The Bride Found (Civil War Brides Book 2)

by Piper Davenport

  “Thank you, God.” Moving slowly over the threshold, Hannah stared at the scene before her. Instead of the storeroom she expected, full of dusty boxes and rickety metal shelves, she found herself in a perfect replica of a Victorian parlor.

  Hannah slowly wandered the room, and her fingers brushed the deep green horsehair sofa facing a large fireplace. Her focus was pulled toward a painting mounted above the fireplace. A young man with dark hair, sporting a mustache and soul patch and dressed in black with a crisp white ascot, stared at her from the large canvas. Whoever had painted the portrait captured dark green eyes, which bordered on emerald. As she got closer, she noticed a label below the picture that read: “War Cabinet, Washington D.C. 1865.”

  “Now, aren’t you gorgeous?” She raised her hand to touch his face. “Why can’t I meet someone like you and live happily ever after?”

  Giggling at her thoughts, she continued to walk around the room. She touched everything. She marveled at the elaborate furnishings, but in the end, was drawn back to the painting. As she approached the canvas again, instead of the handsome soldier’s face, the vision of a dark room met her gaze—as though she were looking through a window. As she stepped forward for a better look, the entire wall and fireplace disappeared, and she was looking only at the dark room.

  No, not a room. A barn.

  She turned to find she was still in the Victorian parlor, but when she looked back again, all she saw was the barn. Hand shaking, she reached out to the hazy image, and without warning, her world spun and everything went black.

  * * *

  Christopher Butler sat in the office of his colleague and close friend, Clayton Madden. Serving under Secretary of War Edwin M. Stanton, in Abraham Lincoln’s cabinet, the men had just returned to Washington from Pennsylvania, where the President delivered the Gettysburg Address the day before.

  “Are you prepared for our trip to Harrisburg?” Clayton settled his ankle over his knee.

  Christopher sipped his whiskey and nodded. “Yes, we’ll be arriving on Wednesday. I’m hoping that’ll give us adequate time to settle in before the Thanksgiving festivities.”

  “Knowing Mrs. Wade, she’ll have everything prepared as we speak. Even if you arrived on Thursday, you would not be late.”

  Christopher chuckled. “That’s true. When are you leaving?”

  “Tuesday morning.”

  “So early? I thought Emma preferred to stay in the city.”

  Clayton smiled. “Yes. She does prefer the city. However, she’s also very sentimental and is looking forward to the holidays with her sister.”

  Christopher ran his hands through his hair as he lamented, “Gwen is driving us all mad with her enthusiasm.”

  “That’s not surprising. Gettysburg was her first trip outside of Washington. What girl wouldn’t be excited about spending time with her friends—and shopping?”

  “Yes, I suppose so.” Christopher shifted in his chair. “I must say, having brothers is easier than sisters. Even if she is a very small one.”

  “Any word from Quincy?”

  Christopher’s younger brother currently served in the Union Army and was not a subject he liked to discuss.

  “Nothing in over a month.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine, Chris. Your brother’s intelligent.”

  Christopher leaned back with a sigh. “Sometimes he’s a little too smart for his own good, and that’s my biggest concern.”

  Clayton chuckled. “All your siblings are.”

  “True. Gwen being the worst offender.” Christopher turned when he heard a derisive snort from the entrance of the office.

  Gwen rolled her eyes. “Chris.”

  The men stood and Clayton held out his hand to Emma, who stood next to Gwen. “Come in, sweet.”

  Emma led Gwen into the office with a grin. “I think Gwen is perfect just the way she is, Chris.”

  “Thank you, Emma.” Gwen straightened her spine and glanced at Christopher. “Anything to add?”

  He had to admit, he was too tired to tease his sister at present, no matter how tempting, so he smiled gently and indicated the chair next to him for her to sit. “No, Gwennie, not at all.”

  “Dinner is ready if you two would like to join us,” Emma said and gasped when Clayton pulled her into his lap as he sat back in his chair. Clayton whispered something in her ear and she laughed before facing the siblings, hand over her mouth. “Sorry, that was rude.”

  Christopher waved his hand, but secretly, he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to the public displays of physical attraction he’d seen from his close friend. Emma brought out a side of Clayton he was unaccustomed to, evident once again as he watched her give Clayton a secret smile before climbing from his lap.

