Four days.
It had been four days since Wyatt had disappeared into the night, four days since Rufus had seen him silently slinking his way down the ridge behind Daniel Boone, flanked on both sides by war-painted Mohawks, four days since he swore that at the first sign of trouble he would take himself and Lucy and get the hell out of harm's way.
And now…now it seemed, he was going to have to make good on that promise.
It started just before dawn - the faint sound of muskets cracking somewhere off in the distance. It was quiet enough to go mostly unnoticed by the majority of the camp. For those, however, who had reason to worry, that barely there sound had roused them from an uneasy sleep and sent them cautiously making their way to the roughly hewn parapets.
"There," John Fraser noted with a battered hand, his breath coiling in ribbons before him, "there in the valley yonder."
Peering through the morning mist, Rufus could just barely make out the flash of the musket fire, flickering like tiny flames in the distance followed several seconds later by the explosive sound of gunfire. While not near enough to cause alarm, Rufus was still uneasy.
Every passing day had felt like an eternity. By now, he thought, Wyatt would surely have come back…even if Lucy had dreamed up the whole damn thing, he should have at least discovered the mistake and made his way to camp by now. Yet as he looked down into the valley, staring out at the barely visible puffs of smoke emanating from beneath the canopy of far-off trees, he wondered if maybe, just maybe, Wyatt Logan's luck had run out.
Though he couldn't see her, he could feel Lucy's eyes boring into the back of his head…and sure enough, as he glanced over her shoulder, there she was…leaning against the doorway of the old mill, wrapped in a blanket, her face puffy and red from crying.
Rufus turned his face back to the valley, not wanting her to see the look of concern on his face. Not that it would matter…Lucy was already concerned enough for the both of them.
It was the next morning after Wyatt had left when Lucy found out he had gone. She had been sick with fever all night, tired and worn out from the uncomfortable ride in the wagon on their long trek to the mill, and was barely able to sit up in bed when Rufus reluctantly told her what Wyatt had done.
"What do you mean, he's gone?" Lucy practically screeched at him as she pulled a cool rag off of her forehead. "Gone? Gone where?"
It was a horrifying moment of realization for him. He had always believed that out of his two companions, Wyatt was the more formidable, but seeing Lucy spring up out of her sick bed with the fury of a woman scorned made him realize how foolish he had been.
Lucy Preston was downright terrifying.
"Now don't be pointing your finger at me," Rufus protested as she did just that, practically cornering him next to Mrs. Poe's cot. "I didn't tell him to run off without saying a word…"
"But you did tell him he should go," Lucy spat out, "why…why would you do that?"
Rufus stared back at her like a fish out of water, unable to summon up the courage to answer her when John Fraser came to his assistance.
"Now lass," he soothed, "it wasn't his fault. Once your man got the idea in his head, there was no deterring him." Lucy shot a menacing glare at Rufus as John Fraser continued, "I wasn't too keen on him taking such a mighty risk, but my dear, if I were in his shoes I can't say that I wouldn't have done the same thing." He chuckled darkly to himself before admitting quietly, "By all rights, it should be me out there right now…and not your man."
At that, Lucy softened…her eyes automatically darting to the hunched figure of Mary Fraser, who was busily cooking breakfast over the hearth fire with Mrs. Poe. She showed no sign that she even suspected what was going on essentially behind her back…but, Lucy thought with a pang, she would know soon enough.
Real tears began to fall from Lucy's eyes as she considered everything John and Mary Fraser had suffered since they had come into their lives. His leg injured, his bandaged arm apparently broken…his farm burned - their presence in this century had completely upended this man's life. None of this was supposed to happen…and as Mary left her skillet to comfort Lucy in her distress, she remembered Jane…and her tears fell even harder.
"I'm sorry," she gasped, talking more to Mary than to John, "I'm so…I'm so sorry for everything."
"John," Mary admonished with a look as she wrapped Lucy up in Wyatt's coat, "what on Earth are you about this morning? Upsetting her when she's so poorly." Tutting at him, she embraced Lucy warmly before pulling her away and assuring her seriously, "You have nothing to apologize for…indeed, it's not any wonder you lied about who you really were. Look at what they've done to ye."
"To me?" Lucy gasped through her tears,still talking more to Mary than to John, "what about you? You…you've been so good to us and…you've lost everything."
"Now, now, lass," John urged with genuine warmth and concern, "it's nothing for you to be so upset about. Indeed," he said meaningfully, "quite indebted to you…" With a pained frown, he nodded at Lucy's incredulous gaze, "It'll be quite alright my dear, you'll see…"
Not understanding John's full meaning, Mary concurred, hugging Lucy close again, "Indeed, my dear…you'll see…your Wyatt will be back here before you know it. He's got Boone with him, hasn't he?" At Rufus' half-hearted nod, she urged Lucy again, "You see? Nothing at all to worry about. He's quite capable of taking on a few French stragglers."
Lucy swallowed hard, exchanging a quick glance with both Rufus and John. She hated that they had been less than honest with Mary about why Wyatt and Daniel Boone had so souddenly disappeared into the night, but there was no way in hell she was going to be the one to spill the beans. It wasn't her place. If John didn't feel it was necessary to prepare her for the possible return of his wife, what business of it was hers?
As Mary continued to hug her, Lucy nodded gratefully, "Yes, you're right. Wyatt…he'll be fine." Letting out a derisive laugh, that sounded a tad hysterical she added, "He always is."
Rufus was inclined to agree that Wyatt would be fine…but as day by day passed with no word, his confidence in the sure-fire thing that was Wyatt Logan's tenacity was quickly fading.
Something Lucy seemed to suspect
"You're worried aren't you?" she accosted him at dinner the second night. Her face was pale and drawn, making the circles under her eyes seem all that much darker, even in the warm glow of firelight.
Clearing his throat nervously, Rufus shrugged as he lied, "No…not worried at all. You know, Wyatt…he's…Wyatt." As Lucy offered him a disbelieving scoff, he amended, "Okay, well maybe I'm a little worried, but think about it, Lucy…how many times has he come through for us? Even when we thought…"
'I know, but Rufus," Lucy hissed as she cast a nervous glance around her, "You realize what's about to happen here, right? Sooner or later there's going to be a battle and…"
"And Wyatt already told me that I was supposed to get you the hell out of here before any of that went down." Shaking his head, he added, "Made me promise before he would even leave that I would as a matter of fact."
Far from looking touched by Wyatt's thoughtfulness for their safety, Lucy went suddenly pale. "You mean he told you that he wanted us to leave without him?" she whispered.
"I know," Rufus said, "I said the same thing, but we don't have to…what?"
Reaching into the pocket of Wyatt's coat she had draped over her shoulders, Lucy silently pulled out a wrinkled piece of parchment. "I found this," she said quietly handing it to him. "Why wouldn't he tell us about this?"
Confused, Rufus unfolded the parchment, "A deed?" he muttered before glancing back up to Lucy in concern, "What the hell…? Why would he buy land here?"
"What if…Rufus...what if, what if…he's given up? What if…what if he…" she trailed off shaking her head as she leapt to her feet and began pacing, "You remember what he said when we first got here…that he didn't want to be a part of this team anymore?"
