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“Tell me what?”
The door flung open, and another man entered. Near as tall as Joseph, this next stranger nodded instantly, his kind face softening as he glanced toward Hannah before he aimed a thoughtful scowl on the others. “Well?”
“’Twould seem the British have gotten themselves a foundry.” Nathaniel’s chin dropped before he motioned to Hannah. “An old friend of mine, Miss Hannah Young. Miss Young, Mr. Watson.”
Mr. Watson nodded politely before facing back to Nathaniel. “How came you by this knowledge?”
“Miss Young’s uncle owned a foundry. And ’twould seem the British have taken it—and his life.”
The man’s face flattened. “That is terrible indeed.” He flung a look to Hannah but quickly turned his attention to the men. “Why would you wish to inform me of such a thing?”
Nathaniel canted his head. “I should think ’twas obvious.”
“If you mean to say we take it back, then I am in full agreement.” Joseph folded his arms around his broad chest.
“’Tis quite a risk.” Mr. Watson shifted his stance. “Though I am in agreement as well, we have no way of knowing their numbers, what munitions they have—”
“If we take them by surprise, I predict a fairly easy victory.” The captain’s arms were folded, and he spoke to the ground until the last. “Though ’tis difficult to know their strength, the risk is worth the effort. We need the production of guns more than they.”
To this, Nathaniel shifted his feet and nudged his chin at Joseph. “What say you? Had you thought of such?”
“I had.” A muscle in Joseph’s face flexed as his jaw moved back and forth.
Nathaniel continued his pointed gaze toward Joseph, his volume deepening. “Did he say anything to you? Did he suspect?”
Did who suspect?
Joseph’s gaze darted to Hannah, and she gripped her arms tighter at the glint of darkness in his glance. The emotion he harbored refused to be named, but that hint of foreboding floated on the blue of his gaze like a boat on a storming sea.
“Who are you speaking of?” Mr. Watson stood straighter, his muscled arms thickening as he crossed them. “It appears there is something I do not know.”
Joseph flung a strained look to Hannah, and her already tight shoulders pinched a mite more. She nearly whispered to him to speak the obvious ill, but he turned away when Nathaniel spoke.
“You might as well know. The foundry the British have just taken now belongs to—”
“How many men will we need?” Joseph’s voice boomed, his eyes so strained upon his friend that Hannah believed he might actually have strangled the man with his stare alone.
With a nod, Nathaniel crossed his arms, the look on his face suggesting he understood Joseph’s sudden interruption. “That is difficult to estimate.”
“I shall apprise Knox of this.” Mr. Watson rubbed a hand over his jaw. “He will need to know what we plan.”
Captain Donaldson shook his head. “Without sufficient intelligence you cannot know what awaits you.”
“There cannot be many of them.” Nathaniel shifted his weight over his feet. “Our need outweighs all. The men are desperate for occupation, and this will fill the void.”
Hannah glanced to Joseph, his arms folded and eyes stern, then to the others, who conversed with clipped words and solemn brows. They spoke of the foundry as if it were nothing more than a place—a winnable, impersonal thing. That was her home, her life for ten years. Her future. And here they planned to make battle on the very soil her uncle gave his life upon?
“But you cannot move forward without more knowledge, Nathaniel. You could be walking into a trap.” Captain Donaldson’s volume rose, his hand slicing the air. “We can take it, and we will, but not without first sending a scout.”
“’Tis a risk, but can be done.” Mr. Watson looked to Joseph, then to Nathaniel. “There are many willing to be covert.”
“But there are none who know the foundry.” Hannah’s voice startled even herself as the words seemed to fly from her mouth before her mind fully thought them. “There are few who know the woods and roads around it as well as Ensign and the men who worked there.”
“Are they here…the workers?” the captain asked.
“Aye.” Hannah’s cheeks burned from the gaze Joseph pinned on her, but she feigned the lack of feeling. “But such would be suspect, would it not? A known Patriot returned home—to their very work?”
Nathaniel put his hand to his mouth, his eyebrows lifting as he looked between the men. “’Tis a valid point.”
