“Order! Order!” William Spencer heard shouted outside of his storefront. He spent hours on end trying to focus on creating and building beautiful, functional pieces of furniture that appealed to the eye. Each piece was carved with a lion’s foot or a crown simply to show he was loyal.

Boston had been a growing city before they came. The infernal British soldiers that bullied the people left and right. He had to make sure that his cabinets and other furniture pieces were presented as harmless to the Crown if ever inspected or questioned.

There would be enough eyebrows raised, and potentially a rope to stretch his neck, if they found the stash of gunstocks he was making on the sly. The people of town wanted to arm themselves and were afraid.

Hell, he was concerned!

He prayed every night that when the time was right he would be strong enough to fight for what was in his heart. A righteous cause would always prevail! He was strong, honorable and willing to fight. That much, he felt he could give back to the city. He knew that his friend down the road was considering opening a mill to produce gunpowder. Paul was a calm man with a deep sense of honor. He didn’t back down from a fight, but also would not provoke it. Sam had asked him to make the wooden rifle stocks and he felt honored after sitting in for many a discussion on the wrongs that were being levied against his fellow Bostonians. The next batch of rifle stocks would be ready to pick up under the cover of darkness anytime during the next several days.

Boston was alive with hatred between the colonists and the soldiers. They had arrived to put down any disrespect or perceived disloyalty towards king and country. These soldiers were everywhere, it seemed. In the streets, in the taverns, and inspecting homes harassing the populace. It was irritating to say the least! William wasn’t a “rebel” per se, but with a strong feeling for what is right, it could certainly be taken that he was. They were supposed to be British citizens and loyal to the king.

There was no cause before to lash out at the people or to be cruel. Troops were given free rein to invade homes, search businesses. This was simply inciting anger, giving the colonists a reason to arm themselves or smuggle in goods. The taxes that were imposed on tea coming into the colonies were disheartening, making it nearly impossible to purchase it through the right channels! Hence the smuggling and the searches. The soldiers knew it and were trying to catch people at every turn. One of the leaders in town, a profitable merchant known as John Hancock had his ships seized under the allegation that he was smuggling. The charges were dropped, but the memory would not fade. They had tried to take down one of their own, a fellow citizen, for trying to run his business. That is when Sam had turned to him, asking him to aid in arming the city.

Lost in thought, William heard the scuffle coming closer and closer to his storefront. Carefully, he hid the wooden rifle stock behind his legs as he backed away from the doorway. Crouching down, he pulled back the rag rug and yanked up the loose floorboards. He slipped it inside quickly, nestled among dozens of others. He was certain he would hang as a traitor if they found him aiding the uprising.

Being hung before his new bride arrived would be quite the irony. He hadn’t been expecting one, yet William had felt compelled to accept when the unexpected offer was made. It was as if his heart had lurched forward with the announcement that he would marry when the strange woman appeared at his door a week ago. She claimed to be waiting on the arrival of someone special, someone he couldn’t do without. It seemed an odd description. However, the dowry she’d presented had been worth it.

He had never seen woodcarving tools like the ones she’d placed in front of him. Massive scrapers, awls, planes and chisels of the strangest metal he had ever seen. Recognizing their value, he examined them carefully, trying to determine what they were made from. Each handle had a weird texture that seemed to hold fast as he tested one on a random block of wood. They also had strange, orange markings on them. Fascinating! The tools had tempted him beyond belief. But just when he was getting ready to turn the dark-haired woman away, she had looked him square in the eye as if she was reaching into his mind and said the words that shook him to the core.

“Emeline is special. She needs you. The people here need help. You are righteous. She will need your protection. Let her give you a reason to fight,” she said quietly, staring at him. Her dark eyes burned with a deep fire that gave him a chill. She leaned over the counter, not breaking eye contact as she placed a few gold coins on the black box that held the tools as if to sweeten the deal.

He stared at her, his heart racing. It was as if she had sifted through his mind, shocking him at the intrusion. She knew he was aiding the rebels! And as quickly as she spoke, the woman backed away with a knowing smile. “You need a wife and it’s high time you took one. Samuel Adams said you’d protect her.”

“Who are you?”

