Hold the Line

By Joyce Case

“To Arms! To Arms! The British are coming!”
It is 1777, and the English invade South Carolina with fated Lt. Gen. Charles Earl Cornwallis and a young lieutenant colonel in the British Legion, Banastre Tarleton, whose exploits as a cavalryman in the South Carolina campaign would become the counter-legend to the famous Francis Marion. It was Tarleton who cleverly dubbed Marion as “the Swamp Fox.”
Passionately romantic but wholesome, Hold the Line is fiction that rings with truth, full of believable characters and adventures set against the backdrop of an exciting chapter in real American history.
Sashsa, Colton, Ziva, Drake, and even George Washington himself show up in the pages of this series, keenly developed by a brilliant writer into living, breathing, three-dimensional people with whom we can all relate.
This book makes you long for times of old, for deeper relationships, and fosters a greater appreciation for our country and our faith. Not all books can stir such emotion, but the writings of Joyce Case certainly do. The hard work and passion of the author herself is seen in her headstrong heroine and the entire cast of this story that is difficult to put down.
As hordes of English intruders sweep the colonies, Ziva Isabella Dupris Gray fights relentlessly to keep her own independence from Scottish Captain Drake Cameron, the man who stirs her very soul. Will her consuming passion for him make her surrender her precious identity and join him to pursue the ultimate independence of the colonies?

In this sensational tale of passion and an undeniable love, Sashsa Nicole Lorraine Dupris Gray and Colonel Colton Tyler Gray continue their fight for independence alongside the Commander-in-Chief General George Washington. Danger lurks behind every shadow as the secret patriots of the spy ring provide vital correspondence to the Spymaster.
Victory rings out, and freedom is had, giving birth to a new nation. The saga lives on to more exciting adventures with a new heroine to make her debut.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Sep 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781532079764

Joyce Case

After many exciting careers, Joyce decided to pursue her childhood dream of writing a novel. Runaway, a historical romance, was Joyce’s first attempt to realize this dream; Stay the Course ignites the romantic saga. The tale of passion explodes with Strength and Honor. Her newest work, Hold the Line, exceeds its predecessors, delighting readers with even more romance and adventure woven creatively into the panorama of our nation's birth. Be transported to another era, a time of heroes and deep-running passion. You will find yourself longing for times of old, heart-pounding adventure, and remarkable relationships, with a greater appreciation for our country and our faith. Not all books can stir such emotion, but, the writings of Joyce Case certainly do. The hard work and passion of the author herself is evident in her headstrong heroine and the entire cast of the story she so brilliantly tells. Joyce lives with her husband of fifty years and finds her greatest enjoyment in spending time with their two daughters and five grandsons, counting her blessings daily. Her background in music, athletics, and sales/marketing have provided Joyce with a wonderful and exciting life, full of many interesting experiences and opportunities. Along the way, she’s met a host of interesting and fascinating people, many of whom have served as inspiration for the characters within the stories she pens. Join Joyce on her story of a bold, daring, tenacious heroine during a tumultuous era of the pursuit of colonial independence!

Book preview

Hold the Line

JOYCE CASE

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HOLD THE LINE

Copyright © 2019 Joyce Case.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Certain characters in this work are historical figures, and certain events portrayed did take place. However, this is a work of fiction. All of the other characters, names, and events as well as all places, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-5320-7977-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-7976-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019911647

iUniverse rev. date: 09/09/2019

CONTENTS

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1 The Flight

Chapter 2 The New Beginning

Chapter 3 The Surprise

Chapter 4 The Victory

Chapter 5 The Turning Point

Chapter 6 The Ghost

Chapter 7 The Spy Ring

Chapter 8 The New Arrival

Chapter 9 The Perfect Encounter

Chapter 10 The Secret Love

Chapter 11 The Promise

Chapter 12 The New Army

Chapter 13 The Broken Heart

Chapter 14 The Reprisal

Chapter 15 The War Rages On

Chapter 16 The Game Starts Again

Chapter 17 The Beginning of the End

Chapter 18 The Nightmare

Chapter 19 The Endless Pursuit

Chapter 20 The Big Surprises

Chapter 21 The Escape to Love

Chapter 22 The Calm Before the Storm

Chapter 23 The Worst to the Best

Chapter 24 The March to Victory

Chapter 25 The Surrender

The Rendezvous

RUNAWAY EXCERPT

CASE HISTORICAL ROMANCE NOVELS

BY JOYCE CASE

TO ARMS….TO ARMS….

A head strong vivacious temptress in need…… A personal scout for Colonel George Washington hopelessly in love…

It was 1754 and the French controlled the Ohio River Valley securing an alliance with the Indian six nations. The British are planning a bold move to take over, touching off the French and Indian War.

