For Love or Country: The MacGregor Legacy | Book 2 (12 page)

Tyra MacGregor was changing him.

He nudged his horse forward and rode down the drive and onto the long road leading northwest into Wilmington. Less than an hour later, he arrived at the Burgwin House on the corner of Market Street. A half-loaded wagon was parked on the side of the road by the house.

“Secure those trunks with another rope,” Major Craig ordered two soldiers. He turned at the sound of Hugh’s boots crunching the gravel. “Ah, there you are, Captain Morgan. I thought I would see you earlier this morning.”

Hugh wanted to ask what was going on with the wagon and all the extra soldiers around the premise, but instead, he launched into the story of what had happened with Tyra. He omitted what he could and concentrated on the details of the punishment he had implemented. Major Craig listened as two soldiers deposited chairs in the wagon. He pressed the toe of his boot into the gravel and made a half circle. After Hugh finished speaking, Major Craig stood in silence and crossed his arms, placing his finger on his chin in thought.

“This letter Miss MacGregor was trying to send, are you certain it is merely a letter to find out if her father and brothers survived and naught more?” Major Craig turned dark eyes upon Hugh, reminding him of a looming storm cloud.

“Yes sir, as I mentioned, Miss MacGregor was only concerned about her father and brothers.” Hugh stood in a soldier stance with his feet shoulder width apart and his hands linked behind his back.

“Her father and brothers have been at war for five years. Why would she be so concerned now?” Major Craig asked.

“I believe it may be my fault, sir,” Hugh said. “I told them about the bloody battle at Guilford Court House.”

A soldier brought out two more wooden chairs and placed them in the wagon. Sergeant McAlister marched by with a group of soldiers and saluted Major Craig and Hugh. No doubt, they were conducting the afternoon patrol through Wilmington. On the other side of the Burgwin House, swords clashed as men trained.

“They would have heard about it eventually.” Major Craig tilted his head and pinned dark eyes on Hugh. “Why did Miss MacGregor not use the regular postal system?”

“I would imagine it is because several Patriot letters have been confiscated by the troops.” Hugh took a deep breath in discomfort. Now came the moment when the major would analyze what Hugh had told him and decide if he could be trusted.

“It would indicate Miss MacGregor had something to hide.” Major Craig twisted his lips into a frown as he pondered the situation further.

“I am as certain as I can be under the circumstances,” Hugh said. “It is possible Miss MacGregor enclosed a letter to a lover with her letter to her family.” The mere thought turned Hugh’s stomach sour, but he needed to distract Major Craig’s attention from suspecting her of spy activities.

“True, but I have not trusted the woman since I met her.” Major Craig’s tone turned bitter. “There is something about her I distrust.” He lifted a finger. “In fact, after her house arrest is over, I would like for you to give Miss MacGregor a little bit of freedom. It is my experience if a person betrays another, their actions will eventually give them up.”

“Yes, sir.” An uneasy feeling entered Hugh’s gut. Tyra was too headstrong for her own good. Even if she was innocent of spying, he feared her daring behavior could still cause her trouble.

Major Craig walked around the wagon, pulling and tugging on the rope to make sure everything was tight and secure. His white powdered wig was pulled back, tied in a red ribbon behind his neck, and it moved with each jerking motion he made. With a nod of approval, he turned to his men waiting for further orders and said, “Well done, soldiers.”

“Sir, I cannot help but notice all the activity today,” Hugh said. “Do we have new orders?”

“Indeed, I have recently learned Lord Cornwallis will be here within the hour. He has requested the best house in Wilmington, which means I must vacate the premises.” He pointed north. “I will be moving into the Mitchell House.”

“Where will we keep fourteen hundred new men?” Hugh asked.

“They will camp out all over Wilmington while the officers take over housing as needed.” Major Craig came over to stand in front of him. “After the Battle of Guilford Courthouse our soldiers are tired, hungry, and in the worst of conditions. Lord Cornwallis is hoping to not only rest them, but to stock up on new supplies.”

“I see.” Hugh turned and looked his commanding officer in the eye. “What are my orders, sir?”

