New York - The Novel

time, contemplating the situation, until he was interrupted by a commotion at the door. In some surprise, he went into the hall, to find Hudson struggling to close the door upon two large men. A moment later, the door burst inward.
    And he stared in horror.

    There were only a few people on Bowling Green, and it was easy to entertain little Weston. James had taught him to throw and catch a ball, and all you had to do was throw the ball to him by the hour.
    “Throw higher,” he would cry, or, “Further away.” He loved to show how he could jump, or dive for a catch. He was remarkable, she thought, for his age. Abigail always worried that he must long for his mother, and hoped she was able to make up for some of that lack. So although she found it quite boring to play catch for hours, that was more than made up for by the joy of seeing the little fellow so happy and proud of himself. She only wished that James were here to see it.
    How excited she’d been when James had first returned. How tall and handsome he was. What joy she had felt to see him sitting at the family table. And what relief. With James there, she’d been sure, things would go better.
    It had been on the third day that he had broken the news. He and his father were closeted together nearly an hour. She’d heard her father’s cry of pain, then raised voices, then a long rumble of conversation before her father had emerged, looking pale and grave.
    “Your brother has decided to support the Patriot cause,” he told her. “I understand his reasons, though I do not agree with them. Now, Abby,” he had continued gently, “we must keep the family together, you and I. Discuss the subject with James as little as possible. On no account argue with him. He is your brother, and you must love and support him. Above all, little Weston must hear no cross word in this house.”
    And that was what they had done. No one entering the house would ever suppose that James and his father were on different sides. The news of the day was discussed calmly. Master might offer an opinion on the competence of Washington, or the incompetence of the troops he was raising. James might shake his head over some unwise or arrogant decision made in London. But their discussions were always polite.
    Not long after his return, they had all gone up into Dutchess County. Abigail had happy memories of visits to her grandfather, old Dirk Master, at his farm when she was a little girl. After he had died, John Master had kept the farmhouse, which they would use from time to time in the summer. The family’s sizable landholding in the county was managed by her sister Susan’s husband, along with his own estate.
    On this occasion, they had stayed with Susan. It had been pleasant enough. Susan was becoming quite matronly now, and though happy to see her family, was more preoccupied with her children and running her farm than with the great affairs of the outside world. Her husband, a brisk, cheerful man, put it bluntly.
    “We aim to stay out of trouble here, if we can.” He and James seemed to get on well enough, but Abigail could tell that, family loyalty aside, they had not much in common.
    Just before they left, however, Susan did take her brother by the arm in an affectionate manner, and urge him: “Come to see us again, James, and do not wait too long. I am glad, after all these years, to know my brother again.” And James promised that he would.
    As for her own relationship with her brother, Abigail could hardly have asked for anything better. He would often sit with her, tell her about the things he’d seen. Though his appearance was dignified, he could regale her with funny stories about his student days to make her laugh. He soon discovered the things she liked, and even with the port closed to English trade, he’d manage to find her something—some lace or ribbons, a book, or even a little posy of flowers that would please her. As for his son, he was a model father. When she watched him playing with Weston, or teaching him to read, or took the little boy for walks, she felt so proud of James.
    And so, thank God, it was possible for her to love and respect both her father and her brother. She ran the house now, pretty well she thought. Hudson and his wife consulted with her on all day-to-day matters. She did her best to be a comfort to her father, a companion to James and a mother to Weston.
    But why was James alone? Where was his wife? Soon after his arrival, Abigail