"Yeah, but that was then…" Rufus offered with a touch of uncertainty, "…and even if he wanted to quit, he wouldn't…I mean, why the hell would he want to stay here?"
Lucy paused in her pacing to offer Rufus a meaningful glance, "Why did he want to stay behind at the Alamo?"
Rufus shifted uncomfortably, but shook his head in the negative, "No…this…this isn't…" he shook his head, "Wyatt wanted us all to leave…he told me," he argued, but it was more than obvious to him that Lucy wasn't so sure.
"Look at that date, Rufus," Lucy argued, "it was weeks ago. Why wouldn't he tell us about this?"
For that, Rufus had no answer. If he had up and decided to purchase land in 1754, he would have mentioned it…but why Wyatt didn't was an absolute mystery to him. Sure, the guy liked his privacy, but this wasn't like sharing photos on social media or refusing to disclose your birthday in pleasant conversation…this was straight up putting down roots in the 18th freaking century.
So why the hell hadn't he said anything?
Lucy, however, was coming up with her own conclusions. "You know, a few weeks ago I think..I think he tried to tell me about this," she gasped. "He…he kept saying that you and I had family to get home to…but, Rufus," she said in a panic, "he didn't say anything about himself."
'Well, I don't think it means that he doesn't…I mean," Rufus scoffed, "sure he's alone…but…"
Lucy looked back at Rufus, her eyes filling with tears as she remembered those heartbreaking words he uttered back at her in 1836 - Everyone I care about is gone.
He was alone.
So why wouldn't he want to stay here? Here was better than the Alamo she surmised..not by much, but if he got away from the frontier, maybe moved East…he could really make something of himself - away from the painful memories of his own past. At least here, those things hadn't happened yet. Yes, in her mind, it was crystal clear why Wyatt would choose to stay behind…she just wished he understood that for her…it was unthinkable.
Angry and heartbroken, tears streamed down her face. Angry at Wyatt for leaving her like he had, angry at the French for pursuing them non-stop since they arrived, angry at herself for falling so head over heels for a man who could never love her back.
She thought, dammit…she thought…maybe. He had been so worried about her, after all…and then, in the cabin…he had almost kissed her…or…or had she dreamed that up?
Oh, she couldn't think straight anymore.
Holding her pounding head in her hands, Lucy tried to make heads or tails of Wyatt Logan, but found herself even more confused the longer she worked to unravel the enigmatic soldier. He cared about her, that much she knew because he told her so…but beyond that?
At times they were hardly civil to one another, but other times…ugh…other times she could hardly breathe when he looked at her.
But if he cared, if he really cared he would have told her about the deed, right? And would have made a point to say good-bye before he left on a suicide mission?
"I don't care what the hell he said at the Alamo," Rufus snapped at her when she mentioned it again, "or even what he said when we first landed in this damn place," he spat out, "this Wyatt is not that Wyatt…he isn't alone…he has us."
"Does he know that?" Lucy asked as her bottom lip quivered. Sighing she sank down on the log beside him, "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I should be the one out there," Lucy muttered. "I'm the one who left her behind."
Rufus scoffed at her incredulously, "I think you get a pass on that, Lucy…you weren't exactly in any kind of position to save anybody. Remember? Wyatt and I dragged your frozen ass all the way back to camp."
"I should have said something sooner…I should have demanded we go back to get her…"
"Uh-huh…and when exactly would we have done that? Right before ol' Colonel McKee and company accused you of being a French spy?" Rufus eyed her meaningfully as she slumped down beside him in defeat, "You know as well as I do that McKee busted his ass to get here because he was terrified Wyatt was leading John Fraser into a damn trap."
"Technically speaking he did…" Lucy muttered, motioning to the woods around them, "In a few days, weeks…months…who knows…Braddock's army will be almost completely annihilated by the French."
"I know," Rufus replied, "and so does Wyatt..which is why he told me if anything goes down, I'm supposed to get you the hell out of here - with or without him."
"I'm not leaving without Wyatt," Lucy warned him.
Rufus bit his lip and nodded his head, "Yeah, I had a feeling you were going to say that."
By the next day, Rufus's resolve to make good on his promise to Wyatt was put to the test.
A hunting party had been attacked by a few marauders, sending Colonel McKee into an absolute paranoid tizzy. As Lucy, still weak and was attempting to help with the wounded, McKee dragged her in front of Braddock by the hair and all but demanded she be thrown from the camp.
"I don't see any call for that," Braddock replied glibly, "not yet, anyway." Chuckling, he made his way over to an indignant Lucy and shrugged, "After all, her beau did say the French wanted him dead…his death might have satisfied their need for revenge. Then again…the French are a passionate people and…speaking as a man of passion myself," he said as he cupped Lucy's cheek with his hand, "I can see why they might prefer to have this one." Smiling again, he nodded to McKee, "No, no…let's see how this plays out…we may be able to get more than we originally bargained for…"
"One day," McKee spat out angrily. "I'll give him one more day and then I'm sending a letter of my own."
As Lucy emerged from McKee's headquarters, Rufus slowly approached her. "You okay?"
Fighting back tears while massaging her aching head, Lucy sniffed, "No." That one small admittance let loose the floodgates. They were tears of sorrow, of frustration, of anger…that was evidently clear even to Rufus who, by his own admittance, wasn't the greatest at reading people.
He was, however, a good friend…at least, he tried to be. So as Lucy cried, he hugged her close, wanting to reassure her that everything was going to be okay, but knowing damn well he was just as worried as she was.
"We can spring out of here tonight," he offered. "Get the hell out before they even realize we're gone."
"I'm not leaving without Wyatt," Lucy maintained thickly before she retreated back into the mill, presumably to cry the rest of the night
Rufus watched her go with a heavy sigh, "Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say."
This morning, however, Lucy's tears were flowing freely as the sounds of musket fire grew louder and more persistent. Rather than dwell on why that might be, Lucy attempted to busy herself by tending to a few wounded soldiers and doing some menial chores…but it was no use, every crack that rent the air had her practically pulling her hair out with worry.
By the afternoon things were only worse. What had begun as a light skirmish with a few reconnaissance troops on the ridge was now a full-on assault. Luckily for the British, their position made it nearly impossible for the French to make any gains against them, but while they physically couldn't enter the camp, their musketballs sure as hell could.
Covered in the blood of the wounded, Lucy frantically ripped pieces of muslin for bandages, ducking her head at every high-pitched whistling arc that exploded into the nearby trees. Mrs. Poe, unfettered as ever, barked out orders above the din, directing the placement of the injured all while administering relief to those already situated.
Lucy was in near hysterics, realizing fully now what the arrival of the French must mean. Wyatt had failed…and it was all her fault. She had all but sent him on a suicide mission and now…now the French were coming for the rest of them.. Her hands shook violently, even as she willed them to still, if only to not inflict more pain on the men already writhing in agony.
Seeing her, Mary swooped down beside her and rubbed her arm, assuring her, "John will never let them take off with ye…not if he can help it."
