8.

When William Tavington woke the morning following his bizarre experience with in Fiddle's Green, he still couldn't decide exactly what it was he had been through. A dream? A hallucination? Whatever it was, it had left him anxious and unsettled and the first thing he felt he needed to do was speak to Mr. Mitchel.

He was relieved to find the old man safe and sound at his home and used the excuse of planning another fishing trip as his reason for visiting. There were a few matters he wanted to clarify in private without Bart sneering at every chance.

That Sunday, when the two were finally alone during their walk to the creek, he brought up the experience. Not just to gauge Mitchel's reaction to the whole thing, but also as a catalyst to discuss the man's daughter.

"I have to tell you, sir that I'm quite relieved that you are well. I had a rather disturbing dream the other night and wondered if I would wake to find you had passed," Tavington said.

Mitchel cut him off with a wave of his hand, "I don't even want to know. I have lived a full life. Outlived my wife…but I've raised my children and seen my grandkids and that's enough for me."

"You are not afraid of dying?"

"No I can't say that," Mitchel said with a chuckle. "Death doesn't scare me, but the dying part, yes. I wouldn't mind so much going to sleep one night and never waking. But I never wanted to die on the battlefield away from my family as my brother did." He shook his head and then he added almost as an afterthought. "And the thought of drowning disturbs me…."

"Yes, I see your point," Tavington said almost awkwardly.

It was strange in a way to be talking about death and dying so openly with his new mentor. As they walked Tavington even disclosed to Mr. Mitchel his own near death experience at Cowpens and how fortunate he was to survive it. Mitchel never said a word or interjected at any time. He simply let Tavington speak. Tavington gave a watered down explanation of the injuries Ben Martin had caused and why. Not once did Mr. Mitchel let on that he judged Tavington for it. And a very relieved Tavington chalked it up to the fact that Mitchel had served in a very brutal war himself, leaving it at that.

Tavington wondered if he would have ever been able to discuss such things with his own father, and if that kind of discussion would have prepared him for his father's eventual passing. But considering his father had barely prepared him for life let alone death, Tavington seriously doubted it. "I think if it were left up to mankind we would all die doing whatever it is that pleases us the most….but that's not the only reason I brought it up, sir."

"No?" Mitchel asked with a sideways glance.

"No," Tavington said. "The dream it….it made me evaluate some things. And I've finally realized that I need to change direction in my life. Coming to Ohio was a start that much is certain. But I want more than this. Not in the material sense mind you…."

Mitchel cut him off again, "A man your age would want to start a family."

"Yes."

Mitchel stopped in the middle of the path and turned to Tavington, frowning. "And what has that got to do with me?"

"I would like your permission to openly court your daughter. With the goal of marrying her, of course," Tavington said, meeting the old man's gaze eye to eye. He secretly hoped that Mitchel would not deny him because of the things he had just confessed about his past.

Mitchel sighed heavily and hesitated with his reply. "There are things about Esther you might not understand…."

This time it was Tavington who interrupted. "She has told me about what happened in Concord…about the circumstances of Jason's birth. And I accept that."

Mitchel brows rose with his astonishment. "She told you, eh? And she knows what your intentions are?"

"Yes, sir," Tavington nodded. "Although I haven't formally proposed to her, she knows what my intentions are and that I care for her and your grandson."

Mitchel started to walk on saying, "Well then, I suppose that settles it." Then he stopped again and turned to say, "If you hurt her or my grandson, I'll see you dead, Tavington. It's bad enough the way Bart and his boy treat them- it's a lot like living in a war zone. But I won't have it from the man that promises to honor and cherish her. And if you take her as your wife, you take Jason as your son too."

Tavington smiled. "I understand completely, sir."

Now the task at hand for Tavington was figuring out a how he would court Esther. He knew that the tactics he had used in the past would never do. Tavington had never courted a woman before, let alone with the intentions of marrying her. So this was a new concept for him as well as for Esther. In the past he had simply seduced the object of his desires whenever he felt the need for a sexual encounter. And if he failed with one woman, he paid another for it. However, Esther was no object, she was wife material.

Tavington had managed to take her flowers one day under the guise of helping Jason pick them for her. That small effort had gotten him a glare from Bart, a wink from old man Mitchel and a knowing smile from Esther. Tavington thought things would be easier now that they had spoken and gotten things out in the open. But he found that while Esther seemed less intimidated by his advances, he seemed to worry more about making an ass of himself.

Soon enough the insane Ohio weather gave Tavington the plenty of opportunity to plan his next move. Summer storms passed through off and on for three days, making work almost impossible and even keeping Jason away.

As he stood in the doorway of his cabin watching the warm summer rain pour from the sky, he thought about what Esther and Jason might be doing. Knowing Esther, Tavington thought she was probably at her spinning wheel or perhaps helping Jason with his lessons at the table. Then later she would make her way out to the barn to milk her beloved Sweetie, whom she treated more as a pet than anything else. It was with that thought that an idea began to form in Tavington's mind.

