Mae felt a sudden, almost dizzying bewilderment. She had no idea which direction they were headed. Here the woods were so dense the sun was blocked, blanketing them in shadows.
When Mae realized they’d missed a familiar trail, she backtracked. “This is the way to the farm—we’re almost there.”
Lucy slowed and looked back at her. “Nay.”
“But isn’t the farm our refuge?”
Lucy kept moving, but Mae went the other direction. She’d not leave the valley until she’d seen Joanna and family. Who knew when she’d have that chance again?
“By heaven, you’re a stubborn woman,” Lucy called in sharp exasperation, riding after her. “You’ll see for yourself why we can’t go there. ’Tis better you remember it as it was.”
Was?
At the head of the valley they halted. Mae looked out on whathad been green and fertile, fenced and thriving. Now there was nothing but scorched earth, a blackened reminder of Jon and Joanna’s life and labors. No barn. No outbuildings. Just a gutted house, the walls still standing and open to the sky, the chimneys tumbled. The wheat and corn were no more. The fenced garden with its showy flowers and delicious vegetables was a memory. Only an acrid stench remained.
Mae gave a little cry. “Did the British and Indians—”
“General Washington gave orders all was to be burnt up and down the valley lest it fall into enemy hands.”
Stunned, she looked from Lucy to the ruins. “Where are Joanna and the children? Did they move from here safely?”
“Only your brother Colonel Bohannon knows. I’ve not heard anything other than Washington’s grim order.”
They returned to the trail they’d been taking, Mae numb to all that was enfolding around her. Lucy’s speed showed confidence, but Mae became more addled. Her internal compass was broken. If not for Lucy she’d be utterly lost. Had Rhys known that? But did Lucy know where she was going? As they continued, Mae’s doubts swelled.
What were they but two small souls and a dog in the wilds of a war-torn territory that was as vast as it was terrifying?
When a wall of darkness forced them to dismount, they found shelter at the mouth of a shallow cave. Free of the saddlebag, Petey did a wild dance through fallen leaves and lapped up water at a trickle of creek. Supper was jerked meat and parched corn, the fare of soldiers. Mae gave half of hers to the little dog.
Too weary to talk, she still managed the burning question that had bedeviled her all day. “What did you promise General Harlow?”
“He told me to take you south.” Lucy leaned back against the rock wall, Petey in her soiled, aproned lap. “To the Shenandoah.”
“If the fort was threatened, you mean.”
“Aye. He gave me two pistols and his money belt.” Setting Petey aside, Lucy dug in a saddlebag for what Mae assumed were the weapons. She took out Mae’s mother’s shawl instead. “’Tis freshly laundered. I want you to have it back.”
For a moment Mae felt choked. The woven butter-colored garment brought back a hundred beloved if bittersweet memories. Admittedly, she needed the comfort more than relief from the cold, and somehow Lucy knew. Mae took the shawl and draped it around her shoulders, never more thankful for the wool’s warmth. “Did he tell you to take me south before he found out about my sister’s spying or after?”
Somehow that mattered. Mae prayed it was after.
“Before,” Lucy said. “But he never countermanded the order, so it still stands.”
Countermanded.Such a complicated word in light of their predicament. “I don’t know that it still stands, Lucy. He was in a fury with me when I last saw him, remember.”
“He’s not an unreasonable man. I misdoubt he’s still angry weeks after.”
So she’d been counting. Marking the time away from her husband too. Mae sighed, worn down by the possibility Rhys didn’t want her, that he might divorce her. That she’d return home in disgrace to Chatham with their child.
“He wants you safe. Sound. On his land and in that handsome house he built.”
Mae pulled the shawl tighter around her. “How are we going to make it so far?”
“Clear to Virginia?” Lucy looked undaunted as she stroked Petey’s head. “Mile by mile. It won’t be easy, but it’s not impossible. The further south we go the safer it’ll be. My aim is to get shed of these woods as quick as we can with the Lord Almighty’s help.”
Mae wasn’t thinking of the Almighty but Jane McCrea. Sheshrank back against the rock wall, cold and uncomfortable as it was. There were British and Indians in these very woods, perhaps some who’d witnessed the murder—or even caused it.
“If we keep moving we’ll see the Shenandoah before the weather turns bitter.” Lucy’s calm continued. “Autumn is chancy here in New York but should get milder come Pennsylvania. For now, we’ll have to ride hard to clear this wilderness but can let up later on once it’s safer.”