Sashsa Nicole Lorraine Dupris never expected to be right in the middle of the conflict. She was enjoying her status as the most available debutante of Montreal but is forced to run away from all she loved to daring adventures beyond her imagination. Rich by her birth right, she becomes involved and befriends Colonel George Washington, Major Robert Rogers and many more notable and famous people of her time.

Colton Tyler Gray, a Major in the Virginia Militia as personal scout to Colonel George Washington never expected to fall madly in love with a head strong, vivacious temptress who spurs his proposals. Sashsa is determined not to relinquish her hard earned independence.

Destiny brings the two together to hunt for the persons bent on revenge. Only Colton can unlock the tenderness and hidden passion in Sashsa, but it is not easy. He vows she will be his. Once together, they build a dynasty that will live on in history.

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to those who have encouraged me, in so many ways, to pursue my dream of becoming a published author…

To my mother, Jerry Waldman, who told me I march to the beat of a different drum and encouraged me to be me.

To Robert and Maribel Graves, two beautiful people who loved me, inspired me, and encouraged me to be all I can be.

I salute my daughters, Tifani and Terri, for your continuous support. I am so blessed to have you, and I love you darlin’s!

My deepest, heartfelt gratitude goes to Ricki Ticki Konkel, Linda Harris, Jennifer Kavenaugh, Batya Maman Sabag, Denise Smallwood, and my beloved Ginny Brenner, who have wrapped their arms around me with never-ending support.

Words cannot express my appreciation for the incredible devotion Peggy Schertzer has shown me. Her words of wisdom and encouragement have given me the drive to continue the pursuit of my dream. She is simply the best!

Last but not least, I must thank my husband, Gary, for his undying support and his unforgettable wise words: If you do not finish it, you will never know. Even after I’ve penned three novels, he still encourages me to continue to pursue my dreams.

PROLOGUE

The Destiny

A bolt of lightning flashed, jolting the room into stark white and black. A mighty crash of thunder roared until the very structure of the row house trembled. The clap continued its ear-splitting echo as another brilliant bolt rent the air outside and the wicked light came again, exposing a face with high cheekbones, framed by jet-black hair with wisps of gray at the ends. He sat in the cushioned chair next to the bed, leaning over, as flash after flash assaulted the sky, blasting glaring light through the windows.

Colton strained to hear the precious words that wafted into his ears between thunder blasts. Sashsa lay on the bed, burning up with fever, thrashing and rolling about like a woman gone mad. When he tried to restrain her, she lashed out at him, deliriously wailing and calling his name, tortured by utter agony. He felt her suffering with every move she made, every cry that ripped through the room, and the wound on her back was oozing green and black pus, a sure sign of vicious infection. Kele’s salve was not working, but she promised to mix up a stronger remedy. As he waited for what he hoped would be some sort of respite, a cure, Colton wrapped Sashsa in his arms and tried to still the quaking of her body as she clung to him.

A gust of wind struck the house and flung the shutters wide, sending a furry of rain and torrential gales to lash the room. Sashsa cowered in the dark, pulling hard on Colton’s strong, thick neck, until his face was touching hers. A flicker of blinding white light revealed her ghostly face to Colton, and his heart was wrenched by what he saw: Her eyes were wide, and tears were streaming down her cheeks

As he took her in his arms again, she clawed at his chest pleading, Love me, Colton.

I do love you, my love, he whispered softly, in relenting pity.

Her eyes were tightly shut; her body weak and struggling, yet her trembling lips remained so inviting, so desperate for the touch of his. He felt her heart beating rapidly against his chest, yearning for his closeness, desperate to continue its pulse of life. You are the only real love in my life, Sashsa. I love you from the depths of my soul. We will be together again, but not yet. I do want you, more than anything, but you are too weak, and need your rest.

Pulling away to stare into his eyes, Sashsa collided her dry lips with his. Her eyes never left the capture of his gaze as she slowly released his neck and slumped over.

CHAPTER ONE

The Flight

The city was caught in the unrelenting grip of a cold, unforgiving, misty darkness. The miserable night effectively disguised the passage of a carriage that sped through the narrow streets, as if trying to flee some dreadful disaster. It lurched and tottered precariously over the cobblestones, its elevated wheels sending mud and water splattering off to the sides and in its wake. The driver, ominously large and cloaked in black, hauled on the reins, hurling an oath down at the team of dapple grays, but his booming voice was lost beneath the heavy thudding of pounding hooves and the rattling clatter of churning wheels. The clamor of the ride echoed through the chilling night until it seemed to come from every direction. The dark, wheeled silhouette darted through dim pools of light cast from the flickering door lanterns of the baroque façades it passed. Penetrating the perpetual noise, the big clock mounted on the front of Independence Hall cried ten strokes, signaling the hour.

