Spirit of the Revolution Read Online Free PDF

held memory Sam watched his back, and by the saints, he’d done the same.
    William Ferguson and Alexander Buchanan, both hailing from New Jersey, removed to Pennsylvania with their parents as young lads, no more than seven years of age. He recalled the day he and Sam invited them to join their wild escapades, lest boredom beset them. They accepted the invitation on the spot. To their good credit, they never once uttered a single regret or complaint despite the numerous difficult situations they found themselves in along the way.
    Jedediah Gatlin, born of God-fearing, hard-working Virginia folk arrived much later. They took him on board just prior to the war. At that time in their lives, tempers ran high, skirmishes seemed common, and people chose sides. Jedediah did not hesitate to choose theirs. Despite his age, he remained brave, tenacious, and fiercely loyal.
    Together they made up a small fraction of the legendary force known as Morgan’s Rangers. This army of handpicked men noted for their marksmanship, and extraordinary skills, served under the command of Colonel Daniel Morgan. It pleased Mathias that he and his men completed each assignment with audacity and precision—save one.
    “We’ve shared many adventures together, lads,” said Mathias. “May the homestead continue to uphold our chosen pursuits another two hundred years at least.”
    “Let us not forget the lass,” William called out. “We couldn’t celebrate now if not for her devotion to this house.”
    Alexander raised his mug yet again and said, “To Jolena, who restored our home as well as our good nature.”
    A barrage of toasts and conversation followed as his men continued their celebration. In truth, they hadn’t experienced this grand a time in a very long while.
    “I think it only fitting to toast Dakota as well,” Jedediah said, after the toasts ran out. “He readily accepted our presence and helped liven up the place. Put us all in much better spirits, if you’ll pardon the expression.”
    “Leave it to that pup to draw attention to the dog,” Sam hooted, “when the rest of us have our minds firmly planted on that fine-looking woman, upstairs.”
    His comment solicited another round of raucous laughter, barbs, comments, and exchanges from the men as they continued to commemorate the fine restoration of their home.
    ****
    The clanking of metal against metal, laughter, and a lot of “Hear, hear,” slowly wafted up the stairs and intruded into the dreams of Jo Michaelsson. In this dream, she walked in on some kind of party taking place inside her sitting room. A large room made small by some very attractive, well-muscled men who looked as if they enjoyed their celebration. They talked about—about something. She couldn’t quite grasp the wisps of memory that still lingered. Let’s see—they wore something that just seemed so—so— Hmm. Just what were they wearing? She couldn’t remember now.
    In the vague memory of her dream, the tallest and most attractive man of the group, turned, and met her gaze. Until that moment, none of them paid her any attention. She slowly opened her eyes to make sense of it. All seemed quiet enough. Dakota gazed up at her from his large cedar bed on the floor, his head tilted.
    “Everything is okay, sweetheart.” She patted him affectionately. “Just another bizarre dream.” Jo yawned, turned to her side, and closed her eyes once again. She settled a little more deeply into her covers and drifted off to sleep.
    The men grew quiet, knowing their boisterous celebration disturbed the sleep of their guest. Mathias almost laughed aloud. Each of his men held their breath, as if they still had breath to hold.
    “We’ll have to remember we’ve a guest we’re not purposefully trying to run off this time around and hold down the volume. At least until she meets us,” he said in an effort not to disturb her more.
    Mathias waited until his companions dispersed before he made his way up the stairs and