Forever Ashley (18 page)

“Keep up!” Aaron shouted over his shoulder. After lifting
his pistol, he fired at the officers who were in a close race with Revere now.
The shot rang out in the darkness, then another.

“Oh, Lord!” Ashley closed her eyes tightly and hung on.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of death I shall fear no evil....forget
that! Yes, I do! Help me!”

A pond sprang into view directly in Paul’s path, but his
horse never broke stride. Paul nimbly reined his mount around the perimeter of
the muddy water and raced on.

Pulling their horses to a standstill, Ashley and Aaron broke
out laughing as they watched the two English officers plow straight into the
water.

Swearing and flinging hot accusations at one another, the
officers fumed as they found themselves sitting waist deep in mud.

As Aaron and Ashley rode past them a moment later, the two
men were still trying to pry each other free of the muck.

Chapter
Twelve

By the time the riders approached the next town, Ashley was
ready to shoot the horse she was riding. Each time Aaron glanced back to make
sure she was following, she smiled gamely and pretended she was just fine, but
she had gained a new respect for those old-time western stars Roy Rogers and
Dale Evans.

If those two could stay in a saddle for eight hours a day
and still sing “Happy Trails to You,” they had her undying admiration.

As they rode through the night, Paul dashed down the narrow
lanes, calling out the alarm to each farmhouse he came to until a light
appeared in a window.

Ashley sighed with relief when she saw the small wooden sign
into which the name, MEDFORD, had been crudely carved. The men would surely
stop here to catch their breath for a moment, she thought.

Her horse slowed, and she closed her eyes for the briefest
of moments.

A second later she was jolted in her saddle, aware that
someone had called her name. “Yes?”

She could see Aaron sitting on his horse in the shadows,
watching for Paul’s return.

“Did you say something?” she called. He shook his head,
motioning for her to fall silent.

Funny, she thought, someone called her name.

Paul galloped past again, and Aaron spurred his horse.
Ashley gritted her teeth and did the same.

As they approached Medford, the houses seemed closer
together. Proceeding immediately to the house of the captain of the minutemen,
Paul awakened him, then rode on.

“Awake! Awake!” Paul called out. “To arms, the British are
coming!”

The sash on a downstairs window flew up, and a man poked his
head outside.

“What say you?” he demanded.

“The British are coming! Arm yourself!”

“Who might you be?”

“Paul Revere of Boston! Rouse your friends and neighbors!
Time is fleeting!”

Paul dashed back to the road and rode on with Aaron and
Ashley following close behind. At the next house, Paul’s voice rang out. ”To
arms, to arms!” he called. When the house remained dark, he called out again.

When Paul seemed to be having difficulty rousing the
household, Aaron stirred his horse. “Mayhap they sleep soundly,” he whispered.

‘To arms, to arms!” Paul called again, but still he received
no reply.

Following close behind Aaron, Ashley irritably pulled on the
horse’s reins. “I said whoa, you stupid ninny!”

Paul and Aaron shot her a harsh look, and she quickly
lowered her voice and stared back at them sullenly. It wasn’t her idea to be in
this dream. “I hate this animal.”

After sliding down off the horse, she tried to stomp feeling
back into her legs.

Turning back to the window, Paul cupped his hands to his
mouth and called loudly, “To arms! To arms! The British are coming!” But again
he was met by silence.

Ashley bent down, picked up several small stones, and tossed
them at an upstairs window. When the first stones didn’t bring a light, she
tossed a second handful.

She gasped in horror when the window shattered, the shards
of glass sprinkling down upon Paul and Aaron.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. She grinned lamely. “Bet that got
their attention.”

The owner of the house awakened and was now leaning out the
hole in the window, staring sleepily down at the trio standing beneath him.

“What is the meaning of this?” he bellowed.

‘The British are coming!” Paul called out.

“Did ye have to break me blasted window to tell me!”

“Rouse your family and friends,” Paul shouted. “And prepare
to fight for your freedom!” With that, Paul wheeled his mount and was on his
way again.

After that, Ashley lost track of the homes where Paul paused
to rouse the sleeping occupants. She found it heartwarming that no householder
questioned what was happening but readily roused his family and prepared to
fight for freedom.

Hour after hour she hung on to the horse’s mane, trying to
keep up with Paul and Aaron as they darted through yards, flowerbeds, and rows
of prickly hedge.

