When a hand settled on her arm, Dawn jerked. She turned toward Mrs. Abbott’s friendly face, softened with sympathy. “I know it is difficult, but ’tis best to keep busy and not think about it.”
“What if he does not come back?” Dawn had not voiced her concern to any other person, and it was a relief to release the words rather than to let them roll around in her mind over and over. After all, Mrs. Abbott had experience in the matter and would know firsthand how to handle the grief should Dawn have to face it.
“Look at that little girl over there.” Mrs. Abbott inclined her head toward Mary.
Dawn’s gaze settled on the giggling girl with a giant grin.
“She is your family.”
Dawn shook her head with a frown. “You know she is not.” Mrs. Abbott was privy to their entire story, even the truth about how her and Jacob’s marriage had come to be.
Mrs. Abbott gave her that no-nonsense, motherly look that said she knew better. “Yes, she is. No one in this world loves that child more than you do. And she loves you as her mother. She knows you are the one that loves her and takes care of her. Edmund took her in because he is family and he was asked to. But he is only trying to carry out an obligation, to do what is right. And now, there is a good chance that if your young man does not come back, neither will he. You need to grab onto what is right in front of you and hold onto it as tight as you can. And if you lose Jacob, that little girl will be what gets you through the loss.”
Dawn braced herself against her washbasin, blinking back the tears flooding her eyes. Hearing someone else say that Jacob might not make it back was far more difficult than simply thinking the thought. Mrs. Abbott’s words came from a place of experience and truth, though. Only two years prior, she lost her husband of twenty years. She had confided in Dawn that it was her love for her children that had seen her through. Likely, it was still what helped her on the rough days when the ache of the loss returned.
Dawn turned her attention again to where Mary played. The summer sun shone against her blond curls, turning them nearly white. It was true that Mary would always have her heart. No matter where they went or who entered or left their lives, her love for Mary would never lessen. She had been so tiny when she came into Dawn’s life, requiring so much care and nurturing. Knowing the losses she had faced at such a young age, Dawn had been more than glad to fill the role of her caretaker. For two years, they had no one but themselves. And if it were come to it again, they would still have one another.
It would not mean that it would be easy, but it would make it bearable. And she could bear any burden if she leaned upon the good Lord above and sought God’s beauty in every day. She had no desire to return to dark days such as the ones she had faced before, but should that be her lot in life, she would face it as she had done before.
Dawn’s shoulders sagged. Why had she ever tried to do anything besides embrace her relationship with Mary? To embrace the person that God had placed in her life in the capacity in which he had placed her? It seemed she had forgotten to be grateful for her grandest blessing. Dawn leaned forward against the washbasin as tears slipped down her cheeks.
Mrs. Abbott’s hand came to her shoulder. “Honey, you were only ever doing what you thought was best for her. That is all we can do as parents. And sometimes, we learn from our mistakes and have to do better.”
Dawn nodded and smiled through her tears. “I only pray that I have that same opportunity with Jacob.”
Mrs. Abbott wrapped her in a hug. “I know, child. I know. I will be praying as well.”
The kind gesture did nothing to abate Dawn’s tears. They flowed unchecked as she squeezed the plump woman tightly, leaning into how motherly and wonderful the embrace was. After the loss of her parents, she never imagined she would find someone to care for her as Mrs. Abbott did in a maternal capacity. And there it was again—another incredible blessing that she nearly missed by wallowing in her fear and self-pity.
Dawn had never been one to allow those two sensations to dictate her life, so why would she do so now?
CHAPTER 17
And I will execute great vengeance upon them with furious rebukes; and they shall know that I am the LORD, when I shall lay my vengeance upon them.
EZEKIEL 25:17
August 19, 1782
Jacob yawned and rolled his shoulders before he pushed his left foot into the stirrup and mounted Samson. All around, men swung up onto their mounts as well. Though the sun had barely risen, it was imperative for the militia to be up and traveling at first light in order to catch up with the enemy. Easily, the men formed two lines, and the horses resumed their tireless march. Edmund took up the position beside Jacob once more.
The morning was fresh and crisp, if a bit humid, and Jacob drummed his fingers against the wooden stock of his rifle. Better to have the weapon at the ready, rather than in its holster on his saddle, should they fall under attack.
As they approached the Licking River, the horses traversed gentle rolling hills. Then they entered a flat expanse of open meadow land, filled with tall grasses and a few sparse wildflowers that reminded Jacob of Dawn.
Before they knew it, shouts could be heard from the front of the line. Colonel John Todd barked orders for those close enough to hear, and a relay rider came down alongside the ranks to shout the orders for the others. “Push ahead! Ford the river! Form ranks! Push ahead! Ford the river! Form ranks!”
Jacob’s heart ticked up a notch. This was it.
The horses at the front of the line assumed a trot, and soon, Jacob was bouncing along on Samson as they drew nearer to the ford in the river. The wide, lower area in the water allowed the militia to easily cross over on their mounts. Most of the horses, Samson included, delved in without hesitation, water splashing up all around them.
Edmund’s black steed shied sideways before being coaxed into the river. In the meantime, another rider found his way between the two of them. Jacob said a silent prayer for his comrade but kept his focus ahead as Samson pushed across.
Water poured from them as the horses trotted up onto the other shore. All the men held their rifles in hand now, not only to ready for battle as they formed ranks, but because any man worth his salt would have kept his gun above the water as they crossed. Now was not the time for hang fires or soggy weapons. Lives were at stake.
The militia formed three columns, Jacob falling into the left behind Lieutenant Colonel Daniel Boone. Despite his hesitations, the colonel had not allowed his men to enter into battle without him.
A moment later, they advanced.
