A Bride for Daniel Page 2

  “Are you a traitor?” she asked slowly, reaching for the gun under the table again, expecting him to move into action, pulling the flintlock on her once again. Alden remained still, his eyes never leaving hers.

  “Truly that depends on your loyalties and where they lie. I’ve already failed to protect my younger brother because I was gone.”

  “And if I answer incorrectly? Will you turn me in?” she whispered, feeling sick as her finger curled around the trigger. Could she shoot him to protect herself?

  “Never,” he vowed. “Family doesn’t turn on each other. We protect one another. I won’t fail Daniel again by letting his wife be hurt.”

  “I believe it’s time for me to close for the day. Would you care to join me for supper?” she asked, feeling an overwhelming relief flow through her at his answer as she released the gun. Moving towards the door, she threw the latch.

  “I think we have a lot to talk about,” Alden said with a smile.

  Hours later, Emma found herself laughing merrily at Alden’s memories. She listened, utterly fascinated, as he told her of Daniel’s childhood. They had been quite the mischief makers together. Daniel would come up with the plan and Alden would enact it. Alden affectionately called him the ‘hidden ringleader’, confessing that he was the one always getting caught, never Daniel.

  They still sat at the table, their bowls of stew empty in front of them. She hadn’t smiled or enjoyed herself like this in so long. There was no obligation, no pressure, and only the camaraderie that family brought – something she’d missed since her brother Samuel had died. She and her brother had been close growing up. This felt like she was talking with him once again. Emma was shocked to hear that Alden was a self-proclaimed soldier and spy in the war. He was fighting for independence from Britain and wanted her help.

  “I need a safe-house to hide while I am traveling abroad. I have a place to hide in New York, Boston, and Pennsylvania – but if I need to run, I would be trusting you with my life and endangering yours.”

  “I have no affection for the British or the taxes they’ve levied on goods. They are slowly destroying all my father built by bleeding my family dry. I cannot maintain the storefront through legal means as it is,” she confessed. “I am selling to the Continental Army already, which is why I have the pistol at the counter.”

  “You’re crafty,” he praised, refilling his tankard and holding it up in a mock toast.

  “Because I am forced to be,” she said tightly. “The idea of hanging for doing something so trivial as helping support my neighbors fight a war that is destroying us all seems like an abomination. As a lucrative business, you shouldn’t be going hungry – yet I was. I was selling what goods we had in stock, but the taxes prevented me from purchasing more. I couldn’t afford to.”

  “I won’t ask you to further endanger yourself, I just ask for a place to hide – perhaps a root cellar nearby that is available or abandoned?”

  “Family protects one another,” she reminded him, using his words. “You will always have a roof and a hot meal waiting, brother, in exchange for warning of impending attacks. I cannot see those around me gunned down again in cold blood. There is no justice in being brought low in the name of the king. If he cared about us, he would have listened instead of punishing the colonies repeatedly.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Will you be staying then? Shall I set up a pallet in the cellar to keep up propriety?”

  “No, I thank you. I am heading to Flushing Bay to meet up with someone – the less you know the better if you are questioned.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Of course,” he said politely, “And thank you for the meal, sister. It was a pleasure to finally meet you. You and my brother will get along famously when he returns home.”

  “If,” she corrected quietly.

  “When,” he amended, holding up his tankard once again and drinking heavily from it before getting to his feet. “I must be off. It’s easier to travel at night so I am not seen.”

  “Let me prepare a few things for you to take with you in case you need a meal. Help yourself to gunpowder or anything else you might need downstairs, Alden.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m certain. We are now family, remember?” she teased, getting to her feet and clearing the small table.

  “Speaking of which, do not trust anyone else coming here that is looking for Daniel,” he warned. “The company we have is worth quite a bit of money. They could possibly be a threat to you since Daniel has not returned that I am aware of. This means that you and I share the company.”

  “Are you a threat to me then?”

  “Never,” he said bluntly and then smiled at her before playfully tapping her on the nose, “But if my brother doesn’t return – I may need your help with the ledgers, sister.”

  October 1781

  Daniel’s ears rang as the cannon beside him slammed backwards from the intensity of the blast that propelled the lead ball out of the ship towards the French in the harbor of Chesapeake Bay. He was so tired of war and numb to this life that had been pressed upon him. Hauling up the lead ball, he shoved it into the cannon’s open mouth and readied himself for another deafening blast. The ship he was on gave a massive shudder and groaned eerily at the sudden impact that shook their teeth. He couldn’t remember the last time he wore dry shoes at this point. The leather of his boots was soaked, salt crusted, and chaffed badly from years of neglect and abuse.

  The warning sounded only seconds before another bone jarring blast rocked him, this time from the cannon that he and George were manning. The boy was about twenty and had been pressed into His Majesty’s service about two years ago. The scared look in his wide eyes had reminded Daniel of himself when he’d first awoken on a ship in the middle of the ocean.

