Forever Ashley (20 page)

"We have to go back. If the British find them, we’re
lost!” John leaned out the window of the carriage, shouting, “Stop!”

"What is going on?” The driver fought the horses,
trying to bring the carriage to a complete halt.

Hancock laid a restraining hand on Paul’s arm. “It is risky
to return by carriage, Paul. The British draw closer.”

“Then I will walk back,” Paul said firmly. “You cannot risk
being caught and we can’t leave those papers behind, John. If the English find
them, our cause will be irreparably harmed.”

Paul opened the door and stepped out of the carriage.
“Continue on. I shall secure the papers and then meet up with you later.”

Releasing Ashley reluctantly, Aaron prepared to go with
Paul.

John Lowell reached out to block his efforts. The older
man’s eyes radiated deep concern. “I will accompany Paul.”

Aaron glanced at Ashley, who by now was staring at him, near
tears.

“John, I can’t allow you do that. ‘Tis too dangerous,” Aaron
protested.

“Please.” John’s smile was gentle. “I have only myself to
look after.” His eyes returned to Ashley. “Grant me the honor of going, instead
of you.”

Ashley gripped Aaron’s arm. “Please, Aaron, let him go.” Her
heart was in her eyes as she gazed back at him. She had an inexplicable feeling
that if he went with Paul, she would never see him again.

After giving John’s shoulder  a firm squeeze, Aaron moved
around him to exit the carriage. “You are welcome to come along, John, but I
must go with Paul.”

Ashley sat forward as John exited the coach behind Aaron. As
Aaron closed the carriage door, his eyes met Ashley’s. “I will be safe. You are
not to be concerned.”

 “I’m coming with you.” Pushing the door open, Ashley tried
to scramble out of the coach.

“No!” Aaron caught the door and held it. “You are to
continue on with Hancock and Adams.”

“No!” Ashley argued. “I’m going with you.”

“Ashley,” Aaron began patiently, “you cannot go with me. You
are near exhaustion as it is. Paul, Lowell, and I will return to Lexington, and
you will—”

“I’m going.” Again Ashley tried to force the door open, but
Aaron stubbornly refused to permit it.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.

“You will do what I say.”

“I won’t," Ashley stated emphatically. “I’m afraid
you’ll be hurt.”

“Kenneman,” Hancock said wearily, “are you going or not? We
could all be old men by the time you settle this dispute.”

“I’m going.” Aaron pointed at Ashley. “You’re staying.”

Leaning inside the carriage window, he captured her face
between his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. “Ashley, please listen to
reason. Anything could happen. I cannot take the chance that you will be
harmed,” he whispered.

“I know that anything can happen. That’s why I want to be
with you.” Her voice caught in a sob. “Please, Aaron, I’m so frightened for
you.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and he kissed them away
tenderly. His lips traced down her face, clinging briefly to hers before he
drew away.

“Please don’t leave me,” she whispered.

“I don’t want to leave you, but you’ll be safer in Hancock’s
care.” He kissed her one last time, then turned and started after Paul and
John, who were already walking back toward Lexington.

“Paul!” Ashley leaned out the carriage window. “Don’t let
him get hurt!”

Aaron glanced at Paul and rolled his eyes.

“I’ll hold his hand at every corner,” Paul returned, winking
at Aaron. “You can be sure of that!”

Hancock leaned forward, patting her hand. “The battle for
freedom claims many casualties, my dear.”

Ashley’s eyes refused to leave Aaron until his tall figure
disappeared over a small rise. “Although I was born in America, and I’ve
enjoyed all the liberty and independence that men like you and Aaron and Paul
have sacrificed their very lives for, I’m only now realizing how precious
freedom is...and how precious truly loving one man can be,” she confessed.

John nodded. “Ah, child, I wish I knew the America of which
you speak.” He leaned back, smiling now as his eyes clouded with a prescient
vision. “But someday, and very soon I pray, we shall declare ourselves separate
from the state of Great Britain, declaring that all men possess the God-given
rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Only then will we be
free.” He sighed. “Only then.”

Samuel Adams, who had been quiet until now, spoke up. “’Tis
a dream we shall see, John. We cannot despair.”

The carriage lurched forward, and Ashley rested her head on
the back of the seat, wondering if she would ever see Aaron again.

As the coach rolled along, Hancock and Adams relaxed against
the wall and dozed, weary from their hectic night.

They hadn’t gone more than a mile when Ashley suddenly
leaned out the window and called for the driver to stop the carriage.

