by Dawn Brower
“No.” Catherine met his gaze. Her lips trembled a little bit and her hands were shaking. She seemed to be feeling the same thing as Merlin. “You could stay, but you won’t. I understand. We all have a part to play. I see that now.”
He didn’t understand what she meant, but he was glad she wouldn’t be difficult. “I’ll come back to see you when I can.”
“Don’t make promises you might not be able to keep. Besides, I might not be here when you return. There’s someplace I might go instead.”
She was acting cryptically. Ash didn’t like it, but he had no place to tell her what to do. They had an odd relationship that he couldn’t define. They weren’t courting. At some point, he might have wanted to, but they wouldn’t have that chance now. What they had was a fragile friendship being torn apart by a war not of their making. “I’ll write when I can.”
She smiled, but there was an edge of sadness to it. “If I receive them, I’ll try to return the favor.”
Ash didn’t know why he chose to do what he did next. Maybe he’d always wanted to, or perhaps he thought he might never get the chance again. Either way, he didn’t question the instinct. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss didn’t last long, but it gave him a purpose he hadn’t had before. One day he’d find her again, and when he did, Ash fully intended on taking their relationship in a different direction. He’d met her for a reason, and he believed that was for more than friendship. Why else would he have spent so much time with her? Fate could be fickle, but in this one instance, it had given him the one person he needed more than anything—Catherine.
He helped her to her feet and walked with her until they reached her chambers. Ash didn’t follow her inside. That would have been beyond presumptuous and unheard of. Some proprieties had to be observed. He would keep his promise to her. He’d write as often as possible, and visit her wherever she ended up. A part of him hoped she’d return to England. It would be far less dangerous there… Somehow, he doubted Catherine would go anywhere deemed safe though. After she closed her door, he exited the embassy and went to his flat to grab his travel bag. He didn’t know how long he’d be gone, but he figured it would be quite some time until he returned again… This great war had recently begun, and it didn’t show any signs of ending soon.
Chapter 5
September 1914
* * *
Ash couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept. He’d crossed half of the French countryside gathering intelligence on those not on the side of England and its allies. He’d learned that German forces were moving closer to Paris. If they kept marching south from Belgium, they’d take the city in no time. There had to be a way to prevent it. If Catherine was still in Paris…
He rushed into the Major-General’s tent, the commanding officer of the British Expeditionary Force. That branch had been sent to help support the French army. He had to give the Major-General the information he’d gathered. He’d barely made it out of the German camp alive. There must be a guardian angel at his side keeping him safe. There was no reason he should have made it out unscathed.
“Sir,” he greeted him. “I have news.”
He looked up and nodded. “I could use something good. Please tell me our luck has improved.”
“I wish I could.” Ash frowned. “But maybe this will help turn the tide.”
Ash filled him in quickly about the Germans movement heading south toward Paris. So far, the battles hadn’t gone in their favor. They needed a win. They had to stop German troops from gaining any more ground. Paris couldn’t fall under their control. That would be a devastating blow to the allied side of the war.
“Tell me everything,” he ordered. “How long until they reach Paris?”
It wouldn’t take much longer. “In another couple of days, they’ll be closing in on the Marne River.”
The Major-General stared down at maps he had displayed on the table. “I think I know what we need to do.” He placed his finger on the map. “We need to send troops here.” Then he pointed to another spot. “And here. We will be able to take them by surprise and keep them from progressing toward Paris.”
The plan would work. Ash was impressed with the Major-General’s quick thinking and strategizing. He wanted to believe that this would end the war faster, but he didn’t think it would. This was the beginning of a very long and bloody war. One battle wouldn’t decide it. “What do you need me to do?”
“Keep me informed.” He stood to his full height. “Secret agents will help determine who wins this war. I hate to say it, but we need you sneaky bastards to keep us relevant.”
Ash didn’t like being referred to in those terms, but he couldn’t argue with the Major-General’s logic. Intelligence gathering did influence the outcome of a battle; however, it was a part of the entire picture. Someone had to assemble the necessary tactics, and then a lot of soldiers had to go out and put their lives on the line to implement them. “If you don’t need me…”
“I didn’t say that.” The Major-General frowned. “How do you feel about working with someone?”
He hated it. Working alone made it easier for him to sneak in and out of places. If he had to worry about another person, it might make his job that much harder. What was the man thinking? Didn’t he realize the whole point of spy work depended on the ability for him to be incognito? “It depends on what you have in mind.”
“There is a soldier in my regiment you might find useful. He has an uncanny ability to assess a situation like I’ve never witnessed before. I’d like his take on the situation. You’ll take him with you and scout ahead. Send him back once you’ve gathered all the information we’ll need.”
Ash gritted his teeth together. He would not lose control of his temper. That would not gain him any ground with the Major-General and would probably lead him down a path of no return. He had no idea how he could get out of the situation. There was one thing he could do. “Where do I find this soldier?”
The Major-General strolled past him and said something to someone outside. Then he headed back to Ash. “He’ll be here soon.”
