To Love a Spy

by Aileen Fish

  Juliet nibbled her lip. “So you think I should marry him.”

  “I think you should follow your heart. What is your heart telling you, Juliet?”

  Juliet folded her arms on the table and buried her head in them. “I don’t know. I’m so confused!”

  Her mother patted her arm. “Give it time. The answer will come to you. All you need is time.”

  Time… Was time a friend? Juliet couldn’t be sure. It always seemed to be working against her. After all, Cole may very well be out of time. His injuries were severe and he may not survive them no matter how tough he was. In the end all of her deliberation may be for naught.

  ~*~

  Days slid into weeks and the weeks slid into months with no word from Cole. In late spring the blessed news arrived that the war had ended. General Lee had surrendered to General Grant in Virginia not fifty miles from Juliet and her mother’s small farm. The news brought relief and celebration and the return of many many sons and husbands. It was a time for celebration, tears and grief. More than anything… it was a time to start anew.

  Juliet waited every day for word from Cole, but nothing came, not even after the surrender. Eventually she was forced to accept that he’d likely succumbed to his injuries and would not be coming home. As had become her habit in the last few years, Juliet simply accepted the reality, squared her shoulders and soldiered on. Life continued even in the face of loss and sadness. It was high time she and her mother plan for the future and start working the farm again.

  One particularly fine afternoon Juliet went to the garden to work. The low-set sun cast warm rays over her shoulders and for the first time in a long while she felt happy. Humming to herself she pulled weeds and watered the sprouting plants.

  “I say, you’re a fair sight cleaner than the last time I saw you.”

  Juliet froze, dropping the watering pot at her feet. Her heart skipped with excitement as she whirled, eyes lighting on the striking figure of a man straddling a magnificent horse. “Cole!” She was half-tempted to pinch herself to ensure this was not yet another dream. She didn’t want to wake and be disappointed again.

  With a brilliant grin he swung off of Hercules.

  Without a thought she ran into his arms and threw her arms around his neck.

  Laughing he scooped her up and spun her in a circle.

  “You horrible man,” she chastised without releasing him. “You might have written!”

  “And ruin the effect of my return? Never.”

  Juliet stepped back. “Let me see you.” She flicked a critical eye over him. He’d lost some weight, but overall he looked well, healthy, and he wore a sharp gray suit that hugged his frame like a glove. “I thought you must have died.”

  “Are you pleased to see me then?” he asked hopefully.

  She beamed up at him. “There are not words.”

  Hope and longing shined in Cole’s eyes as he stared down at her. “I love you, Juliet. I’m sorry fo—”

  “Enough.” She cut him off and pressed a finger to his lips. “I don’t want to speak of the past. It’s behind us and it’s time to move forward.”

  Cole nodded and sucked in a deep breath. “I want to get married,” he said in a rush. “But I want you to have all the facts before I ask you again.” He drew a deep breath, and slid his palms around her waist. “Apparently I impressed the right people with my efforts during the war and I’ve been offered a position with the Pinkerton detectives. I’d like to take it.”

  Juliet blinked in surprise. “Oh my, that is very prestigious. W-we would have to move away.”

  “Yes,” Cole replied solemnly. “I think that might be for the best though. The word must be out that I was being hunted as a Yankee spy. I’ll be little more than a leper in these parts.”

  “That’s true,” Juliet said. The rumors about Cole had been flying since she’d returned home. Surprisingly she’d been spared from most of the gossip.

  Cole glanced away nervously. “You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?” he muttered. “Never mind that, I deserve no better.” He cleared his throat and stepped away. Dipping one hand in his pocket he withdrew a diamond ring that glittered in the sunlight.

  “Y-you bought me a new ring? But I still have the other one. I—”

  “New beginnings require new rings,” Cole interrupted. A grin toyed at the corners of his mouth. “Now if you’ll excuse me I’m trying to propose.”

  “Oh, yes, I’m sorry. Do continue.”

