Dream Weaver (37 page)

The dead littered the field. The wounded moaned with pain and thirst. Screaming horses rampaged through the melee, trampling the wounded.

The Indians remained in the woods but slackened their fire with approaching night. Daniel rested with the other soldiers, suffering from the heat and thirst, tortured by visions of what the morrow would bring. A premonition of doom settled over him. This time tomorrow, they might all be tied to the stake, forced to endure a slow death.

Every muscle aching, Daniel stretched out on the hard ground, his hands locked behind his head as he stared up at the vast canopy of stars. He wanted to close his eyes in sleep, but fear kept him awake. The wounded cried with pain and begged for water, but no one could reach the nearby stream to bring relief. Throughout the long night, hideous howls and taunts erupted from the dark trees, sending tremors of fright along his arms and legs.

His eyes burning from sleeplessness, Daniel saw Bouquet a short distance away. What was going through the Swiss soldier's mind...?

Sick at heart, Bouquet wrote a letter to Sir Jeffrey Amherst that night, preparing him for the worst. It looked like defeat for the British army.

* * *

On a hot day in early August, Richard climbed to the top of the Flag Bastion rampart and focused his telescope to the east. Squinting in the bright sunlight, sweating in the heat, he made a slow sweep of the tree-covered hills. Off in the distance--could it really be? Richard lowered the telescope and wiped the sweat from his forehead, then raised the instrument again. Aye, there they were! The army moved ever closer, the officers on horseback, the kilted Highlanders marching. Within a heartbeat, he heard the beating of drums and the wailing of bagpipes, the most welcome sound in the world.

"Bouquet!" Richard shouted from the rampart. "Bouquet is coming!"

Screaming with joy, the inhabitants ran to greet the British soldiers as they crossed the drawbridge and entered
Fort
Pitt
. Bouquet's army had ended the siege.

* * *

"Bouquet's a clever one, don't you think, darling?" Christian asked Gwen as she prepared for bed that same evening. "While you worked in the hospital, Lieutenant Caldwell stopped by to tell me about the battle at Bushy Run. Did you hear how Bouquet outfoxed the Indians?"

"Not all the details." Overcome with relief that Bouquet had defeated the Indians and lifted the siege of the fort, the complexities of the battle mattered little to her. Still, she didn't want to dampen Christian's enthusiasm. "How did he do it?" Gwen queried as she unhooked her dress.

"Ah, I was hoping you'd ask me." Christian changed his position in bed, stretching his legs out. "It's an old strategy, but it fooled the Indians. Bouquet made it look as if the army was retreating. Then he withdrew a couple of units, sending them to hide behind the trees. The Indians fell for the trick and rushed in, ready for the kill. Then--and here's the shrewd part--the units in reserve swept in to surround the Indians." He paused. "'Twas close fighting, I understand...bayonets."

Gwen nodded, scarcely hearing a word. She could only take in the sight of him, loving his body, every part of him, but more than that, his basic goodness and decency, his bravery during the siege. His shoulder wound looked clean, with only pink, puckered skin to show his injury a few days ago, and no sign of infection. To have him beside her, alive and well...

Gwen leaned against the wall and studied his every feature, so overwhelmed with happiness her eyes filled with tears. Acting on impulse and needing to touch him, she rushed over to the bed and sank down beside him.

"Christian, I love you so much!" Tears streamed down her face. Seeing his look of surprise, she laughed self-consciously. "Didn't mean to startle you. But I just had to say it, if I haven't told you often enough. I couldn't live without you."

"Nor I, you. My wife!" He reached for her, drawing her down to his chest.

"But are you willing to stay here with me for the rest of your life?" He threw her a questioning look.

Tears rushed to her eyes. "All I want, all I've ever wanted since I realized how much I love you, is to be with you." She plucked at the folds of her dress. "No, I'm not being entirely honest. I'll admit at first I wanted to return to my own time, but these last few weeks have taught me much," she said, "especially how much I love you. Ah, darling, I need you so much!"

Christian gave her a questioning look. "So you don't mind staying in the past?"

"Do you hear me complaining?"

"Well, no." He smiled, his gaze on her. "But it was not always thus, was it? I mean, didn't it take time for you to become accustomed to our ways?" His smile widened. "Here you are, away from computers, all the luxuries you are used to..."

"And here I am with you, Christian, happier than I've ever been."

A look of alarm crossed his face. "But what about those visions of your life in the twenty-first century? What if you get sent back to your previous life?"

"Won't happen, of that I'm certain. I haven't had any visions of that other life for a long time." She took his hand. “Believe me, Christian, this is where and when I want to stay.” She paused, looking off into space. "I had those images before because sometimes...sometimes, especially when things got rough, I'd think of my other life and the people I knew then. But I love you so much, sweetheart, and I like my life in this time. Besides, you're worth any sacrifice I have to make."

"Ah." He caressed her hand, his fingers warm and gentle. "Then we can spend the rest of our lives telling each other of our love."

She feathered his cheek and forehead with kisses. "Starting now."

Only yesterday, he'd told her of his near death experience, and she believed every word. To think he'd gone to heaven and returned to her, the same wonderful husband, the man she’d always loved--and would always love, throughout time.

The End

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Born near
Pittsburgh
, Shirley Martin attended the
University
of
Pittsburgh
. After graduating from "Pitt", she taught school for one year, then obtained a position as a flight attendant with Eastern Airlines. Based in
Miami
, she met her future husband there. After raising three sons, she devoted her time to writing, something she had always wanted to do.

With a vivid imagination and a love of storytelling, Shirley has always enjoyed writing. Her first published novel, "Destined to Love" reflects her familiarity with western
Pennsylvania
, where she hails from, and her love of romance writing. From this historical romance, she blossomed out to other romance genres. "One More Tomorrow" is a vampire romance, one her publisher dubbed "a sizzling seller". With several fantasy novels and novellas, her writing should appeal to just about every reader of romance. Her books have been sold at Amazon and most major book stores and have garnered great reviews.

A widow, Shirley lives in
Birmingham
,
Alabama
, with her two cats.

Also from Shirley Martin by Books We Love

Midnight for Morgana

Night Secrets

Night Shadows

Forbidden Love

Destined to Love

One More Tomorrow

The Princess and the Curse

The Sacrifice

NOTE FROM THE PUBLISHER:

Thank you for purchasing and reading this Books We Love eBook. We hope you have enjoyed your reading experience. Books We Love and the author would very much appreciate you returning to the online retailer where you purchased this book and leaving a review for the author.

Books We Love and Books We Love Spice

The Beverly Hills Boutique of eBook publishers.

Vintage and New from award winning authors.

Top quality books loved by readers,

Romance, Mystery, Fantasy, Young Adult

Vampires, Werewolves, Cops, Lovers.

Looking for Something Spicier

for Sexy Spicy Selections