Hello All! Long time no see. My excuse is school and a lot of College Prepping. I want to thank Booklover450 for sticking with me all this time. She is truly devoted and amazing! Previously before leaving you guys for 6 months I changed the dates around. Big mistake on my part. I don't know what I was thinking! A thank you to those who pointed it out to me and it will be fixed soon.
Time was racing against me I knew what I needed to convince Felicity of our past. I ran up to the loft where I found her writing supplies earlier. She needed proof, her proof. I attacked the hay bales the best I could with my one arm. My eyes- although trained to look for red- searched for anything that resembled paper, a journal, anything. It took some time as I searched the pile of bales stacked to my left. Nothing. I turned to my right. Another pile of hay bales laid neatly on top of each other. This time I took a few steps backwards and scanned the pile. Something caught my eye. It was white and crumpled.
As I approached it looked like fabric that was dried while it was wet. My good hand grabbed it and I used my other hand to uncrumple it a bit. It was a shawl. Nan's? I wondered. No, Felicity's! I dropped the shawl and started looking around the section where I found the shawl. There was nothing although the hay bales made a little cubby large enough for her to slip into. She was nearly my height and so I slipped into the spot. Nothing. I slipped my hand into a hay bale to pull me up and that's when I felt it. It was wooden. I pulled on it. Out came a wooden journal. I smiled. I hardly cared that the spot I was in was cramped, I sat down and started to open it. I hesitated. It was Felicity's. Shutting my eyes I saw Elisabeth's like-that's-going-to-happen look when I asked her if I should turn it in to her. My mind was made and I flipped to the first page.
Dear Journal,
Dear mother bought me you so I can record my personal thoughts and daily activities around three years ago. Ms. Mannerly says, "Tis good for one to reflect over your actions in written form so one day you can look back upon them." Of course I agree but, I haven't had anything of importance I felt I should write about- until now.
I paused and thought to myself, War has been in full swing for a year now. I continued reading.
Dearest Benjamin, Tis so late at night- so late the owl sings- yet I must push the sleep from my eyes and write. You must be laying on the cold ground looking up into a endless sea of stars painted on a clear black sky. Tis your first night at camp and I pray it is a reasonable one. I miss you already! Not a lot has happened since you finally got to set out and joined the militia. The only changes are the quieter suppers and the business at the store. Good old Marcus says he was 'spoiled' with your help. I get to help behind the counter at the Mercantile and Father says I have attracted more male visitors to the store than before.
We have only lost one frequent and valuable customer to our store and yes, that is Annabelle Cole. I daresay I haven't seen her much anymore. Do not fret about the increase in male customers, I have not noticed. Besides, it is good for business. I still think upon our parting words and smile. There was a blot of ink there as if she had stopped to recall the scene. Marcus still sleeps at the shop and I have taken over your bed to sit, ponder, and sleep occasionally. I miss you and will keep you in my prayers.
Love, Felicity
I paused and fingered the tops of the pages. I noticed that some pages were marked by tears and other soft from frequent rereading of the pages. I flipped a few pages further and read.
Oh! How silly of me to think I have nothing to write! All of the fond memories of when I was young before the war started and all the adventures during the war! I sit here determined to record some of them. Elisabeth and I were talking and laughing over tea. I had mentioned the time we were at Ms. Manderly's tea lesson and my loose tooth chose to come out right then and there! Oh, neither Elizabeth or I can ever remember another time Ms. Manderly ever so shocked and at a loss for words. I still can see Annabelle looking quite shocked yet amused. But I still can look back on these memories with a smile. Tia ever so many memories I can think of. Many link to dear. dear Grandfather. If I close my eyes I can still feel the grass between my toes as I ran through his fields when I was young. How I would always put my pink bonnet on the farthest fence picket from the house before exploring the back pastures for a horse. Or playing Indians with myself in his woods. I never got to try playing Indians with Fan. I did try to take her on walks in the woods but, that soon fell through. I don't believe she stepped a foot onto his woods since she was five years old. Upon accidentally squirting her with blueberry juice and staining her apron she would have none of it. I miss mornings at Grandfather's plantation the most. Truth be told, ever since he passed and the war kicked into full swing we never had a chance to visit. I do miss the mornings though. Everything was peaceful and quiet. The morning air was clean as it was crisp and I would always scramble out of bed and follow the sound of birds to the bird bottle, Grandfather purchased with us in mind. I do remember when I did not see the regular chickadee or robin flutter away as I approached.
It was the day when a price of cloth was wrapped in there. I had almost overlooked it but, the white scrap caught in the wind. Upon pulling it out there had been Ben's signal whistle in it. The cloth had stains of berry juice and it took me a good minute to figure out they were words. My, did Ben give me a scare. I still wonder at his passion for the army at times but, now I can say I am proud he is serving his country as a soldier. But, back to the story. Ben had run away from Father to join the army, however; he was injured. My heart still stinks and yet gushes with relief as I recall this. It is actually strange how my heart still responds with the same feeling a few years late. I was ever so relieved to see him but, rather furious that he would run away and be hurt in such away. Yes, he was injured. It was his leg that had a bloody gash from the knee down to his ankle. I admit I felt like gagging for a second as I washed his wound before bandaging it with a part of his shirt. I had helped him to Grandfather's stable since bounty hunters were on his trail. I speak my mind and did let him know I was anything but pleased that he went behind my Father's back. But, ah! Apart of me tore inside of me as we said our good byes. He was determined to press on and catch up to Washington's troops "at first light tomorrow."
