Thanks for all the reviews and messages. I know that I am not the most consistent writer so I really appreciate people being patient with me. The more I get reviews and messages and stuff like that, the more I remember to keep going. That being said thanks also to everyone who are simply reading and enjoying the story, even if you never message or any of that stuff. As always, all reviews are read and appreciated! The good, the bad and the ugly, I just want to know what you think. If you don't like something, let me know. Maybe it will change who knows!
Most of the characters that follow belong to Liberty's Kids the animated TV show, not me.
James stared up at the hay loft filled with piles and piles of hay. Looking around the barn desperately he decided that, in fact there was nothing left for him to do. He had brought in Caesar and put the horse back in his stall; only to see that the horse was covered in ash and dirty from the outing. James than decided that that would never do and he needed a good brushing. After that it was obvious that the horse need some new hay in his stall. Then of course in going up to the hay loft to get some, James discovered that it was a mess and promptly tidied it up.
Sighing to himself, a small piece of James had to admit that everything he was doing in the barn was really unnecessary and simply his attempts at avoiding Isabelle. Henri was going to brush Caesar that afternoon anyways, and clean out the stall completely, which would include putting in new hay. And really he had never thought to tidy up the loft before in his whole life.
Looking around he finally gave up and started the walk inside to the kitchen. It wasn't that he was scared of Isabelle really, just nervous. The whole ride to the shop she looked ready to cry or throw up or scream, he was never sure. Either way, he was not good at dealing with hysterical people, especially hysterical women. Sarah was about as much as he could handle in that department. And really, by now Sarah would have calmed her down, that's what Sarah was good at after all.
So after a deep breath James pushed open the barn doors and began to stride towards the house; bracing himself for a possibly sobbing woman in the kitchen. Though when he got to the door he listened and heard nothing, and so bravely pushed the wood open and stepped in.
Sarah was alone at the table when he walked in. She had told herself after the incident with Isabelle that she should move on and get working on some cooking. While she sat there preparing beans Sarah tried to remain calm, however her insides were a buzz of feelings and questions. What had gone so horribly wrong? Was it something Sarah had done? So deep in thought, she almost didn't notice James coming in the door. When she looked up he was looking relieved with a smile on his face. She pretended to smile back.
"Oh thank goodness its only you." James said to her. Sarah opened her mouth to inform him that that was a rather rude thing to say upon stepping into someone's kitchen, but he beat her to it. "Don't lecture me Sarah, you know that's not what I meant. I just was so nervous about Isabelle being here, and...cry and stuff." He kind off drifted off at the end of the sentence and looked a little embarrassed about his fear. Sarah's heart dropped at the mention of Isabelle, though she tried not to let it show.
"How did things go down here anyways?" James asked attempting to restart the conversation. Sarah opened her mouth ready to launch into the whole story of how she had been kind and Isabelle ignored her, and then how she had yelled at Sarah by her room; but something stopped her. "Nothing happened down here." She found herself saying instead. "She's up in my room putting on a new dress. Though if you want to talk with her, she should be done by now."
James grinned ear to ear, his mind finally at ease that he would not deal with a crying woman today.
"Great! I think Im going to do that. Feel around and see if she would be interested in doing an interview" With that James strutted out of the kitchen, leaving Sarah to her own thoughts. She contemplated yelling after James that she doubted Isabelle would be interested. But she decided not to, figuring that if she had to get Isabelle's furry, then James could take it too. She internally laughed at the thought and listened, waiting to hear the sound of James saying something stupid and Isabelle yelling at him.
After leaving the kitchen James bounded up the stairs to Sarah's room, a new sense of excitement filling him, as it always did on the brink of a new story. When he got to the door James lifted his hand up to knock, and then slowly a feeling swirled up his stomach and he put the hand down. Suddenly he was getting nervous. What if he put his foot in his mouth again and ruined it all? He would just have to be highly aware of what he was saying to her. He would pretend that Sarah was there with him kicking him whenever he did something wrong. That wouldnt be too hard to imagine. Summing up courage again he lifted his hand, only to once more put it down.
A horrid thought had come to him. What if Sarah was wrong and Isabelle really was still getting dressed. He felt confident that if that happened it would not matter what he said, she would kill him. And even if she didn't Sarah would. And even if Sarah didn't, interrupting a lady while she was still dressing was something that James did not think he could mentally recover from. And yes, Sarah believed that she would be ready, but these were Sarah's dresses. She wore them all the time. Who's to say that someone else, even another woman, would be able to figure them all out. James had looked at a woman's dress on a hanger once a few years ago in a store, his curiosity got the better of him. It was the only time he really looked at the whole thing, all the layers and fasteners and stuff he couldn't even name and he could not understand it. The whole garment- or garments he should say- were more complex than any mechanical device he had ever seen. James could not figure out how any woman ever got dressed in the morning, let alone in a stranger's room and stranger's dress after such a morning as Isabelle had had. All the buttons, and hooks and layer upon layers of fabric... James quickly realized he was standing in the hallway, thinking very hard about how women's dresses worked. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind and before he could think of anything else, he knocked on the door.
Isabelle promptly opened the door, her face at first looking rather hard but quickly softening at the sight of James. He couldn't help but notice that the green dress Isabelle was wearing was one that he never remembered seeing on Sarah. But then again, he wasn't sure he would recognize any of her dresses. Though Isabelle was smaller than Sarah, it fit pretty well and with her face washed of shoot, James noticed that she had a beautiful and fair completion, and her hair was quite long and a silky black color.
