Free The Blacksmith's Daughter: A Mystery of the American Revolution by Suzanne Adair Page B

gape,
either he was an excellent liar, or knowledge of the murderer's nationality had
unsettled him as much as news of the crime.   Susana sighed.   "Yes, a
Spaniard.   Another Spaniard.   Unfortunately this rascal wasn't caught,
either.   After the horrific murder of
that Spaniard here last month, I hoped we'd seen the last of Spaniards.   It's just as well that you're headed back to
Augusta today.   I fear Alton is no
longer a safe place to live.   Now, let
me see whether that lazy servant has finished preparing your breakfast."
    Betsy studied Clark's peculiar
fenced-in, wary expression over the rim of her coffee mug after Susana walked
away.   "You visited the tanner
yesterday, did you not?" she said low, keeping her face neutral.
    "Yes, but you don't think I
had anything to do with his murder, do you?"
    "Did you?"
    "Good god, he was my
friend!"
    "And the Spaniard who murdered
him?"
    Clark looked away.   "I don't know who he might have
been."
    The coffee soured in Betsy's
mouth.   From the horror and suspicion in
her husband's eyes, she suspected he did know something about the
murderer.   That he was unwilling to confide
in her about it filled her with more anxiety.   The least Clark could do would be to tell her how the tanner's murderer
figured into his mission.
    Upstairs after breakfast, while
Betsy was cleaning her teeth, she heard the jingle of spur and harness outside
in the front yard.   She rinsed her mouth
and looked beyond the porch overhang to see Lieutenant Fairfax dismounting his
horse while five other soldiers remained in their saddles out on the road.   Will's hounds rose from the front porch, their
toenails scraping the planks, and trotted over to greet the visitor.   Halfway out, both dogs changed their minds
and dove beneath the porch.   Not a
reassuring gesture.
    The clock in the shop struck seven,
followed by a rap on the front door.   Betsy slung her tote sack over her shoulder and left the bedroom.   Susana gave her a matronly hug downstairs in
the shop, handed their wrapped dinner to Clark, and hugged him.   "I may have the biggest mouth in Alton,
but no one ever walked away from my table hungry."
    As soon as Betsy opened the door,
Fairfax glared in at them.   Without a
word, she walked past him, Clark behind her, to where Clark had tied their
saddled horses, noting the stiff expressions on the other five soldiers, none
of whom had accompanied Stoddard to fetch them from Augusta.   She and Clark sure weren't going to
supplement any soldiers' rations with homemade goodies during dinner this trip.
    The Sheridans waved goodbye to
Susana.   On the road, their escort of
six spoke little.   Attempts at chitchat
between Betsy and Clark withered in the ambiance that they were a mere
liability to the soldiers.
    They stopped at nine and again at
eleven.   Betsy, at last grown to
understand the complaint of "pregnant bladder," trekked through
foliage west of the road to relieve herself.   Wandering out into the brush far enough for privacy made her feel like
an escaped prisoner.   And to think they
had several more hours in Fairfax's company.
    Her return was curtailed by pistol
fire and the appearance of a dozen bandits descending on the escort.
    At first she gaped in shock.   Horses skittered and neighed through black
powder smoke.   Fairfax whipped out a
pistol, blew a bandit's face away, and vaulted into his horse's saddle.   Clark discharged his fowler into another
bandit's midsection, sending the man screaming and thrashing in agony.
    A volley erupted from the soldiers'
muskets.   The arc of sunlight on the
lieutenant's hanger made Betsy flinch in horror, too late to avoid seeing the
spurt of blood and the bounce of a bandit's severed head.
    She crouched behind a tree, shaken,
nauseated, Stoddard's words hammering her memory: I was the target,
sir.   Had the men not performed
commendably, I'd have been assassinated .   So this wasn't indiscriminate highway robbery and