Another Night Falls Page 3

  “It is what I heard,” Sumner acknowledged, the warning clear in the visitor’s voice. “Know I value what’s mine.”

  Henley glanced around the property. The barn door was shut tight, but if anyone went near the barn and horses...

  “Did ya work on the place before ya bought it?”

  Sumner hesitated, noticing the place looked in pretty good shape for having been abandoned for over six months. Nothing he could do about it now. He answered, “Bought it as is.”

  Henley mulled over the news. A pained expression flashed across his face. “Damn. N’ver thought about this place,” he said under his breath and then turned back to Sumner. “Farley, it may well be that your home was used by a fugitive of sorts.”

  Sumner shrugged. “If it was, it ain’t now.”

  “Shame didn’t think of this sooner. Been scouring the countryside for this girl. Bad sort. Wanted for shooting a man and horse stealing.”

  “Why are you worried about some girl?”

  “’Cause Benny said so!”

  Sumner saw the man’s expression change to anger. Without a doubt, Henley used the name as a warning. “You can be assured you will be the first to know if I see some strange girl wondering around the woods. I want no trouble, girl or otherwise. But if I had someone looking for me, I wouldn’t be staying around in the area.”

  “How can ya figure how a woman thinks? She’s from here and don’t know anything else I would imagine. If you see a pretty little thing with dark hair and eyes, let Benny know and he’ll be grateful and that ain’t a bad thing.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Sumner looked up and caught sight of a wagon coming up the road. “Well, it seems my supplies are here.”

  “It seems so.” Henley nodded. “I’m certain we will be seeing a lot of each other. Have a good day, neighbor.”

  Sumner watched the men ride away, tipping their hats as they passed Warren. Sumner slowly eased his hold on his gun and watched Warren until he pulled the wagon to a stop by the front steps.

  “What did they want?” Warren asked, easing his grip on the reins.

  “To feel me out, mostly. See which side I hold to. It is no matter. They seemed more concerned about finding a girl than what is going on with the war.”

  “I told you, Sumner, everything has changed around here. Remember when life was simple? Rising up for our rights? Now, it’s a bloody mess.”

  “What has happened? Why would a mere girl be such a pressing issue to the likes of them?”

  Warren jumped down off the buckboard. “Hopefully, she’s long gone from here. Her name is Jane Kilmer. It was her family Graydon spoke of...the one that got wiped out. Bloody Benny killed her family in front of her, but it wasn’t until the last few months that he’s been diligently looking for her. Heard she stole his favorite horse. He loved that horse.”

  “But what caused the rampage to begin with?”

  “Mainly, the opportunity for revenge,” Warren said. “You remember Frederick Stanton. He served with Benny in the ninety-six at the beginning of the war...before Benny turned. Stanton was Benny’s commanding officer, the one that ordered Benny’s flogging when he fell asleep at his post.”

  Sumner remembered the incident. It had cost lives. “So, Benny lashed out at his old commander?”

  Warren nodded. “The riders descended like a storm on the horizon. Stanton was in his garden. They cut him down where he stood...into pieces.”

  “Open season on any Patriot?”

  “Only those whom they held a grudge against. The Kilmers were Loyalists. The old man lost both his sons in Indian attacks, leaving him with four grandchildren to raise, three boys and a girl, Jane.”

  “What did Bloody Benny have against them?”

  “It’s the way things are now with the British in control. It began I suppose with a skirmish along Mallard Creek. Some of the boys retreated as far back as here, running from Tarleton. I heard it said that the Kilmers gave shelter to a couple of kids from over the mountains, the Boles brothers.”

  Sumner’s eyebrows shot up. “Williamson’s gang destroyed a family because they gave shelter?

  “Death has come to others for a lot less, but if you ask me, it had more to do with Shelia Massey. The oldest grandson, Troy, was engaged to the girl, a girl Henley had a thing for...Shelia turned Henley down flat. Believe Henley was the cause for the raid against the Kilmers.”

