Love Held Captive

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  But how could she say anything about that without including the major in that group?

  Maybe it didn’t even matter. “‘Often’ is a relative term, sir,” she said stiffly. “I have been accosted before, but never, um, in the way Colonel Bushnell did.”

  The muscles in his jaw tightened. “You need a protector.”

  “I need a new life, Major Kelly. But since that isn’t forthcoming, I am going to settle for a new job.”

  “Will you at least allow me to escort you to Harrison House?”

  Harrison House was a small inn just a few blocks on the other side of the Menger. Though she’d never been inside the establishment, she’d walked past it many times. It had the air of a comfortable relative’s house. It also was known to have an exclusive clientele. “I can’t afford to stay there. And even if I could, I wouldn’t be welcomed.” It went without saying that Mrs. Harrison would no doubt look down at a mere maid’s attempt to stay there.

  “I know Mrs. Harrison. As a matter of fact, I went over and talked to her about you early this morning. She has a room for you.”

  “Still, I can’t afford to stay there.”

  “She offered to give you a room at half price.”

  Her eyes narrowed. No one did things like this without wanting something in return. “Major, why—”

  “She feels for your situation, Miss Barclay.” He leaned a little closer, bringing with him the fresh, clean scent of milled soap. “Bushnell seems to have left the hotel, but we can’t be sure he won’t return. Don’t say no. It’s all arranged.”

  She closed her eyes. Her pride wanted her to refuse, but the rest of her was so very grateful. Major Kelly was exactly right. Harrison House was safe and reputable. No one would bother her there. And she certainly did not want to see Bushnell again if she could help it. He might remember he’d been the one to … She shook the memory out of her mind. “Thank you.”

  “Let’s be on our way, then.”

  “I would appreciate your escort.”

  His smile was blinding. “I’m delighted to hear you say that. Especially since it didn’t include ten minutes of argument.”

  “I only argue when it’s necessary.”

  “In an effort to keep the peace, I’ll refrain from commenting on that.”

  “I need to claim my paycheck from Mr. Howard. He should be in his office.”

  All traces of that sunny smile vanished. “Indeed you do. Well, let’s go take care of that.”

  Though she imagined a part of her should protest his coming with her, Lizbeth was relieved to have the major with her. Right before the lobby, she turned down another, narrow hallway. The hotel’s private offices were there. Just beyond was a private section of the hotel. It allowed guests who didn’t wish to be seen to come and go with a measure of privacy. She’d never actually seen anyone who was staying in the rooms, but she’d heard rumors that both Grant and Lee had slept in those beds.

  After knocking on the door and announcing herself, Dallas beckoned her inside. He abruptly got to his feet when he realized the major had accompanied her. “Major Kelly?”

  “I came with Miss Barclay to ensure she received her monies without issue.”

  “We’re not swindlers, Major.” He opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out an envelope. “Here you are, Lizbeth.”

  “Thank you, Dallas.” For a moment she wondered if she should say something else. But what else was there to say? She turned back to Major Kelly. “I’m ready now.”

  Ethan’s eyes warmed. “Let’s go, then.”

  The moment the major followed Lizbeth out of Dallas’s office, he held out his arm for her to take.

  She stared at it. Hesitated, because it felt as if he were offering her something more. It felt as though they had a relationship, or, at the very least, an agreement.

  It felt too forward, too fresh.

  But in the end, she decided it felt right as well. Realizing she’d already gone too far to back up now, she rested her hand along his forearm. She felt his muscles tighten from her touch, sending a spark of awareness traipsing up her arm and reminding her that no matter how much she protested, she wasn’t immune to his charm.

  Major Kelly looked pleased when he slipped on his Stetson. “Shall we proceed?”

  Walking by his side through the back of the hotel and out one of the side doors, she felt as if she wasn’t just stepping outside; she was stepping back in time.

