back of the house. There were thick thorn bushes growing there, with enough room for her to hide within, but still be able to see the house and the tree where the children and servants were hiding.
A drumming sound, like rolling thunder, alerted her to approaching horsemen. She hiked up her skirts and bolted from the relative safety of the oak grove. If she were caught, she didn’t want to be anywhere near the others.
Moments before the house blocked her view, she glimpsed a band of about five or six men on horseback, galloping up the trail from the village. They were too far away for her to see them well and she prayed they hadn’t seen her at all. She doubted she would make it to the creek, but had no choice but to try. She’d just put on an extra burst of speed when a figure in her peripheral vision appeared out of nowhere and grabbed her. A hand muffled her startled scream as her accoster used her momentum to lift her bodily and swing her around. She struggled as he carried her several yards away. Before she knew it, she was lying prone in the grass underneath him.
Terrified, she fought him, trying to think of the moves Sorcha had learned in self-defense class, but he grunted, “Lie still!” and she recognized Joseph’s voice. She froze in surprise, only her chest moving up and down as she attempted to catch her breath, which wasn’t easy with his hand over her mouth. He stared into her eyes and must have been satisfied that she would no longer fight him because he slowly lowered his hand and pulled his arm out from under her.
She ignored her first impulse to ask him why he was here. His actions had already demonstrated he was there to protect her, although she couldn’t fathom why. “Who are they?” she whispered.
“Mohawk,” he replied.
“War party?”
“No. They travel to New York to escort their chief north.”
She didn’t ask what happened in the village. Bear Talker’s words from two days ago came back to her: “Now the Mohawk encourage us to join the British crown in this fight against the colonials.” The horsemen would have considered it good fortune to happen upon an undefended patriot village where they could help themselves to anything they desired – all in the name of the crown.
He shifted himself off her, staying low to the ground. With his upper body resting on his elbows, he reached out and produced his musket. She rolled over and saw that he’d dragged her behind a slight crest in the field that offered natural cover. They watched the house through the tall grass; there was nothing to see, but plenty to hear. From the crashing and banging it was clear the Mohawk warriors were inside. There hadn’t been time for the pot of fat to cool. They would know the occupants had just left.
After a few minutes, two of them came out. One walked cautiously toward the creek and the other went in the direction of the west field.
“The children…” Enid whispered urgently. She started to crawl backward in the grass, but he stopped her.
“It will not help if you are caught.”
“What are they looking for?”
“I guess they already found it – shelter for the night.”
“No, I mean those two,” she said, nodding to the men slowly walking the perimeter.
He gave a slight shrug as if it were obvious. “You.”
She closed her eyes and shivered. Of course the Mohawk would want to make sure the occupants of the house they planned to squat in weren’t nearby – or a threat. The one who’d gone toward the west field circled back without finding the hollow tree. The other one looked inside the barn and the chicken coop and also came back around to the house. It was getting dark and the temperature had dropped. One of them went into the house, but to her dismay, the other sat in her father’s chair on the back porch and lit what was quite possibly her father’s pipe.
Joseph said, “We will wait until Grandmother Moon is high -”
“I cannot.”
He looked at her
A drumming sound, like rolling thunder, alerted her to approaching horsemen. She hiked up her skirts and bolted from the relative safety of the oak grove. If she were caught, she didn’t want to be anywhere near the others.
Moments before the house blocked her view, she glimpsed a band of about five or six men on horseback, galloping up the trail from the village. They were too far away for her to see them well and she prayed they hadn’t seen her at all. She doubted she would make it to the creek, but had no choice but to try. She’d just put on an extra burst of speed when a figure in her peripheral vision appeared out of nowhere and grabbed her. A hand muffled her startled scream as her accoster used her momentum to lift her bodily and swing her around. She struggled as he carried her several yards away. Before she knew it, she was lying prone in the grass underneath him.
Terrified, she fought him, trying to think of the moves Sorcha had learned in self-defense class, but he grunted, “Lie still!” and she recognized Joseph’s voice. She froze in surprise, only her chest moving up and down as she attempted to catch her breath, which wasn’t easy with his hand over her mouth. He stared into her eyes and must have been satisfied that she would no longer fight him because he slowly lowered his hand and pulled his arm out from under her.
She ignored her first impulse to ask him why he was here. His actions had already demonstrated he was there to protect her, although she couldn’t fathom why. “Who are they?” she whispered.
“Mohawk,” he replied.
“War party?”
“No. They travel to New York to escort their chief north.”
She didn’t ask what happened in the village. Bear Talker’s words from two days ago came back to her: “Now the Mohawk encourage us to join the British crown in this fight against the colonials.” The horsemen would have considered it good fortune to happen upon an undefended patriot village where they could help themselves to anything they desired – all in the name of the crown.
He shifted himself off her, staying low to the ground. With his upper body resting on his elbows, he reached out and produced his musket. She rolled over and saw that he’d dragged her behind a slight crest in the field that offered natural cover. They watched the house through the tall grass; there was nothing to see, but plenty to hear. From the crashing and banging it was clear the Mohawk warriors were inside. There hadn’t been time for the pot of fat to cool. They would know the occupants had just left.
After a few minutes, two of them came out. One walked cautiously toward the creek and the other went in the direction of the west field.
“The children…” Enid whispered urgently. She started to crawl backward in the grass, but he stopped her.
“It will not help if you are caught.”
“What are they looking for?”
“I guess they already found it – shelter for the night.”
“No, I mean those two,” she said, nodding to the men slowly walking the perimeter.
He gave a slight shrug as if it were obvious. “You.”
She closed her eyes and shivered. Of course the Mohawk would want to make sure the occupants of the house they planned to squat in weren’t nearby – or a threat. The one who’d gone toward the west field circled back without finding the hollow tree. The other one looked inside the barn and the chicken coop and also came back around to the house. It was getting dark and the temperature had dropped. One of them went into the house, but to her dismay, the other sat in her father’s chair on the back porch and lit what was quite possibly her father’s pipe.
Joseph said, “We will wait until Grandmother Moon is high -”
“I cannot.”
He looked at her
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