Author's Note: I hope y'all are read for a couple of the longest filler chapters in existence. No, seriously, this chapter was so long the website couldn't handle it and I had to separate it into two chapters... I apologize in advance, but on the bright side, I'm gonna wrap up this nervous breakdown subplot.
They had only been riding for half an hour, but now their pace had already slowed to a near standstill.
"Why are we stopping?" Molly called out. Ben was riding ahead of her, leading the way. He had fully stopped his horse and she rode up beside him. It was too dark to fully see him, but she could tell he was breathing heavily and swaying slightly in his saddle. "Hey, what's wrong?"
He weakly waved her off, "I just need a minute."
"Maybe this was a bad idea." She had said the same thing back the cabin.
She had said that it may be a mistake for them to travel so quickly after Ben was injured. They needed to get to the camp, yes, but Ben had been adamant that they should get there as quickly as possible.
They had been riding hard for the last half an hour, and Molly knew how much her abdomen ached from keeping her balance. She couldn't imagine what the ride was doing to Ben's wound.
"No, I'm fine." he insisted. She didn't believe him.
If she knew anything, she knew how Ben always downplayed his injuries. He had been doing it since they were children. She remembered when she was eleven and he was nine, and he didn't tell anyone that he had broken his finger. No one found out for nearly four days.
Before she could try to protest, he slumped forward and collapsed off his horse.
"Ben!" she exclaimed, quickly dismounting.
She hurried over to him. He was still conscious, but he was struggling to push himself into a seated position. She was grunting in pain and he had a hand pressed firmly against his injured side. Now that they were closer, she could see him better, and she could see that his face was flushed, and he was covered in a think sheen of sweat. She put a hand to his cheek and winced; he had a fever.
"Come here." She said.
He kept trying to say something, but all that came out was incoherent mumbles. He ended up staying on his back, propping himself up at his elbows. He didn't fight her; he let her undo the buttons on his coat. He shivered slightly under her touch when he felt her fingers working to undo the buttons on his shirt. He could feel them brushing his skin.
He blinked tiredly and looked down, watching her hands as she unwound the dressings wrapped around his abdomen.
As soon as the wound was revealed, she began to examine the injury. She had to admit, she had done a good job sewing it shut. She prodded the skin, and he quietly groaned, wincing from the pain. However, no matter what she did, there was no blood, and there didn't appear to be any other injuries on him. But she didn't know that for certain; she was no doctor.
"I think you need a doctor." She finally said.
"No time." He croaked.
"No, that's the thing. I sewed you up, but I don't how hurt you actually are." She paused. "I don't know what's wrong. We have to find a doctor."
He reached out grabbed her forearm. "We can't."
"Why not?"
He screwed his eyes shut for a moment; his teeth were gritted from the pain.
"Do you know where we are?" he asked.
She shook her head.
He swallowed, "Listen, New Jersey isn't like back home. We have control of it, but by no means does that mean that the people agree with us. A lot of them do, but there are plenty of towns all over the colony that are still Tory controlled. And I guarantee, if we were to go traipsing into a town, they may very well turn us over to the British. Or if they're feeling particularly friendly, they might just kill us." Sarcasm was dripping from his tone.
She nodded slowly in response, but she didn't understand why he was so caught up on that fact. What does it matter? She thought. It's not like he's in uniform.
"Then tell me what to do." She said.
"Molly–"
"We can't go the rest of the way like this. I don't think you'll make it." A beat, "Tell me what to do."
She could feel his eyes scanning her body, and she suddenly felt self-conscious.
They were still in the woods, but they had managed to walk a few miles from where Ben had fallen from his horse. They found the main road and began to follow it to the next township over, to gain some distance from Princeton and, hopefully, evade Lieutenant Gamble.
After some discussion, Ben had finally told her what to do: She left him in the woods while she snuck into town and stole a dress from a laundry line. If they were going to avoid suspicion, Ben had said, then they needed to appear as if they had simply been attacked. If Molly was dressed in men's clothing, it would raise too many questions.
And now she had returned to him, and she was quickly changing into the stolen dress. Ben stood beside their horses, leaning his weight against the animals to steady himself.
"Do you have to watch me?" she blurted.
"It's nothing I haven't seen before." He mimicked what she had said back at the cabin.
She paused, still half naked, and glanced over at him. He had a satisfied grin on his face. She knew he was trying to lighten the mood, and maybe if he wasn't injured, she might've laughed. But not this time. Regardless, she was glad to see he was in better spirits, even if it was at her expense.
"You're not funny." She lied, beginning to tie the laces up the front of the corset. She was struggling though. The dress was far too tight, but it was the only one she had dared to take. It was more of a nightdress than a real dress, but she figured it would do well enough. A night dress was less likely to be missed… or recognized.
He noticed her struggling because he said, "Come here."
She rolled her eyed slightly, still feeling self-conscious, but she complied. He shifted his weight partially against her when she stood in front of him.
It was an awkward arrangement, but all in all, Ben held the two sides of the corset together, giving Molly enough room to finish lacing it all together. When it was finished, he let go of the fabric and she grunted in discomfort as the corset constricted her upper body. She was extremely uncomfortable, but at least the dress would hide the obvious fact that her corset was too small for her frame.
"Alright," she said once she'd finished fully dressing.
Ben's plan was simple: they would wander into the nearest township and pretend to be a Tory couple fleeing from rebels. They would say they were attacked, but they managed to escape, and that was why Ben was shot.
He gave Molly the freedom to fill in any smaller details as they came up. He still remembered the way she had lied to Lieutenant Gamble. He decided she would be more convincing than he ever could be.
"Ready?" she asked.
He nodded. They each took their horse's reigns in their hands. Ben slung an arm over Molly's shoulder, and she wrapped an arm around his torso. And they began their slow pace out of the woods and into the township.
"Help! We need help!"
Molly's voice echoed through the night as they began to wander into the center of the nearest town. It didn't take long for a local man to hurry out of his house; he was middle-aged with a short beard, and his clothing was baggy and clearly only recently thrown on.
"Please, we need help!" Molly could hear the strain in her voice.
The man hurried over and helped keep Ben on his feet. They stopped briefly as the man had Ben arm slung over one of his shoulder and Molly moved to grab the reins to both of their horses.
"What in God's name has happened to you two?" he asked. He had a thick Irish accent.
"The rebels," Molly breathed, "they attacked us."
"Those damned bastards!" The man swore, "Come on, this way."
He nodded, gesturing for them both to keep pace with him. He led them across the small town center to a smallish building. There was a sign out front, but Molly could not make out the lettering. It didn't matter though; she knew who the man was taking them too. The local began pounding on the door.
"Giles! Quickly! There's been an accident!" the man boomed.
After a couple minutes, Molly saw one of the windows become illuminated by candlelight, and then she heard shuffling behind the door. The door swung open and a handsome young man stood there. He looked to be about Ben's age. The man – Giles – stood there topless; his hair was unkempt, and he was rushing to pull a shirt over his head.
"Yes?" he asked, his voice hoarse from sleep. "Yes?"
"Patient for you." The local man said, "Here." He turned and gestured for Molly to help keep Ben upright. "I'll move your animals round back." They made the exchange quickly. Molly and Giles helped Ben into the building while the local man vanished with the horses.
"What's happened?"
"I've been shot." Ben said.
"Aye," Molly nodded.
"This way." Giles instructed,
The building was small. To one side of the room, a door led to a bedroom. The rest of the space was open, more or less, and there were two tables. One was covered in papers and a few dishes, the other was empty. He led them to the empty one, and he had Ben lay down on it. He motioned for Molly to grab a nearby candle to provide him with light.
"Where is it?"
"Here?" Ben said, lifting his shirt.
Giles helped love the fabric aside and began to examine the wound. He paused when he noticed the stitching.
