The Patriot's Daughter

A Hasty Departure

THE ATMOSPHERE CHANGES, SHIFTING from a day of travel into a night of unease as we quickly form a circle. Liam begins speaking faster than I can keep up, though with a sense of purpose that reminds me of Papa.
"A scouting party needs to be re-deployed immediately." Liam's hands move to his trouser's pockets like I've seen several times before, calm and collected even in great alarm. "We have to find out more about Peterson, what other missions he's aware of." He nods to each of us gathered, a taut nervousness rising from the tiny group of just Brenley, Liam, the two soldiers, and myself. "Most importantly, where he's gone to. Tomah can track him," mid-sentence, Liam whistles a signal towards his squad's campfire, "and possibly even catch the traitor before he gets to wherever he's going."
Brenley nods solemnly. "We don't know any of this for sure, but we need to assume the worst for now. I'll speak with Grover and see if Peterson has been privy to any other critical information since he's been here." Liam turns back, nodding as Brenley directs the next comment to him. "You organize the scouting party and get them on their way."
Tomah jogs to our circle, a sheath full of arrows this time on his back, a beautifully carved bow over his shoulder. Brenley turns to the skillful looking Indian. "Come with me, lad, to question Grover. Might find something out that will help you find Peterson. I'll fill you in on the way over to his tent." The two men are walking away even as Brenley wraps up his orders. Clearly the Irish major has had experience in this field.
"Major," Liam calls after forcefully, then shifts to a whisper, "what if Grover's in on it? He was the one that wanted to send Peterson instead of me."
Brenley raises those bushy eyebrows, tapping his temple with a finger. "Already ahead of you, lad. Been outthinking the Brits since before you were born!" His mouth stretches into a grin hiding mischief. "You leave Grover to me and your Indian friend here."
Liam turns back to me, determined with haste for action. "Your father returns tomorrow. You'll be safe here tonight in his tent. I'll be back by morning."
My response surprises me. "But the major only said for you to organize the scouting party, not go with them."
Liam takes a moment, seeming almost patient to explain as he looks down at me. "I know the way better than anyone. At this point, I'm not sure I trust anyone outside my squad." He raises a finger above his head, making a circling motion. I turn, watching Woods and Fields respond to the signal, having already picked up on the activity and starting towards us.
I spin back to Liam. "I need to tell you something, before you leave."
Hesitant to shake his head, he lets out an uncertain sigh. "Maddie, I'm sorry, there's really no time."
"It could be important if you're going back." I wait, watching him.
He glances to the side, looking on the soldiers and nodding quickly. "Hurry then, every minute counts now."
My pulse spikes as I recall the details about Warren. I scratch the bottom of my lip. "When we ran into Dragoons in the forest?"
He nods again, then holds up his hand with one finger as if to say "one moment." He watches Kel join Woods and Fields as they prepare horses for the hasty departure. He calls after. "Kel! Fields! Find Tomah and go with him to track Peterson. Woods, you're with me. We ride for River Springs tonight." He pauses, looks back at me, then to them again. "I need a minute."
I jump right back in. "I know one of those Dragoons. I didn't know he was a Dragoon when he was at my house with Irene, but now I know. His name is Warren Tresting." I eye a soldier a few yards away who seems to be trying to overhear the conversation, or maybe now I'm just paranoid. Still, I lower my voice. "He's been playing a suitor, fooling Irene." Liam looks back to me and peers through the last bit of daylight. I shake my head in contempt at the situation. "Who knows what other tricks he's played, what information he's gathered. He could have been the main planner behind the attack." I look up at Liam, feeling vulnerable and embarrassed to share my weakness. "I didn't suspect a thing. I just thought he was entertaining a girl far too young." I can't help the frustration in my voice. "I'm such a fool."
"This isn't your fault." Liam searches my eyes, giving his head a few firm shakes to the side. "If he's who you say he is, then Warren was never going to allow you to figure him out." He looks to the side, watching the men. "You couldn't have done anything anyway."
Isn't he right? How would I have known? I swallow away a lump in my throat. "Just—watch out for him. Well, for any of them."
"Aye." He nods. He somehow makes everything more comfortable, and I release a long sigh, starting to feel the first signs of exhaustion that's been forced to stay at bay for the past few hours.
"I didn't think you would have even known they were Dragoons." He looks back at me. "I didn't tell you what I knew about them. Didn't want to give you more cause for concern." He smiles slightly. "I guess it's my turn to be impressed."
