Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

E arly October, 1777

The Ogeechee limes had ripened by the river, the pignut hickory nuts in the pinewoods, and black-eyed Susans nodded by the Old Post Road when Jack McMullan’s crew dragged the first yellow pine to the site Edmond and Cyrus had cleared for the store. Tabitha became accustomed to the daily ring of axes through the trees—the sound of her future taking shape. Edmond joined Cyrus every hour he could spare from the fort, but the men there were in sore need of supervision, as unauthorized leaves and desertions mounted with inactivity.

At the end of the last week of October, Edmond rode out to tell her to expect a houseful of guests. His Grant kin were coming for the raising of their new house and store. Freya and Meg had been delighted when Edmond and Tabitha visited the month prior for the reading of their banns. Their minister had agreed to perform the ceremony at Fort Howe at the end of October, and the women had purchased some golden silk fabric from a local merchant that they were making into Tabitha’s wedding dress. Once upon a time, yellow had been her signature color. Now she could wear it again with happiness and hope.

For quite some time, she had feared repercussions for spurning Julian’s advances, but she had not seen or heard from him or his father. Perhaps Hugh had learned of his son’s inappropriate behavior as well as news of Tabitha’s engagement and, in light of the Patriot support in the area, encouraged Julian to relinquish his fantasies. She could only hope that paying Hugh at the end of the year would dispense with her obligation to both men forever.

Focusing on the cabin raising, Tabitha and Dulcie had baked for two solid days—corn pudding, cornbread, mincemeat pies, and apple tansy. The day before, they roasted root vegetables and cracked and smoked nuts. They filled their biggest pot with hasty pudding and diced nuts and figs to sprinkle on top the following day. The Grants arrived and were housed at the cabin and some of the men at the fort. Early the next morning, Cyrus put a pig on the spit in the yard, and the scent of roasting pork made every mouth within a mile water. Around noon, the women set out on the path with the pies to check the building progress and sustain the men.

“Ah, I can almost forget there is a war on.” Edmond’s mother took a deep breath. While the humidity had fallen with the retreat of summer, the sun still split the yellowing leaves with persistent warmth. “While I am sad the McIntoshes had to go to Virginia to aid George’s defense, I am glad they will be fightin’ there with General Washington and not here in Georgia. Perhaps we will have peace a while.”

“At least long enough for the wedding.” And a few weeks after, so that Tabitha might feel rightly married. She flushed at the notion.

“I just do not understand why Edmond’s superiors did not take your warning more seriously.” Dulcie hefted a large jug of cider onto her other hip.

Tabitha sighed. She could have done without the reminder that the Loyalists were likely planning a massive invasion. “Edmond wrote to Savannah with the information, but apparently, when they checked into the Floridian who was at Jackson’s Bluff, no one knew anyone by that name.”

“He must have used an alias.” Aunt Meg shooed a buzzing pest away from her basket. “But maybe the navy will be alerted, at least.”

Tabitha shrugged. “Perhaps. As for Mr. Culpepper, the man from South Carolina, I did not actually hear him commit to any particulars. Any dates or locations they could follow up on.”

“But why will headquarters not send more men, at least? Especially with how many have been deserting their post?” Dulcie’s face twisted into a frown. They all slept lightly of a night, startling at any unexpected sound.

“It seems the frontier is only important to them when the British are overrunning it.” Tabitha grimaced and laced her arm through Freya’s, jerking her chin toward the clearing ahead. Shouts and the chopping of axes signaled the men were hard at work. “I hope they are far enough along for you to see the space where you might stay.”

“Oh, me dear.” Edmond’s mother squeezed her hand. “I dinna want to intrude on your newly wedded bliss.”

“Nonsense. We want you to come live with us. That is, if you will not get too lonely out here in the country.” Tabitha smiled at Margaret. “I know your brother’s family has been a great comfort to you.”

Margaret smiled back. “You can both come visit anytime ye please. And as often as ye please.”

“That we will, though I willna get lonely with me new daughter-in-law at hand—and her dear friend, Dulcie.” Freya reached back to touch the servant’s sleeve. Her inclusive manner warmed Tabitha’s heart. This was what family should be like. Freya turned her attention back to Tabitha. “Have ye heard from yer parents and sister? Will they make it to the weddin’?”

“I have not heard back yet.” Tabitha pressed her lips together. She had written to her family to invite them, but would her father even allow her mother to come? Tabitha’s marriage to a Patriot lieutenant from the merchant class and their plans to make a life together on the frontier flew in the face of all he had expected from her. But she would not allow his disapproval to dampen her joy. “I can only pray my mother and sister will attend.”

