Jacob positioned the chocolate-colored horse right next to them. Then he moved closer and worked his arms under Edmund’s arms. Together, they managed to haul him upright, though Jacob supported most of the other man’s weight. From there, Jacob used Edmund’s legs as leverage to push him on up onto the saddle. Edmund loosed a long, loud groan as the arrow penetrated deeper into his body. But for the moment, the shaft seemed to staunch most of the bleeding. So despite the pain that would likely slice through the man with every step of his mount, it would have to stay put.
Jacob walked around to the other side and pulled himself up into his saddle with a grunt of his own. He tied the brown horse’s reins onto his saddle, then took Samson’s reins between his fingertips. Squeezing his legs, he urged the horse to walk on.
With the setting sun at their backs, and trusting that men digging the grave would check others for signs of life before placing them in the ground, they started toward the fort. Toward Dawn and Mary and a bright future together. Dusk would soon engulf them in darkness, but he trusted Samson and the good Lord above would see them through the night and they would come out the other side closer to home.
As they drew near the tree line, Jacob stopped and turned in the saddle. For a moment, he simply sat, taking in all the bodies scattered over the hillside and along the shores of the river. Every single one died fighting to protect this life of freedom they were so blessed to live. Always, he would remember their sacrifice. And never again would he take a single day for granted. Or a single moment spent with those he loved.
He gave Samson his head, allowing him to lead them on. Every sway of the horse’s gait made his body ache and his head throb, but he imagined it was only an ounce of the pain that Edmund bore. Every so often, he glanced over at his comrade, but with the dark of night and the movement of the horses, it was difficult to tell if he still breathed.
Finally, hours after nightfall, Jacob halted the horses at a creek and slipped from the saddle. A groan from Edmund’s direction let him know the man was still alive. Jacob moved between the horses while they drank and over to Edmund. He opened his canteen and lifted it to the man’s face. “Here, take a drink of water if you can.”
Edmund turned his head without opening his eyes and drank a couple of swallows of the liquid. Then he sagged back against the saddle. Jacob removed his waistcoat and laid it over Edmund’s body. He took a swig of the water, then refilled the canteen. What a blessing that he always carried his canteen slung across his body. After, he climbed back into the saddle and turned them toward home again.
As the crickets singing in the night became his only company once more, he was transported back in time, to the day he and Joseph had joked about the crickets and the owls. How he missed his brother’s smile.
For the first time since they had parted ways from his family, his chest ached with the pain of missing their company, their personalities, and most importantly, their love. With only the deep darkness looming ahead, the vibrancy of his family suddenly seemed the greatest blessing. One he had thrown away in his haste to prove himself.
Jacob scoffed. The only thing he had proven was proving to himself that family was more important than anything. Dawn and Mary meant more to him than anything in the world, more than any battle he could fight or accolade he could win. Nowhere he could go and nothing he could do would ever mean anything without them by his side. As soon as he made it to the fort and saw that Edmund was cared for, he never wanted to spend another moment away from his family.
With Edmund releasing Mary into their care, would that mean they were free to go where they wanted and live where they wanted? Could they seek out his land and rejoin his family? Jacob released a contented sigh. Though he was not sure what Dawn’s stance would be on the matter, a new dream bloomed before him—to unite his new family with the one he grew up with. As Samson plowed forth into the darkness, Jacob resolved that he would speak with Dawn upon his return. And that hope, the dream of that future, in the bright and beautiful wilderness with Dawn, kept him holding on.
August 21, 1782
Dawn swallowed as Mrs. Brooke closed Mr. Taylor’s wide staring eyes and stepped away from the bedside. Beside him, his wife began to wail. Tears formed in Dawn’s eyes, and she turned away. She started to retreat from the cabin, but her hands were covered in blood. So instead, she huddled around the washbasin with Mrs. Brooke and Mrs. Abbott, scrubbing the stains from her skin.
When finally her hands were clean and dry, Dawn slipped onto the porch. She pulled her blood-stained apron from over her head and crumpled it into a ball, dropping it onto the ground beside her as she sat on the edge of the porch. While Mrs. Taylor’s wails drifted through the door, Dawn crossed her arms over her knees and buried her face in them, allowing her own tears to fall.
All day, they had remained pent up inside her. When the first round of militia arrived that morning, she could have been among the many wives that crumpled into hysterics when their husbands were not among the ones to return. Every time stragglers came through the gates, her heart would lift, only to plummet. Still, she had blinked back her tears and remained strong. But no more. She could not stand to keep her hopes up any longer, only to have them dashed time and again.
They had worked to patch up one soldier after another. Lead balls had been retrieved from arms and legs. Another from Mr. McBride’s side, above his hip. There had even been a man who had to be sewn up after having removed an arrow from his arm himself. But Mr. Taylor had been the first to arrive, amazingly still alive after taking a bullet to the abdomen. The surgery had proven too difficult, too bloody, though, and he had succumbed to his injuries.
Was that Jacob out there somewhere? Had he taken a ball to the abdomen? Or worse? Did he lie somewhere in a field, with those brown eyes of his wide, unseeing? Or had he attempted to come back to her but died somewhere along the way? Daniel Boone had arrived with the first group, and with a short list of names of those who had died en route to the fort. Jacob’s name was not on the list. But that did not mean that he was not dead. Her last ounce of hope had run out, like the sand in an hourglass.
Mrs. Abbott came out onto the porch. She sat beside Dawn and rubbed her back. “This is no easy task, even when your own heart is not grieving.”
Dawn shook her head. “I cannot do it anymore.”
“I know, dear. I know. Come and eat something. Remember the stew Rebecca had simmering over the fire before we left.”
Dawn nearly retched. She shook her head again. “I cannot eat. I…I just want to be alone.”
“Let us get you home, then.” Mrs. Abbott placed a hand under her arm and helped her from her seat. The Taylors’ cabin was across the way, near the far end of the fort, so it seemed to take forever to make the journey at the slow pace with which her feet moved. From inside several cabins, crying could be heard. And in others, there was utter silence. Women grieved or were already spent from their grieving.
Finally, they made it to her cabin, and Mrs. Abbott swung the door open. The inside was empty, devoid of people. Dawn entered and crawled onto the bed, pulling her knees up and curling around herself.
“We will keep Mary for the night unless we hear otherwise. Let us know if you need anything, and I mean absolutely anything, before morning.” Mrs. Abbott waited in the doorway for her nod before she would leave.
When the door shut, Dawn allowed her tears to flow unchecked. She allowed the inevitable truth to seep into her bones and for the grief to consume her. Jacob was gone. She had only just been reunited with him, with her other half. They had shared only two short months together before he had been ripped from her life. And yet, it felt like so much more.
With Edmund not having returned, either, it would just be her and Mary again. They would have to find a new normal for their lives. One without Jacob’s smile or his kindness. Without him there to consider their needs and wants. To kiss her at the end of a long day or to whisk Mary onto his shoulders. Sobs overcame Dawn.
When they finally subsided, sleep tugged at her, and she allowed it to pull her into its dark, comforting abyss.
A loud banging at the door jarred Dawn from her sleep. Her brows gathered as she listened for the sound. “Dawn, come now!” Was that Rebecca’s voice? What would Rebecca need so urgently? Had something happened to Mrs. Abbott?
Dawn hastened to the door and swung it open.
Rebecca stood outside. “Two more riders have come in. Ma needs your help.”