"Who did this?" he asked.
Molly spoke up, "I did."
"Then, I'm sorry I have to do this." He muttered under his breath. He moved to a nearby desk and rifled through one of the drawers. He returned after a moment with a small bag of medical instruments and a bottle of rum. "Drink." He said, handing Ben the bottle. Ben complied.
Molly stood there, holding the candle in her hand, unsure of what to make of everything. She didn't know what he meant. Before she could ask any questions, the local man returned from outside.
"I brought the animals to John's yard. He won't mind. I'll tell him later." The man said, joining then beside the table. "So what are we doing here?" He was addressing Giles.
Giles waved his hand and took the bottle back from Ben. Ben had managed to drink over half of the bottle; he was blinking repeatedly, and he hiccupped slightly. Molly could tell he was already slightly tipsy.
"I need you to hold him down." Giles said.
"W-What?" Molly's voice broke through. She knew she had no business questioning the doctor, but she was also skeptical. She was always skeptical when she didn't have control in situations.
Giles waved her off, "It's fine ma'am, just keep that light high for us."
Before Molly could say anything else, the local man pushed Ben down so that he was lying on his back and he held him down by the shoulders. And then Giles had a surgical knife in his hands, and he began to slice away all of Molly's stitch work. Ben cried out in pain and struggled slightly, but the local man kept him down.
Molly winced, her mouth agape in shock and uncertainty as she watched Giles widen Ben's bullet injury. Then he took a pair of forceps and began to dig around in the newly exposed flesh. The entire thing lasted only a couple of minutes, and then Giles lifted the forceps from Ben's newly bloodied abdomen. She felt the blood drain from her face. Between the tongs was a small metal fragment.
Her mind began racing, trying to think back to when she removed the bullet in the cabin. And she was trying to think, but she couldn't remember ever examining the bullet she removed. She had been too on edge. She had just assumed she had gotten out the bullet all in one piece. But now it seemed that her work had been in vain, her sewing had been in vain, because Ben had been walking around with bullet fragments still in his abdomen. She might as well have missed the whole blasted bullet.
"You want to sew him up again?"
Molly blinked; it took her a moment to comprehend the comment.
"I-I suppose." She stuttered.
He produced a thread and needle from the medical pouch and handed it to her.
"You still need me?" the local man asked.
Although he wasn't talking to her, Molly answered anyway, "No, we'll be okay… Thank you."
Molly could hear the man and Giles speaking in hushed tones near her. She could've eavesdropped easily, but she didn't want to. She was beside Ben now. She laid the candle down on the table beside him. His eyes were closed, but he was tiredly fidgeting.
"Hey." She whispered, running a hand through his hair. He was still pale, and his skin was damp with sweat. "I think you're okay now."
She kept whispering as she went to sew up his wound. She knew most of what she was saying didn't make any sense, but she kept talking anyway. It seemed to calm him down, because he didn't move away from her as she moved the needle through his skin.
She knew her voice was shaking, just like her hands were. In fact, her entire body was trembling. She had nearly finished when she realized that someone was looking over her shoulder. She turned and Giles was standing there. He was eyeing her hands.
"You alright there?" he asked.
"Aye." She stammered. She paused, not exactly sure what to say next. For the first time in a long time, she felt clueless. "We can't pay you. We don't have any money."
Giles shrugged, "Let's not discuss that now." He slowly took the needle and thread from her. She stood there, watching his hands work as he finished sewing up the wound. "How did it happen? Mr. Yancy said you mentioned the rebels."
"Aye. A few soldiers came to our home demanding supplies. When we refused, they took them by force, burnt down our home. We managed to escape, but not before they shot my husband." Molly scared herself sometimes; it was so easy for her to lie; it had always been like that for her.
Giles was now using a damp cloth to clean up the blood on Ben's torso. Ben had stopped fidgeting, and his breathing had slowed. He was asleep.
The doctor finished his work quietly, not intending to continue the discussion. Molly didn't want to say anything either. She felt embarrassed, and she knew she was blushing. She was convinced that she had nearly killed Ben. For God's sake, she hadn't even considered checking to ensure the bullet came out in one piece.
She was watching the doctor, but she wasn't comprehending anything anymore. She kept thinking about that night; finding him in the woods. She remembered how on edge she was from those men she had killed, and then Ben was there, and she didn't know what to make of it. And there was blood everywhere, after she felt like she had just cleaned so much blood off her hands, and then Ben's blood was on her. And she couldn't seem to make her hands stop shaking, and she remembered praying, and although she wanted to mean what she was saying, the words were just something to keep the silence away. To keep her sane, to keep –
"You alright?"
She jumped at the sudden voice. The doctor, Giles, was still stood beside her, but he was staring at her now. He is handsome, she thought fleetingly.
"Are you alright?" the man asked again.
"No." Her voice was strained, and that's when she recognized the tightness in her throat, and she realized she was crying.
Giles said nothing as he handed her Ben's half-finished bottle of rum. She didn't hesitate, she lifted it to her lips and began to gulp down the liquid. It didn't help though. Even after she finished the bottle, her hands were still shaking.
She didn't even know it until she was already laying down, but Giles had led her over to the side bedroom, and he made her lay down. When he pulled the blankets over her and after he'd left the room, she knew was sleeping in his bed. And she wanted to thank him for his kindness. But even those thoughts were quickly lost to her, and she closed her eyes and fell asleep.
Ben woke up groaning the next morning. His side burned with pain and his head ached with a hangover. He moved his head from side to side, trying to remembered what had happened. He blinked and saw the man from last night hovering over him. He was struggling to remember his name.
"Easy there." The man said, examining his wound. "We patched you up good enough. Seems your lady forgot to remove that bullet from you." He chuckled slightly, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work though.
"Thank you." Ben's voice was raspy, and he coughed, trying to clear his throat. "Where are we?"
"Franklin Township."
So they were still in New Jersey, and even closer to Middlebrook than before. They only needed to ride for a few more hours to reach the campsite.
"Your lady says yous was attacked by the rebels." The doctor had a strange accent. He was clearly educated enough to be a doctor, but he didn't sound educated when he spoke. His sentences were riddled with slang.
"Yes, we were."
"You got a name?"
"Um, Benjamin Brewster." Caleb's name was the first one that came to him.
They shook hands.
"Giles Bailey." The doctor said.
"My wife's name is Molly." Ben paused, "Where is she?"
"Still sleeping. She was pretty distressed after last night." He shrugged, "You know how women are."
Ben felt himself tense. He had never liked when other men said things like that. He had known Molly a long time; he knew better than to reduce her to some hysterical creature. He said nothing though.
"I gave her my bed." Giles continued. "Seemed impolite to give her the other table."
He wasn't sure how to respond, but luckily, he didn't have to.
"Hungry?" Giles asked.
He nodded and then the doctor was helping him to his feet.
They had been in the Franklin Township for three days.
With each passing day, Ben was becoming more anxious about the prospect of Gamble discovering them. He knew they still couldn't travel though. His injury was now healing all over again, but it was different this time. Ben knew his health was improving each day. In fact, his stomach had started itching as the skin around his wound reknitted itself together.
His anxiousness was nothing compared to Molly's though. Dr. Giles Bailey was good enough company, but from the first second they could speak privately, Molly had voiced her distrust towards him. She didn't seem to trust anyone but Ben these days. He noticed how she always seemed to be looking over her shoulder. She was jumpy and quiet and still in the same mood she had been when he woke up in that cabin.
Something was wrong, it was still wrong, but they hardly had time to speak alone. So, Ben couldn't directly ask her about it. So, he said nothing.
The next morning, in the earliest hours of the morning, Ben was startled awake. Molly was beside him in the bed, her back turned towards him. When he was blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he realized that she was trembling.