“Yes, we will pray.” Freya squeezed her arm. During their visit in September, Tabitha had explained about the rift with her father and been met with nothing but understanding. If anyone understood about broken families, Freya Lassiter did. “And perhaps I will join ye here come spring.”

Tabitha’s murmur of acceptance died in her throat when they stepped into the clearing and she beheld the store. Not only did all four walls rise from the stacked-stone footers, but the interior walls were finished as well. And Edmond and his uncle Ian were hammering the shingles Cyrus and Edmond had cut over the past month onto the roof. Only the milled floorboards remained piled to one side.

“Oh, my goodness.” Tabitha laid her hand over her heart. “I did not expect it to go up so fast. And ’tis so big.”

Dulcie flashed her a grin. “Grander than River’s Bend.”

“I could not agree more,” Tabitha said. “Because ’tis ours.” They planned that Dulcie and Cyrus would help out at the store for extra wages. The income would give all of them a better life. Tabitha barely resisted the urge to caper about in a circle like a gamboling lamb, but when Edmond caught sight of her and waved, she did wave back most heartily. She cupped her mouth and called out, “Be careful!”

The way he swung down from the top of the tall structure made her heart stutter. So did the way his shirt clung to his sweaty chest and back, every line and bulging muscle visible without his waistcoat as he approached. He fairly stole her breath even though he only kissed her cheek.

“Mother.” He kissed her forehead as well, then he leaned closer to the small basket Freya bore. “What is in there?” Flicking back the napkin, he made a face. “Apples? Where is that meat we have been smelling all morning?”

“You have to wait for tonight.” Tabitha laughed. “But do not worry…”

“Dinna fash.” Freya winked at her.

Tabitha grinned back and repeated the unique phrase. “Dinna fash. We brought you mincemeat pies also. But first, how about a tour?” She peered past him toward the building which was quickly draining of hungry men.

Edmond bowed. “Nothing would give me more pleasure. Well…almost nothing.” His teasing smirk, hinting of unknown pleasures to come, made her hot from head to toe. Before she could go up in flames, he extended his arm to his mother.

Freya set her basket on the ground and took his elbow, eyes glimmering with anticipation.

Edmond waved before him. “Come, ladies, see your future home.”

Tabitha followed them to the log structure with an eagerness she could scarce contain, but as Edmond and his mother disappeared in the shadow of the roof, a cloud blocked the sun, and a breeze blew through the forest. The leaves rustled with a sibilant whisper, as if…as if something warned her. Of what?

She rubbed her arms and shook off the sensation. She was being silly. All of the dreams she’d once given up on were about to come true.

Mid-October 1777

T he tinge of wood smoke on the evening air hinted of a cozy winter ahead as Edmond forded the Altamaha on his mount. Water dampened his breeches above his boots, but he urged Maximus through the current. Tabitha would be so excited to learn about the supplier for the store he had located on his trip into Darien.

Only two more weeks, and they would be man and wife. She would need to remain in the dogtrot cabin with Dulcie and Cyrus until Edmond mustered out of the army, but he could visit often, especially during quieter times. And the living quarters at the store would be furnished to the point that they could spend the first few nights after the wedding there.

After he’d lost Evangeline, Edmond had never thought he would find love again. But Tabitha’s maturity, strength, and determination had inspired his admiration and trust. With her by his side, all the pain of the past would be canceled out.

As they cleared the south shore and came up the bank shedding water, Edmond sniffed in an attempt to detect the scent of roasting meat. What might Dulcie and Tabitha be cooking tonight? He always anticipated the hearty fare and the fellowship he and Tabitha enjoyed with the other couple. But a glimpse of flames through the trees ahead sliced horror through him. This was no hearth fire he smelled. The store was burning!

He kneed Maximus, and they shot forward—to a scene he could scarce believe. Flames licked up at all four corners of the structure they had just finished chinking before Edmond went to Darien. Instinct urged him to ride for help at the cabin, but a movement caught his eye—a man running across the yard toward a horse tethered at the far tree line.

“Hey!” Edmond rode after him, but the man wasn’t looking back or stopping. When Maximus drew near enough, Edmond slid his feet free of the stirrups and launched from the stallion’s back onto the man’s. With an umph , they tumbled in the dirt. After scrambling to his feet, Edmond seized the man by the collar of his fine coat. “Get up!”

The miscreant stumbled and again attempted to flee.

Edmond whirled him around and aimed an undercut at his jaw. The man grunted as his teeth clacked together and his head snapped back. His hat sailed to the ground. “What—” Edmond’s demand for an explanation died on his lips as he got a good look at the trespasser’s face. “Jackson.”

