Love Held Captive

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  Miss Bernard sighed. “Yes! You knew her quite well, I believe?”

  “Indeed I did.” Now that the connection had been made at last, Julianne felt immeasurably better. “You’re kin to Dora? Well, that is something. She was a lovely lady.”

  “I don’t know if you remember, but you took care of her, and therefore us, during the last years of the war.”

  She shook her head. “I think that is putting it a bit thick.”

  “You brought her food every week.”

  “Nothing much to speak of,” Julianne pointed out. “Sometimes it was nothing more than eggs or greens.”

  “It was everything. Those items were how we survived.”

  A knot formed in her throat. “I didn’t know that.” Remembering what a dark time that had been, she whispered, “I don’t remember much about those years except trying to survive.” She coughed. “After the war? What did you do?”

  “Aunt Dora took us over to Fredericksburg. She had a cousin who was willing to take all of us in.”

  “So you went there.”

  “We did, miss.” They exchanged looks again. “After a few months, Aunt Dora passed away, but our cousins couldn’t have been kinder to us. We … well, we both have a very nice life now.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” Their gratitude made her feel inadequate. She hadn’t done much. Maybe she could have done more. “Thank you for letting me know you are doing well.”

  Miss Bernard leaned forward. “Thank you, but that isn’t the purpose of our visit. You see, we have been meaning to come see you for some time now. But we weren’t sure if we should …” She blushed as her voice drifted off.

  They weren’t sure about seeking her out because of her reputation. “I understand,” she said quickly. She wasn’t about to make them refer to her tainted past out loud. Or to have it presented to her face.

  The girl looked at her quizzically. “Do you? I don’t.”

  She looked sincere, but Julianne knew better than to believe anyone could be so naïve. She began to resent their intrusion almost as much as she resented the reminder about her past.

  She folded her hands in her lap with care while she took a fortifying breath. “It is no secret that I was an officer’s kept woman, Miss … Abby,” she said, her voice like ice. “Most people don’t want to associate with me because of that.”

  When Carl averted his eyes and Abby blushed again, she fought back the temptation to snap at them both. How dare they allude to her past, but then act as if it was too much to deal with!

  Frustrated, she pressed her lips together and began to hope this unexpected visit would soon end.

  As if Carl was sensing her dismay, he said, “What we’re trying to say, Miss Van Fleet, is that your past doesn’t matter to us. We were reluctant to come see you because we didn’t want to bring up that time in your life. On account that it is no doubt painful to remember.”

  “I appreciate your visit. Thank you.” Now she wished they’d leave.

  “I haven’t spoken to you to simply express my gratitude, Miss Van Fleet. I came in the hopes that I might one day be your friend,” Abby said. “So I might seek permission to call on you at your home.”

  Her friend? “I beg your pardon?”

  “I would like to visit you from time to time. That is, if you wouldn’t mind my company.” Softly she added, “You see, I recently became affianced to Preacher Timothy. I am very excited about the match.”

  “I wish you much good fortune,” Julianne said haltingly. “However, I must stress that you mustn’t feel obligated to visit. You don’t owe me anything.”

  “That is where you are wrong, Miss Van Fleet. We owe you everything,” Carl said. “Please don’t say no.”

  “I won’t say no.” She did her best to ignore the tears that had just formed in her eyes.

  Abby’s smile was nearly blinding. Or perhaps it was simply beautiful. “I’m so glad. Thank you, Miss Van Fleet.”

  It was time to let down her guard. It was obvious that God had brought these two people to her for a specific reason. They’d come to remind her that faith, hope, and trust were not pretty, antiquated words that meant little or pertained only to other people. No, God had brought them into her life so she would believe in a future again. And maybe that was the essence of it too. It didn’t matter that the future wasn’t promised to be perfect or free from hurt. What mattered was that she was going to have one. Yes, it was time to stop subsisting in near isolation, bearing all the shame of her past, and start living again.

