Ashes: Chapter 1
by Tami B.
Disclaimer: The following work has been written solely for the enjoyment of fans and not for monetary profit. The rights to the characters initially created for the Daniel Boone series belong to 20th Century Fox and Fess Parker. All other characters are of the author's own creation. No copyright violation is intended.
Rebecca was dead.
Only three small words, but so profound in their effect that Daniel felt as if he'd been slammed in the chest with a sledgehammer. The revelation reverberated in his mind sending him reeling as he tried to come to terms with it. His wife was dead. He couldn't accept it; wouldn't accept it. Not his Becky. Not the woman he had loved as much as life itself and who had borne him two beautiful thriving children, one of whom they had seen married and the other still a child who needed his loving mother.
Rebecca was dead.
Mingo had been the bearer of the news and Daniel had taken it in his usual stoic manner. Now that he was alone, the full impact struck him and he would only partially give into his grief. With blank watery eyes, he stared past the flames dancing in the fireplace, trying to reason with the unexpectedness of her passing. Death wasn't reasonable. It didn't succumb to his demands. He couldn't reverse its effects. Not his charm, not his cunning, nor his survival skills could put the life back into the lovely woman he called his own for close to twenty years.
Rebecca was dead.
Tears trickled down Daniel's cheeks and he angrily swiped them away as he came to stand close to the fireplace. Across from where his tall form stood, Rebecca's rocking chair sat empty. He glared at it, wanting to see her sitting there mending his shirt or reading a book. His mind's eye looked back a few years to when Israel was just a baby, seeing Rebecca rocking the boy to sleep and singing a lullaby. Her song was the last the infant heard before he fell asleep.
Israel didn't yet know about his mother's death. He was camping with friends in the woods and would return tomorrow morning. Daniel would have to tell his son then. He was having difficulty enough dealing with his own grief. How could he possibly help his son through it? How could he possibly raise his son alone? The task seemed too much. At the moment, he felt weak and vulnerable. Feelings that were completely foreign to him. He had convinced himself and believed with all certainty that he could take whatever life dished out - until now.
Rebecca was dead.
The guilt within him mounted. He was responsible for her death; he and he alone. This tamer of a wilderness, blazer of trails, and mighty man of the frontier powerlessly stood by and had done nothing to save his wife. He watched her fall to the cabin floor, clutching her stomach as blood streamed across her blouse and arms. Leaning against the mantle, Daniel laid his head in the crook of his upraised arm as guilt consumed him in like manner as the fire burned the wood to gray dull lifeless ashes. Such had become Daniel's life. Where once he basked in the light and love of family, he now faced only dark lonely days ahead and not one second spared from suffering oppressive guilt. He accepted the misery that enveloped him. It's what he deserved for his uncharacteristic lack of action. Why? Why didn't he do something? Anything! Why had he remained idle? Why hadn't he protected the woman he loved? Those questions tormented him, but he vowed to find answers, for his son would surely ask and he had to know. There had to be a reason for him not to act when everything in him had cried out to do so. Why? Why?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Israel bounded into the cabin wearing a grin from ear to ear. "Ma! Pa!" he yelled excitedly. The smile vanished when he saw the dark haunted look on his father's face as he sat at the table. "Pa, what's wrong?" he asked with concern, and then looked around the cabin. "Where's Ma?"
Daniel ran his hands through his hair, and then looked his son square in the eyes. There was no easy way to tell him what he to say so he would be direct yet gentle. "Isra'l, your...ma's...dead," he said as his voice cracked with emotion. He moved towards his son to comfort him.
"No!" Israel cried, the tears already racing down his cheeks. "No, she can't be dead."
Reaching to take Israel in his arms, Daniel said, "She is, son. I wish it weren't so."
Stepping away from his father, Israel shrugged out of his knapsack, allowing it to drop to the floor, then throwing his tricorn cap on top of it. "How, Pa?" he asked angrily. "What happened to my ma?"
"Yesterday, four British agents came to the cabin lookin' for important Continental Army documents that had been entrusted to me until Lieutenant Adam Liberty arrived to receive them. They stormed in and started shootin'. Your ma was hit in the stomach," Daniel said as he distanced himself from the telling and slowly walked back to the table.
"What was so important about those documents?" Israel demanded.
"They contained details of French warship movements against the English that if successful will bring victory for us and the end of the war," Daniel explained.
"My ma died for that?" Israel asked incredulously as more tears coursed down his face. "Why didn't you stop them?"
Daniel didn't immediately respond. The question that plagued him had been asked and he still had no answer. "I don't know," he replied.
"You don't know?" Israel asked incredulously as he moved closer to his father. "Pa, you have to know. You have to know why you didn't stop them."
"I don't!" Daniel retorted wrathfully. He immediately softened his tone. "Isra'l, I don't have answers for all your questions. I'm sorry, son."
"If there was shootin', Pa, why weren't you shot?" Israel asked, eyeing his father critically.
Daniel thought a moment. It was a question he hadn't considered. Why had he emerged from the bloodbath unscathed? "I don't know," he stated again, racking his brain for an answer.
Israel furiously marched to the cabin door and paused there before he stormed outside. "My ma's dead and you didn't stop them from killing her. That means you killed her too. I hate you! I'll never forgive you!"