Wonderful… “Is there anything I should be aware of?”
“Such as?” The Major-General lifted a brow.
“I don’t know.” Ash shrugged. “Whatever you deem pertinent.”
The Major-General didn’t bother to answer that. He went back to studying his maps. If Ash had ever wanted to use his rank as a way of gaining recognition this would be it. He kept his feelings to himself. There were more important things than his ego. Ash could swallow his pride if it ensured that more people would make it home whole and healthy. He didn’t want anyone to die because he couldn’t keep his arrogance in check.
“Sir,” a man walked in. “You needed me.”
The man was wiry thin and couldn’t be more than eighteen. He stood stiff, waiting for the Major-General to address him. In that, he was a professional soldier and would do whatever those ranked above him would ask. Ash didn’t think the soldier would even question an order given. In that regard, he was the perfect soldier.
“Private James,” the Major-General addressed him. “I have an important task for you. You’re to accompany Lord Seabrook on a secret mission. Follow his orders as if they were given directly from me.”
“Yes, sir,” he replied. “When do we leave.”
“Now,” Ash said. “We don’t have any time to lose.”
Private James nodded and then exited the tent. Ash followed behind him. There was nothing else he had to discuss with the Major-General. He’d already added something, or rather someone, to his mission he didn’t particularly appreciate. He prayed his new companion didn’t end up getting them both killed. Ash kept a short distance between him and the soldier. He wanted to see how long it would take for him to notice that Ash had stayed deliberately behind. The Major-General thought he had good assessment skills. The soldier stopped suddenly and didn’t glance back. Instead, he said flatly, “Since I’m supposed to do as
you say, perhaps you can tell me the direction we’re heading.”
He’d do. Ash jogged to catch up to him. The soldier had a little bit to learn, but Ash could teach him. Maybe they’d even make it back alive…
Catherine wiped sweat from her brow. They’d been working for hours as wounded poured into the hospital. She’d ignored Sir Benjamin and left the embassy. She’d trained to be a nurse, and the hospital needed her skills. Nothing he said could have persuaded her to do any differently.
The types of injuries she witnessed… They were gruesome. Torn body parts shredded beyond all recognition. Head wounds that left soldiers disoriented and broken. Those were all external. The true pain came from their souls, and the emotions they barely held contained inside of them. That was the true problem. Some of their injuries could be healed, and they’d return to the battlefield eventually. But the emotional chaos? It would take more than a few bandages and well-placed stitches to patch those holes.
“Nurse Langdon,” a doctor yelled.
In the hospital, she’d ceased to be Lady Catherine, daughter of a duke. She was judged by her nursing skills and ability to follow orders. The turmoil that ruled the hospital meant they needed quick thinkers and fast learners. Luckily, Catherine adapted well and had been trained by the best. She headed toward the doctor shouting for her and asked, “Yes, Doctor Quinn?”
“I need you to sit with this patient. He’s not doing well…”
What the doctor didn’t say was that the soldier wouldn’t make it through the night. Catherine usually sat with the terminal patients when it could be done. Her empathic abilities helped to take away some of their anguish. It left her drained and a mess afterward, but she believed in doing her part. “What is his name?”
“Private Brian Jones,” he said. “I’ll take you to him.”
Catherine nodded and followed him to the bed that the soldier was in. He had a bandage on his head that was drenched with blood. His left leg was severed past his knee, and his right hand was missing three fingers. She swallowed hard and grabbed the chair by the bed to sit with him. Catherine reached over and took his left hand in hers. Perhaps it was wrong of her, but she couldn’t bear to touch his injured one. Her heart hurt for him, and she wished she could have made him whole again. Nothing would ever make that happen for him. No amount of hoping or wishing would help the poor man lying on the bed.
She closed her eyes and reached deep inside of herself to the place she kept her empathic gift contained. Catherine had learned at a young age that she couldn’t let that particular gift out to play unless she wanted to be a writhing mess. It sneaked out from time to time, and snippets of other people’s emotions found their way in, but for the most part she had control of it.
Private Jones’s pain…it nearly felled her. He screamed deep inside for absolution. He wanted it all to end, and sadly, it was near, but not nearly close enough. She could help with some of his agony and give him a measure of peace. Catherine stripped away all of his uncertainty and doubt, then replaced it with lightness and a measure of happiness. Catherine opened her eyes and met his gaze. His eyes were glassy and showed no sign of awareness. “Sleep,” she encouraged him. “Soon you’ll be in a place without pain.”
She prayed he wouldn’t have to suffer for long. Some things were unbearable, and this topped the list. So much unimaginable damage had been done to these men, and for what? A stupid unnecessary war that shouldn’t have to be fought… She hated it all and wished she could go back and stop it. If she’d understood that vision, maybe they’d not have entered into the horrible situation they were in. There was no going back though. Some things were meant to happen, and no amount of visions could prevent them.
Catherine stared down at Private Jones. His breathing had slowed, and the raggedness had lessened. The more time she spent in the hospital, the harder it became. She wanted to help people, almost needed to. That same necessity had the ability to destroy her. How could she do what she had to when it nearly killed her each time she did?