  And since she was well aware that faith, hope, and trust did exist—though she’d given up imagining they existed for her—she held out a hand. “Please, if we are going to be friends, you might as well call me by my Christian name. Julianne.”

  Immediately, Abby slipped her hand into hers and clasped it tightly. “I would enjoy that. Thank you, Julianne.”

  “And I as well,” Carl said.

  Thirty minutes later, when she was alone again, Julianne wondered how the Lord had known she’d needed Abby and Carl. They’d come at the perfect time, just when her heart had been breaking over the loss of Devin Monroe.

  Just when she’d been at her lowest point.

  How had he known? Was it simply because he was God and all-knowing?

  Staring at the road out the café’s front window, she decided it didn’t matter after all. For whatever reason, they had come, and their kindness had transformed her. She felt lighter of spirit, fuller of heart. Her cloying depression had lifted.

  That was enough. More than enough.

  8

  It turned out Aileen really hadn’t minded if Lizbeth stayed the night. And an hour after firing her, she came all the way up to Lizbeth’s room to say her husband would compute her final payment in the morning. He’d been sidetracked by attempting to wrangle a group of disreputable gunmen in the hotel’s bar.

  She also told her Bushnell had made no complaint, but she and Dallas still thought it was necessary for Lizbeth to go because of her interaction with Major Kelly. She’d had a strange look in her eye when she said that, but Lizbeth didn’t have the energy to ask why.

  Aileen told her all this after she made Lizbeth promise she would stay in her room like a wayward child. Lizbeth felt so fragile, she would have agreed to anything as long as she didn’t have to leave the hotel immediately. She’d lain down early in the evening and tried to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes, memories of being alone in her house on the ranch invaded her thoughts.

  Just as she had been pulling out a sheet of paper to begin listing all the options for her future she could think of, Callie knocked on her door.

  Lizbeth answered it with mixed emotions. Callie was her closest friend in the hotel, and talking to her usually brightened her day. But Lizbeth was afraid this conversation would only reinforce how hard it was going to be to completely change her life once again.

  To her surprise, Callie didn’t look full of questions. She was wearing a concerned expression. “Oh good. I was afraid you weren’t going to answer the door.”

  “Is something wrong? What do you need?”

  “I don’t need anything,” Callie said in her breezy way as she sauntered inside. As usual, she’d taken off her white maid’s bonnet and stuffed it into a pocket. Therefore, her brown hair was on display. Today it was artfully arranged into an elaborate configuration of braids. It always struck Lizbeth that Callie’s penchant for a fancy coiffure, in stark contrast to her rather plain features, was an effort to present herself as more than a maid in a fancy hotel.

  But Callie knew that’s all she was. Lizbeth, on the other hand, had recently remembered her previous life made her more than that. Inside, she was still a lady.

  Taking note of Callie’s expectant expression, Lizbeth arched an eyebrow. “You came up here to say hello?”

  “Of course not. Downstairs, we all got to talking about what happened to you. I was elected to come up as the representative.” She smiled, looki
ng very pleased with herself.

  “So you came up here to check on me?”

  “No. I came up here to give you this.” She held up a canvas tote bag. “See? We all got together and brought you something.”

  Stunned, Lizbeth took the tote from her. “Thank you.”

  “Go ahead,” Callie said, gesturing with her hands. “Open it.”

  Lizbeth pulled open the heavy tote and nearly gasped. Inside were two wrapped sandwiches, a container of cookies, and a Mason jar of lemonade. “This all looks wonderful. Thank you.”

  Callie lowered her voice. “We heard how Mrs. Howard warned you to keep out of sight. It’s just her way to forget that you need to eat and drink, same as anyone else. You’d think she wasn’t related to you.”

  Lizbeth didn’t comment on that. She had a feeling Aileen had other concerns on her mind.

  Callie waved her hand. “Keep digging. There’s more.”

  After carefully setting the sandwiches on her bed, she pulled out a large envelope. Inside were several notes … and a large collection of coins. “What is all this?”

