Read For Love or Country: The MacGregor Legacy | Book 2 for Free Online Page B

against them. “We seek the officer in charge. We have a letter for him from Captain Donahue Morgan. He has charged us to deliver it into the hands of no other but his commanding officer.”
    “And where is this captain?” The soldier narrowed his eyes in suspicion as other redcoats came forward and checked their wagon bed and underneath. “Why did he not come himself instead of sending an old man and two women in his place?”
    “He is lying in our house, sir,” Mama said. “Recovering from an injury that my daughter stitched herself.” The man’s blue-eyed gaze slid to Tyra, but he kept his expression unreadable. “At the moment, he is unable to come, but when he heard of the arrival of your troops, he bid us to bring a letter to your commanding officer, so he would be aware of his existence. We asked our neighbor, Mr. Simmons to escort us here.” She nodded toward their neighbor.
    “Why should I believe you?” He lifted an eyebrow.
    “As you pointed out, how dangerous could one old man and two women be?” Mr. Simmons asked.
    “Our superior officer in charge is Major James Craig. He has set up temporary headquarters at St. James Episcopal Church on Third Street.” The soldier lowered his rifle and motioned for the others to move back and let them pass.
    Mr. Simmons called to the horses, snapped the reins, and they continued. Few people were out and about like they were on Front Street. A curtain pulled back to watch them pass at one house. Tyra supposed it was Mrs. Baker. Her husband and sons were off fighting the British as were Mr. Simmons’s three sons. Most of their rebel friends were staying indoors. The few who had ventured out to take a walk were known Tories.
    They took a left onto Third Street where the two Hatfield sisters were taking a leisurely stroll. As professed Tories, neither of them had anything to fear now that their precious British had seized the town. They both smiled with vengeful delight and turned their noses up at them as they passed by. One was a year older than Tyra and the other was a year younger. No doubt, both of them would soon be setting their caps for a couple of unlucky souls in redcoats.
    The stone church came into view, and Tyra’s breath caught. White tents were set up all around the grounds, and redcoats were everywhere. Even though her family didn’t attend this church, anger burned through her that the redcoats had so little respect for God’s holy place. At least, the graveyard had been left in peace. They went through another round of questions and were searched a second time. After passing inspection, the soldiers gave them permission to leave the wagon and commanded them to follow one of them inside.
    In the sanctuary, Tyra blinked, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim light. Candelabras hung between the painted glass windows and the wooden pews that had been moved to make room for makeshift tables. Maps were rolled out on the tabletops and men wearing redcoats and white breeches with black boots were gathered in discussions. Upon their entrance, the officers’ voices faded and pointed gazes targeted their direction.
    “Sir, these people have a letter from one of our injured captains.” The soldier they followed stopped before an older gentleman with white hair and saluted him.
    “What injured captain? I am quite aware of all my injured officers, and no one has received any injuries upon arriving in Wilmington.” The major’s cold gaze speared Mr. Simmons, her mother, and then rested on Tyra. “Who has this letter?”
    “I have it, sir.” Tyra stepped forward. She pulled the folded letter from her reticule and handed it to him.
    He snatched it, turned, and broke the seal. As he read, he paced. His boots clicked against the hard floor and stopped. He scratched the side of his white head. “Miss MacGregor, it appears you have saved the life of one of His Royal Majesty’s officers, and we are grateful for the care and sacrifice you have made.”