Shattered Moments (20 page)

Kit paced the tiny space, unable to settle down.  The cell was airless, stinking of piss, feces, and fear.  Not so long ago Louisa had been locked up in here, and now it was his turn.  All he could do was take three steps in either direction, but it didn’t stop him from walking, desperate for something to do other than sit on the hard bench.  He’d tried to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw the bloated and bloody face of Deverell.  Now it was probably midmorning, judging by the position of the sun and the increasing heat inside the cell.  A guard had brought him some bread and ale for breakfast, but shrugged in ignorance when Kit asked him about the trial. 

Would Sir George even bother to try and discover what happened,
or was he going to persecute Kit to the full extent of the law based on Annabel’s testimony?  He had to admit that he never particularly cared for Annabel.  She was vain and foolish, always deferring to Charles, especially when it suited her own interests.  What could she possibly gain by having Kit executed?  Kit turned on his heel and began pacing again, three steps there and three steps back.  The guard brought his midday meal and then his supper, but still Kit paced, unable to rest, unable to stop thinking.  His head ached, and his shoulders and neck were stiff with tension, but still he couldn’t rest. 

He had exhausted himself by the time he heard the key in the lock and Louisa stepped into the cell, her nose wrinkling in disgust at the smell, or maybe at the sight of him.  The guard shut the door behind her, leaving them alone.
  The sun had set some time ago, allowing the cell to cool marginally and plunging it into darkness. Louisa’s features were swallowed by the shadows as she stepped forward, holding out a basket containing food and a clean shirt. 

“I’ve been to see Sir George,” Louisa said
as she watched him warily.  “He forbade me to see you.”

“So, how did you…?”

“I bribed the guard.  He’s a nice boy, and his mother is ill.  A sack of tobacco can go a long way to make things easier for them.”  Her voice was flat and emotionless.  Had she given up on him already?

“Lou, I didn’t do it
; I swear I didn’t.  I can’t remember much of that night, but I was so drunk I could barely stand, much less walk to Jamestown, beat a man to death, and drag him to the docks.  You’ve got to believe me,” he pleaded with her, his stomach twisting into knots at the look on her face.  Did she despise him for what he’d done? 

“Kit, I know you didn’t do it,” she said quietly, “but we need to prove that to Sir George.  Can you think of anyone who might have seen you that evening?  Is there any proof that you never came to Jamestown?”

Kit just shook his head.  “I was in the barn, so unless they can get the cows to testify, I’m doomed,” he said with a sad smile.  “Lou, do you despise me?” he blurted out.

“I could never despise you.  Kit, I can’t begin to
understand the way I feel right now, and that will all have to wait until after the trial, but right now we need to prove your innocence, and I need all the help I can get.  What do you know of Deverell?  Did he have any particular enemies at Court?  Is there anyone here who might wish him harm?”

“I don’t know.  I barely knew the man, but I know Buckingham didn’t like him.”  Kit nearly bit his tongue as he saw the look of revulsion on Louisa’s face.  Mentioning Buckingham had been a mistake.

“Buckingham is a shrewd man.  If he didn’t like Deverell, he must have had his reasons.  Maybe he was trying to blackmail him as well,” Louisa speculated as she looked at Kit with some hope.

Kit let out a bitter laugh.  “If Deverell tried to blackmail Buckingham, he would have been swimming in the Thames long before he ever made it to Virginia.  Buckingham didn’t play games with his enemies
; he destroyed them.”  In more ways than one, Kit thought bitterly, watching his wife.

“What did he want from you, Kit?”

“Money, of course.  He wanted me to buy him a plantation, and I’m sure he wouldn’t have stopped there.  He thought he had me over a barrel.”

Louisa chose not to point
out that he had.  Deverell had the power to destroy Kit, and Kit knew it.  Had he told anyone else what he knew or had the secret died with him?  She would go see Mrs. Deverell under the pretense of a condolence visit.  Maybe she could learn something from her.  Louisa felt a surge of hope as she thought of doing something to help Kit.  She’d conduct her own investigation.

