Answering Liberty's Call

Thomas answered my tap at the door. “Anna! Come in.”

“Thank you. I thought I’d take you up on the invitation to visit.” 

Betsy hurried to embrace me, and we clung together. “My, we miss you and the children. How are they?”

“Everyone is well, but another matter is causing me concern. May I have a word with you both?”

“Of course.” Thomas pulled out a chair for me.

Betsy took my cloak. “Sit you down and I’ll pour some tea. Can you stay for dinner?” 

Luxuriating in the sting as I wrapped my cold hands around the steaming mug, I felt the tension ebb out of my shoulders. In the past ten years, I spent nearly as much time here as in my own home next door. “I’d love to, but I mustn’t. There’s so much to do. Yesterday I received a letter from Benjamin.”

Thomas nodded. “See, what did I tell you? No need to worry.”

“I’m not so sure about that. In his other letters, he wrote that he and my brothers were well. I suspect it was not always the whole truth, but he meant to spare me worry. This time, he wrote that Henry and Jeremiah are ill and he lacks warm clothing—so I must assume their situation is desperate. You’ve said as much yourself, Thomas. I’ve decided to go to them.”

“By yourself?” 

When I nodded, Betsy clutched my arm. “No! How can you ever? It’s hundreds of miles.”

“I can do it.” I looked at Thomas for support but he shook his head.

“Traveling those roads is a hardship. You don’t want to do this.”

“But I must! We’ve already lost Baylis. I grew up separated from my brothers and now I cannot bear the thought of losing them—or Benjamin. What if he has fallen ill since he posted the letter? How will I live with myself if I don’t go?” 

The only other time I saw Thomas this serious was when he told me of Baylis’s death. He shook his head. “It’s an arduous, bone-chilling journey this time of year and I’d advise any man against it.”

“I’m not any man.”

“Not by a sight, you aren’t. If determination alone would get you there, I’d put my money on you. Ben told me once, soon after you married, that telling you ‘no’ seemed to make no difference at all.”