Chapter 67
Hattie
After lunch the next day, I do my best to keep up with Charlie as she does chores around the property. I’m trying to help, but right now, all I can do is watch in awe as she shoes one of the horses. With each meticulous step of the process, her expression remains calm and thoughtful.
“You do that well,” I tell her.
She looks up briefly before turning her gaze back to her work. “I’ve been doing it for many years, since I was eight or so, with help, of course.”
“Eight?” I don’t remember what I was doing at that age, but I know it wasn’t handling a thousand pound animal.
“With some assistance, yes,” she replies.
She continues hammering the shoe on as I watch. It’s no wonder these people crave their independence. That fighting spirit is built into their DNA. It makes me reconsider the knowledge I’ve been withholding. Should I tell her about Eric’s fate in the battle a few days away? I’ve gone back and forth on it a million times. If I do, maybe if we put our heads together, we can come up with a way to keep him safe. But then again, maybe she’ll decide to put herself in harm’s way, and the Monroe and Thomas families will mourn her instead of Eric.
And I still want to go home. Maybe now that the well is complete, I should just jump in and see if it gets me there. But if it does, I’ll never see Eric again, and I’ll never get a chance to really get to know him. I’d miss Charlie and her family—my family—terribly.
Once done, she secures the horse in its stall and looks at me. “I’m finished until tomorrow,” she says. “We can do something fun now.”
“What do you do for fun?” I ask.
“Would you like to go swimming?” The mischievous grin on her face nearly has me giggling.
“That sounds amazing,” I say instead. “It’s so hot today.” I pause for a moment and consider the logistics of swimming in my long gown. “What will we wear?”
She grins at me, her eyes bright and playful. “You’ll see. Follow me.”
She takes me straight from the stables to the back of the property and into the woods. I didn’t have time to explore this part in 2025, though Mom had talked about a small creek in the forest. But the rushing water in front of me is hardly a small creek. It’s several feet deep and flows into a small pool that collects under a canopy of trees.
“This is beautiful,” I tell her.
She nods enthusiastically. “This is my favorite place to swim,” she explains, slipping out of her dress, folding it, and setting it on the grass. I follow her lead, and soon, we have everything off except our shifts. She runs for the water, splashing in a few feet before jumping up and diving under.
I need no convincing, following her and wading in until it’s deep enough to dive under. Resurfacing, a refreshing chill rushes over me, and I flip my wet hair back, lifting my eyes to the canopy above. I lean back to float on my back, watching the leaves rustle on the branches above me while Charlie splashes around on the other side of the creek.
“It’s too hot,” a young male voice complains from somewhere behind the trees.
Charlie freezes, whispering, “Did you hear that?”
I glide toward the shore where I can get my footing, “I did.” I whisper.
“Someone approaches,” she says. “Hurry.”
We jump out of the creek and run around to our piles of clothes by the trees. There’s no time to lace up corsets, so we throw on our dresses over our wet shifts. She tosses the corsets and petticoats behind the nearest bush, just in time to see Eric and two young boys step through the trees.
“Oh, it’s only you,” Charlie says to the group, shaking her head. In an instant, she slips off her dress again and jumps into the water.
But I feel frozen in place by those now-familiar flutters in my stomach.
“Good afternoon, Miss Miller,” Eric says. He keeps his eyes on mine without a glance at my wet dress. “It seems we all had the same idea.”
“Can we go in?” one of the boys begs him.
Eric turns to him, breaking our gaze. “Yes, after you’ve said hello to the Monroes’ guest, Miss Miller.”
“Hello, Miss Miller,” the young boys say in unison, already out of most of their clothes before they even finish saying my name.
“Hello, boys,” I greet them.
“Please excuse my brothers,” Eric says, and I turn back to him. “I’m afraid they cannot resist cool water on a hot summer day.”
“It’s all right,” I assure him, my voice an octave higher than I intend. “What are their names?”
“The dark-haired one is Willie,” he explains. “He’s eight, and quite rude, I’m finding.” His lips rise in a slight grin, and I’m glad to finally see that relaxed look in his deep brown eyes. “The blond-haired one is Luke,” he adds. “He’s six, so he has an excuse.”
“I suppose the world is full of wonder at six,” I tell him. “I can’t blame either of them for wanting to be in the water. It’s very refreshing.”
“Please, don’t let me keep you from enjoying it,” he says.
I feel a twinge of heat rising in my cheeks. I can’t take my dress off with him standing here, even though my shift is far more clothes than I’d usually wear swimming. “It’s all right. I just needed a quick dip to cool off.”
He nods softly, turning his eyes to the boys in the water.
“One, two… three!” Charlie’s countdown draws my attention as well, and I watch as the boys race each other across the pond.
“Charlie is quite easy to love, isn’t she?” I ask.
Eric nods, his eyes focused on the contest. “She is.”
“I have a feeling that’s not the way everyone feels about her uniqueness.”