  “Juliet Jackson,” he began, “I love you as I have no other. You have been my dearest friend since childhood and you have seen me through the most trying times of my life. You have seen me at my best and my worst, and it is my solemn vow never to lie to you again. You are my strength, my future, and the love of my life. Will you forgive me my past transgressions, and do me the undying honor of becoming my wife?”

  Tears of toy welled in Juliet’s eyes as she closed the distance between them and sank into the grass. Sliding her palms over his smooth, clean-shaven face, she dropped a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you too, Cole. Nothing would make me happier than to be your bride. Today if possible”

  Laughing out loud he lashed his arms around her and gathered her close. Together they tumbled into the sweet smelling grass. Juliet laughed and curled her fingers into his thick dark hair. He took her lips in a long slow smoldering kiss that held the promise of a lifetime. Finally he drew back. “I can’t believe you said yes,” he said quietly. “I was afraid I’d lost you for good.”

  “I’ve had a lot of time to think and sort things out,” she said, idly stroking his hair. “The war is over and I want to move forward. I can see no future without you by my side.”

  “You’ll move away with me then? You’re willing to leave home?”

  “Yes,” she replied, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for another sweet kiss. “I suppose that’s the price for loving a spy, but I’d rather think of it as our next adventure.”

  The End

  Books by Melissa Lynne Blue

  Forget Me Not

  Light to Valhalla

  Bewitched

  Love Lies Traitors and Spies

  Langston Brothers Series:

  Edge of Time

  Cadence

  11 Hour Rose

  Fool’s Gold

  The Soldier’s Christmas: A Langston Brothers Novella

  The Christmas Ghost: An 11 Hour Rose Novella

  Also by Melissa Blue from Entangled Publishing

  Confessions of Love

  About the Author

  A Registered Nurse by night, Melissa battles the stresses of life and illness by enjoying uplifting tales of love and romance. A firm believer in true love united with an enduring fascination with history has prompted her pursuit of romance writing. She lives in beautiful Big Sky Country Montana with her husband and children.

  The Mapmaker's Wife

  Kathy L. Wheeler

  Copyright © 2015 by:

  Kathy L Wheeler

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  This book was built at IndieWrites.com. Visit us on Facebook.

  Acknowledgments

  I’m the best blessed ever! Thank you to my most supportive husband, daughter and mother and cousin, Jaynnie Seeburger. Critique partners Alicia Dean, Christy Gronlund and Betty Sanders. And, more best friends than a girl deserves in one lifetime.

  Chapter 1

  Fogland, Rhode Island – December, 1863

  Such a young angelic face. Upturned nose, plump lips and violet eyes, all framed with dark lush lashes, to match unruly curls. That impish she-devil’s index finger of her left hand stroked the strip of a shiny blue ribbon that, granted, would look lovely in such dark locks, only after a well-needed run-in with a brush.

  Elizabeth Ruthers retreated into the shadows, eyes narro
wed on that beautiful child, no older than seven or eight years of age. Her large eyes darted about. The imp was fast—but not as fast as Elizabeth. She struck as quick as a rattlesnake, snagging the tiny wrist just as her hand disappeared into the front pocket of her wrinkled apron.

  The little thief froze and the air went taut with tension.

  “Well, Miss Gertrude. What have you to say for yourself, this time?” Elizabeth’s question, softly spoken, seemed to jolt something within her captive.

  She lifted her head, meeting Elizabeth’s direct gaze. Tears, resembling large raindrops, pooled in her eyes.

  Elizabeth steeled herself against that innocence. Such manufactured purity, should Elizabeth been able to find a way to bottle it, would have netted her enough funds to support the Union soldiers to the end of this bloody war. “I’m waiting.”

  She blinked once, and a single tear rolled down her grimy cheek.

  “Well, then. If you cannot answer me, perhaps you shall be more inclined in answering your father.”

