The Hour of Dreams

  Before I knew it, they were standing face to face, introducing themselves.

  “Charity, you don’t want to—”

  “Would you calm yourself?” Samuel barked quickly, and then seemed to catch himself. “We’re just talking. May I spend a few moments with this lovely lady?”

  I turned to Charity. “We need to go.”

  “Phoebe, it’s fine,” she said between tight lips.

  “See, it’s fine,” Samuel echoed, standing between us. “Just a few moments. Now run along and settle William there. He could use it.”

  I went to grab for Charity, but she pulled back, stuck her arm in Samuel's, and disappeared down the path. I slowly turned back to see that William had come to within a few feet of me. I jumped in fright.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, backing away slightly.

  Suddenly, I was filled with rage toward William, and with frustration over Charity losing her wits. Whatever the reason, my response sounded brave and assertive.

  “For what?” I challenged. “Having such a wretched comrade, or insulting my virtue?”

  He took another step back. “What does that mean?”

  “You know…since it’s your turn…you get to pick and choose your women in all those towns you pass. Well, I’ll have you know, I’m not interested.”

  His deep brown eyes were blazing a hole through me, so I was entirely grateful when he looked down. After a moment of thought, he looked back up and took a step forward so fast, all my courage went out the window.

  “You overheard us talking?”

  Even though I now found myself to be the one taking a couple of steps back, I verbally stayed my ground. “Yes. I did. Now if you’ll pardon me, I’ll be on my way.”

  I went to turn, but he grabbed hold of my elbow. Even through my layers, I could feel the warmth of his touch. I was so stunned and confused by the sensation that my feet froze.

  “It’s not at all how you think,” he pleaded. I neither replied nor moved, even when he let go. “I just told him that so he would leave you alone. I don’t want that at all.”

  Somehow, hearing him explain that I was wrong seemed even more offensive, and I felt myself shift my weight as reason tried to reach my brain. He must’ve read the disappointment in my face.

  “Well, I do. But…” he stuttered. Something about his discomfort made me soften. “I don’t know,” he continued, “but it’s not like you think.”

  His gaze held a sense of resolve that made me not only believe him, but it seemed to drown out the danger beyond the forest. Only when we heard loud giggling did we turn away, and it was then that my senses returned.

  “I have to go,” I said.

  He nodded, and as I turned to retrieve Charity—and her senses also—he reached for me again. Only this time, he stopped himself.

  I raised my brow, waiting for him to say something. “May I walk you back?” he asked.

  “I’m going to escort Charity back home,” I stated, almost wishing I wasn’t.

  “When will you be back?” he pressed.

  I glanced around, suddenly feeling like the conversation was entirely forbidden, but my words betrayed me. “I have to be back before dinner,” I answered.

  He nodded. “I’ll wait for you here so you’re not returning alone.”

  When a soft smile formed against my will, I nodded and turned quickly.

  With a determined stride, I hurried my way over to Charity and insisted upon returning to her home. Surprisingly, Samuel backed away and nodded.

  “Good day, lady,” he said with a grin. “Your kindness has made my day.”

  He practically skipped away while I pulled Charity by the arm.

  “What were you thinking?”

  “What?” she asked innocently.

  “Coming here. Talking to him.”

  “I told you. I just wanted to see for myself. And it was so worth it.”

  Watching her beam was making me think I’d lost my friend somewhere.

  “Oh, stop worrying, Phoebe. They’re just boys. Samuel’s only nineteen.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You were talking to him?”

  “Of course I was. What did you think we were doing?”

  By this time, her house was in view, which brought more comfort to me than usual, except that her father was standing at full attention on the front porch.

  “Don’t you dare tell him I saw anyone,” she whispered.

  We walked the rest of the way in silence while I tried to mentally relieve the tension between us. Somehow I managed to act normal as she passed by his scrutinizing glare.

  I waved goodbye and shuddered as I thought about the encounter. Nothing was at all normal about either of those soldiers, or their passing through our town. But one thing was certain. We were both a bit smitten, even if only one of us was admitting it.

  Chapter 8

  LOSS OF INNOCENCE

  Walking back, I couldn’t help but wonder whether William would be actually waiting. Part of me hoped not. I rounded the same bend where Samuel had made his appearance, and sure enough William was there, sitting against a tree, throwing rocks. He still wore his white trousers, but this time he wasn’t wearing his red coat, which made him appear younger.

  Once he noticed my approach, he quickly stood, but made no move toward me. My body felt tense, but relieved at the same time. The feeling was so foreign to me that it brought on a heavy sense of apprehension. Suddenly I felt my pace slow, and my gaze found a safe place on the ground as I walked. But just as I was about to pass by, he stepped toward the middle of the path.

  My gaze immediately found its way up again, hoping to determine his intentions. As if reading my mind, he spoke, his deep yet soft voice vibrating through the air and into my head.

  “I just want to escort you,” he murmured, turning so we were now walking side by side. He kept a respectful distance, and forever seemed to pass with no words spoken at all.

  “You didn’t have to wait for me,” I finally offered.

  “I know,” he said without glancing my way. “But I wanted to.”