The cabin door slammed shut and Daniel stood staring at it. He had expected his son's negative reaction and the accusations that followed. Israel was entitled to hate him and hold him in contempt. How could he have respect for him when Daniel didn't have any for himself? As for forgiveness, Daniel wasn't deserving of that either although he knew Rebecca would have forgiven him. She was that way.
Daniel went to the fireplace and removed a stone. The opening should have revealed the vital documents, but they were gone. With the papers stolen and presumably on their way to the proper British authorities, the American Revolution seemed doomed. Not only had his wife died, but maybe his country would soon follow. Daniel sat on the floor, ran a hand through his hair, and again stared at the ashes in the fireplace.
Mingo entered the cabin to find Daniel gaping at him from the floor. His eyes were blank orbs. "Daniel, I spoke with Israel," he said, approaching the woodsman. "He has some idea that you killed Rebecca. What did you tell him?"
"What I always tell him, Mingo," Daniel said, rising to his feet. "The truth." He then began to build a fire in the fireplace.
"What is your version of the truth, Daniel?" Mingo inquired.
"I let Becky die," Daniel said succinctly, placing the firewood on the hearth. "There can be no excuses, nor forgiveness for that."
"How did you let Rebecca die?" Mingo prodded.
Daniel glared at Mingo as if he already knew the answer to his question and was deliberately baiting him. "They shot her and I did nothing to stop them," he said harshly, tossing the kindling to the floor.
"What could you have done?" Mingo challenged.
Walking past Mingo, Daniel made a fist and hit a beam in the cabin with some force. "What could I have done? I don't know. I don't know!" he said out of frustration. "I've asked myself that same question a thousand times over and haven't come up with an acceptable answer. Why didn't I shield her? Why didn't I do something...anything to protect her?"
"Daniel, you have nothing to blame yourself for," Mingo said to try to console his friend.
"I have everything to blame myself for," Daniel said. "I did nothing. I stood by and watched her die."
"It could not have happened the way you describe," Mingo said.
Angrily pushing himself away from the beam, Daniel approached Mingo. "What do you know about it?" he asked, fury in his voice. "Were you here when it happened?"
"You know I was not," Mingo concurred. "What I am saying is that it makes no sense that you would not have done something to protect Rebecca unless you were unable to do so."
"Look at me, Mingo," Daniel said. He pointed to his head with his fingertips and then moved down his body stopping at his thighs. "What do you see?"
Mingo didn't immediately answer. Daniel was leading up to something and Mingo had an idea what it was. "You are perfectly healthy and quite capable of protecting Rebecca. Is that what you wanted me to see?" he asked.
"Yes," Daniel said. "What would prevent me from safeguarding my wife? If it wasn't injury, then what was it? I wish I knew, but I don't."
"Then why blame yourself? It was the British agents that killed Rebecca. Not you, Daniel," Mingo said.
"Mingo, you don't know what you're saying. You've never had a wife. You don't know what it's like to be committed to that person you've decided to share the rest of your life with; to become so close that you know what she's going to say before she even says it," Daniel explained. "The least I could have done was..."
"Was what?" Mingo asked when his friend didn't finish the sentence. "Daniel, you do not even know what you would have done differently. This self-recrimination is useless and unproductive. What you have to do now is-"
"Don't tell me what I have to do!" Daniel roared. "I know what I have to do. I have to figure out this whole situation. Try to make sense of it."
"Certainly, Daniel, and while you are trying to make sense of something that there is no sense in, your son is in dire need of comfort," Mingo pointed out.
"He doesn't want me near him, Mingo. I tried to comfort him, but he turned away from me and rightfully so," Daniel said.
"And so you are giving up helping him? That does not sound like you, Daniel," Mingo told him. "The Daniel I know does not give up on...anything."
"The Daniel you knew is gone and is as dead as his wife. All that is left is shattered remains of a life that once was," Daniel said gloomily. "Ashes."
"There is nothing left of you to give to your son, Rebecca's child?" Mingo asked. "He needs time and you, Daniel. He has just learned his mother is dead and his world has fallen apart. He has lost one parent. You cannot permit him to lose another."
"What can I do?" Daniel asked hopelessly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Confirm your love for him. Continue to offer him your comfort. Be his father," Mingo suggested.
"He won't listen," Daniel said, taking a seat at the table.
"Who is the parent here?" Mingo asked, coming to stand beside him. "You must be the adult and act like it. You must put aside what may be in your best interest and do what is best for your son. I understand you are not yourself and it will be hard, but you must do it for Israel's sake."
"You ask the impossible," Daniel said as he rested his head on his fists.
"It is only impossible if you do not act on it," Mingo said sternly.
Daniel thought how ironic that Mingo's words sounded like those he would speak himself. The man he had been before Rebecca died; the man who accepted his responsibilities and fulfilled them. He made promises and kept them - except for one; the promise he made to Rebecca when they courted that he would always provide for her and protect her. He had failed that and she was dead because of it. Renewed grief washed over him like gigantic wave striking a sandy beach.
"Daniel, you must go to Israel," Mingo demanded.
"No!" Daniel declared. He stood and swung his fist into Mingo's jaw. Mingo stumbled backwards, but quickly regained his balance, rubbing his jaw. "Isra'l wants nothin' to do with me. He knows my shame and feels it too. All the pretty words in the world can't erase that."