Ziva Isabella Dupris Cameron back in the soft, red velvet seats of the carriage to brace herself against the reckless speed. She was little concerned with her obscure surroundings. She was all alone, completely silent, with only the loud thoughts in her own head for conversation. As the carriage vaulted, streams of light peeked through the window, falling on a most delicate, oval face, accented by a long, flowing, golden mane of cascading hair. Her high cheekbones accented her luscious complexion around her immense, sea-green eyes, giving the young woman a look of aristocratic royalty. Full, pouty lips covered a perfectly white smile. With her undeniable youth and beauty, Ziva had the uncanny ability to melt even the iciest of hearts, with just one look. She was almost inhumanly beautiful, too perfect to be suffering the inner battle that raged within her.

Between her worries, glimpses of happier times invaded a corner of her mind, forcing a little smile to flash across her velvet lips. She squeezed her eyes in rebellion, not wanting to lose those memories of her love to take their leave. She envisioned his lips coming ever closer, hypnotizing her very soul. Strong, muscular arms draw her nearer, stealing her breath away, and his words pounded in her ears all over again: I, Drake Hugho Cameron, bestow all my bodily love and devotion to only you, placing you above all others, my love, my Ziva. You are my heart and soul, and I promise to honor and cherish you, to shower you always with love and affection. I bless the day I found you, and there will be only love around you as long as I live.

Ziva reached out, folded her arms tightly around her chest, and laid her restless head on the soft pillow, allowing the swaying of the carriage to rock her back and forth.

Suddenly echoes of laughter assaulted and consumed her mind, flashes of a distorted, monstrous face, throwing his head back and peering into her eyes. Nearer and nearer he came, until her eyes darted open. Hysterical with fear, Ziva clutched the pillow close to her breasts, twisting the corner in her long, delicate fingers. She sat motionless, staring out the window and into the dark, gloomy night. The next voice to ring in her ears was her father’s: "My Sashsa, how can I live without you?"

She squeezed her eyes shut again in an effort to block the image of her father’s melancholy face, then inhaled deeply and released that breath slowly, trying to calm her heart, which was suddenly beating like a frightened rabbit’s. Oh, Mother, my heart is breaking! I do hope I arrive in time.

* * *

Sunrise was masked by a thick fog that hung like a shroud over the city of Philadelphia. The stately Independence Hall, with its red brick, freshly painted white pillars, and Georgian style, was inarguably the main focus of any searching eyes in the area. The enormous clock at the west end struck eight times.

Her fiery red hair tumbled over her shoulders, a warning to all of her rebellious nature. Her head tilted high to gaze up at the hour, and long, velvety eyelashes blinked away the glare of the sun. Taking notice of the many people gathering on the adjacent street, she strolled in their direction, choosing her steps wisely, so as to not soil her satin slippers. Her dainty hand held a parasol over her head, swirling it around and around with each graceful footfall. The thunder in the distance coerced her to a faster gait.

As she approached the crowd, her infectious smile took over. What has happened? she asked, her soft voice interrupting a striking gentleman in uniform, who was attempting to give instructions to the horde.

Authority was written all over his face. He removed his hat rapidly and bowed lowly. His eyes peeked up, slowly devouring the vision of her small waist and moving upward, ever so carefully, to focus on her full bosom. After one quick heartbeat, he forced his eyes to roam up to cherry-sweet lips, poised in the most inviting smile. After another flutter of his heart, he found his words and uttered, from deep within, Why, Miss… Aidan trailed off and leaned closer, awaiting for her response and introduction.

She bowed her head momentarily before staring into his dark brown eyes, then raised one perfectly arched brow before answering.

Aidan was entirely captivated with her coquettish way, and her teasing eyes beckoned his absolute attention. Time stood still as both stood toe to toe, mesmerized by the moment of their encounter.

Miss Gretchen Bollack, sir. Then, with no hesitation whatsoever, she thrust her hand out, anticipating him to take it into his. She knew he was aroused by her beauty and well-endowed figure, so she wrapped her little finger around his and made sure to linger a tad too long, just enough to send a ripple of shivers through Aidan’s male physique.

He regained his composure surprisingly quickly and managed, Colonel Aidan Reed, at your service, Miss Gretchen Bollack. He thought he recollected the name, but her face and body did not match the person he thought it belonged to. I’m sorry, miss, but have we met before? he asked politely. Something about your name rings familiar.

You must be referring to my cousin, Josephine Bollack, whom I’m visiting for a spell. I come to Philadelphia to feel safe again, sir.

Aidan, please, if you will. He clicked his heels together and straightened his lean, well-portioned body to look into her baby-blue eyes.

Gretchen blushed, rolled her eyes, and let out a girlish giggle. Only if you agree to call me Gretchen, she said. ’Tis only fair, kind sir. She brought her shoulders up in a shrug that landed her chin quite close to her full breast.

I dare say you are stunning, Gretchen. You take my breath away. I have almost forgotten why I am here. A boyish grin crept over his face as his eyes shone brightly.

Oh? And why is that exactly, Aidan? Why are you here? She teasingly toyed with her closed parasol, spinning it around in front of her like a child’s top.

