Chapter 8

Dear Ben,
Oh, how do I even begin? We are living in a world of darkness and terror. Battles have broken out here in Williamsburg. Many are not too far away from us. We hide in the cellar for hours, even days sometimes. I worry about Father when he is away. With the fighting here, we never know if he will return. The British ransacked the store for supplies, but at least they didn't hurt anybody...yet. Many innocent civilians have lost their houses or have been killed. The town is filled with smoke and debris. Food is hard to come by, and one can forget about new clothes. Tis not uncommon to pass by a house you passed by everyday and see it destroyed. Tis also not uncommon to walk by what used to be a public square or something and see hundreds of bloody, dead soldiers. Of course, you see that all the time, so it probably doesn't bother you as much, but it bothers me. The palace has become a hospital. I hate to think of that once splendid, grand place where Elizabeth and I went to the dance lesson, the one with the chandeliers and large portraits and beautiful, elegant rooms and even more beautiful gardens (the American version of the palace of Versailles, I guess you could say) now filled with cots and dying soldiers. A place of laughter and aloofness has become a place of suffering and death. Oh Ben, will this ever end? For a sixteen year old girl, I feel this is making me old before my time. Do you ever feel that way?
On a happier note, Caleb and Elizabeth are engaged to be married! He asked her on her sixteenth birthday, and she accepted. There is more to it than that, though. You see, they courted in secret, even after the Coles strictly forbid her from seeing him again. Meanwhile, Elizabeth changed her mind in politics. She started to think that perhaps we Patriots were right; it is time to break away from England. Then her parents decided to move back to England. They said that it would be safer there, and they could be with Annabelle. Besides, it would do no good to stay in a country that didn't support their king, would it? Elizabeth refused to go, and that is when she broke the news that she had changed her mind, and more importantly, that Caleb had asked her to marry him. Well, you can imagine her parents' reaction to that! They said no, absolutely not, but Elizabeth stood up for herself and held her ground. She said that she would stay here and marry Caleb; they could do whatever they wanted. Soon, they realized they had no choice. They left for England, leaving their youngest daughter behind. She is staying with us now until she and Caleb get married, which will be October nineteenth. 'Twas hard on her parents to leave without her, and it will be hard for her to get married without her family being there, but she chose love over politics. I think this was very brave of her; I don't know if I could say goodbye to my family forever for a man I loved.
Well, I've taken enough of your time. Don't lose hope; I won't if you won't. I miss you more than I can say.
-Felicity

It was mid October of 1781. Throughout the year, battles were won, and battles were lost. Ben was worried about the Merrimans back in Williamsburg with some of the fighting there, especially from what Felicity had said in her letter months earlier. He wished he were there; it might have made him feel as though he were protecting them. Moreover, maybe he would have even been able to see them. But no such luck.

In May, according to Daniel, Clara had gotten married. This really didn't upset Ben as Daniel thought it might have. Ben was never serious about Clara; she was what Felicity would call "a fling". Truthfully, he had never been serious about anyone. He had felt an initial attraction for a couple of girls over his twenty-one (almost twenty-two) years, but never that big, somewhat scary word called love. He didn't think he had it in him to genuinely love a woman, and really, that was just fine with him. It saved him a lot of unnecessary trouble, the way he looked at it.
Not too long ago, the English lord Cornwallis (that was just fun to say because it sounded so ridiculous, especially in a hoity-toity British accent) had moved his main army to none other than Yorktown itself, which was where Ben and his troop were, fighting them off. While he worried about his family, being in his hometown gave Ben that sense of protection over them, which made him feel important and noble. Like a brave knight risking his life to protect his family. He liked this analogy. Anyway, by late summer, the British only controlled Charles Town, South Carolina, and Savannah, Georgia. Since Yorktown was on a peninsula, this meant that not only were the British facing the Americans on land, but also the French at sea. Ben thought this extremely foolish on Cornwallis' part, but knowing the British, they'd get out of it somehow or other.