“A friend,” Eve answered simply. “I will bring Emeline to you soon for the handfasting. Isn’t that what you do nowadays? Common law, a church wedding, handfasting? Whatever,” she waved her hand. “Think about it, take your time. You’ll do the right thing when needed and when you meet her. I have no doubts.”

The strange woman’s words echoed in his mind for days on end. William was constantly looking over his shoulder expecting the eerie, dark-haired woman to suddenly appear again. This time with another female in tow. He knew that people married all the time for different reasons. To continue the family line, for love, to keep warm in the winter – or at least that is what his father had once claimed with an affectionate smile to his mother. It seemed more important to learn his trade, become independent and establish himself in the community rather than marry quickly. Now, he hated to endanger a young lady by his actions. The dowry she gave him was amazing, her offer to have a woman warm his bed tempting, but now was not the right time. He would return the tools and gold when he saw her again.

Cramming as many rifle stocks as he could in the floorboard of his home, he awaited the arrival of the dark-haired woman… or the British, if she betrayed him – or even the arrival of Sam Adams so the man could pick up the weapons and get them away from his home. It made him antsy to hear the soldiers in the streets. It was getting dark out and he knew that if Sam did come, it would be at night where their acts would be hidden from prying eyes.

As if by magic, William heard a faint rapping at the side door of his home that was also his workshop. Opening the door, he saw Sam’s broad grin as his friend stepped inside.

“I thought you were never coming,” William whispered quietly as he shut the door.

“I had to wait until the soldiers were gone,” Sam answered tartly. “Can really load guns without it raising any questions, now can I?”

“True” he admitted, relieved. They clapped each other on the back good-naturedly. “The sooner these are out of my home, the better I shall feel. Damned lobsterbacks! I wish they’d leave. They’ve been up and down the street all day long.”

“You don’t say?”

“Aye, and its wearing on my nerves.”

“You do look a bit frazzled.”

“I am,” he admitted. “It’s been a very odd week, my friend.”

Just then, the two men heard a knock at the door. Looking at each other, William watched Sam pull a flintlock from his pants. Holding the gun up towards his face, he motioned towards William to open the door as he backed against the wall of the house. Slowly opening the door, he saw the odd, dark-haired woman outside with another woman garbed in a demure dress.

“Surprise! Is now a bad time?” Eve asked with a bright, knowing smile.

Shocked by her appearance, it took Will a full moment to answer. He stared dumfounded at the bad timing that their arrival was. He had been told to expect her return, but never assumed it would be just at the most inopportune moment. “Actually, yes, it is.”

“Well, your bride will need a roof over her head and it’s cold out here,” Eve announced point blank. “Don’t stare at me, young man. I gave you plenty of notice that I was bringing her. It’s not our problem if you aren’t prepared. You would not want the Redcoats to investigate why two women are alone out here in the dark, would you?”

The tall woman that stood behind Eve in the darkness barely moved, but her voice was sweet and clear, with the strangest accent. “I won’t be taking charity from a man that doesn’t want me. I have been on my own before. This is nothing new, Eve. Let’s go.”

As she spoke, he heard the patrol coming. “Now is not the time to discuss this, ladies.”

“I think it’s the perfect time,” Eve countered slyly, staring at him in a silent challenge. “Did you want to invite us in or shall we leave? Have you made up your mind yet, William?”

“I think, perhaps, you need to come in where you can quit drawing attention,” William whispered and reached out the door to take Eve’s hand. Surprisingly, she would not accept his hand, but stood there smiling with a satisfied smile.

“I like that,” she said, seemingly amused. “Offering to help a lady is a sweet touch nowadays. You rarely find that in a man back home. Am I correct, Emeline?”

“Both of you, be silent,” Sam ordered and leaned forward, “Ladies? If you will be so kind?”

Eve stepped inside the house, followed by Emeline. It was odd seeing a house with no adornments on the exterior, or at least what she could tell in the darkness. The homes of Boston were simply flat and basic in design but, then again, so were the clothes. They were created for function and they did just that.