Slowly and sadly, Aidan’s smile melted into a most serious, almost stoic expression. Gretchen, I regret to inform you that you may not find your safety here. The British are coming to Philadelphia…soon.

Gretchen’s smile followed suit, quickly departing, and a shocked countenance took over her face, wrinkling her brow. Doesn’t General Washington hold Philadelphia? It was my understanding that the British would be kept at bay here. My cousin Jo and her husband Douglas both said I should come.

My orders are to secure the people of our fine city and fall into service to repel the British advance, Aidan recited, sounding none too enthusiastic about it as he looked around at the disgruntled, nervous crowd. May I escort you to the place where you intend to stay, just so I know you will be as safe as possible?

And what about you? she asked somberly.

Believe me when I say I’d rather be with you than in any battle anywhere, but I fear they will soon occupy these streets. He swung his arm out wide and looked off to the distance before he deliberately placed one around her shoulders, in an effort to comfort and console her.

Gretchen smiled when the heat of his body penetrated the thin shawl, leaving her arm warm and pleasant. There was something about the man that left her weak; just a graze of his arm seemed to scorch her, inside and out, leaving its mark.

Suddenly, a dispatch rider burst out of the fog, his mount lathered and breathless. He galloped through the thronged streets, bearing one of the twice-daily dispatches from General George Washington to the Second Continental Congress.

Aidan watched the rider dismount and take the steps two at a time before entering the large door of Independence Hall. Like the distinguished men and women, he also anxiously awaited word of the impending battle, a confrontation in which he would inevitably be involved. He stood with Gretchen, stately and silent, as the thunder rolled again, a far-off booming, like a town crier smacking them all with a sudden surge of terrible reality.

Just like that, war was knocking at the front door of the fine city of Philadelphia. General Washington would have to answer that knock, to clash with General William Howe, his adversary, on the soft banks of Brandywine Creek.

* * *

I have spent the entire summer dodging and avoiding Howe, but now I can only watch as he unloads his ample warships along the creek banks at that confounded sandbar off Sandy Hook. With every word, his arm jetted from his body, thrusting an angry fist in the air. He cocked his head around quickly and barked, What made him decide on that location anyway?

He deliberately locked his large hands together behind his back, and his dignified silhouette paced deliberately as the lantern fluttered in circles, casting a sinister glow in the room. His steel-gray eyes were full of determination, his lips sealed firmly together, emphasizing his sturdy chin as he raised his head to the heavens, till he demanded, And where are they now, Colonel Bateson?

Washington’s demanding voice shook Case, and he spoke with a slight stutter as he replied, S-Sir, our scouts say they seem to be in no hurry, exercising a, uh…lackluster tempo. The mud from the recent rain is rendering it very difficult for them to make headway. Our snipers are picking off their officers at every opportunity, General. Momentarily relaxing his tense body, Case slid back down on the crude bench and joined the assembly of officers, all eager to hear what their role would be in Washington’s latest brilliant scheme.

My covert contact has given me valuable information, gentlemen. Washington turned to face his audience of officers before continuing, Up until this point, General Howe has played a reckless game with our advances, but it is now obvious that he is quite serious about taking our capital. Washington paused to look into the faces that were staring back at him. I have been informed that he plans to divide his troops with Lt. General Wilhelm von Knyphausen, that foul Hessian conducting the frontal attack.

Thick fingers gripped his mug of rum and lifted it to his lips. After a long sip, Washington continued, I trust I do not need to caution you gentlemen about the importance of exercising discretion with any and all strategies we discuss. I do wish to hear your thoughts so we may put together the best plan to proceed.

For several exaggerated minutes, not a sound could be heard in the room. Heads only nodded in compliance and understanding. Then, gradually, voices summoned Washington’s ear, until silence fell over the room once more.

With a soft cough, Washington resumed his speech as commander-in-chief of the group. It is my understanding he said, that the frontal assault will be waged from Kennett Square to the main crossing of the Brandywine at Chadd’s Ford. I appreciate all of your insightful proposals, but in consideration of your advice, gentlemen, I feel our best possible defensive opportunity is to position ourselves between the British and our beloved Philadelphia. Major General Armstrong, you and your militia will hold the left flank at Pyles’s Ford. General Green…

Yes, sir?

You and your men will mind the heights overlooking the main crossing, joined by General Wayne and his division.

Washington then glanced over at Case and gave him a stern look with his ever-so-steely gray-blue eyes before he summoned Colonel Thomas Proctor. You and your men will leave for Chadd’s Ford within the hour, equipped with an ample supply of shovels and picks. I trust you, Colonel Proctor, to scope out the best hill. Dig deep and long, entrenching the entire horizon. In reserve, Major General Stephen and Alexander will be ready at my command, to defend where needed.

