She stopped among the trees where the skirmishers hid. Typically, the park stationed silhouetted cutouts of militiamen down on one knee, rifles raised. But they’d been stored for the movie.
“Can you imagine what kind of nation we’ll be in two hundred years? I doubt Hamilton realized the magnitude. He was a backwoods man from the South Carolina colony. Probably wanted nothing more than a successful farm, the chance to feed and clothe his wife and children.” Jesse dropped to one knee, raised an imaginary rifle, and fired.
Chloe knelt beside him. “And where would Esther be?”
“Now, that I do not know.” Jesse sat on the dewy grass and rested his arms on his raised knees. “Some wives followed their husbands to the battleground, but I doubt Esther would’ve. A single woman traveling with a single man would have been scandalous.”
“Maybe she was here?” Chloe reached through his arms to tap his heart.
“Maybe.” He fumbled with his words as he stood. “I’m not sure he even knew her when he fought here.”
Hands in her coat pockets, Chloe walked toward the original Battle of Cowpens monument. “Do you think you’ll ever know the whole story?”
“Unless Aunt Pat uncovers it, probably not.”
“Yet through the power of movie magic, two people are getting the love story they never had.”
“Yep. Esther and Hamilton.”
“Or Jesse and Loxley.” Chloe leaned to see his face.
“What is it you want me to say, Chloe? That I exercised my guilt while writing this screenplay?”
“Did you?”
“No, I wrote a story. About something that interested me.”
“You never once thought of Loxley?”
He jumped up. “Yes, I thought of her. Are you happy?”
“Are you?”
Jesse peered down at her. “Did you minor in psychology at UCLA?” He sat next to her again. “There were moments while writing I stopped to cry, to tell her I was sorry. My stupidity stole any chance she had at happiness. I partnered with that riptide to end her life.” His voice rose and fell with each rush of the wind.
Chloe picked at the grass by her feet. “Now I’m sorry... That wasn’t fair.” She’d pushed. Like always. Wanting more from the men who fascinated her than they were willing to give. “Forget it. I mean it, Jesse. I shouldn’t pry.”
She got up and walked toward the slope where General Morgan and the Continentals had waited in ambush for the British. The elevation changed so gradually she barely noticed it. But when she looked back, the road had disappeared.
In a few moments, Jesse walked into view. “It’s okay. Friends help friends come to terms with their life.”
“Turn around.” Chloe shielded her eyes from the sun as she surveyed the field. “The road is gone. This is like looking back at the past. You can’t see it. At least you can’t see it clearly.”
“But you know it’s there. You remember. But the view is obscured.” Jesse glanced behind them. “General Morgan was a genius. That’s how he defeated Cornwallis at Cowpens.”
“Did you ever think your aunt sent you Hamilton’s letter to remind you he moved on and loved again?”
“It’s crossed my mind.”
“But not your heart.” Chloe wandered a few feet away, trapped between the present conversation and the story of the past. “I’m sorry Loxley died, Jesse. I don’t want to minimize what you wentthrough. But maybe, for your sake, you shouldn’t maximize it either.”
“I’m sorry your heartbreak over Haden Stuart got posted all over the web.”
“I should’ve known better.” She caught the faintest scent of his skin, and the fragrance watered the brittle places of her heart.
“One thing, I’ve learned my lesson. Next time I propose to a girl—”
“Next time?” She smiled up at him, pleased with the tenor of their conversation. “Don’t look now, Jesse Gates, but I think you took one step toward moving on.”