"You have to try, Daniel," Mingo stated, keeping out of striking distance.
"It won't do no good. It'd be wasted effort. You think after I talk to him he's going to throw his arms around me and tell me he's proud I'm his pa?" Daniel demanded, shaking his head.
"All you have to do is plant a seed. Let him know you are there for him whenever he needs you. Gradually as his anger and grief subside, you can begin to do the things you used to do with him like the hunting trips, hikes in the woods, tracking, and fishing," Mingo suggested.
To Daniel, at that moment, Mingo was making sense. He could lay aside his own grief, guilt, and shame for the short time it would take before Israel turned away from him. Daniel knew that was exactly what would happen and he prepared himself to be rejected by his own son. "All right, Mingo. I'll plant that seed for all the good it will do," he said disheartened, walking past him to the cabin door.
"Daniel, do not do it in a defeatist attitude. Do it the way Rebecca would have wanted," Mingo said. "You owe her that much."
"I owe her much more than that," Daniel admitted sadly, opening the door and stepping outside as Mingo kept a discrete distance.
Israel sat at the end of the porch whittling on a piece of pinewood that was to be the image of his mother. He had started on it before he went camping. Now, he sat destroying it in anger. Daniel approached him. He knew the boy was furious. He chopped at the wood rather than making smooth cuts. "Isra'l," Daniel said gently. The whittling continued and Israel did not acknowledge his father's presence. "Son," Daniel continued, coming to sit beside him. Israel turned his back to his father. "I know you're hurtin' and missin' your ma. I am too. If I could make things different, I would, but I can't. Your ma's gone, but we still have each other. To get through this, we're going to need to rely on one another. What do you say we start that today? You want to talk or take a walk in the woods or anythin' we'll do it - together - as father and son."
"I don't want nothin' from you!" Israel cried, rising to his feet and taking a few steps away from the porch before stopping. Whirling around, Israel pointed his whittling knife threatingly at his father and said, "You let my ma die. You killed her! I hate you. Don't call me your son 'cause I'm not your son anymore. I wish you were dead." In a rage, he threw his knife into the ground.
Daniel focused on Israel's quivering knife. He thought he had been prepared for his son's rejection of him, but the boy's words cut through him like his knife that pierced the earth. He felt a severe pain in his chest as if that whittling knife had actually penetrated. He couldn't look into his son's angry face as the familiar yet dreaded feelings of guilt and shame arose within him.
"I ain't goin' t' stay here with you anymore. I'm leavin'," Israel declared.
With his head bowed, Daniel said, "If that's what you want, Isra'l." Rising to his feet, Daniel walked back inside the cabin with Mingo following.
"Daniel, that was a good beginning. Rebecca would have been proud," Mingo said encouragingly as he closed the cabin door.
"My son wishes me dead and you say that's a good beginning?" Daniel asked bitterly, picking up the kindling he had dropped earlier. "I don't blame him. He's got a right to feel the way he does." I feel the same way, Daniel thought.
"It will take time, but he will come around," Mingo said.
"Or he might not," Daniel said, arranging the kindling on top of the firewood. "In the meantime, he won't want to be here with me. You'll have to take him to stay with the Rands." He applied the flint and steel to get a fire going to ward of the chill on this cool spring day.
"No, Daniel, he needs to be with his father at a time like this," Mingo strongly objected.
"He doesn't want to be with me," Daniel reiterated. "The Rands will care for him until he's ready to come home," he said, watching the flames leap higher and higher in the fireplace. "Agnes has always been fond of him. He'll need her now."
"You are running away from the problem, Daniel. I have never known you to do that," Mingo observed. "Sending Israel away is not going to help him or you."
"Mingo, you've been awful free with your advice and I'm gettin' pretty tired of it. Israel is my son. He doesn't want to stay here and I won't force him," Daniel said firmly. "I'll fetch his things and you can take him to the Rands."
"And if I refuse?" Mingo asked, crossing his arms across his chest.
"Then I'll take him myself. It won't be a friendly walk to the fort, but it'll get the job done," Daniel said as he began to climb the ladder to the loft.
"I will escort him, Daniel, although I think he is better off here than staying at the fort," Mingo said.
"I didn't ask you what you thought," Daniel said testily as he halted on the ladder. "Much obliged just the same." Planting his feet on the loft floor, Daniel extracted a cloth bag from underneath Israel's bed and began to swiftly pack his son's possessions. He then rejoined Mingo. After handing Israel's bag, knapsack, and cap to him, Daniel went outside.
Israel walked the yard, kicking up dust. He watched his father and Mingo emerge from the cabin. His anger showed on his face.
"Isra'l, Mingo will walk you to the fort. You can stay with the Rands," Daniel told him then went back inside the cabin, shutting the door behind him. He leaned heavily against it, contemplating his shattered life. 'Becky, I miss you so,' he thought. 'I've lost you. I've lost Israel. Jemima is sure to hate me as well when she learns you're gone; then I will lose her too.'
Running his hands over his face and through his hair, Daniel stepped towards the fireplace, but paused to peer from the window to see Mingo and Israel walking towards the fort. The boy plodded along as if he carried a great weight. A burden he had placed there. 'I'm sorry, Isra'l,' he thought. 'I'm sorry I let you down. I never meant it to be so.'