  “Well, I’m starved.” Clayton stood beside her. “Shall we?”

  Emma had persuaded Christopher and Gwen to stay another hour, promising an early dinner so they could get on the road before it got too dark. She’d organized a simple repast of fresh bread and soup, and Christopher was grateful the meal wrapped up quickly.

  Once the housekeeper had cleared the final dishes from the table, Christopher laid his napkin on the table and stood. “All right, Gwennie, we’d better get you home. It has been a full three days.”

  Gwen smiled and rose to her feet. “Yes, I am quite tired.”

  Clayton and Emma walked them to the door and bid them safe travel before Christopher assisted Gwen into the buggy and they took off for home.

  * * *

  Arriving at their family home in Catonsville, Maryland later than expected, Christopher settled the horses in the barn himself rather than waking their groom. He’d have plenty of time to relax without commitments for the next two days, and he intended to use his time at home to reconnect with his family.

  Christopher grew restless, not unusual for him at this hour of the night. He needed to move around. He’d never been a particularly good sleeper, but with the vast amount of information about protecting the President swimming in his head, his insomnia had gotten much worse. A new layer of snow on the ground beckoned to him.

  The blanket of white appeared gray in the darkness, and he smiled. He loved this time of night, especially with the crispness of fresh snowfall. The stars just seemed brighter in the winter, and everything so much more peaceful.

  As he gathered his outerwear, his sister walked into the foyer. “Chris? May I walk with you?”

  “You should be asleep, Gwen,” he admonished as he pulled on his gloves.

  Gwen rolled her eyes. “It’s barely nine o’clock.”

  “Past your bedtime.”

  Gwen let out a deep sigh. “I’m not a child, and I’m too pent-up to sleep. Perhaps you and Quincy have influenced my sleeping habits.”

  “I thought you said you were tired when we left the Maddens’.”

  “I slept in the buggy.”

  Christopher didn’t really want company but found it difficult to deny her. “All right.”

  Gathering their warm coats, gloves, and scarves, Christopher led Gwen toward his favorite refuge. Their parents had built a large gazebo near the barn and Christopher would go there often to think. He’d brought a few girls here to kiss in the dark as well, but he didn’t advertise that fact. They walked into the shelter of the gazebo and sat down.

  “Why are you so restless, Gwennie?”

  “I don’t know.” She sighed. “How is it you’re not falling over? You delivered the President to the White House late last night. I heard you come in well after midnight, and then you were up early this morning… even before I was.”

  Christopher shrugged. “I had paperwork to finish. How did you know I came in after midnight?”

  “I couldn’t sleep, and you have heavy feet.” She lowered her voice. “Do you think Quinn is safe?”

  Christopher patted her hand. “I pray that he is.”

  “As do I. I wish I knew where he was and when he’s coming home.”

  Standing, Christopher s
lapped his gloved hands together in an effort to warm them and began to pace the small space. “He’ll come home when the war is over—or he’s wounded.”

  Gwen gasped. “Don’t say that, Chris. I couldn’t bear it.”

  “Sorry.” Christopher grimaced and then changed the subject. “Did you enjoy Gettysburg?”

  “I loved it.” Gwen sat up, her eyes glowing. “I especially enjoyed shopping with Emma and Sophie. They’re very entertaining.”

  “That’s one way to describe them, I suppose.”

  Gwen grinned. “Do you not approve, big brother?”

  “It’s not that. Clayton is different since he married Emma—he acts in ways I never imagined he would.”

  “They are quite out of the ordinary.” Gwen chuckled quietly. “Similar to Charity, but different as well.”

  Charity Short, Gwen’s childhood friend, was closer than a sister to her. Although Gwen considered her to be a forward thinker, Christopher just thought she was outspoken and opinionated.

  “They do seem quite independent.” Christopher held a hand up and gave her a half-smile. “Don’t get any ideas.”

  “Oh, I absolutely will! More than you could ever imagine.” Christopher gave a sigh of annoyance, and Gwen laughed. “I’m telling you, Chris, one day you’re going to meet a woman who won’t be so easily charmed, and you’ll be changed just like Clayton. A woman most certainly not like Delilah.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with Delilah.”

  “That may be up for debate.” Gwen sighed. “It’s just always so easy for you and Quinn.”

