Love Held Captive

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  “It’s good you’re rid of her,” Thomas said. “I’ve known a lot of women and men who take what they can and when they can. They’re a smarmy lot. She would have made you miserable in the long run.”

  “Would she? I’m not so sure about that.”

  As Thomas retreated to his cot, Ethan hung his head. He hated these barracks. Hated this situation. Why had the Lord placed him here? Why could he not even have a few minutes of privacy when his heart was breaking?

  Needing to get out of the room before he broke down or broke something, he stood up. “I can’t sit in here any longer. I’m going to take a walk.”

  “You think that’s wise in this sleet?” Phillip asked.

  “Does it really matter? I’ve already been assumed dead or worthless. I’ve already been tossed over for a Lieutenant Chubb. He’s whole, you see. And hasn’t had to live through the vulgarity of a prison camp.” After throwing on his tattered jacket, he grabbed a blanket, threw it over his shoulders, and headed out into the elements.

  When the freezing sleet brushed against his face, stinging his skin, he welcomed the pain. And when he got back inside, no one would realize he’d been crying.

  Then, to his surprise, the door to the barracks opened again. Out came four of his friends, wrapped in blankets like he was.

  “Couldn’t let you have all the fun,” Devin Monroe said. “Besides, after everything we’ve been through? Well, we figured a little bit of sleet and ice wasn’t going to hurt us none.”

  “We’re made of tougher skin than that,” Markham added.

  When Thomas started whistling and walking ahead, Ethan, Truax, and the other two men followed. And that was when he knew Markham hadn’t been exaggerating. They were war hardened and mentally and physically tough. A little bit of bad weather wasn’t going to faze them. It seemed only letters like Faye’s could.

  Receiving a letter like that? It cut like a knife.

  20

  She’d lived within a three hours’ ride to San Antonio all her life, yet Julianne had never ventured close to it except that one time when she’d met Bushnell at the officers’ ball.

  When she was younger, there had been no reason. Like children so often do, she’d been comfortable in her surroundings. She’d mistakenly assumed everything she saw and experienced was all there was in the world.

  Then as a young woman, she realized there was far more to see than what was in Boerne, Texas. But she had been afraid to leave the security of home. She’d become aware that she’d been blessed with good looks but little money and no prestige.

  And that, she’d come to realize, was a dire recipe for a successful match. She’d been afraid to go to any of the large assemblies in her town, fearful that her grand dreams of fitting in and being courted would be easily put to shame.

  Then, when the war had come? Well, she’d ventured all the way to San Antonio—and circumstances had conspired against her.

  When Devin Monroe approached her at the mercantile, Julianne dared to wonder if he was the answer to years of hopes and prayers. During the war she’d seen her world grow dim, and what she’d thought to be true had been turned on its ear. She’d lost hope in both herself and that anything could be different.

  But from that first conversation, Devin had brought a good amount of light into her world. And by the time he told her he wanted to marry her someday? Well, her life had changed again. He’d restored her belief in humanity and the future.

  But that didn’t mean she had been willing to do anything but wait for him to make the next move, to come back as he promised. As hard as it was, she’d been willing herself to sit home and dream and wait. To hope.

  The truth was, until Abby and Carl had encouraged her that morning, a part of her had been resigned to being alone for the rest of her life. It was too hard to believe a man like Devin Monroe would want to risk everything by taking her for his wife one day.

  Until Daniel told her what he’d done.

  Then everything in her world changed again. The moment she learned Devin had been shot, and wanted to believe he was still alive, she knew it was time to do whatever was necessary to be by his side. She owed it to them both to be stronger than she was. That was what love was, she guessed.

  With Carl’s help, she’d purchased a ticket for the stage to San Antonio. And now it had deposited her at the entrance to the Menger. She’d hardly had time to gaze at the sprawling brick building before she was greeted by two bellmen. In no time at all, they’d taken her small carpetbag in hand and were escorting her inside.

