13. Fort Stanwix, Winter 1758-1759

2067 Words

“They’re out there,” Wooler spoke quietly. “I can feel them.” MacKim took a deep breath. He trusted the instincts of this serious-faced man. “We’ll still have to go,” he said. “Aye, MacKim. We’ll still have to go.” Wooler checked the flint of his rifle. “Let’s hope our supports aren’t far behind. We’re like the forlorn hope in your European wars.” “I’ve never been in a European war,” MacKim said. “Chisholm here has.” Chisholm nodded. “It’s a different kind of fighting.” “All right.” Wooler took a last long look at the forest. “Pray to God that we get through this day.” For one betraying moment, MacKim thought of Priscilla, and then he pushed her image away. If Priscilla knew how much he loved her, she would not have put her faith in him to guard her husband. “Snowshoes, boys, and ma

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