  Truthfully, he’d been lucky that he wasn’t tossed overboard and that he had been able to hide the evidence of his receding illness. The others on ship weren’t as lucky as several others got sick within the following weeks. Apparently typhoid and yellow fever ran rampant throughout the ships, making Daniel feel a little less guilty at being the singular cause of the spread of the disease.

  A massive blast nearby showered shards of wood on the men just seconds before biting cold water began to flow onto the deck below where they stood. It only took seconds before someone cried out what they were all thinking.

  “We’re gonna sink!”

  “George!” Daniel shouted over the chaos that erupted around him. “George! Let’s go!” He grabbed the boy’s arm and yanked him towards the slippery wet wooden stairs that would lead them topside. Pushing upwards, he felt hands shoving him towards the closed doorway that separated them from the upper deck. He felt the ship heave to the side as another cannonball slammed into it. Daniel fell off the stairs and watched in horror as several cannons began to roll across the flooring, knocking people down from the unstoppable inertia that came with the movement.

  “We are going to die down here if we don’t get out!” George cried out, spitting out saltwater that flew into his face from the opening that was bobbing above and below the water line like a bleeding artery. Daniel looked around grimly as he realized that time was growing shorter and shorter by the minute. The hull of the ship was filling quickly and he was pretty sure that the lower levels were already full, because no one was coming up from the ladder below.

  “Let’s go. Mind the cannons if the ship rocks to the other side, George,” Daniel shouted, wading through the now hip deep water desperately. He stopped for only a second at the glimpse of the French ship momentarily in the hole that was torn into the side just seconds before it bobbed under water once again. The massive rush of cold water pushed them against a post that supported the upper decks. Teeth chattering at the suddenness that their bodies were being cooled down, Daniel and George linked arms around it to keep from being swept back away from the opening. If they were sucked into the ship, they’d never escape the vacuum. The ship he
aved again, revealing blue skies.

  “Let’s go!” Daniel screamed, meeting George’s terrified gaze. They were both too young to die here. Propelling himself forward, he hauled himself out of the splintered hole, ignoring the piercing shards of wood in his hands and body as he dragged himself over it.

  “Go! Go! Go!” he urged, screaming against the protesting groans of the ship that had held him captive for years on end. He was finally breaking free and it was as if the ship’s hull that had housed him knew it. The two men dropped down into the waters below only seconds before others splashed down around them.

  “Swim!” Daniel barked out fearfully at the other man whose lips were already turning blue from the temperature of the water. He glanced up at the massive ship rolling in the opposite direction with the swell of the ocean waves. The amount of water in the hull was causing it to roll in an exaggerated manner that was terrifying. If it rolled over on them or if they dallied in the bitterly cold waters, they would never survive.

  “Swim as fast as you can for shore!”

  “What about the French?”

  “If they catch us we are still dead!”

  “If we stay in the water – we are dead!”

  “Then be silent and swim as if our lives depend on it!”

  George nodded and hurriedly began to swim, Daniel following him. He glanced around at the sound of gunfire and saw the other ship was firing into the water, picking them off as they swam away desperately.

  “Dive down and keep swimming,” he ordered George quickly, seeing the fearful look in his eyes that mirrored his own and what was racing through his mind.

  “They are shooting at us.”

  Taking a deep breath, he slipped under the water blindly. Ignoring the way his body cramped from the cold, he kicked as hard as he could to put some distance between him and the massive French warships that were engaged with the British in the harbor. His lungs burning, Daniel surfaced only momentarily to get a glimpse of the coast up ahead and ducked down again. At his next breath, he saw that George was swimming blindly, veering off towards the west.

  Hearing cannon fire behind him, a loud sound echoed like lightning crackling on the ground. Looking around, he saw that the ships were on the horizon and no longer concentrating on the men swimming in the water. The massive mast had split in half, indicating the final gasp of the ship as it was giving way under the watery surface. Stunned, he saw several bodies were floating off in the distance and gave thanks to God that he’d made it off alive.

  “George!” Daniel called out, intending to reunite with the man he’d befriended on the ship and who’d kept him sane when he’d missed his brother on those long nights. Family was everything and it had been so very hard to wonder what had happened to Alden.

  It had been years and he wondered if Alden thought he was dead. Was he still married to Emma Butler by proxy or did she think him dead too? Frowning, it disturbed him to no end to think that the world had moved on without him like he was nothing.

  Kicking vehemently against the water, he headed for shore and saw that George was long gone. His figure was on the shoreline and running for the trees. Good, he thought, George made it out of the water and needed to find shelter to hide.

  No matter, Daniel was intent on finding his uncle and showing him how he’d grown into a man worthy of the Knox name… and then he would take back his father’s business. He also wondered if his beloved brother had also been betrayed and pressed into service for the king. All the questions he had would soon be answered. Revenge and hope beat desperately in his heart at the idea that vengeance would be his someday soon. That singular thought kept him going as he neared the coastline.

  Daniel stood across from the building that he once lived in. He’d been watching it for weeks once he’d finally made it back to Baltimore. Had it been so very long ago that he’d been practically dragged from his deathbed and thrown into a life he’d never expected? Since pulling himself from the ocean, he’d been in hiding.

