Later—how much later he couldn’t say—he opened his eyes, found himself in bed, Bethie bathing his brow. His head throbbed, almost sickeningly so.
“How do you feel?”
His throat was dry. “I’ve been better.”
She held out a cup, gently lifted his head. “Drink.”
Three times she refilled the cup, held it to his lips before his thirst was slaked.
He struggled to remember how he’d been injured, could not. “What happened?”
“You went outside the bloody walls and got hit by a tomahawk. Luckily, it struck your thick skull. Otherwise you might have been hurt.”
She was angry. He could see from the dark circles beneath her eyes that she hadn’t slept well for some time. “I’m sorry... I frightened you.”
“You did more than frighten me, Nicholas!” Her voice broke. Tears spilled onto her cheeks. “You almost got yourself killed!”
“I’m fine, love.” He reached up, cupped her cheek, wiped the tears away with his thumb. “How goes the battle?”
“The battle is all but over. Annie tells me the Indians have pulled back.”
***
After five relentless days and nights of fighting, the silence left everyone inside the fort feeling uneasy. No one could understand why the Indians had seemed to withdraw back into the forest. The entire garrison held its breath.
Nicholas recovered quickly, but Bethie wouldn’t let him out of her sight. Never had she been so desperately afraid as when he’d lain still, silent and sleeping.
“If you so much as think of leaving these walls, I’ll take your pistol and shoot you in the bloody foot!” she’d shouted at him.
“Bethie, I know this has been hard on you, but I need to do my part—”
“You’ve done your part! You’ve taken on more than your share of the risk!”
But what began as an argument soon turned to the sweetest lovemaking she’d ever experienced, Nicholas deep inside her, whispering to her all the ways he wanted to love her, as he brought her to one shattering peak after another and found his release inside her.
Still, Bethie was so determined to keep him from danger that when Captain Écuyer knocked on their door one morning, she had half a mind to shut it in his face. Only the knowledge that insubordination could get them thrown out of the fort kept her from doing just that. She didn’t like Écuyer one bit. Any man who could shoot a dog... well, there weren’t words.
“I want to thank you for your bravery and diligence, Kenleigh. I assure you I shall acquaint the commander in chief with your services to His Majesty these past months. I know you harbor no affection for me, but you are a man of courage and honor. You have done your duty with spirit, in the finest British tradition, and I respect that.”
Bethie watched as Nicholas took in the captain’s words, answered with silence.
Écuyer shifted uncomfortably. “Damn it, Kenleigh! What are they up to? Why have they withdrawn? We’re still surrounded, and yet we’ve watched hundreds cross the river, head east.”
“They’re taking the battle elsewhere. That’s the only explanation. They have us by the throat, and they know it. They have not truly withdrawn. There were Ottawa out there—and Wyandot.”
Écuyer’s gaze met his. “You think they mean to attack Colonel Bouquet.”
“That’s my guess. They hope to maintain the siege and at the same time destroy your reinforcements. They remember Braddock’s defeat and hope to accomplish the same thing with Bouquet.”
“If they do, it will be the end of us.”
“Aye.”
“For once I hope you’re wrong, Kenleigh.”
***
Two days later, three expresses arrived, carrying word from Colonel Bouquet. Reinforcements had reached Ligonier and were on their way. But scouts had reported a massive gathering of Delaware, Shawnee, Ottawa, and Wyandot just west of a place called Bushy Run. Colonel Bouquet was walking into a trap. But unlike Braddock before him, Bouquet and his regiment of Scottish Highlanders knew it.