“Lou, how much did Annabel actually overhear?”

“Just the threat, I think.  Had she heard more, she’d be cawing about it from every rooftop in Jamestown.  It would be too good to keep to herself.”  Kit just nodded.  At least that was a blessing.

“Lou, will you come back to see me before the trial?” he asked, his voice breaking. 

“I’ll try.  I think it’s best if I don’t incense Sir George right before the trial.  Kit, I won’t let them hang you.  I won’t,” she said fiercely, finally leaving her spot by the door and pulling him into a hug.  Kit’s arms went around her, his head dropping to her shoulder as she stroked his hair and kissed his forehead.  “I won’t let them hang you,” she whispered again.

August 1779

North Carolina

Finn made his way through the clearing, weaving between canvas tents that reminded him of Indian wigwams.  The night was lit up by dozens of campfires, the dark silhouettes of men just visible as the firelight illuminated their faces.  Some were talking softly, some laughing at a bawdy joke, and others just staring into the flames, their faces creased with fatigue and loneliness.  Finn could hear the restless neighing of horses and the occasional click of metal as someone unbuckled a belt or cleaned their musket, but otherwise the camp was unusually quiet, the atmosphere strangely subdued.  

He hadn’t planned on coming this way, but he wanted to see Jonah and bring word home that he was all right.  Jonah had written only one letter in the past few months, asking after everyone and assuring his parents
that he was well, but Mrs. Mallory was sick with worry, certain that her son wasn’t telling the truth.  Finn missed Jonah more than he cared to admit.  Sam and Jonah were the closest thing he had to brothers, and whereas Sam seemed to have the proverbial nine lives, Jonah wasn’t as lucky or as resourceful.  If Mrs. Mallory was worried, she likely had good reason and would welcome any news he could bring her.

It took
Finn the better part of an hour to finally locate Jonah’s tent since it was situated on the outskirts of the camp, closer to the woods.  Finn almost didn’t recognize him at first.  Jonah had always been lean, but now he was whippet-thin, his lean cheeks covered by a thick beard that made him look ten years older, his skin waxy in the light of the fire that was burning low, its flames reflecting in Jonah’s fixed gaze. 

“Finn!  What a surprise
!” Jonah exclaimed, as he invited Finn to sit down and held out a cup of strong tea that was bitter and lukewarm.  Finn took a sip, grimaced and set the cup down.  “I’m so happy to see you, Finn.  How’s everyone?  Did Susanna have the baby?”

“Not as far as I know.  Everyone is well
, and they miss you.  Your mother is frantic since she hasn’t had a letter from you in months.”  Finn didn’t mean to sound accusing, but Jonah seemed well able to write, and months without word was torture for people back home.

“I miss them too,” Jonah sighed and took a sip of tea,
seemingly oblivious to the bitterness.  “I’m so sick of this war, Finn; I just want to go home.  Sometimes I dream of being at home and I’m so happy, then I wake up and I’m in some godforsaken place: cold, hungry, and dirty.  It seems as if it will never end.”

“You couldn’t wait to join up, remember?” Finn asked, smiling at Jonah.  He had been so young and idealistic then, so eager to fight for his beliefs.
  The illusions had been stripped away, replaced by the grim reality of war and the senseless carnage that never seemed to end.

“Yes, I remember.  I didn’t think it would go on for years, did I?  There’s no end in sight, and no guarantee of victory.”

Finn desperately wanted to tell Jonah that the rebels would win the war and that it would end in 1781, but he couldn’t, not without having a lot of explaining to do.  The final battle of Yorktown would be fought mere miles from the Mallory farm, finally forcing the British to admit defeat and return home in disgrace.

“It will end, Jonah
; you’ll see.  It won’t be long now.”

“I don’t know, Finn
; we seem to have reached a stalemate.  We win one, they win one, and nothing really changes except that more people die on both sides,” Jonah replied with disgust.

“You just stay safe and don’t do anything foolish,” Finn admonished as he watched Jonah over the fire.

“
Speaking of foolish, where have you been?” Jonah asked, setting his cup down and gazing into the flames.