With his body coiled like a cobra ready to strike, Case stood and faced his mentor and friend, then nodded to interrupt. Only when Washington returned a slow nod of his own did Case bring his musket high over his head. We will fight and defend our own, gentlemen. Victory is ours! Case then thrust his weapon forward, rallying the officers to grab his musket as a display of their undying commitment of loyalty and unity, for the admirable cause of liberty.

CHAPTER TWO

The New Beginning

Waking came with a brightness that seemed almost painful, and Sashsa’s mind slowly adjusted and became aware of the disturbing glare. Light filled the entire room, and while she was lying with her back to the windows, it still intruded, shining through her closed eyelids, penetrating her brain. She retreated beneath the pillow while releasing a loud groan that summoned Colton to the side of her bed.

His dark, hooded eyes watched as Sashsa sighed, then rolled over on her stomach. He moved his hands up to his eyes and rubbed them gently, then stilled, not quite believing what came into focus. Sashsa’s breath was no longer ragged and labored, nor was it interrupted by coughing and hacking. His eyes strayed to the soft, satiny skin clinging to the small of her back, as soft and yielding and inviting as he remembered it. Sucking in his breath, he squeezed his eyes shut and allowed himself to drift back to a time when the sweet sound of her voice quickened his heart, making him surrender all his thoughts other than those fancy fascinations about his dearly beloved Sashsa.

Sashsa stirred sleepily as a hand began to caress the small of her back, kneading away the stiffness she sensed more than actually felt. Lazily, she stretched like a sleek, contented feline as the strong fingers enticed her to return to her dreamy slumber. As Colton quietly sat on the side of the bed, a throaty moan escaped her parted lips, and she displayed a pleasing smile as she arched her back against the gentle massaging, letting it soothe her aches and pains. Colton’s hand plied her back and the soft muscles across her shoulders, sending waves of weakening pleasure up and down her spine. When she could stand the pleasure no more, she rolled toward the source of her enjoyment, pressing her back into his hard, furry chest. Her head lolled upon his strong,-muscled shoulder, and she rubbed her cheek against his smooth, warm skin, nibbling at his tender, moist lips. You missed a spot, luv, she said. Her soft chest crashed against his lean, hard one, so close Sashsa could feel his heart pounding next to her ample breasts.

He lowered his hungry mouth to hers and whispered into her ear, Good morning, luv. I’ve missed you.

She pulled away from his face with a questioning look, hesitating to speak.

Colton wrapped his arms tightly around her with great force, then buried his head in her breasts, fearing it was all just another dream, terrified that his Sashsa was dead. He couldn’t bear to let go, for fear that if he did not hold on tight, she would be gone.

Colton, release me this moment. You are crushing me. As I have said many times, you must show your love gently, softly. Her lips jutted out in a pout, then her chin followed as she puckered up with an imaginary kiss for him.

He raised his head and peered into those enticing emerald eyes that were staring at him with a look of impatience. You are… You’re really here, in my arms!

Well, of course I am. Where else would I be but in your arms? Tilting her head to one side, she studied his face before she kissed him on the cheek and pushed him away. I must dress to meet the day. The sun is already up, and I want to ride my Bay Girl. She is like a little child and grows so ill-tempered when I do not show her the attention she demands. I think I will take her a treat. Sashsa brought her index finger to her cheek and cupped it with thought. Hmm…perhaps a carrot or and apple. She turned to Colton and gave him a flutter of her long lashes, inviting him closer. Sashsa quickly picked up the pillow and shouldered his waiting lips, then pushed the pillow harder and harder until he fell back on the bed. With the speed of a cat, she straddled his chest, leaned into his face, and nibbled his ear before teasing the lobe with a soft blow of warm breath.

Colton, stunned and relieved, could only marvel at her, taking her playfulness in stride and enjoying every minute of her display of affection.

Sashsa hopped out of bed, looking over her shoulder to make sure Colton was watching every seductive sway of her hips. She hastily snatched her cherished robe that Kele had made for her many years ago. She held her treasure up for a moment to examine it, then hugged it close to her heart. I have not seen Kele for days, Colton. I must visit her, Moki, Kitchi, and Pahana. I love them so. The boys are so playful, and they make me feel like a child again. I cannot wait until we have a baby boy or girl, God willing, of course.

Colton managed a big grin for her, but when Sashsa turned around and started splashing water on her face, he found it quite difficult to contain his emotions. Should I correct her or play along? He silently questioned as his smile quickly faded.

* * *

Her face was etched with blankness and wrinkles, a clear display of the stress and worry that threatened to overcome her. She stared mindlessly at the soft cotton rag, stained with black and gray marks from the silver ladle in her hand.

Jo knew the battle had begun, and her heart felt empty as she thought about it. She turned to retrieve another piece of silver to polish, dazed and consumed with flashes of Douglas’s handsome, rugged face. For a brief moment, she thought she heard his voice: I love you, my Jo… Her eyes clamped shut, but tears still managed to creep out of the corners and down both cheeks. Her hands wrung and twisted, and her head bowed in agony. Desperately, she tried to hold back the flood and sobbing, to no avail.