Her assurances, though appreciated, did nothing for Lucy's nerves. In Mary Fraser, all of her guilt over Wyatt's loss was centered. How many times had Wyatt pleaded with her not to meddle? How many times had he urged her to think about Mary…maybe if she had, Wyatt would still be here.
All morning and all afternoon, the British staved off the attack finally delivering a devastating blow to the French via cannon. As they retreated to lick their own wounds , the camp let out a collective sigh of relief…at least some of them did. Lucy could not and neither, for that matter, could Rufus. As night fell and the torches were lit, he made his way over to where she was still busily assisting with the wounded. "Rough day," he observed solemnly as she clearly fought back tears.
"What do you want?" she sniffed stiffly, not looking at him.
"I think," Rufus whispered as he crouched down next to her, "we need to get the hell out of here." Lucy stilled her work and stared at her hands. "I don't like it any more than you do," he urged, "but dammit, Lucy…Wyatt made me promise."
"No," she whispered as a tear streaked down her muddy and blood stained cheek. "I'm not going."
"You may not have a choice," Rufus reminded her as he nodded towards Colonel McKee. "I don't think I need to remind you that eyebrows over there is just itching to send you over to the damn French." As Lucy flinched away from him, he added, "You were there for me when those French assholes tried to sell me into slavery…remember?" Lucy nodded slowly. "Yeah, well this is me…returning the favor."
Lucy, however, continued at her work - ripping strips of muslin and mixing up poultices, ignoring every effort Rufus made to get her attention. As he overheard Colonel McKee loudly proclaim that he had "waited long enough" though, Rufus moved to act - determined to drag her off to the damn Lifeboat when sentries sounded the alarm that another band of Frenchmen were making their approach.
Bracing himself for another assault, Rufus armed himself with a shovel, long giving up on his ability with a musket as Daniel Morgan growled out a warning, "Stay back ye devils, or I'll make ye sorry you ever left me alive!"
"Is that anyway to greet an old friend, Morgan?"
Daniel Boone's voice - so clear and strong, echoed through the camp, filling everyone with a sense of much needed relief after days of worry.
Rufus immediately dropped his shovel and raced to find Lucy, anxious to tell her the good news, but she was already stumbling forward, desperately weaving her way through a throng of curious soldiers welcoming back their wayward peers.
The straggling band slowly made their way into the camp…looking disheveled and exhausted…but otherwise alive and besides a few scrapes and bruises…relatively unharmed. At first, it was just Daniel Boone and his trusted band of Mohawks, but then, there he was - Wyatt - slowly making his way up the ridge, stopping every few feet or so to look at something or someone behind him.
The sight of him, after so many days of worry, had Lucy almost running forward, when Mary Fraser's voice sounded beside her, "There now, he's back…just like I told ye he'd be…"
A lump formed in Lucy's throat, one impossible to swallow down, as a small, frail figure emerged in Wyatt's wake. Lucy cast a wary look sideways at Mary's confused face when John cried out in joy and swept Jane up into his arms, hugging and kissing her as if his life depended on it.
She had often imagined, when she first read about the Fraser's, how their reunion might be, her tendency to get swooped away by anything remotely romantic bringing her back to this story and so many others like it in her years of study and research. Seeing it in person, though…knowing as she did, the real people behind it…was overwhelming.
The raw emotion of the scene, the utter and clear relief readily apparent on both of their faces after nearly two years of hell…it was nearly impossible to focus on anything else but them…
Almost.
"Why…that…that can't be…" Mary uttered beside her, her voice trembling thick with emotion and Lucy felt all at once her pain, her misery as she realized her life was never going to be the same again. In that horrible moment, with John now crying out "my Jane is alive!" - Mary Fraser broke down and Lucy's was the first shoulder she leaned on. She could feel her hot tears wetting her neck as she sobbed violently against her and in that horrible moment filled with guilt and heartache, Lucy caught Wyatt's eye.
Never, in all the time she had known him, had she ever seen him looking so distraught. He was standing apart from everyone else, watching her, watching Mary…until the moment his eyes met Lucy's. Almost immediately he turned away and retreated into the shadows…alone.
Lucy made to follow him but just as she started forward, her arm was seized by Jane Fraser who pulled her in for a desperate hug. "I knew you wouldn't forget me," she gasped through her tears. "I knew if you got free you'd move heaven and earth to see me saved."
And then it was John pulling her into a hug, thanking her through his own tears for all that she had done - not just in telling them that Jane was alive, but in being a friend to his wife in those desperate moments they spent together with the French.
"I think she was more a friend to me than I was to her," Lucy dismissed, her face flushing hot at the unmistakable look of hurt and betrayal on Mary Fraser's face she could readily see over Jane's shoulder.
"Nonsense," Jane urged, "she was truly a gift sent by God…just like Mary, I hear. Is….is this…?" she asked, motioning to Mary who suddenly looked mortified by the attention.
As if coming to his senses, John apologized, "Ah…yes…Mary, I…I'm sorry…I forget myself..."
Jane, however, walked past John and wrapped her arms around Mary, embracing her tightly, "I thank ye with all my heart for looking after him so well, I hope," she added, "we can be dear friends."
It was horribly awkward…and Lucy truly felt for John who, after the initial shock and joy at seeing Jane had passed,was now agonizing over his neglect of Mary. It was one thing to read about it and pass it off as some sticky situation made better by mutual understanding and respect - quite another to see people you can about realize their lives would never be the same again. Of course Mary would step aside, what else could she do? It didn't mean her heart wasn't completely broken by the revelation…nor John's either…as Lucy could readily see his torment.
A torment that Wyatt had tried repeatedly to warn her of.
Spurred on by that memory, Lucy again, attempted to find Wyatt, but her efforts this time were hampered by Colonel McKee and General Braddock who were so stunned by Jane's actual existence they cornered her and demanded she allow them to apologize for their "shocking" behavior. For Colonel McKee's part, especially, he was so remorseful, he insisted to make amends in any way he could...a sentiment echoes by Braddock who immediately ordered them into his headquarters for wine, cheese...and a bit of salted pork.
Reluctantly, Lucy found herself swept away, her repeated efforts at politely excusing herself falling on deaf ears as Braddock insisted he "knew all along" she was telling the truth.
She hardly ate her meal, listening instead to the harrowing details of Jane Fraser's plight. She had been dragged away by the French, beaten and very nearly killed for her escape attempt. Her life was spared, however, when a bloodied and injured Francis Coulon decided that she might be used to negotiate for Lucy.
"I didn't tell them a thing," Jane Fraser swore. "I don't know why they felt that you would be willing to give up one poor woman for another, " she said with a nod to Braddock, "but they had it in their heads that they could use me, so you see," she said with a nod to Lucy, "you saved my life, even if you weren't right there beside me."
"We were beginning to think the worst," Braddock admitted as he swirled a glass of port, "Our rescue party left four days ago and I must admit we were beginning to lose hope."
"That was my fault," Daniel Boone piped up, startling Lucy who hadn't realized he had joined them. "I was afraid our movements were being tracked so we swept up and over the far ridge yonder to take them by surprise. A good thing too, as they had scouts posted all throughout the woods here…ran into a few of them on our way back."
