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Her dainty throat bobbed, and she glanced up, red rimming her eyes. “I want to do something. I must. Somehow.”
Was it the sorrow in her voice or her determination that stalled him? Both, likely. Unable to move, Joseph allowed his eyes to trail over her. Here they stood, speaking as if they were no more than acquaintances, no more than two souls striving for a common cause. Hannah. The wilderness of unspoken hurts stretched for miles between them, yet he could reach out and touch her cheek, tuck that curl behind her ear. Here she stood, as real and alive as he had ever seen her. Though so much time had passed, it almost seemed a dream, beautiful and wrenching. All he wished to speak wrestled with what he should. Of course she could not be allowed to do what she willed. Such a thing could very likely take her life. She must be made to understand that.
Willing himself to tear open the sack of protests that weighed heavy in his arms, he stepped forward, mouth open and ready to speak, but ’twas Nathaniel’s voice that cut the air between them.
“Joseph.”
Both of them looked up to see their friend a polite distance away on the other side of the horses.
Joseph answered. “Aye?”
Nathaniel nodded to Hannah. “Forgive me for interrupting, but I should like to speak with Joseph alone if I may.”
She offered a smile in reply before flashing a tight-mouthed expression to Joseph. “Of course.”
Stepping sideways, Nathaniel motioned back the way he’d come. “If you are willing, I would be grateful if you would return to the tent and take some broth. Your strength cannot yet be recovered in full, I am sure.”
“Thank you, Doctor. I believe you are right.” After another quick look to Joseph, she rounded the animal and plodded back toward camp just as Nathaniel neared Joseph.
“You know…” Nathaniel glanced in Hannah’s direction but spoke to Joseph. “She may have a point in what she proposes.”
“What?” The searing audacity of such a statement nearly melted the snow beneath his shoes. “What can you possibly mean?”
“I mean she could be right—that she could make a good spy.”
“Not two moments ago you were as much against it as I.” A hard laugh burst from Joseph’s chest and echoed through the grove behind him. “You have gone daft.”
The usual brevity in Nathaniel’s nature never surfaced. He only stared, a slight lift to one brow and twist to his head.
’Twas Joseph now who balked. “You cannot be serious.”
“We are in desperate need of intelligence, Joseph. And though the thought of placing her at risk is beyond comprehension, it is a brilliant stratagem.”
A slug to the gut would have taken him by less surprise. Nathaniel would actually approve of this? “Thomas and Henry agree with you then.” He prayed the statement wouldn’t be verified.
“They were the ones who persuaded me.”
A rough grunt raked up Joseph’s throat, and he stepped toward the trees, hoping the motion would ease the sudden rage that burned his limbs. “You will enable her foolishness.” He spun back around. “Surely they cannot be ignorant of the fact that she could be killed.”
“Of course they are not, which is why…” He stopped. Amusement flashed in his eyes before earnest resolve curtained the mirth. “Which is why we have devised a plan.”
“Oh!” Joseph feigned pleasure at the thought, his voice bright. “You have devised a plan?” He cocked his
hip, the theatrics gone. “I have learned to be wary of that glint in your eye.”
“She wishes to go, and truthfully, we cannot stop her. But we can insist she have someone accompany her.”
At this, Nathaniel’s smile grew slightly, and Joseph’s stomach clenched.
Ha! Truly, his friend had lost his senses. A barrage of protests hurled across the battlefield of his mind, but the fight was too violent to allow any thought to make way to his voice.
He marched for the trees once more, hearing Nathaniel speak behind him. “’Tis the only thing that makes sense.”
Joseph jerked to a halt and pivoted back around. “It does not make sense.” He choked the words free, still unable to speak as fully as he wished. “I will not go along with it.”
“I’ve never seen anyone fight and shoot as well as you.” Nathaniel paused, expression cinching. “I’ve never seen anyone bluff the way you can. ’Twas as if you were trained for this, Joseph.”
The unvoiced message in Nathaniel’s words ground like a bootheel in flesh. “Do not try to flatter me. Cyprian’s treatment hardened me in my youth, made me fight for myself both mentally and physically, aye.” Frustration steamed. “I may have learned to hide my emotions well, but that doesn’t mean I am ready for this kind of covert action—and neither is Hannah.”