“You are to oversee a place for all the men to sleep when they arrive, a system with medical attention and food. I have Captain Blake overseeing their training and weaponry.” Major Craig turned and walked toward the back of the Burgwin House. Hugh fell into step beside him. The blockhouse was now empty.

“What happened to Harnett?” Hugh asked.

“The man finally got what he deserved,” Major Craig said. “He contracted some kind of illness. The Tories felt sorry for him and asked for his release. I let him go free three days ago.”

“How is he now?”

“Dead.”

Chapter 12

12

T
his confinement was killing her. Tyra had always been active, running and playing outside during childhood, trying her best to keep up with her brothers. Staying inside the walls of her chamber for a week made her feel like she might suffocate under a lake of water.

For the first few hours of her confinement, she read her Bible and prayed, wrote letters to her aunt Blair in Charles Town and to her cousin Rebecca. She considered trying to sketch the view of the east fields from her window, but she didn’t have drawing talent and the prospect bored her. She paced and mentally fumed at Hugh until her mother brought a tray of hot food for dinner.

Private Truitt insisted on inspecting the tray and would not allow them to close the door to have any privacy. He sat in a wooden chair out in the hallway within hearing distance. While she ate boiled potatoes and a buttered slice of bread, her mother talked about Kirk’s exploits of the day. They discussed how the rice fields suffered without her father and brothers. They would have another year of no crops. Her mother didn’t say it aloud, but Tyra knew their savings were getting low.

Tyra knew her mother made idle conversation to keep from raising private Truitt’s suspicions. In spite of her mother’s controlled efforts, Tyra wanted to rant and rave at the injustice of how Patriots were being treated during the British occupation of Wilmington. Specifically, she longed to confide in her mother at the confusion she felt between her feelings for Hugh, his tender kisses, his obligation to the Royal Army, and her obligation to her family and the Continental cause for their freedom.

By the time she finished her meal, Tyra could no longer hold back her questions. She set her tray on the desk and went back to sit on the edge of the bed beside her mother. She cleared her throat, hoping to set a nonchalant tone. “Has Captain Morgan not yet returned?” she asked, glancing at the dark sky outside her window. “When did he say he would return?”

“Tyra, were ye hoping to appeal to Captain Morgan’s conscience?” Mama asked. “He does not strike me as the sort of man who would change his mind so easy. In spite of him being a captain in the British Army, the punishment he gave ye is no worse than what ye’ve endured from your own father at times. I am afraid ye may eventually push him too far and anger him.”

“But that is the point, Mama,” Tyra said. “He is not my father nor my husband. I am not a soldier to be ordered about. In spite of this awful war, honorable men treat women and children with decorum.”

“Aye, but it is why I believe yer punishment is fair. Lass, I want ye to remember he is still an officer of the army occupying this town. ’Tis too dangerous to keep pushing him. I sincerely believe Captain Morgan has tried to be accommodating to our family as much as his limitations will allow.” Mama touched her shoulder. “’Tis only for three more days. Surely, ye can manage?”

“Yes, not for my sake, but for you and Kirk.” Tyra chuckled with sarcasm. “It amazes me, just like Da he knew exactly what would be the hardest on me. I could have probably endured some other unpleasant chore much better than being confined in pure idleness.”

“I would imagine he thought it a better punishment for a woman than any other alternative,” Mama said.

“I know, but he is the most exasperating man.” Her mind clouded over, and her heart ached with confusion. She wasn’t sure she could trust her own judgment anymore. What was she thinking kissing him? The knowledge that her father and brothers could end up facing Hugh in the heat of battle and that they would be obligated to kill the other, filled her with sorrow. After all her family had done in making sacrifices and risking their lives for freedom, she did not want them to feel as if she had betrayed them.

Tears stung her eyes, and she looked away to keep her mother from seeing them. She clenched her teeth with determination. Somehow, she would have to train herself to overcome this dangerous attraction and affection she had developed for Hugh. Winning this conflicting battle within herself was detrimental to her state of mind.

“Lord help me.”
Her heart’s prayer came out as a whisper.

“Tyra, he is the best person to call on in times of trouble and where matters of the heart are concerned.” Mama covered her hand and gave her a gentle squeeze. “God knows what is best. Allow him to lead you through this.”

