Just Jane by William Lavender

Bringing a barge up Delaware Bay in broad daylight! Many a time I warned him about thumbing his nose at the British like that. He wouldn’t listen.”
    â€œYou warned him, did you?” Simon snapped. “How very decent of you.”
    Becky gently intervened. “Stop it, Simon. Mr. Murphy’s not to blame. Jack was doing what he felt he had to do, the best way he could.”
    Simon turned a scowl on her. “Did
you
ever warn him, or try to talk him out of it? You knew he wasn’t suited to that kind of work, with his poor health. If the British hadn’t gotten him, sickness eventually would have.”
    Becky turned sharply away as Murphy spoke up again. “We are desperate, Mr. Cordwyn. Another winter like Valley Forge and Washington will have no army left—you said so yourself. When a man offers us his services, we don’t turn him away, no matter what his weaknesses. Why, if an educated, well-informed, and responsible man like yourself offered to work with us, we’d get down on our knees and thank God.”
    â€œFlattery!” Simon almost spat. “The same kind you fed Jack, no doubt.”
    â€œHe spoke about you often, you know,” Murphy went on, ignoring Simon’s hostility. “‘How I wish we could get Simon in with us,’ he’d say. ‘He’s far more clever than I, and what’s more, he knows the South.’”
    â€œWhat’s
that
got to do with anything?” Simon demanded impatiently.
    â€œIt’s clear we’re going to have to shift our operations to the South. With the British watching all our usual landing sites, the only good ones left are the wooded inlets and river mouths along the Carolina coast. The Great Wagon Road, between there and Pennsylvania, has got to become our main supply line. Trouble is, we don’t have anyone to oversee operations down there. Southerners are insanely proud men, impossible to deal with. But you lived in the South for several years. You must still have valuable contacts down there. Am I right?”
    Murphy paused to wait for a reply, but getting nothing but a stony glare from Simon, he went on. “Surely, Mr. Cordwyn, you can see where your duty lies. Out there, giving your countrymen the benefit of your abilities. Not here, hiding in a schoolroom while men fighting for our liberty are dying for want of supplies. Think it over. You know where to reach me. And now I must be off, so I’ll bid you both good day.”
    Becky put a hand on the visitor’s arm. “I thank you for bringing us the news of my husband, Mr. Murphy.”
    â€œMadam, believe me, I regret the necessity for it. But we may yet hold good hopes that he survives. Meanwhile, my admiration for you knows no bounds. God keep you, dear lady. You are a true Patriot.” And with a curt nod to Simon: “Remember, sir. Grimsby’s Tavern, Philadelphia. Anytime.” Then, jamming a grimy cap on his head, he turned abruptly and walked away.
    In the silence that followed, Simon studied his sister’s face. It was blank, the eyes vacant. “I’ll stay with you and the children tonight,” he said gently.
    She shook her head. “No. No, thank you, Simon. I’m all right.”
    â€œWell, at least I’ll walk you home, then.”
    It was a quarter of a mile to the Herndon house, and they walked halfway there in silence, immersed in their own dark thoughts. At last Simon spoke.
    â€œTell me something, Becky. And be honest. Would you really want me to leave you on your own here and rush off to replace Jack?”
    Becky drew a heavy sigh. “I’m sure you’re doing what you think is right, just as Jack did. But you can’t blame Mr. Murphy for trying to recruit you. You’d do a far better job than my poor Jack ever did. Dear God!” Seized by some wrenching emotion, Becky stopped in her tracks. “If only I could wave a magic wand and combine my husband