As she dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief and blew her nose loudly, she heard footsteps in the spacious corridor. She placed the tarnished ladle down and began walking toward the noise, only to hear a giggle around the corner. Well familiar with that sweet resonance, Jo quickened her step, almost running for joy. In a blur of bliss, she came face to face with emerald eyes as soft, strong hands seized hers. Before she knew it, she found herself dancing around the kitchen floor, squealing and jumping until they parted their embrace. Sashsa! Is it really you? I cannot believe my eyes. Just two days ago, you were in a deep sleep, breathing so shallowly, but now… Well, here you are! she said.

Sashsa pulled back slightly, looking confused. Her head tilted to the side, and her eyes were clouded with confusion as a deep line furrowed her smooth forehead.

Jo remained silent as she watched Sashsa shake her head in disbelief.

I know nothing of what you speak of, Jo. I am fine and have not been ill. Sashsa squeezed Jo’s hands tightly as she stared at her face.

I have assured Sashsa that she is fine, just a little tired. Colton cut in, peeking around the corner. He looked just as baffled as Jo was, but he managed to plaster a smile on his face for Sashsa’s sake.

Jo hesitated but carried on as if they were just visiting, as if the horrible stabbing had never occurred. Come sit. I’ll fix us a cup of tea, and that will soothe our nerves a bit.

Nerves? Sashsa asked.

Yes. I am afraid my dear Douglas left last night to join Washington and his men, Jo said, but her faux grin continued to curl her lips as she watched Sashsa wrinkle her brow again.

But… Sashsa’s petite hand moved up near her temple, as she tried to remember things she had obviously forgotten somehow. Isn’t George with his beloved Martha? Colton, what is happening? Are we not at the plantation in Montreal? The war ended, did it not? What is all this talk of Douglas joining Washington’s men?

Now, now, luv, you needn’t worry about that. Just have a cup of tea with Jo and enjoy your day. Washington is here on business and will stop to visit soon. As he spoke, he moved over to rub Sashsa’s shoulders, in an attempt to reassure her. He flashed a discreet wink to Jo, then moved back to his seat.

Sashsa bowed her head and placed her hands on either side, then slowly moved it back and forth.

Colton and Jo observed her with anxious eyes for a moment, before another suggestion came to Colton’s mind. Perhaps we should go home so you can rest, my dear.

Sashsa whirled around and snapped, Rest? That is the last thing I want to do, Colton. I feel as if I’ve been sleeping forever. I want to live, feel, and express, but it seems my mind is…betraying me. I know nothing of the incidents and situations you two are referring to. Do you think I am a child? Do you think I did not notice that look the two of you shared or the trembling in dear Jo’s hands? Something is wrong, and I plan to get to the bottom of it right now, with or without your help.

* * *

The cracking noise of the carriage wheels as they came to a stop announced the arrival of Ziva Isabella Gray Cameron to the entrance of the manor house, but dread consumed her face as she waited for the footman to open the door. While stepping down, she spied a dim light in the upstairs room where her mother was being cared for during her dramatic ordeal and recovery under the supervision of Kele Gray, her aunt and second mother. Kele had informed Ziva two days prior, with tears rolling down her cheeks, that Sashsa was in a deep coma and would soon succumb to her injuries, inflicted by the Earl of Kenton, Sir Ashton Giles Greenwald.

With every small step Ziva took, her folded fists pounded the sides of her legs in anger, hurt, sorrow, and the thought of losing her cherished mother. She knew she would find her father at Sashsa’s bedside, devoted to the end. A gust of wind blew through her hair as she struggled to choke back her tears and her anguish.

Ziva’s knock was loud and long as she took out her frustrations on the big, wooden door. Expecting her father or perhaps Kele, she knocked again, even more loudly this time. She glanced at the footman, but he ignored her and turned and climbed back up into the driver seat, then made quick work of steadying the horses with a jerk on the reins. After several minutes of standing in darkness, Ziva opened the door and charged in. Why didn’t I come sooner? she scolded herself as she stepped inside.

To her dismay, she found herself alone in the dark hallway, fumbling for a lantern she knew to be next to the door on the Queen Anne table her mother cherished. With the light to lead her safely up the stairs, Ziva mounted the first step quickly, but she heard a door close. Not sure which door it was, she began to yell for her father, then thought better of the idea, as she wasn’t sure if the intruder was friendly or harmful or an intruder at all. Her dear mother had taught her well when it came to unexpected danger. What is it she always says? It is easier to wipe egg off your face than it is to find yourself in danger without a weapon.

