The girl pulled a cloak around her shoulders and hurried outdoors. She stopped at the side of the house where cut branches hid an oak door set in the ground. She lifted the door back and climbed down a ladder into a small root cellar. Moonlight made it easy to spot a few onions and carrots in the cool underground room. Reaching back on the shelves, her hand brushed a large object. She discovered a ham her father had cured. Somehow the soldiers missed it during the raid on the farm. Abby did not want the enemy to have the last bit of meat the family had, but if it would help, she would give it up gladly.
Back in the kitchen, she added the vegetables to the soup. She had flour and a couple of fresh eggs. She made a pan of biscuits to go with the ham. Her mind raced with all she must do. While the biscuits baked, she listened to the plan her mother had devised. “I think it will work, Abby,” her mother said. “It’s certainly worth a try.”
Abby moved quickly to get the meal together. She hoped her mother guessed right and the meal would make the soldiers sleepy.
Going to the barn on the pretext of seeking help, Abby took note of Caleb’s location. He sat in a corner, his hands bound.
“Sir, I have the soup ready. Would you send one of your men to help me carry it?”
The captain readily agreed, anxious to get his men fed. “Go with Mistress Clark, Corporal.”
As she left, Abby dared a look at Caleb, and tried to signal him with her eyes.
“If you’ll carry the pot of soup, sir, I’ll bring the rest,” Abby directed the corporal who followed her to the kitchen. She gathered bowls and spoons and the two returned to the barn.
Making one more trip to the kitchen, Abby collected the ham and biscuits along with a large knife for carving the meat. A smaller knife, sharp and gleaming, wrapped in a lace handkerchief, went into her apron pocket.
The soldiers lined up for Abby to ladle soup into their bowls. The corporal removed Caleb’s bonds in order for him to eat. Rubbing his wrists, Caleb stood directly in front of Abby. As she dipped the ladle into the soup, the captain called to her. “Hold on, Miss. Since you did not recognize the truth earlier when you tried to help this traitor, I think perhaps you might try again. Am I correct?”
Abby hung her head and stood mute before the officer.
“Well? You do understand, don’t you? Your friend is our prisoner.”
Still, Abby remained silent.
“Speak up, girl. I want the truth.”
“I just want him to have something to eat. That’s all.” Tears squeezed from beneath Abby’s tightly closed eyes. “I’m not doing anything wrong.” Her sobs increased.
Caleb felt confused. This was not at all like the girl who stood up to the officer a few hours ago.
“Oh, all right. Go ahead.” The captain threw up his hands and exclaimed to no one in particular. “See what happens when children get involved in war. No good ever comes of it.”
“Thank, you, sir.” Abby sniffed and wiped her eyes with the lace handkerchief. Still holding the handkerchief, she returned to her task and scooped up a full ladle of the hot liquid. “Have some soup, Master Fields.” She looked directly into Caleb’s eyes. “Make sure you eat every last drop. It will help you.”
When all the men had eaten, she set about gathering what she could carry and hurried to the farmhouse. She hoped Caleb understood.
* * * *
What did Abby mean? Puzzled, Caleb went to a far corner and sat down. Abby knew he had eaten two bowls of soup earlier, so why did she insist he have more? He shrugged, but didn’t want to cause suspicion by not eating. Besides, who knew when he’d get another meal? Caleb lifted his spoon and dipped into the bowl. The spoon hit something hard. He glanced around to see if anyone else watched, but saw their attention lay only on eating. Cautiously, he stuck his fingers into the hot soup and drew out the knife. He slipped it into his jacket pocket and continued eating. He knew they might tie his hands again; he must think how to get loose.
Caleb saw Abby return to collect the rest of the bowls and the soup pot. He nodded when she stole a glance at him on the way out. She smiled, and then turned when the captain’s voice stopped her. Caleb overheard the officer’s words to the girl.
“Mistress Clark, you and your mother stand guilty of harboring an enemy of the Crown, but I have decided to spare you because you gave us food and shelter. I hope your mother recovers soon.” He made a slight bow in Abby’s direction and waved her out.
Abby left without another glance at Caleb. He knew she didn’t want to make the British suspicious.
Caleb had guessed correctly. Once more, his wrists tied, he found himself pushed into a corner next to a young soldier.
