Handfasted to You: Timeswept Soulmates (Timeless Brides Book 2)

by Ginny Sterling

  “We’ll stay back a distance from them,” William explained. “Down by the docks, it can be a rough area and I don’t want to chance any problems while you are with me.” That sounded perfectly acceptable to her. She just wanted to see it for her own eyes, not really be anywhere near the water. As far as she was concerned, she was done swimming in the ocean. There was no need to get any closer any time soon.

  Turning back, they headed towards their home. It was getting late in the day and she could see snow flurries coming down. The snowflakes glittered like diamonds falling from the sky as the flurries turned from a mere dusting to a fall of large fat flakes. It was odd for it to be so very crowded in the street and she had never seen a gathering like this before. Ignoring the conversations nearby, she laughed as she brushed a snowflake off William’s eyelash. Smiling warmly, she saw the warmth in his gaze as he looked at her.

  “Life is good with you,” she whispered, cupping his face gently. He was so good to her, so kind and attentive. Today had been a tremendously perfect day. Waking in his arms after loving each other all night had been wonderful. But now? Now was perfect. Warm from their meal, the companionship, the snowfall glittering everywhere and the children’s laughter in the background seemed like something out of a Hallmark movie. The way he looked at her told her what she needed to know. He loved her. It was evident in everything he did.

  It was too perfect.

  Suddenly, something clicked in the back of her mind. Turning away from William just as he leaned down to kiss her, she saw exactly where they were at and knew what was about to happen. The drawings she had seen in history books were far more accurate than she realized. The crowds had formed and split practically down the middle. A line of British soldiers stood firmly by, as the colonials raised their voices. The talking and laughter had changed to accusations and verbal arguments. Hateful, distrustful, angry words spewed forward. Everything appeared to be in slow motion as she saw a single snowball leave a young boy’s hand. It struck the British soldier standing nearby directly in the face.

  “No,” she whispered, feeling a crushing dread in the pit of her stomach. Not here! Not now! “William, run!” she whispered fiercely, trying to push him backwards behind her. It was like trying to move a brick wall. Time seemed to slow down to a standstill.

  “What is wrong, Emeline?” he asked, concern evident in his eyes at the sudden change in her. They both heard the scream at that very moment that set the dreaded actions into motion.

  “Damn you, fire!” was shouted a short distance away from them. Emeline turned her back to the crowd, darting ahead of William as she tried to protect him bodily. The first volley of gunfire exploded in the air. She could see the recognition of what was happening in his eyes as his expression turned from concerned to horrified and angry.

  “Emeline,” he screamed, grabbing her and throwing her down into the snow. “No!”

  “Will,” she cried, yanking at his cloak in an effort to pull him close to the ground with her. “Get down!” she yelled as she stared horrified as the screaming began. Great piercing shouts and desperate cries were heard as several people collapsed there in the snow not far from where they were. Great pools of red surrounded the bodies as more soldiers filed into the open courtyard. Will stood there, staring at her with the oddest expression on his beautiful face.

  “Will?” she whispered, feeling nauseated because she already sensed what had happened. He pulled his hand away from his side and blood dripped from his fingers. “William!” she screamed as he dropped to his knees beside her.

  “Emeline? Are you all right?”

  “No! You can’t be shot!” she screamed, crying desperately and scrambling forward to help him. Huge sobs shook her frame as he fell down into the snow, stunned. Looking around, she saw several of the men from the coffeehouse running in their direction off in the distance.

  “Sam! Help me!” she yelled, the bitter tears hot and choking. “Dear God, help me!” she begged as she clutched William and tried to ascertain how badly the shot had hit him. There seemed to be blood everywhere. His precious blood! People were running around her mindlessly, screaming and bumping into them. “Step back! He’s injured! Step back!” she screamed repeatedly and lashed out if anyone got too close, physically striking them wildly to keep them from stepping on him.