  They were treating her with respect. Like a lady. As though she were a woman of means. Like she used to dream she would one day be treated. But that wasn’t important to her now. Learning of Devin’s fate was.

  “Did you have a good trip, miss?” the youngest bellman asked, his expression filled with appreciation as he helped her walk up a small flight of stairs.

  She forced herself to smile as she hurried. “Yes, I did. It was uneventful, which is always good, I think.”

  He smiled. “My ma says the same thing.” Blushing slightly, he tipped his hat and nodded toward the reception desk. “Well, here you go. Mr. Howard, the manager, will get you set up in your room.”

  “Thank you for your help.” Despite her urgent quest, she remembered she should give him something for his efforts. She pulled out a bit and pressed it into his palm. He blushed again before turning away.

  “May I help you?” Mr. Howard was a rather haughty-looking man.

  “Yes. I believe Captain Devin Monroe is here. I just learned he was injured while on his way here. I believe he would have come to one of your guests—a Major Kelly.”

  “And you are …?”

  “I am Miss Julianne Van Fleet, a friend. Please answer my question. I must know.”

  Howard looked reluctant, but he answered. “You are correct. Captain Monroe is here, with Major Kelly in charge of his care.”

  She lowered her head for a moment in relief before gathering herself again. “Thank you, sir.” She was eager to go straight to Devin’s side, but she knew she needed to wash off the worst of her travel dust. “Now, may I please have a room.”

  He lifted his chin and looked just beyond her, as if he was looking for someone important. When he directed his stare back at her, his voice was even cooler. “Do you have an escort?”

  “Pardon me?”

  “A chaperone?” he added with obvious impatience. “We only accept ladies here.”

  “I arrived on my own.”

  “If you are traveling by yourself, it would be best if you moved to a different hotel. This is the Menger, you see. We have a reputation to uphold.”

  They had a reputation to uphold? Well, so did she! And she wasn’t leaving Devin.

  Staring at the supercilious man, Julianne realized she’d had enough. She had had enough of men telling her what to do and where to go. She’d just survived several hours in a cramped and hot stagecoach next to a pair of men who had obviously not bathed in weeks and a pair of elderly women who insisted on talking about nothing the entire journey. Her head hurt, her body ached, and she was afraid for Devin Monroe.

  She needed to see him, and as soon as possible.

  She drew herself up to her full height and dared to look at the manager in the eye. “It would suit me best if you gave me a guest room, helped me with my baggage, and then directed me to where Captain Monroe is recuperating.”

  When the man gaped at her, she raised her voice. “Perhaps I need to speak more clearly. I demand that I be taken care of immediately.”

  His eyes darted behind her, glancing around the lobby warily. She, too, was aware their discussion was being overheard, and no doubt gossiped about.

  Though she wished it wasn’t the case, she had no choice in the matter. She had lived for years with a tainted reputation. She wished the same thing wasn’t happening here, but Julianne knew she could handle it.

  Keeping her voice firm, she held out a hand. “Mr
. Howard? My room key, if you please?”

  Looking resigned, he drew out his guest book, spoke to the gentleman behind the counter, and pulled out a key. “Here is your key, miss.”

  “Thank you. And now may I please have Captain Monroe’s room number?”

  “We don’t announce guests’ room numbers. When you are ready, Jim here will escort you,” he said with pure ice in his tone. “He will assist you with your bag as well.”

  She was so relieved—not only because the man had acquiesced but at the confirmation that Devin was alive—she felt like crying. Holding on to the last of her composure, she turned to Jim, who was of African descent, and was also standing as tall and strong as a redwood. “Thank you, Jim. If you could accompany me now, I would be appreciative.”

  He nodded. “Miss,” his deep voice lumbered.

  Aware of the many curious glances, she followed Jim, taking care not to look either left or right.

  “Your room is on the second floor, miss.”

  She climbed the stairs, her feet feeling like lead as she maneuvered her skirts. Then they walked silently down a long hallway. Both the hallway and the doors were painted a cream color. Brass gas fixtures cast a faint glow on the carpet and walls, making the hallway seem warmer and more inviting than her greeting in the hotel’s lobby.

