Sorry about all my whining about not owning the movie.It's just a little frustrating, because it would help alot to get these details straight. So...I finally got my hands on a copy. Yay! I ended up cutting off the end of this chapter to work on the details. Thanks to all of you who are still with me, and apparently still enjoying. Y'all are great. But you know that already, don't you?

Disclaimer: I don't own The Patriot or any of its characters. I'm doing this for fun, and to see if I can get over writer's block on my "real" revolutionary war story.

Chapter 12

The days passed in much the same way, each one seeming to meld into the next. Some days we rode out in search of the ghost. Other times the men spent in training. On those days, I would sit off to the side and watch. Mostly I watched Tavington.

Wilkins and I had a sort of camaraderie going. Bordon always seemed to stick his nose up at me. I didn't really care, but it was nice having at least one "friend" in the camp. The other dragoons treated me with a certain distant respect...not getting too close, but never acting rude or snobby. Having a tendency to talk without thinking at times, I tried to keep to myself as much as possible. I was afraid I might give away some vital information that could bring my whole rescue plan crashing down.

The orders finally came for the dragoons to accompany a caravan of supply wagons. Tavington called me into his tent the night before. Since the day I'd seen the church, Tavington had pretty much kept his distance. As frustrating as it was on one hand, I was relieved. But now I would have to face him again, alone in the seclusion of his tent. With butterflies in my stomach, I went to see him.

"Miss Hanson, as you are probably aware by now, the lord general has ordered us to accompany the wagons leaving from Fort Carolina tomorrow. I have a little dilemma I hope you will help me to solve." He sat back in his chair and looked up at me, his face the picture of innocence.

"You want me to help you?" I laughed.

"Yes. You see, because of the nature of our mission tomorrow, I must take more than just a handful of men with me." He stood, rubbing the side of his neck with his hand. "I need Wilkins and Bordon with me, and there really isn't anyone else I would trust to leave you with."

I just stood there staring at him, not quite sure what he was getting at. Smiling, he moved in front of his desk, but I noticed he stood at a comfortable distance, hands pulled stiffly behind his back.

"No response? That is something." He chuckled, then went on. "I have two options. I could leave you in the camp, tied and chained to a tree...or somewhere. I could leave a man or two to guard you."

I sucked in a breath through my nose and stiffened. He wouldn't dare! Even as the thought crossed my mind, another set of words, Oh yes he would! followed right behind.

Tavington flashed me the Judas smile, then turned, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. "That idea doesn't seem to appeal to you." He went on when I said nothing. "The other option is to take you along, as I have in the past." Now he looked me straight on. All arrogance washed from his features, and a kind of seriousness I would never have expected replaced it. "This could be just a long, boring journey. But it could turn into a dangerous mission. I do not wish to put a civilian, even a rebel one, at unnecessary risk."

"I understand. And I am aware of the risks."

"I'm sure you are. So help me. What should I do? Can I trust you to go with us? Can I be sure that, should your friend, the Ghost, attack us, you won't turn and shoot me...or any of my men if you get your hands on a weapon?"

I looked down, and realized I had clenched my hands together. "I would never shoot you or anyone else." Slowly I raised my head to look at him. "I abhor war and violence, and I wish we could all live together in peace. The time I have spent here with the dragoons has helped me to see all of you as-as human beings. We might have been born in different places, might have different political or religious leanings. But deep down, we all just want the same thing. A good life. To love and be loved, to be free of fear and oppression. You said yourself that you fight to keep this land. So do the Continentals. So you're not really that different."

He stared at me a few eternal moments, then shrugged. "You give me your word?"

I nodded. "Absolutely."

"You will travel toward the middle of our convoy. If we are attacked, I have assigned a man to watch out for you. Should we run into battle, you are, under no circumstances, to follow. Is that clear? You ridewell, but you are no warrior."

"I understand."

"Good." He smiled again. "Get some rest. We will be heading out to the fort early tomorrow morning."

I turned to leave, but stopped just before stepping outside. "Good night, Colonel. You should sleep some, too. You've been burning the midnight oil for many days, now."

When he looked up, I could see the surprise clearly etched in the lines about his eyes. "Spying on me, are you?"

