[Color=tan]"William..."[/color]

He had been on the verge of consciousness, the movement of someone in bed next to him unusual.  Her speaking of his name revived William enough to hear her next words clearly.

[Color=tan]"It's morning."[/color]

William's lips widened into a pleased smile.  Last night had been unbelievable.  He'd gotten married.  William, the perpetual bachelor, was now a husband.  And his wife had shown him one of the many wonderful aspects of being wed in the 18th century once they'd gotten themselves out of their clothes and between the layers of bedding.

With his eyes still closed, William pulled Keziah tight to him, kissing her forehead.  Their second time together had been different than the first: Keziah had seemed more relaxed and less tentative, perhaps because she wasn't sinning this time around; and -- though he [i]certainly[/i] didn't perform like he may have with a coed he picked up from some university sports bar -- William put a little more [i]creative effort[/i] into ensuring that Keziah remembered this night for more than just the fact that it was sex between her and her new busband.

"I love you, Keziah [i]Kutcher[/i]," William whispered, smiling even wider in the low illumination of the turned down lantern across the room.  He rolled to lay on his side, opened his eyes and let them adjust, and looked over her beautiful face ... then her mussed hair before chuckling and whispering, "It's gonna be tomorrow by the time you get that brushed out.  Are you gonna wake up every morning looking as though you spent the night rough housing in bed?"

He let her respond, then kissed her softly, then again more intimately.  He let a hand begin to caress its way down her womanly curves, whispering, "Make love to me again ... wife ... before I leave..."

..........

Edward was standing with the Sergeant and a pair of Militiamen clear down at the end of the corral fence, giving the couple space to make their good byes.  In his new Continental Army Lieutenant's uniform, William felt dashing.  Without any weapons, though, he also felt a bit vulnerable and helpless.  He was sure he would be provided a sword and pistol soon.  He just hoped it would be before coming across a Redcoat patrol.

William pulled Keziah to him, kissing her deeply before whispering, "I [i]will[/i] be back ... soon."

After she's spoken her piece, William looked over his uniform again, then looked to the three men and their multiple weapons: pistols, muskets, bayonets, swords, and knives hung all about their bodies.  He was suddenly reminded -- as he had remembered often over the past months -- that this was no longer a reenactment.  This was the real thing.  This was the Revolutionary War.  And when people fell to the barrage of rifles and cannons, tbey didn't wait for the Announcer's recap to the crowd, then stand, bow, and head away with the enemy for a Starbucks or a Budweiser.

"We could run," William said, almost before he realized he'd said it.  Already having begun, he clarified, "You, me, Rose Anne ... even your father.  We could go east ... away from the fighting ... to Ohio ... Iowa ... even Colorado."

Of course, he knew they couldn't.  Even if Keziah didn't think it cowardly or unpatriotic or simply implausible, those areas weren't yet safe for people like them.  Oh, sure, Ohio would be okay: there were plenty of British settlements there, some even loyal to the Rebel Cause.  But Iowa was still [i]Injun[/i] country, and hell Keziah probably hadn't even heard of Colorado yet, which even the Spanish had only barely explored despite having claimed it for generations by this point in history.  No, William might not want to leave Keziah ... but he was...