The house looked quite unassuming from the outside in the darkness but once she stepped inside, it truly revealed itself. Warm glows from the lamps around the room illuminated scrollwork carved in the door frame. The scent of beeswax, fresh cut wood and smoke made her feel downright cozy. The scents welcomed her, like she had just stepped inside a candle store in a mall. The house was clean, save the wood shavings that were scattered underneath a large table giving it the delicious, earthy smell. Several timeless, handcrafted rocking chairs were in the corner as well as several other pieces of furniture. The detail in the work was evident. Each piece seemed to have delicate carvings all over them or were in the process of being decorated.

Emeline pulled off the bonnet that Eve had instructed her to tie onto her head and breathed a sigh of relief at the warm heat emanating from the fireplace. She had not been able to warm up since her stint in the ocean, and she particularly felt like that was Eve’s fault. Being close to death felt so cold. Frankly, if she was honest with herself, she had actually died. Now, she felt alive, but colder than she had ever been. It was darned chilly outside and the wind seemed to cut right through the abundant materials layered in her dress.

As the young woman removed her hat covering her head, William caught his breath. She was stunning. Her dark brown hair fell around her head in waves that reached her shoulders, in a highly unusual fashion. Women typically wore their hair upwards in some sort of chignon to keep it neat, but she seemed to glow in the shaggy style that was accentuated by the lamplight. Her lips were full, almost overpowering her face but curved in such a fashion that made him wonder what she looked like when she smiled. Right now, she looked wary, almost scared and it bothered him. He found himself feeling very protective of her. Her dark eyes looked like bottomless caverns that he found himself wanting to fall inside of. Brown, they are brown, he confirmed, shaking his head. She was definitely eye-catching to look upon… and potentially his, if he chose. I wonder why she isn’t married yet? he mused.

“What are you staring at, buddy?” Emeline asked pointedly. She could feel her cheeks get hot at the unwanted attention. The flush of warmth was almost welcoming. She swore she could have swallowed her tongue as the dark-haired man gave a knowing smile.

“Well that answered my question,” he said suddenly, looking like he was ready to laugh.

“You didn’t ask one,” she retorted.

“Emeline, shut your pie hole before you run him off,” Eve suddenly interrupted, looking irritated at the interaction between the two. “Why does it always have to be a fight up front? This is the part of the introductions I simply will never understand! It’s never ‘meet and fall in love’. Nooooooo, it has to be whine and complain. What part did you not understand, Emeline? Look at him or touch him! Let’s get the boom-shaka-laka going now!”

“Fight against what? Complain? You drow…” Emeline asked and was abruptly cut off. She jumped when there was a loud knock on the door moments before it opened of its own accord. It was like a really bad movie come to life. Large, angry men poured into the room wearing red woolen coats and white pants. Each powdered head was covered with a black tricorn hat and each set of arms carried a gun. The rank smell from their unwashed bodies drove out the warm smell of freshly shaved woodchips and beeswax polish. The scent was overwhelmingly sour and made her want to gag.

“Whoa,” she whispered. Not sure which was worse: the stench of body odor from the group of soldiers or the threatening cloud that suddenly hung over them. She was aghast at being surrounded by so many large men in uniform with guns. They filled the large room with their number and it was quite intimidating.

“Hush child, or you won’t have a chance this lifetime either to be paired up with your person,” Eve snapped.

“You aren’t making jackshi-” she tried to whisper as Eve suddenly silenced her. Her jaws moved silently as she tried to talk.

“My apologies, good sirs,” Eve said, dipping into a curtsey and dragging Emeline awkwardly down with her. Eve’s arm pinched hers mightily through the fabric. She would have sworn that the woman had pincers instead of fingers at how painful the twist was.

What is going on?

You need to shut your mouth before you get yourself killed and me shot. I won’t die but it will hurt all the same. But you? You will keel over again. I’m pretty sure that the drowning hurt, right? Just think how a musket blast at close range will feel.

I’m shutting up now.

Finally! Now, let the men speak and listen to me carefully. American Revolution, remember? These guys are the bad guys. Redcoats. They hate colonials, which means you are now included in that group. They want to smoosh any uprising against the king. So if they ask you, play dumb, well… play dumber than you are and finish your sentence with “God Bless King George” – got it? Eve said abruptly, inside Emeline’s head, giving a syrupy smile to what appeared to be the leader.