“Sadly, no.” He turns to me. “I’m afraid many of the ladies in town trouble Mrs. Monroe about ‘controlling her daughter.’ They insist it’s unladylike to play games with boys.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I insist. “Everyone has a right to be themselves, to be happy.”
He turns to me. “I agree. And so do the Monroes.”
Taking a seat on the shore, I turn back to the water, where Charlie and the boys have already started on another game that involves skipping rocks. Eric settles nearby. “She’s at home with you and your brothers. It’s as if you are an extension of her own family.”
“Precisely,” he says. “Our families have lived on this land since before we were born. I cannot recall ever actually meeting her brother John. He has simply been there, always.”
“You two are very close.”
“We are like brothers,” he confirms.
We fall into a comfortable silence, just watching Charlie and the boys play in the water. Birds chatter in the trees above us. The scent of lilac reaches us with the gentle breeze that chills me lightly through my still-wet hair. I think of all the questions I had for Eric before I came here, when he was, to me, just a ghost of a man who built a charming cottage in the woods.
“Was it your parents who made their way to the colonies?” I ask after a while.
He shakes his head. “My father arrived when he was very young,” he explains. “And my mother was born here, so it was my grandparents on both sides who made the journey.”
“That’s very brave of them.”
“It was,” he agrees. “Grandfather Thomas often told the stories of their passage across the ocean. My father was four years old at the time, and his sister was three. His mother was with child.”
I can’t even imagine crossing the ocean in those days, much less doing it pregnant and with young kids. “I would love to hear his stories,” I tell him.
“Unfortunately, he passed years ago,” he says sadly. “But I remember every story he ever told. I hope to tell them to my own children one day, in the house I’ve built.”
My heart sinks at the thought of his death in the war, and I pause for a moment. “I’m sure your future family will love to hear them.” Maybe I will save him, and he can have that future.
“I hope so,” he says quietly.
“When did your parents—” I begin, but Charlie’s voice cuts me off.
“Luke?” There’s something in her voice I’ve never heard from her before, an uncertainty, bordering on panic. “Luke!” she repeats. This time it’s a shriek, the kind that makes my blood run cold, a sound I’d heard too many times before from my lifeguard tower back home.
Eric and I step forward, scanning the water. Willie stands frozen near the bank closest to us.
I don’t see Luke.
“What’s happening?” Eric demands.
“Luke! Luke!” Charlie screams again, splashing in the water as if she could move it aside to look under it.
“I don’t see him,” I tell Eric, looking for the telltale signs of someone in trouble in the water, but all I see is Charlie’s splashing.
“Neither do I.” His eyes lock on the water, darkening with concern.
Eric and I sprint toward the creek. He gets there first, diving in without hesitation. A chill washes over me as the pool of water closes in behind him.
“Willie, come over here,” I call out. Luckily, he listens to me and wades out of the water. I wrap my arm around his shivering body. He’s clearly in shock.
I lock my eyes on the place where Eric jumped in and start counting down the seconds as my heart thumps wildly. Time draws out as the seconds turn into minutes.
He doesn’t come up for air.
“Charlie, come here!” My call meets deaf ears. Wide eyed and panicked, she keeps screaming Luke’s name, but at least she is standing in the shallow part. If she stays put, she shouldn’t be in Eric’s way.
I scan the water again and see a swirl where Eric must be underwater. He’s approaching the time limit where even the best swimmers run out of breath, but he’s not resurfacing.
He’s risking his own life to save Luke.
A shiver creeps up my spine, and I realize this might be why Eric will die in battle—he will be protecting someone he cares about. Yes, he’s willing to give his life for the colony’s independence, but there’s a deeper cause that drives him. He’s not capable of turning his back on someone he loves for his own life or comfort. His older brothers will be there beside him, and his best friend John.
He's going to protect them all. My breath catches in my throat, and I hold Willie a little tighter.
I keep my eyes on the water. Unless Eric has trained for this, he won’t be able to hold his breath much longer. I doubt he will come up without Luke.
Just as I’m thinking about jumping in, a wild splash shoots straight up as Eric surfaces, holding Luke in his arms. I exhale with relief until I see the boy’s condition—limp and lifeless.
“Bring him here!” I shout, loosening my grip on Willie. “Stay right here,” I tell the boy, and he nods, his eyes wide with fear.
Eric doesn’t hesitate, not even to catch his own breath, swimming to the shore then running as soon as his feet can touch the creek bed.
“Lay him down.” I nod toward a grassy area, and Eric sets his brother down quickly yet gently, with a look of desperation I haven’t seen in him before. But as he gazes at his brother, darkness surfaces in his eyes. I realize none of them have heard of CPR in 1775.
He thinks his brother is dead and that nothing can help him.
“Move!” I tell him, trying to break through Eric’s grief so I can start working on the boy. Eric has given everything in him to save his brother, and now, it’s up to me.
I just pray it’s not too late.