“You have the wrong house, sir,” I called, then rushed within and barred the door.
To my surprise, I heard the wagon rumbling away. I ran to the stairs and went up, to the room where our children had slept. The window faced the road. I opened it and hung a white napkin from it as the men in the wagon disappeared down the road.
Later, when Cullah, Brendan, and Bertie came home and I was preparing the table for our supper, I told Cullah about the visitors. Rosalyn sat in silence. Cullah grew quiet, but I recognized it as the quiet he assumed when he felt most threatened. “I know no David Cross,” he said.
After our son and his family had retired and we lay in bed, Cullah said, “He asked for Jacob Lamont, then Eadan Lamont?” He rubbed his wounded hand with the opposite one. “Did you offer him food or drink? Did he beg any?”
“No. Cullah? How far back goes your name MacLammond? The man knew you and Jacob, I could see. He had no white ribbon or feather. He made no repeat of our signs, in fact, he did not even doff his hat from politeness. What is there in your name, husband, that you have never told me?”
“Nothing, wife. You know the truth. I was a lad when we left Scotland under the name Lamont. Perhaps he is but a friend too stiff in his speech to convince you to let him in the door. It would not be the first person you have turned away for rudeness.”
“You do not believe that any more than I.”
He was quiet. Then he said, “If aught happens to me, I have given a friend a letter to your brother, in hopes that he will be able to preserve you. I have made a testament and willed you the farm but you cannot work it enough to pay the taxes. If you must, prevail upon Brendan or Gwenny to live with them. Benjamin should be able to make some living in about five years. Of course, Dolly may marry and be able to take you in. Though I think she will never marry.”
“Who is this friend who has your letter?”
“Young John Hancock.”
“I wish he would marry our Dolly. Gwyneth was quite turned by him once.”
“Too late. Married in England and just returned here.”
“Do you think he is loyal to the Crown?”
“I think he is loyal to his purse. But he deals with your brother often enough. August Talbot is now captain of Hancock’s sloop, the Liberty. It is running Dutch goods and British tea enough for the whole province.”
Moonlight gave a pale blue gleam to his profile. “Running stolen goods?”
He laughed. “You wouldn’t think that of your own brother? No, no. Not stolen. Smuggled in without taxes. Most of the town of Boston covets his presence at their tables. He is become a heroic figure.”
“And what of this Mr. Cross?”
“I don’t know him.” He rolled over and cradled me in his arms. “Wife, I ask you not to worry about him. I will see to the fellow. He has either got the wrong man, or he thinks he may take some advantage of us. I am satisfied with that explanation for I am not a man to be taken advantage of.”
“I ask you for your honest answer and you tell me not to worry.”
I heard him swallow. “I have been honest with you, Resolute. I was but a boy when I was sentenced to hang alongside Pa. We escaped. We survived getting here. Changed our names. No one could know me by that old name. No one could charge me with rebellion against the king for that king is long dead. This king, this king troubles me a great deal, but I have done my grumbling in secret except for attending town meetings. Let us speak no more of it tonight.”
“And learning to shoot a musket from John Parker, well and aye. It troubles me that ‘cross’ was our secret word, and that he gave it as his name.”
“You will have it out, will you not?”
I said, “I will.”
“I will not work at the shop till I find an answer for you. Will that please you?”
“Yes.”
“Will you sleep then?”
“I may. We must change our secret word. If he has it, and is using it and it is not his name, I could be fooled by it. Let us use ‘birch tree’ instead.”
“Well and aye. ‘Birch’ it is. Sure you would not rather have ‘walnut’? ‘Elm’?”
I placed my hand upon his shoulder and left it there. “Do not laugh at me, Eadan. It gives me such pleasure to speak your true name. It fills me with fear to hear it from a stranger.”
“Wife, I tell you, you needn’t fear. I am here. And you were right, I have lost a bit of finger but I can still wield a sword.” He chuckled. “Either sort.”
“What? Oh. Oh, that.”
“It’s been a while, but I remember how it’s done. I feel young tonight. We call ourselves the Sons of Liberty, and thinking of myself as a son makes me feel like a colt.”
“A colt. Well and aye. You are a fine one, Eadan. We are old. We should not.”
“Once, you said that we should not for we were too young.”
“Too unmarried, you mean.”