Letters Home: Assassins

by: Shadow Chaser

Part 2

She had introduced herself as Sarah Livingston and he had vaguely remembered introducing himself as Reverend Benjamin Brewster, spinning a story about an ambush by brigands before exhaustion tugged at Ben and he passed out again. When Ben next awoke, it was to something that smelled wonderful and the rumble of his stomach told him that it was more than likely a couple of days since he had eaten. He could feel the press of a cross in his hand before everything came back to him – Sarah, his story as Reverend Brewster. He blinked open his eyes, feeling the rough scratch of exhaustion in them, and gingerly moved, wincing at the lancing pain across his stomach.

"Smells good," he murmured as he looked up to see Sarah pouring the winter's stew into a bowl before parceling out the helpings.

"Are you strong enough to eat?" she asked as she finished her task.

Ben gingerly nodded, still feeling dizzied and light-headed from the blood loss and tried to push himself further up, breathing out quietly at the movement. He closed his eyes for a second, centering himself before opening them and dragging the blankets off of himself just as Sarah came over and helped him up. Ben nearly staggered to the ground at the sudden weakness of his knees along with the fact that the room seem to spin at a terrible rate. It threatened to overwhelm him, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to put one foot forward until he all but collapsed into the table's chair.

"My apologies, Mrs. Livingston," he grimaced at the fact that she had nearly bore his full weight.

"Tis all right," she seemed unruffled by the fact that he had nearly manhandled her and he blinked, puzzled. She seemed uncommonly unconcerned for someone who was married.

"Are you sure your husband won't mind me borrowing his clothes?" he asked, the fabric on his skin feeling cleaner than he was used to. He hoped that these were not Mr. Livingston's best clothes.

"He won't," Sarah replied, her tone a little sharp and Ben blinked, wondering if he had said something wrong.

"I...I apologize if I had said something to offend you-"

"No," the woman looked at him as she put some of the winter's stew onto her own plate, "you have not."

Ben chewed his lower lip for a second before reaching out with his hand in an offer of prayer. He saw her look at his hand for a second before slowly reaching out with her own and he clasped it, mildly surprised at how firm and calloused her fingers were. He did not remember if she had cattle or even farm animals around her property, his mind too muddled from that night he had succumbed to his wound, but he knew what a woman's fingers felt like when they were covered in the callouses of churning butter or doing farm work. Her callouses felt like she had been holding a musket or even a knife instead.

Ben pushed the thought aside as he recited a simple prayer that he had heard his own father speak of so many times, adding in his own health and quick recovery before thanking Sarah for her food and finished the prayer with a quiet 'Amen.' She followed suit and Ben let her fingers go, drawing his hand back as he tentatively picked up a fork and started to eat.

The food tasted wonderful in Ben's mouth and it was only the fact that he was eating in front of a lady that he did not shove all of it down his throat at that very moment. He managed to take sips of the wine that Sarah had poured for him, quenching his parched throat, but also knew that he had to eat slowly even though his body was starving for food. He vaguely remembered Samuel getting injured when they had been children and the physician cautioning not to eat quickly while a body was in recovery.

"Thank you," he forced himself to stop eating to let his body accept the food and looked up to see a surprised expression on Sarah's face, "for returning the cross to me. It is...of sentimental value."

Sarah only nodded as she looked down at her plate. He could clearly see that she was warring with something and Ben had a feeling that she was hiding something. What it was, he did not know; but he did know that he was currently as weak as a newborn kitten.

"I...must say..." he began again, "I do not know where I am. When I escaped, I rode as far as I could before I fell off my horse-"

"Franklin," she quickly replied flicking a look at him before staring back down at her plate, "this is Frankling township."

"New Jersey..." he breathed out quietly before biting his lip as he considered his options. Franklin was still close to Fairfield where he had ambushed Worthington which meant that he was still in danger. There was no doubt that Gamble was looking for him and every second he was here put Sarah and himself in danger. He licked his lips and forced himself to take another bite, considering his options. He needed bedrest, maybe a day or two, but he also did not know how fast and how wide Gamble was searching for him. He supposed he was lucky that it was raining and some of his horse's tracks were washed away.

Ben opened his mouth again, but before he could even speak a single word, Sarah set her fork down and cleared her throat. He closed his mouth as he looked at her. She was staring down at her plate, her food almost untouched since he had thanked her.

"I...have to confess, Reverend," she murmured, "my husband will not mind your presence because he is not here-"

"What?"

"He..." she closed her eyes and breathed out quietly before opening them again. Ben was taken aback at the sheer amount of pain in them. "He was killed by brigands, raiders, soldiers who wanted our corn and crops one year ago during the winter. He refused to give it to them, wanting some form of payment and also enough for us to survive. They...they killed him...and took our crops..."

"I'm...sorry," Ben grimaced, noting the tears forming in the corner of her eyes. He had been informed by Billy Lee during one of their occasional training sessions that Washington had noticed a lot of the supplies had gone missing and had enlisted Connor's help in retrieving them. Connor had discovered that it was one of the Templars, Benjamin Church who had stolen the winter supplies. He surmised that Sarah and her husband's supplies must have been one of those seized by Church.

"When I found you outside in the rain a day ago, I thought..." she looked away, a little uncomfortable, "well...my husband died one year ago to this very date and I thought...you were sent by God for me to atone for being unable to keep him alive. He...he died in my arms, shot much like you had been. That's why...there was a second plate out..."

Ben stopped eating and put his fork down as he swallowed past the small lump of sympathy in his throat. She looked so small, and so alone. "Sarah," he hesitated on his words for a second before forcing himself to continue as she looked up at him, her eyes bright with tears, "I will pray for him tonight and for your kindness in saving my life."

She could only nod before picking up her fork again and pushed her food around. Ben stared at her for a little bit, studying her. She was pretty and as much as he suddenly wanted the touch of a woman, his instincts screamed caution; not to mention the still throbbing pain of his gut shot warning him that it was only recently stitched. He could feel a blooming wetness on the cloth covering his wound and knew that they would have to be changed soon. There was also the fact to consider as his cover. His father was a Reverend, and was certainly not celibate considering he and Samuel existed, but he also knew that men of the cloth had higher standards to live up to and perceived needs and wants, especially those of the flesh, were thought of differently for clergymen.

His cover was that of a traveling Reverend and he did not know much about Sarah Livingston at the moment to abandon his cover. There was also the fact that she had practically admitted to a lie, which made him less inclined to trust her at the moment. Considering he was still in Franklin, it meant that Gamble was more than likely looking for him and he needed his strength and health – which meant making sure that Sarah did not betray him nor did he betray his own cover.

Ben picked up his fork again and resumed eating, though he kept a careful eye on the newly discovered widowed Mrs. Livingston.