  Back before the start of the war, when she and her parents lived on the ranch, she’d gone walking with quite a number of gentleman callers whenever they went to town to visit friends. Her worries had centered around her appearance and whether she would make an advantageous marriage. How silly she’d been!

  After they’d walked one block, Major Kelly spoke. “This is nice, Miss Barclay. I’ve been hoping for this day for some time.”

  “To escort me to Harrison House?”

  He laughed. “No.” Sounding far more serious, he continued. “I’ve been hoping to do something of worth for a while now. You are giving me the opportunity to do that.”

  Being his charity case didn’t feel good, but she resolutely pushed the feeling away. She couldn’t change her circumstances. At least one of them was finding something good in her situation.

  It was rather cold. She had been meaning to buy a new dress for the winter but hadn’t wanted to part with any of her precious funds. In light of the recent events, Lizbeth realized that had been a wise decision.

  But it also meant she felt the bite of the cold more intently than she wished to. When a burst of wind blew across her cheeks, she shivered.

  Major Kelly looked down at her in concern. “You are chilled.”

  “A little.”

  He stopped. “Here. Take my coat,” he said as he began peeling off his suit jacket.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Because?”

  “Because entering Mrs. Harrison’s inn wearing your coat will not improve my reputation.”

  “Mindy won’t care.”

  He was on a first-name basis with Mrs. Harrison. For some reason, that knowledge pinched. Maybe it was because it was yet another reminder of how different their circumstances were. “Of course she will care. I promise you, no innkeeper wants a boarder of questionable repute.”

  “That would never be you.”

  Lizbeth didn’t bother to argue anymore. The fact was, she knew how society worked, both from a society lady’s and a maid’s perspective. Major Ethan Kelly—with his money, good looks, and heroic reputation—didn’t have a clue.

  He looked far more somber when he escorted her into Harrison House. After he stated their names, the maid who answered the door led them into a small parlor decorated in shades of rose and gray.

  “Mrs. Harrison, Major Kelly and Miss Barclay have arrived,” the maid said to an elegantly attired woman sitting on a chaise lounge, calmly knitting what looked to be a long and intricately designed shawl.

  She looked up with a smile. “Major Kelly. You have arrived.”

  He bowed formally. “Mindy, may I present the young lady I told you about, Miss Elizabeth Barclay. Miss Barclay, please meet Mindy Harrison.”

  “Ma’am,” Lizbeth said, dropping a curtsy. She’d seen Mrs. Harrison before, but they’d never had the opportunity to meet properly.

  Laying her knitting aside, Mrs. Harrison stood and practically glided over to them. “I have so been looking forward to meeting you, Miss Barclay. I hope you will be happy during your stay here.”

  Lizbeth felt completely tongue-tied. Was this how Mrs. Harrison greeted all her guests, or was she being especially cordial since the major was held in such high esteem? Neither possibility seemed correct. “I’m not sure if you understand who I am,” she began. “You see, I was a maid over at the Menger.”

  Mrs. Harrison waved a hand. “Oh, I know. Ethan told me all about what has happened to you. I know it will be hard, but I hope you will put that all out of your mind. After all,
that part of your life is over now.”

  Major Kelly was standing tall and proud, and looking extremely pleased with himself too. After giving him a pointed look, she smiled again at Mrs. Harrison. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Of course.” She turned back to where she’d been sitting and rang a small bell. “Miss Fletcher will take you up to your room now. Be sure to let her know if it will be suitable.”

  “I will. I mean, all right.”

  “Please send for me if you need anything, Miss Barclay,” the major said. “And if you leave this establishment for any reason, please do be cautious. A certain man could very well still be about the city.”

  “Yes. I mean, all right.” Oh, what did she mean?

  “If you would follow me?” Miss Fletcher murmured from behind her.

  Following the maid to the stairs, Lizbeth knew her life was indeed about to change again.

  She sincerely hoped it was for the better.

  9

  Now that Lizbeth was safely settled at Harrison House, Ethan felt he could take some time to visit Devin Monroe. Ethan knew he was still living in that small place on the outskirts of the city.