  Looking up, Sumner saw Jane in the window, a haunted look in her eyes. He turned back to Warren. “What of the girl? What do you know about her?”

  “Not much. She kept to herself mostly, caring for her grandfather. In the last few years, he had become an invalid. After the raid, she was found in the smoldering ashes with what was left of her family. Horrid scene. Hacked up bodies. Blood everywhere.”

  “And they just left her there...”

  At that point, Warren stopped in his tracks. “Why all the questions? It happened months ago. Does it have to do with our mission?”

  Sumner nodded toward the window. “Last night, I discovered I have a house guest. The question now lies upon what to do with her.”

  * * * *

  Jane watched the exchange. She had prepared to travel, taken the time to dress appropriately, put back on her white shift which had dulled under wear and washes, over which she wore her faded blue gown. She pulled back her hair the best she could under a white cap and put on her leather tie-up shoes.

  At the least, she thought herself prepared until she had seen the visitors. Her hands still trembled from the sight of the men. Now, she wondered what Sumner was doing talking to Warren Parker. From the looks of things, trying to get rid of me.

  She knew who Warren Parker was. Most did in these parts with him owning the only general store for miles. She knew his wife Melissa more as an acquaintance. Not a friend. Jane hadn’t any close friends growing up. Her life had been her family, consumed by her grandfather, brother and cousins’ needs.

  Jane was painfully shy and lacking in confidence and social skills needed to make friends. The last few years, her grandfather rarely got out of bed, and Jane had taken on the responsibilities of running the household.

  More than once, Troy had prodded her to become more social. “You need to create a life for yourself, Jane. Shelia says she knows you would have beaus a-plenty if you made an effort and didn’t hide every time a suitor came to visit.”

  What Troy hadn’t realized—she had long dreamed of love and having a family of her own. She fantasized that her love would ride up to the farm, stare into her eyes with a dashing smile that would set her heart aflutter. He would love her at first sight without saying a word...but that was all it was—a fantasy.

  Instead of her dream man riding up to sweep her off her feet, a nightmare descended of which she had yet to wake. Seeing those men had brought back her fear all so clearly...too clearly. The screams and cries echoed around her; she could feel the warm, life blood oozing out of those she loved while she cradled their bodies to her bosom. The soulless creatures had so cruelly destroyed life as she had known it.

  She often wondered why they had left her alive. She had pleaded for mercy, but for her grandfather, Troy, and her cousins. Why? What had they done to deserve such a fate?

  Her grandfather cared for any who had need. Only weeks before, had she not cared for one of the Williamson brothers who had been injured and left to die alongside of the road?

  Her grandfather taught her to have mercy to all living things. “God created us all. It is not within our rights to take from the Almighty, but to preserve life.”

  Now, she questioned all she once believed. She had no desire for human contact again until he had come. She had never met one like him before...so confident, so alive...so handsome. She didn’t know what was wrong with her, but she kept remembering his lips on hers.

  From the walkway, Sumner caught her eye. She was under no illusion about the way he felt about her. Troy had warned her not to be alone with a man, but he
wasn’t here now to protect her.

  The realization that she was alone, so totally alone in the world, swept through her with such sadness. She didn’t know what she was going to do, where she was going to go. Her heart sank...Sumner gestured for her to join him.

  Jane stood motionless and stared at the backdoor. The thought of running out that way occurred to her. She didn’t want to be handed off in this manner, as if she was one of the boxes they were unloading.

  “Jane.”

  Sumner’s voice resonated. She hesitated and the door opened. He stood in the doorway with his arm pressing back the door for her to exit.

  “Jane,” he repeated. “Can you come outside? It is safe. The men are gone. I want you to meet Warren.”

  She looked at Sumner questionably, but then complied. She hadn’t a choice. Walking out on the porch, she immediately felt Warren’s eyes upon her, looking at her as if he couldn’t believe she was alive.

  “It is good to see you, Jane. We had feared the worst,” Warren said, stepping towards her.

