Washington's Providence by Chris LaFata

Author:Chris LaFata
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: history, american revolution, time travel, freemason, george washington, french and indian war, casanova
Publisher: Chris LaFata

SIXTEEN

Light crept into the small room, a welcome relief after a night of misery. I was ready to get back on the road and out of the tavern. I felt like I hadn’t slept, but I must have at least had an hour or two. Maybe not.

Stiffness paralyzed my body and it took a moment to sit up.

Mark sat on the edge of the bed, already awake and anxious to continue. “Let’s get out of here. We can probably reach Frederick by late afternoon––Oh, my ass.” He winced as he swung his legs off the bed. “How was the floor?”

“It sucked. I’m not doing that again. What happened to your face?”

His nose had a huge red welt on it.

“Fleas,” he said.

“Me too,” I said, pointing to my cheek.

“I left my contacts in overnight. That was stupid,” he said as he took them out and put on his glasses. Round, black metal frames were connected by a wide nose bridge, making them rest awkwardly on his face. Both earpieces had round ends half the size of the lenses.“You better not say a word about these.”

“Aww, you look cute.”

We hobbled out of the tavern and limped to the stable. I didn’t want to get on my horse. My legs were raw, but the blisters on my feet were worse. Riding was the lesser of two evils.

We mostly rode in silence. Mark seemed a little more comfortable riding on his second day.

After a half hour of riding, he broke the silence. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. My deodorant wore off too.”

“No, about all of this. This quandary we’re in. This was my fault. I never should have suggested you. You have a family. You shouldn’t be here.”

It was upsetting to feel trapped––especially in a place more than two hundred fifty years in the past. I knew Mark felt bad about us being here, but it wouldn’t have done either of us any good to be angry about it. We needed to accept our predicament and figure a way out.

“It was my decision,” I said. “No one forced me. Anyway, I didn’t have that much going for me. My contract ran out, and since Amanda took Tabby out of state, it costs me a good chunk to see her. You offered a nice payday. Besides, we’re not trapped. I’m treating it like an extended vacation in a third-world country––like we joined the Peace Corps. Why are you bringing this up?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I guess it’s Mr. Meade. I’ve been thinking about him constantly since we discovered the money.”

“And?”

“Meade did know something,” he said. “He had to. I didn’t put it together until now. A few weeks ago, when we were looking to hire a tour guide for Washington’s inauguration, Meade had everyone put together a list of suitable candidates––not just Dr. Cohen like we’d done in the past. We mostly came up with historians, authors, historical re-enactors—those kinds of people. I didn’t even have you on the list—sorry.”

I didn’t say a word. I felt

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