  Since the war, Ethan trusted few people, and rarely dared to rely on anyone other than himself and his three remaining best friends from the prison camp. He knew, deep in his gut, that he needed advice. His emotions around both Lizbeth and Bushnell were too intense for him to see clearly. Every time he tried to make sense of his plan for them, he became distracted by either Lizbeth’s pretty face or how much he loathed Bushnell.

  Devin Monroe would help him see things much more clearly. He felt sure Bushnell would show up again, and he’d need a plan. Bushnell was not the type of man to take Ethan’s attack lightly. He was also not the type to seek vengeance only on Ethan. Ethan feared Bushnell would choose to take out his revenge on someone who couldn’t fight back—Lizbeth or some other innocent woman Ethan might be acquainted with.

  But short of killing the man, Ethan had no idea how to permanently end this threat. He needed Devin’s clear head and reasoning to put together a plan to keep Lizbeth safe and himself out of jail for cold-blooded murder.

  At the Menger stables, he saddled up Gretel and headed west. He rode for two hours, enjoying the November air. Even after two years, he couldn’t help but contrast Texas’s relatively balmy climate with Johnson’s Island’s bitter temperatures and unrelenting wind. He doubted few other places would ever feel as cold or barren. He also doubted he’d ever again consider a Texas winter unbearable.

  Perhaps it was because his incarceration had begun at the beginning of winter. He’d been captured and eventually taken to northern Ohio by train in November of 1863. When the guards motioned them along, much the same way one would herd cattle, Ethan had been bleary-eyed and exhausted. The wounds he’d sustained in his chest and shoulders had begun to heal, but he’d suffered nerve damage. He’d often felt as if his insides were burning hot trails of pain down his arms.

  When they arrived, snow lay thick on the ground. It was icy and gray, a sign it had been there for some time. The guards forced them to walk on the ice of Sandusky Bay, and he’d been afraid it wouldn’t bear their weight.

  The drafty barracks, desolate landscape, and long, gray days threatened to drain their spirits. Later, they all came to grips with the new reality of their situation. Only prayer and other men’s support made the conditions bearable.

  As prisoners, they were kept in a constant state of discomfort and insecurity. When there was no snow, a cloying dampness still hung in the air. It sunk into a man’s bones and teased him. Making every injury he’d ever incurred ache as though he had only recently received it. Sometimes the morning would be filled with a fog so thick he wondered if it was ever going to clear.

  Hours passed far too slowly. Small enjoyments began to take on greater meaning. When his family was able to send him cigars, he would stand against the fence and watch the fog dissipate. For those few minutes, the scent of tobacco would fill the air and he’d be transported to another time and place, one where he was safe and comfortable.

  Other days he would watch Thomas Baker stare off into the distance, lost in his daydreams. He’d been envious of the man’s ability to lose himself in his own thoughts. He’d been able to transport himself to anywhere else on the planet anytime he chose.

  Gretel neighed, bringing him back to the present.

  And back to how empty his life had become.

  Now he had all the comforts he could desire, but with his freedom he’d also lost his home.

  How had he plunged into such a situation? After visiting his family briefly when he was released, he realized that, though they’d overcome their differences about his service in the war, he didn’t have much in common with them anymore. How could he? He’d spent years putting both his life and the men who served under him on the line. He’d buried dozens of soldiers and mourned countless others. Then, of course, there were all those lonely months on Johnson’s Island.

  When he first returned home and was in a room by himself, he hadn’t even been able to sleep. He felt too alone and had been plagued by flashbacks. He eventually told his family he needed to leave to work through his demons. At first his mother had cried, but then even she realized he wasn’t the same man who had left their home in a resplendent gray uniform with visions of glory in his eyes.

  When he left the ranch again, the feelings among them all were bittersweet. They loved him, of course. Just as he still loved them. But love hadn’t been enough for him to feel as though he belonged.

