I woke up suddenly with a known pain on my torso. Wincing as I tried to sit up I found that there was too much throbbing that I decided it would be wise to lie back down. Realization struck in when I looked down to see what caused the pain and saw bandages with dry blood on them.
When I finally gained enough strength to move my head enough to look around I noticed that I was not in a military tent, but in a room of an unknown home. Sitting across from me was a middle-aged man whom was giving me an unblinking glare. Surely he had noticed me awaken; his knuckles were white from how tight he was grabbing his gun that was resting on his lap. I had to suppress a laugh, I remembered that the war was over and we had lost, but I could still scare the colonists by just looking at them.
"If it was up to me," the middle aged man said breaking the silence, "I would have finished you off." His voice was icy, almost threatening, almost.
"Why didn't you?" My mouth was dry and my voice was raspy. Obviously I had been there for a while.
"Because of my niece." He said 'niece' as if he hated that she had the same blood as him, and his voice sounded as if he was regretting his choice to let me live. Smart man.
After staring at each other for a great deal of time my thoughts wandered to Ben Martin and how he had tried to kill me. I was thinking of a way to get revenge when the door opened bringing me back to where I was.
There stood a young woman with long brown hair whom was holding a bowl with cloth hanging over the side of the edges. "Uncle, please keep down your voice. The colonel needs his rest. He lost so much blood, that I am surprised he is still alive!" She had such a sweet sounding voice, and stood up for my well-being and me. "Go back home. It is late and Auntie is getting mad because you have been out here in my cabin."
The man sighed and rose from his chair. "Just so you know Grace, he is awake now." with that said he took one more glance at me and walked out of the room.
I couldn't hold back my laugh any more. "I think he likes me." She smiled a true smile, one I hadn't seen in awhile.
"Don't be offended. He doesn't like anyone who is British or who supported the British." She walked over and set the bowl on a table next to my head. "Before I clean your wound, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Grace Johnson and the, polite, man that was holding the gun was my uncle Kyle Robinson."
"I am…" She cut me off.
"Colonel William Tavington of his majesties Green Dragoons. Yes, I know who you are."
"Then why did you save me? If you know who I am surely you know what I have done."
"Unlike my uncle, I can't stand letting anyone die if they are capable of living no matter what they have done in the past. Besides, you did what you thought would help you win the war. Hopefully you're not that soulless."
"And if I am?"
"Then my thoughts were wrong."
Just as she began to wring one of the cloths, a little boy ran into the room screaming. "Grace! Grace!" He ran in and grabbed a holt of her leg holding on as if it was the only thing that would keep him safe.
"What is it Michael?" She smoothed his hair with her wet hand.
"I'm scared." Grace knelt down to his level to speak to him.
"I have to take care of the Colonel right now. If you can give me just a few more minutes then I can help you."
Michael walked up to the edge of my bed and looked at me, and then when I turned my head to look at him he jumped backwards.
"Michael, please go sit in the chair." He ran and sat in the chair that Mr. Robinson had once occupied. Slowly Grace came back to my side.
"Son?" I asked unsure of any other way to ask.
"Cousin. He belongs to my uncle. I for one do not have any kids, or a husband at that." She moved the sheet that I covered myself up with when I was thinking about Benjamin Martin, but kept the rest of me covered.
"It's a pity you are not married." She was reaching down to remove the bandage when she stopped and looked at me with the brightest green eyes.
"Why do you say that Colonel?"
"Because you are young and beautiful."
She blushed then looked back down at my bandage then going back to work. With out looking up at me she continued our conversation. "Thank you sir but I am 26. I am not that young."
After she had finished cleaning and dressing my wound, with the occasional glance at Michael, I closed my eyes to get some rest. "Come on Michael, he needs his rest."
"Grace, when is Uncle Ed coming back to get you?"
She stopped in her tracks for a second or two before answering, "My father is dead. That's why I am here with you and your family."
"How did he die?"
"He was killed," she sighed slightly, "by The Ghost."
"But the Ghost is Patriot, why did he kill Uncle?"
"Because Uncle and I are Loyalists."
"That's why Mother and Father wont let you eat with us!"
"Lets not talk about this any more. Why don't we get you ready for bed."
"What happens if the man wakes up? I am scared of him."
"I am going to be in the room next to him, and to get to you he has to walk by my room to go outside then into your house. So he will have to get through me first to get to you."
The little boy started laughing as she shut the door. Sleep soon won over me.
I don't know how long I was asleep but the sky was just turning dark. When I looked out of the window I saw her standing there outside grooming the horses. Slowly and painfully I made my way to her outside.
