Sharp bitterness assaulted him. He knew the feeling all too well. And doing that again…nay. He couldn’t. Wouldn’t.
“She is a kind woman,” William said, “and I could not have asked for a better wife.” He stuck Thomas with a look he hoped would drive the conversation into the grave. “I will keep my vows and do all that I can to protect her. That is the end of it.”
Thomas nodded with an understanding slope of the mouth. Not even a hint of recrimination in his eye. William took a deep breath and opened his mouth but Thomas spoke before him. He crossed his arms over his chest and his gaze flitted to the window and back. “What did this man look like?”
“Older. Tall, firm build. Grayish hair.” He straightened in his seat as both hope and horror mixed in his muscles. “Have you seen someone?”
Mouth quirked in a frustrated slant, Thomas shook his head and his posture eased. “I thought perhaps…” He sighed and again looked out the window in the door. “A man was here not ten minutes ago. Our age. Tall, long face, dark voice. He was dressed as if he came from the mountains of the south, but I have my doubts.”
William stilled. “Did he say what he was doing in town?”
“He claimed he planned to join the cause in Boston…”
William stood, straining his heart to keep a regular rhythm. “Anything else?”
Thomas growled and turned back to the press, but instead of preparing the galley as he had before, he removed his apron. “Nay. He said he was passing through. He may stay at Fessenden’s for the night, or not at all, ’tis hard to say. But he was villainous.” His face went slack. “Do you think him a spy? Someone looking for you?”
Nodding, William wiped a hand over his mouth. “Paul Stockton will find me at any cost.” A bitter laugh popped from his chest. “’Tis my turn to be the hunted.”
Thomas’s expression hardened. “If I learned anything from Samuel, it was to never underestimate and never take for granted.”
“Then you are saying I should leave, for my safety and for Anna’s.”
“Nay. Your life is here now. Be cautious, aye. Be prepared.” Resting a hand on William’s shoulder, Thomas stepped forward. “Do not let him drive you from your home. Wait until he comes to you, and when he does, you will drive him back to the place he belongs.”
Paul’s words bit at William’s heels. I will find you.
William met Thomas’s strong st
are. “Then let him come.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Mid-day was the most dangerous time for an exchange.
Autumn light blazed above him through the trees, signaling to all his hiding place. William grunted his anger and tapped his finger against the heavy bag of goods in his hand. Ten days of this new subversive strategy and so far only simple exchanges and deposits without a single impediment. But the past two nights with no one coming to the cove was a portend of ill. So when word reached him early in the morning that the man would come when the sun reached its zenith, William hadn’t been able to contain the growl that rumbled in his throat. Madness. Secrecy was everything and though the cover of darkness didn’t ensure it, ’twas a far better cloak of security than the blazing light of day. Aye, they’d discussed the importance of inconsistency, but such a haphazard execution of their plan was not what he’d meant. And why he couldn’t have simply left the goods in the rock-covered pit, he didn’t know. A powder keg of rage waited for ignition, but he resisted, refusing the lighted spark a chance to ignite an explosion.
William stood at the edge of his property, his farm just a half-mile beyond, praying with the weight of the earth upon his shoulders. Do not let us be seen Lord, I pray thee. Do not let us be seen.
That is, if the man showed up at all. Either he was a coward, lazy, or the soldiers were so thick he couldn’t get through.
He ground his teeth. If that man didn’t appear in the next—
“Fox.”
William straightened at the sound. “Hound.” His tension eased, but only a mite, and the words hissed out. “You are two days late.”
The man, nay the boy neared, his face streaked with sweat. Any frustration William harbored evaporated at the sight of the skinny figure before him. His red hair and thick spray of freckles seemed to match the friendly, fearless spark in his hazel eyes. How old was he? Eleven? Twelve perhaps? This was far too dangerous work for one whose face was yet to need a blade.
The boy nodded, panting as if he’d run for miles. “Aye, I know, sir. The soldiers are thick around Plymouth.”
“Where is your father? Should not he be here?” The question popped from William’s mouth as if the boy had been his relation rather than a stranger.
“He must stay with Mother as her time for the baby has arrived and there’s no doctor or midwife to tend to her.” He straightened. “I am as capable to serve this cause as any man.”
“’Tis true, I can see that.” William inclined his head. “But you could not have run all the way.”
“Not all the way, sir.” The boy pointed deeper into the wood. “I tried to meet as planned these two nights past. The watch has been thick, but I kept making my way here, sir, and I’ve finally made it.” The triumph in the boy’s voice clamped William’s chest, and he studied the freckles that dotted the young patriot’s determined expression. What prompted a parent to send their child on a mission all alone when danger lurked in every shadow? What would possess a mere boy to risk so much for what so many people believed a futile cause?