Love Held Captive

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  “He was extremely impressive! It seemed his bravery and honor had no bounds, and that transcended to his best friends too. Major Kelly, Lieutenant Truax, Sergeant Baker, and Captain Monroe were a band of brothers whom many believed could take care of most anything.” She sighed. “Even all this time after the war, people still talk about their bravery. Isn’t that something?”

  Lizbeth nodded. “It is. I’m glad you shared that with me. Even if the soldiers exaggerated those tales, I feel better about the men’s chances of surviving today.”

  After a pause, Julianne said, “I should probably tell you, I heard about Captain Monroe and the other men from Bushnell too. During the war, Daniel wrote me about their battles. He mentioned all of them with pride.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course, he listed himself too. And he wasn’t on too many battlefields—not at the beginning, anyway. He was too busy strutting around and making connections so he could raise his rank.”

  There it was. Julianne’s past was now out in the open and as unavoidable as the bed in the middle of the room. Choosing her words with care, she said, “Ethan told me about your past relationship with Bushnell. I, uh, honestly don’t know what to say.”

  All traces of light vanished from Julianne’s expression. “You don’t need to say anything. I don’t expect you to feel anything for what I did but contempt.”

  That seemed harsh, even though Lizbeth had been feeling very close to that. “I wouldn’t categorize my feelings that way,” she said hesitantly. “But I will admit it’s hard for me to imagine any woman entering into a relationship with that man willingly.”

  “I understand.”

  Lizbeth doubted it. “He ruined me.”

  “He did. And you are right. He hurt you in many ways. He should and will pay for his actions.” Her voice softened. “But let me ask you this … Did he ruin you forever?”

  “How can you ask that?” she blurted. “He raped me. He cut me. I wear this scar on my face. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Of course it is,” Julianne said in a rush. “You have every right to hate him. I, for one, loathe him.” She took a deep breath. “But what I am trying to say is that when I look at you, I don’t see a broken woman deserving only of pity. I see someone who is strong and capable. A survivor. I wondered if you ever saw that too.” She shrugged. “I just thought you should know.”

  Lizbeth was shocked. Could it be that she was more than a victim?

  “Do you think it’s ironic that of all the people in the state, the two of us met, and that we have developed relationships with men who were in a prison camp with Bushnell? It brings a new definition to a small world, I think.”

  Julianne’s gaze warmed. “It’s ironic and disturbing and a great many other things. But maybe God thought it was fitting too.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, how could one attempt to describe such a man? With the four of us, there was no need. We all know exactly what he was like. And because of that, maybe in time we can all help each other move forward.”

  For the first time since Ethan told her how he’d come to her ranch after Bushnell was there, Lizbeth smiled. “This is true. At least there’s that.”

  “I couldn’t help but notice you seemed upset with Major Kelly today. Was it because of what he told you about me?”

  “No.” She bit her lip. “He’d been keeping a secret from me. He led a group of men to my ranch just two weeks after Bushnell came. He recognized me when we met again last week, from my scar. But I didn’t recognize him.”

  “Did he hurt you too?”

  “Oh, no. Nothing like that.”

  “Did his men?” she asked quietly.

  “No. They weren’t especially kind, but they weren’t cruel,” Lizbeth answered, remembering that time as if it had happened just days ago. “The men were on a requisitioning raid. They took what few belongings I still had and then left. My head knew they had no choice. But my heart? Well, it was breaking. But of course, I was already broken.” She shivered. Truly, that time in her life was so bad, she had rarely allowed herself to think of it.

  Julianne plopped down in one of the chairs they’d just fluffed. “I bet you couldn’t believe it when you realized he’d seen you before.”

  “I was certainly shocked. He said he remembered me because of my scar.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said he dreamed about that raid. That he’s always regretted it.”

  “Was he sincere?”

  Of that, she had no doubt. “Oh, yes. But I was so upset with him for not telling me he’d been there I didn’t care if he felt bad.” Feeling worse by the second, she mused, “Actually, I thought I was going to be upset with him for the rest of my life.”

