Hey y'all. Thanks again for the reviews.
We're getting close to the end. Just a note. I realize the battle scene in the movie where our darling Tavy is killed takes place in October. Since I am choosing, for the purpose of this story, to have this battle be the Battle of Cowpens, I am using the historical date for Cowpens, which was January rather than October. So a slight deviation from the movie, but taking my own dramatic license and mixing in some regular history (only the date, mind you.)
Oh yes...one more thing. I forgot to mentionwith the last chapter. Forgive my irresponsibility in not researching morphine. (Back in the chapter where Tavy was injured.) A very kind reader pointed out to me that they didn't use morphine yet during the Revolution. Ah...the hazzards of writing! A big mistake, and I humbly apologize.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Patriot or any of its characters.
Chapter 24
The next few weeks passed like a dream. I discovered a whole new side of William, a side that, despite my love for him, I would never have expected. He was sweet, romantic, gentle. We spent many evenings gazing at the stars...days, walking hand in hand beside the stream. We talked of the past, of his life in England, and frustrations with his family, particularly his father. I noticed, however, that he avoided any talk of the future. As casually as I could, I asked him about it one day.
"William." I grabbed his hand as I picked my way through the woods on the way to the stream.
"Hm?"
"What will you do when this war is over?"
He was silent for several moments, his gaze glued to the ground. At first I thought maybe he had not heard me, or had been off somewhere else in his thoughts.
"William?"
"I heard you."
"Well?"
He stopped, pulling me in front of him, and smiled. "I don't know what I will do, exactly. I can't know if I will even survive the war."
"Of course, but certainly you have some plan in the event you do survive."
He nodded, then reached out and brushed back a lock of my hair that had blown into my face. "I haven't given it too much thought, to be honest. There's...a possibility of a small land grant, but if you want to know if you are a part of my plans for the future, that decision is not really mine to make. It is completely up to you."
"Up to me?"
He took my chin in his fingers, lifting my face as he gazed into my eyes. "Do you want to be a part of my future, Laura?"
"Do I? Are you nuts? Why do you think–"
William's arms snaked about my waist, pulling me to him. "You talk too much, woman." He grinned, then kissed me.
Whenever he did that, I could barely think straight. I pushed away, just enough to break the kiss.
"Don't do that when I'm trying to talk seriously with you." I punched him lightly in the chest while he laughed at me.
"Very well." The merriment drained from his face. He took me by the hand and led me to the fallen log beside the stream where, so many months ago, I had run from his early attempts to charm me. We sat, and he took both my hands in his.
"Laura, darling. For many years I ran from the entanglements of love. I had nothing to offer a wife. No money, a tarnished family name, thanks to my father. Before I could even think of settling down I had to build something, and I've done my best to advance myself through victories in this war." He looked down for a second. "I never allowed myself to feel anything for any woman. Until you came along. And I admit, I tried to shun you from my heart as well, but almost losing you--twice--showed me the truth." He sucked in a deep breath, as if what he had to say was the most difficult thing in the world. But bravely, he looked up and faced me, eye to eye. "I have fallen utterly, deeply, madly in love with you. I want nothing better than to marry you and spend the rest of my days with you."
"Then it's settled."
He shook his head, again looking away from me. "I can't. I cannot in good conscience ask you to marry me when my life could be taken any time I go into battle." He snorted a laugh. "Any time I leave this camp, with your Ghost still at large."
"Don't you think that should be my choice? Life is so uncertain. Anything could happen. Death is everywhere. Would you deprive me of what time we might spend together because of a 'what if?' That's not fair."
"Life isn't fair, now is it?" He ran the back of his hand down the line of my cheek. "I'll tell you what. I promise you, that if we both make it through the war alive, whatever the outcome, I will ask you to marry me."
"Well, we have a little under a year. I suppose that's a proper amount of time for a courtship, huh?"
His forehead wrinkled as he gave me a curious frown. "A little under a year? How can you possibly know that?"
I shrugged. "I just do. October, 1781. Yorktown. Cornwallis is going to surrender."
"So you can see into the future?" He grinned.
"No, I have read about the past." I waved the air in front of me impatiently. "But that's not important. What is important is the battle that will take place on January 17. You're going to lose, and it's going to be ugly." Doubt and confusion registered in the depths of his blue eyes. I could not bring myself to tell him the worse part. "Just please, listen to me. Stay away from Benjamin Martin. He's-"
"Oh, I see." He smiled and pulled me to him. "I'm truly touched by your concern, but I know what I'm doing."
"Yes, and I know you are capable, but--" It was no use. And frankly, I couldn't blame him. I probably sounded like a lunatic. I would just have to stick to my original plan and do what I could to interfere at the battle scene itself.
January blew in, cold and gusty. With each day that passed, my heart twisted in fear. I tried to make the most of my time with William, but he was often gone, or closeted in his tent with his captains.
The 17th dawned with a cruel nip in the air. I woke with a chill, and had to fight the urge to dig deeper under the blanket. I had a mission, the most important of my entire life, and I could not snooze even a few more minutes. I stood and stretched out the kinks in my back, then hurried to dress. As I stepped into the frigid weather, I looked about for William. He stood in front of his tent, instructing his men, all of them ready and standing beside their mounts. As I approached, he turned and frowned.
"One moment," he said to the men, then took me by the arm and pulled me to the side. "What do you think you're doing?"
