Paper Woman: A Mystery of the American Revolution (15 page)

"Major
Hunt."

She wrapped the
herbs and stood.
 
"He's halfway to
England in his heart by now.
 
I'm sure
he cannot leave Alton soon enough."

"I wish I
could agree with you."
 
Gaiety
abandoned his face.

She
swallowed.
 
"Whatever do you
mean?"

"It's what
he said to me this morning after Jonah's funeral.
 
He apologized for not knowing your whereabouts, or being there
last night when Fairfax failed to apprehend your 'abductor', or treating you
with the utmost delicacy and consideration after you'd served King George in
the highest capacity by breaking the cipher.
 
It was almost like watching a Catholic flog himself.
 
He was quite sincere.
 
He's in love with you, Sophie."

Frowning, she
scratched at her temple, distressed that she seemed to have to choose between
Edward and family honor, even after Will was dead.
 
Was this about family honor?
 
Was she being a naïve fool?
 
Perhaps Edward did love her, but when was the last time she'd felt
that Will had loved her?
 
"Shall I
become his mistress just because he loves me?
 
I'm not responsible for making him feel better."

"No,
that's not what I meant."
 
David
gnawed his lower lip.
 
"I've a
peculiar feeling about him.
 
He may be a
mediocre soldier, but he possesses great tenacity and determination."

"A
statesman, then.
 
He'll do well in
Parliament."

"There's
one more thing I must say.
 
Mathias is
right.
 
This is a fool's journey.
 
If you knew what's out there in the
wilderness, you'd stay here."
 
His
cheeks paled.
 
"By all the gods on
Olympus,
I'd
really rather not be going.
 
I'm not tagging along for some visceral delights I imagine at a
card table in East Florida or Cuba.
 
I'm
in because you're my sister.
 
So think
hard about staying here."

Her resolve
never wavered.
 
"I'm going."

"Damn, I
knew you'd say that."

"
Bonjour
!"
 
Jacques sauntered into their midst bearing a
bundle of fabric.
 
"Or should I say
Buenos días
?
 
For you,
belle
Sophie."
 
He lobbed her the bundle:
two pairs of trousers and two hunting shirts with a brimmed hat sandwiched
between.
 
"All we lack now is that
rascal, MacVie, with the rest of the staples."

"Thank
you, Uncle Jacques."
 
She hugged
the clothing to her chest.
 
"What
do I owe you — Ow!"
 
David had
stepped on her foot.

A leer
glittered in the Frenchman's eyes.
 
"
Payment
?
 
You wish
to discuss
payment
?
 
I am always
willing to discuss
payment
when lovely ladies believe themselves in my
debt."

David's
"I-told-you-so" expression backed her toward the hut.
 
"Never mind.
 
I shall go change now."
 
She entered and shut the door.

Outside, she
heard Jacques: "I stand ready to assist you, should you need help with the
trousers."

Chapter Eleven

"TWO
O'CLOCK."
 
DAVID pocketed his
watch.

Hairs escaping
from Sophie's plait tickled her sweaty neck, suggestive of mosquitoes.
 
"Where is that blasted hog
farmer?"

Jacques tapped
his overturned pipe in his palm.
 
"This little piggy went to market, this little piggy ran
home."

"Squealing
'wee, wee, wee' all the way home while being shot through with Creek arrows —
ah, at last."
 
Sophie exhaled
relief.
 
MacVie approached leading his
horse laden with sacks of deer jerky and dried fruit.
 
Mathias, accompanied by Runs With Horses and his similarly
tattooed younger brother, Standing Wolf, followed with their horses.

The quartet
halted before the hut, MacVie glum.
 
Mathias said, "My cousins and I are going with you."
 
He brushed past Sophie and began loading
gear on his horse.

"Thank
you."
 
She sidestepped to tug once
on the blacksmith's plait of long, dark hair.
 
"
All
of you."

"I gave my
word."
 
Expression dour, he secured
his bedroll.

"But if
you don't dispose of that conservative countenance, I shall leave you
behind."

Smug humor
enlivened the Creek brothers' faces.
 
Mathias regarded her for a few seconds before his expression softened,
and a smile relaxed his lips.

The seven
distributed the load of gear and supplies among the horses.
 
Sophie removed her hat to drape her
haversack and cartridge box over her shoulders.
 
"Mr. MacVie, show us where you believe El Serpiente camped
last night.
 
North of here, you
said."
 
She replaced the hat and
took up Samson's reins and the spare musket.
 
Since MacVie had little incentive for honesty, what he showed them in
the remaining six hours of daylight could reveal much about the rebels' motives
and schemes.

They mounted
their horses, a subdued MacVie in the lead, Sophie riding between David and
Mathias.
 
Once she glanced behind, but
by then, the forest had already swallowed the Creek village.
 
A nameless something called to her from
beyond her conflict, a siren that she sensed had little to do with family honor
or a nobleman's affections but much to do with her own soul.
 
A piece of herself waited out there,
ahead.
 
The thought of a summons
wielding such power frightened her a little, but she knew she couldn't rest
until she found it.

***

Late afternoon,
they crossed Butlers Creek west of Augusta and found remnants of a recent
campsite.
 
Evidence of three people with
horses included broken twigs, churned ground, and human and horse turds.
 
Antsy, MacVie gestured around.
 
"The Spaniard and his two allies camped
here yesterday to mislead pursuit.
 
Let's go back to Alton before we chance on them."

Mathias rose
from an examination of hoof prints, motioned Sophie, Jacques, and David to him,
and said, low, "The trio headed south.
 
