In the barn of Eaton Hill, Hannah secured the last bag of goods to the side of Anvil’s saddle. The frigid midnight air pinched under her skirts. How grateful she was that they’d stopped, if only for a moment, for without her wool stockings, journeying so far in such cold would have been crippling.
Joseph strode through the open barn doors, urgency in his step. He rounded Anvil and stuffed the remaining knapsack with what he’d gathered from the kitchen. “We must hurry.”
Hannah looked to the darkened house across the yard. “I am ready.”
“Anvil is swift.” Joseph’s lips pulled tight in a sorrowful grin. “We shall not be overtaken.”
“Joseph…I know we haven’t time to speak…” The pale light from the fragment of moon illuminated the plume of her breath. “There is so much I don’t understand. I…”
A heavy breath left him, as if he’d already read the hidden missive in her expression “I know.”
She closed the space between them and rested her head against his chest. “What of the note? Will the soldiers be safe? ’Tis all my fault?
?”
“’Tis not your fault.” His warm embrace enclosed her. “Do not blame yourself.” He rested his cheek against her hair, hands stroking her back. “God will see to that.”
Closing her eyes, Hannah tipped her heart toward heaven, praying that Providence would protect the valiant men-at-arms. With that stone of worry now free, the larger rock of her sorrows toppled upon her. “I didn’t get to say good-bye.” Her chest seized, and she choked on the heated lump in her throat. “I didn’t get to tell him I loved him. Despite everything, I truly did.”
“My darling…”
Joseph’s rich tone shoved aside the boulder that threatened to crush her.
“I spoke with him.”
“You did?” She pulled away and looked up. “When? Tell me.”
“I shall—I give you my word. All you need know now is how desperately he loved you.” Joseph’s gloved finger brushed against her cheek. “He wanted you and me to be happy.”
Closing her eyes, she leaned her forehead against his chest, refusing to give way to the sobs that pressed on her spirit. So why had he done it? After all the years of hate—how had he come to such a change? And to have accepted such an end?
“There is much more to tell, but it shall have to wait.” Joseph kissed the top of her head. “Though I will tell you this.”
He pressed her away, the love in his face enough to carry her beyond the travails that impeded them. “What is it?”
Joseph lowered his chin. “Jacob shall need a mother.”
Jacob. Like a spark to a paper box, the thought was small in its dawning but in seconds burned bright. “Of course he will. I shall do whatever I can—”
“And Ensign…he will need you as well.”
Hannah frowned. “What do you mean?” She had misheard him, surely.
Joseph smoothed his hands down her arms. “He is alive.”
“Alive?” Her once cold limbs jolted with heat. “How can that be?”
“I know little more than you.” Something drew his attention to the house, and he gripped her elbow, leading her closer beside Anvil. “Your father said he spoke with Ensign two nights past at Nathaniel Smith’s home and that he still lived, though Philo seemed to believe Ensign’s condition was grave.”
Oh dear Lord. If her uncle was still alive… “We must go to him.”
“Straight away.” Expression rich with longing, he held her at the waist. In a swift motion he pressed a quick kiss to her mouth, the promise of passion in the tender touch of his lips. “Sandwich awaits.”
Stepping around Anvil, Joseph went to check the saddle one last time. Hannah reached up and prepared to mount but halted when a chill rushed over her skin. A voice…
Chest tight, Hannah spun around, her heart racing. But she could see no one and blinked away her foolish imagining. Her mind played tricks, surely. Yet something kept her looking. ’Twas so real. It was as if her heart had heard something more than her ears.
Perhaps…she shook her head. She was merely tired.