  Fogland, named for its proximity to the wild forest adjacent, was ordinarily a place of calm and respectability. But this child, Gertrude Williams, was known for her wild nature. Her temper tantrums were notorious. In a swift and agile turn, she twisted and tried to jerk her wrist free, but Elizabeth tightened her grip. Well and truly caught, Gertrude turned on Elizabeth, flailing and kicking, but Elizabeth was ready for such antics and pinned the girl’s arm behind her.

  “He doesn’t care what I do.” That little high pitched squeal was another weapon Elizabeth forced herself to ignore. “Ow. You’re hurting me.”

  Ha! Elizabeth wasn’t hurting her. She’d learned her lesson once before, letting down her guard too soon. Gertrude was down the street like a bolt of lightning. “We shall just see about that.” Elizabeth marched her charge to the front of the store and out the door.

  A biting wind straight off the Mt. Hope Bay chilled the late October air. Elizabeth glanced up and to the north. A line of swirling dark clouds was almost upon them while directly overhead a hazy sun still shined. Looked like winter would finally be making its appearance. Could be as soon as early evening. The coming storm would have the townspeople housebound by morning. She grimaced. Including her. Something to worry about later. Right now, she had a juvenile purloiner to deal with.

  John Williams’ print shop was located directly across the street from Millicent’s General Store. Millicent, half-blind, half-deaf owner of the general store, had been otherwise occupied, allowing Elizabeth to deal with the evolving situation. Gertrude was lucky Miss Millie hadn’t been the one to catch her. A shudder skittered up Elizabeth’s spine. The batty old woman might have pulled out her shotgun, waylaying any questions. At least Elizabeth was prepared to let Mr. Williams deal with the problem.

  She tugged Gertrude up a wooden step to the plank and pushed open the door. A small bell jangled, announcing their presence. Mr. Williams sat hunched over a large angled table near the back, partially blocked by a tall room divider, ignoring them. The force of her ire snapped. “Mr. Williams?”

  The shoulder beneath her hand relaxed a mite. “I told you he doesn’t care.” Despite the cool nonchalance that spilled from Gertrude, Elizabeth was almost certain she detected a slight quiver from the child’s delicate frame. Whether it was fear, hurt or something altogether different, she couldn’t say.

  A second later John Williams—all six feet, two inches of sheer male force appeared—depleting the room of what little air the tiny storefront supplied. Gertrude stiffened.

  “What is it?”

  Elizabeth had always heard his bark was worse than his bite, but suddenly trapped by eyes a shade darker than that of his daughter’s and a voice reverberating against wood countertops and walls, she wasn’t so sure.

  That piercing gaze shifted quickly to her small charge. “What the blazes are you doing out of school?” His demand was not what one would consider gentle, as it seemed to rattle the glass in the windows too.

  Gertrude’s spine straightened and her chin lifted. “There was no school today, Papa.” Her small voice rang out strong and defiant.

  “Then what’s the purpose of this visit? I have work to do.”

  Gertrude’s last breath expelled from her small body, and it infuriated Elizabeth. But this was the third time she’d caught Gertrude pocketing items from Millicent’s, and if Elizabeth didn’t nip Gertrude’s actions now, no telling what trouble the child would land in next. “Are you aware, sir, that your daughter has been stealing?”

  “Stealing!”

  Both, Elizabeth and Gertrude flinched. But again, Elizabeth knew it was now or never. “Show him, Gertrude.” She squeezed the girl’s shoulder.

  The atmosphere was fraught with tension, but after a slight hesitation, Gertrude held out her hand. The shiny blue ribbon entwined her fingers like a knotted rope.

  He winced then furrowed his brows. “Is that what this is about? Trudy took a scrap of…of...”

  “Of ribbon. Yes. It’s called theft. Perhaps you’ve heard the term?”

  “How much? I’ll just give you the money.”

  Gertrude shot Elizabeth a smug look over her shoulder.

  She ignored it. “And this will help your daughter in what capacity?” Elizabeth demanded.

  “I’m doing important work here.”

  Elizabeth shook with fury. “Your daughter is important work too.”

