For Love or Country: The MacGregor Legacy | Book 2 by Jennifer Hudson Taylor

Captain. Please do not tempt my daughter further. It has taken me years to convince her to retire the weapons her father should have never given her.” Mrs. MacGregor’s gaze slid to the floor and she grew pensive. “Malcolm always did have a soft spot for the lass. She could convince him to concede to things none of the rest of us could. I think the lads often resented it, but then they were just as guilty.”
    “I think if I were to have such a daughter, I might be the same way.” Hugh sat back and crossed his booted foot over his knee. “There was only my brother and myself, so we never had a sister to pamper or protect.”
    “Believe me, sir, I was never pampered,” Tyra said. “Da made me work hard, fight hard, and earn my rewards just like my brothers.” Tyra turned to her visiting relatives. “Enough about me. What news have you brought us?”
    Her uncle cleared his throat with a quick glance at Hugh before turning to Mama. “The Patriot leader, John Ashe, has been captured. He is being held in a cell at the Burgwin House.”
    “At least he was not beaten, paraded around town, and left out in a blockhouse to freeze to death.” Tyra didn’t bother hiding the hard edge in her voice. “Do you know if Mr. Harnett is still outside or has he been brought into a cell as he should have been with the rest of the prisoners?”
    “I am afraid he is still outside, exposed to the elements,” Uncle Ollie said. “And as for Mr. Ashe, I am quite certain he was beaten as well. ’Tis the way of things in times of war.”
    “But it does not make it right.” Tyra let her tone drip with contempt.
    “Tyra, my dear, I believe ye need a wee bit o’tea.” Mama poured steaming tea into a cup and brought it over. “Here ye go, lass. Drink up.” She leaned close and mouthed the word, “hush.”
    “I declare, but we shall run out of firewood if we do not take an ax to some logs soon,” Private Truitt said. He stood and walked over to Kirk. “Why not help me, lad? Between the two of us, we could finish before we freeze.”
    “Aye.” Kirk nodded, pushing himself from the wall. “It gets boring when they all sit around and talk.” Private Truitt grinned and slapped a hand on his shoulder, leading Kirk into the hallway like old chums.
    Hugh made no effort to join them, and Tyra assumed he intended to make sure they had no privacy with their relatives. He didn’t trust them, which meant she should not trust him. The knowledge stung with reality, but she would accept it. She turned to look out the window as she sipped hot tea. The winter grass had turned brown with patches of green and the tree limbs were bare. White clouds filled the sky, hiding the sun as if it no longer existed. The cup warmed her hands as she gripped it tight.
    “Captain Morgan, since some time has passed and Mr. Harnett has sufficiently suffered from the weather, may he be taken inside with the rest of the prisoners?” Tyra asked. She glanced in his direction and held her breath, hoping to appeal to his compassion. His gray eyes blinked. Tyra recognized the same sensitive expression he had shown when he had thanked her for saving his life.
    “When next I go to town and report to Major Craig, I shall inquire about the matter.” He finished the rest of his tea and leaned over to set his cup on the tray. “I give you my word.”
    “It will be kind of thee, Captain Morgan,” Aunt Carleen said. She turned her attention to Mama. “Lauren, I had hoped thee might have some news from my brother or from one of thy lads?”
    “Nay, I have not.” Mama shook her head. “’Tis quite disappointing. I must rely on news printed in the Cape Fear Mercury , but of course, ’tis only general news. Never anything specific to my Malcolm and the lads.”
    “Did thee have a good Christmas?” Becky asked, her smile lighting up with enthusiasm. Quakers didn’t celebrate Christmas the way they did with elaborate decorations, gift-giving, and feasts. To them,