  “Easy?”

  “Yes. My whole life I’ve grown up with the big brothers everyone loves. Other than Charity, I’ve never had a friend who didn’t fall in love with one of you.”

  Christopher chuckled. “I think that might be a bit of an overstatement.”

  Gwen shook her head. “It’s not and you know it. You walk into a room and the ladies swoon.”

  “Gwen.”

  She slapped a hand on one of the beams. “It’s true. Remember the church picnic last year? You walked over to greet me and Gertrude Harris fainted. Right in the middle of all those people.”

  Christopher waved a hand dismissively. “She was overheated. It was August, after all.”

  “Christopher, she was not overheated. She grabbed my hand and sighed, then made a strange sound in the back of her throat. When you smiled at her, she fell over. I don’t think we can call that anything other than a lady swooning in your presence.”

  “Where do you get your ideas from, little sister?” Christopher crossed his arms. “Perhaps spending so much time with Mrs. Madden isn’t a good idea.”

  “Is that an order from Christopher the Big?”

  Gwen and her brothers had given Christopher his nickname when Christopher had reached six feet… at the age of fourteen. He’d always been the moral compass for the siblings, and with his size, people tended to leave the Butler children alone.

  Christopher groaned. “Gwen.”

  Gwen let out an inelegant snort. “Whether you choose to acknowledge what I’m saying or not, it’s the truth, and I know you’re aware of what you’re doing, because you only smile at unattached ladies in that way.”

  “What way?”

  Gwen leaned against the railing. “You do this thing with your eyes, where they crinkle in the corner, and then you smile very slowly and wait for their reaction.”

  “I do not,” Christopher argued.

  “You do. Quinn does it as well, although his smile is less like a tiger after his prey than yours.”

  “Gwendolyn! This conversation is unseemly.”

  “Why? Because it makes you uncomfortable? Perhaps you should be uncomfortable for once. No one ever stands up to you, especially women. And certainly not Delilah. She wants your good name and position in society. She’s willing to do anything to get it.”

  “You have quite the opinion, I see.”

  Gwen pulled her scarf closer to her chin. “I think you need to marry a woman who is smart and independent. Someone who wants you, not your money or social standing. And someone who will talk back to you. If Emma’s taught me anything, it’s that.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You can be quite superior, Chris. You’re an important man, which adds to that superiority, but you’re frightening sometimes. Clayton can be as well, but he tempers his authority with humor. Your humor seems to have disappeared. You hardly smile anymore… unless it’s to a woman you want to affect. And I think Delilah is a horrid woman.”

  Christopher narrowed his eyes. His sister had never spoken to him so plainly before. He wasn’t certain where she’d gotten the sudden courage to do so, but he didn’t like it. “Where is all this coming from? Delilah has done nothing to you.”

  “But she’s done something to you… or at the very least, added to whatever has been going on… and I don’t like it.”

  “Nothing has been ‘going on,’ Gwen.” Christopher stared into the darkness. “And not that it’s any of your business, but the truth of the matter is that I enjoy Delilah’s company. I believe you’re wrong about her.”

  Before Gwen could comment, a loud crash echoed inside the barn. The horses whinnied in fright. “What was that?” Gwen stood quickly.

  “I don’t know.” Christopher jumped the gazebo railing and ran toward the stables.

  “Chris?”

  “Stay there,” he called.

  Stepping over the threshold of the barn, he grabbed a lantern, lit the wick, and then walked inside with his gun drawn. He worked to calm the horses as he continued further into the interior. Reaching the second to the last stall, he noticed a crumpled form in the corner near the tack room. He slowly walked toward it. As he got closer, he noticed the shimmer of long dark hair and realized it was a woman. He slipped his gun back into its holster, knelt down beside her, and gently swept her hair away from her face. She wore strange blue breeches and a large puffy coat made of a material he had never seen before.

  “Ma’am? Can you hear me?” He stroked her cheek and spoke softly. “Ma’am, wake up.”

  * * *

  If you like what you read, you can order the Bride Spy HERE!

  Piper Davenport is the alter-ego of New York Times Bestselling Author, Tracey Jane Jackson. She writes from a place of passion and intrigue, combining elements of romance and suspense with strong modern-day heroes and heroines.

  She currently resides in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two kids.

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