Andrew woke up in the middle of a field, being poke by a teenager holding a branch. The young boy yelled for his father to come. As he tried to stand up, he felt dizzy and lost his balance. The man coming closer rushed to his side.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"Yeah, no. I don't know. Am I too late for the wedding?" Andrew asked.
"Wedding? I sure heard of no wedding around here. Are you lost, young man?"
"Yeah, I think so," Andrew looked around; no sign of his friends.
"My name is Benjamin Martin, and this is my boy Thomas. Let's bring you into the house for tonight, those woods are never sure at night and battles come and go these days. Thomas, go to the house and warn Abigail to prepare one more meal for our guest, mister…"
"Andrew Miller," he replied as they started to walk toward the house.
Once they reached the porch, a woman and many children came to his encounter. That was when Andrew noticed their odd clothing. He thought about those Amish people he already saw in the market in Philadelphia on his last business trip and paid it no more attention.
He was led into a room where Abigail prepared bath for him and fresh clean clothes were laying on the bed. After all, he was lying in the mud when he woke up and would clearly enjoy being clean to eat with this generous family. As he removed his dirty tux, he looked around the room; no plug or charger for his phone, candles and no interrupters. His eyes surveyed the small desk and focussed on the date on top of one of the opened letter: 1778. He took a minute to digest the information and could hardly believe it. How could this have happened? And where was Matt when his knowledge was needed?
"Sir? Is everything to your liking?" Abigail enquired through the door.
"Yes, thank you," he quickly replied and carried on undressing.
"The meal will be served shortly."
"Thank you, I will be there."
He quickly washed, changed and got downstairs. He followed the voices that led to the kitchen, where 6 children were already sitting down. He heard fireworks afar, but paid it no more attention.
"We'll have to fight them off," one child said as Andrew sat down with all of them.
"Won't father do that?"
"They'll kill us, man. And do what Lord knows to you, women."
"Nathan," Abigail cut him short.
They were cut short by a man entering the living room, badly wounded. Andrew stayed out of the way; Benjamin seemed to know how to handle the situation and to know the wounded soldier. He stayed close enough to hear the men talk and he understood this was one of his sons. He also understood it was not fireworks he heard earlier, but gunshots.
Andrew had always been so bad with history in school; Matt was the one good with dates. His mind wandered to his friends; where could they be? He was not to go outside and look for them; he had no sense of orientation whatsoever. His best luck at surviving that hard time was to stay with this man and used his protection. Yeah, that's what he'll do.