  When they stopped at her door, Jim unlocked it for her, opened it wide, and then stood to the side. “I’ll wait here for you, miss.”

  Eager to see Devin, she nodded. “I’ll be back out in no time, Jim.”

  He shrugged. “Don’t make no difference to me, miss. Take your time.”

  Smiling softly, she said, “All the same, I won’t be long.”

  When she closed the door, she exhaled. She had done it. She had poked and prodded her way into San Antonio, and into the Menger Hotel. Now all she had to do was hope and pray Devin would be pleased that she had come.

  If he wasn’t? Well, it wouldn’t be the worst thing that had ever happened to her. Not by a longshot. She was a survivor, and no matter what happened, she would survive again.

  Julianne felt all her bravado fade twenty minutes later when she was following Jim again. It didn’t seem to matter that she’d donned a rust-colored taffeta gown with jet buttons and an attractive curve to the bodice and sleeves.

  She might look her best, but she knew even when armed with a whalebone corset and a well-fitting garment, nerves could get the best of her.

  Without a word, Jim escorted her back down the stairs, down yet another glowing hallway, then eventually to a large, ornately carved oak door.

  “Where are we?”

  “This here is where we put guests who don’t want to be found, miss.”

  “And that is where Captain Monroe is?”

  Jim shrugged again. “Seems that way.”

  “Is he a frequent visitor here, then?”

  He looked down at her, his expression carefully blank. “Don’t believe so, miss. To my knowledge, this is his first visit—at least as a guest.”

  “I’m told Major Kelly is with him. Is that correct?”

  Jim didn’t look as though he wanted to answer. After a small pause, he nodded. “Yes’m. I heard the major was watching out for him right now.”

  Realizing just how little she knew about Devin, she swallowed. “It’s good to know he has a friend here.”

  Jim looked as though he was tempted to say something about that, but merely nodded. “Yes, miss.”

  He guided Julianne into a far dimmer hallway, then stopped at a closed door just off to their right. “This is it,” he said, then turned before she could thank him for his assistance.

  Seconds later, she was alone in the hallway and staring at the door. She hesitated, listening for voices on the other side. She heard nothing. But it was time. Drumming up her courage, she twice rapped her knuckles on the plain, nondescript door.

  It swung open abruptly.

  To her surprise, a tall, lean man filled the threshold instead of the older man she’d been expecting. Leaving her to face an attractive man about Devin’s age with brown eyes, light-brown hair, and a forceful presence. “Yes?” He spoke in a low voice, and she followed suit.

  “Are you Major Kelly?”

  “I am Ethan Kelly, yes.”

  Feeling more assured, Julianne looked him in the eye. “My name is Julianne Van Fleet. I have come to see Devin Monroe. I believe he is in here?”

  The man’s expression hardened. “How did you know he was here in this room?”

  “From Mr. Howard.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Howard simply came out and told you?”

  “Well, I had to do a bit of persuading. And to be fair, he never did tell me the location or the room number. Instead, he had Jim escort me here.”

  “Jim.”

  “Yes. He’s, um, he’s a servant here, I believe. He walked me to my room, then here. He was very nice.”

  “Miss, perhaps I should rephrase my question. How did you know Captain Monroe was in residence at the Menger?”

  “Someone told me he’d been hurt, and I knew he’d been on his way to see you.” Feeling his intense gaze practically sear her insides, she swallowed.

  “Who told you?”

  Though she knew he deserved an answer because he was only trying to help Devin, Julianne didn’t want to admit to learning about Devin’s injury from the man who’d shot him.

  Remembering that speaking forcefully had gotten her a room key, she adopted the same tone again. “Sir, may I please enter now? I’ve traveled some distance to get here, you see.”

  But still, he didn’t budge. “Beg your pardon, but your needs do not interest me in the slightest.”

