This was [I]not[/i] the future William Kutcher had envisioned for himself. At least, not yet. Hell, he was only 27 years old! And -- despite his years of [i]pretending[/i] the 18th century in his reenactments, his tours of historic places, even his few acting events -- such as recently playing out the signing of the Declaration of Independence for a group of middle school students -- he [i]certainly[/i] had never desired having a life similar to that which people like Edward and Keziah had lived And yet ... here he was. After almost a month of living the life of a spy and Militiaman, William had spent the past week living the life of a frontier farmer. (Well, [i]semi-frontier[/i] for [i]this[/i] time anyway: the Ohio and Mississippi Valleys to the east of here were the real frontiers now, and of course that would change when the boundaries of the United States continued to push ever farther and farther west ... then down into the deep oceans ... then high into the sky and space itself.) Edward had been teaching William all of the [i]manly[/i] tasks that came with maintaining a farm; and he'd even taken him turkey hunting and shown him how to set a bear trap, something about which William hadn't been enthused to learn yet did anyway. Keziah, meanwhile, had been teaching William the [i]woman's[/i] end of life in 18th century Massachusetts, which quickly confirmed in his mind that women of this era had, indeed, been the work horse of the American family. Oh, sure, Edward did the heavy work, the tasks for which little Keziah's body wouldn't have been physically capable. But the woman never stopped! From before sunup to beyond sundown most days, she was moving, moving, [i]moving![/i] [i]No wonder they died young[/i], William had thought to himself often. And all during this week, William had been careful to keep his growing feelings for the beauty hidden. Each day, he found his yearning for her growing in leaps and bounds, and he found himself getting excited so often that he'd had to take a couple of long [i]hunting[/i] walks alone to ... [i]relief[/i] some tension that not being able to touch her was causing him. Edward had noticed the way William looked at his daughter, as well as how more frequently and lengthy those looks were getting. But other than occasionally giving William a scrutinizing glance or a slight smirk -- which more often than not caused the younger man to blush fiercely and divert his attention -- the frontier father said nothing to him. Was he talking to his daughter about the relationship with the Hessian immigrant...? William wondered. The War had moved far off to the north and south after the recapture of Boston by the Continental Army, and William had very nearly forgotten about the fighting entirely. The little farm was far enough off the main road that the occasional passing of Patriot forces were often entirely missed. Occasionally, a Militiaman or a neighbor would come to speak to Edward about the latest news; and occasionally William would try to learn what was what; but -- after William had explained his part in the conquest of Boston to Edward -- the man had suggested that William remain in the shadows and went to great pains to keep news from him. The Militia escorts who had brought William to Lexington had stayed only a day, telling him that they would be back for him eventually. Yet, here it was, more than a week later, and no one had come for him. As evening fell and Edward -- exhausted from a day of working on a new outbuilding William -- fell asleep in a deep, comfortable chair by the fire, the younger man wandered outside to stand near Keziah as she performed another of her end of day tasks. He said softly to her, "I haven't forgotten our first kiss. Our [i]only[/i] kiss." He gave her a moment to react, not sure whether she would turn to speak to him or keep her face from him as she contemplated a reaction. But before she could say or do anything, William added, "I want you, Keziah. I want to be with you ... be with you ... like a husband and wife would be. I love you."