Thanks, once again, for reading and reviewing. ) I hope you'll keep with me! Since that last chapter was so short, I've hurried and finished chapter 5. So here goes.
Chapter 5
Colonel Tavington poked his head out of the tent and yelled a couple of names. "Borden! Wilkins!"
I recognized the two men who huffed into the tent. The one named Borden was the one who'd helped in the rescue, and Wilkins had helped me down from Colonel Tavington's horse.
"Captains, we have a problem," the colonel began, then glanced over his shoulder in my direction.
The two captains also looked at me.
Colonel Tavington sat at his desk and began to write. "She's claiming the same story."
"But sir–"
"Wilkins, did I finish speaking?" The colonel growled then turned to his other captain. "It might be time for a good hanging. And a woman, no less." He chuckled and bent over his paper once again.
Thecaptains exchanged glances. Wilkins opened his mouth to speak, but Borden shook his head.
"Permission to speak, sir," Wilkins said. Borden rolled his eyes, but remained quiet.
Colonel Tavington slowly lifted his head, and I could just imagine the glare.
"What is it, Captain?"
Wilkins looked down and kicked at the ground with the tip of his boot. "What should we do with the horse? No one in the area has claimed a stolen animal."
"Yes, a fortunate turn of events, don't you think?" The colonel stood and handed a piece of paper to Borden. "I want you to go into town and find those items."
Borden glanced over the paper then looked up once again, a confused scowl on his face. "But how are we-where will we find these at this hour?"
"I don't really care how or where. Just be sure you come back with them before sunrise."
"Yes sir," the captains mumbled together and rushed out of the tent.
Colonel Tavington turned his full attention on me once again. "So, Miss Hanson. Are you really going to insist on this silly story about an Uncle Dave, who doesn't exist, and this traveling back in time bit?" He chuckled, lifting one side of his mouth.
"Uncle Dave does exist. But that's neither here nor there, is it?" I stood and walked right up to him. What did I have to lose anyway? If he believed me, maybe I'd be set free. If not, I was a dead woman no matter how I behaved around him.
"Actually, it is. If he did exist and you could prove it, and prove the horse belongs to him, then we wouldn't have to be setting up a gallows for you." He shook his head, and took a step closer. "A pity, really." His voice dropped to just above a whisper. "If only you'd trust me with the truth..."
"All right. Have it your way." I stepped back, uncomfortable with his closeness, and with the fact I was going to have to lie. I'd never been very good at it, and he'd probably see right through me. I turned my back to him, hoping maybe if I didn't look into his face and those eyes...maybe I'd have a chance.
"Well?" He asked.
"My life has been a mess from the beginning. When I was three, my mother died when we had an accident with our car –Uh, c-carriage. Actually, it was more like a wagon than a carriage." A station wagon, to be exact, but he didn't need to know that. "I survived, she didn't." I shrugged and turned, venturing a glance in his direction. But there was no reading that stone face of his. "I don't really remember any of that. I have some vague memories of my mother singing to me, but that's it. My father died when I was sixteen. Ca–" I caught myself. Did they even know about cancer in the 1770s? Maybe they did, but I had no idea. I wracked my brain for another fatal disease, one the colonel would be sure to have heard of. "C-"
"Consumption?" he offered.
"Consumption! That's it." I smiled as I shook my head, then remembered I was telling him a story of truth mixed with fiction that would hopefully gain his sympathy. Putting on my most pitiful face, I went on. "Before Daddy died, he took me to live with my childless, widower Uncle Dave."
Although I could still read no sympathy in the colonel's face, at least that stone cold expression had begun to melt. He actually looked interested in my story. Or maybe I just wanted him to be. I took in a few breaths through my nose in a sort of calming gesture. Now came the tricky part. For the rest of it was pure fiction.
"Go on," he said. It wasn't a prod, but an order.
"Yes sir. Um, well, Uncle Dave took me in and...what more do you really want to know?"