"Ah, yes," Braddock nodded, "we heard a bit of skirmish this morning, didn't we, John?"
"None of us would've survived that if it hadn't been for your husband," he said with a serious nod to Lucy. "He's one hell of a fighter."
"I know," Lucy acknowledged, feeling a surge of pride burst within her as she considered that Wyatt was being praised for his heroism by one of the greatest frontier heroes that America had ever produced. Then suddenly, she was missing him again, wondering why he hadn't joined them as Daniel Boone had done.
As the nights festivities came to a close, Lucy finally snuck away, grateful that her damaged reputation had been somewhat repaired by Jane's reappearance.
The excitement in the camp was still palpable. Apart from gaining a victory against the French with their clandestine plan, the restoration of Jane Fraser had made the soldiers giddy. Songs were being sung by a campfire, wine flowed freely, soldiers and laundry women danced while others huddled together and played a loud round of cards…yet everywhere Lucy looked she could not find Wyatt. She pushed her way through the crowd of merrymakers, her eyes scanning the dark recesses of the camp - where the light from the torches could not reach…and still…nothing.
Frustrated, she was about to enlist Rufus for his help, when she heard a sniffle on the far side of the camp, tucked away near where they had been treating the wounded earlier. Now, the place was all but deserted…except for a few men too near death to move to a warmer part of the camp…and Mary Fraser.
At first, Lucy thought she was alone, so focused was she on her friend's hunched and sobbing figure that she almost didn't see Wyatt sitting across from her on a stump of his own.
Lucy froze immediately at the sight, shielding herself somewhat from view behind a large tree. For a while, Mary did nothing more than cry…heartbreaking in and of itself, but it was Wyatt's tears more than anything that had her choking back tears of her own.
She'd never seen him cry…not like this…but he was. And for what? Mary Fraser? John? Jane? It seemed incredulous that he,no nonsense man that he was would be so affected by this tragic love triangle and yet here he was…wiping away tears and listening as Mary poured her heart out to him.
It shouldn't have surprised her. Despite his reputation for reckless bravado, Wyatt was surprisingly empathetic and kind. Out of every single person at Mason, he was the only one who acted like he gave a damn when Amy disappeared…and even when he had been shot, he still offered her comfort in the wake of Lincoln's assassination. So really, was it any wonder that i n the excitement that followed Jane Fraser's miraculous return, when Mary had been discarded, swept aside, forgotten by everyone…Wyatt was the one to try to help her pick up the broken pieces of her life?
He sat with her, quietly listening…not speaking…not doing anything from what Lucy could tell but being a figurative shoulder Mary Fraser could cry on. She could hardly peel her eyes away from him, the look of anguish on his face, the heavy burden of guilt he seemed to carry….but as a cheer rang up from the crowd behind her she turned reflexively towards the sound only to turn back and find that in that moment, Wyatt had pulled Mary Fraser in for a tight and, Lucy supposed, much needed hug.
"I told you he had a thing for Mary Fraser."
Lucy gasped and turned to find Rufus standing on the opposite side of the tree, observing the scene with a sad smirk.
"I…didn't mean to…I was just wondering where he had gone." she replied almost guiltily. "I…I didn't think it would affect him so much." She let out a watery chuckle, "I thought….I thought he, more than anyone, would have been happy for John."
"Yeah, I can see that," Rufus observed wryly, before wrapping his arm around Lucy and urging her away, "Come on," he muttered. "Let's go have a drink…I don't know about you…but I sure as hell need one."
Wyatt was ready to get the hell out of the 18th century - as far as he was concerned, it had brought nothing but misery. All his own desires aside, Lucy was still too weak to travel and the French were too damn close to even attempt to make a trek to the Lifeboat. Even if they somehow managed to get there in one piece, it would be no use - Rufus had all but told him he was "close…but not quite ready" with the damn capacitor.
It wasn't just the last few weeks of hell he was looking to escape…it was the promise that more was well on its way if they didn't get the hell out of Dodge.
Emboldened by the success of the mission to save Jane Fraser, Braddock decided now was as good a time as any to make a full on assault on Duquesne. Though Daniel Boone and John Fraser both encouraged him to take a moment and consider the terrain and the relative poor health of his men, Braddock argued that they "had the French on the run" and could "oust the devils once and for all before the spring set in."
By now, Wyatt's exploits had become almost legendary throughout the camp. Boone had related to anyone who would listen what a "damn good fighter" he was and that only served to encourage Braddock further. With Wyatt leading the charge, Braddock reasoned,the French would be so terrified, they'd probably throw up the flag of surrender before they even fired a shot.
"Looks like your reputation for being a badass followed you all the way to the 18th century," Rufus teased, but Lucy, upon hearing the rumors swirling around Braddock's new found respect for the Delta Force soldier, handled the news with less levity - desperately trying to corner him, no doubt for a lecture…and that was something he just could not deal with right now.
No…right now he wanted to be left the hell alone.
Since he had gotten back there hadn't been a moment when he hadn't been harangued by the same damn people who were calling him a "traitor" and a "spy" just days before. Now, they wanted to pour him a drink, chat about strategies, get his opinion on everything from the weather to the damn colonial postal service and he? He had had enough.
The worst, however, was Braddock.
Braddock, the same man who told him he was essentially expendable, was now begging him to join his doomed army. It was the "opportunity of a lifetime," a chance to "really make a name for himself,"he told him and yet each and every time he offered Wyatt a chance to commission, he just stared at him and walked away.
"I told ye," John Fraser observed one time, "he may be a fighter when he needs to fight, but the man has no interest in fighting a war. Did you not hear his tale?" Fraser reminded Braddock, "He'd much rather have peace…and after everything he's been through, I dare say he'd earned it."
"Peace?" Braddock scoffed, "With the French on his doorstep? He'll get no peace as long as those rapscallions insist on encroaching on His Majesty's land."
John Fraser was right, he did want peace…but for him, it was more about the war raging inside than outside that had him seeking out every quiet corner he could so that he could try to manage his thoughts.
Bringing back Jane Fraser had taken an unexpected emotional toll on him - unexpected in that he hadn't imagined it would affect him as much as it did. Of course, he was happy for John…and after he had seen what the French had done to her, he was more than happy to get Jane the hell out of harm's way.
But for as much as John loved Jane and had every right to be happy to have her back in his life, it was the almost utter disregard for Mary that bugged the hell out of him. The woman who had been there to pick up the pieces of his broken life, who had given him meaning again, who had nursed him through his injuries and watched over him as he lay in that damn bed day in and day out,,.hadn't gotten so much of a preamble before her life had been flipped upside down.
And he had been the one to do it.
"You know," John Fraser said, easing himself down on a stump next to him after dinner, "I never did thank you for what you did for my Jane."
"Really," Wyatt scoffed, "don't mention it."
"Aye, but I feel I must," John offered, "you brought back my wife and I'd be a poor friend indeed if I didn't express my appreciation for all that you sacrificed for my happiness."