"Moll?"
He lightly coughed, his throat was dry. She shifted beside him and pressed her face into one of the pillows. He laid there for a moment, completely still. He could feel the mattress shaking with her heavy breathing. His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion and he pushed himself on his uninjured side so that he could face her.
"Are you crying?"
He reached out uncertainly and put a hand on her back. She flinched and tried to pull away. He winced when he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against him. She shifted again so that she was facing him now, and she buried her face into his chest, clinging to him.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
She didn't answer. The longer they laid like that, the more controlled her breathing became.
"Was it a nightmare?"
Still no answer.
"I have them too… I have them a lot, actually…"
A beat.
"It's going to be okay. We just need to get to camp."
"What if we don't?"
She finally spoke up, but her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Don't do what?"
"Go to camp." She shifted again, and although the room was dark, he knew she was looking him in the face. "What's the point of all this?" A beat. "Let's go away. Let's just leave."
He scoffed, but it was more from disbelief than amusement. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"You don't mean that."
"But what if I do?"
She wants to give up? He thought. She wants to abandon all our principles. All our hard work.
"And do what?" He swallowed. "Run away?"
She didn't answer, and that's when he knew she was very much serious.
"Where is this coming from?"
He felt her shrug against him.
"Do you want to do it?" her voice sounded more determined now.
"Of course not! We can't just leave. What about the cause?"
"What about it?"
And that's when he understood: She was a much different person than the one he left behind last time he visited Setauket. They had said no more secrets, but he was certain she had not been truly honest with him. He had no doubt that she had left Setauket for a good reason, but he had no idea what that reason was.
So he was now stuck wondering, What happened back home?
They left Franklin Township by the end of the week.
Molly was hurrying to keep up with Ben's pace.
By morning, they had reached the Continental Army. After leaving their horses with a lower-ranking soldier, Ben had set his sights on locating where his tent had been set up. If she had been more familiar with the camp, she would have been able to keep up better. But she kept stumbling as she paused to take in her surroundings.
When they arrived in Middlebrook, the army had not been there very long, and the camp was still being assembled. Soldiers and camp followers alike were rushing around camp. Some were unloading the baggage trains, others were delivering belongings to the appropriate tents, tents were being still being pitched, and so on. It was organized, but it also looked like complete chaos.
She was in a much better mood than she was the other night, and she could tell that Ben was relieved by it. She still felt strange though. What she said, about leaving everything behind, she had half meant it. But now, in that moment, she felt silly for meaning it.
They had talked much during their ride into camp, but now Ben had gone quiet. She understood though. Ever since what happened the other night, things were different between them. Whenever he touched her, she involuntary shivered, and sometimes he would look at her a certain way, and she'd just have to bite the inside of her cheek and look away because she couldn't contain her smile. She felt silly; like a giddy child; but she just couldn't contain herself. She suspected he was experiencing the same feelings, but they hadn't talked about it.
Finally, Ben approached a tent and beckoned for her to follow him inside. When they entered, Molly found a grin spreading across her face. In the tent was Caleb Brewster. Another soldier was with him; they appeared to be delivering furniture to the tent. When he caught sight of them, Caleb nearly dropped what he was carrying.
"Caleb!"
"Molly Strong? Is that you?" he laughed. He shooed the other soldier out of the tent and then quickly crossed the space and pulled her into a hug. He pushed her away and held her at arms' length, "You look dreadful." He teased. "Last we heard, Woody said you'd run off to the city."
She lowered her voice, "Aye, Mary Woodhull is not given the credit she deserves."
"Neither are you." He pulled her into another hug. "Oi, what's happened to you, Benny-boy? You look terrible too."
They were still hugging, but she turned her head to look at Ben. Her smile faded. Caleb wasn't wrong; Ben did look terrible. His desk was already in the tent, and he leaned his weight against it. He was pale and his skin appeared to be clammy.
Molly knew it was from their ride into camp. He was still healing, and the jostling from their horse ride did his wound no favors.
"Hey, come here." She said quietly.
He didn't fight her, and he let her guide him over to the bed.
"What's wrong with Tall-boy?" Caleb asked.
Molly could hear the concern in his voice. She waved him off. As soon as Ben was seated on the cot, he winced, and she noticed he pressed his hand to his side where his bullet wound was.
She could feel Caleb hovering behind her. He said nothing though, but he watched as Molly helped Ben out of his coat and as her fingers worked to unbutton his shirt. Ben blinked tiredly and looked down, watching Molly's hands as she unwound the dressings wrapped around his abdomen.
"Shite." She heard Caleb whispered behind her when the wound was revealed.
She began to examine the injury. She prodded the skin, and he quietly groaned above her. But there was no change; it was the same as when they left Franklin Township.
She looked up at took his face in her hands. "Hey," She whispered, "You just need rest." He tried to respond, but it came out as an incoherent mumble. She shushed him. "Come on." He let her push him back, so that he was laying down on his cot. He continued mumbling for a moment, but then he stopped, and his breathing slowed. He was asleep.
She glanced over her shoulder at Caleb; he was silently watching her.
"Is he going to be alright, Moll?" he asked, his voice shaking.
She nodded and began rebuttoning Ben's shirt, then she let him sleep.
"He's going to be fine." She looked at her friend again. She felt tired all of a sudden. "Oh, do I have a story to tell you."
A big grin spread across his face, "You hungry?"
She didn't hesitate to answer yes. Although she was exhausted, she didn't feel like sleeping. Her stomach was growling, and she was now anxious to explore the camp.
They stepped outside of the tent, and she followed Caleb as he started to lead her through the camp. As they walked, she told him everything. She told him about fleeing Setauket and going to Valley Forge and then being attacked in the woods and then finding Ben and then their brief encounter with Lieutenant Gamble.
"That bastard!" Caleb said. "Did Benny tell you what that bastard did to our man Mr. Sackett?
She nodded.
"I swear, if I ever run across that man again-" He swore. After he explanation, he was no longer concerned for Ben's health and he was now fully invested in the tale involving their escape from Gamble.
Despite everything, she laughed. She had missed her friend.
Caleb led her in the direction of the baggage trains. That was where most of the food was being prepared throughout the day. The camp was still too incomplete to set up a mess tent or get appropriate supplies to the soldiers.
There were people everywhere, so it took them quite some time to reach the baggage trains on the edge of camp. Men were shouting orders as furniture was being carried off. She noticed that women were in the wagons, helping pass belongings to whatever soldiers were there. Although she had never met one, Molly knew a little about what camp followers did. They consisted of wives or children of soldiers. However, there were also single women, some in search of husbands, some had business connections and were looking to sell supplies to the army, and some were prostitutes. The women would do all sorts of odd jobs around camp: mending clothing, doing laundry, serving as nurses, cooking, cleaning, etc.
"Wait here." Caleb said, then he began to walk through the crowd and into the followers' camp.
Molly crossed her arms over her chest. She eyed everything curiously, not entirely sure of what to make of it yet. The longer she stood there, the more self-conscious she felt about her state of dress. Her clothes were clean, but she missed her normal clothing; her dresses. Caleb was only gone for a few minutes, but it felt much longer to her. So, she approached the nearest women to her.
"Excuse me?"
The women had a scowl on her face as she turned and looked over Molly.
"What do you want?"
"Do you know where I might find some proper clothes? I just arrived at camp." Molly knew she sounded tired. Her voice was hoarse.
The women shrugged, "You'll want to be seeing the Missus." She pointed to one of the wagons. "Over there."
Molly saw who she was referring to. There was a woman stood on one of the wagons. She looked to be older than Molly, but not by too many years. She was giving orders to both the men and women distributing belongings. She looked far too nice to be a camp follower. While the other women were wearing aprons and had their sleeves rolled back, she was dressed as if she was going into town. She walked over to speak to the woman.
