Revolutionary Hearts

Revolutionary Hearts: Part Eight

 June 11, 1780

My bare feet moved silently over the earth, my hands holding my skirt high to keep it from rustling the brambles. I hardly dared breathe as I moved through our yard, past the gardens and towards the dirt road that led through our land and into town.

Upon reaching it, I looked hesitantly over my shoulder. I could just see the flicker of candlelight through the windows of my home. Every room seemed to be lit but mine. I had extinguished every flame, locked my door, and climbed out onto the tree whose branches pressed against the house and spiraled towards the heavens.

My decent had not been easy, my dress and petticoat snagging on every available twig, but I’d made it with only minor scratches to my arms and legs. A soft breeze was blowing as I hit the ground, soothing the sting of the cuts and easing the oppressive heat of summer in South Carolina.

It blew the curls from my face as I turned from my home and stepped further into the blinding darkness. A thick cover of clouds hid the light of the moon, so I moved forward on memory alone.

The trek was long and nerve wracking. I was convinced that each snapping twig was father come to scorn me and haul me back. At some point I realized with a start that he frightened me now when he never had before.  I knew he would never truly harm me, but as I imagined what he would do to Daniel if he found him before I did…

My heartbeat drummed in my ears as I began to run through the night. Falling over myself and causing earnest damage to my palms, I clambered to my feet and took flight again. I must have been a complete wreck when the clouds finally broke and revealed the arching tree’s silhouette on the horizon.

Daniel’s voice was harsh and worried as he called out my name.

I flung myself against him, knocking the wind from his lungs and rendering him speechless. His left hand tightened around my waist as his right moved to brush the tears from my eyes.

I hadn’t been aware that I was crying…

“Tara!” he gasped. “What happened?”

I simply buried my face against his chest, sobbing irrationally.

He leaned back against the tree, his bad leg beginning to shake beneath my weight. “Perhaps we could sit down?” he asked softly.

I stepped back, nodding and helping him ease to the ground as I fought to control my shuddering breath. “I was so worried about you… My… My father –”

He pulled me against him and hesitantly kissed my forehead. “Is that was this is about?” he sighed, his relief at my words tarnished by something I couldn’t identify.  “I’m fine, Sweetheart…”

I smiled faintly, scrubbing my eyes with the backs of my hands.

When he spoke next, the words were more apprehensive than I’d come to expect from him. “So you aren’t angry with me any more?”

I faltered. “Angry…?” Had I been angry? I couldn’t seem to remember anything beyond the three words he’d written me. ‘I love you.’

The smile faded from my lips as he nodded and took my hands in his. “Furious, actually…” He began to examine the gashes that marred my palms. Seeming to embrace the distraction, he took a handkerchief from his pocket, tore it in two, and began to wrap my wounds.  “This morning you would hardly speak to me. I wasn’t even sure you’d come here… “ He tied off the final bandage, but his eyes remained on my hands as he waited for me to speak. When I didn’t, he reluctantly met my stare. “I hurt you,” he said simply, painfully, “and I’ve had all day to reflect upon and regret the damage that I’ve done…”