“I was in
Savannah.  All was going smoothly until I ran into Weland.”

“No kidding,” Jonah exclaimed, gaping at Finn.  “
Did he recognize you?

“He sure did.  He gave chase and called for reinforcements that had me cornered in a cellar.”

“How did you get away?”  Jonah perked up a bit, eager to hear the story.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so I won’t.  A lovely girl helped me.” 

“Ah, what I wouldn’t do for a lovely girl,” Jonah replied, clapping Finn on the shoulder.

“You have one waiting for you at home.”

“Oh?”

“Remember Diana Littleton?  Well, she showed up out of the blue
—
with her son.  He’s yours, or so she claims.”  Finn watched a series of emotions play out over Jonah’s face, the most obvious being disbelief. 

“How old is he?” Jonah finally asked.

“About a year and a half.  Sweet lad with those gray Mallory eyes.  He looks just like Sam.  So, are you going to make an honest woman of her?”

Jonah just shook his head, staring into the flames again, his shoulders slumped.  This was obviously unwelcome news and Finn was almost sorry he’d said anything.  Jonah looked as if he were about to cry.

“What it is?” Finn asked, sensing some inner battle raging inside of Jonah.  “What’s wrong?”

Jonah scratched his bearded jaw; his eyes clouded by indecision, but then turned to Finn, ready to tell the truth.  “Finn, I met Diana while I was stationed in New York, but I never slept with her, not once.  I was supposed to put her in touch with Sam since she was willing to pass on information she
learned from her clients, but I was never one of them.  Whores are not really my thing, you know?  Her son can’t possibly be mine.” 

Finn’s mouth opened in astonishment, the meaning of Jonah’s words sinking in.  If
Jonah hadn’t fathered Nathaniel, he could only be Sam’s.  So, why would Diana say that the child was Jonah’s?  And then Finn understood.  He’d been the first one to see Diana, to tell her of Sam’s marriage and coming child.  Diana didn’t want to ruin Sam’s life, but it was too late to turn back, so she improvised, telling a lie that would take care of her immediate problem, but knowing that eventually the truth would come out anyway.

“Susanna will be devastated if she ever finds out,” Jonah said.  “It was before her, but no woman wants to come face to face with her predecessor, especially one with a child.  What is Diana going to do, do you think?” Jonah asked.

“I think she hopes you might see her dilemma and keep silent, but your parents will expect you to marry her for the sake of Nathaniel.  You’re in a real bind, my friend.” 

“I can’t marry her, Finn.  Sam’s going to have to clean up his own mess this time.  I won’t say a word to Susanna, but I will have a conversation with Sam once I get back.  I won’t be roped into this.”  Jonah spoke softly, but there was a stubborn set to his jaw
, and his shoulders were tense as he rested his elbows on his knees. 

“I’ll talk to Sam once I get back. 
You look like hell, by the way,” Finn observed as he studied Jonah.  Jonah tossed another log on the fire and poked it with a stick until the flames rose higher, filling the night with a shower of sparks.

“I’m lucky to be alive, Finn,” Jonah said quietly.  “I didn’t write because I couldn’t.  I was at the battle of Brier Creek.”  Finn looked up in surprise.  Everyone had heard of the disaster at Brier Creek, and it was said that the defeat was a major setback which could cost Americans the war.  Some blamed General Ashe for poor strategy and lack of foresight, but Finn thought that was unfair.  Battles were won and lost all the time, and Brier Creek came on the heels of a major victory at
Kettle Creek which raised morale for a short time, but that was months ago.  The battle had been fought in the beginning of March, and now it was July. 

“Jonah, what happened?”

Jonah just shrugged and looked away for a moment before finally turning to meet Finn’s eyes. “It was a massacre, Finn; pure and simple.  The British suffered hardly any losses, while the Americans were slaughtered.  It wasn’t even the battle itself, it was the aftermath.  We had our backs to the creek and swampland and surrounded by the British.  The patriot forces consisted mainly of North Carolina and Georgia militias, and several Continental Army units under Samuel Elbert.  Some of the militiamen ran without even firing a shot, and many took to the Savannah River and the swamps once they sensed defeat.  There’s no saying how many people drowned that day.”

