“I prefer astride, but that would be—”
“The scandal of Chatham.”
“Not fitting for a pastor’s daughter, nay.” She flushed so hotly her ears warmed. “Father always kept horses, and we learned to ride young.”
She kept pace with him, wondering his chestnut gelding’s name. James had mentioned what an excellent horseman General Harlow was, and now she saw it firsthand. But in truth, he would make a weathered nag look good. She’d heard some horses were battle-trained by standing near cannon fire. Many officers had their mounts shot from under them. A travesty she tried not to dwell on.
“Can you outrun the enemy?” he asked, his breath pluming in the bitter air.
“British patrols, you mean?”
“I’m thinking more of thieves and vagabonds. Marauding murderous soldiers and citizens like the Pine Banditti of Monmouth County.”
“An unlikely concern, given I have an officer escort.” She darted another look at him. “Though I hope I’m not keeping you from your duties.”
“Nay, but I’m about to go hunting as rations need rounding out.”
“Well, your clothing shortage is soon to ebb, at least.”
His attention was on her again, as intently as when they’d first broached the subject in the parlor. He clearly cared for his fellow soldiers and their well-being. Not all officers did.
“We’re gathering to sew at my sister-in-law’s this afternoon. Our only point of contention is what to call ourselves.” She smiled, still mulling the fanciful names suggested. “Red, White, and Sew? Needle Rebels?”
He chuckled. “You’ll be branded angels once you deliver any goods.”
He led her to the top of a ridge overlooking Lowantica Valley, an exhilarating climb that left her slightly winded if only because of his company. She’d not been far from the village in so long it felt especially thrilling. Up so high, the whole world seemed to lie at their feet. To her astonishment the valley floor held hundreds of soldiers, perhaps a few thousand, moving about makeshift dwellings, both log huts and tents. Smoke from countless fires wafted upward, hazing the view and scattering ash.
Were her midnight visitors among them? She’d not stopped thinking about them, the young woman especially. Were they here?
“A beautiful valley like this seems made for an encampment, though our New Jersey winters are bitter,” she said. She spied a parade ground for drilling and numerous sheds for horses that had hauled cannon. Even a commissary south of the huts and a makeshift hospital.
“A third here in the valley are ill or unfit for service but should be on their feet come spring,” he told her. “We’ve commandeered your church in Chatham as well as Morristown for the worst of the suffering.”
Her heart went out to them in such dire conditions, and she didn’t miss the graveyard marked with crosses in the distance. If only she was an able nurse like Hanna. The least she could do was sew.
“I won’t keep you any longer.” Her gaze traveled from the encampment to his rifle secured in a leather holder. “My sister will be wondering about me too.”
“Since you know the area well, where would you recommend I hunt?”
She gestured north. “Follow the Passaic as it bends and you’ll find a big meadow where deer and elk flock.”
“After I return you home, aye.”
“No need.” She fisted her riding whip. “’Tis broad daylight and I can fend for myself.”
“Mayhap. But I don’t want to take any chances and have to fend for my supper.”
She laughed, reluctant to admit her kitchen skills were lacking. “Mrs. Hurst deserves any praise.”
“So I heard.” He smiled, that rare smile that eased the lines in his lean face and turned him more handsome—and she more smitten.
Mercy, what’s befallen me?
She, the sensible older sister, who rarely let a man turn her head. She refused to look at him again as they turned back, just bade him a ladylike goodbye at the edge of Chatham while counting the hours till evening.
When he’d make another impression on her soft-as-wax heart.
“Mercy, Mae!” A relieved Hanna met her at the private entrance to her home behind the apothecary shop. “Coralie said you’d gone out, and I feared you’d miss our first gathering completely.”
