Every Rose Has a Thorn (The Patriot Romance story)

Chapter 1

October 14, 1776

"Damn," The young girl bit her lip as she pricked her finger on the needle, she brought her index to her lips and sucked on the blood, "That hurt." She looked up to see James Wilkins walking in, a bright smile on his face.

"Same thing as always Mr. Wilkins?" She asked with a smile, her old babysitter looked down at her and nodded, as she got up to go get his order.

"Clara! Grab some flour from the pantry!" She heard her father's thick Irish accent call out from the kitchen of the bakery. Clara stops her sewing of a blanket and gets up, straightening her skirt.

"Yes father," She calls back and heads into the basement, turning around and waving to James, she searches around for the old burlap sack that was labeled in dark red "flour". The young woman grunts as she picks up the heavy bag and hauls it back up the stairs and to her father, who was putting the dough in the oven.

"James Wilkins is here," She says, looking up at her old man. Solomon White walked to the front of the shop with a basket and took care of his frequent customer.

"Perfect, and set that right dere." He pointed to the table, she nodded and did as he asked, lifting the sack and wiping her hands on her apron. A knock on the door came, her father gave her a nod and she headed to the front to spot an old friend of her fathers'.

"Mr. Martin!" She smiles and clasps her hands together, "What do you need today?"

"I just need to speak with your father briefly about something," He gives her a small smile back, "I'm assuming he's in the back?"

"You are assuming correctly," Clara nods and sets out the baked goods on the display in the front. He heads to the back, she goes quiet and tries to listen to what they were saying. She couldn't exactly make out much so she grumbled and went back to her work, humming a tune as she swept the floor. After a few minutes, Mr. Martin and her father entered the room and he gave Clara a smile, she noticed he was holding a rifle. Her blood ran cold and her face went a very visible pale.

"Father-"

"I'll be back soon, before nightfall. I promise my little hummingbird." He says and they both head out on horses, along with some other men. She notices her hands start shaking lightly with fear, the fear that her father might not return home.

The girl continues taking care of the bakery, sewing blankets, and sheets and taking turns baking and finishing sweets. The doors open to reveal Gabriel Martin, he smiles and she gives him a friendly wave.

"What can I help you with Gabriel?" She asks, going to the back. He nods and walks to the counter, "Same thing as always?"

"Clara, I'm going to enlist." She pauses and turns to her friend of so many years.

"What?"

"I want to fight with the army," He says with a sad expression on his face, "I leave tomorrow," He grabs the small basket from the girl's hands, "I'll be okay, I'll be back soon." He pats her red hair and smiles before leaving the shop.

"He said he would be okay, he'll be okay." She thought to herself, trying to keep an optimistic point of view, although it was hard. Her father never spoke of what was going on, but with all the rumors going on at church and the letters he's been getting nearly all the time, she knew exactly what was going on in their life, even if her knowledge was little to none. She cleaned up and took out the bread that was in the oven and let it cool off. She waited quietly and patiently for her father to return, she went outside of the bakery and felt the cool air brush against her skin, creating goosebumps. She locked up the shop and unhitched her White Mustang horse, and mounted it.