“And you?” Finn asked softly, sensing Jonah’s need to talk.

“There was complete chaos, so a few of us tried to flee through the swamps and regroup on the other side.  That was the plan at least, but it didn’t work out that way. Two men drowned in the swamp within the first several minutes.  I watched them get swallowed up by the mire, screaming for help until the last second, still hoping to be saved.” 

Jonah’s voice cracked as he remembered those awful moments.  “They were just boys, Finn, no older than seventeen.  I wanted to go back, but someone held me back.  Those men were lost
, and we had to help ourselves.  I don’t remember how many hours we spent wading through the swamps; it felt like days, and maybe it was.  Only two of us made it to the other side.  We were soaked, exhausted, and chilled to the bone.  There was nothing to start a fire with, so we just tried to cover ourselves with old leaves while we slept, hoping we wouldn’t freeze to death.  I’d never been so cold and hungry in my whole life.”  Jonah’s voice was flat as he spoke, a faraway look in his eyes. 

“Were you able to rejoin the Continental Army?” Finn asked, already guessing at the answer.

“No.  We started walking after we rested, but we were hungry and fevered; we had no strength to walk all that way.  Captain Lee, whom I was with, could barely stand, so we had to rest every few minutes.  It was so cold, Finn, and our uniforms were still wet and clinging to our skin.  My teeth were chattering so bad I thought my jaw would break.”

“What happened then?”

“I don’t know.  I must have lost consciousness, because when I woke up I was in a farmhouse, stripped to nothing, and sitting in front of a roaring fire wrapped in a blanket.  A woman found us by the side of the road and brought us home.  I was so delirious I didn’t even ask after Captain Lee for several days.  I kept slipping in and out of consciousness, and she just tended to me day and night, feeding me beef tea and putting cold compresses on my forehead.”  Jonah poured another cup of bitter tea for both of them and took a sip.  The night around them was warm, but he shivered, cradling the cup as if her was still freezing in that swamp.

“Captain Lee died two days after Augusta
found us, but I managed to survive.  It took nearly a month until I was finally feeling better and ready to leave; that’s when I wrote the letter to my parents.  It was a few days later that the malaria set in.  Augusta said that it took weeks to manifest itself and that I must have contracted it in the swamp.  I thought I was going to die, Finn.  I had fever and chills; my head hurt like it was going to split open, and there were periods of time when I couldn’t see.  I couldn’t keep anything down, not even broth.”

“She nursed you?” Finn asked.

“She did.  She made decoctions of holy basil leaves, and something with honey and pepper, which tasted awful, but seemed to help.  It took me several months to recover fully, and then I just stayed for a while and helped her tend the farm.  The army thought me dead, so I decided not to rush back.”  Jonah smiled for the first time since beginning his story, the boy Finn had known suddenly there again beneath the shaggy beard and the pallor. 

“And Augusta?”

“Augusta was a godsend.  I would have died had it not been for her.  Helping her on the farm was the least I could do.  Her husband died a few years back, leaving her with two small children,” Jonah added by way of explanation.  “I’m going back there as soon as I can.”

“You love her, don’t you?” Finn asked, smiling at Jonah.  He’d never met Augusta, but he wished he could express his gratitude to her for saving Jonah. 

“I do,” said Jonah with a huge grin. “She’s a few years older than I, but it doesn’t matter.”

“I’d love to meet her.”

“Oh, you will,” Jonah supplied.  “I married her before I left, so I’ll be bringing her and the children to meet the family after the baby is born.”  He seemed a little defiant for a moment, but Finn just clapped him on the shoulder.

“Congratulations.  I’m happy for you.”  Finn rose to his feet and looked down at Jonah.  “I need to get some sleep; I have a long walk tomorrow.  Should I tell them back home that you’re married
and a father of two, soon to be three?”

Jonah chuckled. 
“No, just tell them I’m well.  I’ll tell them the rest myself.”