I allow myself a small smile back, being okay with not knowing what to say.
He breathes in, appearing to go over a mental checklist before he leaves. "I'll see that you're situated and then have William posted as a watch throughout the night. He's one of your father's personal assistants and even though he's not in my squad, I trust him." He shoots a wary glance to the side, chewing his bottom lip. "I think."
"That's comforting, Lieutenant."
He raises both brows. "Well, weren't you the one to say you wouldn't fully trust someone until you've known them for many years?" He allows a partial smile.
"Why didn't you tell me you were an officer?" I shake my head. "Why say you were only a messenger?" I know I'm keeping him too long, but it's our first moment alone since Simpson called him Lieutenant O'Dally.
His face and eyes soften, as if regarding me carefully. "Your father taught me that titles mean very little. It's what a man actually does that counts." As if on cue, his squad has mounted their horses and whistles impatiently to him that they are ready to depart. Liam disregards them for a moment as he waives William over. "William, you saw Miss Holt earlier. Once she is settled in the colonel's tent, would you take watch over her for the night? He'll be returning in the morning. I need to check some things out and will be gone for a few hours." Liam's eyes tell me that we should guard information about where he and his squad are going.
"I'd consider it an honor, Lieutenant. The Lady will be safely looked after." More jovial than most soldiers, William gestures for me to follow him to Papa's tent.
Liam awkwardly shuffles between us. "Uh, I will do that for her." He turns to me, murmuring under his breath. "You're not walking through this camp alone."
I raise a brow challengingly. "But you just said William here—"
"I said he would watch the tent. I, and only I," Liam shoots a glance to William, "will escort you during your stay here." I notice the warning is sent to William more than me, so I close my mouth, watching the exchange.
"As you wish, sir. I didn't mean to cause a problem." William's brown eyes flash innocently, as if he isn't following Liam's concern at all.
Liam nods curtly. "Of course." He runs a tanned hand through his hair. "Let's get you settled quickly."
My hand shoots over my mouth, covering a smile. William leads the way, nervously glancing back to confirm we are following him. Liam guides me slightly in front of him, hand on the higher part of my back. When did he decide to get so protective? I take a long stride, stepping out of Liam's reach as we pass rows of tents and fires.
The evening grows heavier with darkened skies, the air cooling with the rising of the moon. Chatter dies down, men extinguish fires. "Here you are, Miss." William's nice smile and dark skin makes him a handsome young man. He opens the flaps to a medium-sized tent.
Offering a nod, I step over a peg on the ground, walking in with Liam and glancing back. "Thank you, William."
Liam lets the flaps close behind us, perhaps not meaning to rudely leave William out.
Or perhaps so.
The tent is somewhat cozy inside. Liam stays at the entrance, leaning half his weight against a long legged, wooden stand. He seems unsure what to do next, running his gaze around the tent's walls. "Very small."
I stifle a smile, my heart pricked by his concern. "It's perfect." I sidestep the wooden stand, sliding closer to him hesitantly. "Thank you . . ." My hand finds the stand behind me, supporting my weight. "For caring."
He interlocks his fingers at his bent waist, eyes dancing across mine. "You're welcome." He shuffles, obviously yearning to leave for the mission yet hesitating, perhaps unsure about leaving me alone.
I turn slowly, finger swiping across the stand and picking up dust. "When Papa gets here, everything will be alright." I smile, though my back faces him. "Then you won't have to watch me like a hawk anymore." 
As I spin back around, he suddenly steps forward, locked on my face. My mouth turns dry for no reason as he blinks twice and inhales, as if about to say something. I sweep my eyes over him, hesitating—"I'll be fine, Liam. Go. Like you said before, we need good information before Papa can plan a successful rescue."
His back straightens and he lets out a slow breath, taking a small step back. "William . . ." He nods softly to the side, his eyes wistful. "He'll be sleeping right outside, ready to help you if anything should happen." Briskly he turns, pulling back the flaps with a peer behind his shoulder. "I ask that you not leave this tent until your father or I come for you."
I nod, moving with him towards the flap as he steps out. He stops outside the tent, smiling with his eyes. "Tomorrow."
My whisper is hushed by a soft breeze floating through. "Tomorrow." I keep his gaze, backing into the tent, forcing myself to let the flaps close. I stare ahead longer than I should, then turn to face the empty tent as a sudden sense of gloom falls around me.
The night seems lonely, and I am suddenly eager for the lieutenant's return.