Wyatt flinched, hating that John's life, his time with Mary was so cruelly minimalized. Before he could stop himself he observed glibly, "I didn't realize you were so unhappy before…"
John eyed him for a moment and nodded thoughtfully, "I hear your meaning…no, no I do," he insisted as Wyatt made to apologize. With a heavy sigh, John admitted softly, "It is a hard thing, what I had to do to Mary…but it had to be done. There was nothing else for it. Mary…she'll get over it in time."
"Will she?"
Though Wyatt tried to hide the bitterness in his tone, his reproach was unmistakable…and once again, he found himself softly apologizing to John Fraser who sat beside him for a long while in silence before replying softly, "I hope she does."
Wyatt swallowed hard at that, unable to look at John…too afraid to see the regret in his face.
"I know what you must think of me," John continued softly. "I gave up on ever finding my Jane alive and allowed myself to take comfort in the arms of someone else…the sin…it's on my head…and I will always live with the pain of it."
Wyatt wanted to respond, but found he couldn't.
"We leave tomorrow morning," John continued softly, "I'll be seeing Mary safely off to her father's and Jane and I? We will quit to Cumberland until we can rebuild our lives here." At Wyatt's continued science, John nodded, "I just wanted to let you know how much your friendship has meant to me. I will always be indebted to you…and your dear, dear wife."
As John got up to leave, Wyatt blurted out, "Would you do it again? Knowing…knowing what you know? Would you?"
"Wed Mary, you mean?" John asked. At Wyatt's nod, he frowned, "I cannot regret Mary…it would be too cruel, but," he added with a sigh as a tear made its way down his cheek, "if I could spare her the pain, I would. I would never have wed her if I had known I wasn't free to do so…the pain has been enormous for us both."
"Yeah," Wyatt muttered softly, "that's what I thought."
"My dear, you really ought to come with us to Cumberland," Mrs. Poe urged as Lucy weakly helped her pack up her few belongings. "A soldier's camp is no place for a respectable young woman…married or no…"
Lucy frowned, fighting back tears as she handed Mrs. Poe a small satchel,"Thank you," she said, "for everything."
Shaking her head, Mrs. Poe rebuked her, "You'll regret it m'dear. Braddock is gonna get the whole lot of ya killed, mark my words. There's already talk that he means to lay siege to that French fort on the Ohio."
Lucy's face darkened, knowing full-well what Braddock's ambitions were, but still, she held out hope that whatever assault he had planned would wait. Yet, as she watched the Fraser household make their way out of camp on a borrowed wagon, she couldn't help but hear the chatter among the camp. War was coming…and it was coming sooner rather than later.
"We have to get out of here," she whispered to Rufus later that night as she watched Wyatt slowly carving away at a tree limb. "If Braddock is serious, then we're going to find ourselves in the middle of the Battle of the Monongahela…and between us, I'd rather not have front row seats to that one."
"Look, I'm doing the best that I can," Rufus whispered back, nodding his head towards a burlap sack near the forge. "I can't exactly work on the capacitor when I'm fixing axles and making horseshoes and bullets all damn day Besides," Rufus hissed, "you're not exactly in the greatest condition. Wyatt says you still need to rest."
"Does he?" Lucy muttered grumpily, "You'd think he'd tell me that."
The hard truth was that Wyatt had barely acknowledged Lucy since he got back from his trip to save Jane Fraser. Some of it could be explained away in that in the evenings, especially her relatively poor health would overwhelm her, sending her to bed completely exhausted and with a pounding headache almost immediately after supper. Other times, though, when she was feeling better, she would make her way to wherever he happened to be, only to have him tell her in not so many words that he was "busy" and would talk to her later…but he never did.
And Lucy was worried he never would.
It wasn't that she was ignorant of the fact that saving Jane Fraser had been hard…harder than she ever would have believed for him. In some way, she felt, he blamed her for essentially forcing him to do it…even though she would have happily attempted to do it herself - she probably wouldn't have been successful, but she would have done it.
Still, Wyatt's reaction, though understandable, was….unexpected.
Rufus' teasing aside, she had never seen Wyatt so broken up, so absolutely devastated over anything…except perhaps when he told her about the death of his wife. Yet now that she thought it over, she figured saving Jane had been a painful reminder of what he had lost…and what he possibly could never have for himself.
Now with the rumors swirling that Braddock was working up a plan to rid the Ohio Valley of the French with Wyatt's help, Lucy's thoughts strayed once again to the land deed she found in his pocket. Was he that desperate to escape his life of misery to stay on here? She watched him as he seamlessly carried out the 18th century tasks before him, looking more at home here in the woods than either she or Rufus could ever dream of being themselves. She thought, too, of how proud he had been of that cabin…their home. Would he give that up for an empty apartment in a city filled with "coastal elites" as he called them?
Lucy couldn't deny that Wyatt was more at home here than they were. He knew how to survive - he could hunt, forage, farm…navigate these woods. His transition to this life had been less painful than hers and while he maintained outwardly that he was ready to go home, Lucy could see a part of him…wanted to stay.
It wasn't anything he explicitly said or did that made her suspect Wyatt had grown attached to the place. There were just times when he would get a wistful look about him when he was in the woods…or working in the garden…or even just sitting by the fire in the cabin.
She had often told herself she was being silly and paranoid, that Wyatt would never give up his quest to get home. Yet, seeing that deed made her realize for the first time since Flynn blew a hole in the Lifeboat that his dedication to seeing them safely home might be just that - a determination and dedication to see them out of harm's while he stayed behind and lived out the rest of his life in a time and place far removed from the pain of his present.
"You know," Rufus offered, "as much as I want to get the hell out of here, I see Wyatt's point in wanting to stay…I mean, if that's his aim." As Lucy turned to him in confusion, he shrugged, "We still don't know if this damn thing will work…we could end up in the middle of the damn Atlantic in 1492 and be worse off than what we are now."
"So are you saying we shouldn't even try?" Lucy asked incredulously.
"No, no…of course not," Rufus frowned, "I'm just saying…if I didn't have a family back home…I might consider…I mean, it would suck …but we've made it this far, right?"
"Right," Lucy muttered, her anxiety climbing sky high now. Leaving Rufus, she frantically weaved her way through the camp towards where Wyatt was now headed, determined once and for all to talk to him.
Chasing him down, however, proved difficult. Everywhere Wyatt went he was cheered and surrounded by soldiers who looked at him now as an almost legendary figure. He was a superhero to these men and she could hardly move and inch towards him without being shoved back a few feet by soldiers eager to pour him a pint.
While Lucy was pleased they weren't regarded as spies anymore, his newfound notoriety was doing nothing for her raw nerves. If anything, she was even more concerned he might do something stupid…like stay here…because he had found a sense of belonging among the army.
"I need to talk to you," Lucy huffed out, gripping Wyatt's arm as he made to leave at her approach.
"What for?" Wyatt mumbled as he wrenched his arm out of her grip, "Got another rescue mission for me?"
Lucy stared at him, "That's not fair. I didn't ask you to…"
"I know you didn't" Wyatt replied softly, not looking at her.
Shaking her head, Lucy sighed, "Then what's wrong, Wyatt? You…" she scoffed helplessly, "You just haven't been the same since…"
"Yeah, well…"
"Wyatt," Lucy gritted out, gripping him by the arms, forcing him to look at her, "look, I know getting Jane was hard…and…and everything you went through to get me back from the French…"
Wyatt scoffed.
