7

“You need to stay here, and stay silent.” Joseph tucked the saddle blanket around his son. In a dark corner, squeezed between a manger and the wall, James would remain out of sight and safe…so long as the barn wasn’t set to fire.

“No leave, Papa!” James grabbed his leg when he started to stand.

Joseph crouched back down and gripped his son. Oh, God, how can I do this? How could he leave his child here with nothing more than a prayer? “I won’t be far. Papa needs to chase the raiders away, and then I’ll be back for you. I promise.” A promise he was wrong to make. He’d never felt more sure of that. He fished Grandfather Garnet’s gold timepiece from his pocket and pushed it into his son’s hands. “You hold this for Papa, all right. But you have to stay quiet. Keep quiet so Papa can keep you safe.”

And alive.

The little boy whimpered, but his protests ended.

“I’ll be right back for you.” Joseph tucked the blanket back over his head and kissed his brow. “Papa loves you.” He smoothed his hand over the boy’s tousled hair. Hopefully his son would survive and remember that much.

By the time Joseph reached the barn door, the raiding party had moved their mounts to the edge of the field, just beyond the reach of the woods. Five warriors−their skin painted in reds and blacks, foreheads shaved high, hair pulled back with feathers and other ornamentation−evoked sufficient horror, but undoubtedly more hid out of sight, bows taut, muskets loaded.

He was weaponless. All these years of training himself to never leave the cabin without a weapon, and yet his pistol remained where he’d set it on the table. Thanks to Hannah Cunningham. He hadn’t been able to think straight since learning her identity. Joseph glanced back inside the barn. He didn’t have many options.

The door to the cabin creaked open, and Hannah strode across the yard toward the fields, her black hair wild past her shoulders as she pulled the last of the pins from it. Fannie’s gown swooshed around her legs with each step.

Joseph’s chest clenched. His mind screamed to grab her out of harm’s way, but he held himself at bay. These were her people. They would take her north with them to where she belonged.

Would they then be appeased? Or would they seek retribution as well?

He had to get to the cabin. He was of no use to anyone out here. But he would be an easy target without some form of cover.

Hannah paused as she passed the barn, and glanced back.

Or a hostage.

Her gaze froze on his, and he motioned to her. She shook her head.

“Hannah.”

“I can’t.” She turned away.

Couldn’t what? Help them? Not that he deserved her mercy or assistance, but no one else had done anything against her.

He couldn’t let everyone he held dear suffer because of his mistakes. Four long strides, and Joseph wrapped her in his arms. Keeping his profile low, he lifted her feet off the ground and hauled her backwards with him. An arrow swooshed past his ear and sank into the wood of the barn door beside the last one. Inside, he loosened his grip on Hannah only to get his chest smacked.

She tried to shove him back, but he wouldn’t budge.

“What are you doing?” She hit him again.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to save you and−” Her eyes widened and her head jerked from right to left, searching the shadows. Color drained from her face as it took on a look of terror.

“I told James to hide.”

Air whooshed from her lungs and she slapped her palm against his chest again. “Do you have any idea…?” She struggled against his hold. “Let me go.”

“Not until you help save my family.”

A spark lit in her eyes. “Don’t you think I’m trying to?” Her chin tipped up, and sharp pain bit his shin. Twisting away, she rushed the door.

He grabbed her arm.

“You are only making it worse.”

Her words stung even more than her kick. What if he was putting his family at greater risk by trying to keep her here? Maybe their best hope was to trust her. “All right.” He let go.

She stepped into the doorway. “I remember your mama when she was sick, sitting in her rocking chair at the front of the cabin so she could read her Bible in the sunlight. Your Pa was a believing man, too.” Hannah glanced back, her large eyes seeming darker. “I don’t know anything about your God, but perhaps you should pray.” She stepped out from the protection of the barn. Hem lifted, she strode toward the war-painted Mohawks.

His heart thudded and squeezed so tight he could scarce take a breath. A whimpering cry pulled him to where James huddled, tear stains streaking his full cheeks. “Come here,” Joseph whispered. He folded his arms around his little son and bowed his head. “We need to ask God for help.” They would soon know with certainly if He took any interest in their lives.

~*~

Hannah could hardly hear past the rush of her pulse in her ears. She wasn’t concerned with her own safety. Her cousin’s large bay pawed the soft field. She tucked her hair behind her ears and jogged across the deep ruts.

