by Gina Leuci
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Captive Hearts
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
A word about the author…
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Caleb shifted again as he reached over and took another sip of tea. “I’ve been giving that some thought. Do you remember what you said to me your second day here?” He shook his head. “Probably not, you were stoned. Anyway, you said you needed to pretend to fit in so no one would know you planned to escape.”
I remembered making that plan with Jake, I didn’t remember spilling that to the chief.
He continued, “I think we should pretend to get along. Build trust. Act as though we are trying to make our marriage work.”
I swallowed, but had no saliva left. I grabbed my tea and gulped down the now tepid, bitter liquid. “How far are you thinking of taking the farce?”
“Don’t go down that road, Grace,” he said softly. “You know I won’t disrespect you.”
Captive Hearts
by
Gina Leuci
A Well of Lies, Book Two
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Captive Hearts
COPYRIGHT © 2018 by Gina Leuci
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Diana Carlile
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Crimson Rose Edition, 2018
Print ISBN 978-1-5092-2347-3
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-2348-0
A Well of Lies, Book Two
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my son, Connor.
You make this mum very proud.
Acknowledgments
Caged Souls and Captive Hearts would not exist without the help and support of others. So a quick thank you to Melissa for answering random texts on medical questions; Sheila for talking all things PA—I still need to try your pot pie! Emily for being another set of editing eyes. The amazing writers of NHRWA. My family for understanding when I head off to my writing cave. Most of all, a shout out to my amazing editor at The Wild Rose Press: Kaycee John. Thanks for loving this story as much as I do, and for making me a better writer.
Chapter One
“Wake up, Grace.”
I heard the voice, but I resisted. Mornings aren’t my best time. “Five minutes,” I mumbled.
“Now.”
It was a male voice. That was the first thing to register. Second was the sound came from beneath me. I realized then that I was practically wrapped around a very warm, very hard, masculine man. I opened my eyes and met the steely blue ones belonging to Caleb Wellington.
Memories of a storm the day before and the two of us seeking shelter under an overhang of rocks invaded my moment of lucidity. We’d fallen asleep with him spooned against me under the rocks, behind the curtain of branches he’d used to protect us from the driving rain. At some time during the night, I not only turned around, I’d crawled up onto him, more than likely trying to find comfort on something other than the uneven surface under my body.
I barely had a moment to catch up with my brain before another voice, one that sent immediate shivers down my spine, let me know we were no longer alone. “You really screwed the pooch this time.”
Damn. Roger Wellington, the town manager of Wellington, Pennsylvania—and my current arch nemesis—was here. I had only seconds before I recognized the branches we used last night to shelter us within our rock hideaway were no longer in place. Instead, there were several denim-clad legs and boots blocking the morning sun.
“Get them out of there,” Roger ordered.
Before my morning brain had time to function, two sets of legs knelt on the ground and hands were on my arms and legs, pulling me away from the warm body I’d lain on all night.
“What the…” I sputtered as I slid across the dirt, face down.
“No need to be so rough.” My human pillow’s deep timbre was muffled as he rolled out into the open before he, too, was manhandled and lifted to his feet.
Officers Tom and Brent reached out to hold Caleb by his arms, as though he had done something wrong. Mine were still held by Officer Greg on one side and the town’s computer and security expert, Randy, on the other.
Why did it suddenly feel like this was not a rescue mission for two people who’d been trapped in a storm? I looked at the man who’d protected me in more ways than one the day before. Caleb’s gaze looked hooded and closed off as he faced his boss, while the town’s top elected official wore a smug expression.
“Don’t say a word,” the older man warned. “I have four witnesses to how the two of you were wrapped around each other.” He turned to me, his gaze moving up and down my body, taking in my clothes that had seen better days before shaking his head and giving me a dismissive snort.
My foggy morning brain finally woke. This wasn’t a rescue. This was about my rejection of Roger’s precious son. I shuddered at just the thought of Leland. Yesterday he’d informed me that the story about my summer internship had all been a lie. Nine of us had been lured to Wellington, not to spend the summer out in the country, free of computers and phones like we’d believed, but to be forced into marriage with one of the Wellingtons. Leland had chosen me, and when he’d tried to take things too far, I fought him off. The arrival of Caleb, the town’s police chief, had not been as fortunate in Lee’s mind, and a bad situation turned even worse.
Now, neither the chief nor I are Roger’s favorite people. Understandable, under the circumstances, but that didn’t explain why he rallied the entire police force to escort us back to town as if we were prisoners.
It was a long walk on a rocky path, and I had no shoes. Yesterday, while I ran through the woods like there was no tomorrow, the rain and wind hadn’t bothered me. The rush of adrenaline kept me going and prevented me from feeling a single stone. Now, my bruised feet connected with every broken acorn, every pebble, every tree root, and slowed our pace.