It had been two years since he had seen the man. Two years since he’d come home for his university’s autumn break to find Julien calling on Evangeline in his absence and confronted him. The surprise on the dandy’s face had been the same then as it was now. And both times, Edmond had frozen in shock as well, learning that an enemy had encroached on what he held sacred.

Evangeline. Tabitha. His future.

“You…” Words failed him.

“Nice to see you again, too, Lassiter.” Julian rubbed his jaw and somehow managed to grin. He tipped his head toward the store. “Best get to it. Though ’tis too far from the river to put out a fire, even if you had buckets.” Indeed, the increasing crackle of the flames underscored the truth.

Edmond could only whisper one word. “Why?”

“A wedding present…for you and your Patriot hussy.” Julian had the gall to turn his back and start walking away.

Oh, no, he did not. Not this time. This was the man to blame for the deaths of his father and fiancée and the shame and ruination of him and his mother. For bullying, then assaulting Tabitha.

With a growl building in his chest, Edmond tackled him. They rolled, a tangle of arms and legs and flying fists. Julian got in a crushing blow to Edmond’s ribs and a bruiser to his left jaw, but the white-hot rage that consumed Edmond made a blur of everything. Pain. Shouts. Someone calling his name. The spit and lick of the fire. And the satisfying grunts of his opponent when his blows landed.

Julian’s fist rammed into Edmond’s eye. Lightning bolted through his head, and stars exploded. Julian managed to pull himself halfway upright.

Still reeling, Edmond scrambled up in time to bring his knee up between the man’s legs. Julian huffed and doubled over.

“That was for Tabitha.” Edmond circled him, blinking hard, his chest heaving. “You thought you would ruin me a second time? You are the one who will be ruined. You will come with me to the fort to be brought up on charges.”

“Never.” Julian gasped for breath, glancing up from beneath the strands of dark hair that fell over his face. “You know she was coming to see me…the night she died.” He wheezed, then chuckled.

“You lie.” Edmond’s vision narrowed.

A woman’s figure silhouetted against the burning building drew closer. “Edmond?”

He couldn’t focus past Julian’s words. Edmond had never understood why Evangeline had been riding by herself outside Savannah when the accident happened. But she would never do anything so foolish as attempt to ride all the way to Jackson’s Bluff alone.

“You left her,” Julian said. “She had no choice. But that gave her the courage to do what she had always wanted…come to me.” When he grinned, his split lip gave his expression an almost garish quality. “With my child.”

Rage flooded Edmond in a red frenzy. He roared and rushed Julian again, pummeling him with his fists.

Lacking a soldier’s stamina, Julian staggered and fell under the blows, attempting to cover his head and upper body.

“Edmond! Stop!” Hands pulled at his back and shoulders. “You will kill him.”

Tabitha?

The terror in her voice broke the vise grip of hatred from his mind. From his kneeling position, he turned. There wasn’t only terror in her voice. It was on her face too. She did not just fear the results of him taking Julian’s punishment into his own hands. She was afraid…of him .

The shock of that kept him frozen even when a scraping and scrabbling told him Julian was escaping. By the time Edmond broke with Tabitha’s stricken gaze to look, Julian was hobbling to his horse.

A hand on his reins, he turned back to them. “You will pay for this. Both of you.”

Before Edmond could come to his feet, Julian managed to pull himself onto his stallion. Slumping in the saddle, he turned his mount’s head south—away from Fort Howe—and loped down the darkening road.

Shouts signaled the arrival of men from the fort. They had ferried over in the boat, expecting to help put out a fire. Edmond’s shoulders sagged. Without horses, the men could not pursue Julian in time. They joined Dulcie and Cyrus with buckets, but the building was engulfed in flames. There was no way they could put the fire out in time. And no way Edmond could erase the expression on Tabitha’s face when he attempted to reach for her.

She shrugged away. “You never told me your fiancée had chosen Julian. Was that why you left?”

Edmond still panted for breath. He hung his head. He hurt all over but nowhere as much as his heart. “I knew he had turned her head. I never thought he had gotten in her bed.”

“Is that what this has all been about, after all?” She swung her arm out. “Revenge? Showing Julian you could get me instead of him?”

“Tabitha, no.” Again, he tried to reach for her, but she slapped his hand back.

“Go. I don’t want to see you. And I cannot marry you. I do not even know you.” She pivoted and ran toward the crowd, to Dulcie’s arms, leaving Edmond to close his eyes to the raging inferno that had devoured his dreams.