It was a cool, clear evening. Another battle the next day. This battle had been going on for days now, neither side giving up. "They're surrounded either way," said John as they ate supper around the fire. "If I were Cornwallis, I'd just quit."
"He will figure out a way," said Ben gloomily. "I just wish one side would retreat already! I'm tired of worrying about my family's safety."
"I forgot that you're from here," said John. "You don't even get nervous before battle anymore, do you?"
Ben shrugged. "Not as much as I used to," he said. "I figure I've made it this far; what should make any other battle different?"
"Never know," said John. "You could lose a limb like Luke." Ben shuddered. In his opinion, amputation was scarier than death itself. It was something he did not want to have to go through. "I doubt it," he said. "Luke just wasn't paying attention; I do. I do that, and I'll be fine." John smiled a little. "Don't get too big for your britches, Davidson," he warned. "Only God Himself knows what will become of you." Ben just rolled his eyes. "God has nothing to do with it," he scoffed. "I can make sure of my own fate." John shook his head as if to say, "You silly, silly boy." "I'd like to see what you say at the Day of Judgment," he half-joked. "I don't think God appreciates arrogance."
"I'm not arrogant," Ben argued. "I can just look out for myself, is all." John just smiled and shook his head. "I wouldn't test The Lord if I were you," he said. "He can do whatever He likes with you, which includes making sure you get hit with a British bayonet and dying."
"Aren't you an encouraging friend," said Ben sarcastically. John held up his hands. "I'm just warning you of the consequences," he said. "For thinking you know everything. I'm just saying that your fate is up to God, and He can do to you whatever He feels you deserve."
"John?"
"What?"
"You're full of it."

The next day was a clear, crisp October day. They were in combat (what else was new?). Men fell on both sides, lots of blood shed. To Ben, this was just another aspect of daily life. He didn't get scared anymore. "If I die," he reasoned. "It will give me an excuse to get out of here." After all, he had survived through far worse over the course of four years. What would be any different of some insignificant battle? As long as he paid attention, he would be fine. Luck nor God Himself had anything to do with it, no matter what John said. Ben could look out for himself, and this alone would protect him.

The battle went on late into the afternoon. Gunshots and cannons rang in his ears. While taking aim and firing, his mind drifted to Felicity, of all people. She was nearly sixteen and a half now. He wondered if she was engaged by now. It had been a while since he had heard from her; anything could have happened. Perhaps her parents found a nice suitor for her, or maybe she even found someone on her own. It was hard to imagine Felicity as a young lady, ready to be courted and married. Hand to hand combat proceeded, and Ben mindlessly tried to fight off the other man. In a way, continued his train of thought, he didn't really want to see how much Felicity had grown. He didn't want to see a proper young lady; he wanted to see the spunky little girl he had left four years ago. "Maybe she still will be," he thought. "This is Felicity, after all." He now started to gain control over the other soldier and fight him off. He whipped out his pocketknife in defense, and as it neared the other soldier's chest, the man quickly gained the upper hand and rammed him...well, between the legs. Ben winced in pain and crumpled in a heap to the ground. "That hurt," he thought. He tried to stand back up when suddenly, a sharp pain- sharper than the one before-shot through his right arm. It felt like fire was spreading. He grabbed his arm, and his hand became stained with blood. He realized it was his own, and that was when the world went black.
...He was sixteen again. He stood behind the counter of Mr. Merriman's store, helping to close up for the night. Felicity sat on top of the counter, begging for a piece of rock candy. He, in turn, taunted her by holding it above his head where she couldn't reach it. She kept trying, yet he wouldn't let her. "Ben, please," she begged between laughs. He grinned. "I told you," he teased. "Only if you can get it." She reached higher, and she fell, bringing him down with her. She wrestled it out of his hand and popped it in her mouth triumphantly. "I told you I could get it," she said...