  “Come now. You know what it is. It’s some money for you.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” Tears were threatening to prick her eyes, which would be a mistake. Callie was never a fan of emotional women.

  But to her surprise, Callie reached out and clasped her hand. “You don’t need to say a thing. Though it ain’t a big surprise that you’re getting fired on account of some horrible gentleman guest, it’s still terrible.”

  “Please thank everyone for me. This … this is so very kind.”

  “I’ll pass on your thanks, though it’s a real shame you aren’t allowed to come downstairs and do it yourself.”

  “I’ll be all right. No doubt I’ll catch up on my sleep.”

  “That would be a treat, wouldn’t it?” After squeezing her hand again, she said, “Do you have any idea what you’re gonna do now?”

  “No. The only plan I’ve been able to come up with so far is to get a room in one of the inns in the area for a while.”

  Callie’s eyes widened. “Which one? Some of them have terrible reputations.”

  “I’ll stay at whichever place has a room for me. I’m not going to try to find work yet. No one is going to hire me without a recommendation.” Carefully putting the sandwiches back in the tote, she said, “I’ve saved some money. That, along with what y’all have so generously shared, should be enough to give me a few weeks’ reprieve while I decide where to go next.”

  “So you’re planning to leave San Antone.”

  “I don’t have a choice.” Lizbeth needed to get as far from Daniel Bushnell as she could.

  She also needed to distance herself from Aileen and Dallas. She didn’t know what to think about her cousin. They weren’t close, but Lizbeth had thought she meant more to Aileen than she obviously did. After everything they’d both been through during the war, Aileen was still putting the needs of the hotel above her cousin’s. But she also knew Aileen wasn’t about to upset Dallas. A husband had been hard to come by during the war.

  Callie nodded. “I understand. I’d want to leave too, if I were you.” She sighed. “I’m sure gonna miss you, though.”

  Realizing she was going to end the battle with her tears, Lizbeth crossed the small room to her side. “I’m going to miss you too. You’ve been a good friend.”

  Callie hugged her quickly and then hurried to the door. “I best get back to work. You enjoy the sandwiches now. And don’t leave town without saying good-bye to all of us, okay?”

  “I won’t.” She smiled bravely until her door closed again. She figured it didn’t matter anymore if she cried or not, and she at last gave in to tears.

  It wasn’t as though there was anyone around to see them fall.

  Now this morning, Lizbeth shook off the memory of her talk with Callie the night before and left her room, her cloak around her shoulders and her bag in hand. Just as she was walking through the lobby, about to claim her last paycheck from Dallas in his office, Major Kelly appeared at her side.

  She was relieved he wasn’t Bushnell, but still, he made her flustered. Her cheeks were no doubt burning bright red, but she forced herself to greet him. “Good morning, sir.”

  “And good morning to you,” he said as he curved a hand around her elbow. “I’m delighted I located you so easily.”

  “Sir?”

  “Miss Barclay, may we talk?”

  Yet again he was standing so tall, so well dressed, and so debonair. Though she wasn’t wearing a maid’s uniform, her dark-brown dress made her feel like a plain wren next to him. Then there was the fact that his easy smile and charm affected her too much. Being around him made her think of things she had no business thinking about. He was everything she shouldn’t want in her life. Everything that was beyond her grasp, even if she did want a man like him.

  No, it was much better to work on putting some distance between them, which meant she needed to do what she could to get him to turn away. Attempting to tug her elbow from his clasp, she said, “I think we’ve said everything there is to say, sir.”

  “I happen to disagree.” Instead of loosening his grip, he tightened his hold on her. It wasn’t painful, but it also didn’t leave any room for her to refuse to walk by his side.

  “Come along,” he said easily as he guided her into a hall. He didn’t look down at her. Instead, he kept his hand on her arm and escorted her into one of the private lounges some of the wealthiest guests reserved from time to time.

