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He plodded toward the street, gripping the handle of his dagger, circling his thumb along the red jewel at its base. A smile bled over his lips. There had been fear in Donaldson’s face. Fear that Paul would kill him. And he would.
Halting his step, he stared down at the cobblestone as the sun baked the red coat on his back. He snarled at the painful truth and moved to the shadow of the building. Leaving for Virginia in the morning would destroy his opportunity to follow through on his vow. If only he had some way to get a message to Barrik. The man could find anyone in a matter of days. He gripped the dagger’s handle tighter. The tantalizing prospect wet his mouth like the scent of sizzling meat, but just as quickly he grimaced. He could send no messenger. He may be a captain, but the soldiers were too loyal to his witless father and could not be trusted with secrecy.
He cursed under his breath and moved from the shadow of the building to the sun-blasted street. There had to be a way to get a message to Barrik. If there was, he had only hours in which to do it. If there wasn’t, the decision he must make was too difficult for his mind to produce.
All the same, he would keep his vow no matter the cost. Donaldson’s days were few in number.
~~~
The foul air drifting up from the wharf seemed a pleasant dream compared to the nightmare of aromas that consumed the underbelly of the ship all those long days across the sea. Anna gripped the bag in her hands, crunching beneath her feet every remaining fear as she stepped from the dock to the bustling streets of New York.
Head high, she strolled beside the other travelers, mindless of the heat that threatened to blister her back and the anxieties that threatened her resolve. A few queer looks from fellow travelers almost made her belly twist. Was it her imagination or did their stares whisper, “He knows you have come.” Several steps forward and the questions she’d attempted to ignore continued to plague. Did her father know? Had his years of paranoia and greed made him follow her as he’d done before? Could she really blend in amongst the people of the colonies, or would the truth betray her?
A hard thump against her leg jolted her and the man whose cart she’d bumped scowled, the spray of words hitting her like rain. “Watch where you’re going! Are you blind?”
She corrected her balance and offered an apologetic smile. “Forgive me, sir.”
He growled at her apology as if it had splattered over his goods. “If you don’t plan to buy then move on.”
Resisting the frown that pulled at her mouth, she nodded and continued on, sidling beside the others as they continued through the crowded street. Would all the people of New York treat her in such a way? Hardly a good omen, but she’d never been one to allow such a thing to buckle her knees.
Far across the miles her father’s voice whispered, the hairs on her neck pricking. Foolish, foolish girl.
The bark of a dog and whinny of a horse knocked her from the fatal thoughts. What would Mother have said? Anna dodged sideways seconds before stepping in a large pile of horse manure. She lifted her skirts an inch and gazed more intently on where she placed her feet. Mother was the one who instilled in her spirit those things that mattered. Faith, kindness, confidence. Then again, ten years of marriage to a man she hadn’t loved, to a man who cared only for her face and the attention she awarded him, had done plenty to etch away those precious parts of her. She stopped and held tighter to the small bag that carried everything she owned. Edwin was gone. Here was a new chance at life. A new land, a new way of thinking.
Closing her eyes, she inhaled. With this blessing, this new-found freedom, she could make her own choices and plan for her future without the dictates of the man who wished to use her for his gain. For the first time in all her six and twenty years, she would discover who she truly was.
She started her feet once more, this time her stride longer, her back straighter. A smile tickled one side of her face. Mother would be proud—nay, she will be. For she watched from heaven. She’d promised she would.
As Anna continued to the center of town the face of her dear brother—his kind, soft eyes, same in shape and color as her own—consumed her mind. Samuel had been here. America had been his last home. It would be hers as well. The mere thought of being where he had been for so long brought strength to her weary limbs.
I shall discover what happened to you, brother. You may depend upon it.
A loud volley of laughter jumped at her from the front of a large two-story building. She turned to the right and inhaled a delighted breath. Three buildings from her, in the center of the street, a crowd of soldiers gathered.
She strode forward, hardly feeling the hard cobblestone beneath her shoes. Surely this was a sign from God. Of course she’d thought of what she might do, who she might question in her attempts to gain the knowledge she sought. But here, most clearly was what she must do. And why hadn’t she thought of it before?
Not far from the crowd, a young soldier, not much older than a boy, turned to her and bowed his head ever so slightly. The others, four in total, hushed and turned to her, nodding in unison.
An older one spoke. “May we be of some assistance, miss?”
She grinned, waiting a beat until she was sure her sudden nerves wouldn’t add a tremor to her voice. “I’m…I’m looking for someone.”
The same soldier spoke again, with a gleam in his dark eyes that wormed an uncomfortable sensation to the pit of her stomach. “And who might that be?”
“My—” she stopped. If she divulged she sought her brother, and perchance her father had followed her, or sent someone else to follow such information could bode ill. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m looking for someone by the name of Captain Samuel Martin.”
Only vacant looks. A few shoulders bobbed. Perhaps one or two heads tilted in thought, but that was all. But of course they knew of him. Hadn’t he been a captain? Did that not mean he had earned such a rank with his bravery and obvious intelligence? Did that not earn him prestige and celebrity?
Sighing, she tilted her head. “He was stationed in Boston last I heard.”
They only stared. Of course she would have gone into Boston directly had not the strains between the colonies and the king closed the harbor.
Good heavens! Was this the treatment she was to expect? She raised her chin and added a notch of force behind her mostly reserved tone. “It is imperative that I speak with him. If you would inform me of someone who may know his location I would be most grateful.”
“The name is familiar…” A tall one in the back inclined his head toward the brick building at the right. “You’ll want to speak with Major Stockton. I believe he was Martin’s superior”
Finally some cordiality. “I thank you, sir.” She bobbed a quick curtsy and strode toward the house—or what looked like a house. Two guards, one at either side of the door, stood rigid with muskets at their sides, white wigs and hats atop heads that peered forward, faces void of expression.