Resuming his short trek to the fireplace, Daniel found the fire warm and inviting unlike the coldness that consumed him. He watched the fire throw off ash and sparks. "My life," Daniel said aloud. "Alone. Nothing left but ashes." Grief and guilt engulfed him. He then gave into his emotions and slowly sank to the floor, weeping as he had not done since he was a small boy. His sobs went unchecked as tears coursed down his cheeks.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Rebecca's final resting place was located on Daniel's property not too far from the cabin. He had prepared the area himself and constructed the coffin. He had buried his wife with the help of Mingo, who also had made arrangements for the funeral service. They were the first to arrive that morning and greeted the mourners as they came. It seemed the entire settlement was gathered in the grove.
Israel refused to stand beside his father during Rebecca's funeral, choosing instead to be with the Rands. His teeth and fists were clenched and he made a concerted effort not to look at Daniel. Agnes Rand rested her hands on Israel's shoulders, hoping to be a small comfort to the boy who had lost so much.
Daniel was attired in the formal blue coat and pants ensemble that he wore mainly for Virginia legislative or Continental Congress committee meetings. Mingo silently stood beside him. Casting glances in Israel direction, Daniel almost willed the boy to look at him, but he would not. Daniel was beginning to think he made a mistake by sending Israel to the Rands. Perhaps Mingo was right and he should have made Israel stay with him. He missed his son greatly. He was a part of Rebecca that he could still have. The problem was Israel didn't want him. Daniel's thoughts of Israel kept him from hearing most of the service, but he willed himself to pay attention.
"'I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die,'" Caleb Rand read from the Bible. The settlement was without a minister so Caleb volunteered to conduct the funeral service. The big burly blacksmith didn't look like a preacher, but he played the part well. "Let us recite the twenty-third Psalm together. 'The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death.'"
Death. Daniel's voice cracked when he said the word. Guilt plagued him again at that moment. Rebecca's walk through the valley of the shadow of death had been caused by him. Despite his feelings, Daniel willed himself to be stoic and not appear weak to the people who had come to say farewell to his wife. He would appear to be the pillar of strength he usually was.
"'I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the prescence of mine enemies: thou anoinest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of Lord forever,'" Caleb quoted. "Rebecca Bryan Boone has been received unto our blessed Savior. We will miss her, but have the hope of seeing her again. Fare thee well, Rebecca."
The last words Caleb spoke reminded Daniel of a song he would sing at times. "Fare thee well, oh my darling. Fare the well. One of these evenings and it won't be long, you'll call my name and I'll be gone. Fare thee well, oh my darling, fare thee well," Daniel sang in his head. Since Rebecca's death, he had called her name and she was gone. She couldn't answer and he couldn't tell her goodbye. It was too sudden and too hurtful.
The people disbanded to return to their homes. Some approached Daniel to wish him well. He politely thanked them without his characteristic crooked smile. His face remained neutral in order to hide the overwhelming emotions that threatened to rise up and reveal his vulnerability.
"Dan'l," Agnes said. She reached for his hand and he took it. Her eyes were red and puffy from weeping for the loss of a good friend. "You be sure and come to our cabin for a hot meal once in awhile. Don't make yourself scarce. Caleb's goin' to be checkin' up on you from time to time."
"I'll do that and to see my son," Daniel confirmed. "Thank you for takin' him in."
"Ah, he's an angel. Not trouble at all. Grievin' for his ma, of course," Agnes said. "Dan'l, why does he blame you for Rebecca's death?"
"Because I'm responsible," Daniel said gruffly, turning to return to the confines of the cabin before his weakness became evident to the few people who had lingered.
"Dan'l!" Agnes called after him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
Daniel quickly made his way to the cabin and went inside. He paced the floor wondering what to do with himself. He decided to go out into the woods. Perhaps, he could escape the torment within him there. Walking to the bucket of water near the fireplace, he dipped the cup in the water, and then drained it. He noticed the fire had gone out and a pile of ashes lay in silence. "Ashes," Daniel said. "My life." Marching towards the bedroom, Daniel quickly shed his coat and pants and put on his normal attire. Grabbing his fringed leather jacket from the peg, he shrugged into it and then snatched his rifle, powder horn, and shot bag and disappeared into the forest.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Rebecca awakened to a deathly quiet in the cabin. She heard hushed voices near her as she lay upon the bed that was just outside her bedroom.
"Rebecca?" Agnes said quietly, touching her shoulder.
Turning her head towards Agnes, Rebecca managed a weak smile.
"It's about time you woke up," Agnes teased her. "Israel's been wanting to see you. Rest still. I'll go fetch him."
As Agnes left, Mingo and Cincinnatus approached. "How ya feelin', Becky?" Cincinnatus asked.
"Oh, just fine," Rebecca replied, raising up to adjust herself to a more comfortable position and then regretting that she had. A spasm of pain spread across her abdomen. She grimaced, moaned, and clutched her midsection. She then laid back down.
"Easy, Becky," Cincinnatus cautioned. "The bullet cut a trail across your stomach, but didn't go in real deep. You lost of lot of blood and shouldn't be moving around. Just stay flat."
Rebecca nodded as Israel dashed to her, pushing Cincinnatus and Mingo aside. "Ma!" he exclaimed.