  “Emeline, get yourself safe!” William ordered weakly.

  “Not yet, you big loon!” she cried, touching his face. Her fingerless gloves left streaks of blood on his cheek. He was bleeding everywhere! “William, you can’t be hurt.”

  “I had to protect you, love,” he said with a tender smile. “His rifle was pointing at you and I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “I would gladly have been shot to keep you safe,” she said thickly, wiping her eyes. “You can’t leave me.”

  “I love you,” he said softly as he reached up to touch her face. His arm dropped as he passed out. Finally, help arrived. Samuel dragged her back from William, kicking and screaming the entire time. Her body twisted and fought against the hands that attempted to hold her. Several other men gathered William’s limp body up from the ground and took him down the alleyway away from the bloody scene. She could see the bodies still lying in the snow surrounded by a wall of soldiers trying to restore order.

  “Let me help him,” she screamed at Samuel, biting at his hand rabidly to free herself. There were several people trying to pull her away now and she would have none of it! She made contact with someone, her teeth drawing blood. The metallic taste on her tongue made her bite down even harder, as if she sensed her freedom was near. Help William! her mind screamed at her. Primal instinct kicked in and she saw him in the distance. Fight them! Get to William!

  “Stop it! You’ll draw more attention to us,” Sam said angrily in a low voice. “We need to get him out of here now before they finish the deed!” His words didn’t register with Emeline as she was too upset seeing William’s limp body being carried off. She screamed his name again, only to see the butt of Samuel’s gun come flying towards her head. Darkness exploded in her mind as she finally fell limp.

  Emeline groaned in pain as her head throbbed mightily. Samuel had knocked her out there in the street. William! she thought frantically and tried to sit up. The pain in her head was too much to bear, causing her to fall backwards again. I probably have a concussion from that jackass’ wallop! she thought momentarily and then tried to open her eyes again, wincing at the pain the light caused. “William?” she whispered.

  “He’s next to you,” she heard Samuel’s angry voice. “Here,” he said grasping her hand and putting William’s hand in hers. She instantly felt comforted and she rolled to her side carefully so she could clasp it with both of her own hands. They were both lying on the floor upon what looked like a dingy horse blanket. The musty smell was offensive and rank with sweat. Cleanliness was a rare thing apparently and it was far from what looked like a hospital. She felt William’s wrist for a pulse and knew he was alive. Thank you, God, she prayed silently.

  She couldn’t believe what had happened and how fast it occurred. She had read about it repeatedly, but seeing the horror for herself would be etched in her mind forever. The stories and the drawings, while accurate, did not do justice to the crime. Murder had been committed and lives had been lost. The war was beginning and they had so much to go through together in order to come out whole on the other side as free people. Cracking open an eyelid slightly, she saw William’s beautiful, pale face nearby. He looked to be asleep. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s been shot with a musket ball clear through his side,” Samuel replied from a short distance away. Emeline looked at his harried expression and knew that he was devastated by his friend’s injury as well. “Will he die?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied honestly and put his head down in his hands. “If the shot doesn’t take him, fever might.”

  “Infection,” she repeated, nodding ever so slightly. “So, the ball is out of him?”r />
  “I believe so.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Well, no,” he retorted angrily. “I’m not a doctor.”

  “No, but you have a set of eyes in your head!” she snapped angrily.

  “You, Mrs. Spencer have a nasty temper,” he said shortly.

  “You have no idea. The Redcoat that shot my husband will die a horrible death,” she muttered with conviction. “Help me up,” she ordered as the room spun around her yet again. “Did you have to hit me so hard?”

  “Trying to pull you away from him was like wrestling a bear,” he applauded with a grin. “You bit me, Madam.”

  “I ought to bite you again for that crack to my skull,” she muttered as she stood finally. She would need to work fast if the bullet was in there. No telling how long she had been unconscious on the floor. “Get me some boiling water and put a knife in the fire.”