When I stumbled, only one person moved to my side, pushing past the officers who should have helped me. Caleb’s voice was calm and steady as he pulled me to my feet. “Are you okay?”
I looked up into his blue eyes and saw concern. Last night, we’d forged an odd sort of truce after a tumultuous start to my su
mmer in his town. He’d saved me from an attack, which some might say he’d done as part of his duties as Super Cop. Then he’d protected me from the ravages of the high winds and falling tree limbs. I could write that off as duty to protect.
But he’d also kissed me. That wasn’t part of his job description. Neither was his promise to get me back to my home in Vermont.
Caleb, the police chief who’d sworn to tend to my safety during my stay in Wellington, had become my protector here in this backwoods town. Despite the past twenty-four hours, I had an ally.
“I’m fine,” I finally answered.
Snarling with impatience, Roger pushed past the officers who encircled us. “What’s the hold up?”
The older man held the highest position of authority in the town; today he was on the warpath and we were his target. I’d rebuked his son’s advances, and I had the feeling Daddy Big Wig wasn’t too thrilled that his best-laid plans for his offspring had gone awry.
Caleb gave no one time to speak. “Grace has no shoes. Let me carry her.” Before anyone could protest, myself included, he continued, “We’ll be able to move faster.” At the older man’s nod, he knelt in front of me. “Piggy back.”
My face flamed. I looked to the men surrounding us, waiting impatiently for us to move. “Ah, that’s not necessary, I can walk.”
“Your feet will be cut to ribbons out here, if they aren’t already.”
He had a point. I relented and clasped my arms at his neck. He stood, taking my legs in his hands to wrap around his waist. “This is so embarrassing,” I muttered. “Let me know when I get heavy, and I’ll walk again.”
He made a sound, like a snort, but continued his easy pace, not slowing once. While it was humiliating to be carried, my feet did appreciate the break. Besides, the sooner we were back in town, the sooner I could find out why we were being treated like major felons.
“What’s their beef?” I spoke softly. “They’re taking a simple rescue mission a bit serious, don’t you think?”
Caleb shook his head. “I’m sorry about this.”
My fingers clasped a bit tighter on his shoulders. Something was up. Something big. I looked at the somber expressions on the men escorting us out of the woods. The sense of hope I went to sleep with last night disappeared. Anxiety began to build. I remained silent as the search and rescue party moved through the woods. Tree limbs, broken during the previous night’s storm, littered the trail, a testament to the severity of the weather Caleb and I had sheltered from. Despite the return of the sun, I had a feeling there was a new storm on the horizon.
Once we reached the end of the path, we boarded a shuttle bus under the steely watch of the town’s elected leader. I still didn’t understand what the big deal was and when the bus stopped in front of the church, I became even more stumped.
“Don’t tell me they’re making us go to the service?” I whispered. “I know it’s Sunday and all, but look at me. I need a shower.” I took in Caleb’s wrinkled shirt and mud-caked jeans. “So do you.”
“Grace, about that—”
Roger turned on us and barked, “No talking.”
I threw up both hands. “What is your problem? I know you don’t like me, but no talking? Seriously?”
My one ally on this return home tapped my leg, indicating I should keep quiet. Then he mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry’ again.
What the hell wasn’t he saying? The last thing I needed were more secrets. I’d already figured out we were being treated like prisoners because we were prisoners, which made no sense.
I had been the victim yesterday. Leland wanted to have sex with me. He’d made it clear he’d chosen me to become his wife and not to argue the inevitable. Caleb arrived while I was fighting off the young Lothario’s advances.
What happened next wasn’t my fault. Leland pitched a temper tantrum and began ranting at the top of his lungs about Caleb ruining his chance to marry me. Then, in the midst of his rant, he kicked me in the ribs. Again, I was the victim.
Okay, so maybe—just maybe—Caleb reacted a bit harshly and ended up breaking the ass hat’s arm. In my estimation, he deserved everything he got.
Taking Caleb to task for police brutality was one thing. But it certainly didn’t explain why we were escorted into the crowded church moments before the Sunday morning service was slated to begin.
I felt every eye in the room staring at us. My tee-shirt was caked with mud. My jeans, having been soaked by the rain, had air dried into stiff denim. Seeing the dirt smearing Caleb’s face, I was sure mine wasn’t any cleaner. I’d taken my wet, matted hair out of its ponytail during the night, so now it hung in a knotted mess around my face. Not my Sunday best.
After Pastor Rick walked to the front of the altar, we were jostled forward. “Oh, good,” he said, “you located them.”