Ashley heard the driver shouting an assortment of colorful
epithets as he fought to bring the coach to a stop.

Hancock stirred sleepily, cocking one eye open. “What is it
now?”

“I need to...take a walk,” she said.

“A walk?” Hancock’s brows raised with suspicion. “At this
hour?”

“I...um, need to take a walk,” Ashley said again, hoping
that he wouldn’t press for details.

“Oh, yes...certainly,” he muttered as the source of her
distress finally dawned on him. He opened the carriage door for her.

Ashley climbed down and picked her way carefully through the
brush at the side of the road.

As she parted the bushes, Ashley saw that Hancock and Adams
had gone back to dozing and the driver had seized his opportunity to do the
same. Lifting her skirts, she turned and tiptoed away.

There wasn’t much time; she had to put as much distance
between her and the carriage as she possibly could before Hancock discovered
that she was gone.

She ran faster, her breath coming in short spurts now. She
had to find Aaron before he left the tavern. If anything happened to him, she
couldn’t bear it.

Holding her side with one hand, she darted out on the road,
running faster as she glanced over her shoulder to see if her plan had been
discovered.

She was relieved when she saw that it hadn’t. As she
disappeared over the rise, the coach was still sitting in the middle of the
road, the three male occupants dozing peacefully.

Chapter
Fourteen

“Mistress Wheeler, why do I have the impression you’re not
listening to me?” Aaron stood before Ashley thirty minutes later, arms crossed,
staring at her crossly.

“I know you’re upset, but I had to come. I couldn’t just sit
there and let anything happen to you!”

“Ashley, ’tis too dangerous—”

“Aaron.” Ashley laid her hand over his mouth to still his
protests. “Please, I’m here, and there’s nothing you can do about it. We’ll
only be wasting time if we stand around arguing, and it won’t do any good to
take me back—I’ll just run away again.”

“Where is Hancock?”

“He was sleeping last time I saw him.”

“Sleeping!”

Paul sighed. “She speaks the truth, Aaron. If we return her
to Hancock, we lose yet more valuable time.”

“Paul, I don’t like it.”

Turning Aaron and Paul toward the tavern, Ashley hooked her
arms through theirs and set them to walking. “Look at it this way, guys. There
are a lot of things I don’t like.” She smiled up at the two men brightly.
“We’ll just all have to learn to be more flexible.”

****

The morning sun was a fiery red ball in the eastern sky by
the time Ashley, Aaron, Paul, and John Lowell approached Lexington. The morning
air had a chill to it, causing Ashley to huddle deeper into the coat Aaron had
lent her.

She drew closer to Aaron’s side as she noticed that the men
were keeping a close eye out for British soldiers.

As they neared town, they had taken to the ditches and
underbrush each time they heard someone approaching, only to see a farmer
striding down the road with his muzzle loader over his shoulder.

“’Tis obvious the town has been alarmed,” Paul whispered as
they crouched in a ditch waiting for the latest traveler to pass. “We must
proceed to the green where the militia meets. There we can observe what is
transpiring.”

The four continued on, creeping between houses and down
alleyways until Lexington Green was in sight.

Crouching behind a thorny bush, they watched as a young boy
slung the strap of a drum over his shoulder and beat a roll. Fifty to sixty
militiamen gathered in formation, wearing a variety of ragtag uniforms. Each
man’s face was stamped with firm determination. Ashley shook her head sadly as
she watched the preparations for battle, knowing that many of them would never
see the end of this day.

After brief instructions, the commander called out,
“Dismissed. But stay within call of the drum and at the ready!”

The air was thick with anxiety. Ashley’s heart beat like a
trip-hammer as she watched young farmers becoming soldiers to fight for a
conviction they felt was precious enough for which to risk their lives—freedom.

The group broke up slowly, many walking across the green to
a tavern adjoining the common to await further orders.

“’Tis a stroke of good luck that Captain Parker leads them,”
Paul murmured.

After slipping from the bushes, Paul hurried to the captain.
The two men shook hands, then began to converse in quiet undertones.

Suddenly a man ran up to Captain Parker, gesturing excitedly
down the road. Captain Parker listened, his features tightening as he tried to
follow the man’s rapid, anxious discourse.

“How far, Thaddeus?”

“Within a mile, sir. I saw them with mine own eyes!” A
moment later Paul hurried back to Aaron, Ashley, and John. “Bowman has been out
on the road. He says the British troops are within a mile.”

Aaron’s jaw grew firm. “I want Ashley at the tavern, where
she’ll be protected.”