  In the end, he had taken a portion of his sizable inheritance, deposited it into the bank, and then gone about reinventing himself.

  But, of course, he didn’t know how to do anything but order men to kill enemy soldiers. That reality hadn’t set well with him, and he’d spent much of his time gambling in smoky saloons and riverboats, all while waiting to be needed from time to time by the only people who felt real to him anymore—his three fellow former prisoners.

  But lately he’d felt as if he had changed again. He was ready to make commitments. Ready to lean on others again. Ready to be himself.

  Lizbeth’s arrival in his room had been a turning point for him as well—and he hadn’t even realized he’d needed one. She needed a hero in her life. And he? Well, he needed to make amends for his sins, and he knew she was someone he had wronged, even if she never realized he was one of the men who’d scavenged her home during the war.

  Out of all the blood and gore of the battlefields, the stench of death and infection, the men he’d lost, the loneliness of being held prisoner for months, that was the moment that haunted him the most.

  Before he knew it, he and Gretel had arrived. Just over the bend was his captain’s temporary home. It wasn’t much. Just a simple stone-and-clapboard house next to a thicket of abundant pecan trees. He remembered Devin saying once that he liked living next to a constant source of food that could be brewed into coffee in a pinch.

  That was Devin Monroe, Ethan supposed. A man who leaned toward both the practical and the worst-case scenario.

  But what did surprise Ethan was that the captain lived so far from other people. He’d been a sociable man both during the war and in the prison camp. He’d also had something of a tender heart, though he probably would have threatened to maim anyone who dared say it. Ethan had always assumed the day Devin Monroe returned to civilization he would find himself a lovely woman to bind himself to.

  As if the captain had been looking for him, Devin was standing in front of his house by the time Ethan dismounted. He was dressed in his usual attire of faded denims, a pure white shirt, and black boots. It seemed he wasn’t concerned about the Texas November chill either.

  “Captain,” Ethan said. He outranked Devin, but he used the title as a form of respect. Devin had earned every bit of his rank, while Ethan’s family’s money had paid for his.

  Devin clasped his hand. “Ethan, this is a welcome surprise. It’s
good to see you.”

  “I’m relieved to hear that. Sorry to show up unannounced.”

  “You know we are beyond worrying about such niceties. Do you have any news?” he asked, his voice smooth yet betraying a touch of concern. “Is Baker all right?”

  “Yes,” he said before realizing he’d probably spoken too soon. “I mean, I haven’t heard anything from him. I’m assuming he’s enjoying wedded bliss.”

  Devin chuckled. “I hope so, though it’s hard to imagine him staying out of trouble for too long. What do you think the chances are of him keeping his head down for a while?”

  “Married to Laurel? I’d say real good.”

  “Me too.”

  Ethan smiled, thinking of their sergeant who could once only be described as a loose cannon on the best of days. Now he was far more circumspect and married to a beautiful woman with golden hair. And a fondness for cattle.

  “What brings you out here? You in trouble?”

  That caught Ethan off guard. He knew Devin would want to know how he was doing. But he’d hoped they might be able to ease into the point of his visit. “You still don’t beat around the bush.”

  “No need to with you. Is there?”

  “No.” Realizing it would be futile to postpone the inevitable, he said, “I came to get some advice, if you have some time to listen.”

  “Always. Why don’t you take care of your horse and then come join me?” Looking a little embarrassed, he said, “Even though the temperature is probably in the fifties, I’ve been feeling the cold today. I’ve been in the kitchen making chili. You can come in and chop.”

  Ethan hadn’t touched a kitchen utensil since he’d been freed from captivity. “You still don’t have a maid to do that?”

  “No. I guess after living among men all my life, I don’t know how to live with women. I get tongue-tied.” A shadow filled his expression before he carefully wiped it away. “Matter of fact, I’ve recently come to the conclusion that I’m not real good around females at all.”

  This confession startled Ethan. Devin Monroe was one of the most confident men he’d ever met. “I find that hard to believe.”