A moment’s silence, and a small hum of thoughtful consideration.
“David,” Bree said, beginning to be drowsy. The baby had gone to sleep, the distended nipple pulling slowly from his mouth as his head lolled. “Wee Davy. That’s not bad.” She yawned and looked up at Jamie, who was looking at the little boy with such tenderness that it struck me in the heart and tears came to my eye. “Could we give him William for his second name, Da? I’d like that.”
Jamie cleared his throat and nodded.
“Aye,” he said, his voice husky. “If ye like. Roger Mac?”
“Yes,” Roger said. “And Ian, maybe?”
“Oh, yes,” Bree said. “Oh, God, is that food?” I’d vaguely heard footsteps on the stairs, and now Silvia, holding a tray with bread and jam, fried potatoes, a bowl of stew, and a pitcher of milk, edged carefully into the room.
“I see all is well with thee, sister,” she said softly to Bree, and set down the tray. “And the little one, praise God.”
“Here, Roger,” Bree said, struggling to sit upright with the baby in her arms. “Take him.”
Roger did, and stepped back a little, so we could finish tidying Bree and propping her up to eat. I glanced over to see Roger, his face soft, look up from the freshly wrapped baby and see Jamie, who was shyly looking over his shoulder at his new grandson.
“Here, Grandda,” Roger said, and carefully laid wee David William Ian Fraser MacKenzie in his grandfather’s arms, the little boy’s head cupped in Jamie’s big hand, held gently as a soap bubble.
Fanny, straightening up beside me with an armful of soiled and reeking linens, turned from this beatific scene and looked at me seriously.
“I am never getting married,” she said.
141
A Bee-loud Glade
Colonel Francis Locke, Rowan County Regiment of Militias, Commander
August 26, A.D. 1780
Colonel Fraser:
I write to inform you that I have received a dispatch from Isaac Shelby, informing me that upon the 19th ultimo, at Musgrove Mill, near the Enoree River, a Force of some Two Hundred Patriot militia from the County Militias of North Carolina and Georgia, under Cols. Shelby, James Williams, and Elijah Clarke, attacked and defeated a Loyalist Force guarding the Mill, which controls the local Grain Supply and the River, this reinforced by a Hundred Loyalist Militia and some Two Hundred Provincial Regulars, on their way to join Forces with Major Patrick Ferguson.
I am informed it was a hot Fight, in which some Loyalist militia attacked with Bayonets, but were overcome by Patriot Soldiers who ran boldly upon them, yelling, shooting and slashing upon every Hand and thus broke the Charge.
Captain Shadrach Inman of Clarke’s Georgia Militia was killed in the first Attack, but succeeded in discomposing the Defenders, who then found themselves in some Disarray and were thus overcome and scattered, some 70 Men being captured, and nearly that Number killed, whilst the Patriot Forces lost but four Men, with a Dozen captured.
While I know you will join with me in rejoicing at this News, you must also share my Concern. If so many Provincials and other Loyalists are heading to join Ferguson from such a place as Musgrove Mill, the Countryside is roused throughout the Carolinas, and we must expect great Trouble if Ferguson succeeds in amassing a large Force, which looks very likely. We must prevent him while there is yet Time.
I renew my Invitation for you and your Men to join the Rowan County Regiment of Militias and reiterate my Promise that should you do so, you will remain in Direct Command of your own Men, you being solely subject to my Command and upon an Equal Footing with the other Militia Commanders, with a Right to draw upon the Supplies and Powder available to the Regiment. I will keep you apprised of what News comes to me, and hope for your Company in this great Endeavor.
Francis Locke, Colonel
Rowan County Regiment of Militias, Commander
JAMIE FOLDED THE LETTER carefully, noting dimly that his fingers had slightly smeared the ink of Locke’s signature, by reason of his sweating hands.
The temptation was great. He could take his men and join Locke, rather than fight with the Overmountain men at Kings Mountain. Locke and his regiment had routed a substantial group of Loyalists at Ramseur’s Mill in June and made a creditable job of it, from what he heard. Randall’s book had mentioned the incident briefly, but what it said matched the accounts he had heard—down to mention of an unlikely group of Palatine Germans who had joined Locke’s troops.
Beyond that, though … nothing more was said in the Book （for he couldn’t help thinking of it as that） regarding Locke until a skirmish at a place called Colson’s Mill in the following year. Kings Mountain lay between now and then, casting its long shadow in his direction. And Jamie couldn’t leave the Ridge undefended for any great span of time, regardless. He knew there were still Tories amongst his tenants, and he thought of Nicodemus Partland. He’d heard of no further attempts, but was well aware that almost anything—or anyone—could come over the Cherokee Line without his knowing.