“Be quick about it.” Paul crawled off, looking for a better
vantage point to observe the British when they entered town.

“No.” Ashley’s hand gripped Aaron’s arm. “I want to stay
with you.”

“This time there’ll be no argument,” Aaron said shortly.
“The British are within minutes of here. There will be a battle, and I will not
allow you to remain in danger.” Ashley couldn’t deny that she was concerned.
She was about to be caught up in a war, a very bloody, brutal war between men
who had once been countrymen but who now were at odds on an issue that they
felt could be resolved in no other way.

Blood would be spilled today. Men would die—please God, not
Aaron. She wanted to cry out and stop the madness, but she knew her efforts
would be useless. She was powerless to prevent the battle about to take place.

The bushes parted, and Paul returned. He extended his hand
to Aaron. “I take my leave now. The British are nearly upon us.”

“Be careful, Paul,” Aaron responded solemnly.

“And you too, my good friend. His hand upon us this day.”
The two men shook hands.

Revere turned to Ashley. “And you, young lady. You’ve been
an education.” A faint smile curved his lips. “In many ways, you’re like my
Rachel. She would never have stayed behind—had it not been for the children.”

“Oh, Paul.” Ashley went into his arms, giving him a warm
hug. “I’ve never appreciated you enough.”

“Nonsense. If what you say is true, then you know that our
efforts will not be in vain.” Squeezing her hand, he smiled. “Take care, little
one.” Turning to John, he said quietly, “It is time we retrieved Hancock’s
papers and were on our way.” Giving Ashley’s hand another quick squeeze, he
nodded gravely to Aaron, and then he was gone.

Aaron’s features were grim as he watched Paul and John make
their way across the green. “Ah, would that I could see the future,” he said
softly.

“Paul will be fine,” Ashley murmured. “He will return to his
family and finish out his days in his silversmith shop, raise his children, and
enjoy his many grandchildren.”

Aaron turned, a ray of hope lighting his eyes. “This is
certain?”

Ashley smiled. “It is certain.”

Reaching for her hand, he said, “Come. We must get you
safely away from the common.”

This time Ashley didn’t argue with him. Until now she’d been
fairly certain of what was happening or what was about to happen. But now, she
wasn’t so confident. Nothing was certain, she realized, and that frightened
her.

Within minutes, Aaron had escorted Ashley into the tavern
and secured a room.

They mounted the stairs quietly, each absorbed in thought.
As they entered the room, Ashley went immediately to the window that overlooked
the green. If she could endure it, she planned to watch the battle. She didn’t
want to be a witness to the upheaval, for she suspected that Aaron would be in
the thick of it, but she would have to know that he was safe.

Ashley turned from the window as she heard the door close
and the bolt slip into the lock. Aaron stood in the middle of the room, gazing
at her.

A sob caught in her throat as she realized how easily she
could lose him now. “Oh, Aaron, I’m so frightened,” she whispered.

“I know.”

“If this is a dream, I want it to be over, and for you to be
safe.”

“But it isn’t a dream. What’s about to happen is very real.”

“If I could wish you away—”

“I would not go. I have a commitment to this cause.”

“But what if I never see you again?” She swallowed back
tears.

His eyes met hers, and Ashley died a thousand deaths. She
had callously cast so many men aside in her life. How could this man—this
handsome, magnificent figment of her imagination—have captured her heart so
effortlessly?

“Then you must remember that I have loved you dearly.”

The terrible, lonely ache in her heart told her that her
time with him was growing very short.

After crossing the room, he drew her into his arms and
rested his chin on top of her head. Ashley sighed and closed her eyes,
wondering how she would live without him. “I’m so afraid.”

“There is no need for fear. You will not be harmed.”

“I wish—”

“Shhhh,” he cautioned. “We have only this moment. Let us not
spoil it with tears and regrets.”

“I can’t help it. I wish I knew what was happening to me...I
don’t want to lose you.” She sobbed. “For the first time in my life, I’m in
love, and I’m going to lose you.”

He smiled, holding her closer. “Are you saying, Ashley
Wheeler, that if it were possible, you would be my wife?”

“Oh, Aaron, yes—yes!” Though this dream could end at any
moment, sending her careening back to her real life, knowing he wanted to marry
her meant everything.

“And you would be willing to set aside a day that we would
marry?” he whispered, his breath fanning her hair softly.

Tears slipped down her cheeks as her arms crept about his
waist tighter. "Yes, I would marry you any day, anywhere, anytime you’d
want.”