Ben's eyes now fluttered open. He was on his back, staring up at a canvas ceiling. Flies flitted back and forth. He realized he was lying on a cot, not on the ground. He heard moans of pain around him. Then he noticed a woman by his side. For a second, he honestly thought it was Felicity. How-what?However, when she spoke, the voice wasn't right. "Good," she said with a small smile. That smile seemed awfully familiar. "You're awake. Can you tell me your name?"
"Benjamin Davidson," he whispered hoarsely. "How old are you?" she asked. "Twenty-one," he answered. "Almost twenty-two."
"And when will you be twenty-two?"
"On the fifteenth."
"Can you tell me where you are from?"
"Here-in Yorktown." He knew those brown eyes somewhere. "Well, no memory problems," she said cheerfully. "That's good."
"Wait," he said. "Who are you? And where am I?" Her smile fell. "In the hospital," she explained. "I'm one of the nurses. Well, one of two, really." There was something in her voice, something about her demeanor... "Diana?" he whispered. She smiled again. "Tis good to see you again, Ben," she said. "Even in this state." He frowned. "What do you mean, 'even in this state'?" he asked. "What happened to me?" Her smile dropped again. "You don't remember anything, do you?" she asked softly. He racked his brain trying to remember. "No," he finally admitted. "I've no idea why I'm here." She sighed. "Long story short," she said. "You were shot in your right arm." Ben briefly recalled a sensation of pain in his arm. "Tis only a scratch," he said weakly. She laughed without humor. "Do you know how many times I've heard that line used?" she said. "Anyway, you were trying to fight off a British soldier, he kicked you in the...between the legs, then before you could get back up, he shot you in the arm. You passed out from the pain, and when you fell, you must have hit your head on a log or something because you were unconscious for a day. It was your friend Jacob, I think? who got you here. Had it not been for him, that man would have finished you off faster than you used to finish off Christmas dinner." Ben frowned. "Jacob?" he asked. "Jacob saved my life?"
"For now," she said. He shook his head. He must be dreaming. Jacob, weak, scrawny little Jacob saved his life. At least so said Diana. And what was she doing here? He must be dreaming if Diana was right beside him. "Your head is fine," she added. "I don't know about-um-other vital parts, but it's your arm they are most concerned about."
"Will-will it have to be amputated?" he asked nervously. Diana's face was grim. "Most likely," she replied. "There's a small chance the doctor can get it healed because he got the bullet out pretty quickly, but the wound is deep and most likely already infected." Ben felt his heart drop to his stomach. He just closed his eyes. "The next few days will be critical," she added. "And with the conditions what they are, the odds aren't exactly in your favor." He said nothing. Then the man next to him cried, "Water!"
"It's coming, sir," said Diana. To Ben, she said, "You just rest. The doctor should get around to you tomorrow morning." Then she added, "I'm very sorry, Ben. I hate to see something like this happen to you." He just shook his head sadly. Then, changing the subject, he asked, "How did you get to be a nurse anyway? I thought they didn't take women."
"When my husband was killed in action," she said. "I didn't want to sit around and do nothing for my country. So I volunteered. They were pretty desperate, which is why they took me."
"There are other ways to help with the war effort," he pointed out. "Less dangerous ways."
"I want to physically help people," she said. "Not just sew a bunch of shirts."
"So instead," he said. "You get to change disgusting, bloody bandages, feed dying men, and wash them."
"Yes, I suppose that sums it up," she agreed. "Diana!" he said. "You have to actually see all of these men without clothes on?! You're a lady!" She shrugged. "They need help," she said simply. "And you get used to it." When he just gaped at her, she laughed and said, "I didn't say I enjoy it, Ben. And don't forget, you're one of those men now as well."
"Then I intend to get out of here as fast as I can," he said. Then he added, "I'm sorry about your husband. I didn't know you married."
"One of Father's friends," she said. "Two years after we moved to Maryland. He died last year."
"I'm sorry," he said again.
"Thank you," she said with a smile. "But now, I feel as though I can just start all over."

Over the next few hours, Ben slipped in and out of consciousness. Though there were many other soldiers to tend to, Diana gave him the most attention. The next morning, the surgeon got around to him. He looked at Ben's arm and frowned. "What is it?" asked Diana (Ben only half heard this because he was still half asleep). "I might," said the doctor slowly, looking at his arm again. "I might be able to save his arm." Ben felt Diana's soft hand on his forehead. "How?" she asked.
"It's risky," said the doctor. "But I could try to burn out the wound so the healthy tissue can heal." This woke Ben up. "What?" he asked sleepily. "There are no guarantees," the doctor went on. "If it doesn't work, or the littlest thing goes wrong, you'll end up losing the arm completely. It's all I can do if you want to try to keep it, though."
"Tis better than amputation," Diana offered. "It could lead to that, but if it doesn't..."
"I know," said Ben, though he really wasn't crazy about the idea. The surgeon turned to Diana. "You give everyone their breakfast,"he said. "I'll tend to him."
"Yes sir," she agreed. She took Ben's good hand. "Everything will be fine," she assured him. "I'll be back when it's over."

The pain of the operation was what Ben expected times ten thousand. As the hot metal touched his arm, he tried his absolute hardest not to scream, but a cry or two escaped his lips a few times. "Are you all right?" the doctor would ask every now and then, and Ben would nod weakly. Too soon, however, the pain got to be too much for him, and he fainted for a few minutes. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the doctor bandaged it up. "There," he said. "It will be sore for a while, and it may never be the same, but it will heal. Now our main concern is getting that fever down."
"Fever?" Ben thought. "Just perfect." He then fell into a deep, deep sleep.