She looked at me once then turned back to the horse and quickly darted her face back at me. With in a few quick steps she grabbed me by my waist carefully avoiding my wound. "What are you doing out of bed?!"
Her voice had a mix of fear and surprise in it. "Am I not allowed to talk to you?" My answer had been clam and showed no sign of the pain I was going through.
"You are allowed," she was laughing a little, "but you need to stay in bed for a little while longer." As we entered the cabin I broke the silence.
"I heard you talking to Michael last night." Her grip on me tightened as she flinched in recollection to what I was talking about.
"What happened to your mother?"
"She died shortly after my birth." She said that with no emotion. How could she have feelings for someone she didn't know? "My father hardly spoke of her."
"So," I desperately wanted to change the subject. "I know more about you than you know about me. Would you like to know anything?"
We had made it back to my bed and she was helping me into the bed when she finally asked me something. "Why did Lord Cornwallis leave you there to die?" I snorted a laugh then decided to answer.
"Probably General O'Hara's idea. He had never liked me. I think it's because of my name…"
"The British left over a month ago. I had been out with my uncle to help him gather muskets, and swords a day after the battle at Cowpens when I saw you."
She sat on the bed beside me and looked me in the eyes. "I knew who you were when I first saw you, you were barely alive and I knew I couldn't let you die. There is just something about you that makes me want to make sure you get back to perfect health."
"Sounds like a crush to me." I sounded more egotistic than I had thought. I had assumed that she would blush but the look in her eyes changed from caring and warm to pure ice.
"My love died with my father." She turned to leave but I caught her by her arm and pulled her back. "Surely you don't mean that." Her face was close to mine, that I could smell her shampoo.
In her eyes I could see her emotions battling one another, trying to beat the other out of her soul. I knew from that moment on, that I held all the cards in my hand.
She stayed there as if frozen in time, then took off running out of my room and outside the house. "This game is going to be fun." I thought to myself before drifting back to sleep just to be awoken by the sound of Mr. Robertson yelling outside.
"I told you!" He said before I heard him slap something. "Your chores come first! Then you can go play doctor to that thing I let you keep in your cabin." Another slap. "You should have had all this finished an hour ago!" Another one. "I should go in there and kill him since he seems to be keeping you from your work!" Again and again I heard a slap. "If your father hadn't been on the wrong side of the war I wouldn't have to be dealing with a wench like you!" More and more slaps were heard. I knew I could do nothing in my present state so I decided to be patient and listen to her when she came in later, then when I was better seek revenge.
After what seemed like an eternity I heard her walking in the cabin and into her room. Immediately I got out of bed and went to her door. Knocking on it gently so I didn't alarm her I made sure she knew it was me. "Grace, open up. It's me."
I heard feet moving in her room for a little bit as if she was contemplating what she was going to do before the door finally opened. I leaned myself against the door frame as she invited me in and sat on her bed.
The sun had set but I could still tell what damage he had done. Her face was covered in a mix of blood and red marks that would turn into bruises in the morning.
I have to admit that my heart did skip a beat when I saw that I had to clench my teeth in anger to keep calm. Even in war I would never hurt my own family member like that. Believe it or not I do have morals that I stick to.
I took a few steps then sat next to her on her bed. "Are you ok?" I finally asked her, I knew she wasn't but I didn't know how else to break the silence. She nodded in response.
"If my father hadn't gotten killed I wouldn't have to suffer this." She pointed to her face. "I hate the Ghost. He made this happen to me. I wish he was the one that was dead and not my father." Her strength was weakening but I could tell that she was not going to let me see her cry.
"I know the feeling." I spoke to her in a soothing voice. "My father used to beat me when I was a child. I thought for years that it was my fault, but finally I realized it wasn't, a few years after that he died and left my family in debt and gave our name a bad reputation. But I am finally away from all of that, I got away and you will too. I will be sure of that."
She looked up at me confused then finally changed the subject. "What are you doing out of your bed?"
I grinned at her. "Here I am trying to be nice and you want to know why I am out of bed? I am fine I assure you, you on the other hand are not, so I am going to change positions." I got up and started walking towards my room to get a bowl of water and some cloth to clean her face. I didn't hear her following behind me.
When I grabbed the bowl she was standing behind me. "I can take care of myself Colonel. You need to get some rest. I have practice cleaning myself up." My jaws were clenched again with the evidence that this was indeed not the first time that he had hit her.
