He awoke in a dark room, his leg throbbing, his toes tingling. A soft fragrance reminded him of home.
“Esther?”
He’d seen her. Just a moment ago. She spoke to him, kissed his forehead and cheek.
“Hamilton, you’re awake.” Aunt Mary’s pretty face appeared over his.
“How long have I been asleep?” He tried to sit up, but his arms failed him.
“In and out for nearly three weeks. Many times we feared losing you.”
“We? Esther? Is she here? I am certain I heard her voice. She was speaking to a man.”
“The surgeon?”
“Perhaps. But he seemed rather large. As if life itself could not contain him. I cannot recall. Perhaps I was dreaming.”
“Of course, that’s it, you had a dream.”
“But was she here?”
“Sh-she escorted me here, y-yes. Then her father came for her. She departed with him the same day.” Aunt Mary aided him upright, fluffed the pillows and linens, then pressed a cold cloth to his head. “You must be famished.”
“A bit, yes, feeling weak. Rather out of body.” He gazed about the room. “Am I not home?”
“We’re at the home of Dr. Nelson off Green River Road. He saved your life.”
“Saved my life?” He tipped his head back, trying to remember. “The battle... what became of the battle?” A blurry image of Lieutenant Twimball swung across his mind. His saber... the cold mud... the light... his pa and ma.
“The patriots were victorious. Colonel Tarleton and his dragoons were routed. We captured over eight hundred British regulars.”
“They were not murdered?”
“No, indeed. Taken prisoner.”
He nodded. “As it should be.”
Aunt Mary tied back the curtain and inched up the window sash. “There. How’s about a touch of fresh air? Here’s a newspaper, if you like, from Charles Town with an account of Hannah’s Cowpens. I saved it for you. Now, let me fetch some broth. Oh, my boy, it’s good to have you among the living.”
“I saw Pa and Ma,” he said, eyes closed, trying to recall every detail. “In a dream. It was so lovely.”
“They must have been praying for you. Did you see your uncle Laurence?”
“I did not. Yet, another man...” Perhaps an angel. Some heavenly being. “Like the one in my room. Extraordinary in size. There was no end to him.”
Aunt Mary patted his arm. “The soul does odd things when the body had been distressed. Don’t trouble yourself remembering. All things in good time. Just rest.” Aunt Mary moved to the door. “I’ll fetch your broth.”
“Did Esther say she would return? Did she leave a letter?” In the back of his mind, he saw a gathering of redcoats in Sir Michael’s foyer. Esther wore a red gown with a green ribbon in her hair. She asked him to leave. But why? Something in his hand. He was angry with her father.
“A letter? Nay, not that I found.”
“My letter.” He pressed against the thin mattress, struggling to sit up. “My coat? Where is my coat?”
“I told you, she left no letter.”
“Nay, my letter. To her. Where are my things?”
Aunt Mary went to the wardrobe, removing his tattered and stained coat. “Nothing here, Hamilton. Perhaps you also dreamed of this letter.”