  His words were a shock. On the outside, he looked just as gallant as Devin appeared to be capable and forthright. At first glance, one might even assume they were polar opposites. But now she saw the similarities. They were both hard on the inside.

  This man, this Major Kelly, seemed just as solid and steady in his views and viewpoints as Captain Monroe was. He did not waver. Ironically, instead of causing her worry, it made Julianne feel more secure in his company. She could handle anyone who was honest. It was the liars and the charlatans that gave her pause.

  “Perhaps I should have given you more information when I introduced myself,” she said slowly. “I know Captain Monroe is here because he told me he was coming to you. And I know he suffered a bullet wound on his way. And I know this because I also know the man who shot him.”

  “And how do you know that man?”

  “Because I used to be Daniel Bushnell’s mistress. When I scorned his latest attempts at my home yesterday, Devin was there. He threatened him, and he shot Devin in retaliation.”

  Something flickered in the major’s expression. Because of the dim lighting, Julianne wasn’t exactly sure what it was. Disapproval? Shock? A vague sense of humor about how small and insular their world had become?

  Whatever the reason, he seemed to have at last come to a decision. And with that, he opened the door wider, stepped backward, and bowed. “After you, Miss Van Fleet.”

  Putting her extensive experience of looking composed to good use yet again, she walked through the doorway.

  Then she saw Devin Monroe lying in bed, his chest and shoulder bandaged, his skin a deathly white.

  She was going to lose him. Before she’d ever had Devin, she was going to lose him.

  And the knowledge was so dark, so tinged with despair, Julianne burst into tears.

  Uncaring of her lovely dress, uncaring of her audience, she went to the bed and sank to the floor by his side. Clasping Devin’s hand, she pressed his knuckles to her lips and cried.

  21

  Even if the open doorway hadn’t brought a chill into the room, Lizbeth was certain Ethan’s frosty demeanor would have. From her position, where she sat on a small wooden chair next to Captain Monroe, it seemed as if Ethan had brought in a cold wave of anger.

  That was surprising. What was more sur
prising, however, was the anger and irritation that had emanated from him as he let one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen into the suite.

  Concern mixed with a thick dose of jealousy hit her hard as she watched him close the door behind the woman. Where had she come from? And why had he let her into this sanctuary?

  But although she had many unanswered questions about Ethan, she couldn’t help but stare at the woman. After all, how could she not? It was dark in the room. Lizbeth thought for a moment that it should have made the woman’s hair look faded or even dark. Instead, the rich auburn color fairly burned brightly. As did her blue eyes. Her striking looks, combined with the rustle of her well-made gown, made Lizbeth feel much like the country mouse in the big, bright city.

  Lizbeth wondered if the woman even realized she was in the room. Because the moment she walked near the bed, she stilled. Her hand lifted. Pressed against her mouth.

  And then, without warning, she sank to the floor and burst into tears.

  Stunned, Lizbeth jumped to her feet and crossed the room. Eager to help, she glanced at Ethan to see if he wanted to give her direction.

  He appeared just as taken aback as she was. Actually, he looked rather frozen in place, as if he had no idea how to deal with this. Then something clicked and he stepped closer. Bending at the waist, he reached for the woman’s arm. “Miss, allow me to help you to a chair.”

  But the woman didn’t acknowledge him.

  Lizbeth didn’t think she heard Ethan. After a small sigh, she pressed her lips to the captain’s hand again. “I’m so sorry, Devin. So very sorry.”

  Her devastation and obvious love for Ethan’s friend was both beautiful and heartbreaking. Lizbeth felt herself choke up.

  After several more minutes, the woman whispered something in his ear. Then, with softly murmured thanks, she accepted Ethan’s help and rose to her feet, looking bereft and alone, staring down at Captain Monroe with such longing in her eyes that Lizbeth felt like an intruder.

  Ethan must have felt the same way, because he stood motionless as well. When he darted a look in her direction, Lizbeth knew she had to ease the situation. It seemed all her experience with tears was going to come in handy.