  “Because he took your belongings?”

  She shook her head. “No. And not because he kept his raiding my home a secret from me. Because he saw me at my worst. Because he saw me damaged and despondent and lonely. And instead of helping me, he only took more. But now? Now I don’t know why I thought it mattered so much. If it wasn’t him, it would have been someone else.”

  “Someone recently told me writers and poets make wars seem glorious but only fools think that way.”

  Lizbeth smiled awkwardly. “That’s true, I suppose. Right when war broke out, my parents dressed me up to go to the officers’ dances. The men in the uniforms looked so handsome and brave. I think I truly believed they would look the same in battle.”

  “I can only think there’s a reason the Lord put us through so much. Maybe he needed us to meet each other. Or to be the right women for these men, Devin and Ethan.”

  “Do you think we are the right women?”

  “I think we might be the right women for two men who also thought their lives were going to be quite different.”

  Lizbeth felt the tears come. “They could be injured right now. Or dead.”

  “Don’t think that way. We have to keep our hope.”

  “But what if they are?”

  “Then I guess we’ll accept it. But they aren’t, Lizbeth. They are fighting for their own reasons. Not just for us, or even to rescue poor Cassie. And I happen to think they are too good for the Lord to take them while fighting a man like him.”

  Lizbeth was awed by the passion in Julianne’s voice. She was speaking from her heart, and it was obvious she believed every word she was saying. Clasping Julianne’s hand, she said, “We need to keep praying. For our men, and for Robert and Thomas. And for Cassie to realize that even if the worst has happened, she can be a survivor too.”

  Julianne smiled. “I can’t think of a better activity to do right at this minute. They need our prayers, and we need the Lord’s comfort.”

  36

  Standing on the outside of the hacienda with Devin, reeling with the knowledge that he was about to end another man’s life, Ethan waited for the moment that usually came on the eve of a battle. There was always a time when all the chaos in his mind shut off, doubts faded away, and his body settled.

  Right then and there, his body and mind would meld and all the hours of preparation would pay off. He would suddenly feel nothing but cool intent. Nothing would matter except for the job at hand. That was when he had been able to raise his rifle, to surge forward, to command other men to stay strong and risk their lives for the cause.

  But now, as he stood at the door of the hacienda, his body tense and his mind churning with a dozen mixed emotions, Ethan realized this was a completely different situation. Nothing in his life had prepared him for what he was about to do.

  Probably because everything about this mission was personal. He knew Daniel Bushnell. He knew him well. Not only had Ethan slept in the same tents and barracks as him, he’d also shared bread and hardtack and water. Ethan had sometimes laughed with him. He’d sometimes argued with him. He’d usually followed his orders.

  And while it was true that he’d never cared for Bushnell, Ethan could admit that he’d never had an overwhelming urge to do him harm.


  That had all changed when Devin was shot.

  And when Lizbeth told them what he’d done to her.

  Even when he’d come to terms with just how badly he’d used Julianne.

  Since then, anger and the need for justice to be served had boiled inside of him. Daniel had used his rank and the integrity of everything they stood for and twisted it all to his advantage. As far as Ethan was concerned, Daniel Bushnell had dishonored everything he, as a Southern gentleman and a man of honor, had stood for.

  Every time he allowed himself to think of Lizbeth being brutalized by him he could hardly contain his anger.

  “Ethan, you okay?” Devin asked, his voice low.

  “Yeah. I … well, I can’t seem to settle.”

  “This is right,” Devin said. “Justice needs to be served. Not just for Lizbeth and for Julianne, not just for Cassie, but for the countless women he’s taken advantage of … and intends to continue to violate.”

  “Not to mention that he tried to kill you.”

  His own words and Devin’s explanations rang in his ears. At last, he found the quiet sense of peace he had been looking for. He breathed in. Out.