“You did not stay where I told you.” Speaking in Kanien’kéha, he motioned to the mare he had given her to ride, now with one of the other braves astride.

“I am sorry,” she answered in her mother’s tongue.

“And these men took you?” He aimed a glare at the barn and cabin, his expression fierce under onegonsera, the crimson painted across his eyes and forehead.

“They were trying to help me.” Perhaps not the full truth, but not a lie either. “They can help me find my brothers.”

“No.” He extended his hand. “You will come now. We go.”

Hannah only took one step. “But…” Joseph had given her no answer about whether he would help her, but she still believed he could.

“They hate you like they hate us. You are not safe here.”

And yet, strangely, that was the one thing she felt sure of. She was safe. “I need to find my brothers.”

He glared. It did not seem to matter to him that they’d had no choice but to join the Continental Army. “I will seek them.”

“No.” That wouldn’t work. Couldn’t work. Where would they even start looking? How many farms would burn, and people would die before they found any answers? They couldn’t walk into one of the forts or settlements and simply ask about her brothers. If anything, Otetiani would only place her brothers in more danger. “I want to stay here. Joseph Garnet has promised to help me. You must leave his home and fields alone so he can do so without fear.” Please.

Jaw strung tight, Otetiani looked out across the acres of clearing to the homestead. “This Joseph Garnet is a man of honor?”

“Yes.” At least his father had been.

“Then I will speak with him.”

Hannah froze. Did she trust her cousin with Joseph’s life? “No.”

He crossed his arms, a smug look on his face. “I will not leave you here until I have spoken with this man.”

No other choice remained then, except to leave with him. She couldn’t do that. “As you wish.” Hannah turned back to the barn.

Joseph’s tall frame filled the doorway.

He would probably never agree to her cousin’s request. Still, she had to ask, and hope all this could be resolved without anyone dying.

Joseph frowned as she drew near. “What did he say?”

“He wants to speak with you.” At Joseph’s rippled brow, she sneaked a breath and rushed on. “I told him you promised to help find my brothers, but he says he will not leave me here until he has spoken with you.”

“You really believe he plans on talking, or does he merely want an easy scalp?”

“He asked if you were a man of honor. My cousin is, as well.” If only she could summon more confidence. Otetiani had given no guarantees of Joseph’s safety.

“And if I don’t? What do you think he’ll do?”

Hannah’s fears piled up as she glanced from the cabin to the warriors. “I don’t know.”

Joseph nodded. “Tell him I will come as soon as I’ve delivered my son safely to the cabin.”

“I’ll tell him.” She turned to go.

“And Hannah.”

She glanced at him.

“If I survive this−if my family survives this−I will help you find your brothers.”

“Thank you.” Though she guessed the promise was made more for his own sake than for hers. If Otetiani did turn to anger, how much did Joseph stand to lose?

Everything.

She raced back, out of breath by time she reached the warriors who had now dismounted. She repeated Joseph’s message and watched the ridges lining Otetiani’s frown deepen.

“He has a wife, then?”

“No, his wife died with the birth of their second child.” At least that’s what evidence suggested. Envy and pity mingled into a feeling she didn’t recognize.

Joseph appeared around the side of the barn, arms empty, hat low on his head, and movements stiff.

Hannah tensed. She could imagine what it felt like to walk toward what might be his execution. “You must promise me you won’t harm him.”

Otetiani’s eyes narrowed. “His life matters so much to you?”

Hannah couldn’t remove her gaze from the lone figure as he approached. “I gave him my word that you wish only to speak.” But she couldn’t deny the raw fear.

“Then I shall speak. And you will tell him my words.”

“Of course.”

Joseph stopped several yards off and raised his hands from his sides so his lack of weapons was evident.

“Waneek says you are a man of honor, and she trusts you to help find her brothers. Is this the truth?”

Hannah translated, leaving her Mohawk name as spoken.

Joseph looked to her, and then back to Otetiani. “Yes. I will do all I am able.”

“I ask one more thing−that you take her to shelter and provide for her as your wife.”

Only half the words made it past Hannah’s throat before it closed off. She rotated to her cousin. “Yáh!” How could he demand such a thing without first asking her?

Instead of heeding her, Otetiani spoke to Joseph, his English faulty but clear. “I not leave her unless she your Tiakení:teron.”

Joseph looked to her. “I don’t understand.”

Hannah suddenly felt cold. “He says he won’t leave unless I am your wife.”