When he awoke, the only light was coming from a few lanterns. He had a throbbing headache, and his arm hurt like crazy. Diana was tending to the man next to him, then she saw that he was awake. "Just a minute," she said. She gave the man some more water, then sat next to Ben. "How did it go?" she asked. He closed his eyes again. "I've never been in so much pain," he said. "And it still hurts, but at least it's still here." She felt his forehead. "Your fever is what worries me," she said. "It could be the death of you. But when the fighting moves away from here, they will send you home. You'll be better off there."
"Home home?" he asked. "Or Williamsburg?"
"Here," she said. "Less travel, and I think it would be better for now if you were with your parents." Both were quiet. Then Ben asked, "How did I get a fever on top of all this?"
"It happens all the time when you're shot," she said. "Your body gets so weak that it's extremely vulnerable to any diseases floating around, and especially here, that's not uncommon. Add that on to a post-operative fever, and you've got a recipe for disaster."
"So what you're saying," he clarified. "Is that I'm dying."
"To be blunt, yes," she said. "You may live, and you will have a much better chance at home, but right now, like I said before, the odds aren't exactly in your favor." He sighed and lay back. They were silent again. Then Diana asked, "Do you know what today is?" Ben racked his brain, but he hadn't a clue. "No," he admitted. She smiled a little. "It's the fifteenth," she said. "You're twenty-two now." He smiled wearily. "Only twenty-two?" he asked. "I feel sixty."
"This will probably be the worst birthday you will ever have," she remarked. He just nodded. "If everything goes well," she went on. "You should be able to go home in a few days, depending on how much longer this battle lasts."
"It's been going on for a few days now," he said. "I don't imagine it will last too much longer." Diana touched his face gingerly. "In the meantime," she said. "You just rest. You need your strength."