Straining to hear another sound, any tell-tale noise whatsoever, Ziva turned to face the steps before taking them two at a time. She raced to the front bedroom, entered quickly, and slipped the board latch down. Finally feeling safe, she considered her circumstances. Her imagination was going full speed. Has Father been hurt or…worse? She did not know whether to yell out or remain silent. What to do, what to do…

As she stood with her ear to the door, a board screamed with a loud creak. Ziva jumped sideways, covering her mouth so the scream that wanted to part her lips would not slip out. Swiftly, she grabbed her mother’s hairbrush from its place next to the wash basin, raised it high above her head, and riveted her eyes on the door. She waited for another noise, then suddenly lifted her gown and petticoats and pulled her Derringer from her garter. Step one foot in this room, and it will be the last step you take, whoever you are, she silently vowed. I will shoot you right between the eyes, as my father so ably taught me.

* * *

I met the most handsome, charming man today while strolling the lawn outside the Hall. Gretchen rolled her eyes and shrugged, then whirled around in a circle, a perfectly executed pirouette. Her smile was intoxicating as she waltzed up to her cousin Jo and placed a sweet kiss on her cheek.

You put me in the mind of someone very dear to me, acting so happy and flirtatious. Your dancing needs work, however, if you want to rival her. Jo smiled, tilting her head to one side. Now, do tell me about this handsome, stranger. Did you bother to ask for his name, or were you too taken by his charm to do the proper thing?

Someday I will put you in your place, old lady. Gretchen forced a smile onto her face, then hesitated slightly before answering, Oh, I assure you, dear cousin, that I am always a proper lady. He took my hand and introduced himself as Colonel Aidan Reed, she said, a catty reply that left Jo on guard for the next one. With a smug look, Gretchen continued, In full control of my manners, as always, I told him my name, loud and clear. Her eyes flashed daggers as she placed her hands on her hips and sashayed over to the Georgian, where she plopped down, with every inch of her body coiled up, as if ready to strike at Jo.

The corners of Jo’s mouth curled as she stared into Gretchen’s hard, bliue eyes. Excellent, my dear Gretchen. I only hope you did the family proud after the introductions were over. She lifted her brow, daring Gretchen to come up with a better retort.

Bowing her head and perching her lips tightly, Gretchen only nodded her reply. She then changed the subject quite abruptly by asking, I noticed you had visitors this evening. Anyone I know?

Gretchen had a deep desire to know everyone’s business, and she enjoyed making her mark in the lives of everyone she encountered. Her selfishness and lack of compassion for others surfaced soon after meeting her. With men, she put her dual personality to work, easily hypnotizing them into bringing her every whim to fruition. She saw all females as rivals, including Jo, and her jealous nature made her a serious threat to all Jo held dear.

Gretchen Bollack, let’s get something straight right here and now, Jo demanded. You are in my home, but that does not mean you are privileged to know my business, nor anything about those who come to call. Your mother, my Aunt Babs, feared for your safety and requested that Douglas and I allow you to stay for a spell, but you do not and will not rule this roost. Jo’s voice escalated an octave with each word she spoke, revealing her anger. She stared at Gretchen with a stern expression, waiting for the response that was sure to be disrespectful and flippant, the only kind of response the young woman knew how to muster when faced with opposition or authority of any kind.

Gretchen’s countenance remained unchanged, completely cool and calm. She casually ran her tongue along her bottom lip, then smiled brightly. Dear Jo, I cherish you and Douglas, and I will forever be grateful for your hospitality, for enabling me to enjoy my life, safe in family arms. I fully understand my limitations and boundaries here, and I will observe them for your sake. Now, enough of this serious talk. Her gloved hand flipped out several times, as if she was sweeping away all Jo had said.

We will continue this serious talk when I see fit, but there will be another time for that, Gretchen, Jo said. Just know that if you think you have me fooled, it is you who are the fool. I know you well, so take this as your fair warning. With that, Jo spun around on her heels and marched off to the kitchen. To calm herself, she pulled out a chair and slowly took her cup of tea to her lips.

As the warm beverage warmed her and settled her down, Jo’s mind drifted off to Sashsa and their strange encounter. Her head hung low, next to her dainty teacup, as she pondered how she might be able to help her friend. To lose one’s memory for a certain amount of time must be frightening, if not devastating. Oh, poor, poor Sashsa!

* * *

Keep your heads down! Aim small, miss small! Colonel Bateson bellowed as he rode his Azari up and down his ranks. Hiding behind the tree line and hillcrest, his regiment waited patiently in the hot September sun. They knew from the scout reports that Howe’s column left Kennett Square between four and five a.m. It was nearly two p.m. now, and the long march by the king’s men put them on a collision course with Case’s domain.

Say, isn’t that Joseph Galloway riding with Howe and Cornwallis? That no-good traitor! Now I know where to send my first shot. Garrett wiped his brow with his sleeve and moved closer to Aidan, who was watching through his spy glass as the British column filed down in front of him.

Looking over at Garrett, Aidan said, through a big, gleaming smile, Only if I miss.