She took the bowl and set it back on the table while using her other hand to nudge me back towards my bed. Grace started wiping down her face, flinching when she would barely touch a fresh wound. At that moment I knew that I was going to make Ben Martin and Kyle Robertson pay for the pain that they has caused her.
When she was finished up she came near me and looked me in the eyes. "Thank you for caring about me, but I am too far gone for anyone to do anymore than what you just did. As soon as you are fully healed I will give you a horse for you to leave on so you can get as far away from here as you can and forget about me. I will take the punishment for the horse." She turned and walked out of my room shutting the door behind her and then finally shutting the door to her room.
Sleep didn't come easy to me as my memory kept flashing back to my father and his beatings, to my imagination of her getting the same punishment that I had endured many years ago, and finally her words. If she had been anyone else I would have taken her 'offer' as quick as possible but knowing that she would go through the same pain I had, I knew I couldn't leave her here. She would come with me as soon as I was able to ride.
Days and days passed by and I got a little better with each one. Every so often she would have a fresh bruise or cut on her and would not tell me what happened, though I already had an idea.
Finally I felt as if I was healed fully and walked in her room to wait for her to come in from her chores. Through my healing process we would talk about our past and out ideas about everything that was happening. We had many things in common and she was a miraculous woman but I would never let her know my feelings. Not then at least.
She came in and shut the door obviously not noticing that I was in her room. "You know," I said as she started to undress. "I could have just stayed like this and took in the view."
Her face turned red as she looked at me. "I am glad you didn't." I walked over and sat down next to her on her bed. "Your wound looks as if its healed. You should be able to leave soon. Tell me when you are ready and I will get your horse ready." Obviously she was going to stick to her word and help me get away, though this time I wasn't the one that was in need of an escape.
"I think I will be ready to leave tomorrow." I answered looking at her face for her reaction. Her facial features showed no emotion but her eyes revealed all. She didn't want me to leave.
"I will saddle one up for you." She started to get up to hide from me but, yet again, I was quicker and pulled her back down.
She was beautiful to me, my guardian angel. The one that would risk her own life to save mine. I know that if I let her slip away from me now I would regret it for the rest of my life. I lightly held her chin as I kissed her lips. "Come with me." I whispered as I drew back. "Please."
She nodded in response and I kissed her again, this time with more passion. I had to break away before I lost control. "Get some rest, we will leave tomorrow at this time." I got up and tucked her hair behind her ear before kissing her forehead and walking out the door. Tomorrow we would get away from this hell.
When I finally gained enough strength to move my head enough to look around I noticed that I was not in a military tent, but in a room of an unknown home. Sitting across from me was a middle-aged man whom was giving me an unblinking glare. Surely he had noticed me awaken; his knuckles were white from how tight he was grabbing his gun that was resting on his lap. I had to suppress a laugh, I remembered that the war was over and we had lost, but I could still scare the colonists by just looking at them.
"If it was up to me," the middle aged man said breaking the silence, "I would have finished you off." His voice was icy, almost threatening, almost.
"Why didn't you?" My mouth was dry and my voice was raspy. Obviously I had been there for a while.
"Because of my niece." He said 'niece' as if he hated that she had the same blood as him, and his voice sounded as if he was regretting his choice to let me live. Smart man.
After staring at each other for a great deal of time my thoughts wandered to Ben Martin and how he had tried to kill me. I was thinking of a way to get revenge when the door opened bringing me back to where I was.
There stood a young woman with long brown hair whom was holding a bowl with cloth hanging over the side of the edges. "Uncle, please keep down your voice. The colonel needs his rest. He lost so much blood, that I am surprised he is still alive!" She had such a sweet sounding voice, and stood up for my well-being and me. "Go back home. It is late and Auntie is getting mad because you have been out here in my cabin."
The man sighed and rose from his chair. "Just so you know Grace, he is awake now." with that said he took one more glance at me and walked out of the room.
I couldn't hold back my laugh any more. "I think he likes me." She smiled a true smile, one I hadn't seen in awhile.
"Don't be offended. He doesn't like anyone who is British or who supported the British." She walked over and set the bowl on a table next to my head. "Before I clean your wound, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Grace Johnson and the, polite, man that was holding the gun was my uncle Kyle Robinson."
"I am…" She cut me off.
"Colonel William Tavington of his majesties Green Dragoons. Yes, I know who you are."
"Then why did you save me? If you know who I am surely you know what I have done."
"Unlike my uncle, I can't stand letting anyone die if they are capable of living no matter what they have done in the past. Besides, you did what you thought would help you win the war. Hopefully you're not that soulless."
"And if I am?"
"Then my thoughts were wrong."