Paul had just emerged from a lone farmhouse and rode on
ahead when Ashley’s horse stumbled in a deep rut, flinging her to the side.

Grasping for a hold on the saddle, Ashley felt her foot slip
free from the stirrup. She’d given up on wearing her glasses so at least she
wouldn’t see her own death. “Aaron!” she screamed, praying she could hold on to
the saddle long enough for him to hear her above the sound of thundering
hooves.

The horse, startled by her screams, surged back on its hind
feet, flinging Ashley aside like a rag doll.

Aaron turned to look over his shoulder just as the steed was
rearing. He watched in horror as Ashley’s body flew through the air and landed
with a dull thud and a cloud of dust.

Though the force of her momentum rolled her from beneath the
horse’s flashing hooves, the hard landing completely knocked the breath out of
her.

After spinning his mount around, Aaron raced back to her. He
flung the reins over the gelding’s head and jumped off, certain he’d find her
unconscious from the fall.

He knelt beside her and began to feel for broken bones. “Lie
still,” he demanded, and Ashley was surprised to hear the fear in his voice.

“I’ve broken every bone in my body.” She moaned. It was
several long, painful moments before she could force air back into her lungs.

“No, you haven’t broken every bone in your body.” His hands
moved along her rib cage, probing for injury.

“I have!”

“You haven’t.”

Assured she hadn’t broken a single bone, he gently helped
her to her feet.

“I’m all right,” Ashley managed to whisper. “Just let me catch
my breath.”

“From now on, stay closer!”

“Closer! It’s all I can do to keep you in sight!”

He brushed off her dress. “You scared the life out of me,”
he said gruffly.

She managed a weak smile.

Her pulse quickened as he drew her to him for a moment,
holding her close. “I was a fool to insist that you make this ride,” he
admitted. “’Tis much too dangerous for a woman. I will tell Paul that we are
returning to—”

“No!” Ashley straightened, suppressing a moan. She would not
permit him to relinquish his part in shaping history because of her. “I’m fine,
really.”

“Ashley—”

Pressing her fingers over his mouth, she protested softly.
“Aaron. I insist. We must go on.”

“I cannot go on. Not at your expense.”

“But you must.” Their eyes met, and for the first time in
Ashley’s life, she saw the honest expression of love in a man’s eyes. Her pulse
raced and she felt lightheaded as she realized how very much she loved him,
too. “And I will be right beside you, all the way.”

Drawing her back to him, he held her tightly. “When this is
over, I will take you somewhere where you will be safe,” he promised. His arms
tightened more possessively around her. “I give you my word. No one will hurt
you.” Oh, Aaron, you still refuse to believe that neither of us is real. We’re
both caught in a fantasy over which we have no control.

Bringing her mouth to his, he tenderly brushed her lips.
“You taste as I remember.,” he murmured.

“You have thought about how I’d taste?”

He nodded gravely. “’Tis been the core of my restless
nights.”

“That’s nice to know.” Pressing closer, she opened her mouth
beneath his as he took full possession of her.

Rockets exploded, bells rang, and firecrackers burst in a
glorious spray of color in Ashley’s head at the sound of his masculine groan of
pleasure.

She wasn’t sure what would have happened next if Paul had
not come thundering back down the road, looking for them.

“Are you hurt?”

Moving away from Aaron, she smiled. “I’m fine, really.”

Aaron steadied her horse and helped her into the saddle.
“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I...” She was tempted to tell him how badly her muscles
ached, but she couldn’t. Paul Revere, with Aaron Kenneman in the background,
was charting the course of American history. She couldn’t delay them any
longer. “I’ll be fine, really.”

Aaron remounted and, giving her a warm smile, wheeled and
rode off.

Ashley wearily kicked her mount, setting off in another
uncomfortable trot down the road.

All along the road from Medford to Lexington, Paul roused
the occupants of farmhouses, urging them to bear arms against the advancing
British.

As they rode into Lexington, Paul proceeded to a large, red
brick house.

After jumping off his horse, he raced up the steps and
pounded on the door. It took several tries to raise the occupant, but
eventually the door flew open, and a tousle-haired man haphazardly dressed
loomed in the doorway.

John Hancock stared at Paul Revere. “I trust you have a
purpose for disturbing me at this hour?”

Paul grinned. “Hope I didn’t interrupt anything worthwhile,
John.”

“I should be so fortunate.”

“Have you spoken with Dawes?”