“How may I help you this evening, Sir?” Emeline heard the handsome, dark-haired man ask easily. “My home is yours,” he said formally with a flat tone. He doesn’t mean it, she thought, surprised.

“We heard that there were traitors afoot and heard the commotion outside,” a soldier with a massive powdered wig announced as he stepped forward. The man had a coldness to his expression that looked like he couldn’t care less if they lived or died. It was unnerving to be looked at like they had just all been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. As far as she knew, nothing was afoot unless she and Eve had interrupted something.

Hush yourself and don’t say a word aloud, Eve cut in silently. Try not to look guilty, either! Your face looks like you are hiding something. Try to look meek, if you can.

I don’t plan on getting myself “offed” again today, thank you. Once is enough for me! FYI? It hurt like the dickens! Emeline snapped silently.

Good girl, you are watching your mouth. I like that you are a quick learner, Eve said happily. Remember, you can use butter beans, too. Dickens is nice, but it doesn’t quite roll off the tongue.

You are weird.

Unique.

Weird, Emeline repeated bluntly.

Tomato, tomato. Just because it’s strange doesn’t mean it’s wrong or weird. You should be a bit more flexible, little titmouse.

“I was preparing to have a drink with my friend when my intended appeared at the doorway unexpectedly. I was pleasantly surprised to say the least,” she heard him say smoothly towards the captain.

Intended? This guy? Emeline asked silently as she kept her head bowed down. Her legs were cramping painfully as they held their curtseys while the men made small talk. She didn’t want to move first and was following Eve’s motions.

Yes. The carpenter’s dream, remember? He is your guy, Eve said happily inside Emeline’s head. She could practically hear the glee internally and had a mental picture flashing with fireworks.

I thought you were making another boob joke.

Well, I was but I was also serious, too. He is a well-known carpenter in Boston. His name is William Spencer.

I thought we were following the other guy? Emeline asked confused, trying to get a better look at her intended from the corner of her eye.

We were, but that was only to get us here.

So, who’s he? He looks angry!

Both of them are! William is just hiding it a bit better than he is. The other guy is Samuel Adams.

Like the beer?

No, like one of the revolutionary leaders… and yes, the beer. You aren’t an alcoholic, are you? Cause I sure didn’t pick that up when I read your mind.

Wow. Mind reading, too? You are one busy freakazoid, you know that, Eve? Okay, big history lesson in the making. I got it. Emeline teased lightly. She was growing accustomed to them being able to chat silently between themselves. It was like having a big sister with you. Unfortunately, she was a deadly big sister with a homicidal mean streak combined with some freaky special effects.

They are awesome to behold, too! Eve chimed in silently. Now, I will let you speak because the big, mean-looking soldier is fixing to ask you a few questions. Don’t screw this up, Titmouse. Remember? God Bless King George.

“Mistress,” the largest soldier near Emeline suddenly addressed her. “Why are you out so late? Are this man’s words true?”

“I was travelling to him,” Emeline said nervously. “God Bless King George!”

“God Bless the king!” the Redcoats quickly chanted and Emeline saw that her words were not received too kindly by Samuel Adams and William Spencer. They looked at each other and repeated it carefully in the presence of the soldiers. She could see the barely veiled hostility in Samuel’s eyes directed towards her.

“I was delivering my niece to her intended, Mr. Spencer. My horse went lame and we had to walk the rest of the distance. Our guide remained with the horse just outside of town,” Eve said smoothly, cutting off anything else that Emeline might have said.

“We appreciate your compliance. Let us know if you see or hear anything in the area,” the large soldier said before bowing towards Emeline and Eve. They quickly filed out of the house into the darkness of the street.

Emeline watched as William closed the door behind them and set the bar across the expanse of wood. Turning, he put his finger on his lips indicating that they should be quiet still. Walking towards Sam, he announced loudly. “Welcome! Come share a drink with us, friend. We were just about to toast the king. God save the king!” he said loudly and picked up two empty tankards on the table and clanked them together loudly. Emeline heard Sam quickly repeat, “God save the king,” and both she and Eve joined in.

