I hesitated, not certain what I should divulge. “General Paterson. I’m his . . . aide-de-camp.”
The old Phin would have whooped and clapped me on the back or sulked and said he could do better. This Phineas did neither, though the hint of a smirk reappeared. “Does he know?”
“No. Of course not,” I lied. If I went down, I would not take John Paterson with me.
“Aide-de-camp in a year. No rank. How did you manage that?”
“Pure dumb luck. And hard work too, I suppose.”
He nodded his head slowly, like he could picture it. “You haven’t stopped running. You just keep on running until you win, don’t you, Deborah Samson?”
My name was just a murmur on his lips, but I flinched, afraid that someone would hear. “Yes. That is what I do. That is what we both do, Phineas Thomas.”
“Not me. I’m done running,” he said. “I’m tired.”
My heart twisted at his sad admission. “You have served so long.”
“I’m a lieutenant with the Fifth.”
“A lieutenant! Well done, Lieutenant Thomas.”
“It just means everyone else has quit . . . or died. So many of my brothers are gone, and all were better men than me. The best men don’t make it as long, though I don’t know if, at this point, I can be counted among the living.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that and searched for something to say, something hopeful. Something good.
“Benjamin and Jacob . . . they made it home, didn’t they?” I prompted.
“They did.” He nodded. “Jake married Margaret.”
“And Jeremiah? What do you know of him?”
He stiffened and searched my eyes. Then he shrugged and looked away. “Last I heard, he was a sailor. Just like he wanted.”
“Oh, Jerry,” I murmured. “I have missed him so much.”
Phin’s voice was pained when he spoke again. “When I left home, Jeremiah was a little boy. I can’t even picture his face.”
“He still looks like Jerry. You would recognize him. You recognized me.”
He nodded, and his rheumy eyes refocused on my face. “But I was looking for you.”
He was so different, and his gloom made the hair rise on my neck. I didn’t understand this Phin. This Phin was a worn soldier with frayed edges and missing teeth, and I didn’t know what to say or do to reconnect with my old friend. Maybe we just needed more time or more privacy, but we weren’t going to get it.
His discomfort was as obvious as my own, and he had begun to fidget, his eyes scanning the grounds and the soldiers of every rank enjoying the fireworks that had begun over the water. He flinched and ducked at a particularly loud clap and crackle.
I touched his arm in farewell, giving him my silent permission to slip away. After Yorktown, I wasn’t fond of the sounds of cannonade myself.
“It was wonderful to see you,” I said. “I hope we can talk again. I haven’t been able to write to your parents . . . to anyone at all . . . and I would like to write to you.”
“You always had a way with words. But don’t do anything that might get you caught. I’m not worth the trouble, and you’ve got a good thing going, seems like.”
“You’ve always been worth the trouble, Phineas Thomas.”
He grinned, giving me a glimpse of the boy I’d known, and saluted me, though he outranked me.
“Goodbye, Rob.” The words sounded so final.
“Goodbye, Phin,” I choked around the growing lump in my throat.
“I’m glad you didn’t wait. I’m not ever going back. I reckon neither of us will.” He saluted me again and turned, tossing me one final look over his shoulder before he blended into the milling crowd.
The general was in high spirits when I found him in his office after midnight. It had all gone off without a hitch, from the demonstrations on the field to the final boom and crack of the fireworks over the river.
The Red House was finally quiet, our guests settled in their quarters, and the general was sprawled in his chair, humming a tune the band had played, his face relaxed in the candlelight. He’d removed his boots, and his uniform coat and waistcoat were tossed over another chair, his neckcloth and banner as well. The bottle of brandy I had placed on his desk was open, a half-filled glass in his hand.
I was wilted and weary, having traipsed from one end of the garrison to the other all day, attending to endless needs and countless tasks, and my bad leg throbbed in time with my sore heart. I had not recovered from my encounter with Phin. I didn’t worry he would expose me, but I was badly shaken all the same.