“Yes, I’m preparing to leave momentarily.”

Ashley and Aaron waited as Revere and Hancock conversed in
hurried tones. With a departing wave, Paul left Hancock standing on the porch
and sprang to his horse. A moment later he galloped off down the road.

Turning their horses, Ashley and Aaron followed. Farther
down the road, Paul stopped at a small brownstone house. He sprang from his
horse again, raced up the steps, and pounded on Samuel Adams’s door.

The men conversed briefly, then Paul turned and strode
toward Aaron.

Nudging his horse from the shadows, Aaron met him halfway.

“How fares Mistress Wheeler?” Paul asked.

“She grows weary.” Aaron glanced over his shoulder, then
lowered his voice. “Mayhap we might spare a moment for her to rest. ‘Twould
only be a short interruption.”

‘There is an inn not far down the road. We will spare a few
moments,” Paul acknowledged.

The three riders set off again. As they galloped down the
road, a rider approached from the opposite direction, traveling hard.

The riders stopped short, their horses prancing. Paul
recognized the traveler and called to him cordially. “Dawes! Good to see you!”

Willie Dawes tipped his hat to Revere. “I assume we make the
same journey?”

“Yes, I too have spoken with Hancock and Adams.” Dawes
nodded. “I will ride with you if you desire.” Paul nodded. "Your presence
is welcome. But first we spare a few brief moments for the lady to rest.”

Dawes glanced questioningly at Ashley, then back to Paul.
“As you say.”

The inn was small, virtually deserted at that hour. After
lifting Ashley out of the saddle, Aaron helped her up the wooden steps.

“You’re walking rather oddly,” he teased.

She gave him a dour look that discouraged him from
elaborating further.

Revere and Dawes were deep in conversation as Ashley
gingerly took the seat Aaron provided for her.

A yawning serving girl set a mug of ale in front of the men,
then turned to Ashley.

“What’ll it be, mistress?”

“Oh...a Miller Lite, I guess.” Ashley didn’t care for beer
as a rule, but she hoped the alcohol might dull the ache in her thighs.

Revere and Dawes interrupted their conversation to look at
her.

“A glass of cider,” she amended, too weary to try to
explain. She lay her head down on the table, exhausted.

At Aaron’s signal, the buxom girl brought meat pies for the
four of them. The men conversed in low tones as they ate, ignoring her.

The meal was hurried, and long before Ashley was ready to
ride again Paul consulted his pocket watch, frowning. “I must be on my way to
warn Concord.” After flipping a coin to the innkeeper, Aaron took Ashley’s arm
and helped her outside.

He escorted her to the horse, where he stole another brief
kiss. Lifting her hands to his face, she framed it as she returned the embrace,
thinking that she would do anything within her power to protect this man.

They were on the road only a short while when a rider
appeared as a black silhouette against the moonlit sky.

Easing his horse closer to hers, Aaron said quietly, “If
there is trouble, I want you to turn and ride back to Lexington. There is a
small grove of trees on the outskirts of town. Wait there until I return. We
will draw fire away from you to ensure that you won’t be harmed.”

“Don’t worry. I have a can of Mace with me.” Ashley’s heart
thumped as the riders reined to a halt. Her hand moved to her canvas bag.

As the dust settled, a handsome young man hailed Aaron and
Revere. “Revere! Kenneman! You near scared the waddin’ out of me!”

“Prescott!” Revere exclaimed. “What are you doing out at
this hour?”

Ashley’s heartbeat slowed. Dr. Samuel Prescott was a
patriot, and one whom she knew would eventually join the ride.

“In Lexington, visiting my sweetheart,” Prescott exclaimed.
“What is the purpose of your midnight jaunt?”

“The British have made their move,” Paul said, “and we’re
riding to warn the colonists to gather arms.”

Prescott’s features darkened. “Then I shall join the cause.”

“You are welcome,” Paul invited.

The five started out again, riding at a fast clip. When they
drew close to a house, Ashley and Aaron would drop back to remain within
hailing distance, but far enough away to allow the three men to go about their
mission.

Toward dawn, the weary group looked up to see a group of
redcoats riding toward them.

Ashley’s heart rose to her throat as the men reined their
mounts, watching the approaching riders warily.

“What do we do now?” Prescott asked.

“We ride like Satan himself was chasing us,” Paul returned
gravely.

Aaron and Ashley cut their horses off the road and
disappeared behind a thick row of undergrowth.