"What can I do for you Mr. Hiller?" She asked, still with that large smile on her face. That smile made all of James' worries melt away and he decided to just go right out and ask her for the interview without fear.
"Well, I had just been wondering if you would be willing to talk with me for a little bit about what has been happening at your father's shop and what happened this morning? A kind of interview that I could use for my article about it in the newspaper." James said. The smile remained on her face so he continued. "I mean it would be really great for other patriots to know about a local hero like your father, and people should be informed about the fact that he and he supplies have been taken away. We could gain some support, maybe find another place to store any stuff that was saved?" James realized that he had never given her a chance to respond and waited a few seconds for her answer. After some silence James worried that he had in fact offended her and added in "If you dont want to, I completely understand and its really fine. I should actually just go now and leave you alone"
James made to turn around and go back down stairs when Isabelle finally answered. "I would really be happy to talk with you about it." He turned around with a smile. "Anything to help out the patriot cause" She said, smiling again.
"Well that's fantastic!" James practically yelled, smiling to himself and mentally patting himself on the back for getting the interview. "Here we can across the hall and talk in the study. There are a bunch of chairs and such so you should be comfortable, and that way we wont be bothered if people come to call." James said leading her into the study across the way and onto one of the chairs. He pulled a chair for himself across from her and grabbed a pen and paper to jot notes on.
"Why dont you start at the beginning?" James said. "Oh and just so you're clear, I will not print anything that will give away information to the British. So even if you tell me specifics I will check with the local militia captain and find out what is okay to print. No worries there." She smiled at him and nodded.
"Well, my Papa owns this store. General things in it, sugar, flour, gun powder, stamps, all those kinda of things." James nodded showing that he understood. "Over the years when the British taxes were going up Papa had a horrible time. So often his loyal customers and friends could not afford to buy the things that they needed. He saw first hand the prices go up and how it affect people. From the time I was a child I remember him talking about the crown and how it was ruining the colonies. 'Sucking us dry and then forgetting about us' is what he always said. When the war started Papa wanted to go and fight but he was too worried about leaving me alone, so he didn't. Though I think he always felt really bad about it." Isabelle stopped here and looked a little embarrassed. She seemed so sad at the idea that her father didnt fight because of her.
"You shouldn't worry about it. Your father has done a lot for the cause." James said in what he hoped was a comforting way, laying a hand on her shoulder. It seemed to work because Isabelle turned back to him and smiled before continuing on.
"Well when about a year ago the blacksmith from next door to us asked Papa if he would be the keeper of the local patriot supplies; he jumped at the chance. He kept clothes, iron, gunpowder, a few guns and some food locked up in the back and he left them off the inventory list. He's been giving them to the blacksmith as needed ever since. Sometimes he's given things to replenish, from the blacksmith directly or from other local supporters. When things run low, he buys extra on his own orders and refills from his own pocket."
"So then what had happened this morning?" James asked as soon as he finished his notes.
"Well I was working early this morning. Tending to the counter and such, when Papa came in and told me that he would happily take over for me. I had not slept the night before very well and so I went up the stairs to go to sleep for a little bit. We live above the shop you see, Papa and I. Then.." She stopped here and started to look as though she was about to cry. James became nervous and stopped writing. Surprisingly though she did not cry, but instead looked at him with a very serious face.
"Have you ever been in a fire Mr. Hiller?" Her stare was so penetrating after that that James couldn't think for a minute, before finally clearing his throat and answering.
"Well in fact yes, however I was only a baby so I dont actually remember any of it." Her face softened.
"I suppose we have something in common then." She said. "Though I will tell you that waking up to a fire is the worst feeling I have ever experienced. There is smoke everywhere and you can't breathe, cant think. I woke up to screams and fell down the steps I could not see them at all my eyes stung so badly. I went down and saw a small fire at the front of the shop, and all I could think was 'how can that little thing make so much smoke?' but it did. I couldn't see and had to blindly make my way out to the back where I found half the neighbors pulling supplies out from the storage room."
She stopped there for a minute and the two of them sat in silence while James let the image sink in. How horrible it must have been to wake up that way. Then suddenly pain pulled at his chest as he realized that that had to have been the way that it felt for his parents when they died. Asleep soundly only to be woken up by screaming and scorching pain and blinding smoke. Suddenly James realized that Isabelle was speaking again.
"Im sorry could you start over I didn't catch that first part." He said as if in a day dream. She looked at him quizzically. "I was just saying that I haven't been able to speak to anyone yet so unfortunately I cant tell you how the fire actually started. Are you alright?" She asked reaching her hand over to lift his head up so she could see his face.
"Im yeah, I just...I guess your description of waking up in the fire just really got to me." He said. He was not sure why but for some reason he felt a compulsion to go on and tell her the rest. "The fire I was in as a baby, was caused by lightning striking my house. My parents both died in it." He had meant to say more, but somehow after that he had to stop.
Isabelle stood up and hugged him closely. "Well as horrible as it is, that's one more thing we have in common." She said with a small sad smile. The confusion was clearly readable on James' face as she quickly elaborated.
"My mother is also dead. She died during child birth. So I too never knew my mother, and now its possible that I wont have a father either." As she finished her sentence Isabelle began to sob. It was clear to James at that point that the interview was, for now, over. Without worrying or thinking to hard James gave her a close hug and started to comfort her to which she nestled into his shoulder and cried. Maybe he wasn't too bad with crying women after all.
-Thanks for reading-