Just as she began to wring one of the cloths, a little boy ran into the room screaming. "Grace! Grace!" He ran in and grabbed a holt of her leg holding on as if it was the only thing that would keep him safe.
"What is it Michael?" She smoothed his hair with her wet hand.
"I'm scared." Grace knelt down to his level to speak to him.
"I have to take care of the Colonel right now. If you can give me just a few more minutes then I can help you."
Michael walked up to the edge of my bed and looked at me, and then when I turned my head to look at him he jumped backwards.
"Michael, please go sit in the chair." He ran and sat in the chair that Mr. Robinson had once occupied. Slowly Grace came back to my side.
"Son?" I asked unsure of any other way to ask.
"Cousin. He belongs to my uncle. I for one do not have any kids, or a husband at that." She moved the sheet that I covered myself up with when I was thinking about Benjamin Martin, but kept the rest of me covered.
"It's a pity you are not married." She was reaching down to remove the bandage when she stopped and looked at me with the brightest green eyes.
"Why do you say that Colonel?"
"Because you are young and beautiful."
She blushed then looked back down at my bandage then going back to work. With out looking up at me she continued our conversation. "Thank you sir but I am 26. I am not that young."
After she had finished cleaning and dressing my wound, with the occasional glance at Michael, I closed my eyes to get some rest. "Come on Michael, he needs his rest."
"Grace, when is Uncle Ed coming back to get you?"
She stopped in her tracks for a second or two before answering, "My father is dead. That's why I am here with you and your family."
"How did he die?"
"He was killed," she sighed slightly, "by The Ghost."
"But the Ghost is Patriot, why did he kill Uncle?"
"Because Uncle and I are Loyalists."
"That's why Mother and Father wont let you eat with us!"
"Lets not talk about this any more. Why don't we get you ready for bed."
"What happens if the man wakes up? I am scared of him."
"I am going to be in the room next to him, and to get to you he has to walk by my room to go outside then into your house. So he will have to get through me first to get to you."
The little boy started laughing as she shut the door. Sleep soon won over me.
I don't know how long I was asleep but the sky was just turning dark. When I looked out of the window I saw her standing there outside grooming the horses. Slowly and painfully I made my way to her outside.
She looked at me once then turned back to the horse and quickly darted her face back at me. With in a few quick steps she grabbed me by my waist carefully avoiding my wound. "What are you doing out of bed?!"
Her voice had a mix of fear and surprise in it. "Am I not allowed to talk to you?" My answer had been clam and showed no sign of the pain I was going through.
"You are allowed," she was laughing a little, "but you need to stay in bed for a little while longer." As we entered the cabin I broke the silence.
"I heard you talking to Michael last night." Her grip on me tightened as she flinched in recollection to what I was talking about.
"What happened to your mother?"
"She died shortly after my birth." She said that with no emotion. How could she have feelings for someone she didn't know? "My father hardly spoke of her."
"So," I desperately wanted to change the subject. "I know more about you than you know about me. Would you like to know anything?"
We had made it back to my bed and she was helping me into the bed when she finally asked me something. "Why did Lord Cornwallis leave you there to die?" I snorted a laugh then decided to answer.
"Probably General O'Hara's idea. He had never liked me. I think it's because of my name…"
"The British left over a month ago. I had been out with my uncle to help him gather muskets, and swords a day after the battle at Cowpens when I saw you."
She sat on the bed beside me and looked me in the eyes. "I knew who you were when I first saw you, you were barely alive and I knew I couldn't let you die. There is just something about you that makes me want to make sure you get back to perfect health."
"Sounds like a crush to me." I sounded more egotistic than I had thought. I had assumed that she would blush but the look in her eyes changed from caring and warm to pure ice.
"My love died with my father." She turned to leave but I caught her by her arm and pulled her back. "Surely you don't mean that." Her face was close to mine, that I could smell her shampoo.
In her eyes I could see her emotions battling one another, trying to beat the other out of her soul. I knew from that moment on, that I held all the cards in my hand.
She stayed there as if frozen in time, then took off running out of my room and outside the house. "This game is going to be fun." I thought to myself before drifting back to sleep just to be awoken by the sound of Mr. Robertson yelling outside.
"I told you!" He said before I heard him slap something. "Your chores come first! Then you can go play doctor to that thing I let you keep in your cabin." Another slap. "You should have had all this finished an hour ago!" Another one. "I should go in there and kill him since he seems to be keeping you from your work!" Again and again I heard a slap. "If your father hadn't been on the wrong side of the war I wouldn't have to be dealing with a wench like you!" More and more slaps were heard. I knew I could do nothing in my present state so I decided to be patient and listen to her when she came in later, then when I was better seek revenge.