If my mood was better, I might have found the comment funny. Why did they pretend a person could actually go missing in a place where everybody was forced to wear a tracking bracelet?
“I demand a town meeting,” Roger bellowed. “We found these two cavorting in the woods.
Cavorting?
“We weren’t—” Caleb tried to speak, but a motion from the older man silenced him.
“You keep quiet.” Roger turned and stormed down the aisle until he reached Jake Collings, my best friend who’d come with me from Vermont to Wellington, on what we’d believed would be a fun-filled summer, working in the country fresh air. Little did we know the town had other plans.
Roger grabbed Jake’s arm and, while dragging him to the front of the church, called out, “Hope, get up here, now.”
“Yes, Daddy.” His daughter responded quickly, jumping up from the pew and rushing to do his bidding.
“Last night, this man—” Roger nudged Jake forward “—had sex with my daughter. I caught them in the act. Then today, we found these two.” He sneered the words as he nodded at me and Caleb. “Wrapped around each other in a dark cave. The four of them have dishonored our belief system.”
“I see.” Pastor Rick shook his head. “Then there is only one thing we can do to rectify the situation. Does council agree this is the best course of action?”
“What course of action?” I asked, looking around. No one answered.
“Wait just a minute,” the bedraggled chief of police protested. “You all are overstepping here. Nothing happened last night. Those were near hurricane force winds with tree branches crashing all around us. The safest course was to seek shelter.”
Pastor Rick tsked. “You know unmarried men and woman are forbidden to spend a night alone together.”
“But there was a storm,” I sputtered. “We couldn’t get back to town.”
Pulling the ace from his deck, Roger launched Jake forward. “What if this one got my daughter pregnant?”
I looked over at Jake, someone I’d known most of my life. His face was covered with red splotches. “Did you have sex?” I hissed.
He grimaced. “He caught us bare-assed.”
I groaned. Jake and Hope. Caught doing the deed. Probably just what the blonde seductress had planned. Given a few more minutes, Leland, Hope’s twin and partner in coercion, would have made sure he and I were caught in a similar position.
Except for one thing: I wasn’t willing and managed to fight him off until my Good Samaritan arrived and brought things to a stop.
“The decision has been made,” Pastor Rick announced. “They shall be married at once.”
“Married?” I whipped around, looking at the residents of town in attendance for the church service. “What does he mean, married?”
Caleb didn’t look at me. Instead, he faced front. “Pastor Rick, Grace is innocent in this. I made the decision to seek shelter instead of trying to make it back to Jefferson’s farm.”
Hands fisted, Roger intruded into the conversation. “Then you will face the consequences of your actions, Caleb. You know the rules. Your father—”
The chief’s jaw tightene
d as he spoke through clenched teeth. “Don’t bring my father into this.”
Instead, Roger’s voice raised high enough to echo off the church rafters. “Your father disgraced this town when he couldn’t keep it in his pants.”
Gasps and murmurs filled the air. I spotted several mothers place their hands over their children’s ears. My head swiveled back and forth, taking in the scene around me in stunned disbelief.
The older man waved a finger under Caleb’s nose. “You seem to be following in his footsteps, young man. If you don’t watch it, you’ll be banished from town like him.” Then he added—and seemed to enjoy it—“Like your father, you’ll be forbidden to see your children.”
Caleb’s daughter, Elena, cried out, “Daddy?”
My heart broke for the eight-year old. I hadn’t thought about his children being in the room while all the dirty laundry was aired for the entire congregation to hear. I turned to Roger. “You’re only doing this because of what happened yesterday.”
“Shut up before you disgrace yourself further. You were ready to have sex with my son before you were interrupted. Then, only hours later you spent the night with another man. You’re nothing more than a whore.”
“You son of a bitch.”
For the second time in two days, the usually calm and unflappable police chief lost his cool. His fist went up, but two officers still by our sides caught him mid-swing and pulled him back. More gasps and louder whispers added to the chaos.
“Gentlemen,” Pastor Rick intervened. “You are in the house of God. Control yourselves. The decision has been made. Jake and Hope, Caleb and Grace, please turn to each other and take hands.”
Someone took my shoulders, I wasn’t sure who, and turned me to face Caleb who looked almost as stunned as I. Our hands were forcibly joined. I stared up at him. He didn’t look at me but instead fixed his gaze at a spot over my head. How he could shut down his emotions like that I didn’t understand.
“With the joining of hands,” Pastor Rick intoned, “we honor God, our heavenly Father, in joining these two couples in the bonds of holy matrimony. We pray to You, oh God, to forgive them for their indiscretions and help them to move forward as one unity, to praise and bless You with their love for each other.”