"Excuse me?"
"Yes, dear?"
The woman didn't even bat an eye at Molly's appearance.
"I'm Major Tallmadge's fiancée." It felt strange to admit that after so long. "I was told to speak to you about obtaining more appropriate clothing."
The woman gave her a warm smile.
"Of course! Welcome, Ms. –?"
"Call me Molly.
They shook hands.
"Martha."
Martha gave a few final instructions, and then she left the wagons and brought Molly to where the camp followers had begun to set up their tents.
Molly looked around uncomfortably. She wished she didn't feel so out of place. Plenty of the other women were here for the same reason as her. But there was still the fact that some were prostitutes. Molly wasn't sure how she felt about that. She thought the difference would be obvious, but, as she looked around, she couldn't tell anyone apart.
Martha brought her to one of the tents. There was a large trunk inside, and from it she procured several spare dresses and a few random articles of clothing from one of the trunks. None of them fit quite right, but Molly was not picky. Martha offered her a corset as well, but it wasn't the right size. Molly was secretly thankful it didn't fit. Truth be told, she preferred not to wear them.
In the end, Molly wore a loose-fitting dress that she cinched with a belt around her waist. She was also given a blue coat like the ones the soldiers wore. Martha explained that pieces of clothing were sent to the camp followers to mend. The ones that could no longer be repaired to meet regulation were left with the women. This coat had obviously been mended multiple times. It was littered with multicolored patches of fabric.
Molly didn't bother asking about hair pins or anything. As she followed Martha through the tents, about half the women wore their hair up and the other half wore their hair down. Although she found it strange, Molly knew she was going to have to get used to informalities. In fact, no one looked as put together as Martha. Molly wondered why that was, but she decided not to ask. The two women made small talk as Molly changed into her new clothes.
"Looks like you traveled a long way." Martha commented.
"Aye."
"Where are you from?"
"Long Island." When Molly realized that her new acquaintance was not going to continue speaking, she added, "And yourself?"
"Virginia."
Molly hid her confused expression. She did not know a lot about the Continental Army, but she did know that there were two separate theatres of war: the northern and the southern colonies. And she was fairly convinced that Virginia fell into the southern theatre. So, what is she doing here? Molly didn't say anything though.
"You said your husband is an officer?" Martha continued.
"Aye. A Major for the dragoons[N1] ."
"Hm."
Martha stopped speaking abruptly. Molly's hands froze mid-tying the laces of her dress. She turned to look back at the older woman. "What is it?" she asked.
Martha smiled, but Molly recognized that it was a false smile. "It's just… I'd be careful who you entrust that information to."
"Why?" She was facing her now.
Martha sighed and took a seat on top of the clothing trunk.
"Some women get… upset about how officers are treated differently than their husbands." Molly must've shown her uncertainty on her face, because Martha continued, "Officers get certain privileges that common soldiers don't. Private tents, officers' dinners… you know, those sorts of things."
"So?" Molly asked hesitantly.
"So, sometimes officers also extend those privileges to their wives. I know my husband certainly has, and I am sad to say that I have fallen out of favor with some of the women I used to be acquainted with because of it."
Molly finished dressing quickly enough, but now she was beginning to feel the same anxiousness she used to feel at the tavern. She wanted to be annoyed, but she wasn't. She was used to keeping secrets. Compared to Setauket, this secret was not serious. Besides, things were different here. Although they had hardly spoken, Molly already considered Martha an ally. When Molly was finally dressed, they stepped out of the tent, they had barely begun walking when Molly caught sight of Caleb.
"Everything alright?" Martha asked.
"Yes, um, I think I see my brother." It was a lie, but it also wasn't too far from the truth.
"A fiancé and a brother here as well." Martha smiled warmly. "I'll see you soon."
"Thank you for all your help."
"It was no trouble."
They parted ways, and Molly joined Caleb once more. He had a bottle of rum in one hand and a handkerchief filled with food in the other hand.
"There you are." He handed her the food and she immediately began to scarf it down.
"Good to see you back in proper clothes. I was beginning to think you were planning on enlisting yourself." Caleb joked.
She grinned and then proceeded to stuff more food in her mouth.
They began to walk back in the direction of Ben's camp. As they talked, Caleb began to tell her all sorts of war stories. She wasn't sure how accurate they were, but she enjoyed hearing them, nonetheless. He told her about how he had briefly served as a privateer, and how he narrowly avoided the British pirates when he traveled to the dead drop, and stories such as that. Finally, she managed to get a word in, and she asked the question that had been on her mind the second they arrived at the camp.
"Where's Selah?"
He looked away for a moment, "Old Ben didn't tell you?"
She shook her head, a nervous lump forming in her throat. Caleb noticed her distress.
"No, Moll! It's nothing like that!" he insisted. "Selah was enlisted for over a year. Our bounties are up every January, and your brother decided not to reenlist." He smiled, "In fact, last I hear, your little brother's living in Philadelphia. He and Ben write to each other. Apparently, old Selah is trying to get the nomination for Congress."
Molly felt a sense of pride as she heard those words. Despite his lack of education, Selah had always had an interest in politics. Before the war, and even some time into the war, Selah would gladly debate any man who questioned the actions of the rebels. Molly knew that if it wasn't for her or Anna, Selah would've enlisted in the Continental Army a long time ago. Selah had loved the farm, and the family estate, and his tavern, but Molly always knew that he wanted to do something more with his life.
"He's trying to get involved in Congress?" she repeated. She couldn't hide the excitement from her voice. "You really think he can do it?"
Caleb shrugged, "Selah never had a problem keeping up with us, so I reckon he won't find it hard to keep up with all those political bastards eithers."
She laughed, and they continued through camp.
Over an hour had passed when they returned to where Ben's tent was pitched. The site was much more crowded than before. There were several additional tents now; there were still soldiers moving furniture back and forth. They slipped inside, and Molly was surprised to find Ben awake and partly dressed in his uniform. A trunk, a chair, and a small mirror had been added since she was last there. Ben sat shirtless at the desk; he was shaving. He glanced over at them as they walked in.
"And he's alive!" Caleb laughed, playfully slapping his friend on the shoulders.
Ben shoved him away, but he couldn't help grinning. "Get away from me." He joked.
Caleb gestured toward Molly, "You'll be pleased to know that I showed the missus around camp. Found her some proper clothing as well."
Ben glanced over at her and eyed her new attire. His tone began serious, "You look nice."
Although she appreciated it, she was so tired now that she was beginning to feel drunk. She shrugged and nonchalantly walked over to where he was.
"As do you." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and placed her hands on his bare chest. "I must say, I like your uniform. A bare torso; is that a new regulation?"
She and Caleb burst into laughter at the same time.
Ben turned and pulled her down into a kiss. She hummed in surprise. After a second he pulled away; she stared at him, unsure what to say. He had never liked public displays of affection before. The fact he had done so in front of Caleb was especially surprising.
"Alright, I know when I'm not wanted." Caleb said. His tone was still playful though as he exited the tent, leaving them alone.
He lifted a hand and brushed his thumb over her lips.
"What was that for?" she asked quietly.
Ben smirked, "Like I said, you look nice."
The words were simple, but his tone made her feel the same warmth she had felt a few nights ago.
He pulled her down again, and she found herself crawling on top of him. He pulled her flush against him, deepening the kiss. His face was still have covered in shaving cream, and she could feel it sticking to her face as well; she didn't mind it though. She knotted one hand in his hair and put the other on his back, pulling his closer.
She quietly gasped as she felt one of his hands move from her lower back and slip under her skirts. He grasped at her bare thigh; his hand resting dangerously high on her leg. She broke their kiss, putting her forehead against his.