"Israel," Rebecca said joyfully, reaching for his hand, which he took with a grin.
"Cincinnatus said you'd be all right," Israel said, holding her hand firmly. "'Gonna be weak for a spell,' he said, but you'd pull through."
"Who's looking after you?" Rebecca asked, knowing her injury was much too serious to allow her to attend to the needs of her son.
"The Rands," Israel replied.
"And he'll stay with us until you're able to care for him again," Agnes stated with a voice that meant there would be no argument.
Smiling, Rebecca said. "Thank you, Agnes." She was becoming more alert now and was shaking off the residue of fatigue.
"Don't mention it," Agnes told her. "He's been an angel. Not a bit of trouble."
"You always say that, Agnes," Rebecca pointed out. "Israel, I'm proud of you. Be sure to mind your-"
"I know, Ma," Israel interrupted. "Mind your manners and behave."
Smiling, Rebecca said, "Just be sure you do that and I'll make sure your pa-" Rebecca interrupted herself as she realized Daniel wasn't standing near. The she remembered all that had happened and what had put her in this bed. But where was Daniel? "Dan? Dan?" she called to him, her voice rising into a panic.
"Rebecca," Mingo said, gently moving past Israel. "Daniel is alive. He is hurt badly and is unconscious. He is in the bedroom."
"Will he live?" Rebecca asked.
Cincinnatus shrugged his shoulders and no one answered her question.
"I want to see him," Rebecca demanded.
"No, Becky," Cincinnatus said. "You gotta stay flat. You go movin' around, you'll bust yourself wide open. We got the cabin cleaned up once. We ain't about to do it again."
"I must see him, Cincinnatus," Rebecca said, making an attempt to rise.
"Let her go to him, Cincinnatus, for a short time," Mingo insisted, knowing it would give Rebecca some peace. Besides, she was determined to be with Daniel and would crawl to him if she had to.
Cincinnatus relented. Agnes assisted Rebecca to her feet and quickly helped her into a robe. The small entourage proceeded slowly into the bedroom.
Daniel lay on his back with a blanket over him. Easing herself to sit on the bed and trying not to let on how much pain she was experiencing, Rebecca looked into her husband's pale face. Her hand touched his forehead. "He's feverish," she said.
"Has been ever since we found him," Cincinnatus admitted.
Moving her hand across his face and down to the crook of his neck, Rebecca struggled not to become emotional. "I know he was shot twice. Where?" she asked.
"He was shot three times," Mingo corrected gently. "Once in the left arm, right thigh, and through his chest. No bones were broken that we can determine."
Rebecca knew that the wound to Daniel's chest was very serious. Such a wound was seldom survivable, but Daniel was a survivor. "You live, Daniel Boone," she ordered him. "You live. I'll not raise our son alone without his father to keep him in line."
"Ma, what happened?" Israel asked, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Who shot you and Pa?"
"Four men charged into the cabin. British agents, I suspect. One immediately shot Dan and another me. Dan watched as I was falling. That's when I heard another shot. I looked towards Dan and watched as he collapsed to the floor. I suppose he was a shot a third time then, but I didn't hear it. The leader pointed a pistol to Dan's head and demanded I tell him where the military documents were. I hesitated at first. If I told him, he might kill Daniel anyway. If I didn't, he would surely kill him. The leader cocked the hammer and buried the pistol into Dan's temple. I told him. They took the papers and left. I don't remember anything that happened after that. I told Dan it was too dangerous to store those documents in the cabin. They should have been kept at the fort under guard," Rebecca related.
"What was the nature of the documents that they stole?" Mingo asked.
"They contained strategy plans for French warships to conquer the English ships that are patrolling the Eastern seaboard. Adam is coming soon for those papers," Rebecca answered.
"Adam Liberty, Ma?" Israel asked.
"Yes, he was promoted to a lieutenant and is scheduled to arrive any day now," Rebecca said.
"I should have been here. I would have stopped them," Israel stated.
"I'm glad you weren't. They would have shot you as well. They were bent on getting those papers and they weren't going to let anyone stand in the way. They shot first and then asked questions," Rebecca expounded, squeezing Israel's neck gently. "Even Dan didn't have a chance to stop them."
"We need to go after them," Israel said, striking a fist into his palm. "They shouldn't get away with shooting my ma and pa."
"Israel, our first concern is tending to your parents," Mingo pointed out.
"Adam will go after them when he comes," Rebecca told them.
Daniel moaned, which startled Rebecca. She laid her hand on his chest and watched as he rolled his head slightly from side to side. His eyes remained closed. Agnes handed her a dampened cloth and Rebecca applied it to his forehead and the side of his face. "I'm here, Daniel. You'll be fine, darling. Come back to us."
"We've managed to get some herb tea and broth in him, but not much," Cincinnatus said.
"He'll be all right. I know it. Dan has too much fight in him still," Rebecca said confidently. Suddenly a severe sharp pain raced across her midsection and she doubled over in pain.
"Becky, you have to get back into bed," Cincinnatus strongly suggested.
"Ma?" Israel asked with concern.
