War of Hearts, A Historical Romance Read Free

gave it away. There was a man more in
need of it than me. He was practically naked. His clothes were worn
clear off! I have my heavy shirt to wear. I am more fortunate than
most.”
    “Yes. Yes you are.” Her eyes rested upon a
man nearby with no shoes. The rags he used to bind his feet were
red with blood, and his toes, which peeped out from the wrappings,
were of an unnatural color. Tears stung her eyes again, hugging
Silas tight.
     
    ***
     
    It was hard to believe they were traveling
again. After scarcely a day of rest, the General was marching them
toward Trenton. The weather had turned, and it was getting quite
warm. Well, warm for New Jersey in the winter. The snow had started
to melt, and the road was turning into a quagmire from the heavy
loads.
    The blaring rays from the sun reflected off
the snowdrifts and caused her to squint her eyes to protect them.
Sarah’s feet felt leaden as she trudged on the muddy ground. She
was in the back of the procession with the other women. Trailing
behind the supply wagons, she kept her head down as she slogged
along. She wished she could make sure it was only mud she was
walking through.
    It was not long until the heavy wagons
became bogged down in the muck. It would take a miracle to free
them. The procession slowed and then stopped. Sarah was
apprehensive. She did not know what lay ahead today or in her
future.
    They heard voices floating back and she
could make out one word ‘Cornwallis’. Fear wrapped its hand around
her, and she felt an ominous chill. Even she was familiar with his
reputation for winning battles. Cornwallis had not sailed for
England after all. He was here, in the flesh. The sound of cannon
fire exploded, and all hell broke loose. She took cover in the
thick trees with the other women.
    Time seemed to stand still, and she held her
breath, her world erupting once again. The cannon bursts were ear
shattering, and she flinched with each shot. The ground shook, and
Sarah was showered with icicles that fell from the tree branches.
Her heart was beating so fast that she thought it would explode in
her chest. The wind brought the smell of gunpowder, and she could
taste the acrid smoke when she breathed.
    The men at the front retreated across the
small bridge at the creek. She could glimpse General Washington
sitting astride his unmistakable horse, Blueskin. The horse was so
light in coloration it appeared to be white. He looked brilliantly
valiant while he sat next to the bridge, making sure his men
escaped the barrage of gunfire from the British. His mere presence
was a huge boost to the ailing army’s morale. She watched, awed, as
he sat bravely ignoring the bullets whizzing past.
    Dusk was falling, and the fighting ended,
both parties were regrouping. Sarah spotted Silas' red hair from
afar as she went to collect firewood. She relaxed a bit, knowing he
was safe. She put her faith in Washington’s abilities. Any General
who would put himself at the front of the line to encourage his men
was worthy of her trust.
    They had a thin soup for supper; you really
couldn’t even call it a broth. She took a sip, watching the sunset
paint colors across the sky. The night grew cold, and she pulled
her shawl around her tighter. The cold pulled at her to sleep, but
her head was too full of worry. A shadow whispered to them to
gather up and move quietly. To leave the fires burning. Their
miracle had come.
    The ground had frozen enough by midnight to
allow passage of the wagons and the army snuck off through the
night. However, they were not retreating; just the opposite. Taking
a narrow dirt road, they made their way toward Princeton to
attack.
    As dawn broke, Sarah could make out the
entire Continental Army marching in front of her. The brave men who
were willingly marching, possibly to their deaths, for their belief
in the cause of freedom.
    These men, who were once farmers, merchants,
school teachers, and blacksmiths, were now a single unit. An army
with a purpose.