So Pure a Heart (Daughters of His Kingdom 4)

He offered a shallow nod. “Aye, sir.”

Swinging the door wide, Stockton exited before speaking over his shoulder. “I will discover which men can assist you in your work, Mr. Young. Oh, and tell your cousin not to worry over supper. I shall see her in the morning.”

The way his mouth quirked at the last few words made Joseph’s stomach coil, but he smiled to cover the grimace that shot to his face. “That I will, sir.” Joseph followed them out. “I should like to have a look at the foundry before dark so I may be sure I have the supplies needed to begin work in the morning.”

“Aye, excellent.” Stockton waited as Greene barked orders for one of the remaining men to bring his horse around.

Joseph stopped in the center of the yard between the house and the foundry, noting the few remaining Redcoats. They had better not be lingering for much longer. He coated his voice in indifference. “Will your men be going with you?”

“There is no need for them to stay here when camp is only two miles distant. They will work while I am here—arrive early, leave late.” He frowned as his horse was led to him, as if he’d been waiting far too long. Mounting, he pulled the reins to the side. “Be sure you’ve checked well the supplies. If we need anything, we must hasten to acquire it, for we must begin immediately.” Tapping hard at the animal’s flanks, Stockton rode the way Joseph and Hannah had just come, with Greene and the remaining Redcoats following behind.

The biting cold nipped at Joseph’s face as he turned toward the hill. There, Hannah knelt on the ground, her hand on the dark mound of soil, her head bowed. Did she weep? If she did, she was too far to be heard. His legs urged him forward, to be at her side and give her the comfort he’d yet been unable, nay, too cowardly to give. If he allowed himself too close…nay, he couldn’t even if he wished to. She wouldn’t want him near.

The urgency pooling in his muscles became too much, and he was forced to move to ease the tension. Her grief was deep, and if indeed she wept— He stopped as Hannah rose. Hugging her arms around her chest she stepped back before she began the short trek down the hill. Had she seen him?

Pressed on either side, Joseph couldn’t move. The need to go to her, to be assured of her well-being, warred with the need to maintain a distance that would keep his heart from deeper wounds.

He stared as she neared, the cold air painting red circles on her cheekbones, a strand of gold hair trailing beside her ear as she walked. Were those tears? Blast it. He stepped forward, then halted when she stopped and looked up. Not three yards away, and still he could see the evidence of grief on her face. The urge to wipe the streaks from her skin made his fingers ache.

Opening his mouth, Joseph prepared to speak, but the crowd of thoughts jammed in his throat, and he was forced to close his teeth, offering only a weak smile.

In a hurried motion she dabbed at her eyes before glancing around the yard. “Have they gone?”

Her voice was fragile, as if the emotions she just bore still clung to her.

Joseph nodded, not allowing himself a step closer no matter how his body willed it. “They will return sometime after dark.” He looked behind, then back to her. “They will not be here for supper, so you are relieved of duty for the evening it would seem.”

A hint of a smile graced her mouth at one side, and he sighed out a smile of his own, grateful the bit of jest lifted a mite of her load.

He motioned to the side. “It seems God has looked down on us in mercy.”

“Oh?” She crossed her arms and rubbed her hands up and down. “How is that?”

Joseph twisted to look behind, making sure they were truly alone before he bared the fortunate news. Even still, he lowered his tone. “Major Stockton has asked that I take charge of an order for the production of gun barrels for the king’s army.”

“What?” Hannah’s large green eyes widened. “That is good fortune indeed.”

“Aye.” The spark of surprised joy in her countenance rained on him like tiny orange flares. “So it would seem our quest has the full blessing of heaven.”

A sigh left her parted mouth, which bowed in a slight smile. “I can scarce believe it.”

“I find myself hesitant, but we are in such a precarious spot, I can hardly decline. Though this is a boon, ’tis also more dangerous. For if we are ever suspected…”

Hannah’s mouth shut, and that dimple appeared as she held her lips tight, but the expression vanished like her white breath on the air. “We will not be. We shall do the very thing Ensign would have wanted.” She turned back to him. “We shall do what must be done.”

“I’m so sorry, Hannah.” Unbidden, the words he’d not had the chance to speak spilled from him. “Your uncle was a good man. I admired him very much. For his character as well as his work.”

She offered a pained smile. “He shall be greatly missed.” An untold number of emotions fought in her pained expression, and the driving need to pull her near and fit her head beneath his chin—to whisper all would be well and that he would keep her safe—surged blood to h

is unyielding limbs.

A quick shake of the head freed him from the suffocating captivity, and he took a step backward. “I shall be inside shortly.”

“Of course.” She began a slow walk to the house, her eyes still on him, before she hurried inside and closed the door behind her.

Alone in the yard, the silence of the winter air upbraided him as he stared at the path she’d taken. The portend of ill should either of them be discovered was almost too much to endure. He would forever upbraid himself for allowing her to come. There was no way of keeping her clear of the dangers that lurked within their very home.

A grunt lurched from him, and he bent inwardly to the truth that socked him square in the gut. ’Twas not the danger of his enemy he despised most, but that of a pair of green eyes that lured him like a rare and precious gem.