"We should stop." She panted.
"Why?" he breathed.
He moved his lips from her mouth to her chin, and then he started to trail them down her neck and to her collarbone. She could feel the shaving cream sticking to her as he moved his head.
"Because." She swallowed, "Caleb is just outside."
His response was muffled against her skin, "Let him listen."
She laughed aloud in shock, and she felt a blush rising in her cheeks.
"Hey." She tugged on his hair, pulling him up so that he was looking at her again. He winced but complied, a lopsided grin spread on his face. "You don't mean that."
"You're right, I don't… But I do hope he heard me."
She smiled, moving her hand so that it was under his chin, and then she kissed him once more.
"I want you to go see a doctor." She said moving her hand so that it was gently pressed against his wound.
He winced and moved her hand aside. "What? Do you not trust Dr. Giles' work?"
He tried to chuckle, but then he saw that there was no amusement in her eyes. She was serious. She looked troubled. So he finally nodded and agreed, "I will."
She smiled when he brought a hand up to her face and began wiping the shaving cream away from her mouth.
"Here, let me." She said, turning slightly and reaching for the blade he had abandoned on the desk. She shifted in his lap so that she was not quite so close. She picked up where he left off and finished shaving his face.
His hands remained where they were, one on her lower back, and the other on her thigh. He didn't speak, but he moved his head to make it easier for her. The last time she had shaved a man's face was when her father had fallen ill. That was nearly a decade ago.
He moved his head and looked up, exposing his throat for her.
"I see you found the camp followers well enough." He said.
"Aye, the ones I met were friendly enough."
"When I get back from my report, I'll go over to that side of camp. Help you claim a tent before all the good ones are spoken for."
She stopped, the razor frozen beside his Adam's apple. He shifted so he could look at her.
"What?" he asked.
"What do you mean claim a tent?"
"Well now that you're here, you have to pose as a camp follower."
She opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped. She suddenly felt like a complete fool. Of course, I can't stay with him. She thought. How stupid was I to think I could?
"I hate to do it, but you'll have to make do living with all the other doxie-delles who are just here to find a husband." He chuckled
All her composure evaporated from her body and she shot him a glare.
"Right. Wouldn't want to do that." She snapped.
His smile faded, "That's not what I…"
"Yes it was. Or you wouldn't have said it…"
She harshly pushed his chin up and continued where she had left off. She felt him tense under her, but she didn't care. That was happening a lot more lately; she didn't care.
Although they could not stay in the same tent, Ben told her to feel free to sneak over the line to his or Caleb's tents. He said her status as his fiancée would grant her access where other women were not allowed. (Women were restricted to the areas where the camp followers lived and worked because they posed a security threat. Some were relatives to soldiers, but others were not, and Washington knew that spies could be anywhere.)
Molly remembered Martha's warning, about how officers' wives received special treatment. She knew she should appreciate the warning, but she also decided she didn't care. She didn't care if the other women knew who she was connected to. She was tired of sneaking around. And she was tired of being separated from Ben and Caleb alike.
She had been spending most of her time between Ben and Caleb's tents. Although they were busy making reports and going on scouting missions, they never protested when she disturbed them. So that's what she was doing again today. She walked into Ben's tent, only to find him busy with paperwork at his desk. He was reading a letter, but his expression was troubled. He jumped when he noticed her.
"What's wrong?" she asked, finding a place to sit on the cot.
"Nothing. You startled me, that's all."
Little did she know, it was much more than just nothing.
"Sorry."
"Don't be." A beat. "I have another letter here, from your brother."
She quickly took it from him and opened it. Over the last week, she had started writing to Selah. Ben was helping by sending their correspondents. Although she was excited to speak with her brother once more, writing to him was becoming tedious. They were arguing… a lot, in fact. It wasn't over anything serious; just pleasantries mostly. After all, she couldn't tell him about the ring. As she skimmed through the newest letter, it was the same as the others. She knew that Selah was just as stubborn as she was. Becoming frustrated, she stopped reading after the first few paragraphs. She would read the rest later.
April 1778
"What are you going to do?"
It was a good question, and Major Benjamin Tallmadge had been pondering that question for quite some time.
It had been nearly two weeks ago since he returned to camp with Molly. As soon as he had composed himself in his tent, he had written to Abraham, informing him of Molly's safety. He also demanded an explanation; specifically, for why he had forged an alliance with Robert Rogers. He hadn't told her about it because he didn't think it was worth mentioning.
Later that day, he sent Caleb to the dead drop. He hated to interrupt their reunion; Caleb was just as excited to see Molly as he was, and they were becoming reacquainted. But Ben needed answers.
He had his answer within a week, and the answer was what had been troubling him: Molly had killed a Queen's Ranger. He had received three letters: one from Abraham, Abraham's wife, and Anna. They all provided additional details that helped him better understand what had happened in Setauket.
Abe explained his alliance with Rogers. Rogers had visited Setauket before. Abe explained that Rogers was attempting to recruit Whig sympathizers to give him information he could use against John Andre, who he had a personal vendetta against. Abe wrote about how he rarely interacted with Molly. After Anna decided to stay in Setauket, Abe found himself confiding in her as before. She could pass information along to Molly. He wrote that Molly felt personally offended by this exclusion, but "I do not know what she expects from me," Abe wrote, "She has never fully trusted me since Anna decided to remain in Setauket. She blames me for the affair. While I accept fault, she refuses to believe that what happened between myself and Anna is over. Then there is her odd relationship with Captain Simcoe…"
Anna wrote more on the relationship, "Molly is not in her right senses. She has not been since killing that Ranger. I fear that any progress she has made to control her temper has completely vanished. Ben, you do not have any idea; the way she mistrusts me. I am made mistakes in the past, but Molly believes herself to be superior to the rest of us. She has no faith in us; Abraham or myself. Instead, she believes the only way to maintain her position in town is to befriend men such as Simcoe. I have spoken to her on the manner, and she won't listen to reason. Ben, she is just as stubborn as when we were children."
Mary wrote, "Mr. Tallmadge, I know we have never been properly acquainted, but I feel the need to write to you because I am fearful for my friend. Molly has always been a private person. In fact, I was only made aware of your previous engagement when a neighbor informed me. However, her recent actions bring me much concern. When she fled from Setauket, she endangered all of us. It was not in her character to flee, so I am unsure what exactly happened that encouraged her departure. She was a fool to think no one would notice. For the last several months, she has been forging alliances with the Queen's Rangers. She has it in her mind that a friendship with Captain Simcoe will prevent her from being suspected to be a Patriot. Unfortunately, her plan was successful. Her disappearance caused Captain Simcoe much distress. He rode nearly to York City to ensure she had not been attacked on the road. But this also means that he now spends much time at Whitehall, and I am forced to forge letters from her to settle any suspicions concerning her true whereabouts. It is proving to be more and more difficult for Abraham to get information and to sneak away to the dead drop…"
So, now Ben had found himself in a dilemma.
"You knew about this?" He asked Caleb. They were both in Caleb's tent, discussing the recent slew of information Caleb had retrieved from the dead drop.
Caleb looked down at his feet, and Ben knew it to be true.
"She asked me not to." He admitted.
Ben slumped lower into his seat and absentmindedly shuffled through the papers once more.
"I want to know what happened."
Caleb scoffed, almost in disbelief, but when he noticed that Ben was serious, he wiped the smile from his face.
"There's not much to tell. I don't even know the whole story. Abe and Annie were found out by a couple of Rangers the same night we were supposed to meet at the dead drop. One of them got to me, and they planned to turn us over to the old bastard Simcoe himself. Moll managed to find out and she followed them into the woods and distract them long enough for Abe and Annie to fight them off. She saved Abe by killing that Ranger."
"But she was friends with him?"
