva glanced at the sun in the sky. It was the afternoon. G.o.d, she'd slept for hours then, and trying to find Will hadn't been a piece of cake, taking much longer than she'd wanted it to. It must have been around two in the afternoon. She should be hungry, but she touched her belly, feeling uneasy.

"I would love to eat, but I'm so nervous. Do you get nervous for your husband in...?" Erva gestured toward the sound of the cannons and the occasional far-off musket shot.

"Oh, yes. I get nervous every time. I was much more nervous when I was first married, I remember." Friederike leaned forward conspiratorially. "I know I should not ask, but I was most nervous when I was with child. Could that be why the lady refuses to eat?"

Erva knew she truly blushed then, and shook her head. "I-no, I'm not."

Friederike's smile s.h.i.+mmered with mischief. "It is none of my business anyway. But I do like babies."

More as a gesture to rea.s.sure her host that she wasn't pregnant, Erva picked up an apple and ate it while thinking of how to cross the Hudson. For the next hour or so Erva went out of her mind as she listened to Friederike gossip about some of the British officers' mistresses, then confide how much she'd wanted a friend, as she kept circling around the subject of having children.

Finally, Erva was thinking of swimming across the Hudson-hey, it wasn't nearly as polluted as it would be in two hundred years-when she heard her name called out again. This time by a deep voice she recognized.

Standing, she rushed out of the tent to see Sergeant McDougal slowly walking toward her.

"That is you, my lady." He bowed before he continued walking.

She halfway curtsied, but mainly threw herself at him, hugging him. He was dirty and smelled of gunpowder and wasn't at all prepared for her embrace. But he laughed as he caught her.

"Happy to see me?"

"Where is he?" She huffed.

"Ah, I knew it too good to be true."

She tried to laugh, trying even harder to find patience and not throttle him for not immediately telling her where Will was.

Sergeant McDougal squeezed her arms. "He's fine, my lady. He's still at Kip's Bay, securing the area."

She let out a huge waft of pent up air, she didn't even know she'd been holding. Then she finally did laugh, as a tear rolled down one of her cheeks. "He's fine," she repeated.

Sergeant McDougal gave her another squeeze. "I've heard of your upcoming marriage, and may I wish ye congratulations, my lady." He leaned close, and whispered into her ear. "I'm glad he's retiring, for although he was a good officer and soldier today, he needs to be with ye, ifnye don't mind my opinion on that."

Another tear escaped her eye and she shook her head, smiling at the sergeant when he leaned further away. "I don't mind at all."

He stood tall, smiling down at her, but then tilted his rusty-colored head to the side. "Would ye like to go to him?"

She almost crumbled to the sandy ground in relief. All she could do was nod enthusiastically.

"I'm sure I can get ye across to see him. The Continentals all ran with their tails tucked between their legs."

Erva didn't like the reference the Scot had made, but she knew at the Battle of Kip's Bay the American Army had not been at their best. It would take almost two years before they were finally ready to battle the British toe-to-toe, and by then they had French, well-trained reinforcements to help.

She said a farewell to Friederike, whom she promised she would see again soon. Erva hated lying to the woman, but she was so lonely Erva was scared if she related that Will was retiring she'd try to talk him out of it. In Friederike's diary she often wrote of her loneliness, but she was glad to be with her husband, and her husband was that much a better officer with her beside him.

It seemed to take an eternity to get a long boat to ferry her across the dinge-colored Hudson. Sergeant McDougal escorted her with about twenty other redcoat soldiers, all staring at her. She was the only woman going across, but she didn't care.

By then the Royal Navy had stopped their bombing, and there wasn't a musket shot heard. But looming in the air was the tenseness of war. It crackled and snapped against Erva's skin, making her want to be with Will all the more. He would calm her. But that wasn't why she wanted to be close to him. Although she knew the outcome of today's battle, she was scared out of her mind about his welfare.

Finally, on the sandy sh.o.r.e of Kip's Bay, Sergeant McDougal extended his arm for her, and she thought it a bit silly to parade around the beach as if they were taking a Sunday turn. She swallowed, realizing she'd used even more eighteenth-century jargon. It was rea.s.suring. There had been a few nagging thoughts of things she might miss from her time, but the fact that Will's idioms were coming so easily seemed like a good sign. This was where she was meant to be.

Sergeant McDougal asked where Will was, and they went into a small village with tiny white washed taverns and even smaller houses built close to each other. The late afternoon's sun pelted out its punishment with too bright and hot beams, making everything seem too vivid. Row upon row of young redcoated soldiers gaped at her as she walked past them. Some ogled, some smiled. One fell on his knees and begged her to marry him as his friends laughed and pushed him over. Sergeant McDougal yelled at them, using some strong language that he apologized for after.