  Then, without another second’s doubt, he kicked the front door. He half expected it to hold firm. But instead it cracked. One more forceful kick and it sprang open. “Bushnell!” he called out.

  Behind him, he heard Devin cock his gun, ready to shoot. But when Bushnell didn’t appear, they entered, immediately each intent on a different angle. In front of them, Ethan heard the faint shuffle of someone scurrying around.

  “Don’t make us hunt you down, Daniel,” Devin called out. “We’re all too old for that.”

  Pistol raised, Ethan tensed, again waiting for a reply. He scanned the area, carefully looking for places where someone might be hiding. But he saw nothing. Heard nothing more than his own harsh breathing.

  All that remained was an eerie feeling in the air. By mutual agreement, they spanned out farther into the house. Robert and Thomas had joined them after entering through a back door.

  Mexican red tiles made up the floor. They were hard under his feet. Each step echoed through the house. They might as well have brought in a score of soldiers. Seconds passed.

  “We sure he’s here?” Baker whispered.

  “I am.” Robert stepped forward. “His horse is outside. I’ll go find him.”

  “Not alone,” Devin murmured.

  He paused, then nodded. “All right, Cap,” he murmured. There was a new slight edge to his tone, though Ethan couldn’t discern whether it came from Robert being amused that Devin felt he needed help or whether it came from appreciation of the other man’s concern.

  Maybe it was a combination. They needed to remind each other that they weren’t as battle-ready as they’d once been. Reflexes were slower, their responses a bit sluggish.

  Just as Ethan was about to join Robert on the stairs, an earsplitting scream pierced the air.

  “Cassie,” he stated, though none of them had needed an explanation.

  Thomas let out a string of curses as Robert rushed on ahead by himself, all of Devin’s warnings either completely forgotten or destined to be completely ignored.

  As one, Devin, Baker, and Ethan raced up the stairs and down the hall. Each of them had their pistols drawn. Ethan’s arm felt like it was on fire, the muscles were so tense. Their pace slowed, each man keeping an eye out for Bushnell, the woman he held, and ready for the possibility of any other men they didn’t know about ambushing them.

  When they reached the end of the hall, Robert stood outside a door. It was obvious he was impatient to go inside.

  “At least you waited here,” Devin muttered sarcastically.

  Before Robert had time to say a word, Ethan pounded on the door. “Open up, Bushnell. You’re outnumbered and outgunned. We both know you never could hit a target without taking five minutes setting up the shot.”

  “My pistol’s already pointed at the door,” Daniel replied. “The moment you open it, I’ll shoot. Don’t make me kill you.”

  When Cassie screamed again, Robert surged forward. Ethan had to put a hand out to stop him. They still didn’t know what they were getting into.

  But when she cried out once more, Robert tore forward. “Her death ain’t going to be on my hands,” he said as he pressed his shoulder into the wood. It didn’t give.

  “Step aside,” Devin ordered as he raised his Colt and shot the lock. It swung open. “Bushnell, we’re coming in!” he yelled. “Put your weapon down.”

  Ethan felt as if he were in a tunnel as he charged in after Devin and Robert.

  Then he halted, stunned as he saw the sight in front of him. Daniel Bushnell was in his shirtsleeves and trousers only. His feet were bare. He held a knife in one hand and a pistol in the other. On the bed lay Cassie. Her torn dress was shoved up on her thighs, her lip was bleeding, and she was gazing at them in desperation.

  It was so much like everything he’d envisioned happening to Lizbeth that Ethan felt himself sway.

  Just as Bushnell raised his arm.

  Finally, Ethan’s heartbeat slowed and the doubts faded away. He raised his pistol and fired.

  Bushnell jerked when the bullet hit its mark. Cassie screamed when he fell on the bed, obviously dead.

  Only then did Ethan realize he hadn’t been the only man to fire. The three men at his side had done the same. One of them—or maybe all of them—had ended Bushnell’s life.

  37

  The moment Julianne saw Devin enter the lobby of the Menger Hotel, she burst into tears.

