The British Are Coming

Part 9: A Place at the Table

"What a divine evening for a call!" the Colonel declared, entering your home as soon as the door gave way.  You smiled politely, catching Thomas in the corner of your eye.  He stood there so pristinely, hat back on his handsome head, not a stitch out of place.  He saluted Colonel Osterfield.

"Colonel," he acknowledged him simply.  The Colonel gave a curious tick of his head, eyes traveling to his rank.

"Lieutenant," the Colonel gave a curious nod of his head at his inferior.  His cold blue eyes caught yours with question.  Your nerve tried to best you, but you were practiced at keeping things calm with the Colonel.

"I'm so glad you came to call.  The lieutenant here is nearly back to form.  We're so lucky to have found him when we did lest he would have succumbed to his wounds. Thank goodness for my late husband's training.  I did the best that I could but I believe he has fully recovered and can aid his majesty once more."  You finished with a slight pinch of breath but hopefully, the Colonel didn't notice.

Thomas waited to speak until spoken to.

"Is that right, Lieutenant? Did she help you back to health? We are so fortunate to have such a steadfast loyalist in these parts."

Thomas nodded curtly.

"Yes, Colonel.  She has given me the utmost care and I am grateful to serve his majesty once more," his tone was steady and concise, as any soldier would be, you supposed. 

"Splendid!  Who is your commanding captain?"

"Barrett, sir."

"Very well, I shall see that Barrett has no need for you anymore.  You will join my infantry."

Thomas gave a quick lick of his lips. His eyes fleetingly shot to yours.

"Sir?" he questioned.

"No soldier under my lead is going to be sacked with such an ass as Barrett," the Colonel chortled, making himself at home right at your table.  Sitting back in the chair, he propped his muddy boots up on the edge, unbuttoning his jacket.  You coached yourself to not show your displeasure.  The Colonel never showed any respect for your home before. Today was no different.

"Cora, please," he arrogantly motioned to the kettle in the middle of the table. Thomas noticeably stiffened.  You bit the inside of your cheek, and grabbed the handle without a word.

Angrily, your feet carried you down the steps towards your well. The sky was dimly lit and ashen from an impending storm.  Inside, you saw the two male figures conversing at your table. Thomas kept a blank face, nodding in affirmation of whatever his ranking officer said to him. You supposed that was the usual, mindlessly accepting orders.

The kettle was filled to the brim but you didn't move. An encroaching awareness seemed to stall you. This was the end, wasn't it? Thomas was healed. Nothing was stopping him from returning to his duty.  And the Colonel wanted to take him under his wing. Everything would return back to normal.

But what is normal anymore - fretting every day about what to say and how to act? Walking that line between worlds, just so you can keep your family safe.  Agonizing over the well being of your loved ones, Samuel, Sadie, and especially George who was on the front lines. No, you didn't want normal. You wanted to be back in his arms. You knew that now. The undeniable truth showered over you like a summer rain, drenching your heart with an overwhelming devotion.

"No need, my beauty," the Colonel waved at the kettle as he sauntered down your steps, Thomas following.  You white knuckled the handle, relieved to see him go but wary of what transpired.  He came upon you and pinched your chin, forcing your face to his. His fingers dug harder than necessary and his eyes gave a dark trace.