That night. Before that night, Caleb Brewster had never thought much of his friend's wife. In fact, Mary Woodhull was practically a stranger. A woman he knew of; a woman he had heard of; but never one he had been introduced to. He remembered hearing whispers about Thomas Woodhull's engagement. But he had never been close with Thomas; couldn't stand how the man was so like his father; so he hadn't paid much mind to the whisperings.
Before he enlisted, when he was still working as a sailor, he was away from home often enough. But even then, he made it his business to keep up with the local gossip whenever he could. It was through that when he learned of the tragedy that took the life of Thomas. He knew all about Abe's quick marriage to his brother's fiancée. Caleb thought it a strange match, but, truth was, he hadn't seen Abe in a long time. Perhaps it wasn't so strange after all?
He remembered the first time he finally saw his friend's wife. It was when they were back in Setauket, trying to save his uncle and Ben's father. He saw her in the tavern. He had found her to be a pretty woman. And although things were so hectic that day, she seemed like she might make good company as well… for a Tory lady.
But that was all he ever thought of her. Just fleeting thoughts. Thoughts that would go as quickly as they came; only ever present when her name was mentioned by Abe. So when Abe told him it was time that he and his family leave Setauket, Caleb hadn't thought much of it. He would simply head out of the Continental encampment, get to his boat, and row across the Sound, waiting at the cove to retrieve the Missus and her son before ferrying them back.
That was the plan. So, why was he now tiptoeing through the woods? Covered in a thin sheen of sweat, chest heaving, his pistol in hand. Whatever had happened, the dreaded Captain Simcoe and his Rangers had discovered their plot. All Caleb knew was that something had gone wrong. All he knew was that he had been chased away from his boat. He reckoned it would be safe to return now. To escape. But he couldn't leave in good conscious. Not without first inquiring after Abe's wife and son.
He took the long route through the woods. Trying to get back to Judge Woodhull's estate. He figured, if anything, he might as well check there first. It was nightfall by time the thicket became sparse as he reached the edge of the woods. He could see the clearing up ahead where Whitehall was situated up; the windows of the estate were illuminated by candlelight. But suddenly he found himself stopping dead in his tracks. A single gunshot pierced through the air.
It was nowhere near him. It was up ahead. Up by the house. He hunkered down, approaching the edge of the woods ever more cautiously than before. He was expecting to see Rangers surrounding the property. But instead he saw a single figure. It was a woman. He could tell that much from the silhouette. She was running along the side of the house. His eyes briefly darted to what she was running from. And that's when he saw it. An unmoving figure laying in the grass beside the house.
He scrunched his nose in confusion. It didn't make sense to him yet. He looked back at the woman and watched her as she slipped in a side entrance to the house. When she opened the door, light flooded outside, and he could see her more clearly now. It was Mary Woodhull, and she had a musket gripped in her hand.
There were shouts in the distance, and he turned his attention to that. A man stumbled out of the front doors, and Caleb knew from the man's height that it was the dreaded Captain Simcoe himself. But the man appeared unwell. He had a hand raised, clutching the side of his head. Although it was dark, Caleb just knew that there was blood was gushing from between the Captain's fingers.
Two Rangers quickly joined their leader at the front of the house, and the Captain began shouting orders. Caleb couldn't make out what they were though. He considered moving from his position, but that's when he noticed a third Ranger round the corner. He slowed his pace when he came upon the figure laying on the ground. And then he, too, hurried to the front of the house. It was mass confusion. The men all hurried to look at the figure together. Caleb knew from their reaction that the unmoving figure was dead.
It didn't take long for him to piece together what had happened. She had been responsible for the man laying dead on the ground. And, more importantly, she had shot Simcoe. She. Mary Woodhull. The unassuming loyalist wife. His friend's wife.
Caleb felt a grin tugging on his lips. "She's got them running around in circles." He could hear the admiration in his own voice.
He quickly shook the feeling though. He could commend Mrs. Woodhull on her quick thinking at a later time. The danger was still very present though, and now his only thought was giving Mary enough time to hide the evidence of what she had done.
So, Caleb lifted his arm, and he fired his pistol into the sky. The shot echoed across the space, and it did not take long for several Rangers to reemerge from inside the house. When they began to near the part of the woods he was hidden in, and as they began to shoot into the underbrush, that's when he turned on his heels and fled deeper into the woods. He could hear the sound of the Rangers behind him. But suddenly all of that seemed less important. Instead, as he made the hurried trek back to the cove, his mind was full of thoughts of his friend's wife.
That was the night Caleb Brewster fell a little in love with Mary Woodhull.