Land of the Free (28 page)

“I was granting him
permission to retrieve his weapon,” Yank said. He flicked Percy’s
cheek with the tip of his blade and backed away.

Percy’s hand went to his
bleeding cheek. He looked at the blood on his fingers, then at the
sword on the ground and finally at his bloody right hand. “My
apologies, Colonel. I resign.”

Yank walked closer. “If you
so much look at my wife or speak of her again I’ll make you eat
your own guts, boy. I have only a limited amount of charity within
me, and you have just used it up.”

January 2, 1806

New York Harbor, New
York

Lieutenant Alexander Percy
saluted with his bandaged hand and waited for Yank to return the
salute before walking on down the pier.

“Did you do that to his
face?” Marina asked, trying to keep her voice normal as she watched
Percy.

“
Yes, and I did him a
great favor,” Yank chuckled. “He was much too pretty. Nothing like
a saber scar to add character to a young man’s face.”

“Unless it might be a broken
nose,” she laughed and pulled her attention back to her husband. “I
pray that we are not traveling aboard Captain Percy’s
ship.”

“No. He’s bound for Hampton
Roads where his vessel is to be altered from a schooner into a
Brig.” He pointed. “This is our ship.”

“This big ship?”

“Yes.” He gave her a
questioning look. “Is something wrong?”

“Only that it seems too big
for the Hudson.”

“She’s double hulled to
break ice. But she’ll only take us as far as Albany where we will
board a smaller vessel to Schenectady.”

“I see.” She was once again
watching Percy who was standing with some other officers near the
end of the pier.

“From there we will travel
by Durham boat until we reach Oswego where we will travel by
schooner on Lake Ontario,” Yank said, pretending not to notice her
flagging attention. “Do you want to know the rest?”

“What?” She turned back to
Yank. “Oh no. Not now. What are we waiting for?”

“My grandmother. She wanted
to see us off.”

“Uh.” Marina made a face.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

“About my
grandmother?”

“Yes. We didn’t part in New
York on perfectly friendly terms.”

“Are you still angry with
her?”

“It was she who was angry at
me.”

“Oh if that is the case,
don’t worry. She never stays angry.”

“We shall presently see.”
Marina pointed. “That’s her carriage.”

The carriage had no sooner
stopped when Rachael Van Buskirk reached impatiently through the
window to unlatch the door. The moment that the footman dropped the
step, she bounded down like a woman half her age. “I am so sorry to
be late.” She kissed Marina on both cheeks then Yank. “Something
about a horseshoe. Or was it a nail?” She shook her head. “I dare
say I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I told you,” Yank said to
Marina.

“You told her what?” Rachael
asked.

“That you would have a good
reason for being late,” Marina said. “I’m happy to see you again,
Grandmother.”

“As am I to see you.”
Rachael had spotted Lieutenant Percy. “Oh dear. How embarrassing.
I’m told that he has a new scar or two.”

“You are too well informed
as usual, Grandmother,” Yank chuckled and turned to Marina. “When I
was a boy, I thought she could read minds.”

“Who says that I cannot,”
Rachael replied. She put her hand on Yank’s arm and her face became
serious. “I thought that I should tell you, on behalf of our
family, that you handled that situation with Lieutenant Percy very
well. It was my fault that it reached the point that it did. Marina
refused to see him when he called but I, being more sociable than
sensible, received him.”

“There is no harm done,”
Yank replied. “David tells me that Percy’s a fine officer. I
suspect that the boy’s pride and his very minor wounds will have
healed by the time his ship is refitted.” He looked toward her
carriage. “Have you changed your mind about accompanying us to
Albany?”

She turned to follow his
gaze. “No. Albany is too cold and I’ve seen the Hudson many times.
Why do you ask?”

“The luggage.”

“Oh. The luggage is for an
extended trip to New Jersey where I plan to help Nannette spoil
your children.”

“Please try to make your son
visit a doctor while you are there,” Marina suggested. “His leg is
much worse.”

“Thomas has never taken
advice from me,” Rachael grumbled. “Or from anyone else. Except his
father, perhaps.”

“It’s too cold for you here,
Grandmother,” Yank said. “Let me walk you to your carriage.” He
took her arm. “Thank you for coming to see us off.”

“Wait a moment.” Rachael
extracted her arm. “I didn’t come only to see you off; I wanted to
give something to Marina.” She took a small, velvet covered jewelry
box from her pocket. “John commissioned Paul Revere to make this
for Anna.”

Marina opened the box and
gasped. “Why, it’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.” She
looked at Yank.

“I’ve never seen it before,”
Yank said.

Rachael smiled. “Mr. Revere
started on it early in the war but didn’t finish it until after.
I’ve been saving it for Anna’s granddaughter.” She patted Marina’s
hand. “Now you must keep it for her.”

January 3, 1806

The Hudson River, New
York

Marina awoke in a panic. The
ship was filled with a groaning sound and moving oddly.

“It’s alright,” Yank said.
He was standing near the small porthole.

“What’s that
sound?”

“We’re nipped.”

“What?”

“We’re stuck fast in the
ice. The sound’s caused by the pressure of the ice against our
hull.”

“Will it crush
us?”

“No.”

She climbed off the berth,
dragging a blanket with her, and padded to the porthole to peek
out. “Why, look at that. We’re practically on land.”

“Yes. There’s nothing to
fear. If necessary we could walk across the ice on planks or be
pulled on sleds to wait for the company coaches to retrieve
us.”