Oh! How hard it was to sit and do needlepoint that night while thinking about Ben. To make me feel worse my Father and Grandfather sat only five feet away discussing the "runaway apprentice." What kept my tongue silent was the fact he had never uttered a single word about my Penny secret and I was his friend and he was trusting me. I'm sure I would have resorted to gnawing me bottom lip or inner cheek to pieces next if Ben hadn't come in. My heart melted with relief as I saw him. I gave my most encouraging smile to him as Father turned and asked ,"Ben? Where have you been?" In the end, the truth came out and he returned to Williamsburg with the rest of us. And there he stayed until a year ago.
Perhaps that was one of the most eventful things that happened at Grandfather's. Other than that, the reuniting of me and Penny. Ah, Grandfather knew me well and now each and every time I see Penny I see his love for me. He had kept an eye out for Penny and had found her without me even asking! I still remember myself wearing my green riding habit Grandfather purchased for me and walking to the pastures. I remember seeing her cooper coat I could recognize anywhere and running to her in pure shock and joy. Oh! Grandfather's face was in the biggest smile I had ever seen and seemed to glow as I thanked him. Ah, tis sweet to dwell on such times when the world is at war. Penny is now at war with Father who is recruiting supplies. I know they are taking care of each other. Independence, Penny's foal, is growing fast but, not ready to join the war. Even though I try to spend as much time as possible with her, I end up only spending about an hour in the pasture with her after supper. I feed her throughout the day but, mostly I'm at the Governor's palace that is now a hospital. Since working there with Mother or delivering bandages and other supplies I have seen wounds that surpass Ben's leg injury.
I stopped reading and scanned my eyes over the rest of the page. I cringed at the images she painted with her words below. I was all too well acquainted with the suffering on the battlefield. The bullet wounds and missing arms and legs of various patients. What had touched her mostly was a soldier she had looked after the whole night before he passed. His bone in his left arm had been shattered by a bullet and he had a raging fever. While slipping in and out of delusion he had told her of his family back in the outskirts of Boston. I felt bad for Felicity, I wonder why she didn't write me this. I skimmed over the section again. Silly, she didn't want me to hear more about suffering probably. I continued to turn the pages. She wrote about the lack of food and the condition Williamsburg was in. The mercantile held up but, it sounded like the business wasn't stellar. In a few more pages there was three of her letters she wrote me. They were dated February 1777 and I had received these letters when I was in a camp just on the outskirts of Princeton. This was just after the battle of Princeton.
Dear Ben,
We are all praying for you. How are you? Where are you? News has reached us of Washington's attack at Princeton. I don't know if you where there exactly but if you were you know that Washington's bravery is tried and proven. The Tories call this attack more like a raid and to be honest, they could be right but, whatever the case is the spirits of the citizens are lifted. Several of the people we know have enlisted again after there enlistment ended last month. I was wondering if you were thinking of enlisting. I'm sure you are knowing your courageous and loyal spirit but, it is your choice. All I ask is that you tell me whenever you have time.
Speaking about enlistments, Father is not going to reenlist. He will still do his part for the world but, from his home. Marcus is ill with a fever and should regain his strength before returning to his job. So, Father will maintain the store when he gets home but, until then William and I are going to take over. You will be glad to know that almost everyone in Williamsburg is drinking tea now. While some drink out of need others are loyal to the cause. Nan is being a dear angel. She is dedicating most of her time to the women's sewing group and I accompany her on occasion. She prefers sewing shirts to knitting stockings. I believe all of the younger folk prefer the shirts over the stockings have no fear though because the women had the stockings under control. They only take a hour to knit a pair of socks. Mother spends most of her time at the hospital. There aren't any battles by us but, the soldiers are brought in to us.
I stopped reading when my fighter brushed a page that felt crisp. My eyes fell to the spot where the page was as delicate as a leaf and I turned there. I slowly read.
Dear Journal,
How many troubling times you have brought me through. You and Penny are the places I go when I need to spill what's in the deepest corners of my heart. Today more than ever I am worried about Ben's safety. I have written him at least five letters all of them he didn't respond. It has been three months! I'm worried sick. Mother, Father, and even Nan have noticed it. Nan says I'm working to much at the store and volunteering around the hospital. But, how can I not? I love the work it keeps my mind off of Ben. There is an exception, however; when I'm working with the wounded. Oh! I pray he isn't wounded or hurt in anyway. I couldn't bear to think him suffering! Could he be lying on a cot somewhere with a horrible wound? Raging with a fever? Is someone tending to his unconscious state? I don't know how or when the idea that he is gone passed in my mind but, now I'm praying day and night it isn't so. What if I lose him? What if he is
I stopped reading. I felt her pain in a sense I never felt before and my eyes strained to see what was written next. It looked like her hand rested on it so it was blurred but, what I could make out was the word, dead?
The next line was clearer and hardly smudged. She had written I love him.