"...but Rufus is almost finished…and then, then Wyatt…we can finally go home. We can put all of this behind us."
Frowning, Wyatt nodded, looking almost pained by the idea. "I should've have gotten you and Rufus the hell out of here a long time ago…"
Lucy froze, eyeing Wyatt warily, "Well, it's not like we haven't been trying…"
"No, that's not what I meant," he offered, looking at her desperately. "Don't you ever wish we had...we had listened to John all those months ago? Gotten the hell away from here?" Lucy stared back at him, confused. "Hell, we could get the hell out of here now and head off to Philadelphia or Williamsburg for all I care…just as long as we aren't here ."
"You don't mean that…"
"The hell I don't…do you really want to be mixed up in this damn war?" Wyatt cursed, "I should have listened to John all those months ago," he repeated as he resumed pacing, "we should've just gone someplace safe…let Rufus work on the damn capacitor or whatever the hell it is away from all of this…" He nodded, "We could have stayed safe...been happier..."
"Wyatt…if we did that, who knows how long…"
"Does it really matter?" he spat out. "We've already been here for months, hell…we don't even know if Mason found that damn protocol." Gripping her hands, he asked, "Are you sure we can trust Rufus' plan?"
"What...what are you saying?" Lucy asked, her voice trembling with emotion. "Wyatt...are you...are you saying you don't want to leave?"
He shook his head, "I don't...know...I don't know anymore." Retaking his seat on the stump, he murmured almost to himself, "It's just a big risk...don't you think?" As Lucy continued to stare at him, he jumped to his feet again and began pacing again, "We never should have stayed here," he muttered again, clearly anxious. In fact, Lucy had only seen Wyatt this edgy one other time in her life…and the memory of it was enough to make her reach out and grab his face like she had that awful day in 1836.
"Wyatt," she gritted out desperately, "we're getting out of here…in the Lifeboat…all of us, you understand me?" Narrowing his eyes at her, Wyatt wrenched his face out of her grip, as if just realizing she was still there. "I know what your getting at," she nodded meaningfully, "and no, Wyatt...I'm not okay with it." He cursed and made to move away from her, but she chased after him. Breathing heavily and desperately trying to keep her tears at bay, Lucy stuffed her hands into her skirt pocket and pulled out the rumpled deed, practically throwing it at him as she gritted out, "When were you going to tell me about this?"
Seeing it, Wyatt scoffed, trying to move past her again, "The deed? That's…that's nothing…"
"Nothing? So you, what? Decided you were just going to settle here and not even discuss it with me? With Rufus?"
"No…I just didn't think it was that big of a deal…John just," he paused as Lucy scoffed in indignation, "what?"
Lucy stared at him as if he had slapped her. "How could you?"
"How could I, what? John signed the deed over to me and I just forgot to tell you, okay? It's not like I was planning on making you and Rufus stay here." As Lucy continued to stare at him looking absolutely mortified, Wyatt's impatience won out. "Look, I admit…maybe I should have said something…but dammit, what the hell does it matter? I already knew you and Rufus wouldn't…I just thought that maybe..."
"So what, because we hadn't given up on trying to get home, you didn't think we had any right to know that…"
"Are you really going to be lecturing me on keeping secrets?" Wyatt snapped. "The whole damn reason we're stuck here in the first place is because you and Rufus didn't…"
"This isn't…"
"Oh no? Tell me," Wyatt challenged, "if Flynn hadn't had us tied to those damn chairs would you have ever told me about that damn journal?" Angry tears worked their way down Lucy's cheeks as she glared at him, but when she didn't respond, Wyatt scoffed as he stormed off, "Yeah, I didn't think so."
"Wyatt!" Lucy called, but it was no use, he was back among the soldiers being led away towards Braddock's headquarters where even more rumors swirled about late night poker games, free flowing wine and scantily clad women.
Huffing out a frustrated breath as she watched him go, Lucy turned on her heel and made her way back to Rufus…her heart even more heavy than it had been before.
He hadn't meant to snap at her…or to bring up the damn journal…he just…he just couldn't understand why she insisted on keeping herself in harm's way. He meant what he said, they could leave, wait out the damn war…come back when things calmed down…except no, they couldn't…because just the idea of it had her looking at him like he was the last person on Earth she would ever….
So yes, he wanted to be left alone to deal with whatever the hell was brewing inside him..the soldiers wouldn't let him however,…and now…now Braddock was practically dragging him into his headquarters to demand he join his band of redcoats.
He had half a mind to do it because then, he thought, he might just get some damn peace.
As it was, there was no peace to be had in the camp or in Braddock's newly fitted headquarters. The General liked his liquor and his women…that much was clear…but now that his confidence was bolstered he was downright obnoxious and more determined than ever to get his way.
Finding himself dragged before Braddock again, Wyatt hardly batted an eye when he immediately began soliciting him, making him offers of money, position..even women, if he'd consider joining the ranks of his force.
"Why, you've already caused quite a stir…imagine how much influence you could have if you were to drive the French out of the Ohio? Why, your name would be known throughout these colonies, I dare say…and that," he said with a meaningful nod as he readjusted a young lady on his lap,"can afford you all sorts of privileges in just about every town you visit."
Unimpressed, Wyatt heaved out an impatient sigh, "I already told you, I don't want any part of your damn army…can I go now?"
Ignoring him, Braddock shooed his mistress away and handed Wyatt a glass of wine, "I take it your wife is better now that you are back?" Wyatt merely grunted in return, not interested in Braddock's fake concern, particularly when just five seconds earlier he was all but encouraging infidelity.
"She's quite something…your wife." Braddock observed. "I can certainly see why the French were so enamored with her."
Wyatt slowly lowered his glass of wine and stared hard at Braddock who merely smiled at him in return.
"It seems to me…a woman like that…would fare much better in the city. What possessed you to bring her to these God-forsaken woods?"
"I told you," Wyatt gritted out, wholly impatient now, "We were stranded out here…"
"Ah yes, I remember…the guide," Braddock nodded. "Incredibly fortunate that you found such a good friend in John Fraser, aye?"
Wyatt sipped on his wine and said nothing, suspicious of what Braddock was playing at.
"So…you live with John at his farm…"
"Not exactly," Wyatt replied. "He has another piece of property right next door…well, I guess technically its mine now," Wyatt remembered.
"Oh yes, he mentioned something about that to me when he was vouching for your character…signed over the deed to you did he not?"
"Yeah, I mean…I didn't ask him to do it…."
"So…you are living in an English colony, passing yourself off as an Englishman and subjecting yourself to our English laws…you were married by an English rector were you not?"
"I guess…"
"And yet you refuse to show your appreciation for the country who offered you refuge from your troubles by taking up arms against those who would encroach on her sovereign territories…"
"I think I've done more than my fair share…"
"These are trying times and as such we need all the help we can get," Braddock observed, frowning. "Alas, I am not permitted to directly conscript able-bodied men into military service…"
"Too bad for you…"
"That ability," Braddock announced over him, "lies with your colonial representative government. I have right here, an edict from the Governor, James Hamilton, himself," Braddock continued wryly, pulling out a well worn document from his desk, "that should I require men, I may raise up provincial troops among the populace as I see fit. Now, I've tried being reasonable, but you refuse to see reason…
"You son of a…"
"You will serve at my behest until I deem your obligation to The Crown fulfilled…ideally when we drive the French out of Duquesne."