Emeline wasn’t stupid. They were faking it. It was all an attempt to try to discourage the soldiers from lingering around or investigating. She’d seen things like this on television repeatedly and knew that someone would be hanging around a lot longer if they were under suspicion.

Greeeeeaaaaat.

She saw Sam take a seat at the table and was surprised to see William come towards her, pulling forward a delicately-carved chair. Politely, he gave a quick bow and held out his hand, indicating that she should have a seat. That was a nice touch, she thought. Emeline hadn’t had a man pull out a seat for her in years and it caught her by surprise.

Nodding silently, she sat in the chair expecting it to be a little rickety but was surprised at how sturdy the chair actually was. Several canes comprised the back and sides. Each cane had been carved with ivy and flowers. It was a work of art that should be in a museum but, instead, she was having the chance to sit in it brand spanking new!

Taking a hint, she saw Eve was given another chair. Not as pretty, she thought suddenly and then silenced her thoughts as she saw Eve glance at her with a knowing grin. They all sat silently as William filled the four tankards with what looked to be beer or ale.

Medieval Times, eat your heart out! Emeline thought quietly, as she was handed the large pewter mug. The frothy ale smelled bitter and she prayed it was palatable. Taking a sip, she almost cooed at how smooth the fermented brew was. While it smelled bitter, it was surprisingly light with barely any aftertaste. The hops smell made her recall a taproom back home that she had frequented for its amazing take-out pizza. No pizza would ever be found here, but the brew was nice and reminded her of home.

Revolutionary War, remember? Does nothing stick with you, Titmouse? Eve admonished with a long, drawn out groan.

Quit calling me that. And yes, it does stick. Sheesh! Medieval Times is a restaurant. Don’t you get out? Emeline quipped silently, a bit surprised that she hadn’t heard of the infamous place. Jousts, horses, swords, eating food with your fingers? It’s not ringing any bells?

Not really. I stay pretty busy with my pet projects, Eve sent with a knowing smirk over the top of her mug. It’s like herding kittens, figuring out how to keep you on the straight and narrow.

You should get out more, Emeline chastised. How else do you plan on talking to your “pet projects” if you can’t relate to us?

I’m busy.

Funny that you should say that. I have found that if you are too busy to relax, then you have a mental breakdown. End up taking a vacation that results in you getting killed by some psycho voodoo priestess. Anything sounding familiar?

Now, that’s some funny stuff right there… voodoo priestess? Nah! Eve grinned. But I know one, want to meet her?

No, Emeline denied. I’m good. So, what are you?

Are we back to that?

Kinda. I’m curious.

You need to be curious about him, not me. I am leaving you shortly.

WHAT? Emeline practically yelled mentally as she choked on her ale. Covering her mouth delicately, she coughed and caught her breath. What do you mean you are leaving? You can’t leave me here with this guy! I don’t even know him. For that matter, I don’t know anyone here at all!

You don’t need me hanging around playing matchmaker. You need to get to know him and it will be easy. He is already interested in you.

He is?

You got the pretty chair, didn’t you? Eve said smugly, throwing her own words back at her. And lookie there, he is staring at you now.

Emeline looked away from Eve and found William’s dark eyes watching her.

He looks angry. Is he angry at me? You said you had paired me up with some fuddy-duddy fop. I was joking about the chair, by the way. He is too darned pretty to be a manly kinda guy.

No, he’s not angry at you in the slightest. He is frustrated that he really can’t ask what he wants to right now because of Adams, myself and the Redcoats. He is a very private man and there is too much company in the room right now.

“Think they are gone?” Samuel finally whispered, breaking the silence. He took a sip of his drink.

“I’m not sure but we shall have to meet again soon. Not tonight, Sam,” William told him firmly with a direct look.

“Another night then,” he agreed.

It might as well be like we aren’t here, Emeline thought.

Different time period. Plus, they don’t know if they can trust you. By the way, I may have fibbed a bit.

What do you mean?

I said that Samuel Adams approved of you. Meh, a little white lie, Eve admitted with a shrug. Emeline’s jaw dropped as she realized that she was not only being left here alone but in the middle of a blatant lie that she was bound to get caught in.

