Chapter 59: Grace

It took me a while to figure out that the big, young woman with the long legs and wild hair was in charge of the place and that the man I mistook for the inn-keeper was just one of her employees. She was well past being sturdy, nearly six feet high in her thick-heeled boots and easily twelve stone. She wore plain, country clothes with no decoration and her full, firm body moved freely beneath them like some sort of caged animal. She had heavy thighs, wide hips and full breasts, a firm jaw and a hawk nose.

Nobody was likely to call her pretty, but she surely was strong, fiercely strong. I wanted her almost at once and could imagine her perched on my horn and begging for more.

When business slowed, I grabbed her haunch as she passed and she turned on me, swinging a wild right. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her down beside me. "This here is all yours, ain' it?" I asked as my smile calmed her a bit. I still held her wrist firmly and enjoyed the warmth of her nearness.

She nodded, and I introduced myself and told her my mission in a general way while my hands busied themselves.

"Mmpf," she snorted, looking away but not trying to leave with my paw cupping her large dug. "My brother is a captain in the Jersey militia, the loyal militia, and I got an uncle who works for the commissary in the city. Maybe you ought to have a talk with thrm."

"Interesting," I said, releasing her arm. She rubbed her wrist and held my gaze. Her eyes was brown and her eyebrows thick and dark.

"We're just trying to keep an eye on them," I said. "Figure out what they plan to do next."

She chuckled and pulled her dress higher on her shoulder to cover her half-exposed mound. She certainly was not wearing stays. "They plan to run you back into the hills and make foxy George dance on the end of rope," she said. "Any fool can see that."

"We thought Howe might move on Philadelphia," I said, draining my beer. She waved and two more appeared, and she did not seem to my hand on her leg.

"He might, might do both at the same time," she said, her hip touching mine. "He's got men coming in all the time, Germans as well as foot companies from Canada."

"You willing to help us, keep your ears open?"

"No," she said. "I don't give a damn about this stupid war. Hope it ends soon. Good men are out there getting themselves killed, both sides."

I nodded agreement to that.

"How long have you run this place?" I asked.

"Since my father died and my man run off," she said. "Went west, he did, took most of our savings with him."

"When was that?"

"Year, no, year and half now," she said, making a sour face.

That answer peaked my interest and stirred my groin. I put my hand on her thick thigh. "Anything you miss?" I asked.

"Nope," she said, removing my paw. "I can do without." She gave me a good smile and rose to take care of a stagecoach full of customers who were just coming in. I moved around, buying a beer or two and doing some listening, and pretty soon it was closing time, dark and chilly.

"You got a bed I can rent?" I asked the woman as she put chairs up on tables so the man could sweep.

"I been thinking," she said.

I held my peace.

"Might be I could use a man," she said quietly, almost a whisper. "We could talk about some things."

"Talk?" I said, helping with the chairs.

She smiled. "My room's at the left at the top of the steps over there. I'll be right along."

I almost ran up the stairs but then decided it might be better if I kept my britches on a while longer. So I sat on her chair, crossed my legs and waited. I did not have to wait long. A lean, young man with flapping coattails, high boots and a pistol in his waist came in with the woman right behind him.

"This's my brother Matthew," she said with a grin as I stood and took the man's outstretched hand. We tested each other a bit as the woman sat on her bed and her brother sat beside her. She was a bit bigger than he.

"Understand you work for the enemy," Matthew said.

"Depends on how you see the world," I said.

He nodded. "These Germans are turning my stomach."

"Enough to make a dog sick," I said, and he nodded again.

"I think I'd like to join you, the rebels I mean," he said.

I waited, watching the woman more than the man.

"Few of my men might come along. I'm called a lieutenant these days."

"You'd all be welcome, I'm sure," I said. "When?"

"Right now," he said.

"Best wait to morning," I suggested. "I don't care to be out riding at night if I can help it."

"At least come meet them," He said, standing. "It's not far. We can walk."

"Jersey men?" I asked.

"Mostly," he said. The woman stood beside her brother and put her hand on his arm. "We won't be long," he said to her.

I followed him down the stairs, out of the inn and a mile or so up the worn road to a small encampment. A fire smoldered and a sentry appeared from behind a tree as we approached. Matthew said a word to him, and we proceeded into the camp where he stirred up the fire and put on some more sticks.

Several men crawled out of their tents and stood about looking at us. "Give me your belt," Matthew said, his pistol an inch from my stomach. I unbuckled and handed him my bayonet, cartridge box and heavy belt. "Put your hands behind you," he said quietly, and another man came and tied my wrists together. "My sister is a fool," the young man said, poking me with his weapon. "Sit."

I sat, crossed legged. There appeared to be six of them in addition to Matthew, hard-looking men. The woman's brother may have been the youngest of the bunch.

"There's a price on your head," Matthew said. "We're going to share it, ten pounds. But they do want you alive and talking."

"Don't have much to say," I offered as the knots were pulled tight, cutting my wrists.

"You will," he said with a nasty smile. Two men dragged me back to a tree, sat me down at its base and wrapped a rope under my chin twice and around the thick trunk. The camp settled quickly, the sentry was relieved and soon the men were asleep. I worked on my ropes diligently, rubbing my wrists against the bark and squirming my head sideways and down until the rope was in my mouth. The sentry came back, put another piece of wood on the fire, glanced at me and shuffled out of sight.

I worked my way to the side of the tree, gave up trying the chew my way out about the time the moon rose, but finally, at the cost of a bit of skin and a sore ear, squirmed my head loose. I got to my knees and crawled off into the woods as quietly as I could, my hands still bound behind me.

Once away from the glow of the sputtering fire, I stood and walked bent over deeper into the forest, hoping to find a stone outcropping to slice my hands free upon. I had not gone very far before I heard a outcry behind me which I deciphered as "He's gone!"

Running in the woods at night is not very intelligent, but there was a sliver of a moon as well as some animal trails so I headed downhill, hoping to find water, pushing branches aside with my face and shoulders. I guess I was being pretty noisy because I soon heard people crashing through the underbrush behind me. I found a big tree and stood beside it, trying to control my panting.

The men who were looking for me were steadily cursing and calling to each other. Soon one was near enough that I could smell him. He walked past my tree, bayonet tipped musket before him and I drove my head and shoulder into his back, lifted him off his feet and dumped him on his face. He rolled over just as I pounced on him, butted him in the face and kneed him in the groin. He swung at me wildly as I scrambled up and kicked him, first in the ribs and then in the side of the head. That quieted him.