I laughed and shook my head. "I've already told you I'm not a spy." Before I said, or worse–did–something stupid, I hurried away.

We were up before the sun. As I rolled out of my cot and stretched, I could hear the sounds of the awakening camp. A light cough drew my attention to the entrance of my tent.

"Miss Hanson? Are you awake?" It was Tavington's voice.

I gasped, just imagining what I looked like.

"Y-yes, I'm awake. I'll be right there." Where was that little piece of a mirror? Not that it would make that much difference. I couldn't see much in the dark.

"Are you decent? May I come in?"

Come in? My heart raced. Why did he want to come into my tent at this hour? It didn't matter. He couldn't see me like this. Oh, and the morning breath! Not that he would be getting that close.

"J-just a moment." I grabbed the silver comb and yanked it through my hair. Pain seared my scalp at my roughness. He wouldn't wait long. But it seemed the harder I tried to hurry, the longer I seemed to take. When I thought my hair was at least presentable, I poked my head outside. "Yes?" I blinked up at the Colonel, who stood holding a lit lantern.

He grinned in amusement, and arched one eyebrow. "May I come in?"

"Why do you want to come into my tent?"

"I simply wish to speak with you...to make a request."

"You can't make your request from there?"

His grin widened. "Miss Hanson, I have nothing but respect for you as a woman. Believe me. You're integrity is safe with me."

"I wasn't–that's not–oh, whatever." I stepped aside and indicated with my hand for him to enter. Otherwise he would think I was afraid. Which, of course I was, and he probably already knew it. But I could at least try to put up a good front.

Stifling a yawn, I stumbled back toward my cot and picked up the comb I'd tossed there a minute before.

Tavington took his time, casually setting the lantern on my little table before turning to face me.

"So what did you wish to say to me?" I asked as I resumed combing my hair. There were no longer any tangles in it, but I needed something to do to occupy my hands and my attention.

He must have enjoyed the nervousness I could not mask, for he continued to stall.

I pulled my hair back to braid it. As I did so, I turned and looked at him. "Well? Are you going to speak, or just stand there watching me do my hair?"

With one long stride, he stepped up to me, taking the now ragged scrunchy from my hand.

"Leave it down." He ran his fingers through what I'd twisted of the braid, setting my hair free once again.

"B-but why? It's not proper–"

"Pull some of it back. But your hair is very pretty hanging down your back."

"Thank you." I turned away, sucking in a deep breath, and picked up the comb again.

"I want you to wear the dress today."

I whirled around to face him. "But–"

"There you go again." He heaved a heavy sigh and shook his head. "Must you always question everything?"

"As you said yourself, I ride much better in my own clothes."

He nodded, then shook his head. "I realize that, but I think it would be better if you wore the dress this time." Tavington looked down, suddenly taking on the appearance of a shy school boy. "I think it would be better for General Cornwallis to see you looking like a woman. And–"

I bit my tongue to not say anything obnoxious. Either he truly was a very good actor, or then he was having a hard time getting out what he wanted to say. An awkward silence descended on us like a thick, wool blanket.

He looked up again and gave a brief smile. A twitch of his lips, really. "I think, should we be set upon by rebels, with you in a dress, they won't mistake you for a man. Not that you really look much like one, even in your odd clothes. But from a distance..." He shrugged. "Just as a safety measure."

I nodded, and could not contain the smile that burst upon my lips. "Thank you for your concern. I will be glad to wear the dress."

He nodded, then hesitantly stepped away. "All right, then. Be ready as quickly as possible. I'll have Wilkins bring you something to eat."

"Again, thank you, Colonel."

With another curt nod, he whisked away and disappeared through the tent exit.

My fingers trembled as I pulled on the "female" clothes. I had not worn them since the first time I had ridden out with the dragoons. I'd managed to get my hands on a few pieces of fabric and some sewing supplies, thanks mostly to Wilkins, and had made up a few new shirts. I cut them in a feminine way, accenting my waist, and leaving a bit of a "tail" that was reminiscent of the tops of 18th century women's dresses. I wore my jeans, taking them off only to wash them out. Those were awkward times, and I used the long under skirts while waiting for the jeans to dry. A time was coming when the jeans would grow too ragged to use anymore. I'd already patched up a few holes in the knees. But I figured I'd worry about that when the time came.