Tyra wanted to deny she was wrestling with a matter of the heart, but she refrained for fear of lying.

Approaching footsteps sounded in the hall, and Kirk greeted Private Truitt. A moment later, he arrived in her chamber with a slight grin on his face. His black boots were coated with thick mud where he had been outside. At least the mud was dry and would only leave pieces of crumbling clay in her floor.

“You really did it this time, Tyra,” he said. “After scaring us like that you are getting what you deserve. If I had pulled a stunt like that, Captain Morgan probably would have put me in the cellar.”

“Kirk, ’tis enough,” Mama said. “Do not antagonize yer sister. She is going through enough at the moment.” Her voice held a tone of warning. She rose to her feet with a reluctant sigh and walked over to the desk where she pulled a piece of paper from under Tyra’s empty plate. “I brought some Bible verses I hoped might be helpful.”

Tyra accepted the paper to keep from upsetting her mother, but she feared they would not hold the answers to her conflicting emotions.

“We shall leave ye in peace now.” Mama pointed behind her. “Kirk, grab the tray and come.”

Tyra studied the Bible verses her mother left behind. The one in Proverbs stood out to her.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct your paths.
She paused, realizing how little she had prayed in the last few weeks. Growing up she had always felt safe and believed God would protect her in any circumstance, but war had changed her. War was unstable, evil, and it destroyed a person’s faith. She had come to depend on things she could see, touch, and what she knew. At times, it felt like God had abandoned them. She couldn’t understand all the killing and destruction, but understood it was necessary in order to survive when attacked. How could she come to trust God with what she couldn’t understand? It seemed so hard.

After reading more encouraging Scriptures, Tyra went to her desk and pulled out paper, quill, and ink to write a letter to Mr. Simmons in the Whig party. When she finished, she waved the letter through the air to help it dry. She needed to put it away before someone came in and discovered it. The lives of the prisoners at the Burgwin House depended on her success.

The fire in the hearth had smoldered. Tyra poked her head out the door and asked Truitt for more logs. Carrying the candle from her desk to the table by her bedside, she settled down and took up sewing. Soon she would have a new set of gloves for Alec.

A few moments later, a door opened and closed downstairs. Tyra assumed it was Private Truitt bringing the logs. She snuggled under her blanket looking forward to more warmth in her chamber. Footsteps climbed the stairs and approached her door. A bold knock followed.

“Come in,” she called.

Hugh walked in carrying a load of logs. He grinned at the surprised look she couldn’t hide. A new warmth glowed in her heart as if the fire had been rekindled in her chamber. The anger she had felt earlier in the morning was gone.

***

“I was not who you were expecting, was I?” Hugh asked.

“’Tis late.” Tyra scrambled to sit up straight as she pulled the quilt up to her chin. Hugh suppressed a grin. At least she was speaking to him after he forced her to stay in her chamber all day. “You are usually home before now. Where is Private Truitt?”

“Were you worried about me?” The way she referred to this house as his home as well as hers filled him with an unexpected tenderness and longing. Hugh set the spare logs in the large basket by the hearth and placed two small logs on the iron grate over simmering coals. At least the coals were still hot enough to build a larger fire without having to spend a lot of time rubbing flint and steel together. He dusted his hands and glanced at Tyra.

“Not in the least.” She lifted her chin like a defiant child. He grinned, sensing she tried too hard to show an attitude of indifference. Of course, at ten and seven, Tyra was still young. At times, it was hard to remember six years separated them. Though many girls her age married, some were committed to men much older than himself.

His thoughts were going too far down the wrong path. He shook his head and concentrated on the earlier question she had asked. “As for Truitt, he has been here all day, so I thought I would give him a break.” He turned back to building the fire and stirred the coals to stoke the tiny flames. More sparks caught the bark on the new logs. “I have some news I thought you might be interested in.”

“What news?” she asked, her tone changing to curiosity. He knew her interest would be piqued and grinned.

“Lord Cornwallis arrived in Wilmington today with over fourteen hundred men. They took a severe beating at Guilford Courthouse, more so than I originally realized. They are in need of supplies, food, clothing, and anything residents can spare.”

