Chapter 17

JACK HAD NO current plan in mind. His intentions were only to get far away from the house. He stayed away from trails, which was risky, but proved to be more beneficial. At times, Running Bull took the lead. The British soldiers did not know the countryside like the Colonists and Indians did, and while Jack may not have known specifically where they were at that moment, or what lay before them, they were in the forest and that was home to him.

The biting winter wind stung his face as they raced through the darkness. Jack had no way of knowing the exact time, but he assumed it was in the early morning hours based on the location of the moon when it broke through the trees.

He worried for Nora. She had seen much death since he had come barreling into her life, and he knew she had seen much before that. Was she upset at having killed a man?

Reining in when they came to a small clearing, Jack listened. He didn’t know for sure how long they had been riding, but they needed to rest the horses.

Jack looked up to the sky. Judging by the stars, they were north of Ben’s property, which meant if they rode west, they would come upon Philadelphia soon. There, they could buy more supplies for their trip north. If Nora had money, they could rent a room, and she could sleep in a bed. Of course, it might be better if they slept in the forest. They would certainly be less conspicuous, and he did not know how much money she carried with her. Coupled with that, there was the issue of Running Bull—he would not be able to walk through the city. Most people still saw the Indians as savages, so it would be safer for him to stay out of cities and towns.

“There is a stream nearby,” Jack finally said quietly. “We can rest for a bit.”

Nora said nothing as they led the horses through the trees.

When they reached the stream, they dismounted and led the horses to the water.

“What is your horse’s name?” Nora asked.

“Hmmm?” Jack responded, lost in thought. It hadn’t taken Rogan long to track Nora down at Ben’s, at least not long after he had rescued her from Rogan’s men. That was quick work. How far did his network of associates extend?

“The stallion,” Nora said, gesturing to the horse. “What is his name?”

Jack thought it was an odd question but opted not to comment on it. “I’m not sure he has a name.”

“How could you not know whether or not your own horse has a name?”

“He’s not my horse,” Jack shrugged. “I stole him.”

“Well,” she said slowly, “if he is your horse now, he should have a name.”

Jack sighed. Would he ever get accustomed to her? Even in the darkness, after a frantic sprint through the forest, she seemed calm, almost serene. He wondered idly if she had named the horse she had just stolen.

“You take the honor, my lady,” he decided.

“Me?” Nora did not attempt to hide her surprise. “He is your horse, sir.”

“We are traveling together now, so he is your horse as well. Since it seems important to you, you give him a name. Make it a good one.”

Jack watched Nora study the horse as he drank from the stream in the moonlight. The horse was magnificent for sure, fast as a bullet and almost regal, a Quarter horse the color of sand. Nora left her own drinking Thoroughbred and approached the stallion. He raised his head and eyed her with interest.

Jack and Running Bull observed curiously as Nora looked into the horse’s eyes while she stroked his mane, scratched behind his ears, and murmured words in another lan-guage.

“His name is Charlemagne,” she announced confidently, stepping back.

“Really?” Jack arched a brow, amused. “And did you just discuss that with him?”

“No, it fits. Charlemagne was—”

“I may not be well read, but I can read, milady!” Jack countered. “Charlemagne,” he mused, looking the horse over. “I suppose it will fit. Will you name your new horse as well?”
Considering his question, Nora looked to her horse be-fore turning back to Jack. “Nothing is coming to mind at the moment. I’ll have to think on it.”

Throwing back his head, Jack laughed.

Nora looked back up and gifted him with a smile that lit up the night. Jack’s mouth ran dry, his body stiffened, and he cleared his throat. “Let’s sit down on the embankment there.”

“Why?”

“We need to discuss our next move,” he said, walking away from the horses and the strange feelings fluttering in his chest.

“I will go and scout,” Running Bull said before melting into the shadows. Nora eyed the spot where he had disappeared for a moment before glancing at the horses who had wandered a bit to graze. Some sort of emotion passed through her eyes that Jack did not recognize, but it passed as she sat down on the ground next to him.

“You said ‘we,’” she noted.

“Did you not lecture me tonight about working together?”

“I didn’t realize you would be agreeable so quickly.”

“I haven’t said that I was,” Jack shrugged. “However, circumstances are circumstances. We find ourselves moving before we were ready. There are immediate issues we need to ad-dress. First, we will need more supplies. I would like to have more weapons—ammunition specifically—food, appropriate clothing.”

Nora turned back to the stream and bent down to retrieve her saddlebag, then began rummaging through it. Jack studied her as she did so. She was an intelligent woman, and her actions at Ben’s house had shown courage. He was growing to like her, to admire her. So far in his life, he had managed to avoid liking or admiring women.

Nora smiled as she dislodged what appeared to be a false bottom of the saddlebag and withdrew a burgundy velvet bag. Jack watched, impressed. He could not deny how clever she was. Leaning forward when she held out the bag, he peered inside. “This is quite a bit of money,” he said, surprised.

“It should be enough for more weapons and supplies,” she replied. “I believe that Lord Rogan will be watching for that kind of thing.”

“We will have to take our chances this time. I dislike being conspicuous as much as you do, but we cannot be unprepared against him, my lady.”

“Eleanor.”

“Excuse me?”

“Would it be too painful for you to address me as Eleanor, or better yet, Nora?”

“It might be.” He turned away from her and whistled for the recently christened Charlemagne, the horse loyally trotting over. Nora retuned the money to the false compartment in her saddlebag.

“I think it unwise to head right into Philadelphia. That may be where the Redcoats look first. We’ll hide out here in the forest for a few days,” Jack said, lifting the saddlebags off the horse and hefting them over his shoulder. “We can buy more weapons in Philadelphia, a change of clothing, more supplies, and you can sleep in a bed there. It would be wiser to stay in one room together when we are able to stay at inns. We are less likely to attract attention in urban areas if we are traveling as husband and wife.”

“I suppose, if you think that is safest,” Nora said, looking around. “Are we to build a shelter then?”

“Not on the ground.”

“Well, then where?”

Jack smiled then looked up to the trees and pointed. “Up there. We can’t build a fire in case they’ve sent men this far in—it will attract attention. We go up. If they do come, we’ll have the advantage.”

Nora looked dubious. No doubt a shelter up in the trees had never occurred to her, but Jack had learned all manner of things from the Indians. They were used to thinking of new, safe hiding places from the white man, and Running Bull had probably already started on his by now.

“The horses could draw attention, but if we’re silent in the trees, the Redcoats may move on—possibly take the horses, but they’d never know we were above them. Hope you climb well, my lady.”