Chapter 42

Jack's body ached everywhere. Over the last several hours, the guards had beaten, burned, and whipped him, but he hadn’t given away Nora’s location. Eventually they had tossed him into a dirty, smelly, dark cell with the promise that more pain was to come. He knew the interrogators were trying to break him, leaving him to his own thoughts.
They hoped that during the time Jack spent in isolation, anxiety and terror would build up overthinking about what they might have in store for him next. But Jack didn’t have to imagine. He had used similar techniques when interrogating prisoners of the Shawnee. While his tribe wished to remain peaceful, they were sometimes forced into battles and had taken their share of prisoners. As war chief-in-training, Jack often handled those negotiations. If it were him conducting the interrogation, knives would come next. Dull ones that had been put into a fire. Then the removal of fingers. None of these things appealed to Jack, but he had failed his tribe—he would not fail Nora.

The disappointment to his people weighed heavy on him. His and Running Bull’s likenesses appeared on wanted posters. Who could negotiate in their absence? Would Jack’s error in judgment be forever to the detriment of his tribe? Had he made them a target? What would happen to his parents if Gage made good on his threat? They had taken him in and raised him as their own. This was a sorry way to repay them. His tribe did not even know Nora existed or who she was to Jack. They would not risk themselves for her.

But they would for Running Bull.

How had Jack allowed this to happen? In his obsession with learning Nora’s secrets, he had lost sight of his own mis-sion and purpose. Sure, in the abstract, he knew what his goals were, but he had become consumed with finding the secrets to his dreams. He was consumed by Nora. There were feelings there he didn’t yet understand—strong feelings. He had known the time was coming when he would need to choose between his tribe and the white world. After this blunder, the elders would not take him back.
This was to be a mission for Jack to prove himself and his value. He would have no place there now. He had thought securing the safety of his tribe would make it easier for him to leave—be less of a burden on his conscience—but he would have to carry his failure with him.

He raised his head when he heard female laughter. The corridor was dimly light by a torch at the end by the door. Shivers from the cold and pain came with chattering teeth.
The soldiers had taken off his fur and shirt, removed his boots. He was likely to catch his death in here.

And if he did, he would fail Nora, as well.

The sound of laughter grew louder. Two British soldiers moved with purpose down the corridor, and Jack knew they were coming back for him. They stopped in front of his cell with their heads down so that he could not see any part of their faces. One took out a set of keys and fumbled with them for a bit, trying different ones. Jack raised an eyebrow. These must not be the normal guards if they didn’t know which key opened the lock.

When the cell door finally opened, the other soldier yanked him out into the corridor. There were only the two. He could defeat them. He just needed to disarm one of them, but there was no way to tell how many lay in his path to freedom.

“Follow us, keep your head down, and do not speak one word,” hissed a very angry, very familiar voice.

Nora!

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jack snapped.

Nora shoved him again—hard. “How dare you run off without saying a word? I thought we were past these games!”

“Friends,” the other soldier said, “I recommend you save the marital spat for when we are free of these walls, lest we all become guests. The liquor and whores will only last so long.” Alexander Hamilton turned and gave Jack a hard glare, and Jack immediately fell silent. The man was risking much to free him from captivity, and Jack would adhere to whatever plan they had concocted.

At the end of the corridor, Hamilton picked up a canvas bag and slung it over his shoulder. He opened the door and peered outside, checking for guards before, motioning the other two to follow. Jack stumbled along with him, rocks scraping his bare feet. The brisk New York winter air bit through him and his shivering became more pronounced. His teeth chattered harder as they maneuvered from building to building, cautiously checking for guards. They saw none, but Jack could hear the grunts and moans coming from the darkness. The whores kept the guards busy, and he didn’t envy them come morning when the prison break was discovered.

They quickly crossed an open courtyard and moved to a less populated area, keeping to the shadows. Hamilton glanced around, then swung the canvas bag down and began to pull out Jack’s clothing. Jack dressed hurriedly. His toes and fingers felt numb, and Nora moved in to help him secure his furs around him. “We will get something warm into you when we get back to the farm.” Though her tone was barely civil, her touch remained gentle.

“We can climb the fence down here by the chapel,” Hamilton said, leading the way again. “We must get to the farm as quickly as we can. If milady and I are found dressed in these uniforms, we will be hanged as spies. I have much work to do and am not ready to die this night. Mr. Running Bull is waiting with horses.”