“You’d best sleep, boy. We’ll start out early. Don’t think you’re going to lay eyes on such a pretty little lady again for a while.” Laughing, the soldier poked Caleb in the ribs before he turned to the wall and slept.
Sometime during the night, Caleb came instantly alert. The time had come. He must escape now, or when sunup arrived the Red Coats planned to take him along when they left. Moving quietly, he wiggled around and managed to slip the knife from his pocket.
Now, the hard part would begin. He used a sawing motion and pushed the knife back and forth until part of the rope gave way. Encouraged, he increased the pace, making as little noise as possible. In another few minutes, the rest of the rope fell away and Caleb broke free. He stuffed the telltale pieces of his bonds into his pocket. Rising from the floor, he stood for a moment holding his breath, then tiptoed through the dark building, careful not to step on a sleeping soldier. His heart beat so loudly he knew someone must hear. Stopping each time he heard a snore or a man mumbling in his sleep, Caleb tried to keep his knees from shaking. It seemed hours before he saw a sliver of moonlight peeking through the chinks in the barn wall. Following the light, Caleb reached the door, eased it open and stepped into the cool night.
He pulled in a deep breath and decided to wake Abby to let her know he had escaped. Giddy with the thought of freedom, Caleb headed for the farmhouse then stopped in his tracks when a gruff voice spoke from the dark. “Halt or I’ll shoot!”
THREE
Caleb’s heart thudded against his ribs as the cold barrel of a musket bit into the flesh of his neck.
“Taking a little walk, patriot?” The figure in the dark spat out the last word. Caleb remained silent and hoped the man did not guess his fear.
“The captain thought we might need a lookout tonight for more reasons than one, and he guessed right. Seems like we’ve caught the same enemy twice. What will the women think when I tell them I had to shoot my prisoner because he tried to escape?”
Caleb’s thoughts raced. At last, he found his voice. “If you plan to shoot me, at least don’t disturb the women. They’ve done you no harm and the mother lies ill.”
“How thoughtful of you, patriot, although some might see it as a sign of weakness. Well, I am not entirely heartless. Let the ladies continue their rest. You, however, have taken up arms against King George and must pay for your act of treason. With this attempt to escape, your punishment will come sooner than later. I’m sure it will be deemed justified.”
At that moment, Caleb detected a slight noise. He listened carefully and tried to separate it from the usual sounds of the night. Small creatures scuttled through the grass. The pawing and snorting of horses sounded and cool breezes rustled through the reeds lining the river’s edge. The sound resembled none of those.
“We’ll just take a short walk and not rouse the others. The captain ordered me to take care of any problems and I consider you a big problem.”
Caleb was pushed forward by the soldier’s musket barrel prodding his back. With his arms above his head, Caleb started down the narrow path beside the river. Again, his ears picked up a sound. Was it an animal, or could another soldier have come to gloat over his capture? As they reached the edge of the river, the moon slipped behind a cloud. An inky blackness surrounded them.
Another form materialized. Caleb heard the sounds of a scuffle and a whoosh of air leaving a chest. A dull thud came next when a body hit the ground.
Not knowing what to do or where to turn, Caleb stood rooted to the path. “Who’s there? What’s happened?” His teeth chattered and he strained to see the third figure.
An arm shot out of the darkness and a hand clamped over his mouth. Caleb struggled as he felt himself lifted from the ground. His feet dangled in the air.
“Be still, lad,” a raspy voice whispered in his ear. “I’m Amos Clark, Abby’s father. I came home earlier tonight and she told me the story. I waited to see if you got away from these ruffians. Guess my girl’s pretty smart to slip a knife in your soup, eh?”
Caleb wobbled, and then stood straight when Abby’s father set him down firmly on the ground.
“Thank you, sir. Yes, Mistress Abby acted bravely and I thank her for the plan to help me escape. What happens now? What will we do with this man?”
“Don’t worry, boy. I’ll take care of his majesty’s soldier. Now, I have a horse saddled and waiting for you beyond the house, and my daughter has packed some food. Oh, she also rescued your militia documents. I’ve tucked them in your knapsack. You’ll find everything in the saddlebags.”
Caleb hardly knew what to say. The man’s generosity and bravery overwhelmed him. Indeed, the whole family had helped him, even to the point of putting themselves in danger.
