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Authors: Laura Frantz
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began to murmur amongst
themselves till the sound was a small roar in the large room.
He held up a hand to still the din. "We Virginians have heard of the degradations this settlement and others have suffered
at the hands of the British and Shawnee. By the authority of
Governor Henry and the Virginia legislature, we mean to stop
the hostilities-by any means necessary."
Morrow kept her eyes down as he went on to talk about the
artillery they'd brought, the heavy cannon, the fresh supplies
of shot and powder. Truly, this man liked the sound of his own
voice. He smacked of civilization from the polished brass buttons of his fine blue coat to his shiny black boots.
"We know that the British are agitating the Indians, supplying
them with guns and trade goods, goading them into reclaiming
the Kentucke territory as their own:" He paused and leaned into
the pulpit, his finely modulated drawl that of a seasoned orator.
"Surely a land like this is worth contending for'
There was a ripple of assent and several shouted "ayes" from
the men. Morrow flexed her gloved hands, noting the fingertips were soiled. Beside her, Pa sat still as stone. When Major
McKie's speech ended, Pa stood to pray. For peace. For God's
will to be done in the settlement and to the ends of the earth.
When he finished, he moved to the pulpit to give his sermon,
but she hardly noticed.
There seemed to be a small collective gasp from the women
present as Major McKie turned in her row. He took the seat Pa
had just vacated, and his knee brushed the folds of her dress
and stayed there. Prickles of heat climbed from her bare neck
to her face. Even the tips of her ears felt on fire. He was entirely
too close. She could smell his perspiring beneath the confines
of his Continental coat. The fine lines of his uniform were striking but unfamiliar, accustomed as she was to the British scarlet
and white. Jabbing Morrow with a sharp elbow, Jemima gave a
murmur of disapproval. Or jealousy. Morrow didn't dare look
at her.
By sermon's end, her face and neck still felt overwarm as the officer beside her turned to her straightaway. "I'd heard the
preacher had a beautiful daughter, but I find the praise somewhat ... restrained:"
She raised her eyes to look up at him, extending a gloved hand
in her befuddlement. He took it firmly, not letting go. Jemima
stood just behind her, a heavy shadow in the dim light. "Well,
Morrow Mary, aren't you going to introduce me to the major?
Or have you forgotten your fine Philadelphia manners?"
"Why, yes ... of course, Morrow murmured, taking back
her hand.
He let go reluctantly, his eyes never leaving her face. Was
this what was meant by being instantly smitten? She feared so
but couldn't fathom why. She was simply a settlement girl in a
too-fancy hat ...
Pa came to stand between them, a welcome buffer. Never in
her life had she felt so glad to have him near. "I see you've met
my daughter," he said.
Major McKie shook his outstretched hand. "Met her? I'm
afraid I can't take my eyes off her"
The heavy-handed compliment only upended her further.
She turned to find Jemima still hovering and made introductions softly without looking at him again. "These are my friends
Jemima Talbot and Lizzy Freeman:"
An awkward silence followed their greetings. Pa cleared his
throat, taking her arm and squeezing it as if well aware of her
unease. He cast a look at the open blockhouse door as people
exited. "We'd best be starting for home, given the heat. The dog
days of August are upon us"
"So it seems;' the major said tersely, finally looking away from
her. "I admit I was reluctant to take a post on the frontier, but
I'm beginning to find the aggravation well worth it"
"Good Sabbath, Pa said, putting on his hat.
Morrow turned to go, forgetting to bid Lizzy and Jemima goodbye. Outside on the fort common, settlement folk and soldiers were milling about despite the suffocating heat and dust,
lingering by the
themselves till the sound was a small roar in the large room.
He held up a hand to still the din. "We Virginians have heard of the degradations this settlement and others have suffered
at the hands of the British and Shawnee. By the authority of
Governor Henry and the Virginia legislature, we mean to stop
the hostilities-by any means necessary."
Morrow kept her eyes down as he went on to talk about the
artillery they'd brought, the heavy cannon, the fresh supplies
of shot and powder. Truly, this man liked the sound of his own
voice. He smacked of civilization from the polished brass buttons of his fine blue coat to his shiny black boots.
"We know that the British are agitating the Indians, supplying
them with guns and trade goods, goading them into reclaiming
the Kentucke territory as their own:" He paused and leaned into
the pulpit, his finely modulated drawl that of a seasoned orator.
"Surely a land like this is worth contending for'
There was a ripple of assent and several shouted "ayes" from
the men. Morrow flexed her gloved hands, noting the fingertips were soiled. Beside her, Pa sat still as stone. When Major
McKie's speech ended, Pa stood to pray. For peace. For God's
will to be done in the settlement and to the ends of the earth.
When he finished, he moved to the pulpit to give his sermon,
but she hardly noticed.
There seemed to be a small collective gasp from the women
present as Major McKie turned in her row. He took the seat Pa
had just vacated, and his knee brushed the folds of her dress
and stayed there. Prickles of heat climbed from her bare neck
to her face. Even the tips of her ears felt on fire. He was entirely
too close. She could smell his perspiring beneath the confines
of his Continental coat. The fine lines of his uniform were striking but unfamiliar, accustomed as she was to the British scarlet
and white. Jabbing Morrow with a sharp elbow, Jemima gave a
murmur of disapproval. Or jealousy. Morrow didn't dare look
at her.
By sermon's end, her face and neck still felt overwarm as the officer beside her turned to her straightaway. "I'd heard the
preacher had a beautiful daughter, but I find the praise somewhat ... restrained:"
She raised her eyes to look up at him, extending a gloved hand
in her befuddlement. He took it firmly, not letting go. Jemima
stood just behind her, a heavy shadow in the dim light. "Well,
Morrow Mary, aren't you going to introduce me to the major?
Or have you forgotten your fine Philadelphia manners?"
"Why, yes ... of course, Morrow murmured, taking back
her hand.
He let go reluctantly, his eyes never leaving her face. Was
this what was meant by being instantly smitten? She feared so
but couldn't fathom why. She was simply a settlement girl in a
too-fancy hat ...
Pa came to stand between them, a welcome buffer. Never in
her life had she felt so glad to have him near. "I see you've met
my daughter," he said.
Major McKie shook his outstretched hand. "Met her? I'm
afraid I can't take my eyes off her"
The heavy-handed compliment only upended her further.
She turned to find Jemima still hovering and made introductions softly without looking at him again. "These are my friends
Jemima Talbot and Lizzy Freeman:"
An awkward silence followed their greetings. Pa cleared his
throat, taking her arm and squeezing it as if well aware of her
unease. He cast a look at the open blockhouse door as people
exited. "We'd best be starting for home, given the heat. The dog
days of August are upon us"
"So it seems;' the major said tersely, finally looking away from
her. "I admit I was reluctant to take a post on the frontier, but
I'm beginning to find the aggravation well worth it"
"Good Sabbath, Pa said, putting on his hat.
Morrow turned to go, forgetting to bid Lizzy and Jemima goodbye. Outside on the fort common, settlement folk and soldiers were milling about despite the suffocating heat and dust,
lingering by the
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