Then, over a small hill where a round brick well usurped most of the road, she finally saw him, Will. He sat on a black horse, smiling down at a man who was talking and pointing to the north. Will nodded but pointed in her direction. That was when he saw her. His smile vanished instantly. She didn't care, but began to run to him.

He lifted his back leg and sprang from the saddle in a rather unorthodox way, but he did it with ease and, well, he looked rather s.e.xy jumping from the horse like that. He jogged toward her, and all she could see was him. His face slowly began to spread into a small smile, but suddenly the grin froze. His eyes widened, and he reached for his pistol.

Alarmed, Erva kept loping toward him, never seeing that she ran straight into the arms of a filthy man, dressed in a royal blue coat and taupe breeches. He caught her with such force, that for a moment she couldn't breathe and couldn't understand why he'd embraced her the way he had, with his front to her back, holding her very still. That was when she realized he held a knife to her throat.

"Don't," the man holding her said to Will.

Will skidded to a stop, his hand still on his pistol at his hip.

"I'm goin' to kill ye," Sergeant McDougal growled.

Erva wasn't too sure if he was threatening her for running off on her own, or the man at her back.

Taking one last look at Will's panicked face, she saw how tormented he was, one of his arms outstretched toward her, as if that could stop the man who threatened her. It was Will's face that gave her the calm she had needed all day. The training came back to her within a blink of the eye. She remembered her drill sergeant holding her exactly like this, but with a rubber knife.

"I-I'm takin' the la.s.s with me as insurance for my life. I'll give her back when I reach my camp. I promise," the man behind her said.

"The h.e.l.l you will," Sergeant McDougal yelled.

"Take me instead," Will said coolly. "I'm a general. You know my imprisonment could afford to have many soldiers we captured today set free, if not all of them. Take me."

The sweet gesture almost made Erva lose her concentration, but she wouldn't let it. Not at a time like this. The man behind her though was considering Will's deal. He loosened his grip around her neck, and she gained the distance she needed, pus.h.i.+ng her head farther away from her abductor's, simultaneously readying one of her hands for the knife. In a split second she flung her head back as hard as she could, feeling the man's nose snap against her. Her vision blurred from the pain, but she caught the hand that held the knife and twisted it downward and away while she stomped on his instep. He instantly gave way with a grunt and began to topple behind her. Easily enough she had his knife, and twirled around as the Continental soldier fell back, holding his nose.

She was trying to think of a retort to yell at the man for ruining what could have been such a romantic moment, when she felt Will capture her and lift her in his arms. He sidestepped quickly away from the Continental soldier on the ground whom Sergeant McDougal had just pounced on.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, releasing the knife to the cobblestone road where it seemed to clatter too loudly.

Will's lips punished hers. "My darling." He kissed her again, a bit longer. "My darling, my beautiful Minerva, G.o.ddess of wisdom and war. I should have known you could have done that. Oh, my darling."

Erva heard something snap and although she wanted to bask in Will's words, his hard kisses, she tore away and stared at Sergeant McDougal as he forced the man who had tried to kidnap her to stand. Eventually he did, but he held one of his arms as blood gushed down his nose.

"I'll...talk to that man later," Will said in a voice Erva didn't recognize, sounding like metal sc.r.a.ping against metal. The way he'd emphasized the word talk made her think he actually would have nothing to say.

"Aye, sir," Sergeant McDougal said, as he gruffly pulled the Continental along by his collar.

"Will," Erva whispered. When Will finally did meet her gaze, she saw how dark his eyes had changed. They looked black blue, and so fierce. She'd gotten to know Will as a man, but until that moment she'd never met the soldier in him. Granted, his tactics seemed calculated and intelligent, like him, but a part of a soldier knows how to kill, and is so unlike any other part of a man-or a woman, as Erva well knew. That part of a soldier is uncivilized, ferocious, and unapologetic for it, and always has to content with the other portions composing the soldier that are apologetic, rational, and loving.

She caressed Will's whiskered cheek, liking how he'd apparently not shaved this morning, but also trying to coax him back to her. His nostrils flared.

"Please," she whispered.

Will had been holding his breath, but against her ribs, she felt him inhale. His jaw line twitched over and over again. Finally, he slid his gaze back to Sergeant McDougal.

"I will talk to the man tomorrow."

The sergeant nodded and said over his shoulder, "Aye, sir."

Then she was alone with Will, holding her so close that she was sure his hands were leaving bruises. But she didn't say anything about her discomfort. She caressed his cheek again.

"I'm sorry."

He met her gaze. The initial relief of being free from her abductor was gone, replaced by worry for the man who held black-blue eyes and looked at her with every plain in his face tense.

"I'm sorry," she repeated.

He swallowed and held her even closer. "I don't think I've ever been more scared in my life."