"I'm all right, Israel. Just a little pain. It's passed now," Rebecca explained, pulling the blanket aside to reveal Daniel's bare hand. She held his hand and rubbed the back of it with her other hand. "Darling, when you awaken I'll be here. We'll get through this - together." She bent to kiss his forehead even though it caused her some pain. "Dan? Dan, please hear me. I love you." She squeezed his hand and covered him, patting him several times on his shoulder.
Agnes and Israel then assisted Rebecca to her bed and fed her some broth. In her weakened state, Rebecca fell asleep soon after they attended to her immediate needs.
Mingo and Cincinnatus remained in the bedroom watching over Daniel. "Reckon he'll come out of it?" Cincinnatus asked.
"Would you not if you had a woman like Rebecca waiting for you?" Mingo answered his question with another question and a raised eyebrow.
"I would," Cincinnatus concurred, "if I knew she was here. I don't reckon Dan'l knows that. He went down before she did. He saw her shot. Maybe he thinks she's dead."
"Rebecca will not let him think that for long. When she is strong enough, she will be constantly at his side. She will not leave him for one second," Mingo said.
"That's when I'd expect Dan'l to improve. Until then, I reckon he'll have to hold his own," Cincinnatus surmised.
"He will," Mingo concurred. "Daniel will fight for his life, if not for himself, for those he loves."
Nodding, Cincinnatus turned and exited the bedroom with Mingo following. Mingo paused at the doorway to look back at the unconscious tall woodsman. "You will live, Daniel," Mingo told him. "Rebecca will not have it any other way and you know your wife; her Irish will is not to be defied - not by you, not by me, not by anybody. Get well, my friend. The woods won't know what to do without your big feet running through them." Mingo then left Daniel all alone.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Daniel ran through the briars and the brush, not slowing his pace for an instant. He ran and wouldn't stop, not even when he thought he couldn't breathe another breath. Racing for the mountains, Daniel pressed on towards the mark he had set for himself until he stumbled and crashed into the hard earth. Rolling onto his back, Daniel placed a hand on his hurting chest. The pain was intense. He couldn't recall a time when his chest felt like that before.
Sitting up, Daniel observed the mountains beyond, catching his breath, and feeling the pain ease. The beauty of the mountains was in a word majestic. It was one of the reasons he had come here at this time. He thought he could hide in them forever and attempt to bury his guilt in their rich soil, never to be uncovered again. He wouldn't do that, of course, that would constitute abandoning Israel and he was still a prime concern even though the boy didn't want anything to do with him.
"Dan?"
Daniel jerked his head up in response to hearing a voice. "Becky?" he said impulsively. Feeling pressure on his hand, Daniel thought it felt remarkably like Rebecca's tender touch. He turned his hand over and over again, confused at this strange event.
"I love you," Rebecca's voice said.
Scrambling to his feet, Daniel searched all around him. Rebecca was no where in sight. He held up his hand as he felt her touch again. "Becky?" he called to her, but there was no response. "Becky?" he uttered her name once more.
"Daniel," Mingo greeted his friend as he approached him.
"Mingo, did you hear her?" Daniel asked with hopeful expectation, looking around.
"Hear who?" Mingo asked, coming to stand alongside the tall frontiersman.
"Becky," Daniel answered.
"Daniel, Rebecca is dead. We attended her funeral," Mingo informed him. "What you heard could not have been Rebecca."
"It was," Daniel said with conviction. "I heard her. I know my wife's voice when I hear it. She spoke my name and told me she loved me."
"It is your imagination, Daniel, or wishful thinking," Mingo stated. "Rebecca is gone."
Picking up his rifle and coonskin cap that he had dropped when he had fallen, Daniel contemplated Mingo's words. It was true Rebecca was dead and couldn't possibly have spoken to him. "My feet aren't that big," he suddenly blurted out.
"They most certainly are. We could drain the Kentucky River in your boots ten times over alone and still have room for the Blue Licks besides," Mingo suggested with a wry smile.
Daniel didn't smile. He knew Mingo was trying to lighten the moment by telling a joke, but he was in no mood for jokes. "Could it be possible that Becky is still alive?"
Mingo shook his head. "How, Daniel? You witnessed her being shot and how much she bled. She could not and did not survive."
"I heard her call to me," Daniel argued. "It was real."
"It is getting dark, Daniel. I will build a fire so we can rest by it and because it promises to be a cold long night," Mingo said, moving to gather firewood.
Soon Mingo had a fire lit and the warmth from it was welcome. Darkness had fallen and with it came a chill in the air. "Hungry?" Mingo asked, offering Daniel jerky.
Daniel shook his head as he stared into the fire, with his head resting on his fists. Being tormented by guilt, grief, and shame, was the result of centering his thoughts on Rebecca. He couldn't help it. A part of himself died with her - a big part. He missed the way she would laugh, speak, and even lecture. The last speech regarded the all-important military documents, which she had strongly advised him to secure at the fort and kept under guard. They had quarreled over them until she relented. Why didn't I listen, Daniel thought. "Why didn't I listen to her?" he questioned aloud.
"I do not know. Why?" Mingo responded.
"Because I knew no one but Adam was coming for those papers so why take the precaution of storing them at the fort. I was assured that the British agents would be chasing the decoys. All I needed to do was to hold them until Adam took them off my hands," Daniel explained. "Becky and I argued over where to keep them. In the end, I had my way and it cost her her life."