"I guess. She was pretty broken up about everything. Said she liked him."
Ben nodded slowly, trying to digest that information.
The truth was, he still couldn't believe that Molly had waited for him. Although she had said so, he half expected her to already be courting a new man or to be married by time they next met. In fact, he asked her not to wait because he knew that he could wind up dead at any time, and she might not hear news of it for months, or even years.
When Ben woke up in that cabin, he was grateful that she had been the one to save him, but he also knew that something was off about her. She was tense and agitated. He wanted to blame it on the man she had killed, but Ben remembered the first time he had killed someone. He had felt guilty and ill for several days, but he eventually shook the feeling; they were at war, after all, and that man had been trying to kill him.
"What are you going to do?" Caleb asked again. He was just as concerned. They could not ignore the fact that Molly had endangered the entire ring by disappearing from Setauket.
Ben had been mulling over that question for days now. He had decided that there was only one thing he really could do. So, he said it aloud.
"I'm going to let her meet Washington."
When Ben returned to his tent that night, he was surprised to find Molly inside, waiting for him.
"Hey, I was just about to –"
Before he could say anything else, he was cut off by Molly pulling him into a kiss. He made noise in surprise when he felt her hands undoing the buttons on his coat and then slip under the coat to help him push it off. He complied at first and rolled his shoulders back, helping her remove it the rest of the way.
They hadn't been together since that night in the cabin, and Ben felt the familiar warmth and the knot forming in the pit of his stomach like before.
He opened his eyes suddenly. No, he thought, I can't. I can't do this. I need to talk to her. He had no idea how to approach the subject, so he didn't bother with pleasantries.
"I know about Lieutenant MacInnis."
Her lips froze against his and she slowly opened her eyes. Her expression had darkened. She pulled back slightly, her mouth still agape from their kiss.
"What about him?" Her voice was slightly hoarse, and there was no empathy in her tone.
"Molly." He could hear the strain in his own voice.
"Benjamin." She replied, just as strained. She pressed her mouth against his once more and mumbled against his lips, "Don't speak."
She tried to pick up where they had left off, but he refused to reciprocate. Instead, he turned his head away from her. She stopped and stood there. Their arms were still wound around each other.
"You killed a Ranger." He said more firmly.
"And you killed a minister." She snapped. "What of it?"
He hated to see her so agitated. But that's all she had been for the last few weeks. Truth be told, she had been acting like a real bitch.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked. He was making sure to control his tone. He wanted answers, and he knew if she became too upset, she might refuse to tell him.
She shrugged, "It wasn't important."
"Wasn't important?" He scoffed.
"Well, was it important to tell me about the minister?" He felt some of the blood drain from his face. "No. You didn't have a problem omitting that detail, now did you?"
He hated that he had killed a minister. The man was a traitor, yes, but the entire time he couldn't help thinking of his father or what God must think of him. He still didn't want to think about it.
"That was different." He said quietly, his voice breaking.
"No it's not."
"Yes it is." He was the one snapping this time. "I didn't tell you about the minister because-"
"You didn't want you to think less of you?"
He felt embarrassed and he felt a new blush rising in his cheeks. He looked away from her, refusing to meet her gaze as he nodded. She put a hand on his cheek and guided his face back to hers. She firmly kissed him on the lips.
"That's the reason why I did it too." He felt her lips brush against his with every word.
He swallowed, trying to think about what to say next. She was still skirting around the subject. He didn't mean to press her, but he wanted to confirm the information he had received from Setauket. He trusted Abe just as much as he trusted Molly, even if it was for different reasons.
"Molly, just because you killed someone does not mean-"
She cut him off, "No. That's not what I mean." She looked away for a second and that's when he realized that her eyes were watery. "I liked him, Ben." Her voice broke. "I liked him."
He felt another blush rising in his cheeks. The fact that she had grown attached to a Ranger made his stomach churn. A man who had nearly killed him, and she knew this, yet she still liked him.
All he could think to say was, "Oh."
"And it doesn't matter anymore." She added quickly. "Because when it came down to it, I didn't have to, but I chose to kill him." He could tell she noticed the surprise on his face because she added, "I expect that Caleb left that detail out."
"He did."
She lowered her voice, "Do you think less of me?"
"Never. I'd never do that." And he meant it. He would never think less of her. Even if he had discovered she had moved on and married another man, he would never think less of her. She had made just as many sacrifices as he had.
"Good." She nodded. "So we're in agreement. Don't tell me about who you've killed, and I won't tell you about who I've killed."
She started to move away, but he kept his arms wound around her. He couldn't send her away like this. He was feeling guilt, more guilt than he had perhaps ever felt.
This was exactly what he wanted to avoid. He didn't want her to be involved in any of this. He wanted her to remain at home. Though he knew it was wishful thinking, a part of him had hoped that perhaps the less she was involved, then that would ensure that she could be the one thing unchanged by the war. But now he knew he had been a fool to think that could happen. They both weren't the same people they were when they were originally engaged.
"Don't." he said quietly. "Stay."
"It's against protocol."
"I know. Stay."
So she did.
Molly knew she was acting like a bitch. She knew she needed to stop, she wanted to stop, but lately she was having trouble controlling her temper. She was well aware that everything she had done over the last two months had been done so on impulse: snapping at Anna, snapping at Simcoe, plotting to flee to York City, actually fleeing from Setauket, searching for the Continental Army at Valley Forge, sleeping with Ben… all of it.
Molly had always been aware of her temper, and she knew she needed to control it. She began thinking of her mother. Her mother had been one of the most even-tempered people Molly had ever known. For her early life, Molly constantly got into trouble. Although her parents reprimanded her, they believed she would eventually outgrow it. But then she didn't… not at first.
When Molly was in her late teens, most of her friends left for university or work, and Molly had been angrier than ever. That was when her mother decided that unconventional methods might work better to tame Molly. When Samuel Tallmadge sent Molly books about historical events or battles, her mother would study the material with her. Molly's mother was illiterate, so she had Molly read everything aloud. She would listen, and then they would discuss.
Molly remembered when they read Plutarch's essays on Greek personalities. All the biographies were about generals and politicians and soldiers.
"What made this man successful?"
"And why did so-and-so lose the battle of what's-its-name?"
"It's just like what we read before. Was he driven by emotion or logic?"
"Was that a smart decision?"
"What was his mistake?"
Those were just some of the questions her mother would ask. The more they read and discussed, the more Molly learned the importance of patience and strategy. Within a couple of months, Molly was already behaving more pleasantly. She began testing the strategies on neighbors and acquaintances, and she was shocked when most of them worked. She had been using them ever since. Until now…
She meant what she said… about running away. The problem was, she was too much of a coward to follow through on her word. She could flee to Canada if she really wanted to. But she didn't want to go alone. And she was annoyed at herself because of it.
She had felt irritated a lot lately. She didn't know why Ben had been so insistent on learning about what had happened with Alex MacInnis. That was the latest thing that had been annoying her. Well, that and the letters between her and Selah.
Those annoyed her because Selah was insistent that she should move to Philadelphia and stay with him. Although she missed him, she refused to abandon Ben and Caleb once more. I'm needed here, she told herself, even if that meant she was stuck doing odd jobs around camp. She was trying to behave pleasantly so she could make friends with the other women; it was difficult for her though. The camp followers had no problem assigning her tasks though.
Soon enough, she was working all sorts of odd jobs; mostly laundry, but for some reason, one of the women had decided to place Molly in charge of mending most of the clothes sent to them. She tried to warn them about her poor sewing skills, but the women didn't seem to care.
And that's what she was doing, sitting beside one of the campfires with a small pile of clothes sitting on the ground beside her. She was desperately trying to keep her stitching even on the sock she was mending.
