The Raider (Montgomery/Taggert 9)

“Sam likes peppermint, not me,” Nate said, his jaw set in a line that looked remarkably like his sister’s.

“And what does Nathaniel like?” Sayer asked as he began to knot lengths of heavy string onto a brass ring.

“My own dory so I can catch and sell fish.”

Sayer smiled. “All right. And we’ll name it The Raider. Now hold this end. Sam, go look in that box and see what you find.”

Nathaniel and Sayer smiled at each other.

* * *

Jessica wiped away tears with the back of her sleeve and started walking through the woods toward the Taggert house.

She gasped when John Pitman stepped out of the trees. Usually, he was perfectly dressed, never a button undone, as if he wanted to show the Americans how to dress. But tonight he was dishevelled, his coat gone, his waistcoat unbuttoned. And his eyes were wild and he smelled of rum.

“Mistress Jessica,” he said in a slurred voice, “the only other person to turn him down.”

Jessica had never been too close to the customs officer and didn’t want to be now. She gave him a weak smile and tried to get by him. The last thing she wanted was to be alone wit

h this drunken man who was used to having his own way.

“Ah, Mistress Jessica,” Pitman said softly, blocking her way and looking at the ties on her shirt. “Have you dried by now? Has his hated memory gone from you?”

She took a step backward. “You came out here and got drunk because of this glory-seeking villain, this Raider?” She was incredulous.

He moved closer to her. “Can’t you see the hour? What would a man with a warm and pretty wife waiting at home be doing in the woods with a bottle at this hour? I come here every night.” He moved so he was almost touching her, then took the string that tied her blouse shut in his hand. “I come here and dream of you Mistress Jessica, of Jessica with the saucy hips, of Jessica—”

With eyes wide, Jess pushed him and began to run. He was so drunk that it took him a moment to regain his balance and by then Jessica was gone. She ran through the woods, staying off any path, until she reached the Taggert house and slammed the door. She dropped the oak board that bolted the door.

Eleanor came into the room wearing her nightgown and cap. “Where have you been?” she asked. “We were worried about you.”

When Jessica didn’t answer, Eleanor put her arms around her sister. “You’ve had a rough day, haven’t you? I heard about what happened earlier.”

Jess didn’t want to remember the Raider, or the wash tub, or drunken John Pitman’s hands on her. “Go back to bed,” she said to Eleanor. “I’m going to wash some of the filth off of me then I’ll be there.”

Eleanor nodded sleepily and padded back to bed.

After a sponge bath throughout which she cursed all men everywhere, Jess climbed the ladder to the loft. All the Taggerts were in one bed, the taller ones heading north, the smaller ones with their heads pointing south. She tucked the quilt around them more securely and kissed the nearest heads.

Nathaniel lifted himself on one elbow. “Why were you running?”

The child never missed anything. “I may tell you tomorrow. Go to sleep now.”

Nate lay back down between two brothers. “I’ll find him for you, Jess. I’ll find the Raider and you can hang him.”

Jess smiled at the thought. “I’ll use Mrs. Coffin’s clothesline for the noose. Now go to sleep.” She was still smiling as she climbed into bed with baby Samuel and Eleanor.

* * *

Jessica slammed her shovel into the rocky beach, grabbed a clam, then threw it at the basket.

“They aren’t your enemy, you know.”

She looked up to see Alexander Montgomery standing there, the yellow silk of his coat flashing in the sunlight.

“Have you come to laugh at me, too?” She glared at him with great hostility. “This morning wasn’t enough for all of you? You have to sneak up on me so you can privately laugh at me?” She pulled another clam from its hiding place in the sand. She’d done her best to survive the morning but it hadn’t been easy. As soon as she walked into the common room at the Montgomery house, everyone had doubled over with laughter. The men were a storehouse of wash day jokes, with Mr. Coffin laughing the loudest.

A sleepy-looking Alexander had come into the room and they’d all rushed to tell him of the fabulous exploits of this courageous hero, this Raider. According to the townsmen, the Raider was extremely tall (over six feet), handsome (“he certainly made little Abigail Wentworth swoon”) and an excellent swordsman. Jessica could, of course, have kept her mouth shut, but she couldn’t resist pointing out the fact that the Raider had never so much as drawn his sword, much less demonstrated his skill with it. That had returned their attention to her. They had said she didn’t appreciate the fact that this man was risking his life to help others.