“I had better get
dressed.”

“When the sun gets up a
little higher they’ll start breaking the ice and we’ll be underway
again.”

“I’d rather have my clothes
on in any event.”

“I rather prefer you wrapped
in a blanket.”

“I’m glad you mentioned
that.”

“What?”

“Being wrapped in a blanket.
Your Shawnee friends may be put off if I’m wearing European
clothes.”

“Many of the Shawnee women
wear European clothing.”

“The significant women will
be dressed traditionally.”

“Well, if you think it’s
important, we can buy a buckskin dress for you in
Oswego.”

“It’s important to your
status in the tribe.”

He watched her a moment.
“I’m going up on deck to check on the status of the
ice.”

“Wait.”

He stopped.

“Do you have questions for
me?” she asked.

“No.”

“I can feel the barrier
between us. What must I do?”

“Give it time.”

“Perhaps we should talk
about it.”

He shook his head. “Some
things are better left unsaid.”

February 12,
1806

Ohio Country

Marina’s horse stumbled and
sent her sprawling into the snow.

Yank slid off his horse and
waded through the deep drifts to help her up. “Are you all right?”
he shouted over the wind.

“Only my pride is injured.”
Her voice was nearly lost in the shrill howl of the
blizzard.

He began brushing the snow
off her. “We have to build a shelter.”

“I’m fine.
Really.”

“But the horses aren’t.
They’re too cold.”

“I’ve seen horses on the
open range survive with no ill effects after being covered with
ice.”

“Stop arguing with me. The
blankets and saddles defeat the insulation of their fur. We have to
unsaddle them and curry their hair or they’ll freeze.”

She turned her back to the
wind. “That waterfall we just passed probably had a cave behind
it.”

“Too cold. We’ll build a
snow shelter on the leeward side of that high drift. It’s probably
a deadfall.” He began leading the horses toward the drift and
leaned closer to shout in her ear. “If the tree isn’t too old the
snow will have built up on the branches and it’ll be hollow inside.
If not, we’ll dig under it.”

She didn’t answer until they
reached the mound of snow. “Do we have anything to dig with or do
we use our hands?”

“There’s an entrenching tool
in my pack.”

“Get it for me and I’ll dig
while you unsaddle the horses.”

“No. You need to start
brushing your horse as soon as I take the saddle and blanket
off.”

“Do you have two
brushes?”

“I have a brush and a
currycomb. We’ll need to use both to get their hair un-matted. I’ll
show you.”

“It’s cold.”

“I noticed.”

It took half an hour to
curry and brush the horses to Yank’s satisfaction, then he dug a
hole in the snow-covered deadfall and tossed their saddles and gear
inside the hollow space. “Crawl in, Marina but don’t get under the
trunk. It could fall from the weight of the snow.”

“Oh that sounds interesting.
Are you sure we wouldn’t be better off behind the
waterfall?”

“Yes, I’m very sure. Get in
there.” She crawled in and he followed her, closing the entrance
with a horse blanket tied to tree branches. “Help me push the
saddles up under the trunk so that it can’t fall on us.”

“The pine needles are still
green. This tree just fell recently.”

“That’s no guarantee that
the branches holding up the trunk won’t suddenly
collapse.”

She crawled up beside him
and helped wedge the saddles under the tree trunk. “I gather you’ve
done this before,” she grunted.

“Yes, but this is the first
time I’ve had to make one big enough for two.”

They worked for some time,
scooping out a depression and lining it with pine boughs until
Marina suddenly stopped. “Did you hear that?”

“Yes.”

“What was it?”

“Wolves.”

“Wolves?”

“Yes. They’ve been following
us for a while.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry. The horses
aren’t tied or hobbled. They should be able to fight off a small
pack.”

“I was thinking about us,
not the horses.”

“A few of the braver wolves
might snuffle around and dig at the snow but they won’t come
inside.”

“Why won’t they?”

“I don’t know why, I just
know they won’t.”

She was quite for a few
seconds. “And the horses?”

“I thought you weren’t
worried about the horses.”

“I changed my mind. You said
that they could fight off a small pack.”

“That isn’t exactly what I
said.”

She shook her head. “Don’t
start arguing semantics with me now.”

He shrugged.

“What about a large
pack?”

He shrugged
again.

“And if the horses aren’t
tied or hobbled won’t they run away?”

“They might, but they’ll be
easy to track in the snow.”

“Are you listening to what
you’re saying, John?”

He stopped packing snow and
looked at her. “What do you want from me, Marina? If I tied or
hobbled the horses the wolves would get them for sure. This way we
have a chance that we’ll have one or both horses to ride
tomorrow.”

“In other words you’ve just
left everything up to fate.”

“I think God did that when
he sent this blizzard. All I’m doing is the best I can do to keep
us alive. Are you going to help me with this, or not?” He went back
to packing snow.

She bent down to help. “Why
didn’t you share any of this wisdom with us when we were freezing
on the Llano Estacado?”

“Keeping everyone moving was
the right thing to do then and that’s what I did. This is the right
thing to do now.”

She shivered as a wolf
howled nearby and another answered. “I intend to sleep with my
pistol cocked.”

“If that makes you feel
better, go ahead. But it’s probably too cold to fire.”

February 14,
1806

Ohio Country

When Yank broke out of the
snow shelter, the world was blazing white beneath a bright sun and
a clear blue sky.