Hey everyone :)

First of all: Thank you for your support, as always. It´s really appreciated. But actually I´m curious, if you have a guess whether Connor and Lillian are expecting a little boy or a little girl. ;) It would be really interesting to read that, but please consider that it won´t influence the final "result". This part of the story is already finished after all. Actually the child is already two years old, regarding to the German chapter I´m currently writing. ^^ (Chapter 82 by the way...)

Solidarity

Four days passed and the weather was just better because it didn´t snow. Apart from that it was still icy and unpleasant and after the collapse of the barn´s roof on the farm, a general depressed mood was reigning over the homestead. We actually had decided to share our supplies from now on, which basically meant that we were helping each other more than usual. But in face of the lost emergency reserves, we had no other choice anyway. Connor went occasionally into the forest and hunted for weak game that probably wouldn´t have made it through the winter anyway. But he never made much prey. He seemed to be really angry about it, but I felt that there was also something else that was bothering him and I was sure, that it was about this rider. The rider, of whom I had shortly thought, that he was Ray. I had a strange feeling about this and was confirmed in it shortly afterwards.

In this night my sleep was more than just troubled. I woke up several times, once because I had certain needs, or because I startled out of confusing dreams and another time because of totally incomprehensible reasons. Every time when I woke up, I needed a while to fall asleep again and I envied Connor, because it seemed like he could sleep like a stone tonight. When I woke up again and stared into the darkness, I had enough. As quiet and carefully as possible, I stood up, slipped into my dressing gown and went downstairs into the kitchen. There I put a jug with water onto the still glowing coals and took a little pouch filled with dried hop from the storage. Dr. White had given it to me as I had told him a while ago, that I wasn´t sleeping well. Brewed and as a tea, the hop had a soothing effect and I relied on it right now. Because if I didn´t sleep for the rest of the night, I certainly wasn´t going to be able to stand up tomorrow.

With a cup of tea in my hand, I went into the parlour, sat down on the rocking chair and wrapped myself into a blanket. Slowly rocking back and forth, I drank the bitter drink in small sips and stared holes into the darkness. My thoughts wanted to wander to all the big and small problems on my mind, but I forbid myself to do so. No wonder that I couldn´t sleep after all this worrying and I should try to concentrate on all the positive things which were happening. Caleb was fine again, we had a safe roof over our heads at least, we were healthy and then there was my pregnancy after all, which made me look happily into the future anyway. So I had enough reasons to be happy and in high spirits, but especially when I thought of Ray, it became difficult.

When I had drunk up, I peeled myself off the blanket, brought the cup back into the kitchen and just wanted to go upstairs again, as Noir´s fevered barking made me stop. It sounded muffled from the stables, where the dog had its sleeping place in an empty box. But what was upsetting her so much?
Insecure I went into the dining room and glanced through the window to the stable. What I saw made me freeze with horror. On the free area in front of the stable, stood a cart. One single oil lamp was hanging at the coach-box and made it possible to see the figure in the cape, tampering with the harness of the horse. The cart itself was packed with something I couldn´t see clearly enough. But I didn´t care anyway.
"Connor!", I shouted in panic and as loud as possible. "Connor!"
I heard how the door upstairs was torn open, then quick steps on the staircase and finally behind me in the room.
"What is it?", Connor asked but seemed to see himself, what was happening in front of the stable. He uttered a curse and ran to the front door. The figure in front of the stable paused shortly, as it heard him coming, leaped onto the horse´s back, which he had freed from the cart and galloped past Connor, who had difficulties in getting forward, thanks to the snow. My husband stood still and stared after the stranger.

