Liberty Calling

Chapter 38

We'd ridden for what must have been hours, and the night was growing darker by the minute. Seth was forced to slow the horse, for we could hardly see the road before us, and we would likely run off the road, much less find Lieutenant Alcock's campsite. The slower gait of the mare allowed us to speak a little more, for we were not so jolted around, and the wind did not plug up our ears.

My lips had grown so cold I found it difficult to speak. Even still, I tried my best, for heaven only knew how much longer I would be with Seth before he had to return to this ranks. "Seth," I muttered, shifting a bit to move in closer behind him.

"Hm?"

"I was unable to write to you of this, for fear that our letters were being intercepted and read. But James...he was arrested, and detained for weeks. He was hurt...well he was tortured so horribly that he could hardly rise from his bed for days after his return."

Seth stiffened a bit beneath my arms, and I laid my head against his back. "Why on earth?"

"They thought him to be a spy. Things have grown terribly tense in New York. There was an execution of four men just a few days past...I was so scared that you would be among them. We can hardly move without fear of being accused of espionage."

Seth remained silent for a short time, and I wished I could see his face. "The men have been equally tense. I don't think anyone expected the continentals to fight back as much as they have. They certainly didn't expect any victories on the side of the patriots. Most of my men came to the colonies believing they would return within six months at the very most. And now, I'm not so sure this war will have ended by this time next year. They're tired and desperate, and the feeling reaches all the way up to the King."

"It's been almost four years since Lexington," I muttered. "How much longer can the people stand to fight?"

"You know that answer better than most." And he was right. The patriots would fight until they were met with death or liberty. And a part of me knew I would do so as well, in the ways that I could. But I was growing weary of it. Weary of the death. Of the pain and loss. Of the fear. There were children walking and speaking and learning to read who were born within the time of war, and who knew how much older they would grow before this all ended. "Who's to say this won't go on for another four years? Revolution is either a very short business or a terribly long one."

I must have been thinking for a long while, my cheek pressed against Seth's back, for my eyes began to droop and I fought against the exhaustion that pulled me towards sleep. Seth took in a sharp little breath that made my head bob, and said, "I've received a letter from my mother."

That certainly made me sit taller. "You have? When?"

"Just two days ago. I've no idea how she knew where to send the letter, but even still it made its way to me. It's been years since I last heard from them."

He fell silent, and I wondered what he was thinking. I knew so little of his parents, and I did not fully understand why they no longer spoke. But the few time we had spoken of them, it was clear that it was very difficult for him. "And was it good news?"

"It was. Parts of it, anyway. She writes of my cousins, and all their marriages and children." He paused and then took another sharp breath in. "My father has died."

"Oh, Seth..." My chest grew tight, and I wrapped my arms a bit tighter around his waist. "I am so sorry."

He nodded once, and cleared his throat before speaking again. "He died during the spring. He had the winter fever, and it never seemed to leave his lungs. My mother now lives with her sister, Jane. I...she's lost two of her children and now her husband to illness. I am all she has left, though I hesitate to even call myself her son for the way I've abandoned her. My Aunt Jane is a kind soul, and of course, she would care for my mother till the day she died but...I feel as though it is my duty. Emmeline...I want to write, and offer to bring her to America. To house her with us. Or at least to get her a little cottage in New York and care for her. But I will do nothing if it is not what you wish as well. You will be my wife and I have no intention of implying a burden upon you without your approval."