Garrett responded with an arrogant look and a wide grin of his own.

Just then, General Howe held his hand up, and a loud, Halt! echoed all around.

Aidan looked at Garrett, motioning for him to swing around the other side of the pine they were hiding behind. Looks like they’re gettin’ ready to sit and rest for a spell, maybe have a bite. Oughtta be easy pickin’s, my friend. He licked his thumb and ran it along his loading rod.

Well, I can’t blame ’em for resting. It’s so hot. I musta lost a gallon of water sitting here. Those Hessians must be melting in those wool uniforms and funny hats. I hope we get the strike order soon, while they’re tired, hungry, and sweating in this scorching heat.

Howe and Cornwallis mounted quickly and rode straight up the crest, toward where Aidan and Garrett were hiding.

Garrett nearly choked on the jerky he’d popped in his mouth a while back, and a sticky stream of salty saliva ran down his chin.

Holy smoke, Garrett! We’ve been spotted, Aidan said. If they cross Osbourne Hill, they’ll know our strength, our numbers. Now’s the time to attack those rebels.

* * *

The ride back to the manor house was a silent one indeed. Sashsa just stared out the window blankly, while Colton caressed her hand in his.

He was totally lost as to what to do for his bride, so he just did his best to be by her side, comforting and consoling her. She did not push him away; it was actually quite the opposite. After all they’d been through; her need for him was even more evident. It was if her strong, determined spirit had been crushed. Maybe if I smoother her with kisses and gently ease her mind, she will rally to her old self, he hoped, though his company didn’t seem to be making much of a difference.

For her part, Sashsa was angry with herself for being so confused and miserable, fearing the worst. Oh, Colton, my love, what is wrong with me? Will you continue to love me or seek another?

They drowned in their own thoughts as the carriage swayed to miss a large rut, sending the two forlorn bodies into one another. Instantly, a fiery spark of passion and desire ignited with that impromptu meeting. Beneath his fingers, the smooth coil of hair at her nape tumbled to freedom.

Colton lifted a copious lock of her hair and inhaled the delicious fragrance that wafted from it. He murmured close to her ear, stroking the silken locks, Sashsa… He then pulled in his reins, quickly reminding himself, Slowly, now. Do not rush, or you will destroy this precious moment of your love.

Sashsa pressed her ample breasts firmly against his chest, enjoying his caress. The bright hue of her cheeks and the flashing of her eyes was the proof that she still adored and yearned for his affections. Colton’s excitement over the spark returning pushed him to her moist, inviting lips that were begging to be kissed.

Sashsa, smothered by his nearness, moaned softly with each enduring kiss. With her body demanding pleasure and her mind suddenly liberated from any and all confusion, she knew he was what she wanted, more than anything in the world. My love, my life, I want all you have to give and more.

Her whispered words drove him into a rhythmic motion, and they entwined their bodies, with heavy breathing and soft, joyous groans flowing from her lips. Nose to nose, lips to lips, with their warm breath enticing longings that had been locked up for far too long in the prison of her precarious illness, they released their love for one another, paying no mind to the carriage driver or the scenery blurring by.

The halting of the carriage even went unnoticed, until the footman opened the door, surprising the two lovers. Sashsa leaned back into the darkness of their small nest, leaving Colton to acknowledge the intruder with a nod of his head.

Colton looked into Sashsa’s eyes and gave her a wink, then gently pinched her nose. We shall resume this most pleasant night of lovemaking in our bed, he announced in a low, husky voice. There, we will have a considerable amount of room to enjoy our love to its fullest. I assure you, luv that it will be a night to remember.

CHAPTER THREE

The Surprise

The light knock came as a surprise to Ziva as she clutched her weapon firmly in her hand, her knuckles growing white around it beneath her glove. She hesitated to answer until the knock became louder and a voice called out, Is anybody in there? Archie here. I’ve come to clean the bedrooms.

Ziva leaned close to the latch, not sure whether to open the door or just remain silent. This is foolish of you. You have a gun, and you cannot hide in here forever. Open the door, she admonished herself.

Determined not to show any fear whatsoever, she finally lifted the heavy wooden latch and pulled the door open. She peeked around the frame and spotted a young man, with bucket and mop in hand. Her green eyes roamed his face in a stern stare. He was a rather frightening sight, with a thick coating of sweat and dirt. His torn and tattered shirt hung down well below his knees, obviously the former property of a much larger man. When Ziva’s eyes traveled down to the boy’s boots, she understood the sounds that had frightened her; they were far too big for his feet, and their double-clomp had coerced her into thinking there was more than one intruder and that both were very large men indeed.

Evenin’, ma’am, the boy said. My ma sent me to clean the rooms, and this here’s the last. He gave her a shy look and bowed his head to await her response. His large, bony hands clung tightly to the handles of his tools, and he seemed harmless enough.

My name is Ziva, she announced, feeling a