Though Jack knew he would have to face Nora’s wrath, he’d rather do that a hundred times than face Running Bull and see his brother’s disappointment. He would have to tell his chief he had let the tribe down.

He would rather the torture.

Nora smoothed her hands over his furs. Tipping his face up to the moonlight, she studied the bruising he felt forming, though the whip marks on his back ached far worse. He could use her gentle touch in administering aid to them as well, even if she did yell at him the entire time.

“Can you ride?” Nora asked as they approached Running Bull on the side of the road. “Do you need to ride with someone?”

“I can manage,” Jack said, holding his ribs. He suspected one or two might be cracked, as any sort of movement at all sent searing pain through his chest. Mounting a horse would be miserable. Riding one would be hell on earth. Still, he’d rather face that than Running Bull, who must surely know by now that Jack had failed to negotiate a treaty for the tribe.

Running Bull said nothing as he helped Jack mount a horse. There would be enough time for talk.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

“Why did you not tell me your tribe business was at the garrison?” Nora asked as she gingerly cleaned out the wounds on Jack’s bare back near the hearth in their bedchamber.

Jack shook his head. “I suppose we didn’t trust each other enough.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t help you, Jack?” Nora asked. “Together we could have figured out a way. I would never want your tribe to suffer. They are your family.”

“It doesn’t matter now. I have failed them.” Jack dropped his head into his hands in defeat.

Nora sighed and looked down at him. Her heart ached for his pain despite her own hurt and frustration with him. She glided her hand over his shoulder then leaned and kissed his temple. The gesture felt natural, and it didn’t seem to bother Jack.

The fact that he was her Warrior still overwhelmed her. He was everything she could have asked for in a protector, but was he everything she could ask for in a mate? She had never given that much thought. So intent on finding her Warrior, she hadn’t thought what that would mean. This handsome, loyal to a fault man was to be her mate. She was attracted to him and had come to care about him more than she had realized before. Blushing and thankful she sat behind him, she realized she looked forward to their upcoming intimate times together. She was certainly enjoying him shirtless and the thought of being touched in return made her breath quicken. She quickly sobered though.
Attraction aside, they still didn’t fully trust each other. How could they have any sort of decent relationship without trust and communication?

After a moment, she sighed again and said, “The fault lays with me, Jack, not you. I am the one who put you in the position of being accused of a crime you didn’t commit. If it wasn’t for me, you would have gone to New York unmolested and been able carry out your business. I am responsible for the failure. I am responsible for each of these marks those bastards put on you.”

“It is kind of you to say so, Nora,” Jack said, “but you didn’t force me to do anything. I’m coming to realize that this—whatever it is—is bigger than us. I don’t believe either one of us truly understands it—and maybe we can’t.” Sighing, he scratched his fingers through his hair. “I must speak with Run-ning Bull.”

“After you lay down for a bit. Your body needs to rest, and we must leave here as soon as possible. Running Bull can wait until later. He’ll understand.”

Nora knew Jack was in pain when he wandered to the bed and lay down without complaint. She wanted to use the elixir to heal him but didn’t dare. She already risked there not being enough to drink. As if he read her thoughts, Jack broke them by saying, “The pain is deserved, Nora. Don’t use anything.”

“As you wish,” Nora murmured after a moment, startled and faintly relieved at being absolved of the decision. She smoothed the hair from his brow with her fingertips and drew the blanket up to his waist.

How she wished this were the time to give him the elixir, to acknowledge out loud he was her Warrior. She had spent the day terrified—terrified they wouldn’t be able to rescue him, terrified they’d arrive too late to save him. Terrified and so, so angry. The thought of losing her Warrior when she had only just found him made her want to scream and rage. Particularly at Jack for doing something so damn foolish.

He could have been killed. So very easily.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the time to introduce the elixir and the rest of the story to him. To convince him of the truth and take the elixir. For one thing, there was no time for the arguments and yelling that would surely ensue. For another, Jack needed to heal—body and soul. His heart was heavy from his perceived failure to negotiate a peace treaty for his tribe, and his body was a mess of injuries. He was not in the right frame of mind to listen.

But she would find the time on their journey to Boston. It was too important for her to put it off any longer. She needed him.

For now, though, she would allow him to rest.

As her thoughts continued to whirl and spin, she stayed by Jack’s side, continuing to soothe him until he eventually fell asleep.