"This is ridiculous." Molly complained under her breath. Some poor bastard is going to get stuck with this. She thought, bitterly reviewing her work.
"Ms. Strong!"
She looked up, surprised to hear her name. A grin spread across her face when she saw Caleb loping towards her.
"Mr. Brewster!"
"Someone to see you, Ms. Strong."
She raised her eyebrows, but Caleb had an amused smile on his face. She quickly gathered the clothing and placed it into her shared tent – she was sharing a tent with one of the other women. Then she followed Caleb deeper into camp.
He led her to Ben's tent, but when they stepped inside, Ben wasn't there.
"Selah!"
"Molly!"
The siblings laughed aloud as Molly ran to embrace Selah; they had forgotten any of their grievances over their letters. They hugged briefly, then Molly pushed him away, holding him at arm's length.
"Look at you!" she exclaimed.
Selah looked much different than when she'd seen him in Setauket. He had gained back some weight and he looked healthy again. He was dressed like a gentleman, not like a tavern owner or a soldier. She couldn't believe how much older he looked.
"You didn't say you were coming."
"I know." Selah was smiling, "I wanted it to be a surprise."
She looked back to say something to Caleb, but he wasn't there. He was letting them have some space.
"What's this about you becoming involved in Congress?" They had talked about it over their letters, but Molly wanted to hear him say it out loud.
Selah smiled sheepishly. "Nothing's definite. It's just an idea."
"And a fine idea!"
"We'll see… But, hey, what's this about you working with Benjamin? He wouldn't tell me anything, but you're what, a spy or something?"
"Or something. But not anymore. I'm done with that, that's why I'm here." She admitted. She meant it too. She was done spying; she had decided that she was content to remain a camp follower for the duration of the war.
She didn't tell him anymore. She doubted Selah needed to know too much about any of that, especially if he was going to get himself involved with Congress. They moved to sit down. Selah sat at chair by the desk and Molly sat on the cot.
"I couldn't believe it when I got Benjamin's letter." Selah switched subjects immediately. Selah often did this when he became excited, his thoughts became all muddled, "Have you met the big man himself? General Washington."
She laughed. "No, not yet."
"Ben's always so judgmental of the man, but I grew quite fond of him during my time here." He paused for a second, then he switched subjects again. He perked up as he thought of something, "Hey, where's Anna. Is she with you?"
Molly felt her expression fall. Being with her brother again, it reminded her of all the ways she was mad at her sister-in-law. How could anyone do this to Selah? She thought.
When they wrote to each other, Molly had made sure not to include any information about the affair. She was still debating whether she should be the one to tell him, or if she should let Anna do it. But in that moment, she remembered all of her frustrations from Setauket. So, on impulse, she told him everything. His joyful attitude quickly faded as he listened. He didn't say anything until she finished.
"But she's alright though?" he asked hesitantly.
"Aye."
Her brother was quiet for many minutes. He put his face in his hand and he pondered over his older sister's words.
"I'm sorry." Molly added. "I thought you should know."
"No. No. I'm glad you told me… It's just…" he stopped himself.
"What?"
He weakly scoffed and bit his lip, "Well, it's just… You all did think I was dead."
Molly felt her chest tighten at the memory. That was true, they had believed him to be dead. Before she could say anything else, Selah continued.
"Moll, do you remember how I asked you to look after Anna?"
She nodded.
"You weren't the only one I asked." He admitted.
"I remember. You told me you asked Abe to help look after us."
"I mean… I'm not blind. I know about Anna and Abraham's past. I knew it when I asked her to marry me. When I was in the stockade … Don't look at me like that."
Molly looked away, trying to mask the scowl forming on her face. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. When she decided to tell him, she figured that he would be just as outraged as she was. That's what she wanted.
"Moll, I know he has a family of his own. But I am no fool. When I knew I was to be sent to the Jersey, I believed it to be a death sentence. I knew the two of you would take care of Anna."
Molly bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from bursting into tears. She was so frustrated at his words.
"Have you thought less of her because of this?" he finally asked.
She scoffed, and she could feel herself losing control of her temper. "Why are you defending her?" she spat.
"She is my wife!"
"Aye, and you are my little brother! Do you have so little regard for yourself that you would forgive that whore-"
Selah stood up, knocking the chair over in the process.
"You shut your mouth right now!"
Molly glared up at him but complied. Selah rarely lost his temper. When he did get angry, is was different from most people. Even now, when he said that, his tone was calm and firm. Selah's was a quiet anger. She refused to look away, so Selah finally let out a sigh and picked the chair up from the ground.
"Why?" her voice cracked, "Why are you so willing to forgive her?"
"I love her."
Molly couldn't hold back her tears anymore; she could feel them welling up in her eyes. She and Selah were siblings, but they handled emotions very differently. Selah had always been much more forgiving than her.
"I don't care about what's happened in the past." He continued. "I've always known about Anna and Abraham's engagement. I know she will always be a little in love with Abe, but I don't care… I love her, Molly. I cannot judge her for what decisions she made when she believed me to be dead."
She rolled her eyes, but she held her tongue. At least some things haven't changed. She always thought Selah was too forgiving.
He sat down next to her on the cot, "Molly, I thought I was going to die on that ship. I thought so every day." His voice broke. "And every day I hoped that when I finally died, and when you received word, that Anna would move on. And that you would move on." A beat. "When all of this is over, I will let the decision be hers. But until then, she is my wife, and I will continue to treat her as such."
For over a year, Molly had tried to think about what Selah had gone through; he was arrested and imprisoned. As soon as he was freed, he had gone to war. It's not fair, she thought. Selah doesn't deserve any of this. Molly knew she could never forget what Anna and Abe had done; she could forgive them, but she would never forget. But now Selah was asking her to make peace with it. No matter how angry she was, Selah was her little brother, and she would do everything in her power to remain in her brother's good graces.
"I'm sorry." She finally said.
He moved to change the subject, but this new subject did nothing to lighten the mood. He told her about Samuel Tallmadge. Molly had never talked to Ben about his brother's death. It was a subject they both felt uncomfortable to discuss. She remembered the letter from Ben that she was never supposed to read. She knew he thought of his brother often.
Selah had been with Samuel on the Jersey; he was with him when he passed. As soon as Selah began telling her, Molly burst into tears. She had purposely not thought about Samuel in a long time. The idea of him being dead made her heart hurt almost as badly as it had when she believed Selah to be dead.
"No, Molly." Selah said, rubbing her back. He emotional about the subject. "Hey, stop. Don't cry." Molly couldn't understand why he wasn't crying, but she supposed he had already done so before.
She tried to compose herself, "I thought I'd lost you, just like we lost father and mama"
When Molly was twenty-one and Selah was nineteen, their parents had gotten ill with a fever and died. It was the same fever that killed Ben's mother. That was one of the reasons why Ben had returned to Setauket after university, to live with him father.
"Moll, it's okay. Stop crying."
"I can't."
Selah couldn't stay, and he left after a few hours. Molly remained in the tent. When Selah stepped outside, he found himself met with Ben and Caleb who insisted on walking him to his carriage.
"Well?" Ben asked as soon as they had gotten some distance between them and the tent.
"Well, what?" Selah was trying to act oblivious.
"Is she going with you or not?"
Selah scoffed, not looking his friend in the eye. Ben had been writing to him as well when he sent Molly's letters. In Ben's latest letter, the message sounded frantic. He made it sound as if Molly was completely hysterical and not fit to stay at camp. He disagreed though.
Ben knew that he had exaggerated a bit in his letters to Selah. But, if anyone knew Molly, it was Selah. Perhaps it would be safer if she left camp. Or perhaps it would do her good just to talk to her brother. Ben honestly didn't have an idea what to do. He had enough to worry about with the ring. The last thing he needed was Molly having a type of breakdown at camp. He wasn't sure if he could handle that without having a breakdown himself.