  For a moment she considered simply leaving, but then she decided to listen to what he had to say. The truth was she didn’t fear him. She also no longer had anything to lose.

  After she perched on the edge of a plum-colored velvet chair, he sat down across from her. “Do you know what you are going to do now?” he asked, obviously not wanting to waste another second.

  He knew she’d been fired? Aileen had probably told him. Or maybe it was obvious because of the bag she’d been carrying. Glad that she had a plan, she nodded. “I do. I have some money saved up. I’m going to stay in one of the local inns for a few weeks while I look for work.”

  He frowned. “You plan to stay at an inn by yourself?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “I don’t think that would be wise, Miss Barclay. A young woman, living alone? That isn’t safe.”

  She almost laughed. “It’s dangerous for a woman on her own everywhere. Even here.”

  But instead of looking chastised, he seemed pleased that she’d brought up that point. “That is why I wanted to speak to you. I’d like to help you.”

  She stared at him guardedly. He seemed sincere. But even if she completely trusted him—which she did not—she couldn’t imagine there was any way he could help her.

  “Help me? How? Find employment? If so, I should tell you I don’t intend to stay in San Antonio.”

  “You mean to move? Where?”

  “As far as I can.” She shrugged. “Maybe Fort Worth. Or, I don’t know … Maybe I’ll head to Galveston.”

  “That’s very far, Miss Barclay.”

  “That’s the point. I need to start over someplace where no one knows me.”

  “Doing what? Cleaning guest rooms?” His voice was thick with contempt.

  “Maybe.” Embarrassed, she said, “Or perhaps I’ll try to find employment as a nanny or governess.”

  “Those jobs are around children.”

  She laughed. “I realize that, Major. I happen to like children.”

  Looking at her intently, he said, “I have a better idea.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Allow me to intervene.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Miss Barclay, let me find you a new job. With my connections, I’m sure I could find you something better.”

  She would have rolled her eyes at his heavy-handedness if she wasn’t fairly sure he probably could find her a better job than she could on her o
wn. But that didn’t mean she had to accept his offer. “Sir—”

  “Let me help you,” he pressed. “If you don’t want my help finding employment, at least let me help you find a suitable place to stay. You need to be someplace safe, where you won’t be fending off men like Bushnell. I know he was the one who accosted you. I knew him in the war. He was no better then.”

  He must have eavesdropped on everything she and Aileen said in the hallway outside his suite, but she decided to let that go when she noticed he was staring at her scar again. And that’s when she realized he really did pity her. He wanted to find her someplace where she could be safe and secluded. Alone. Where no one would ever stare too long at the scar on her face. Or say anything unkind.

  “You know I can’t let you do that, sir.” If she accepted his help, she would owe him.

  “You could if you wanted to.” He stared at her, his eyes filled with so many turbulent emotions she thought she could read his mind if she were so inclined.

  “But I don’t.” She smiled slightly, needing to take the sting out of her words, though she knew there was no real reason to do so. “I need my independence. It’s important to me.”

  He looked tempted to object but shook his head. “I don’t want to argue with you.”

  “We agree on something, then.” She stood. “Now, thank you for your concern, but as you can see, I am fine.”

  “You are very far from fine, Miss Barclay.”

  Her cheeks heated again. “Even so, I am not downtrodden. Not yet. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

  “Hold on.” He got to his feet. “I have been wondering something.”

  “Yes?”

  “Forgive me for asking, but does this sort of thing happen often? Do men accost you in rooms often?”

  “No.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I’m starting to realize you are a gifted liar.”

  “I’m not a liar, sir.”

  “Then tell me the truth. Do men accost you often when you are working?”

  Had it happened before? Of course it had. They were in Texas, barely two years after the end of a long and bloody war. Everyone’s morals were in upheaval. Women no longer expected to be cosseted. And men? Well, most of them had become hardened. Some were now cruel, as if all the softness and compassion in their hearts had been emptied on the battlefields.