“So it is why you are late?” Tyra bit her bottom lip as she looked down at the floor. He sensed something else was on her mind, but wasn’t sure if she would tell him. “In spite of what you must think of me, I am sorry they are in such a sorry state.” She sighed and dropped her head back on her shoulders and looked up at the ceiling. “I am so tired of this war.”

Hugh studied her profile. The tears that sprang in her eyes reminded him of her compassion, the part of her which decided to save his life before she knew him. “I believe you, Tyra.” He hated the thought of being her enemy. How could he ever consider himself as such? It was impossible.

He could feel his loyalty to his nation slipping as his feelings for her continued to grow. As a soldier, he had been trained to serve God, king, country, and then family. As he studied Tyra, he couldn’t imagine putting his country, before her, and she was not even family. Yet, the idea of her being part of his family appealed to him more than he wanted to admit. What was right? At one time he thought he had his priorities straight, but now he wasn’t so sure.

“Major Craig has moved out of the Burgwin House and has taken residence at the Mitchell House. Lord Cornwallis has taken over the Burgwin House, and the headquarters will remain there.” Hugh stirred the flames one more time before setting the poker aside. He turned to stand. “Now as troops are covering all of Wilmington, tensions will be high. Residents will be expected to give more and things will change.”

“What kind of things?” she asked.

“’Twill be much harder on the Patriots and your family.” He walked toward her. “Now, more than ever, I need you to be on your best behavior. Do naught to cause more harm to you or your family.” Fear twisted in his gut, knowing how independent and courageous she could be. “Promise me, Tyra.”

She didn’t answer as she considered what he had said in silence. He waited, but he could see the hesitation in her eyes. An eerie sensation raced up his spine. Was she already planning something?Or worse, had she already done something? He loved the spirited determination in her and admired her for it, but he didn’t want it to be the end of her.

“Tyra, will you not promise me you will behave?” he asked, wondering how he could keep her locked up here for her own safety. Since Major Craig wanted him to give her more freedom, he feared his superior officer was right, she would cause her own demise. He stepped closer, hating the troubled ache in the back of his throat and the pressure gnawing at his heart. “I know you are a woman of your word. Promise me.”

“No, I will do what I must to protect myself and my family.” She gulped. “You must know me well enough by now to know I believe in the cause my family is fighting for. How can I believe as they do and be willing to do any less?” Her eyes pleaded for understanding.

At the moment, it was as if Hugh’s heart collapsed to his stomach. He admired her conviction and respected her all the more. What man would not want such a woman by his side? Someone who would stick by him through anything and be there when the worst was over. Would his king do that for him? Would his country? No. Only God, and now, perhaps a godly woman like Tyra. He closed his eyes, but she wasn’t standing beside him. She was against him.

“Tell me, Hugh.” She leaned forward, her voice growing more determined. “What are you fighting for? King and country? A commission to fulfill?”

“I signed my name and gave my word,” he said, feeling uncomfortable at having his personal decisions being questioned. Why did his reasons seem less convincing compared to hers? “I never break my word.”

“I know, which is why, I could never give you my heart, but I do care about you.” Unshed tears filled her eyes and they sparkled like green orbs. “’Tis why I asked my father about your brother. I know how it feels to wonder if a brother is alive and well. I wanted to help you, but I also know in my heart that if you were ordered to shoot me, you would feel obligated to do so.”

His throat constricted as indecision wrestled inside him. For the first time in his life, he didn’t even know himself. Hugh looked down at the floor, feeling guilt-ridden. An image of a shot being fired upon Tyra and blood spilling from her chest sent a panic of unrest throughout his trembling body. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself. If he defied such orders, he could be executed. It was an image which didn’t fill him with as much distress. She was wrong. He wouldn’t be able to go through with the order.

“Your silence is answer enough,” she said, sorrow in her tone.

Hugh couldn’t meet her gaze. She would see the truth in his eyes, and if she knew the vulnerable state she had placed him in, would she take advantage of him? He wasn’t ready to admit how deeply she affected him. He needed to change the topic.

“I have some more bad news. I discovered Harnett died. The Tories finally took pity upon him and asked Major Craig to release him a couple of days before he passed away.”