Ben and Selah were close when they were younger. As soon as Ben began courting Molly, they became even closer friends. They talked about things they knew they could never tell Molly about, like her temper. They had both shared similar experiences dealing with her. At first, Ben had felt self-conscious asking Selah for advice about how to approach certain topics with Molly. The more they talked, the less he felt bad about it. Ben knew how much Selah always admired his sister. After all, as kids, Molly had always been defending him.
"Benjamin, this is my sister we're talking about." Selah said.
"But you spoke to her about the matter?"
He didn't answer. Selah rolled his eyes when he felt Ben grab his shoulder.
"You did ask, didn't you?"
"Yes, I have!" He said. "But it's no good. I'm not going to make her do something she doesn't want to."
"Selah!"
"Don't give me that, Major. From what I can tell, she wants to be here. And from what I can tell, you exaggerated a bit much in your letter." He paused. "But you were right about one thing: She is mad at Anna."
Ben raised his eyebrows. He knew that Molly had been annoyed about the business with the affair, but she hadn't mentioned it to him again.
"So, what? You think she'll be alright staying here? Selah, you've barely spoken to her."
Selah smiled. "True." A beat. "But it isn't my decision. Listen she told me about Anna and Abraham." He continued before Ben could interject. "Listen, that's my business. Not Molly's. She can be as angry as she wants to be. You know her. The longer she's here, away from all that, she'll forget about it. She'll get over it."
Ben bit the inside of his cheek, but he finally nodded in agreement. Selah had a point.
Selah changed topics, "So, are you two engaged again? She didn't say anything, and I didn't press her."
Ben sighed, "I like to think we are, but it's just… bad timing."
"Isn't it always? But hey, you are still looking after her, aren't you?"
"Of course."
They continued exchanging pleasantries on the way back to the carriage. To be honest, they didn't have a lot to say. They corresponded so regularly that they were caught up on pretty much everything. They exchanged a few more words, and then Selah stepped into his carriage, and he rode out of camp.
"What do you mean you don't want to meet the General?" Ben scoffed in disbelief.
He had waited to tell her his decision until he had worked it out with Washington. Finally, Washington had given him a time when he could bring Molly to meet him.
"I don't know." Molly shrugged and continued to glance between him and Caleb, "I thought you said he was an ass."
Caleb laughed aloud at the remark and Ben shot him a glare.
"When I said that," he explained, "I said it when I was upset. That's not who he is though."
"But didn't he get angry and dismiss you from being head of intelligence?"
Her tone was not condescending; it was genuine.
"He did." Ben admitted, "But it was a misunderstanding."
He could tell she wasn't convinced though.
"Come on." Caleb cut in, "We talked to the old bastard." He said it affectionately. "He says he's excited to meet you."
Ben noticed Molly perk up and he was grateful that Caleb had said something.
"So you'll meet him?"
She smirked, trying to keep her newfound excitement at bay, "Alright."
Caleb knew that all of this was his doing. It had been his idea to hang that petticoat and lead Molly over to the barn. It had been his idea to tell her that Ben was his commanding officer. And he was the one who promised to write to her, and then kept his word. Ben had never let him forget that. If Caleb hadn't done those things, Molly wouldn't have a clue about the spy ring, and she would not have become involved in it.
When he looked over at her now, watching her struggling to hide her excitement, he couldn't help but smile. He was glad to see her in better spirits. His reasons for all those things, defying Ben's orders, dropping hints to Molly, was because he cared for her, and he hated the idea of excluding her. But he also knew Ben was right; Molly had been different since arriving at camp.
They had known each other a long time, and that was why Caleb always felt selfish around her. They had been friends the longest, and for the longest time, it had just been them. When Abe and Samuel and Ben left for university, and after her parents died and Selah began working more than ever, Caleb had tried his hardest to spend time with her. He was working too, as a sailor, but he didn't let that discourage him.
He knew that Molly had always viewed him as a brother, and it didn't seem to matter what he did. But he was hopeful that maybe one day she would see him as something else, like the way he saw her. Caleb had never blatantly told anyone about his feelings for Molly. However, he did enjoy hearing the rumors among their neighbors. They spent so much time together that most people assumed that one day Molly Strong would become Molly Brewster.
He remembered the one time he was forced to be at sea for several months. By time he returned to Setauket, Ben was back in town, and then Ben and Molly were spending most of their time together. He didn't think anything of it, at first. After all, Ben had never liked Molly, so Caleb assumed he was doing it out of politeness, but he quickly learned how wrong he was.
Before he knew what to make of it, Molly was telling him that she and Ben were engaged. Caleb remembered how upset he had been, but he said nothing. He never spoke to Ben about it; he was too afraid it would ruin their friendship; he still considered Ben one of his closest friends. But he was annoyed nonetheless.
For years, Ben had repeatedly told him how much he didn't like Molly. He found her too brash and hotheaded. But now, now that Molly was more even-tempered and well-read, Ben seemed infatuated by her. Caleb found the entire thing so ridiculous because what did Ben expect? Caleb hadn't thought anything of it when Molly stopped picking fights with the other neighborhood children. He always knew she was going to stop one day. After all, they were no longer children; they had grown up. But still, Caleb said nothing.
A lot had happened over the past years. While Caleb had his regrets, he could not deny how thankful he was for his friendship with Molly. When Ben returned to camp with her in tow, she was just as happy as she always was when they were reunited. Their feelings would never be quite the same, but he was glad for what feelings they did have. And now they were here, standing outside of Washington's tent.
Finally, they were permitted into the tent. Caleb and Ben saluted as they always did, and Caleb couldn't help grinning when he noticed Molly's reaction. Her head was tilted slightly, and he could tell she was sizing the General up. Washington looked to same to Caleb as he always did; tall.
"General Washington." Ben spoke up. "It's my pleasure to introduce my fiancée, Ms. Molly Strong."
Washington smiled and bowed his head slightly, "Madam. It is my great honor to welcome you to this army that you have kept alive and whole through your good works."
"Thank you, sir." She bowed her head slightly as well.
"On behalf of those who will never know the true measure of your efforts, I thank you for them and for all the sacrifices you have made in the name of our cause."
"It's an honor to meet you, 711."
Washington chuckled slightly. 711 was his number in their codebook.
"Well, 355, I must say, Major Tallmadge kept your identity as much of a secret as our Mr. Culper."
They exchanged a few more pleasantries, and then their introduction was over. Caleb could tell that Molly was confused by its brevity, but the General had other duties. They all did.
Molly was feeling more like herself again.
She had asked both Ben and Caleb to keep her as uninvolved in the ring as possible. She was content to act as a camp follower and nothing more. The heaviness she had felt in her chest for so long was gone. She was no longer nervous, no longer had to watch what she said. She didn't care that she had not formed any close friendships with the other camp followers. She knew the fault was her own.
Unbeknownst to her, her brother was right; she was forgetting about what happened back home. It was too bad that it wouldn't last.
Author's Note: Would Ben have really gotten drunk from downing half a bottle of rum? Debatable. During this time period, the alcohol content in drinks was typically less than 1%, so you would need to drink a lot more to get drunk. Also, since water wasn't always safe to drink, people just drank alcohol, meaning that people's alcohol tolerance was a lot higher than it would be today. However, Ben is also injured, and he did lose quite a bit of blood from being shot, so less blood in his system means that the alcohol would affect him a lot more than usual...
Idk though man *cries in historical inaccuracy*
Also, if you're wondering why Molly's characterization is a currently a mess... Nervous breakdown symptoms include: depressive episodes (including loss of hope), anxiety, extreme mood swings or unexplained outbursts, troubled sleeping, mental/physical/emotional exhaustion, etc.