Tavington checked his watch, finding that he had time to put his plan into effect. He stripped off his shirt and pulled out a fresh one from his trunk along with his shaving kit.

After removing the rest of his clothes, he grabbed his good soap-not the odd smelling lye soap- and stepped outside. Tavington stood under the eave at the corner of his cabin and the downpour of rain coming from the roof made for a quick and easy bath. Once finished, he went back inside, dried off and began the task of removing his beard. He had already decided the beard had to go. It itched and was too patchy in places and this was the perfect time and reason to get rid of it.

With his beard gone, his hair combed and tied back, Tavington dressed in his new uniform of sorts; shirt, waistcoat, breeches, boots, hat. He grabbed a coat, but only to guard against the rain and left for the Mitchel's, dodging puddles along the way.

The creek was high from the rain, but not so high he couldn't cross over the rocks. And when Tavington arrived at the Mitchel's he snuck around into the barn and waited, peering through the crack in the door. He watched for Esther and when he saw her coming across the barnyard with her cloak pulled over her head, he peeped his head out and opened the door for her. Esther looked up and saw him. She stopped in surprise for a second, her face lighting up with a smile as she picked up her steps to reach him.

Once inside, she shook the rain off her cloak and tossed it over the side of a stall where his coat lay. Breathlessly she asked, "What are you doing out here?"

"I came over to see you," Tavington answered mildly.

"You could have come to the house," Esther said as she pulled her milking stool over to where Sweetie was waiting patiently. She gave Sweetie a fistful of hay, wiped the heifer's teats with a clean rag and set her milk pail under the udders.

"I wanted to speak to you privately."

"Oh?" She asked in mild amusement. He was up to something and she knew it. "So speak to me."

"I'll wait until you're done."

Tavington came around to watch what she was doing and made small talk. "What breed of cow is this?"

"Sweetie's a Jersey cow," Esther said giving the heifer a pat on her belly. She leaned in and rested her head against Sweetie's side and began milking. The milk made a hissing sound as the streams hit the bottom of the pail. "Jersey's come from France. Ain't that right, Sweetie."

The golden-brown heifer looked back as if she actually understood what her lady was saying.

"Does she moo with a French accent?" Tavington teased sarcastically. Esther rolled her eyes at him.

It wasn't long before Esther finished and she salved the heifer's teats to keep them from getting sore. She stood up, moving the pail out of the way so that it would not be knocked over. Esther turned to face Tavington and it was then she noticed something different about him.

"William…you shaved," she said stepping closer to see his new look.

His lips curved into an amused smirk. "So you noticed? It had to come off, I couldn't stand it anymore."

Esther reached out, passing her fingertip over the new smoothness of his cheek. The touch was completely innocent and yet it had a strange effect on him. For a moment, Tavington held his breath until she took her hand away.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" She asked, snapping him back to attention.

Tavington look at her sweet face, trying to find the right words to say without scaring her. "Well, I seem to remember you mentioning that you have missed out on a few things since coming to Ohio."

Esther looked puzzled. "I did?"

"You mentioned you never had a first kiss. I think we should remedy that," Tavington answered coyly, watching her reaction carefully.

Esther blushed furiously. "So I did." And then her heart skipped because she knew then that he wanted to kiss her. He was standing so close and she knew she wanted to kiss him too. But she had no idea how badly until it happened.

Esther felt his hands grasp her waist and slowly pull her closer. Then his face was above hers and he smelled so good. His brilliant blue eyes were heavily lidded as he bent his head to kiss her. Esther instinctively raised her hands to his shoulders and closed her eyes just as his lips came down on hers. The warming effect it had on her was instant, causing a shock throughout her body all at once.

Esther had no idea what to do and Tavington could sense it. She didn't know how to kiss or what to do with her mouth. So, he would just have to teach her.

Tavington pulled back slightly and took her lips in small, persistent kisses until she followed his lead, copying his movements. When her lips parted over his, he seized them, sealing his mouth over hers. He deepened his kiss when he felt her respond to him and he let his hands briefly rove over her back. He would not take it any further than that though. He knew if he did, he may not be able to stop himself.

Tavington finally broke the kiss and drew his head back and watched Esther slowly open her eyes. She gazed up at him and sighed tremulously.

"Well?" He asked, raising his brows expectantly.

Still dazed, Esther could only nod her approval.

A catch of laughter escaped him. "You should probably get back to the house. Everyone will wonder where you are."

"Won't you come with me?" She asked, adding to temp him, "I made bread pudding."

Tavington draped her cloak around her shoulders and handed the milk pail to her. And as much as he would have liked to go with her, he turned her down, knowing she would think about him as much as he thought of her once he was gone. "I think I've had enough sweets for the day."

He escorted her out of the barn and made his way home, feeling pretty damn good about himself.