“We were just discussing a future frolic hosted by General Washington and his officers,” Mae told her, warming her hands around her chocolate cup. “I’ve never attended any function in Morristown.”
“Arnold Tavern has a large ballroom on the second floor,” Jamessaid. “Some would say this isn’t the time for dancing, but I think otherwise.”
Captain Sperry cleared his throat. “We’ve seen so much misery that any mirth is most welcome.”
“Speaking of that, I need to confer with your commander.” Aaron turned to General Harlow. “Washington said I should speak with your Rifle Corps soon since they’re among the first to be quarantined in camp. I also have questions about the smallpox inoculation you had in Quebec.”
“At your convenience.”
“I have surgeries scheduled for tomorrow with the doctors, but after that...”
The general nodded. “I can ride out with you to camp day after tomorrow then.”
five
Don’t fire until you see the whites of their eyes!
William Prescott, Battle of Bunker Hill
The next morning dawned clement if bitterly cold. Wearing her beloved Franklin hat, Mae ignored her sister’s chiding as she saddled Orion.
“What’s come over you?” Arms akimbo, Coralie stood in the stable’s open doorway. “Where’s Adam? He always saddles Orion for you.”
“He’s away getting wood.” Mae adjusted the girth, not wanting to make a mockery of her next words. “I’m perfectly capable of helping myself.”
Coralie took a frosted breath. “Ever since James returned with our lodgers you seem a different person.”
“I’m simply interested in the outside world and those who people it.”
“Onein particular,” Coralie replied, her disapproval plain. “And something tells me your sudden urge to go riding is all about that.”
Mae stepped onto a mounting block to lift herself to the saddle. “Please hold Orion’s head still.”
Coralie did as she bade, albeit reluctantly. Once seated, Mae put a foot on the stirrup and a knee over the pommel.
“Well, I must say you cut a fine figure in Mother’s remade riding habit despite that ridiculous fur hat,” Coralie said. “I don’t need to remind you your jaunt will be cold and dangerously slippery. And you may well come down with a horrid cold like me.” She shook her head in disgust. “I shan’t rest till you return.”
“I’m quite warm and I’ll be careful,” Mae told her in the tone of an older, wiser sister. “You mustn’t fret. Life is beset with difficulties. Worrying only worsens them.”
Mae pressed Orion’s warm sides and left the stable. If she didn’t hurry she’d lose sight of James and General Harlow altogether. She took a back lane and caught up with the men at the edge of the village before they disappeared into a wall of woods.
She knew the deer trail they took, worn down over countless years, by heart. Soon they traversed the foothills where snow clung to dense stands of evergreens and barren oaks and elms. January’s end was always bleak, though today’s cannonball clouds kept the temperatures from plummeting further.
James and the general rode ahead of her a quarter mile or so, unaware of her following, or so she thought. She slowed as Orion picked his way across a stream that burbled faintly beneath a skim of ice. For a moment she was so focused on the forest floor she failed to look ahead, until a voice cut through the cold and brought her chin up.
“Miss Bohannon.”
Found out.
Astride his handsome horse, General Harlow faced her. “Do you often ride in the dead of winter in risky conditions?”
“I’m curious about the winter encampment,” she confessed. “And ’tis safer to follow you and James than venture out by myself.”
“Your brother has gone ahead to deliver a message to headquarters.” He motioned her forward. “I’ll show you where troops are cutting trees to build huts south of Morristown.”
“Thank you.” Relieved, she prodded Orion on.
He eyed her specially made saddle for riding aside. “You’re an able horsewoman.”
