December 1773

“You sure about this?”

“Positive. This is a turning point and hugely famous! I promise you all!” Emeline replied. Looking out over their faces, she smiled confidently. “The Boston Tea Party is a slap in the face to Britain. They will be upset. Actually? The British will be quite angry and try to punish us…” she hesitated. Did she really want to be responsible for ushering in the war or was it something that was inevitable anyway? She had grown to know and care for many during the last three years. The thought of being responsible for death and destruction was devastating as she looked over their ambitious, strong profiles.

“Let me guess, they will levy more taxes on us or find some other way to make our lives intolerable?”

“I know that this is a pivotal moment that launches the war for our freedom. If you want liberty, this is our next move. If there are any doubts, you must think long and hard before taking the next step. I do not want a war but I do value the freedoms it will bring. War will carry death across the land and we have so much precious to fight for,” she pleaded, looking at William’s proud visage as he held their dark-haired son.

“You must be certain that life and liberty is worth all you desire or hold precious,” she finished softly, meeting her husband’s knowing look. He always seemed to know just what she was thinking and how she was feeling. It had been such a gift to be dropped into his life that she couldn’t imagine a world without him. Yet, here he was getting prepared to participate in a traitorous act that would catapult them into war that could separate them forever.

William stood tall dressed in as much brown clothing as they could muster up among a large cluster of men. Several large feathers were tied in his dark hair, along with the others in an attempt to look like Indians and not colonials. Proud, angry, beloved faces looked at her expectantly. Great streaks of color did not detract from their expressions. If anything, it made them look even more fierce. She could see why Indians used war paint. The intimidation factor was chilling.

Emeline hesitated. She had a blessed life with William and suspected that she was pregnant with another child. She had yet to tell him and planned to do so soon once she was sure. Her first child had been such an easy pregnancy and birth, she anxiously awaited the day that she would be able to give him another one. She would never forget the love and pride in his face as they held little Will for the first time in their arms.

There had never been a moment’s regret in their handfasting. Their bond was special, sacred. William had been nothing but loving and tender with her. This tenderness carried on towards his son as well. War was inevitable and would be heartbreaking, but she also knew it would be vital if America was to be free and history would continue along the same timeline.

“There will be several ships. You need not strike them all. Focus your efforts on one or two only. Make sure you are all safe. That includes you, Samuel, you hothead! My son’s godfather must be available for church on Sunday,” she said affectionately. They had grown to be good friends after the initial skepticism she met with. Times were tough and everyone unknown was a spy. It was hard not to find fault when presented with a stranger who had a wild tale of freedom.

“Tonight’s event will be shared far and wide. You will be famous. Your stories will be told through the generations as you create this great nation. I am so very proud to be a part of you and a part of our country.”

“Hear, hear!” Samuel cheered as he stepped forward to take the dais. He held her hand to aid her down the steps as she returned to rejoin William. This was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. Her heart was pounding at the idea of history being made. Not just any historical fact, but the launch of the American Revolution.

The group listened carefully as Samuel gave orders. He had planned down to the smallest detail. He knew of which ships would be at port and how best to get out of there alive. She trusted him with their lives and that was no small feat.

She took young Will from his father’s arms. She quietly swayed back and forth to put him to sleep during the revelries because a crying child could cause alarm. Emeline could not wait at home worrying. However, she could not bring herself to go to the docks either. She would never get over her fear of drowning that had developed from her encounter with Eve on that fateful day. Instead, she would have to be content to wait at the meeting house. As the men trailed out, she grasped William’s shirt for a moment. Tugging, she pulled him into an embrace causing a squawk of protest from their sleeping child.

“You come home to me safely, Mr. Spencer.”

“Nothing will keep me from your arms tonight, love,” he pledged with a tender smile and disappeared into the darkness. She stared as the last man moved out of the meeting house, leaving several women behind. They stared at each other and made their way into the pews to pray fervently for their men’s safe return. Emeline felt their eyes boring into the back of her head and she wished memory served her better. She was pretty positive that all came back unharmed but this was history in motion. The merest change could have a drastic outcome.

Glancing up from her hands clenched in prayer, she was relieved to see little Will was now sucking his thumb, fast asleep as he lay in the wooden pew beside her. William’s carvings along the top of each pew were evident and a silent reminder he was with her even if she was alone.

Rest little one, you will always be protected by your mama and papa, she thought idly. There will be so many changes that will affect his life, as well as hers. It was terrifying and she found peace in knowing how the war should end. It was the unknown if they would make it through that kept her up at night. Tonight would be no different. There would be no rest until William and the others had returned safely. Fear ate at her, knowing that her very presence could have changed the outcome.

Eve? she called out mentally, not expecting an answer. It had been years since she had reached out to the strange creature that brought her here in the first place. She still didn’t know if Eve was a guardian angel, a deity, or simply something magical that fell in-between those labels.

Hello, little titmouse. It’s been a very long time, Child, Eve said gently.

I never really thanked you for… well, all of this! she responded, hesitating. It’s kinda hard to thank someone for drowning them and then plopping them in the past.

True, Eve replied tenderly. But I never really expected a thank you either.

Well, I’d like to thank you just the same.

You’re welcome. Is that all you needed?

No, Emeline answered after a moment. I feel ungrateful even asking this, but did my being here change history or put William in danger? I’m not sure I could handle that.

You’ve handled this all smashingly well so far.

And you didn’t answer my question.

Being here did change history, but in a positive way, little titmouse. You and William will have a long, happy life.

You know, I don’t even mind the small boob jokes from you anymore. So, he is safe?

Yes, yes. But the rules still apply to me even if they have been abolished for you.

They have? What rules apply to you?

I can’t tell you too much or it affects history. I can only guide you to a certain outcome. I, nineteen.

What? Nineteen? No, I’m thirty-two now. She was confused, shaking her head. So, my being here and meeting William was guiding a timeline to a certain finish? So, I really did have a purpose coming here? Not just marrying him but it would have been different if I hadn’t come before…

B, four! Bingo! Right here, bingo!

Hello?

Oh sorry, I’m multitasking and they just called my number. Can I let you go?

Seriously? You are playing bingo?

No, not playing. Conquering! I am the bingo champion! I just won the game, so it’s over. Listen, we all love you, Titmouse - but my TV is up there and the caller didn’t hear me. BINGOOOOOOO!! If he calls another number and I lose, I’m gonna be hostile. BINGOOOO!!! RIGHT HERE YOU, BUTTER BEAN!! I GOT IT! Don’t you dare pull another ball from the hopper or I will be hay bales to pay! You got me, old man? That’s my darn TV!

Chuckling silently, Emeline smothered a laugh as the woman behind her reached over the pew and patted her reassuringly on the back. Emeline pulled a handkerchief out, breathing deeply of William’s sandalwood scent. She dabbed skillfully at her eyes, trying to cover her laughter.

Let them think I am crying, she decided, glancing down at her sweet son’s sleeping smile as he dreamed. Crying with joy over how crazy her life had changed and how wonderful it was now.