I couldn´t stay at the window anymore. I followed Connor´s path through the front door and ignored the sharp coldness outside, as I stumped barefooted through the, for me, knee-high snow to Connor. He had approached the cart by now and whirled around with his fists raised, as he heard my steps.
"Lillian, go inside", he growled as he recognized me, but I ignored him as I could see what was on the cart.
"That´s unbelievable", I whispered. It was packed with sacks, crates and baskets full of food. Corn, vegetables, potatoes, even dried fruits and processed meat. A whole load of food that could certainly bring the whole homestead through the winter.
"That´s a miracle", I murmured, while Connor was taking the lamp from the coach-box and walked around the cart with knitted eyebrows. As if he was searching for some traps, but of course there were none.
"I do not like this", he said nevertheless, opened one of the sacks and let the corn trickle through his fingers. "It is in the depths of winter. Almost nobody has enough supplies to care for himself, but somebody comes here and leaves a cart full of food for the next months? Just like that?"
"Maybe he´s able to afford that, heard about our situation and wanted to help us."
"And for that he comes in the middle of the night, leaves the cart here in secret and disappears when he gets detected?" Connor shook his head. "It must be this stranger we recently met on our way home. Something is wrong."
"Oh, stop that. You can´t expect evil behind everything. Believe just once that somebody is doing something for charity´s sake." Irritated I crossed my arms in front of my chest. I just couldn´t believe that somebody, who was doing such a good deed, had bad intentions. I thought somehow, that the figure in the cape had been Ray and it gave me a bad feeling, but I didn´t want to give up the hope that our concerns about our supplies were going to be a thing of the past.
"Nobody is doing anything just like that", Connor said in a firm voice and turned his gaze to the cart again. "I will bring it into the stable for now and you will go inside in an instant. We can think about this tomorrow."
The conversation was finished with that. Grimly I watched him pulling the cart to the stable from where I could still hear Noir´s barking, before the coldness made me follow his order. After my feet had hurt at first, I didn´t even feel them right now and my teeth were already hurting from their clattering. To stump barefooted through the snow, just wasn´t a good idea.

In the next morning, Connor and I were standing with Father Timothy and Corrine, who had agreed to organize the distribution of the last supplies, around the cart and discussed what we should do with the food. Both of them had the same opinion like me, saying that the stranger had given us a gift, while Connor was still distrustful about everything. For him it was inconceivable that somebody was doing a good deed just like that. He expected some trick behind it, but I really couldn´t believe what this should be.
"We need these supplies", I emphasized repeatedly while I looked into his hardened face. "They are our chance to get through the winter. Furthermore you really can´t demand that we will just leave them here and let them rot."
"And what about the other villages with similar problems? They are starving and we will rest on this...donation?"
A short, depressed silence spread after his question. Of course there were certainly more settlers who were worrying about the shortage of their supplies. But wouldn´t they take this cart, too? What else should happen with it?

"If you want to see the moral aspects, it´s certainly difficult to take these supplies in good conscience", Corrine started. "But think of the children. The little Hunter, the even smaller Will. Then Caleb of course, Ellen´s daughter and Godfrey´s and Terry´s boys. Not to forget your little mite. We have to care about them and this donation came just at the right time for that."
Three pairs of eyes were expectantly turned to the assassin, who was standing there with crossed arms and a motionless expression and stared at the cart. When he raised his eyes, he glanced at me shortly, or rather at my rounded belly. He appeared uncertain but finally pulled away from his tensed posture.
"Good", he said. "Then unload it and decide how you want to distribute everything. The others shall come here and take their share, when you are done."
With these words, he turned around and stumped back to the house. Frowning I looked after him.
"It doesn´t seem like he is pleased by his own decision", Corrine said and when I looked at her, she appeared concerned.
"He will calm himself again." I smiled at her reassuringly and pointed at the cart. "Shall we start?"
Father Timothy, Corrine and I began to unload the food and arranged the crates and sacks in order of their content. Soon it was unmistakable that we really didn´t need to worry about dwindling supplies anymore and we felt a certain euphoria. Where ever the food was coming from, it was exactly what we had needed in our situation and it had come just at the right time. I hoped that Connor was going to see that, too.

"What´s that?"
I just had put a crate with root vegetable to the others, as I heard Father Timothy´s voice behind me. He held a piece of paper in his hand and looked at it with knitted eyebrows.
"A message?", I asked curiously, but the Father shook his head.
"Only numbers and letters. Maybe some sort of inventory list. But I can´t see a pattern in it."
Just when he had mentioned the numbers and letters, I had been seized by a bad feeling and approached him quickly and pulled the paper out of his hand. It was really filled with apparently incoherent characters, but unlike the Father, I could see a pattern in them. While my heart was rushing in utter confusion, I tried to stay calm externally.
"Really seems like it isn´t quite meaningful", I mentioned markedly in passing. "But maybe an inventory list wouldn´t be bad actually. We should list what he have, then we will have a better overview."
As the Father nodded, I went back to the house, claiming that I wanted to get something to write with. The paper still firmly in my hand. My first way led me to the hidden door of the cellar, which was just slightly open. I heard the scraping sound of the grindstone Connor was using to sharpen his weapons, from downstairs. So Connor was busy for now and so I hurried as quiet as possible into the study. There I sat down at the table, grabbed ink and stylograph and began to decode the code, that was still so familiar to me, with shaking hand. I didn´t need much time for it but I read the created words over and over again. Again they made me become helpless in front of my inconsistent feelings. If Connor would read them, he would demonize the cart´s load immediately, but he would also have the realization that Jarvis was my brother and I wouldn´t need to pretend anymore that I didn´t know about it. But what then?
For a while I sat there silently and stared at the written words, struggling with my thoughts. When I had made my decision, I went into the kitchen and threw the letter into the fire of the hearth. Motionlessly I watched how the words were slowly eaten by the flames. But I still could see them clearly in my head.