After what seemed like an eternity I heard her walking in the cabin and into her room. Immediately I got out of bed and went to her door. Knocking on it gently so I didn't alarm her I made sure she knew it was me. "Grace, open up. It's me."
I heard feet moving in her room for a little bit as if she was contemplating what she was going to do before the door finally opened. I leaned myself against the door frame as she invited me in and sat on her bed.
The sun had set but I could still tell what damage he had done. Her face was covered in a mix of blood and red marks that would turn into bruises in the morning.
I have to admit that my heart did skip a beat when I saw that I had to clench my teeth in anger to keep calm. Even in war I would never hurt my own family member like that. Believe it or not I do have morals that I stick to.
I took a few steps then sat next to her on her bed. "Are you ok?" I finally asked her, I knew she wasn't but I didn't know how else to break the silence. She nodded in response.
"If my father hadn't gotten killed I wouldn't have to suffer this." She pointed to her face. "I hate the Ghost. He made this happen to me. I wish he was the one that was dead and not my father." Her strength was weakening but I could tell that she was not going to let me see her cry.
"I know the feeling." I spoke to her in a soothing voice. "My father used to beat me when I was a child. I thought for years that it was my fault, but finally I realized it wasn't, a few years after that he died and left my family in debt and gave our name a bad reputation. But I am finally away from all of that, I got away and you will too. I will be sure of that."
She looked up at me confused then finally changed the subject. "What are you doing out of your bed?"
I grinned at her. "Here I am trying to be nice and you want to know why I am out of bed? I am fine I assure you, you on the other hand are not, so I am going to change positions." I got up and started walking towards my room to get a bowl of water and some cloth to clean her face. I didn't hear her following behind me.
When I grabbed the bowl she was standing behind me. "I can take care of myself Colonel. You need to get some rest. I have practice cleaning myself up." My jaws were clenched again with the evidence that this was indeed not the first time that he had hit her.
She took the bowl and set it back on the table while using her other hand to nudge me back towards my bed. Grace started wiping down her face, flinching when she would barely touch a fresh wound. At that moment I knew that I was going to make Ben Martin and Kyle Robertson pay for the pain that they has caused her.
When she was finished up she came near me and looked me in the eyes. "Thank you for caring about me, but I am too far gone for anyone to do anymore than what you just did. As soon as you are fully healed I will give you a horse for you to leave on so you can get as far away from here as you can and forget about me. I will take the punishment for the horse." She turned and walked out of my room shutting the door behind her and then finally shutting the door to her room.
Sleep didn't come easy to me as my memory kept flashing back to my father and his beatings, to my imagination of her getting the same punishment that I had endured many years ago, and finally her words. If she had been anyone else I would have taken her 'offer' as quick as possible but knowing that she would go through the same pain I had, I knew I couldn't leave her here. She would come with me as soon as I was able to ride.
Days and days passed by and I got a little better with each one. Every so often she would have a fresh bruise or cut on her and would not tell me what happened, though I already had an idea.
Finally I felt as if I was healed fully and walked in her room to wait for her to come in from her chores. Through my healing process we would talk about our past and out ideas about everything that was happening. We had many things in common and she was a miraculous woman but I would never let her know my feelings. Not then at least.
She came in and shut the door obviously not noticing that I was in her room. "You know," I said as she started to undress. "I could have just stayed like this and took in the view."
Her face turned red as she looked at me. "I am glad you didn't." I walked over and sat down next to her on her bed. "Your wound looks as if its healed. You should be able to leave soon. Tell me when you are ready and I will get your horse ready." Obviously she was going to stick to her word and help me get away, though this time I wasn't the one that was in need of an escape.
"I think I will be ready to leave tomorrow." I answered looking at her face for her reaction. Her facial features showed no emotion but her eyes revealed all. She didn't want me to leave.
"I will saddle one up for you." She started to get up to hide from me but, yet again, I was quicker and pulled her back down.
She was beautiful to me, my guardian angel. The one that would risk her own life to save mine. I know that if I let her slip away from me now I would regret it for the rest of my life. I lightly held her chin as I kissed her lips. "Come with me." I whispered as I drew back. "Please."
She nodded in response and I kissed her again, this time with more passion. I had to break away before I lost control. "Get some rest, we will leave tomorrow at this time." I got up and tucked her hair behind her ear before kissing her forehead and walking out the door. Tomorrow we would get away from this hell.