If El Serpiente continued on to St. Augustine without delay, he'd be in
the swamps near Briar Creek tonight."

About thirty
miles south-southwest of Augusta.
 
Sophie regarded him.
 
"When
is our earliest chance to overtake them?"

"Probably
two days hence, near where Briar Creek meets the Savannah."
 
Mathias's attention shifted to MacVie, who'd
slunk closer, and the four of them turned to glare at the rebel.

MacVie spread
his hands to encompass the abandoned campsite.
 
"You asked me where they camped last night.
 
Here it is.
 
Don't you trust me now?"

Sophie propped
her fists on her hips.
 
"Not even
as far as we can throw you."

Anger trapped his
tongue a moment.
 
"Someone —
someone needs to put you in your place!"

"Watch
your mouth, MacVie."
 
David took a
step forward, Mathias at his side.

"Gentlemen,
please."
 
Through the shield
created by her brother and the blacksmith, she stared down the farmer, hoping
he couldn't tell how he frightened her.
 
"Mr. MacVie, have you any idea who are El Serpiente's
accomplices?"

"Two men
from Boston.
 
Friends of John
Adams."

The more he
talked, the less sense he made.
 
Why
would two friends of John Adams take up with a Spaniard who'd killed a fellow
rebel?
 
When would they get the truth
from MacVie?

David snapped,
"What are their names?
 
Did you
meet them?"
 
MacVie shrugged
again.
 
David shook his head and looked
at Sophie.
 
"Let's intercept the
Spaniard quickly.
 
The mosquitoes
haven't fancied me yet, but I'm not fond of the idea of giving them several
days to change their minds."
 
Sophie, Mathias, and Jacques agreed.
 
MacVie scoffed at all of them.

An hour later,
a couple miles west of New Savannah and the postal road, they stopped for the
night in a pine-scented dell.
 
Mathias,
Runs With Horses, and Standing Wolf vanished into the forest with bows and
arrows as soon as they'd unsaddled, rubbed down, and picketed their horses.
 
Sophie performed the same tasks for Samson,
then helped clear the site.
 
They'd seen
no pursuit, but they'd be cautious and build just enough of a campfire to cook
supper.
 
A pity she couldn't have the
sanctuary of wood smoke.
 
Although bird
and cricket nocturnes filled the vicinity, so did the less-welcome whine of
mosquitoes.

Standing Wolf
dropped off three writhing, large-mouthed bass.
 
Sophie dressed the fish and skewered them on green willow
wands.
 
Into the aromas of fried
johnnycakes and roasting fish, the hunters returned with seven rabbits between
them and the reassurance that the party hadn't been pursued.

By the time
night tangled the forest in a turgid blanket, little remained of the rabbits
and fish but bones.
 
Jacques knapped the
flint on his musket.
 
David prodded the
coals with a stick.
 
Moths waltzed low,
singed in the heat yet lusting for light.
 
Fireflies flitted at the boundary of night, and pink heat lightning
pulsed the sky.
 
In the distance, an owl
hooted, and some small critter emitted a scream of mortality.

MacVie stashed
his pipe away, heaved himself up, and belched.
 
"I got the first watch.
 
You
with me, Jacques?"

Standing Wolf
came to his feet.
 
"
I
will
join you."

MacVie's tone
soured.
 
"Whatever delights your
heart."
 
He stomped off into the
brush.
 
Standing Wolf slipped into the
foliage after him.

Half a minute
later came MacVie's cry of astonishment.
 
"Aaaach!
 
What do you think
you're doing, interrupting Sir Reverence by sneaking up on me?
 
I got enough trouble making it happen
without the comfort of me own jakes.
 
Begone, you tattooed whoreson, or I'll give you a face full of it!"

Belly laughter
rocketed around the campfire.
 
MacVie
certainly wasn't concealing his resentment.

***

A hand prodding
her shoulder awakened her to pre-dawn coolness amid the pewtery glow of starlit
forest and the stink of rancid bear grease.
 
The whisper from a crouched shadow belonged to Mathias.
 
"We must move on.
 
We've company out there."

All thought of
sleep vanquished, she sat.
 
David and
Jacques shuffled bedrolls together, and two grease-slathered shadows murmured
among the horses.
 
"Where?
 
Do they know we're here?"

"Camped a
mile away, just off the postal road.
 
A
party of a half-dozen civilian men.
 
They don't know we're here yet."

"Good."
 
She indicated the snoring MacVie.
 
"A connection?"

Mathias
grunted.
 
"I recommend that we
don't wake him until the last second.
 
Maintain silence all the way to breakfast."

She groped for
her shoes and smiled without mirth.
 
"Let's tell him we're being tracked by redcoats."

"I'm
expecting that development, too.
 
The
Fates are fickle, especially in the forest."

He moved away
on moccasin feet.
 
With a swivel up to
her knees, she smoothed out blankets and assembled the bedroll.
 
Then she saddled Samson and loaded her gear.

Fearful of
being nabbed by soldiers, MacVie fumbled his bedroll together in haste after
being awakened.
 
The party mounted
horses and resumed the journey southbound.
 
With Runs With Horses in the lead, Standing Wolf and Mathias melted into
night to create a false trail, rejoining the group twenty minutes later.
 
Mosquitoes bombarded Sophie's hands, face,
and neck.
 
Irritated to be the only one
under attack, she considered slathering on some of the Indians' bear grease.

They paused at
seven Tuesday morning for deer jerky and dried pears before paralleling the
Savannah River and the postal road by a mile to the west.
 
The rolling hinterland made the going slow
and fatigued the horses.