"I'm not doing a damn thing," Wyatt argued. "I'm getting myself and my wife the hell out of here. I think she's been through enough, don't you?"
"It is for your wife's welfare that I make this proposal…"
Wyatt scoffed. "Proposal? You haven't proposed anything…"
"On the contrary," Braddock countered, "I proposed this to you almost immediately after your heroic return. Since you refused, I've had to go to lean on more extreme options, but my lad…how could I not when you clearly have a talent for this type of warfare?" He chuckled, "You know I lost five guineas betting against your life? I thought for sure, you were a dead man when you proposed that foolish escapade…and yet, here you are…against all odds - alive."
"Yeah, and I'd like to stay that way," Wyatt spat back. "I'm getting the hell out of here…"
"It's your choice, of course…but it'd be a shame to have to resort to other methods to remove the French…particularly when you worked so hard…"
"What the hell do you mean by that?"
Braddock smiled at him from his desk, studying him…making him squirm with anticipation until he slowly lifted a letter out of his coat pocket, "I have here another request from the French…demanding the speedy return of your wife…and yourself."
"You wouldn't dare…"
"I would do anything to see the French removed from this land…and if they are that desperate, then perhaps we can work out some kind of arrangement…" Wyatt made to punch him, but was stopped by a sentry who forced his arm behind his back. Amused, Braddock chuckled, "Save that anger for the French…I dare say, you'll need it."
Never in Wyatt's wildest imaginings did he ever think he would don the red coat of a British army soldier…yet here he was doing that very damn thing. He hated Braddock more than he hated that sonofabitch French soldier who threatened Lucy…and that was saying something.
He had half a mind to go AWOL, desert the damn camp, run…but he knew, even in the best of circumstances their chances of getting to the Lifeboat safely were slim. Lucy was weak…and Braddock was determined…and so too, were the damn French. Maybe with one army on their tail they'd have a chance, but two?
Besides, Braddock must have suspected he would try to run, doubling the amount of sentries posted all along the damn perimeter of the camp.
He hadn't told Lucy about Braddock's threat…or about his reluctant agreement to join the British army, figuring he'd save himself the lecture. Given the battle that was sure to come, he knew exactly what she'd say…and well, he didn't need the reminder that he was about to go marching off to war with a doomed army.
He was trying to stay positive…like how he couldn't wait for the French to annihilate Braddock's ass.
It would serve him right.
Yet, as tight-lipped as he had been, word around the camp traveled fast that the "German who had summarily beaten the French, not once - but twice" had up and joined the British army.
"Technically," Rufus observed to Lucy when word got round to them, "it was three times…four, if you count that time he sprang you out of that fort," he paused, "and then there was that time he went all Delta Force on those guys who captured us when we first got here….and then there was the night of your wedding…"
"Alright!" Lucy gritted out impatiently, "so he's had some luck…but Rufus…why he is he doing this? He knows what's about to happen…."
"We don't even know that it's true….you know how the old rumor mill works…"
But just at that moment, Wyatt emerged from Braddock's headquarters looking solemn and cross…wearing a bright red regimental jacket.
"Rufus…" Lucy hissed, pulling on his arm sleeve, as if he weren't staring at the exact same thing she was staring at.
"That doesn't mean anything…" Rufus argued weakly. "I mean…maybe he just…needed some new clothes." At Lucy's panicked expression, however, Rufus sighed, "Okay…I'll talk to him."
Wyatt was sitting alone, brooding, and mindlessly carving away at a fallen tree limb…a usual pastime for him these days….when Rufus plopped down on the log beside him. "You know, it's none of my business…"he observed, "but you're the last person I thought I'd see wearing this get up….aren't you supposed to be a Quaker?"
Wyatt didn't reply, he just began carving away at the stick with more purpose.
"What the hell's going on, Wyatt?" Rufus attempted again, "Do you have any idea how upset Lucy is over this?"
"Yeah, figures," he grunted out. "Let me guess, she's worried about the damn battle."
"Yeah, " Rufus replied slowly, "and she's worried about you." Wyatt turned towards his friend, anger and frustration written all over his face, but Rufus didn't even flinch. "You gonna bite my head off too? Yeah," Rufus pressed as Wyatt recoiled somewhat, "I heard about your fight with Lucy."
"So?" Wyatt challenged, looking somewhat abashed.
"So…" Rufus urged, "why are you doing this? Is it just to piss her off? Or have you just given up on ever getting the hell out of here and decided to put down roots and start a new career in the British army?"
"I don't have a choice," Wyatt spat out, pointing to his red uniform, "I've been drafted."
"Uh-huh," Rufus frowned, "and you do know what's about to happen here, right?"
"Yes…"
"Because I'm pretty sure Lucy said Braddock gets his ass handed to him and then some and personally between you and me…I'd rather not be here when that happens."
"Why the hell do you think I never agreed to this?" Wyatt gritted out, "You think I want to align myself with that asshole?"
Rufus observed him for a while before prompting, "And the deed?"
Wyatt breathed out a curse, "Look, I'm sorry I didn't mention it, okay…John just signed it over and…" he paused, arrested by the sight of Lucy wringing her hands and casting nervous glances his way from across the camp. Turning his attention back to Rufus, he reluctantly admitted, "Okay….there was a moment when I thought…maybe…"
"Maybe you'd lost your mind and decided to live out your life in the damn dark ages?"
"Not exactly…it's just…I don't know…" Wyatt began.
"What," Rufus challenged, "do you just…hate indoor plumbing? Grocery stores? Civilization?"
Wyatt shook his head, his eyes cast down to the ground as he muttered sullenly, "Sometimes I just think it'd be easier, you know?"
"Easier?" Rufus almost laughed, "In what way?"
With a heavy sigh, Wyatt glanced back up at Rufus and replied with a shrug, "Starting over."
Braddock had formed an elaborate plan, one that envisioned him marching victoriously through the Pennsylvania wilderness, carving a wide path all the way to Duquesne where the French would inevitably lay down their weapons and welcome him in. Wyatt already knew that wasn't going to happen…and the crux of it was, he was going to have to make sure it didn't happen, because Braddock was supposed to lose…and lose badly. Yet as his eyes darted to a sickly looking George Washington on the other side of Braddock's headquarters Wyatt was starting to wonder if maybe they were too damn late to salvage anything out of this crazy damn battle.
The whole of the camp would move, with infantry leading the charge while the battery units would support from behind, supported further by the reserve units of militia…which is where Lucy and Rufus would be…tending to wounded and resuppling ammunition. They could be days behind each other…cut off by wilderness, loads of battery forces and for all he knew, the damn French.