Family sticks together, little sister.

March 1785

Three months passed, without any more noteworthy events. The whole homestead had been glad about the unexpected blessing of supplies that had taken away all of our concerns and had led us through the winter. I stayed the only person who knew, who had brought it and I didn´t know what to think about it. No matter if he had helped us or not, I doubted that Ray had got the food legally. But when I looked into the happy faces of my friends and their children, I tried to suppress these thoughts. By now I was a master in it anyway.
When the snow began to melt in mid February, it seemed like the whole homestead and the nature would take a deep breath and in the end of March, spring had finally arrived. It was still cold but it was far more pleasant to be outside. The first flowers were timidly stretching their heads out of the ground and the air was filled with the voices of the birds, which had been silent over winter. As often as possible I used little breaks to have short walks through the homestead, to enjoy this newly awakened world. Sometimes I just felt shut in at home and I needed fresh air to breathe. But above all, I wanted to evade Connor.

With the disappearance of the snow, his motivation had returned to chase my brother´s gang. He scarcely spoke about it but he spent much time in the cellar, where he had pinned maps of the surroundings on the wall and had marked every previous whereabouts of the gang. He had made the fort in Boston stand out in particular and sometimes he thought about travelling to it, but above all he wanted to find Ray and as long as he didn´t know where to find him, he didn´t want to set off. I was glad about it because I feared what could happen, if they met each other. Connor had promised me that he wouldn´t harm Ray, if it wasn´t necessary. But who could know what Ray would do? I had the certain feeling that I could lose one of them, or maybe even both and so I just wished that they would never meet each other. But certainly this wish was never going to be fulfilled. Not if Ray kept doing for what I should hate him.

When I returned from one of my walks one evening, I found the door to the cellar open, but because I didn´t hear any sounds, I curiously went downstairs. Connor was standing in front of the wall with the maps, with his back to me and his fists propped up on the table in front of him. His chin was resting on his chest, he was standing there like a statue and he even didn´t move as I walked down the staircase and approached him.
"Connor?"
He winced slightly and glanced at me over his shoulder, before he straightened up and turned to me.
"I am sorry, I did not hear you coming downstairs."
"I can understand that. I´m moving as light-footed as an old nag." It was a pathetic try to be funny, but at least the corners of Connor´s mouth twitched lightly and brightened up his serious expression for a split of a second. But his internal tension was noticeable even from the distance.
"What´s wrong with you?", I asked, took a few more steps towards him and looked at him concerned. Connor pressed his lips together with my question and evaded my gaze for a moment.
"I do not want to worry you", he murmured and my eyebrows rose.
"As if it would reassure me, if you tell me that you don´t want to worry me." I lightly shoved my hand against his chest, so that he looked at me again. "What is it? Did something happen?"
Connor hesitated, before he finally came out with it. "I heard that Jarvis' gang has acted again."
"They attacked another village?" My heart sank with this imagination and I had to suppress the tremble in my hands. I had hoped so much that they had left over the winter months.
"No village." Connor´s face darkened and anger flared up in his brown eyes. "Their attacks were in several districts of Boston They robbed houses, attacked soldiers and even blew up a warehouse at the harbour. Six persons died."
"And they didn´t get caught? What about their fort in the city?"
Connor shook his head. "They already left it long ago and nobody is able to pick up their trail. Some people even say that were like ghosts, but ghosts who want to deliver a message."
"What kind of message?"
"Nobody knows. They never say it, but now they are openly mentioning the name Raymond Jarvis. He and his men are adhering to their crimes and nevertheless, nobody is able to get hold of them."