  She recoiled back and felt Sumner’s hand on her waist, guiding her forward. Suddenly, she felt nervous...the way Warren looked at her. Her gaze flickered back to Warren, then Sumner. Panic set in. She had to get away.

  Scurrying down the steps, she passed Warren and hurried toward the barn. She didn’t get far before a strong arm gripped hers, whirling her around.

  “What is the matter with you?” Sumner asked. “Warren can help you. I promised you I would settle you in a safe place.”

  Lowering her gaze, she said, “I can’t. I can’t go with him. Can you not understand it is best if I just ride out of here?”

  “Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder and drag you back into the house. Warren, help me here. Tell this stubborn woman if she leaves now, those men will without a doubt find her.”

  “I would not be so stupid as to ride on the open road. Do you not think I know these woods...the back paths?” She glared at him.

  “Why would you attempt to go without money, supplies or a place to go?”

  “For it’s my fate!” she declared hotly, her long suppressed ire expelled. “Now, release me.”

  Sumner refused. Instead, he pressed his friend, “Warren, tell her that you will take her back with you and send her somewhere safe. You must have family somewhere that she could go to.”

  Warren hesitated before answering. “Sumner, she would not be safe anywhere in the region, nor would any family that took her in. You don’t realize the fear the mere mention of the Williamson gang inflicts. They have stayed in the vicinity without worry of repercussions. Moreover, they have made it clear even to you that they want this girl.”

  “Are you a coward?” Sumner asked, stiffly.

  “A coward? For myself, never, but I have a family, a wife and two small children. Give me time. I will try to see what I can do, but, Sumner, you have a far longer reach than I. Surely, you must know of someone that could help.”

  Confused, Jane stared at the man that held her. Who could a mountain man possibly know that could help her? She shook her head adamantly. “I won’t put anyone in harm’s way. I will leave by a back trial to my home or what is left of it. There, I will follow along the creek until I come to Columbia.”

  Warren shook his head. “I’m afraid that might not be the wisest move. Your land has already been claimed by a Loyalist family, the Calhouns. Their home was burnt to the ground a couple of years ago by Patriot raiders. It is a sad fact that there are those on both sides that have used this war for their own advantage.”

  Her home was gone...someone had stolen the land. All that had been known to her was lost, the slim hope of returning to her home, rebuilding in some manner, was gone.

  Jane gasped for air. Her head spun; her stomach churned. She clutched Sumner’s arm and made no protest when he wrapped his arms about her. Turning her head into his shoulder, she wept.

  * * * *

  Sumner wasn’t happy. He walked back to the porch after he calmed Jane and placed her back in bed. He sat down on the front step beside Warren, rubbing his tired eyes. Complications. Damn it. He didn’t have time for this.

  “You are right, Warren. I will send a note to Israel, but it will take time. What am I supposed to do with her until then?”

  “Keep her here, I suppose. The Kilmers were good Christian people. They never turned away anyone who needed help. Troy was a good friend,” Warren said solemnly. “I will help in any way I can, but with my family, it would be suicide if I helped outright. I will see that your note is delivered in haste.”

  Sumner said nothing for a moment. The life he had known was a distant memory. In his youth, he had worked hard to be a gentleman such as his father. He had been born the bastard son of English nobility, governor of Antigua, Governor John Rolf Blankenship. His mother had been a half-breed, fitting into neither world, Cherokee nor white. His father set her up on this farm almost thirty years ago. This was where he had been born, but in honesty, he remembered nothing about the place, having moved into Elm Bluff as a child.

  How he loved Elm Bluff, one of the three plantations his father owned outside of Charles Town. Sumner had overseen the lands for his father. When he was thirteen, his father moved his other family into Elm Bluff, his wife and other children. It had been a strange arrangement, but Sumner bonded with his new family.

  But now, as the girl lying in the bedroom, he walked alone. Not as she, without anyone. In truth, much of it was of his choosing. Had he not a young son, Caleb? Sadness washed over him when he thought of his boy. He would be over three now.