As much as Wyatt hated the situation, knowing full well that anything could happen, there was little he could do to change it. Escape was not an option and neither, for that matter, was dying. Given that he couldn't personally look after Lucy and Rufus, he pulled a disgruntled Daniel Morgan aside, "Look, I know you want to be on the front lines," he began as he took in the state of the soldier, "but I'm gonna need you to look after Lucy."
"No offense to your beloved, but I'm not a nursemaid…I'm a fighter…and if Braddock wants to whip these rascals, he'd not hold back a man who sorely wishes to avenge their cowardly deed. Shooting a man from behind," Morgan growled as he adjusted the bandage around his head, "the injustice of it is almost more than I can bear."
"And that's why I need you ," Wyatt pressed, "these assholes aren't going to think twice about attacking the damn hospital camp…."
"Do you really think so?" Morgan asked, looking suddenly more cheerful. "What makes you so sure?"
Wyatt cast a look across the camp towards Lucy and frowned, "Just a hunch."
He hadn't dwelt on his brief re-encounter with the French, but he had sought out the handsy asshole who had repeatedly harassed Lucy. After hearing everything that sonofabitch had subjected her to, he had sorely regretted not killing the bastard when he had the damn chance. So he entered the camp with one thought in mindd…revenge.
And he hadn't gotten it.
Alerted to their presence, the French lodged a swift counter assault and took up defensive positions behind their crude battlements. He might have been able to take out a few assholes, with his training, but once Boone spied Jane Fraser, his objective for revenge had given way to a nobler one.. of getting her out of harm's way. Yet even as he fought his way towards her, his eyes were searching the camp for that one, salacious bastard.
He spied him too late. Jane Fraser was already clinging to him by the time he zeroed in on the man whose face was branded into his memory with the hot iron of fury. He aimed his pistol nevertheless, firing a shot he knew would miss, but it left him in no doubt that asshole had seen him.. and now, now he was afraid his failure would come back to bite him in the ass.
Walking determinedly to Rufus, he slipped him his second .45. "Take this," he urged, "and shoot any asshole that tries to ambush youu…"
"You think we're going to be ambushed?!" Rufus exclaimed, as Wyatt hushed him, "What the hell.. I thought they were just supposed to attack you guys?"
"Wouldn't count on it," Wyatt continued, handing him another clip. "Just point and shoot, okay? And if you need to reload," he urged as he demonstrated, "just release the clip with this button here, drop it and reload," he showed him, slapping the magazine into the grip.
Rufus stared at him, "I…I've never shot anyone in my life before…"
"Well, now is as good a time as any to learn," Wyatt observed with a smirk, before assuring him seriously, "This is just a precaution , okay?" Rufus nodded, "I mean it, if you get into any trouble…you get Lucy and get the hell out of here…"
"And what about you?" Rufus pressed.
"Don't worry about me," Wyatt dismissed, "I'm not going to do anything stupid…"
"Hate to break it to you Wyatt, but walking around in a bright red coat in the middle of the woods, heading into battle? That's about the stupidest thing you could do…especially when we know how the hell this battle is supposed to pan out…"
"Yeah, well…it's a different time, right? So who knows? Maybe it won't be so bad…"
"Don't let Lucy hear you say that," Rufus warned as Wyatt smirked at him. "I mean it man, you better not die. I didn't survive all this time out here just to drag your dead ass back to 2016."
""I'll be careful," Wyatt assured him, before a bugle call had him making his way back towards the line of infantry. A foggy mist was still hovering among the trees when the summons came to leave camp and march…and Wyatt was grateful for the added cover. Maybe, he thought, they could at least move off the ridge without being spotted by the French; looking down in the valley below, he could see nothing but a swirling, thick fog.
He was just making his way to the line formations when his arm was seized by a horrified Lucy who was staring at him like he had slapped her.
"Wyatt…" she gasped, casting a horrified glance at his uniform, "just what do you think you are doing?"
"Lucy…"
"No Wyatt," she gritted out anxiously, "you can't fight in this battle," she urged, "you know what happens…"
"I don't have a damn choice," Wyatt answered back in a huff, wrenching his arm out of her grip. "But you do," he said, "You and Rufus can get the hell out of here and make your way to the Lifeboat the first chance you get, got it?"
"No…no," Lucy replied frantically, pulling on Wyatt's arm, "I told you…I'm not leaving without you."
"Lucy…"
"Wyatt, listen to me," she sobbed, "this battle? Braddock's troops are ambushed practically from all sides…"
"It's not an ambush if you're prepared for it," Wyatt reminded her, assuring, "Don't worry…I have a plan…"
"And then what?" Lucy argued frantically, "Wyatt, please…I…I know you've grown attached to this place, but…"
"What?" he asked, suddenly realizing why she was upset…but the cheers from the soldiers were too loud and distracting, "No…that's not…we'll talk about that later, okay?"
"No, Wyatt….please," Lucy begged, "Don't do this….
The sound of a bugle call and more cheers had Wyatt flinching as he tried to reassure a now crying Lucy, "Listen to me," he said earnestly, "I'm not planning on dying out here today, got it?" He scoffed as he looked down, "Especially not in this uniform." She nodded shakily as she frantically wiped her tears. Seeing her look so concerned, Wyatt softened and reached a hand out to her, "It's gonna be okay, Lucy, alright?" He paused for a moment and then added meaningfully, "This isn't like the Alamo."
At that, Lucy couldn't help herself, she flung herself forward and wrapped her arms around Wyatt's neck pulling him in for a desperate hug. Beyond him, she could see Braddock pacing proudly before his men, calling them to attention, barking out orders. Pulling Wyatt tighter she whispered, "Don't you dare let Braddock win."
Chuckling Wyatt whispered back, "I don't think that's going to be a problem…"
There were many things Lucy wanted to say, so many things she wished she had the courage to tell him….but just like it had done so many times before, her courage faltered and she found herself sobbing, "Don't die….and keep Washington safe…and Daniel Boone…and…"
"Lucy…" Wyatt tried to assure her…but he was now being called for by name and Lucy could do little more than watch as he walked away, nodding at her as he took his place among the front line.
Notes:
We've got a lot of drama in this one..and while I wanted to give you all some resolution...it just ends better here. The good news, I don't anticipate a long wait for the next chapter...this one was super long (which is why it took forever)...but the next one will ring more familiar and therefore won't require quite so much dialogue planning. We are rapidly nearing the end - I know that it hard to believe, but it's happening.
As for the chapter...Wyatt is a conflicted mess - we knew that - but now that John has had to deal with the fallout of being married to two women at once, he's beginning to see the danger in his own situation and realizing he needs to make a choice. His conversation with John is sort of a realization of his worse fears...while his conversation with Lucy is him desperately trying to both justify his feelings and seek out a way to let the charade last a little longer without them being in harm's way. Lucy, however, misses his meaning and inadvertently hurts Wyatt in the process. His conversation with Rufus is important because it's really the first time Wyatt admits that the reason he wants to stay behind is because in the 18th century, it would be easier to start over with someone else. He and Lucy are already married (sort of) and he's existing in a time before he met Jessica, before she was murdered. He knows if they go back to 2016, things won't be the same. Lucy will go back to her life and he'll go back to his...and no, he's not happy about it...which is why he's grumpy...that, and he thinks that Lucy would never...