  “Why?”

  “Do it,” she ordered and was pleased to see Sam do as he was told. “I can’t sew him up fast enough if I have to dig out the musket ball. I will have to cauterize it shut. The boiled water is so it doesn’t get infected,” she explained and prayed that the books she had read and the movies she had seen were accurate. Last thing she wanted to do was cause his death or cause him more pain.

  Gathering a few clean-looking articles of clothing to bandage him, she inspected her surroundings. “Where are we?” she finally asked. She thought from the smell it was a barn but, instead, it looked to be a dimly lit house.

  “A friend’s home,” Samuel replied.

  “Good enough,” she retorted. She really didn’t need to know as long as they were safe. Even dingy, it would be better than being in the street or walking the distance to their house. If he dropped or died from blood loss? She couldn’t think of that now. William needed help, her help.

  “They will be caught and arrested,” he said confidently, trying to reassure her.

  “No, actually they get away with it,” she said nastily. “I didn’t realize how criminal it was. I knew people had been shot but this was murder in the highest! They should hang for it, but no! They get arrested and end up with their thumbs branded. Don’t ask! It was a bonus question on a test from school. I used to think that was horrible but now I’m thinking not so much,” she ranted angrily as she pulled back William’s cloak to check the bullet wound.

  “Mrs. Spencer, I do not care how you know this information but if you are as gifted as you seem to be, focus your attention on your husband and save your words.” Samuel was staring at her with a peculiar look.

  Emeline glanced away and studied William’s injury. The ball had torn through his vest and undershirt. But it looked to be extremely far off to the side of his torso. Could she be so lucky? If it was a lung, stomach or intestine, he would be a goner for sure. There would be no fighting infection from material entering the body cavity. Thank you very much, television medical degree! She was instantly glad she watched all those episodes on Netflix.

  Pulling up his layers of clothing, she yanked hard trying to get it to move. Unbuttoning his vest, she opened it and pulled up his shirt, finally exposing his stomach. If it wasn’t such a desperate moment, her traitorous body would reach out and trace the sprinkling of hair that disappeared into his pants. My goodness, he was gorgeous, she thought, practically drooling at the expanse of tanned skin in front of her. Focus!

  Pulling a little harder, she finally saw where the shot had hit. It looked to be just under his ribcage. There was a large piece of skin and tissue missing from his side as if the musket ball had carved a deep gash into him. No wonder he bled so much! Emeline grabbed a rag and dunked it in the boiling water, ignoring the heat on her hands as she washed his skin carefully around the wound. As she got closer to the wound, she heard him groan in his throat.

  “Will?”

  “Are you okay?” he questioned instantly as he came to.

  “Yes, how are you feeling?”

  “Injured,” he retorted and looked around at his surroundings. Satisfied with where they appeared to be, he said, “Samuel, we’ll need more guns.”

  “Aye, we will.”

  “The load is ready at my home. Can someone fetch it without being caught?”

  “Guns, huh? It can wait,” Emeline interrupted, realizing that he had just informed her of his treacherous part in the upcoming war. “You have to heal first and then we can move them.”

  “No, they need to go now so I can make more when I am healed,” William countered firmly, looking at Samuel. “Things will be tense and they will begin searching homes again. I can’t take that chance with Emeline’s life. After this, the British will hang anyone they deem to be traitors. Hanging or stocks.”

  “Consider it done,” Samuel cut in. “Just let your wife tend to you so she doesn’t bite me again,” he said with a smile.

  “You bit him?”

  “He deserved it,” she said bluntly.

  “Ah damn, my love,” he said wincing and grasping his side. “Don’t make me laugh.”

  “You shouldn’t laugh when you call me love,” she chided, stroking his hair from his forehead affectionately.

  “I’d never laugh when I tell you I love you,” he said gently.

  “You might not love me after I sear your wound closed.”

  “I will still love you,” he replied with a smile. “I just might not like you at the time.”