  “Why?”

  “Let’s just say these are large woods, and I’d rather you not have any more encounters with, you know…”

  The reference to Samuel brought me barreling back to reality. “Why was he out here anyway? Was he following me?”

  “I think he was. But he follows every lady he sees. You could say he bores easily and is always looking for trouble.”

  The thought made me shudder. It was then I realized that nothing about being beside William felt uneasy at all. In fact, it made me entirely curious about the tall soldier, shy but confident, walking next to me.

  “How old are you?” I asked

  He looked at me with his soft smile still lingering. “Twenty.”

  Suddenly I became nervous again. All that experience he’d had traveling the ocean and the Americas on foot. Women? I wondered if he had experience with them too, and an odd sense of jealousy crept up my spine. I looked away in hopes of shielding my thoughts, when something else occurred to me.

  “Do you have a special someone back home?”

  “No.” I kept my head down, but his next reply pulled my gaze back to his. “I wouldn’t be out here with you like this if I did.”

  My lips were surely parted, dumbfounded, as I tried to think of something to say.

  Sure, looking at him was pure pleasure, and the closeness of his shoulder as we walked felt undoubtedly electric. But my father didn’t raise a fool, even if I was blushing. There was a war brewing, and even though he didn’t know it, we were entirely on opposite sides.

  After one more long glance to remember his perfect face, I turned my gaze forward and didn’t release it from our destination. Nor did I speak again, all the way home.

  Dinner was on the table when I got home. A fire was raging, and mother appeared to be in good spirits. Confirmation that the soldiers would be leaving tomorrow was certainly cause for that.

&
nbsp; Surprisingly, Samuel was quiet but cordial through dinner and slipped out shortly after. William made his way up to their room, and, as I passed it on the way to mine, I saw that his door was ajar. Lying there, he was reading a book. Upon hearing my passing, he glanced my way, but I kept walking.

  That night there was no conversation to listen to for a long time. Only my own recollections and lingering sensations of being alone with William in the woods.

  I could’ve pictured him for hours, but some time, late into the night, my thoughts were interrupted by footsteps making their way from below. They were heavy and invasive and could have only belonged to Samuel. Once they passed my room, the door next to us creaked open.

  “Have you been drinking?” I heard William ask.

  “Yes I have,” Samuel slurred.

  “You have no shame, do you?”

  “No. I do not.”

  “And to think you serve the king.”

  “I serve myself. I’m only in this God-awful army so I can please myself with this great land. Heaven knows it’s not for the pay.”

  “Is that all you think about—yourself?”

  “Not everyone is like you, William. Honored to serve. Honored to be right all the time.”

  “Honor is something you should try having. Now, I’m going to bed, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll sleep it off. We march tomorrow.”

  Samuel slurred something else I couldn’t quite understand and then plopped onto the bed. Trying to drown out irritating thoughts of him, my focus settled back on William. Of our walk, and then of his words about leaving the next day. Strange, mixed feelings swirled around my stomach. I tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable, and eventually gave way to sleep.

  A short time later, I heard a knocking at our front door. My eyes peeled open and my ears perked toward the door. I couldn’t tell who it was, but I heard men’s voices. They sounded alarmed and panicked.

  Unable to resist, I put on my night coat and crept toward the stairs. From the top, I could see my father hurriedly putting on his raincoat. Beyond his shoulder was the terrified face of Charity’s father.

  Needles pricked at my chest from the inside as I rushed down the stairs. My parents turned my way, and, by the looks on their faces, I could tell something was horribly wrong.

  “What is it?” I asked, my gaze bouncing around the room.

  Charity’s father’s nostrils flared, and my mother stood before me. “Charity is missing,” she murmured.

  “Missing? But I just saw her today.”

  My father turned to my mother. “We have to go. We’ll find her,” he said, glancing at me. “Do not leave the house.”

  My limbs felt like butter, but my nerves were as hard as ice. “I don’t understand. She was home.”

  My mother gave me a shake. “They’ll find her. Now, I want you to go straight to your room and do not come out. Do you hear?”

  “But—”

  “Phoebe, do as I say.”

  I nodded without even feeling it and made my way up the stairs like a zombie. Each step felt like an eternity as I tried to think. What was happening? Where in heaven’s name could she be?

  And then it hit me. And just as it did, I reached the top of the narrow steps and ended up square to a chest. I started to back away, but the faint glow of the fire from below revealed William. Even still, I stiffened.

  We stood, watching each other for a moment, frozen in time. When my gaze bounced from his to the door where he’d come from, he more than knew what I was thinking.

  He shook his head.

  “If—” I stuttered.

  He shook his head again and took a step toward me.

  “Don’t,” I said shakily, feeling entirely chilled.

  “They’ll find her,” he said.

  I leaned against the wall, afraid. “What if they don’t? What if—”

  “He didn’t,” he said knowingly, confirming that he knew my thoughts. And not only knew them, but had them too.

  “I swear,” I started, but I felt myself slide down the wall. He reached for me and turned me toward my room.

