“Then we must move quickly.”
“Aye.” Nathaniel continued to eye the far-away jug of cider on his dresser, but ignored the need when such matters required discussion. The hot summer air continued to rush through the window. He glanced at Thomas, and kept his jaw solid. “We will begin tomorrow, as I have both you and I set for that night’s watch.”
Thomas stared, mouth taut, brow wrinkled. “It will soon be discovered.”
“Eventually. But if we remind the guards to keep the barrels untouched for a few days, allowing us enough time to remove it, ‘twill appear from the outside that nothing has changed until another attempt is made to take it.” Nathaniel forced out a coarse breath. “We must move quickly before anyone begins to question, and we must locate a place to hide the powder before we remove it. After it is done, we may focus on the task of discovering who has betrayed us.”
A knock on the back door silenced the conversation. When it sounded again the gentle tap pounded against Nathaniel’s heart, but he flicked away the ridiculous, budding hope. It would not be Kitty. She may have treated his wounds, but after their encounter at the pond, any chance of her seeking him out was doubtful.
The knock came once more followed by the creak of the door opening. Thomas stood. His mouth split into a massive grin as he pushed from his position in the chair. “I wonder who that would be?”
Thomas’s tone of jest made Nathaniel fire back, lest his previous thoughts had somehow made it into his expression. “I’m certain ‘tis one of my many female admirers, come to bring me baskets of goods, with wishes for my quick return to health.”
Thomas chuckled. “I would not doubt it.” He disappeared down the stairs.
Nathaniel praised the heaven-sent solitude. He threw back the blankets and jumped out of bed. A pair of hushed voices conversed below and he made quick work of the privacy, trying not to allow worry over the whispers to escalate. Who had come? Why did they whisper? Was there another raid on the powder already? Gads! He almost went down in only his shirt and banyan, but stopped.
He yanked a clean pair of breeches and a fresh linen shirt from his chest of drawers and slipped them on, determined to be downstairs before Thomas found him out of bed. Once clothed, complete with stockings and shoes, he examined his reflection in the mirror and tried to focus on the wounds around his eyes and jaw, but all he could think of was a particular pair of blue-green eyes and full red lips that he prayed waited below stairs.
A female voice drifted up the stairway and his stomach floated.
Gathering his hair behind his head with a ribbon, Nathaniel started downstairs and stopped with a jerk when Eliza and Thomas spun to greet him, immediately hushing their conversation. Stamping-out the disappointment from his face he replaced it with a wide smile.
“Eliza. This is a pleasant surprise.” He offered a small bow. “I was just telling your good husband how I would much prefer a feminine face to look upon and here you are.”
Eliza’s typically bright smile didn’t appear as it usually did when he teased her. She didn’t quite meet his gaze and quickly turned once more to Thomas, lips tight.
Nathaniel’s brow dipped. “Something is wrong.” Then his assumptions had been correct. They had been whispering ill news.
Eliza’s forced smile was too weak to shadow the concern lingering in her eyes. “Nothing is wrong.”
‘Twas a lie. The urge to insist she explain her trouble died in his throat. He had no right to pry into their personal affairs. If this concerned him in any way they would have made it clear—whether medical or regarding the powder—and since they hadn’t, whatever concerned Thomas and Eliza, related to them alone.
“We must be going.” Eliza turned to the door then stopped and spoke over her shoulder. “I am pleased to see you have recovered so quickly, Nathaniel. Our prayers have truly been answered.” She exited through the door after giving a quick nod to her husband.
Thomas tapped Nathaniel’s shoulder, face grim, then followed behind his wife without a word.
“Thomas.” Nathaniel tugged on his friend’s jacket to stop him, fighting the impulse to press the unspoken issue that so obviously plagued them. He studied Thomas’s worried expression, straining to glean any hidden message in his friend’s face, but none could be found. He dropped his hand from Thomas’s arm, trying to pump a bit of brevity into his voice. “I shall be over tonight, if you’re agreeable. We must make ready to act on our plans for the munitions.”
Thomas looked after Eliza who had already reached the road. “Uh... come tomorrow. ” He turned back to Nathanie
l and offered a wan smile. “Give yourself another day of rest. I shall return this evening and we can discuss it then.”
Thomas then sprinted after Eliza. Once at her side, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she leaned against him before they both hurried home as if fire nipped at their heels.
What could bother them so? Was her condition the cause of such distress? Nathaniel watched until they disappeared around the tree-lined road. An unpleasant niggling in his gut refused to abate. If they still acted strange when next he saw them, he’d press the matter.
Nathaniel closed the door, trying to shut out the foolish disappointment that threatened to rot the bloom in his chest. Kitty hadn’t come to see him. He slumped in his favorite chair by the desk and rubbed his temples, eyes closed. ‘Twas as it should be. Besides that, the knowledge that she could never, would never leave the Tory beliefs, made the decision to forget her that much easier.
And yet...
He stroked the stiches on his head. He could no longer allow his heart to rein over his mind. ‘Twasn’t fair to him, and certainly not to Kitty. Best to leave the boyish attractions behind and refocus his attentions on the things of liberty and freedom. Things that mattered most to him.
Does she not love her Savior more than life?
God’s quiet voice came into his mind like a cool breeze across a hot, lonely dessert. Nathaniel stalled. Such a question. Of what did that matter? Nathaniel looked at the short stack of books in front of him as God’s question pierced his spirit once more.
Does she not love her Savior more than life?