“I’ll delay the Red Coats and give the captain a good story about his prisoner stealing my horse. If he asks about his man, I’ll say it’s not my business to keep up with his soldiers and suggest he has a deserter. Don’t worry, lad, we’ll fare all right. But come now…let’s get you on your way. The sky will lighten soon.”
Caleb followed the husky man who hurried through the burgeoning dawn. Leading him to the side of the house away from the barn, Amos helped Caleb onto the waiting horse. “I call him Victory. He’s a good companion. Perhaps the two of you will return in better times.” Amos gave the chestnut a farewell pat. “Here’s a rough map I’ve sketched for you. I hope it helps.”
“I don’t know how to thank you, sir. I will come back. Please bid Miss Abby and her mother goodbye. I’m very grateful for their help.”
“Aye, boy, I will. I figure you’d better head south. I think the Red Coats’ plan carries them north to join with a larger regiment. I heard that news while at the trading post.”
“I’ll follow your directions and I thank you again, sir, for all you’ve done.” Caleb patted the horse and turned him south. As he rode away a whisper borne on the early morning breeze reached him. “Godspeed, young Fields, and come home safely.”
FOUR
When he decided the hoof beats could not be heard, Caleb urged Victory into a full gallop. He must reach the main road before full light of day. He kept the river in sight and at last guided the horse toward the tall reeds. Dismounting, he led Victory to the water’s edge. The chestnut, parched from the hard ride, drank greedily. Caleb stopped him after a bit and spoke gently. “I’m sorry, boy, you’re too hot now to drink any more. Let’s rest and then we’ll both have more later.” He led Victory away and tied the reins to a slender sapling.
The boy threw himself down in the grass and pulled the makeshift map from his pocket. Studying it, he furrowed his brow trying to decide which direction to take, and feeling more confused than ever. Hunger overtook him and he reached into the bag Abby’s father had given him. He pulled forth a package wrapped in oilskin. It contained cold biscuits and ham. As he munched his food, he wondered what had happened at the Clark’s farm after he left.
Not wanting to leave any clues, Caleb pushed the wrappings from his food deep into the bag. His fingers touched a piece of paper. Drawing it out, he unfolded the single sheet and read the few words written there. “May God keep you safe. Come back when you can.” The signature said only, “Your friend.”
How smart of Abby not to include names. If caught, both could suffer: he from bearing arms against the king, she for befriending the king’s enemy.
Caleb folded the message several times and tucked it into his jerkin. He fed Victory the oats Mr. Clark had included. When the horse had his fill, Caleb led him back to the river and allowed him to drink deeply. Then Caleb stretched out on the grass. Soon, his head nodded and his eyes closed. He fell into a dreamless sleep while his new companion stood guard.
“Wake up, you scoundrel! Where in tarnation did you get to?”
Caleb bolted up. Frightened, he blinked to clear the sleep from his eyes and spotted the pudgy form of Private Charlie O’Shea. “Easy, lad, we thought we’d seen the last of you.”
“Charlie, how did you find me? I got lost, then the king’s soldiers caught me and—”
“Hold on, son. We’ll have plenty of time to hear your story, but let’s get you out of here. We’ve searched everywhere for you. I sent the fellows on ahead and thought I’d take one last look around. Good thing I did. And I see you’ve acquired a fine piece of horseflesh there.” O’Shea gazed in admiration at Victory.
“That’s true. He got me this far and now you’ve found me. I’m mighty glad to see you, Private O’Shea.”
“Then let’s get on our way. Follow me and keep a good lookout. The king’s men are everywhere. We had a couple of skirmishes yesterday. Johnny Bell took a shot to his leg. He’s hurt pretty bad and the corporal wants to get going. He heard a rumor that a big contingent of the king’s soldiers will head north. Captain Johnson and a group have gone ahead to make sure.”
“He’s right, Charlie.”
“How do you know that, lad?”
“Amos Clark told me. He owned the farm where I got caught. He heard about it in town.”
“Let’s catch up with the others. The corporal needs this information.”
Another ten minutes of hard riding brought Caleb and Charlie O’Shea to a narrow side road that twisted through a stand of oaks. Banners of gray moss floated from the tall trees. Caleb stayed just behind O’Shea while they rode toward a clearing. Well-hidden from the enemy’s eyes, it served as a meeting place for the militia.