riders circled the comfortable and quiet-looking frame house and dismounted. What looked like a candle shone through an open window. Funny, Sarah thought, I don’t remember seeing that candle before, but it does make it look like the house is occupied. She wondered if that was the distraction he mentioned? If so, it wasn’t much of one. As she watched, the men smashed down the front door and rushed inside.
Uncle Wilford swore and then smiled with a cold fury. “The bastards. But now watch.”
A moment later, the soft glow in the window became much brighter and, suddenly, flames erupted from the house. Wilford chuckled harshly.
“I rigged the oil lamps to spill if someone tried to come in through the doors. If I can’t have the house, then no would-be Tory thief’s going to get it either.”
An explosion lit the night and men tumbled from her uncle’s home. At least two of them were on fire and writhing on the ground, screaming at the top of their lungs. Others grabbed buckets from the well and doused the burning men while the house was quickly consumed. Sarah and the others hoped that one of the men burning was Sheriff Braxton or the thief of a Tory who had come to rob them. Wilford thought it likely that one was indeed Braxton. For all his faults, Braxton wasn’t a coward and he would have led his men inside. One of the burning men was being ignored and obviously dead, while the other was frantically being treated by his companions.
Sarah smiled grimly as they mounted their horses. She was confident that no one would chase them this night. Even Faith looked pleased. The war against the English was not over.
* * *
Will Drake found his Connecticut property easily enough, but he didn’t particularly like what he saw. Instead of a neat, clean, well-painted, and tidy house and barn, the main building was almost a ruin and the barn looked like it would fall over in a mild breeze. He had lived there until the end of his boyhood and had fond memories of the house and his family. Now, it looked like a shell, a mausoleum, and a tawdry one at that.
Worse was the presence of Francis and Winnie Holden, his cousins. They had never been close and Will had always suspected them of Tory leanings. Their presence on the property reinforced it—otherwise how would they have gotten the property that was rightfully Will’s?
They were thoroughly surprised to see him, but greeted him cordially enough. Will looked in their eyes and could see it was all superficial. Their eyes were cold and wary, even fearful. They wondered why he had come, and what he wanted.
“I know you’re surprised to see us living here,” Winnie said nervously. She and her husband were obviously not thrilled at Will’s unexpected arrival. “But we bought the place at a government sale. It’d been seized for nonpayment of taxes after it was abandoned. I can’t imagine you’d be displeased. After all, it’s staying in the family.”
“Of course not,” Will said evenly and with great effort. They were in the small kitchen eating some kind of stew prepared by Winnie who, in Will’s opinion, should have let someone else cook. Still, it was food, and he wasn’t that far from his days in the Suffolk to pass up a meal.
“We had no idea what’d happened to you,” Francis said. “It was as if you’d dropped off the face of the earth. Heard rumors, though, that you were in a British prison.”
“I was for a bit, but they let me go,” Will lied.
“But I heard they were still keeping officers.” Winnie said.
Will forced a laugh. “I wasn’t an officer when the war ended. I got broken to the ranks for hitting a man senior to me. The man was a coward and I damn near killed him.”
It was yet another lie, but he didn’t trust his cousins, and was beginning to regret coming. He didn’t doubt that they’d gobbled up the property for far less than what it was worth, and he didn’t doubt they feared his presence as a potential claimant on what
Uncle Wilford swore and then smiled with a cold fury. “The bastards. But now watch.”
A moment later, the soft glow in the window became much brighter and, suddenly, flames erupted from the house. Wilford chuckled harshly.
“I rigged the oil lamps to spill if someone tried to come in through the doors. If I can’t have the house, then no would-be Tory thief’s going to get it either.”
An explosion lit the night and men tumbled from her uncle’s home. At least two of them were on fire and writhing on the ground, screaming at the top of their lungs. Others grabbed buckets from the well and doused the burning men while the house was quickly consumed. Sarah and the others hoped that one of the men burning was Sheriff Braxton or the thief of a Tory who had come to rob them. Wilford thought it likely that one was indeed Braxton. For all his faults, Braxton wasn’t a coward and he would have led his men inside. One of the burning men was being ignored and obviously dead, while the other was frantically being treated by his companions.
Sarah smiled grimly as they mounted their horses. She was confident that no one would chase them this night. Even Faith looked pleased. The war against the English was not over.
* * *
Will Drake found his Connecticut property easily enough, but he didn’t particularly like what he saw. Instead of a neat, clean, well-painted, and tidy house and barn, the main building was almost a ruin and the barn looked like it would fall over in a mild breeze. He had lived there until the end of his boyhood and had fond memories of the house and his family. Now, it looked like a shell, a mausoleum, and a tawdry one at that.
Worse was the presence of Francis and Winnie Holden, his cousins. They had never been close and Will had always suspected them of Tory leanings. Their presence on the property reinforced it—otherwise how would they have gotten the property that was rightfully Will’s?
They were thoroughly surprised to see him, but greeted him cordially enough. Will looked in their eyes and could see it was all superficial. Their eyes were cold and wary, even fearful. They wondered why he had come, and what he wanted.
“I know you’re surprised to see us living here,” Winnie said nervously. She and her husband were obviously not thrilled at Will’s unexpected arrival. “But we bought the place at a government sale. It’d been seized for nonpayment of taxes after it was abandoned. I can’t imagine you’d be displeased. After all, it’s staying in the family.”
“Of course not,” Will said evenly and with great effort. They were in the small kitchen eating some kind of stew prepared by Winnie who, in Will’s opinion, should have let someone else cook. Still, it was food, and he wasn’t that far from his days in the Suffolk to pass up a meal.
“We had no idea what’d happened to you,” Francis said. “It was as if you’d dropped off the face of the earth. Heard rumors, though, that you were in a British prison.”
“I was for a bit, but they let me go,” Will lied.
“But I heard they were still keeping officers.” Winnie said.
Will forced a laugh. “I wasn’t an officer when the war ended. I got broken to the ranks for hitting a man senior to me. The man was a coward and I damn near killed him.”
It was yet another lie, but he didn’t trust his cousins, and was beginning to regret coming. He didn’t doubt that they’d gobbled up the property for far less than what it was worth, and he didn’t doubt they feared his presence as a potential claimant on what
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