"If you had known the actual danger the documents posed, you would have secured them at the fort," Mingo pointed out. "Even if you had taken Rebecca's advice, those British agents might have come to the cabin and killed Rebecca anyway. There is no way to be certain."
"I'm sure that if I had done as Rebecca wanted she'd be alive today," Daniel argued. "I should have listened to her, but, no, I was so all-fired right!" He demonstrated his frustration by punching himself in the right thigh, which began to throb by the impact.
"It makes little difference now, Daniel. Right or wrong, the fact remains she is dead. You will have to learn how to live without her and care for Israel. She would have wanted that," Mingo advised softly.
"I'll provide for Israel," Daniel assured him. "I can't live without her. I can only exist and nothing more." Daniel then clutched his chest, the pain was so great that it rolled onto his knees. He cried out. He made repeated attempts to rise, but the pain increased with every effort.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Cincinnatus and Mingo ran into the bedroom when they heard Daniel's horrific cry. They found him partially rolled on his side, a hand to his chest. His face was a mask of agony. Cincinnatus gently pushed him so that he lay on his back. He lifted his head and gave him some of his specially brewed herb tea that was supposed to help alleviate pain. To his surprise, Daniel drank it. Cincinnatus laid his head on the pillow. Daniel moaned softly, keeping his hand on his chest. Cincinnatus pushed Daniel's hand aside and then pulled the blanket away to inspect Daniel's chest wound. Lifting the bandages up and clear of the injury, Cincinnatus saw that Daniel's stirring didn't cause bleeding to occur. He then let go of the bandages and replaced the blanket over him.
Agnes arrived with Rebecca, who refused to stay in bed when her husband was suffering. "Cincinnatus?" she asked as she sat upon the bed already touching areas on his face and neck.
"He may be comin' around. He took some tea. That should help with the pain," Cincinnatus told her.
"That's a good sign," Rebecca concluded.
"Could be," Cincinnatus stated.
"Dan? Dan, I'm here. Open your eyes, darling," Rebecca called to him. "Dan, please open your eyes."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The pain was subsiding and Daniel found he could stand now. The fire was still going and Mingo sat near it calmly eating jerky.
"Dan?"
It was Rebecca's voice he heard. He looked around, but couldn't spot her. "Mingo, do you hear her? She called my name."
"Rebecca?" Mingo asked.
Daniel nodded, looking behind nearby trees and bushes as if Rebecca was playing hide-and-seek.
"No, Daniel, I do not hear her," Mingo said, rising. He took Daniel by the arm and made him look him in the eye. "She is not here, Daniel. Rebecca is dead. Whatever you are hearing is not your wife. Rebecca is dead. Her voice cannot rise from the grave to beckon to you."
"Dan, please open your eyes," Rebecca's voice said.
Pulling away from Mingo, Daniel took a couple of steps away from him. 'Open my eyes? Becky, my eyes are open, but I can't see you. It must be too dark. Where are you?' Daniel thought. "Becky?" he called aloud.
Mingo inserted himself in front of Daniel. "Rebecca is dead. Get it through your thick head. She is gone."
"No, Mingo, she's not dead. I heard her voice," Daniel insisted.
"Then where is she, Daniel? Do you see her? I will answer for you. No, you do not. We placed her in the pine box you built. We buried her, remember? We held a funeral for her. Does it make any sense to do those things if she were alive," Mingo asked.
Daniel pondered Mingo's words. He was right. Rebecca was dead, but the voice he heard was so real. It was as if she were so close. Was it his imagination or wishful thinking as Mingo said that was driving the longing to be with his wife? Did he merely conjure up hearing her voice? If he was going to do that, why not have Rebecca appear before him in person? Why didn't things make sense anymore? His world had once been well-ordered and although chaos erupted at times, he had been able to handle the circumstances with great amount of certainty. There had been only a few times in his life when he could say he had been worried or upset or feared the worse would happen. The death of his and Rebecca's newborn son, William, had been one and when he was forced to kill his former best friend Will Carey, another. There also had been the time when Rebecca, Israel, and Jemima contracted serious illnesses, and last Christmas when food supplies ran far too short of demand. Most of those things worked out fine except for Will Carey and baby William. He wanted that life back where there wasn't confusion, hopelessness, and despair. He wanted his wife and his family intact to live and work with each other. He would have it. He had to have it. Rebecca called to him. She was with him somehow, someway. He didn't understand how, but he intended to find her and no one would stop him.
Stooping to pick up his rifle and throw his coonskin cap on his head, Daniel announced, "I'm going to find Becky."
"Where will you look?" Mingo asked callously.
"Anywhere I have to. Becky's here. She's nearby. I can feel her," Daniel explained.
"Rebecca!" Mingo called. "Show yourself. No more games, Rebecca. Come out in the open and let us see you!"
They waited a few moments and Rebecca did not present herself as Daniel had hoped. "Why is she hiding from you, Daniel?" Mingo asked.
Bewildered, Daniel began to search the immediate area in a desperate attempt to locate her. Mingo seized his arm. "She is not here, Daniel. She never has been. Stop this nonsense," he said firmly.
"No, she's here. I can feel her! Don't you understand? I know she's here!" Daniel cried out in anguish. "Becky! Becky!"
"Rebecca is dead," Mingo reminded him.