Ben felt terrible the next day, but the day after that, he felt slightly better. That evening, John, Daniel, and Jacob saw him. "Well, Davidson," said John. "If one of us had to be shot, my money would have been on Jacob."
"Hey!" Jacob protested. Ben smiled. "He's gotten much better in the last few years," he said. "Really, it was my own fault. I wasn't paying attention." He waited for John to make some remark regarding their conversation a few nights earlier, but he said nothing. "That's fairly easy to believe," teased Diana, who was helping to feed the man to his left. "You always were clueless as a teenager."
"And you were hoity-toity," he shot back with a grin. She shrugged. "You liked me anyway," she said, making the other snicker. Ben just rolled his eyes. Then he asked, "Any luck out there?" They all shook their heads. "Sometimes I think this war will never end," said John. "I think even General Washington is getting discouraged. Maybe it would be better if we just surrendered."
"I don't know," said Jacob. "We may have a chance. I mean, they are pretty much surrounded."
"They'll figure a way out of it somehow," muttered Daniel.
"I'm more than ready to go home," said John. "I miss Grace more than I can say."
"You're lucky, Ben," said Daniel. "You get to go home soon."
"Only after the fighting moves," Ben said. "Right now, it's too risky."
"You could go to Williamsburg," suggested Jacob. Ben shook his head. "Travel isn't a good idea," he said. "Besides, it would be better if I were with my parents when I die."
"Ben," said Daniel softly, but he just shook his head again. "It's all right," he said. No one spoke. Then Diana said, "All right, boys, out. He needs to rest, and so do all of you, for that matter." They all said good night and filed out. Daniel was the last one. He looked at Diana, then Ben, then did a quirky thing with his eyebrows that said, "She's a keeper." Ben grinned, and Daniel left. He turned to Diana. "I think Daniel likes you," he said as she started to change the bandages on his arm. She smiled a little. "Well, he won't get very far with that beard of his," she said. "I find it revolting."
"He thinks it looks distinguished."
"He looks like a ruffian."
Ben grinned. "So you would find me revolting if I had facial hair?" he asked. She looked up. "What do you mean 'if'?" she teased. He frowned, and his hand flew to his cheek. "Relax," she said. "Tis only a shadow. And I don't know. You're different."
"How?" he asked.
"I-I don't know," she said. "You're just...you." Her fingers brushed the wound on his arm. He winced. "Did that hurt?" she asked. "Would I have winced if it didn't?" he retorted. She just smiled and put some water on it, then wrapped it back up. Then she brought water to his parched lips. "Drink," she ordered. "You need it." He obeyed, and she felt his forehead. She frowned and said, "I hate to see you like this. It scares me."
"You're not the one dying," he pointed out. She laid her hand on his hot cheek, and his heart started to flutter. "Oh no," he thought, recognizing that feeling. "No no no, not with her!"
"Don't talk like that," she said softly. "You're not going to die. You're going to die many, many years from now, and old, old man, not here. You'll get well, you'll go home, you'll get married, and you'll make lots of babies, who will make their own babies, and you'll tell them about 'back in the army' days."
"But-but you said-," he stammered. She shook her head. "I know what I said," she said. "And now I know that as sick as you may be, you're not going to die here. If you did, I don't think I'd be able to live with myself."
"Di," he started to say, but she cut him off by saying, "You were my first real love, Ben, and I do care about you. That's why I want to get you well, and I would hate myself forever if something happened to you." He was silent. She cared about him? Even this way? He didn't know what to say. "It's not your fault," he finally said quietly. "Tis my own."
"Oh Ben," she whispered and laid her head on his. He closed his eyes as his hands grew sweaty and his heart pounded faster and faster. This was even worse than when Clara kissed him. "It could have happened to anybody."
"It's not just that," he said. "I-I scoffed at God, saying that I could make sure of my own fate and that I could look out for myself without Him, and now I'm getting my punishment." Diana was silent, then said, "You could look at it that way. Or you could look at this as mercy and forgiveness."
"How?" he asked.
"You could have lost that arm," she pointed out. "But you didn't. You could have been killed instantly in battle. But you weren't. You could be lying here with a much worse fever, moments from death. But you're not. You're getting better, and soon you will be able to go home. That, I think, is a Godsend. 'A pack of blessings lie upon thy back'." Ben said nothing again. She sat up. "You should rest," she said. "You need it."
"You look as though you do too," he said. She shook her head. "I'm fine," she assured him. He frowned. "You've got dark circles under your eyes, Diana," he said. "When was the last time you got any sleep?"
"Two nights ago," she answered. "Ever since I've been looking after you."
"Di!" he exclaimed. "You've got to rest! You'll make yourself sick if you don't!" A part of him, a sneaky part, wanted to scoot over and give her room in the bed, but he knew how wrong, how oh so very wrong that was. They weren't married, and besides, there were other people around! "Promise me you'll get some sleep tonight?"
"I promise," she agreed with a smile. "But only for you."