His mouth inched lower, his breath barely a whisper against
hers. “And if it were possible, we would not delay a moment, my love.”

Her breath came quickly now as his mouth lowered to taste
her lips. Longing seared through her as their mouths slowly came together.
Ashley pressed closer, aware of the flash of blinding heat his touch aroused in
her. For the first time in her life, she wanted to give rather than take. But,
as fate would have it, the man whom she would capture with her love was already
a prisoner of time.

Passion flared to the surface as the kiss deepened. Time was
so short, and Ashley had so much she longed to share with him.

Then sounds of impending battle drifted through the window
to them.

“I must go. The British will be here in minutes, and my
services will be needed,” he murmured.

Ashley suddenly realized that Aaron wouldn’t be carrying a
gun in the battle; he would be a field surgeon in the thick of the battle
without protection. Another sob escaped her, and once it had, others followed
until she buried her face in his chest and wept openly.

“Please, ’tis impossible for me to leave you this way. Send
me off with your kiss, not your tears.”

Ashley clasped his face between her hands and pulled it back
down to hers, pressing her lips against his. The sweetness of good-bye in their
kiss made her want to cling to him all the more.

“I don’t want to live without you, Aaron Kenneman,” she
whispered.

“You will forever be in my heart, my love.”

After tilting her face up to his for one last kiss, Aaron
turned and walked to the door. Over his shoulder, he sent her a smile that
melted her heart. A moment later, the door closed, and she was alone. Dropping
onto the bed, she listened to the scrape of his boots descending the stairway.

A moment later, she rose and crossed to the window to watch
the scurry of activity in the common below. Her hands clasped together in an
unconscious posture of prayer as her eyes searched for Aaron.

From her vantage point, she could hear Captain Parker
ordering the drummer to beat to arms. Militiamen began pouring out of the
tavern and assembled on the green, forming lines that reached from the
meetinghouse toward the south.

Ashley counted approximately seventy men by this time, all
hurrying to take up arms.

Suddenly the sound of the drumbeat quickened. The men in the
common turned to see a line of British regulars marching toward them in brisk
formation.

When the regulars were within sound of the militiamen they
halted, charged their guns, and doubled ranks. Ashley held her breath as she
watched. Knowing that the ultimate victory would belong to the colonists failed
to diminish her fear.

The British began to march in a quick-step toward the green
as Captain Parker sang out his order.

“Stand your ground! Don’t molest the regulars unless they
meddle with us!”

Ashley’s hands came to her mouth as the drama began to
unfold. Her eyes searched desperately for Aaron, but she failed to locate him
anywhere.

The British troops marched straight toward the colonists. A
shout went up, and the regulars paused. The commanding officer advanced a few
yards out front, yelling, “Disperse, you cursed rebels! You dogs! Run!” Raising
his pistol, he shouted, “Rush on, my boys!" A shot rang out, reverberating
throughout the countryside.

The Americans stood at attention, waiting. Silence hung
thick in the air as the British troops started forward again.

“We be hopelessly outnumbered,” militiaman Ebenezer Munroe
murmured to the man standing to his left.

“Aye, this day we die for our country,” Corporal John Munroe
returned gravely. Both men took aim at the main body of the troops and opened
fire.

As a spirited volley of fire was exchanged, Ashley saw Paul
and John dart from the main floor of the tavern carrying the trunk of papers
Hancock had left behind. Smoke was heavy now as the two men slackened their
pace to saunter casually through the American lines with the trunk.

Once clear of the militiamen, they broke into a run as a
volley of gunfire echoed across the green.

“Who’s firing?” John shouted.

“I don’t know, and I don’t plan to take the time to ask!”
Paul exclaimed. Ducking low to the ground, the two ran on.

Ashley closed her eyes, praying for their safety as she
listened to the rapid succession of guns firing back and forth.

“They’re firing nothing but powder!” John Munroe shouted.

“Are you sure?” Ebenezer shouted back.

“No—they’re firing more than powder!" John amended
sourly as he lifted his arm to survey the blood on it a moment later. “I’ll
give them the guts of my gun!”

Ashley watched as the colonists attempted to hold their
ground although they were taking British fire and falling. Some retreated up
the north road and were pursued by a British officer on horseback. As he rode
after them, Ashley could hear him yelling over the sound of musket fire, “Stop,
or you will die!”

One colonist sprang over a pair of bars and made a stand,
firing his gun. The British officer wheeled his horse and returned to the main
group to rejoin the fray.