  Devin froze. “Julianne?” he rasped as he curved an arm around her shoulders and lowered her onto a nearby settee. He turned to briefly speak to Lizbeth and then helped her to her feet, guiding her to the hallway that led to his suite. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

  Sweetheart? Had she ever been anyone’s sweetheart? That, of course, made the tears fall even harder.

  They continued until Devin unlocked his door and pulled her inside. Only when Devin stepped toward her with his palms up, as if he were attempting to still a skittish colt, did Julianne finally get control of herself.

  “Don’t mind me,” she said, doing her best to dab at the tears on her cheeks. “I’m just so relieved you’re okay.”

  His expression eased as warmth entered his eyes. “I’m okay,” he affirmed. “I’m fine.”

  He wasn’t hurt. “Oh, thank the good Lord!” Beyond caring about how she looked, or retaining any composure at all, she rushed toward him and launched herself into his arms.

  After the slightest hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her tighter. “Julianne, careful now,” he drawled, hesitation thick in his voice. “I’ve been on horseback for hours. No doubt I smell to high heaven.”

  She thought he smelled like man and leather and fresh snow. That wouldn’t make a bit of difference to her, not in the slightest. “I couldn’t care less,” she murmured as she pressed her cheek to his chest. “I’m just so grateful you are here in one piece.”

  His arms tightened around her. “I am that.”

  She leaned back so she could see his face. “You really aren’t hurt? You haven’t opened your wounds?”

  “I promise. I’m no worse for wear.”

  Now that worry had been put to rest, she dared to bring up the other concern. Because she knew him well enough to realize he wasn’t going to easily give her any details, she kept her question simple. “Did you find Daniel?”

  “We did, Julianne. You won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

  Her body tightened. “What does that mean?” He might not want to tell her, but she needed to know the truth.

  Sighing, he ran a hand down her hair. “You aren’t going to let me cloak what happened in vague assurances, are you?”

  She knew from his tone that he wasn’t actually angry. “I cannot. Devin, tell me the truth. Is there a chance he could show up at my house again?”

  “There’s no chance at al
l. He’s dead, honey.”

  Her breath hitched. Her mind spun as a mixture of emotions settled inside her. She was relieved, and maybe a little sad for the news too. Daniel Bushnell had done a great many terrible things. But no matter how others might perceive how he treated her, his money had saved her during the war. People could think what they would, but she would always be grateful she’d been able to survive.

  “Did you do it?” she asked.

  A muscle in his jaw jumped. It was obvious he was uncomfortable. Which made her feel terrible. Why did she even want to know? She didn’t need to know. It wouldn’t change her feelings for him. “Listen, forget I asked. It doesn’t matter.”

  “I didn’t kill him, Julianne. Rather, it wasn’t only me.”

  That’s when she knew she was a liar. Because she felt pure relief. Not because she would feel differently about Devin, but because she didn’t want him to have to carry that burden. And she could tell by the set of his shoulders, the way his eyes looked tired, that he would have held that burden close to his heart. Maybe he would even eventually resent her for it.

  Reaching up, she rubbed her hand against the scruff on his cheek, trying to console him in a way only a touch could do.

  He closed his eyes for a brief moment as though he was drinking in her touch. “What happened was inevitable. When we got there, it was obvious he wasn’t going to come out of that house alive.”’

  Remembering there was another victim, she braced herself to hear the rest of the news. “What about Cassie? Was she really there? What happened to her? Will she be all right?”

  For the first time since he walked into the room, his expression eased. “Cassie was there, but I think she is going to be okay. Right now Baker and Truax are escorting her to her family. She … well, Daniel had beaten her badly. She was bleeding. We got there just in time.”

  Julianne shivered. “The poor girl. I hope she’ll recover eventually.”

  “I hope so too. Of course, we’re living proof that a person can recover from some of the most adverse situations. We’ll simply have to pray that Cassie will somehow find the strength and courage to do that.”