  Everyone was the enemy apparently and being seen in something that vaguely resembled a British uniform - no matter the condition - was cause for enmity. One of the first things he’d done was to steal regular clothing off of a clothesline. He had to shuck the wet clothing to keep himself from catching fever or dying from the cooler night air. It took time but he acquired arms and procured shelter in a rundown shack he’d come across in the woods. He was stealthily making his way back to his old life and would have his revenge on his uncle when the time was right.

  Watching a man leave the building, Daniel saw that he looked around warily and watched him curiously. When most people left, there was no hesitation to their step.

  This man looked concerned, almost afraid. Was his uncle now dabbling in smuggling or other illegal means? After all - wasn’t being pressed into service a form of kidnapping that was sanctioned by the king?

  He’d been taken against his will – and Daniel was certain that his uncle never expected him to survive the ordeal. To be honest, he wasn’t so sure he would survive himself at some points. Stepping back into the shadows, Daniel settled back and continued to monitor the building, looking for clues or a glimpse of the man who’d betrayed him.

  “Can I help you good sir?” Daniel froze and glanced over his shoulder at the woman standing there watching him warily. He’d thought the building was uninhabited and apparently was quite incorrect. A young dark-haired boy clung to her skirts and made him think of his brother, Alden. Where was he?

  “I was just passing through on my way to collect my bride,” he found himself saying aloud. As soon as the words escaped him, he realized that he needed to do just that. He needed a place to hunker down, come up with a plan, and reach out to his brother – wherever he may be. His last location that he knew of was New York and not too far from Massachusetts where his wife would be.

  “These here parts aren’t safe,” she whispered, looking around warily as she pulled a threadbare shawl around her shoulders tightly. “Good men keep disappearing – just like my own husband.”

  “They aren’t disappearing – they are being sold into service of the King,” Daniel said bitterly, glancing back over to the storefront. “A lot of things are wrong in this part of town nowadays it seems. I would take cover, mistress, and perhaps go visit family to get away if there is a threat to you and your boy.”

  She nodded and backed up into the building once again. He heard the bolt to secure the door as it was slid into place. Pushing himself away from the post he’d been leaning on, Daniel walked with a purpose towards the north. He was going to take the first steps into regaining some semblance of his life again.

  Chapter Three

  October 1781

  Emma was walking from the butcher’s back to her store. The temperatures were bitterly cool in the evenings and she was craving some of the thick hearty stews that her mother used to make when she was young. She’d picked up a small piece of steak to cut up and season, as well as a small bucket of clams that needed to be cleaned. It was extravagant, or felt that way, but the urge to splurge after the last sale she’d made was clear – and she was hungry and wanted fresh chowder.

  She’d been able to arrange for saltpeter to be brought in at a cost that was shockingly low. The saltpeter was necessary for gunpowder and people were willing to pay for it. Everything was done under the table in order to prevent the British from reappearing in town again. No one wanted a repeat of their last appearance.

  Nodding politely, she smiled at several women crossing the street towards the butchers. Apparently it was well known that he’d gotten in some fresh goods recently. The last time she’d bought meat, it had spoiled quite quickly. She didn’t have time to maintain a house, the store front, and tend to animals at the same time. She was barely able to keep up with the small garden beside the house that was oh-so necessary to provide food.

  Glancing up, she saw a dark blond man off in the distance watching her as she crossed the street. Emma turned away
, pulling her cape up to hide her face. She could practically feel his eyes still on her and wondered at the appearance of the stranger.

  Was he looking for her regarding the store in Baltimore that Alden had informed her of during a previous visit? He’d cautioned her to lay low and avoid talking to anyone about it, that it could endanger her. With the opportunity to sell such a large amount of saltpeter, she’d quickly put out word to a few connections in order to get rid of the highly sought-after ingredient used to make gunpowder, efficiently and without raising alarm.

  Hurrying into her shop, she quickly shut the door behind her and threw the iron bolt into place. Rushing into the backroom where the small fireplace sat, she poked at the wood in order to rekindle the flame before putting another log on the fire. She would just hide away and remain inside, feigning illness.

  Sure enough, there was a rap on the leaded glass pane on the front door. Emma’s heart hammered in her chest nervously. She reached for the musket nearby and held it aloft, pointing it downwards to the floor as she stepped forward in the tiny hallway separating the storefront and her kitchen area.

  “Go away, I’ve taken ill. Come again another day,” Emma shouted, knowing that most people would certainly back away from anyone sick with all the rumors of pox, yellow fever, and ague that seemed to be running rampant through folks in town or in the military. She’d heard stories of whole regiments being taken down by illness.

  “I’m looking for Emma Knox.”

  Groaning, she heard the man’s voice and frowned. Was it the same fellow she’d seen? What did he want with her? Hoisting the musket, she held the heavy gun against her body and aimed for the doorway. If he came through, it would be the last thing this stranger ever did.