  He hadn’t seen Caleb for such a long time. He held no doubt the young lad wouldn’t know who he was, but Sumner had seen to his care, leaving him with his wife’s family in Charles Town. He also arranged if the boy was in any danger, he would be sent to his sister in England.

  Since the British occupation, Elm Bluff had been occupied with British soldiers. Rumor had it that Cornwallis had even taken up residence there for a while, but Sumner didn’t worry about his plantations. If they weren’t in his hands at the moment, his sister held control...in essence, they were his.

  Warren was right. Even though Sumner stood loyally behind the Patriot cause, he did have more connections with the British, more influence, than most.

  “We have more to discuss than this,” Sumner said standing. “Come. Let’s walk.”

  The oppressive heat lent to walking along the fence line under the shade of the live oaks.

  “I was given orders to rest and recover, but there is no rest for any at the moment. Gates blundered the whole battle at Camden, lost many a good man without reason. Moreover, reports have come in that the British are making their way through our state, concentrating on those who have given aid to our men.

  “I intend to head over to see if I can help Shelby recruit men to our cause along the border.”

  Warren sighed. “It is not a job I would envy. Most of them want only to protect what is theirs. Life in the frontier is hard enough without launching a war against the British.”

  “There has to be those willing to fight. Shelby and McDowell have done many hit and run raids on Loyalist outposts along the border.”

  “Sumner, you know as well as I,” Warren warned, “That the overmountain men don’t like to be told what to do. It’s hard to lead men when there are no followers.”

  “Colonel Marion wants me to scout the area for signs of British activity,” Sumner said. “I can do so from here, except what am I to do with the distraction that now lives under my roof? I don’t like it, Warren.”

  “If you are worried so much about her welfare, take her with you when you scout.”

  “The girl?” Sumner asked in a clipped tone. “Are you mad?”

  “Could she not serve as a cover for you as you move about? At least until arrangements can be made. Let me point out that although she is a woman, she has survived for months without detection.”

  “It wouldn’t be safe
to go where I go. She may be brave, but she is a woman.”

  “That could dress as a lad,” Warren added. His steps slowed. “I would wager she would find sanctuary over the mountains. Then she would not be a worry to you any more or me now that I know.”

  “Let me think upon it. For the love of God, I do not need this! Not with all that is going on around us. What more do you know and have upon your mind?”

  For over two hours they discussed the war. In the end, it was as the beginning, the Patriot cause had receded to the point where their position lay in dire straits in the South. The British concentration had refocused upon the South, having lost their strong hold in the North.

  With the devastating loss at Camden, little held out hope for the Southern cause, but Sumner wouldn’t accept defeat easily. It wasn’t an option.

  In his life, he had faced many adversities. He had never wavered in his path and wouldn’t start now.

  Starting back up the path, Warren said, “I will come back later this week. You can have a note readied to see what you can do for the girl. Have faith, my friend. We will succeed...we have no choice.”

  Sumner made no argument. The rebellion would trudge onward. Turning the bend, he saw smoke rise from the chimney, and the aroma of a warm, cooked meal lingered in the air.

  Walking back up the steps, he noticed all the supplies and boxes had been cleared from the porch. He strode into the house.

  Plates lay upon the table, silverware, glasses, all in preparedness for a meal. He hadn’t realized how hungry he had become. Jane walked in from the kitchen.

  “I hope you don’t mind. I have prepared a simple lunch with the supplies that Mr. Parker brought. Sit,” she said simply. Within minutes, she had placed before him bowls of peas, fried tomatoes, okra, corn, and hot cornbread.

  Warren didn’t hesitate. “Never turn away a hot meal.”

  No, don’t suppose he would either, but his eyes remained upon Jane, such an odd one. How could he tell Warren he had no desire for her to be gone? No, it was strange how he had taken to her and in fact it was his dilemma.