"I'm going with you."
"No. I won't allow it."
"You can't stop me." I grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him down so his nose was almost touching mine. "You are going to die. If you are not careful, Benjamin Martin is going to kill you. I know this. It's in all the history books where I come from." I sucked in a breath as his face contorted into disbelief and maybe a little disappointment at my seeming lunacy. I had to talk fast. "You don't have to believe me. Just be careful. Stay away from Martin."
"You're not trying to suggest that ridiculous story of yours when we first met, that you come from the future, are you?"
"I'm not suggesting anything, except for you to stay away from the Martins. There are two of them now, and I'm sure they both would love to see you dead." I wrapped my arms about his neck and kissed him, long and hard. If my warnings and other actions this day were not successful, I would never feel this again. "Hold me, tighter," I whispered, and relished for maybe the last time, the feel of his arms about me.
"I'll come back to you, Laura. I promise," he whispered back.
"Don't make a promise you can't keep!"
"I'm not. I will come back, alive." He held me at arm's length and smiled. "I have a strong reason to want to live, now. You've given me that."
He pulled away from me and hurried to his horse. I watched as he mounted, then rode to the front of the line of dragoons. Without a backward glance, they took off.
I only waited long enough for them to be on their way, then I rushed to saddle my horse. There was no way I would sit back at the camp and wait for bad news.
I had spared Shadow for several days, giving him only so much exercise, mostly a light walk about, or a casual trot. In doing so, I hoped he would be more anxious than usual to run at top speed. Keeping a safe enough distance behind the dragoons that I would not be noticed, I followed them to the open field where the battle had already begun.
Two lines of men faced each other. The rebels pointed their rifles and a cloud of smoke rose along with the burst of musket fire. Just as the smoke settled, the line of British fired. Men, like sitting ducks, fell on both sides.
The dragoons waited, hidden in a wooded area behind the British lines. From my vantage point, I watched William look through his spyglass. As he put it away, I prayed he would just hang back, be careful. Of course, I should have known better. In almost the same movement that he put the spyglass away, he drew out his saber. He turned his head to the side. I could not hear, but from the expression on Wilkins' face, I figured what he said was not positive. Suddenly, he pointed his saber straight ahead and shouted.
"Charge!"
The dragoons flooded the field, like a sea of red and green. As soon as the rebel line saw them coming, they got off one more round of shots then turned and ran. Once again, I watched, my heart in my throat. This was history...my history. Never in my life would I have believed I would have the chance to actually watch a battle considered by historians to be one of the major turning points of the war. I had seen the re-enactments at the Cowpens National Battlefield, had cheered the American victory. But now, that victory was bittersweet. Yes, I wanted the victory. I wouldn't be truly American if I didn't. But at what cost? Maybe I was not as much a patriot as those men who now fought for my liberty, for I was not willing to make the same sacrifice. Or maybe I was. I would more gladly give my own life than face life without my William.
I watched as the rebels ran over a hill and disappeared. The regulars and dragoons were hot on their tails. As they went over the hill, I could see nothing but more smoke rising. I didn't think. I spurred Shadow into a gallop.
I made it to the top of the hill, then halted. Below me raged a much worse scene than the one I'd witnessed the day the dragoons had accompanied the supply wagons. This was all out battle. Hand to hand combat. I searched through the confusion for William. Relieved, I saw him unharmed and slicing his way through the throng of warriors.
The rebel line began to break. Militia as well as the Continental soldiers ran, several shouting retreat. Then I saw Martin. He ran, holding a Betsy Ross flag. The most beautiful of colonial American flags, in my opinion.
"Hold the line!" He yelled, as he ran up the steps of a ruined building and waved the flag. His courage amazed me, and I couldn't help but admire the man. All of them, actually. In a turn around that might defy belief, the colonials turned the tide. With shouts, they charged back up the hill and through the ruins, surprising the British. Bodies fell everywhere.
And then they found each other.
I could almost hear the click as Tavington and Martin locked gazes. Or maybe I should say glares. Pure hatred emanated from both men, and it scared me. William spurred his horse into a full gallop toward Martin. In turn, Martin tightened his grip on the flag pole and ran as if to meet William. I could no longer hesitate. I kicked Shadow into action, dodging swords and bodies. If I could cut William off, if I could just get his attention elsewhere...
Time felt suspended. I seemed to move at half speed. The air about me grew dreadfully cold, as if the temperature had suddenly dropped ten degrees or more. Oh no! Not this! I pumped my heels into Shadow's side, urging him faster. I had to reach Tavington before...
I could barely breathe. The air seemed to be sucked right out of my lungs. Everything turned fuzzy, but not before I saw Martin just in front of me, kneeling on the ground and holding the flag like a pike. I turned my head to the side. William charged, saber pointed forward. His eyes grew wide as he saw me, and he raised his sword. I saw his mouth move, Get out of the way, Laura! but I heard nothing.
Shadow leaped to avoid Martin. Still I gasped for breath, my strength ebbing out of me. I felt my body slip to the side, but I tried hard to hold on.
Blackness.
I opened my eyes, but for a few frightening seconds, I could not focus. My body ached all over, particularly my head.
"She's coming to," an unfamiliar male voice spoke.
"Laura? Sweetheart, are you ok?"
I began to focus, and looked up into warm brown eyes filled with concern.
"Uncle Dave?"