The Beloved Land Read Online Free PDF

time I care to. Be informed, sir, that my ship raises anchor within the quarter hour.”
    “I do hope—and pray—that you are not gambling with the lives of your men.”
    The man wheeled about and stomped from the cottage, slamming the door.
    Gordon seemed not to notice. Instead, he turned and stared out the window at the gray nothingness which was gradually giving way to dusk. “I do hope I am wrong,” he murmured.
    Nicole stepped toward him and settled a tentative hand on the arm of her betrothed. And it’s very likely my letters have not gotten through either. My parents must not know of my engagement to this man . She stared up at Gordon’s face in profile, noting the set of his features as he wrestled inwardly. She knew the responsibilities he carried for men and mission, and the serious contemplation he brought to every decision, large and small.
    Gordon soon turned from the window, his gaze and features softening as he laid his hand on hers. “We have a damp and chilly eve before us. I shall start us a fire.”
    “Thank you, but a fire will not warm my spirit.”
    He turned to look into her face. “You have heard something?”
    “I have. But I do not wish to add—”
    “Thank you, Nicole, but there is nothing more I can do for the captain and his vessel, save pray. What is troubling you?”
    Nicole withdrew the sheet of paper from her pocket and quickly read it aloud. The reading took only a few minutes. She described how dismayed she had been at the realization that neither Catherine’s longer letters nor her own had made it through the blockade. She yielded finally to tears over her desperate longing to see her father once more. “I feel I have only just come to know them. I can’t lose him now, Gordon. Not like this, without being able to …”
    She eventually stopped because she had to. Outside the small hut came the sounds of men busy with the affairs of danger and motion. Though none yet approached, their presence was enough to keep Nicole’s emotions in check. She wiped her eyes and attempted a tremulous smile. Gordon squeezed her hand on his arm.
    “Let me pour you some tea,” he offered, moving to the corner woodstove and the kettle.
    Gordon soon fitted a steaming mug into her hand. “Have you eaten?”
    “This morning.”
    “Nothing at midday?”
    “The seminary’s supplies did not arrive today. I was planning to scour the market when the letter arrived and Pastor Collins called me in.”
    “There is scarce little to be found at any price. I broke up a fight this morning between sailors and stallholders taking only silver for the last of their winter carrots.” He held up a beribboned document from his desk. “Requisition orders I can’t hope to fill. The city’s larders are almost empty.”
    “What does this mean?”
    “Drink your tea, my dear.” He waited while she sipped, then said, “The war can’t continue much longer. It is not just our city. All the colonies are so burdened. And the British forces as well, from what news I have gathered.”
    “Then the war is ending?”
    “Not ending, but waning. Perhaps. Or reaching a crescendo. One or the other is my guess. Either there will be a loosening of the grip or an all-out push for victory. Neither side can go on with conditions as they now are.”
    “How long—?”
    “We shall know by summer’s end, of that I am certain. By the end of this battle season, things will have altered. And drastically if my guess is correct.”
    “But I can’t wait—Father might not …” But she could not say the words.
    Gordon slowly took a pair of new logs and set them upon the dwindling fire, then gathered up the bellows and began priming the flames.
    “Gordon, did you understand? My father’s condition may not allow me the time until autumn.”
    Carefully he replaced the bellows, brushed ashes from the front of his uniform, straightened, and turned with obvious reluctance.
    In his eyes Nicole saw the same bleak reality after the