A Christmas Crossing by Hubbard Lynn

Author:Hubbard, Lynn [Hubbard, Lynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lemon Press Publishing
Published: 2011-10-31T00:00:00+00:00

Map of the Battle of Trenton PD

4

It was hard to believe they were traveling again. After scarcely a day of rest, the General was marching them toward Trenton. The weather had turned, and it was getting quite warm. Well, warm for New Jersey in the winter. The snow had started to melt, and the road was turning into a quagmire from the heavy loads.

The blaring rays from the sun reflected off the snowdrifts and caused her to squint her eyes to protect them. Sarah’s feet felt leaden as she trudged on the muddy ground. She was in the back of the procession with the other women. Trailing behind the supply wagons, she kept her head down as she slogged along. She wished she could make sure it was only mud she was walking through.

It was not long until the heavy wagons became bogged down in the muck. It would take a miracle to free them. The procession slowed and then stopped. Sarah was apprehensive. She did not know what lay ahead today or in her future.

They heard voices floating back and she could make out one word ‘Cornwallis’. Fear wrapped its hand around her, and she felt an ominous chill. Even she was familiar with his reputation for winning battles. Cornwallis had not sailed for England after all. He was here, in the flesh. The sound of cannon fire exploded, and all hell broke loose. She took cover in the thick trees with the other women.

Time seemed to stand still, and she held her breath, her world erupting once again. The cannon bursts were ear shattering, and she flinched with each shot. The ground shook, and Sarah was showered with icicles that fell from the tree branches. Her heart was beating so fast that she thought it would explode in her chest. The wind brought the smell of gunpowder, and she could taste the acrid smoke when she breathed.

The men at the front retreated across the small bridge at the creek. She could glimpse General Washington sitting astride his unmistakable horse, Blueskin. The horse was so light in coloration it appeared to be white. He looked brilliantly valiant while he sat next to the bridge, making sure his men escaped the barrage of gunfire from the British. His mere presence was a huge boost to the ailing army’s morale. She watched, awed, as he sat bravely ignoring the bullets whizzing past.

Dusk was falling, and the fighting ended, both parties were regrouping. Sarah spotted Silas' red hair from afar as she went to collect firewood. She relaxed a bit, knowing he was safe. She put her faith in Washington’s abilities. Any General who would put himself at the front of the line to encourage his men was worthy of her trust.

They had a thin soup for supper; you really couldn’t even call it a broth. She took a sip, watching the sunset paint colors across the sky. The night grew cold, and she pulled her shawl around her tighter. The cold pulled at her to sleep, but her head was too full of worry.

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