I suggest you play it off as some other Samuel Adams. I’m sure he isn’t the only one. How many Samuels, Georges, Benjamins and other names are there now? It’s not like modern times where everything is spelled differently. They name children after heroes, family or biblical names.

Gotcha, get to know this guy but lie to him. That sounds like a fantastic start to a marriage with a stranger! Gee, thanks!

No, you misunderstood what I said. Get to know him, yes. I lied to him, not you.

Gotcha. Eve, the paranormal liar and lady killer. That is one heck of a title, Ma’am, Emeline quipped sarcastically. She couldn’t decide if she should be upset that she was stuck knee-deep in a lie, relieved that she wasn’t dead or thankful that her intended (if she was stuck marrying him) was gorgeous to look at.

Are you trying to piss me off? I should be mad, but that does have a nice ring to it though. I could get some business cards made and put that on there, Eve said with an approving smile.

He is mighty purdy, Emeline. I picked a good one for you.

Nope. Thought we were becoming friends and I could be myself, she said with a silent salute, holding her cup aloft as she stole a glance at William again. She found his gaze kept landing on her as he spoke quietly to the other man.

If that is your personality, you might put a sock in it, Titmouse. You will get farther with honey than vinegar.

Yes, Ma’am.

That’s much better.

They drank silently as they waited. Emeline could tell Samuel was ready to head out at the first opportunity and she wondered how Eve planned on making her exit. That would leave her alone with a man she didn’t know. That was freaking scary and she hoped that the bitter drink would alleviate some of her anxiety.

She had no other viable options anymore. Her choices had been taken away. While she should be mad, she found herself increasingly optimistic about the entire situation. She had wanted a fresh start before, why not start now? What were arranged marriages like in 1770? Would she get to know the fellow before they married in a church or what? Could she get out of it if she needed to?

Give it a week, Titmouse, and see what you think of him before you decide.

What if we don’t suit? You said I have a purpose here. What happens if I decide that I don’t wanna be purposeful and I want to go home? Is that even an option?

If you return, it will be to the ocean. If you don’t play your part then history will be changed. The future will be changed.

So, this is big?

For you and Mr. Spencer? Absolutely.

I’m a little nervous, she admitted trying to play down the hysteria she felt bubbling up inside of her. She was about to get abandoned. And now the future depended on her staying? Taking a big drink of the beer, she prayed that her nerves would let up quickly.

You’re scared, little titmouse. Don’t be. He is a good man and perfect for you. I promise.

You’ll understand if I have trust issues with the person who drowned me, right? Emeline watched as Eve began to choke suddenly as she muffled a laugh. Emeline patted Eve on the back, surprised she actually made contact and her hand didn’t disappear. How does it feel to have some fluid in your little mysterious lungs this time around?

You’ve got a mouth on you, Titmouse. If he isn’t what you want, say the word and I will take you back. You’ve my word.

Trust issues, remember? Take me back to the sharks? Emeline repeated with an upraised eyebrow that made Eve grin.

You’ll have to trust me. Now, it’s time to rip the Band-Aid off, my girl! Eve retorted simply and stood. “Mr. Spencer, I appreciate the generous drink you have kindly shared, but I think it’s time for me to take my leave this evening.”

“Milady, I’m not certain that the soldiers have left yet,” William said politely. He surged to his feet, as propriety dictated that he escort his guest to the door or stand when a woman stood. She was quick though, as Eve darted towards the door. She raised the crossbar like it was weightless and set it aside.

“Samuel, prepare yourself to disembark. I’m counting on the soldier waiting nearby,” Eve said firmly as she swung open the heavy wooden door. Sure enough, a Redcoat soldier stood beside the door waiting. “My good man! Would you be a dear and walk me to the Green Dragon Tavern? I have rooms waiting for me nearby.”

Samuel and William grinned knowingly at each other. Emeline stared at the blatant ruse Eve used to drag the soldier from the building so Samuel could make his way unnoticed from William Spencer’s home. As quickly as Eve left, Samuel Adams turned to Emeline and tipped his hat politely. He then followed Eve out the door as well, William shutting it firmly behind the man and setting the bar across the door once again, effectively locking them inside.

Alone.