Ben's health improved a little over the course of two days. The date was October nineteenth, 1781. This day, he remembered from Felicity's letter, was the day that Elizabeth and Caleb were to be married. He honestly wished nothing but the best for them. The day was sunny and warm for the month. Somehow, Diana convinced him to stand up and try to walk. He was a little shaky when he stood, and he felt dizzy, but that was because he had been bedridden for days now. He had to lean on Diana for a bit, but soon he was able to walk on his own. When he lay back down, she said, "You're still a little sick, but you're well enough to go home when the time comes."
"Thank God," he sighed with relief. "I'm more than ready to get out of here." Diana stroked his tangled hair. "I admire your bravery," she said. "Four years of fighting and disease and death. And I'm sure that being shot in the arm was no picnic either."
"Because of that," he said softly, taking her hand and bringing it to his cheek. "I saw you again. That was a Godsend." He thought he saw her blush, but if she did, it faded quickly. "I want to thank you," he added. "For everything." She now smiled. "You're more than welcome," she said. "I'd do anything for you." She squeezed his hand, and his heart leapt. "I wish nothing but the best for you, wherever life takes you."
"I wish it would be with you," he first thought, then shook it out of his head. What was he thinking? Why was he thinking these things? Why did his heart start pounding like crazy whenever she touched him? Why did his palms sweat? Why was this even worse than just being attracted to a person? And why had he never felt this strongly about anyone? Was he-no, no, he couldn't be-could he? He closed his eyes. He certainly hoped not. They sat a while, not saying anything, and not letting go of each other's hand. Hers was cold but soft. He opened his eyes, and hers met his. There was a tenderness in them, a kind gentleness. "I'm right here," they said. "I won't leave you." His fingers locked with hers and grazed them gently. Her fingers tightened around his. It felt good to have her hold his hand, as if a reassurance that everything would be all right and that she would always be here. Suddenly, Daniel popped in, a grin on his face. "They retreated!" He announced. Diana dropped Ben's hand, and he sat up. "They did?" he asked. "Yorktown is safe?" Daniel nodded, and Ben sighed happily. "Thank goodness." Diana smiled at him. "You can go home now," she said. Then Daniel poked his head back out. "Wait, what?" he asked to whoever was shouting at him. "What?! Be serious, man! They did?! Oh God! Wait, are you sure? Let me see!" He rushed back outside, and shouts of joy were heard, more than if they had just won a battle. This seemed more important. Ben and Diana glanced at each other.
"Diana?"
"Ben?"
Daniel rushed back in and to his bedside, a huge smile lighting up his face. "Ben!" he gasped. "Diana! I stand corrected! They didn't retreat!"
"Then why are you so happy?" asked Ben, his heart pounding (this time, not because of Diana). Daniel's smile now spread across his whole face. "They surrendered!" he exclaimed, grabbing Ben's hand. "They really and truly surrendered! Do you know what this means? It's over! We've won!" Ben's eyes bugged. For a second, he didn't believe him. "Daniel," he said shakily. "If you're lying..."
"Why would I be lying?" Daniel laughed. "I'm dead serious! I swear to you on the Holy Bible, Cornwallis just surrendered!"
The man next to Ben grabbed his arm. "Are you sure, boy?" he asked in a gravelly voice. "As sure as there's hair on my head," Daniel replied. "And birds in the sky and God in Heaven. I saw it with my own two eyes! He surrendered!" Ben felt happier than he had ever felt in ages. "Diana!" he cried, throwing his arms around her. "We did it! We won!" "I know!" she laughed, hugging him tightly. "Oh Benjamin!" The whole hospital was in an uproar. Cries of joy replaced those of pain. "We've beaten them!" rang through the air. Ben noticed the tears in Diana's eyes. "Don't cry," he said. "Di, we're free!"
"I know it!" she laughed. "These are happy tears. Oh Ben, I couldn't be more proud!"
"You have to see it!" urged Daniel. "Come on!" Ben bolted out of bed, ignoring the dizziness as he stood up. "Wait!" said Diana. She combed his hair as best she could and tied it back. She straightened his clothes and set his hat on his head. "There," she said. "Just pretend you're not sick."
"Thank you," he said, turning to leave. "Wait!" she called again. She cupped his face in her hands and lightly kissed him on the lips. "Now make me proud." He smiled wider than he had for a long time and nodded, a little dazed. "All right, come on, Romeo," teased Daniel. "Let's go!"

If they had been dogs, the British would have had their tails between their legs as they glumly marched between the two lines of Patriot soldiers. Everyone was supposed to be solemn, and Ben had to bite his jaw to keep from smiling. It was over. It was all over. They were an independent country now. And he had helped. He watched the British soldiers lay down their weapons in surrender. He watched his fellow soldiers try to keep a straight face, but he was pretty sure he saw Jacob trying not to cry. Then he saw General Washington himself, sitting tall and proud on his horse. "I've admired that man since the beginning," he thought. "How about that," whispered Daniel. "We never have to deal with them again!" Ben cracked a smile and shifted his gun on his shoulder. He would never have to shoot it again.