"If you are attempting to stall, it won't work. You know what I want to hear from you. I've already mentioned, I'm not usually a very patient man. And right now I am very close to losing what patience is left within me."
"Right." I nodded and once again tried to play on his sympathies with facial expressions. If only I had a mirror, to see how good–or stupid I looked. "Well, it was early morning. No one was up yet, but me. I went out to the stable to look at Shadow and then–" I remembered the banging shutter. The excitement of story-telling welled within me. "And then I heard a noise, much like that of a gunshot. I hid with Shadow for a few seconds, then when I got my wits about me, I looked out through a crack in the barn wall. I saw a band of men riding up to the house. It was still dusk, so I couldn't see them very well. I didn't wait. I ran and saddled Shadow in case I needed to run. Then I went back–"
"Were these men soldiers?"
"Maybe. I'm not sure. Like I said, I couldn't see them very well in the limited light." My hopes soared. It seemed he believed me. "They weren't your men, if that's what you want to know. I think I would have been able to see those scarlet coats y'all wear even with my eyes closed."
His eyebrows shot up. "Y'all?"
I had to cover my mouth with my hand for a second in order to not giggle. The Southernism sounded very funny coming from his oh-so-proper English mouth. "Hm...yes. It's Southern–never mind. It means you all, which I know isn't really correct either, but it's how we talk where I come from. You."
He waved the air a little impatiently. "So you're sure the men weren't Dragoons or other British soldiers."
"Absolutely." I nodded fervently. "I wouldn't have been so afraid had I seen British soldiers riding up to the house."
"Is that so?" He gave a half grin which told me I had clearly gone too far.
"All right, so maybe I would have been just as afraid. But these weren't British. They knocked on the door, then I saw Uncle Dave answer. They pushed him aside and rushed into the house. He managed to get away and ran to the stable. When he got inside and saw me, with Shadow all saddled, he told me to run. 'Those men are up to no good,' he said."
"So you left your uncle behind to the mercy of those men?" The colonel gave a disappointed shake of his head.
"N-no. It wasn't exactly like that." I frowned. I'd managed to think up the part of the band of men earlier, but I didn't expect this reaction from the colonel. "I helped him to saddle another horse. He grabbed his ax and was about to chop an exit out the back, when the door squeaked open." I sniffed, stalling again to think up what came next.
"What happened to your uncle, Miss Hanson? Was he killed?"
It was my turn to be surprised. I managed to look back at him, and all the sympathy I'd been hoping for pooled in his eyes. So the man did have a heart!
"I-I don't really know." I looked down again, putting as much emotion into my voice as possible. As much as I hated lying, this once, my life depended on it. But a sudden realization pumped some real emotion into my act. I truly didn't know what had happened to Uncle Dave. I still wasn't sure of what had happened to me. Was Uncle Dave all right? Was I? Had I shown up missing? My head began to want to spin again with all the thoughts. I shook my head to clear it.
"So you were trying to escape a band of men who likely killed your uncle and would have done the same or maybe worse to you."
I nodded. "I just hope Uncle Dave is all right. Maybe he's all right?"
"Why didn't you just tell me this from the beginning?" The colonel spoke softly and came toward me. "If you'd said something when we first came upon you, we might have been able to catch these ruffians and even save your uncle."
"I-I don't know." Tears that weren't forced sprung to my eyes. Now that it seemed I didn't have to worry about my own life, all I could think of was my uncle. How would he survive another loss?
"There, now. Go ahead and cry if it makes you feel better." Hesitantly, he reached out and pulled me to him. "There's not much can be done, now. But you're safe with us."
I had no intention of crying further. Not in the arms of this man. He didn't seem the type to tolerate weakness, even in the form of sadness. He would rather applaud bravery in the face of tragedy than a simpering, foolish woman. Reluctantly, I pushed away from him.
"Thank you for your comfort, Colonel, but it's not necessary. Uncle Dave is a good fighter. He probably made out all right."
"We can hope." The colonel smiled and then looked about. "You need to get a good night's sleep, and I have work to do." He pointed at the cot. "You can sleep there."