“How is he?” Doctor Quinn said from behind her.
She didn’t look away from the soldier. He had closed his eyes several moments ago, and she didn’t think he’d live much longer. Watching the soldier slowly die was one of the hardest things she had ever done. She’d helped him because he had needed her; however, she couldn’t keep doing it. Any more dying soldiers and she’d destroy herself. She would have to limit herself to those that had a chance of making it.
“He’s almost gone,” she said. “I was about to pray for him.”
“I’ll stay here with you while you do.” The doctor folded his hands together and bowed his head.
Catherine lowered her head. “In your hands, oh Lord, we humbly entrust this soldier, Private Jones. In this life, you embraced him with your tender love and deliver him now from every evil and bid him eternal rest.” As she spoke the last lines of the prayer, the private stopped breathing. Trails of tears fell from her eyes. She wiped them away quickly and came to her feet.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to rest.”
She didn’t wait for the doctor to answer her. Some things went without saying. The doctor had known she was a skilled nurse that somehow did more for the patients then wrap clean bandages on them. He’d used that knowledge to his advantage. She couldn’t let him do that to her ever again.
Every one of those injured soldiers made her think about Ash and how she hadn’t received a letter from him since he left. He may have written, but she wasn’t at the embassy to receive them. Every day they were apart, she worried about him, and she realized her mistake too late. Without a way for them to communicate, she’d never know if he was all right, and that hurt her far more than the soldier’s death.
Chapter 6
The sun lowered to the horizon—an orange fiery ball that nearly filled the sky, obliterating the blue to almost nothing. The Germans littered the French countryside, making it nearly impossible for them to make any real progress. Private James sat down by a large tree and leaned his head against it. Ash didn’t blame him. Exhaustion had become their new normal.
“What are you thinking?” Ash asked as he sat across from James and leaned against a tree. The soldier didn’t talk much. It was a good thing for a spy, but it still seemed weird. He hadn’t met a lot of soldiers that kept to themselves quite like James. “The Major-General said that you are good with assessing a situation.”
He didn’t say anything. Just stared at Ash as if he didn’t recognize him. The private picked up a nearby stick and started to poke around the ground and push fallen leaves around. It took Ash a few moments to realize he was actually drawing on the ground. He scooted closer and perused it as James kept swiping the stick over the ground. The private had managed to create an exact replica of the enemy camp and every piece of artillery they had in their arsenal. They hadn’t even fully breached their encampment and he’d somehow seen it all. Ash had never been more amazed. He finally understood why the Major-General had sent him. “How are you able to do this?”
James shrugged. “I remember things. Always have.”
That was too simplistic. He didn’t recall the details. The private had managed to anticipate things and how the Germans would act—he’d included things in his drawings depicting patrol patterns, deliveries, and even movement in and out of the camp. Everything was labeled and clearly marked. They hadn’t seen all of that when they spied from a distance. One day the soldier would be a brilliant strategist and leader in the military—if he survived this war. So many good men had already died, and every day was one that could be their last. He stared at the young man, and it saddened him something might happen to the man. There was nothing fun about war.
While the sun was still high in the sky and they were taking a break, Ash decided to write a quick letter to Catherine. He missed her terribly. She had been in his thoughts every second he’d been away. There was nothing he wanted more than to see her again and ensure she remained safe at the emba
ssy. Sir Benjamin wouldn’t allow her to do anything foolish. Catherine would want to do her part and help those impacted by the war and the atrocities it created. She had a good heart.
Ash pulled out his notepad and flipped to and empty sheet. His pencil had dulled, and it barely scratched the paper. It would need to be sharpened—he pulled out his knife and slid it across the top until it had a solid pointed tip. He started writing the words he’d held inside his heart. Later, he’d post it so it was sent to her at the embassy. For now, it was enough for him to express his feelings for her. It hadn’t been until he left her that he realized how much she meant to him.
“We should start moving again. The Major-General needs the information we gathered.” Ash hadn’t wanted to bring the private with him, but he could see why he’d been chosen. His memory skills were far superior to anything Ash could have done. He’d scanned the area and tucked away the little he could. When he got back to their base, he would write a letter to the Earl of Derby.
James erased the drawing and stood. Ash came to his feet after him. They didn’t make it far before something whizzed by Ash’s left ear. “What the hell…” He pressed his finger to where it had gone by and found it wet. Ash stared at his fingertips and they were stained red.
“Germans,” James shouted.
They ran for cover as more bullets flew by them. There was a sharp shooter somewhere watching every move they made. Ash took cover behind a large tree, and James hightailed to another nearby one. Bullets sprayed the entire area and bark flew in all directions. There was definitely more than one German soldier in the area.
“We have to find a way out of here.” If they didn’t, they were as good as dead. At least one of them had to get back to the camp and give the intelligence they gathered to the Major-General. James made a better choice. His memory was superior to Ash’s. “You go, and I’ll cover you.”