  “Fair enough,” she replied with a nod. There would be no apologizing for the deed in order to stop the bleeding. She grasped the hot knife from the coals.

  “Samuel, please hold him. Will, don’t look at me,” she begged, feeling nauseated. At Samuel’s nod, she placed the glowing knife against William’s skin causing it to sizzle and pop. His body arched off the makeshift bed as he tried to get away from the brand. Emeline’s heart broke as he didn’t scream or say a word.

  The scent of his beloved skin cooking under her hand and the way his body struggled silently made her feel physically ill. She dropped the knife onto the floor as she gave in to the overwhelming nausea, running for anything resembling a bucket and settling on the ash bucket by the fireplace. The scent of burnt skin was making her physically sick as she retched violently, sending a large poof of grey ash flying right up into her face. Could be the whack on the head, too. There was one show on Netflix that covered concussions and that guy was sick, too. Gee, thanks again, Adams!

  Collapsing in exhaustion, she glanced over her shoulder to see William’s warm, tired eyes watching her with a smile. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she saw the streaks it left on her hands. Frowning, she pulled her apron upwards and wiped her face again trying to rid it of ash. Accepting a pewter mug blindly, she swished the bitter ale around and spit it out into the ash bucket that was already contaminated. “I’m sorry about that,” she muttered. “I’m not a very good doctor.”

  “You are probably better than most,” she heard behind her as a man watched with approval in his eyes. “I’m Dr. Warren and this is my home,” he announced simply and moved to shake Samuel’s hand before inspecting her work on William’s wound. “I apologize that I did not come faster, but I did not know you were here. I was tending to the wounded in the square,” he muttered angrily, slapping his hat down onto a chair.

  “How many fell?” William asked as he was prodded by the doctor.

  “Don’t hurt him,” Emeline barked at him, seeing his fingers pushing on the tender skin she had just closed.

  “I’ll not hurt him any more than you just did, my dear,” he announced flatly, referring to the permanent scar. He finished his inspection, then answered William’s question. “Three dead, several injured.”

  Emeline sat silently on the floor, lost in thought. She thought a lot more people had died but perhaps not. The war was just starting and so much tension would be building from here on out. It would be a battle fought on their land. This man, Dr. Warren, would be butchered during the war. She had seen the painting in a book and thought it
was horrifying, part of the reason she remembered his name.

  Here she was, meeting people, seeing people that would be dead or injured over the next several years. This used to be the past, seeming so distant. Now, this was her new timeline and the idea of war looming in the near future would include William and her! She had no idea what it would bring for them and that was terrifying.

  Eve?

  You rang? she said mimicking Lurch from The Addams Family television show. Her face appeared in the wood floor near where Emeline was sitting. It was strange to see her face in the striations of wood and her eyes formed in two knotholes. The wood seemed to flow as her features moved. It was like Eve thrived on being creepy or intrusive.

  Did you seriously drown me only to bring me here to meet him and then kill me again? Or worse yet, kill him and leave me alone in the past?

  No, no she said and then hesitated. Well, I don’t think so at least. Lemme check my notes. The wood flowed and twisted. She appeared to be holding a worn journal in her hands but Emeline couldn’t tell due to the wood. Was it worn, dirty and torn or was that the dirty floor?

  Seriously? You don’t know?

  Let me check my notes, she repeated. Well, um it’s blank. There should be something there unless it’s being rewritten because you changed something. Did you do something crazy?

  No, he did. He protected me. William took a bullet and protected me.

  Welp, that’s probably it then! Changed the timeline.

  You mean I was supposed to get shot? That’s really shitty of you, you know that? You drown me and then line me up for a shooting? Really, really shitty. I should knock you in your knothole.

  That was a good one, knothole, she said with a smirk and then the wood turned dark with her frown. I will not say it again: Language! Do I have to rewind the clock and make his gun accurate?