"I can't do that. You need your rest, too."
"I'm not asking you, Miss Hanson. I'm ordering you."
"And I'm not one of your dragoons that you can order me around." I placed my hand on my hip and glared at him.
"You really aren't afraid of me, are you?" He smiled, and for once it looked sincere.
"You've not given me any real reason to fear you." Another lie, of course, for the man terrified me. But I couldn't let him see that.
"Haven't I?"
"You have a really bad habit of second guessing everyone and what they say."
He laughed. "Actually, it's refreshing to have someone not cowering at my feet, begging for mercy." Without further ado, he turned around and bounded outside.
I don't know how long I paced the length of the tent. Soon exhaustion overtook me and I had no choice but to lie down. I figured I'd wake up when the colonel came back, then I could give him his cot. I fell asleep sniffing in the fragrance of him as I lay my head where he usually did. This was not a good sign. Feelings like this, for a man like that, could only lead to trouble.
I blinked as bright sunlight poured into the tent.
"Good morning, Miss Hanson. I take it you slept well?" The tent flap fell back into place, giving me a reprieve from the glare of the sun. I sat up and stretched then fixed my gaze on the colonel.
"Good morning." I yawned.
"I have a few things for you." He threw a large bag at me. "You'll look a lot more presentable in those."
I opened the bag and pulled out several pieces of women's clothing. Eighteenth century women's clothing. I swallowed hard. How was I ever to put these on? I didn't know what went where. Oh, and those awful bone things. A corset or some type. What'd they call them at this time period? Stays?
I looked back up at Colonel Tavington. "You really want me to put these on?"
"Of course. There's no reason for you to be wearing those strange looking men's clothes. It's not good for the troops to see you like that, anyway. A woman should dress as a woman, no matter where she comes from." He smirked, then turned on his heel and walked back outside.
With a deep sigh, I took out the clothes and laid them on the cot. Somehow I'd have to figure this out. It couldn't be that hard. I'd seen pictures.
Once I'd put on the under clothing, I held up the dress. It was actually quite pretty. Blue, I noticed, with stripes of white sporting little blue flowers. Now, if only I could get those stays on properly...it might even look nice on me.
As I fought with the laces on the stays, the tent flap opened and in walked the colonel. Maybe I should have felt embarrassed at being seen in my underclothes, but for me, a 21st century woman, I already had on more layers than I was used to.
"Need a little help with that?" The colonel's hands closed over mine, taking the laces from my fingers.
"Thank you. I'm not very good with that."
He didn't say anything, but pulled the laces tight. I sucked in a breath at just how tight.
"There you go." He turned me to face him, then placed his hands on my shoulders and smiled. "Hurry and finish dressing, my dear. I have something I wish to show you."
"Y-yes, of course." I smiled in return, then reached for the dress. It was the easiest part of the whole outfit to put on. In only I had a mirror!
I picked up a silver comb that was also in the bag. My unruly hair was probably quite a sight. With as much care as possible, I pulled the comb through my hair until no tangles were left, all the while very much aware of the colonel sitting at his table. I could see, out of the corner of my eye, that he watched me. What would happen next? What did he want to show me?
I rolled my hair back off my face in an attempt at a hairdo I'd seen on a young re-enactor lady once, and wound the scrunchy around the tail that remained at the back of my head.
"Ready?" The colonel stood and held out his hand. "Now you look like a woman. A very beautiful woman, I might add." He gave the briefest bow, and that Judas smile, then held the tent open for me to pass.
The camp was a flurry of activity. But as I stepped outside, I realized the men were all headed in one direction.
"Come right this way, Miss Hanson." Colonel Tavington took me by the arm and pulled me toward the growing group of men. "Your gallows awaits."
"Gallows? But Colonel–"
"What kind of a fool do you take me for? That sob story about a band of colonials killing your uncle–" He shook his head and snorted. "It would have been easier to believe that first ridiculous narrative."