Becoming A Founding "Father"- Historical Hamilton

Chapter Sixteen: Laurens And Margaret

The sun still hadn't set, and camp was still bustling with people all around. Despite what I told Alex, I'm not that tired, so maybe I could find someone who could use a helpful hand. After all, sitting around and doing nothing is boring when you don't have an internet connection.

In the corner of my eye, I noticed a young woman struggling to carry two luggages. Quickly approaching her, I shout out. "Ma'am, do you need help?"

She stuttered and her messy brown curls fell on her face. After a second, she composed herself and smiled. "I would be grateful, sir."

"I haven't seen you around camp before," I say as I pick up the heavier luggage. "Are you new?"

"I- uh- I am, yes." She looks nervous. "I'm a nurse, sir."

"That's nice. It's always good to have more medical staff at camp." A pause, and I remember something. "I apologize in advance for my way of speech, it gets confusing at times."

"Oh, 'tis no trouble at all, sir!" She quickly exclaimed, shaking her head.

"That's good to know. I won't be offended if you ask me to repeat or reiterate, is all I'm saying. Where to, ma'am?"

The leads me to the nurse quarters, where she gets many odd looks. She sticks to my side like a shadow, trying to avoid the stares, clearly nervous. I try to start a conversation with her- maybe that'll help her relax. "So, what's your name?"

"I'm Margaret Sc- ah, sorry," she muttered something quietly, before quietly stating "I am Margaret, sir."

First name only? I haven't heard that in a while. "Well then, welcome, Margaret, to camp. You can call me Solomon." She smiles nervously at that, twiddling her fingers. We finally reach her quarters, and I put down her luggage by the door. 

"Will you be okay from now on, on should I..?" Margaret looks at me nervously.

"I- Could I get some help with... organizing all of this, please?" She pointed at the lighter luggage. "Those seem to be... medical supplies that I was given when I came in. T-that is, if you are not busy, sir." The last part came out rushed and quiet. Christ, she seems terrified. 

"Of course, Miss Margaret," I smile at her, and she seems really relieved. 

"So," I start, starting to unpack the medical luggage. "What caused you to volunteer? Or join, I presume."

"Ah, that," she said. "I volunteered, yes. My father, a patriot, is part of the American cause, and I, inspired by his actions, wished to do the same." A bittersweet smile crossed her face when she mentioned her father. I wonder why. "What about you, sir?"

"Call me Solomon, please. And it's a long story- I've been involved with the war for a while, actually. I'm from Europe, and when I first came to America, I assumed that it already was an independent country- separate from Britain, I mean."

"Already?" 

"Hmm?" She shakes her head dismissively, and tells me to go on. "And when I was told that Britain is taxing us as if we're cash cows- uh, made of money-" I correct myself when I notice her confused expression. "-I was shocked, and that caused an argument between me and my... friend." I quickly stopped myself from saying brother. He's not my brother. "Somehow, after a while, that friend turned out to be a huge patriot, who basically signed me up for the war."

"Oh, what a turn of events!" She laughed politely. It sounded strange, almost fake, but maybe that was just me. "Is your friend here, too?"

"Yeah." I nod. "He's a great guy." And a pretty big deal in the future. I felt a strong urge to say that, but I held my tongue.