That night, everyone celebrated. A couple of men found an old barn and decided to have a dance in celebration of the surrender. Somehow, they found some local women and musicians and brought them along. Ben's fever seemed to subside, for he was as lively as ever. Then again, maybe it was John's brandy. But Diana said he seemed well enough to leave the hospital, so he did and joined his friends in the barn. The night was chilly, and nobody slept. No one minded, though. "Somebody pinch me," said Jacob contently. "I think I'm dreaming."
"I'll wake you up," Daniel offered, leaning over to pinch him. "No!" Jacob cried. "No, no I was joking!"
"Good," said John. "Because you're not dreaming. We really did win!"
"Think Luke heard about it yet?" Daniel asked. "Probably not," Ben reasoned. "But when he does..."
"Rebecca had better watch out," finished Daniel, making everyone laugh. "He will be glad to know that his arm was not lost in vain," said Jacob.
"Matthew would have loved to see this," said Daniel quietly. "He would have been so proud."
"Oh, I have a feeling he is," said Ben with a smile. "He's probably looking down on us right now and laughing." They all glanced up. "We did it, Matthew," said John softly. Then he turned back to them. "Gentlemen," he said with dignity. "I propose a toast." He raised the bottle of brandy. "To Luke," he said. "For sacrificing his arm for his country. To Matthew, for sacrificing his life for his country. To the rest of the many, many soldiers who lost their limbs or lives. And to all of us for chasing those damn redcoats back to England!"
"Here here!" they chorused. Ben noticed Diana out of the corner of his eye. She was standing off to the side, taking in the scene. He went over to her, and she smiled when she saw him. "I don't think I've ever seen you so happy," she remarked. He smiled back. "I've never had such a good reason to be happy," he said. "You'll be able to go home tomorrow," she said. "That is, if it's still standing." He hadn't thought about that. Were his parents and William all right? Did the house burn down? Was his family...no, he wouldn't even think it. His worry must have registered on his face because Diana then added, "Oh, Ben, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you! I'm sure they are all fine."
"I hope so," he agreed. The music started to play again, a lively, upbeat tune. Changing the subject, on impulse he grinned and offered his hand. "Dance with me, Diana." She looked surprised. "What?" she asked.
"Dance with me," he repeated. She blushed a little. "Here?" she asked. "Now?"
"Can you think of a better time and place?" he asked by way of response. "Come on, Di, we just won a war. I think we should celebrate a little." She grinned back and accepted his hand. She put her other hand on his shoulder, still standing an awkward distance away. "You're going to have to get a little closer than that," he said, putting his other hand on her waist and drawing her closer until their bodies were nearly touching. The music started playing faster and livelier, and Diana looked up at him. "Ben, I can't!" she said. "I don't know any of the steps!"
"You think I do?" he responded. "Just wing it!" She took a deep breath and nodded, and the next thing either one of them knew, they were whirling and twirling around the barn alongside the other couples. They went faster and faster, her clinging on to him for dear life. He linked his arm with hers and twirled her around, then he grabbed her hands and spun her around. "Ben!" she giggled, her face red. "Ben! Stop!"
"Can't!" he said, his own face red. "Just go with it!" She closed her eyes, still laughing. They went faster and faster until both were dizzy, but neither cared. He pulled her closer to him again, and she held on even tighter. As the music went even faster, the two romped back and forth and left and right, spinning and spinning and spinning without a care in the world. By the time the music ended, the young couple was red in the face, out of breath, and laughing. "Ohhh, Benjamin," Diana sighed contently. "That was the most fun I've had since I was sixteen."
"I told you," he said, his cheeks hurting from smiling so much. "Wasn't that much more fun than some stuffy minuet?"
"By far," she agreed. Her eyes met his, and that same impulse that he had had back when they were sixteen and alone in the store came over him again. Shyly, he dipped his head to the right and pressed his lips to hers. Her hand went along his jaw, sending a tingling sensation throughout him as she returned his kiss. "Bad idea," whispered his conscience. "Bad, bad, bad! Don't do it! Quit now before you regret it!" He ignored it. He had never wanted to, he hadn't intended to, but that night, as he kissed her, he realized that yes, he loved Diana. Matthew had been right; it was the nicest feeling in the world.

Late afternoon the next day, Ben finally went home for good. He didn't feel well at all that day, but he tried to push that aside in spite of the fact that he had a throbbing headache and felt sick to his stomach. His goodbye was bittersweet, as goodbyes typically are. As it turned out, Jacob lived in a small town outside of Yorktown, so he was leaving now too. John said farewell like a man: a handshake and "goodbye". To Ben, he added, "You're a good man, Davidson. Don't forget that." To Jacob, "Stay strong, lad." Daniel's was more heartfelt. "I'll miss you," he said as he hugged them goodbye (Ben thought only women hugged, but oh well). "Me too," he agreed. "We were quite a pair."
"Promise you won't forget me?" Daniel asked. "I couldn't if I tried," said Ben, feeling a sense of déjà vu. "And say hello to Clara for me, will you?"
"Certainly," Daniel promised. "Write to me?"
"Absolutely."
Soon the inevitable moment came. Diana offered to walk home with them (it was in walking distance). She knew Ben didn't feel well and didn't want him to collapse in the middle of the street or anything, so she went along. Ben and Jacob said a final goodbye to everyone and left. Ben took a final look at the camp where he was shot, almost died, reunited with Diana, won a war, and fell in love. All of these he had thought would never happen, and all of them did in the course of about a week. The war had been an exciting chapter in his life, but now it was time to close it and start a new one.