  Inside, I restlessly paced back and forth and eventually gathered myself and dressed. Downstairs, my mother was watching a faint dawn through the window as I approached. I stood beside her, unable to form the right words. After a moment she turned and gave me a long, worry-filled hug. Our silent embrace was interrupted by Samuel stomping down the stairs with William following.

  “Shall we have breakfast before we report for duty, then?”

  My mother was forming an answer when we heard the racket of horses’ hooves outside. We both ran to the door, hoping for good news. Instead, we saw a wagon racing toward the town, with Charity’s father in the back, hovering over a blanket.

  Following closely on horseback was my own father, who dismounted and ran straight for our front door. Before my mother and I could understand what was happening, Samuel quickly stood and grabbed his gun, which had a newly attached bayonet on the end. He stood with the long, sharp end of the weapon facing the ceiling, but certainly at the ready.

  When my father burst through the door, his gaze quickly settled on Samuel.

  “How could you?!”

  “Now, settle yourself,” Samuel said, gripping the weapon. “I am entirely innocent.”

  “Then how did she come to be beaten and violated and left alone in the forest!” he spat, charging after Samuel. Tackling him into the wall, my father managed to thrust his powerful fist into Samuel’s side before being pushed off.

  My father quickly gathered himself and set his sights on Samuel again, only this time Samuel lifted his musket. My mother screamed, and William suddenly moved from the periphery and lunged at my father.

  Before I could fathom what was happening, Samuel was pulling the long, shiny bayonet from William’s stomach. I fell to my knees beside him, trembling.

  “You fools!” Samuel shouted.

  “What have you done?” my mother pleaded, kneeling beside me. My mouth was frozen as we watched William reach for his side. His hand came away covered with blood, and then he looked at me with eyes full of confusion.

  I instinctively reached for his shirt and began to urgently rip open the buttons, my hands shaky, not caring who was watching. By then a small crowd had gathered in our doorway and chatter erupted.

  Once the shirt was pulled away, it was clear that there was a two-inch puncture wound that went all the way through his lower side. Blood spilled out in a trail, only stopping at the waist of his trousers.

  “Clear the way!” a voice commanded, startling me even more.

  I gave William one more concerned gaze before my mother pulled me up to make way for their captain. “What’s going on here?”

  My father stepped forward, pointing after Samuel. “Your soldier violated a young girl last night and just stabbed his comrade. That’s what’s going on here.”

  “That is a lie,” Samuel retorted. “I did no such thing. This man attacked me, and William tried to break it up. It was an accident.”

  “You fool,” his captain said through gritted teeth. After a momentary assessment of the situation, he ordered Samuel to grab his things.

  “That’s it?” my father asked. “He needs to pay for what he did!”

  “We have no time for trials. We are on the march.” He looked down at William. “Get him to a doctor immediately. He’ll have to stay behind. It looks like it’s a clean wound. If he can avoid infection, he should recover. We’ll gather him on our march back. Hopefully he’ll be well enough to travel by then.”

  By that point, Samuel had grabbed his belongings from upstairs, and had hurried out the door.

  “You can’t do this,” my father said, standing tall.

  “It’s already done,” the captain said before stomping out.

  In the midst of it all, William tried to stand, but quickly keeled over. I lunged for his arm. He put his weight on me, and I immediately looked to my father for help. Fru
strated, he rushed over and helped me guide William outside. No one else offered assistance as we walked him to a waiting wagon. I made a motion to hoist myself up, but my father held me still.

  “Please,” I said, not even understanding why.

  “No. Not with him.”

  The crowd was still gathered, and everything about the moment felt forbidden, so I didn’t want to argue, but I was still worried. I thought of the only alternative that would at least make sure William got the care he deserved.

  “Will you go with him?” I asked.

  “No, I will not.”

  “But he saved your life. Please. It’s only right.”

  He looked at me for a long moment, then at the retreating army, and then to William, who was now losing color.

  Father's nostrils flared and he exhaled strongly. “All right. I will, but you stay here with your mother and brother, and do not leave the house until I return. And keep a rifle with you at all times. Let no one, and I mean no one, into our home again.”

  The urgency in his voice made me nod immediately, and with one last hard stare, he hopped into the wagon and pulled away, with William alone in the back.

  Chapter 9

  THE AGREEMENT

  Calling out in frustration, a firm hand steadied my shoulders, but I jerked away, tossing and turning. “No,” I mumbled.

  “Sophie. It’s okay. You’re dreaming again.”

  I peeled my eyes open, trying to adjust to my surroundings. It was dark, but the bed felt soft and the sheets warm and gratifyingly familiar. It was my own bed. My real bed.

  I quickly turned to find Wes lying alert beside me. At least I thought it was him. I had to check to be sure. “Wes?” I asked, peering at him sideways in the dim moonlight.

  “Uh, yes. Who else would it be?”

  “Um.” I started to explain and then realized the absurdity of the moment. “No one.”

  “Are you okay?” he asked, sitting up on one elbow.

  I focused on his familiar face in the moonlight. The proportions of his features still struck me as the most perfect I’d ever seen. Without a doubt, the same perfect face in my dream. It was strangely exciting and frightening at the same time. There was no way I could make sense of it on my own.