Furious, Daniel hit Mingo in the cheek with his fist and then raised the other to send it crashing into his other cheek. The blow landed him on his backside. The second punch wasn't as forceful as he would have liked. His left arm was weak and he couldn't understand why.
"I will not fight you, Daniel," Mingo declared. "Your fight is not with me, but with yourself."
"You'll fight because you have no choice," Daniel said, grabbing Mingo's vest and hauling him to his feet. He slammed his right fist into Mingo's chin repeatedly and Mingo did not resist.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Did you hear him?" Rebecca asked excitedly. "He called my name."
Cincinnatus, Mingo, and Agnes exchanged smiles. They hoped that Daniel was making a turn for the better although his fever had increased. Rebecca dabbed a cloth at his sweat-beaded forehead.
"Talk to him, Rebecca," Mingo encouraged. "Perhaps, he will hear you."
Rebecca nodded. "Dan? Dan? I'm here, darling. Come to me," Rebecca urged. "Dan, please open your eyes. Please, Dan, open your eyes. Your friends are here with me and they would like to talk to you. Dan? Dan?"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Mingo collapsed on the ground, his face bruised and bloody. He raised himself up to a sitting position, breathing hard.
"Now, tell me again my wife is dead," Daniel challenged as he stood over him.
Staring into Daniel's piercing green eyes, Mingo said, "Daniel..."
"Dan?"
There it was again. Rebecca's voice calling to him. Daniel turned expecting Rebecca to be standing behind him, but only trees stood where she ought to be.
"Dan, please open your eyes," he heard her say.
"Becky," he said aloud. "Becky, my eyes are open."
"Please, Dan, open your eyes," Rebecca's voice pleaded.
"Becky, I don't know what you mean. My eyes are open. I'm looking for you, but I can't find you," Daniel said, as tears of frustration and longing pooled in his eyes. He began to search madly about him for his beloved wife.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Dan? Dan? Dan, please open your eyes. I'm here. Oh, dear God, awaken him." Rebecca cried in desperation. She bowed her head, sobbing, but careful not to lay her head on his wounded chest. Agnes grasped her shoulders, leaned down to her ear, and murmured words of comfort.
"Rebecca, look! Look at Daniel," Mingo said with excitement in his voice.
Rebecca raised her head to find Daniel's eyes half-open. They were glazed over and unfocused, but it was something and she clung to it like holding onto a floating log in a raging river. "Dan? Dan, darling. I'm here. Can you see me? Do you know who I am? It's me. Becky. I'm here, Dan. Dan? Dan, can you talk? Dan, say my name. Just say my name," Rebecca urged.
Daniel's eyes blinked as she applied the cloth to his fevered brow and face. She then took his hand and squeezed. "Dan, do you feel that? I'm holding your hand. Dan, please answer."
"B...B...Bec...ky," Daniel said so softly that Rebecca had to strain to hear.
"Yes, Dan," Rebecca said with relief. "I'm here, Dan. You're going to be all right. Everything's going to be all right."
"B...Bec..ky," he whispered. "You..you...you're a...a...a...live."
"Yes, Daniel. A little lead ball can't keep me down," Rebecca said to him, running her hand across his face and through his hair. She felt pain begin to build in her abdomen, but she ignored it. She wanted to hear Daniel speak more. She wasn't ready to let him go, but her injury didn't cooperate. Severe pain doubled her over. She grabbed her midsection, and cried out in agony.
"Rebecca!" Agnes exclaimed in alarm. "Mingo, please take her to her bed."
Effortlessly, Mingo lifted Rebecca and carried her to bed and allowed her to squeeze his muscular arms until the worst of the pain had passed.
"Daniel will be fine. Won't he, Mingo?" she asked through clenched teeth.
"Now that he knows you are waiting for him, he will come back to you, Rebecca," Mingo confirmed, rubbing his throbbing arms. For a sick woman, she was incredibly strong.
"He closed his eyes. I reckon he went to sleep," Cincinnatus said as he joined the trio.
"After I've had a little rest, I'll try again. I want him to know that I'm here," Rebecca said weakly. With a smile on her lips, Rebecca closed her eyes and was soon slumbering as Agnes hovered nearby.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Becky!" Daniel shouted. He had seen her. It was through a hazy fog, but he had seen her nonetheless. She had spoken to him and then disappeared. He walked to the location that she appeared, but she was no-where to be seen. "Becky!" he shouted again. "Becky, you're alive!"
Mingo came up from behind Daniel and said, "Rebecca is dead. Quit fooling yourself into believing she is alive."
Daniel whirled and planted a fist into Mingo's face that knocked him to the ground. Daniel jumped on top of him, sat on his chest, and pulled his knife from his boot. Leveling it against the Cherokee's throat, Daniel then pressed it into the skin. "I'm warning you. Don't tell me Becky's dead again or you will be," he threatened, applying more pressure on the knife so it punctured the skin and drew blood.
Mingo raised up and threw Daniel off him. Daniel rolled across the ground to come to a stop at the remains of the fire. He looked about for Rebecca, but couldn't spy her. She was gone, vanished into thin air. He ached for her, but she did not come to him. He stared at the residue of the fire. "Ashes," he said and soon he was seized with uncontrollable sobbing as comfort was denied him.
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