  Gertrude sniffed. It was suspicious at best. “I’m sorry, Papa. It…it reminded me of Mama.” She turned her face in Elizabeth’s direction and poked out her bottom lip. “She’s been g-gone…so long.” The tears dripped. She looked back at her father.

  John Williams’ rough demeanor went instantly soft and he held out his arms. Elizabeth was so shocked at this farce display of dramatics, her hold loosened and Gertrude launched herself at her father. He braced himself against the doorframe—the only sign of the injury she’d heard he’d sustained in the war—but deftly caught the child.

  Elizabeth pointed at her. “She turns those tears on and off like a hydrant,” she said incredulously. “Are you going to let her manipulate you like that?”

  Cradled against his hard torso, Gertrude appeared as tiny as a porcelain doll. “And I suppose you, a spinster quite on the shelf, could do better?”

  She flinched at the ruthless, yet accurate description but pulled herself up. “Indeed, I could. That child needs guidance, attention, discipline.” His whole attitude disgusted her.

  Two pairs of matching purple eyes narrowed on her, sending a flutter of nerves deep in her belly. His shrewd, Gertrude’s triumphant. Her arms slipped about her father’s neck, her cheek rested against his.

  “Then perhaps, Miss Ruthers, you would do me the great honor of marrying me.”

  ~*~

  “What!” The simultaneous cries of outrage were almost amusing except for the small matter of his only child caught pilfering. All for a strip of blue ribbon. John realized better than most how awful a father he was. The small body in his arms was so fragile, his chest ached.

  Trudy stiffened in his hold. “No. No, Papa. I don’t want you to marry a spinster.”

  Elizabeth Ruthers wore her hair so tightly wound at her nape it tilted her eyes slightly. Eyes that resembled the moss in the creek that ran behind his and Trudy’s home. Her slender body stood rigid, prepared for flight. Lips compressed in that heart-shaped face at his absurd proposal.

  Yet, was the idea of marriage to a well acknowledged spinster all that absurd?

  Trudy did need a firm hand, someone home to create a sense of stability. To keep her from underfoot until the Union could finish off this blasted war. Bragg’s tactical win at Chickamauga, was a setback. Only a portion of the Federals under General Thomas staved off disaster by holding Horseshoe Ridge against the Confederate generals’ repeated assaults. With the issuance of the Emancipation Proclamation to declare slaves’ freedom, victory was close. So close John could taste it. His fingers tingled with the
urge to get back to his drafting table. And the maps he needed to hand over to Nigel.

  “I’ve no desire to marry you or any man.” The words, conveyed in a proper tone of outrage, would have held more sway. Instead, they emerged as breathless hope or perhaps, a whispered fear.

  Either of which had him studying the heightened color in Miss Ruthers’ creamy cheeks. The elegant hands and bared slender fingers. His idea held merit. Admittedly, offering to buy Trudy’s way out of thievery not only would fail to teach all that he stood for, but certainly reinforced the notion of the ass he undoubtedly was.

  The information he was detailing for the Chattanooga Campaign was crucial. Thomas was counting on him. Nigel was expected within the next day or so.

  He narrowed his eyes on the staid young woman. Marriage would gain him time, and save the town from Trudy’s increasingly outrageous deeds.

  “You insult my intelligence, Mr. Williams.”

  Her eyes surveyed his humble shop, the worn settee before the window, his drafting table just behind with a large drawer pulled out, keys hanging from the lock, the dusty countertops. The place needed a thorough going over when seeing it from another’s eyes. But he hadn’t the time nor the patience to consider someone assisting him.

  Her gazed rested on him once more. “Just so you know, I cannot nor am I inclined to save Gertrude from Miss Millie’s wrath once she learns the truth.” The look she cast Trudy manacled his chest. One mixed with compassion and sorrow. She spun on a booted heel and flew through the door.

  ~*~

  Silence filled the shop with his shock and Trudy’s anger. She struggled against his hold until he was forced to set her on her feet.

  Tiny clenched hands fisted at her hips. “You shall not marry her!”