With the skirts and other under things in place, I glanced at the stays. I'd lost some weight in the past couple of weeks. With nothing much to do, when we weren't out riding or I wasn't watching the men drill, I would take long walks through the woods and up the banks of the brook. The exercise and rather restricted diet worked better than any weight-loss program back in my home time period. Any excess weight usually seemed to concentrate about my hips anyway, so I figured, with what I'd lost around my middle I just might get away with not having to use that nasty corset. I slipped into the dress, and let out a shriek of delight.

"Yippee! No stays!"

When we set out, the sun had just begun to rise. The sky looked like an artist's pallet. First a little yellow and orange seeped through the gray dawn. Slowly the colors mixed, blending into a reddish purple, then slowly giving way to blue. Gazing at the beauty of nature, I had a hard time believing a war was going on around me. Of course, I had seen little of it anyway, for which I was glad. But I had a feeling, maybe a premonition, that my "luck" was about to change.

The sun stood proudly in place when we rode into the fort.Several wagons were loaded and ready to set out. General Cornwallis himself strode from the main building, up to Colonel Tavington.

"Good. You're here." The general glanced up at me, then frowned. "You're not planning on taking the young lady along, are you?"

"Actually–" Tavington coughed, then plastered on a polite smile. "Yes, I had planned to take her with me."

"Don't you think it would be safer for her to stay here?"

My heart sank. I didn't want to stay at the fort, no matter if it would be safer.

"I'm sure you are correct, my lord." Tavington bowed his head, then shot a look at me. He must have seen my aversion to the thought of staying, for he smiled with renewed energy and looked back at the general. "Miss Hanson is aware of the dangers, and she has chosen to go with us. I believe she is trying to make amends for past mistakes, and hopes her presence with us will keep the Ghost from attacking."

Cornwallis furrowed his brows. "You don't really believe that, Colonel. Your 'Ghost' is not conventional in any way. Surely the presence of a woman he deems a loyalist, and therefore an enemy, would not keep him from doing what he does best."

"No sir, of course not." He leaned in closer to the general and whispered, but still loud enough that I could hear. "But she thinks it might help." He shrugged, straightening himself. "If it will help to clear her conscience..."

"I don't like it." Cornwallis shook his head.

"Neither do I, sir," Tavington purred, "but I have taken precautions. She will be kept safe."

Cornwallis stared hard at the colonel. "I hope so. For your sake, as well as hers. She better not be hurt. And maybe it's about time she is returned to her home."

The clenching in my stomach nearly made me throw up my breakfast. Home? That place was becoming a distant, blissful memory. But here, it did not exist. Where would I go?

Who was I kidding? Certainly not myself. Where to go was the least of my concerns, and certainly not the cause of my stomach discomfort. The truth was, I wanted to stay with the dragoons. With Tavington.

I gazed at the man while he continued to speak with the general. Had I fallen in love with him? There was nothing loveable about him, yet... No, it wasn't love. Couldn't be. You had to spend time doing things with a person, sharing in the same kinds of fun activities. You had to have something in common. A kindred spirit, so to speak. Tavington was everything I had ever vowed to NOT love. We had nothing in common, except, maybe, the enjoyment of our verbal fencing matches. That wasn't love. Still entered the category of physical attraction. Well, that was a relief.

I could no longer hear the conversation between Tavington and Cornwallis, the general having pulled the colonel away, out of my earshot. That bothered me, for I was certain the general would find some way to make me stay. I sat atop Shadow for a few, very long minutes, waiting...watching them for a sign ofwhich waythe conversation flowed. Finally, Tavington strode away, a victorious smile on his face.

"Shall we be off?" He swung up onto his horse, then turned to me. "Would you rather stay behind?"

I threw him an impatient glare. "You know better than that."

He shrugged, wiping the grin from his face. "I just wanted to be sure." Then with a nod, he kicked his horse into action and cantered away from me.

Nope. It wasn't love. Couldn't be.