Connor´s gaze was turned to a spot over my head and it looked like he would see the evil itself there. He was angry and I understood why. It seemed like Ray´s gang was getting out of control and so did my brother. Never before people had died during their attacks, but now they had risked it on purpose. What kind of man had my brother become? And what kind of person was I, that I still couldn´t hate him? Why couldn´t I finally realize that my hope, that Ray hadn´t changed that much, was just childish and naive? Why couldn´t I allow Connor to take care of him?
Because he´s still your brother and you love him.
As I took a shaking breath and had to suppress a sob shortly afterwards, Connor looked at me again.
"Lillian, I am sorry. I really did not want you to..."
I raised a hand and shook my head. "It´s alright", I whispered and tried to smile. "I wanted to know it."
"But I should have considered that it still could be your brother we are talking about." Connor grabbed my hands and ran his thumbs over their backs. "I know that you think that it is not him and in face of the current events, you should stick to it. You know your brother better and when you say that he is not a cruel man, you should not give up this thought."
I swallowed heavily and couldn´t look into his eyes. He was encouraging me to stick to hopes he wasn´t sharing and which had left me long since anyway. Slowly I shook my head.
"Connor, I...I know..." I faltered and closed my eyes for a moment to order my thoughts. To search for the right words. "I know that it´s him. I know...that my brother is the leader."
I looked at Connor again and saw confusion in his eyes. Then something like distrust and it let my heart sink again.
"How do you know that? Why do you think that so all of the sudden?", he asked slowly. "You were so convinced of the opposite."
"I know", I said quietly and lowered my eyes again. "But I thought about it and everything is so obvious."

Connor didn´t say anything about it because basically I had told him what he had already known. I didn´t dare to look at him. I had evaded him again and hadn´t told him the whole truth. I felt more than uneasy in this situation and so I did the only thing I was able to do right now. I fled. Like a coward.
Carefully I freed my hands from his grip and raised my eyes only shortly to murmur: "I´m tired and will go to bed. If Caleb and you want something to eat...you know where everything is."
I barely noticed Connor´s short nod because I had turned away already and went upstairs. In the bedroom I got changed, closed the curtains and went to bed. I was really tired but in face of my rushing thoughts, I couldn´t fall asleep. Furthermore the child in my belly made itself felt, now that I was coming to rest. It was wriggling as if it wanted me to lull it to sleep again with my own movements. So I lay in the semi-darkness with open eyes, caressing my belly and watching how it became darker around me and listened to the noises in the house. I could hear the muffled voices of Caleb and Connor from the kitchen, then eventually Caleb´s stumping steps on the staircase and the closing of his room door. Connor´s steps soon sounded on the hallway and because I had turned my back to the door, I just heard it open and close.

I heard how Connor slipped out of his clothes and put them on the chair by the washstand, probably as tidily folded as always. The mattress yielded as he lay down and a cold breeze brushed my back when he lifted the blanket and slipped underneath it. He moved closer to me and I winced lightly as he stroked my hair aside and kissed my nape.
"Can you not sleep? Do you think about your brother?", Connor asked quietly and I didn´t even asked myself, how he knew that I was still awake.
"No", I answered shortly and tried to ignore his last question. "I think the baby doesn´t want it."
I felt Connor´s breath in my nape as he chuckled and I shivered involuntarily.
"May I?", he asked and wordlessly I felt for his hand and laid it on my belly. It seemed like this touch was the cue for the child. As soon as Connor´s hand was laying on my belly, it struck against the abdominal wall and made its father laugh. A week ago it had made itself felt noticeably for the first time and especially for Connor, it had been a special moment. Over months he had only seen my belly grow, but to finally feel our child had made him beam with joy. Sometimes I hadn´t got his hands away from my belly. Also now he seemed to be entirely happy to be in contact with the little thing under my heart and I believed that it felt the same.

"Ouch", I uttered as the baby kicked into my kidneys and Connor pulled his hand away.
"Does it hurt?", he asked appalled but I shook my head.
"Not so badly. Sometimes it´s just a bit unpleasant. I think sometimes it´s obvious who the father is."
"Why?"
"Because I have the feeling that it considers my organs to be templars and wants to fight them with kicks and strikes. Like its assassin daddy."
"Fighting spirit is always a good thing", Connor smirked and I could really hear his fatherly pride.
I rolled my eyes and snorted. "Not if my inside is the enemy."
Connor carefully laid his arm around my hips and turned me on my back. Confused I looked at him but he moved a bit downwards and I held my breath, as he laid his head on my chest and tenderly caressed my belly. In a gentle voice he said something in Mohawk and stayed like this for a moment, entirely silent. He could certainly hear my rushing heartbeat, but I enjoyed his touch and not only I did. Whatever Connor had said, the baby only kicked against my abdominal wall one last time, before it came to rest.
"What did you say?", I asked and Connor sat up, just to lay down next to me again.
"I told it that its mother needs to sleep to keep her strength, so that she can give birth to it."
He tenderly kissed my forehead and as I turned on my side and curled up a bit, he laid an arm around my hips and leaned his chin against my head. I felt his heartbeat against my back and was shrouded in his scent and his warmth I loved so much. But I wasn´t entirely able to enjoy his closeness. The whole time I thought of how happy he was, although he was holding a cowardly liar in his arms.