Emeline awoke first the next morning. It felt so strange lying next to a man. She found herself reaching for him subconsciously during the night. It must be the same for him, because he was sound asleep yet holding her hand. She was drawn to him.

That’s what soulmates do, they grow stronger together. There is an inner peace there, she heard Eve say suddenly.

There really is no privacy with you, is there?

You’re covered and I am pretty happy to get a glimpse of what you have gotten to enjoy.

Emeline glanced over and, sure enough, William’s bare body was almost completely uncovered. She looked around the room and didn’t see Eve. Feeling possessive, she leaned upwards and threw the sheet over his exposed rear end with her free hand. Her other hand, she felt him give a light squeeze as he smiled in his sleep.

He is dreaming of you right now, Eve said gently.

You know, that really is extremely creepy to be hovering where people can’t see you and snooping in our thoughts.

I kinda have to, comes with the job.

Right… the job that has no title you want to share.

Exactly. Speaking of, I know it’s not been a week but how are you feeling about your relocation?

You would ask me while I’m in bed with him, wouldn’t you? That is kinda like coaching how you want me to answer a survey. ‘Tens and yes is a passing score’, kind of thing. Ask me when we are sick from cholera, plague or whatever they catch in 1770. Oh, better yet, ask me when there is a bunch of screaming kids running around and no money.

So, you could picture yourself having children with him?

I didn’t really say that in so many words.

No, you didn’t, not in those exact terms… but don’t you think that is the natural progression of what you are doing?

Eve was right. Mind blowing, unprotected sex repeatedly with a man generally resulted in pregnancy. Staring at him, she wondered what a child would look like between them. Would it have his golden eyes or her dark ones? Would it have his beautiful smile that she saw on his face now? The idea of being his wife was starting to feel real with all it entailed. War, loss, fear were in her immediate future. But so were tenderness, protection, love and the possibility for so much more!

You don’t have to answer now.

I don’t think I can.

I know.

Being here, being by his side is easy right now.

Do you think it would feel different if it was harder? Would that change how you felt?

“I don’t know,” she whispered aloud feeling torn. She realized that Eve didn’t answer her or acknowledge her response. Instead, feeling alone by the silence, she turned to William for comfort before she realized it. Curling against his warm body felt so right and she heard his sigh of contentment.

“Yeah, me, too, big guy,” Emeline whispered, shutting her eyes to sleep after kissing his cheek. “Me, too.”

The sun was high in the sky by the time they eventually got out of bed and got dressed. They had spent the morning laughing and playing in bed. If her whole world could exist in this room alone, she would be content. Instead, there were so many necessities that would have to be dealt with. He worked hard, even if he hadn’t the last few days. It had felt like a honeymoon between them. She would need to learn how to keep house in this time period. No electricity, no running water and having to make everything from scratch seemed daunting. Other women did it, so could she.

“Shall we try finishing your tour of the city and have coffee?” William asked her, interrupting her thoughts. “This time with no traitorous discussions?”

“Absolutely,” Emeline agreed easily. “And no crazy talk or anything that will get us in trouble. I swear,” she promised, crossing her chest with a finger. Her heart gave a lurch as he took her hand and kissed the tip of it.

“Thank you,” he replied. “There will be several people there because it’s a well-known meeting place for us. I don’t want you in danger but it does have the best coffee in town. Even the Redcoats end up inside, but I think they are there to watch us. Not have coffee,” he admitted with a grin.

Nodding, she watched him tuck in his shirt and button a long vest across his chest. The dress and costume seemed so foreign to her. She could only imagine what he would think of her modern clothing! He looked damned good in anything he wore apparently. Tucking her hair back in a loose bun, she carefully tied a hat over her hair so to keep her appearance modest. Tucking a handkerchief around her shoulder like she had seen other women wearing yesterday, she glanced at her reflection in the small, hazy mirror on the armoire. She looked like she belonged.

“You look beautiful,” William said proudly, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I could not have asked for a more perfect wife.”

“Did you ask at all?” she teased.

“No,” he replied honestly. “The only thing I have asked for is the strength to fight when I have to and I believe that time is coming.”

“I know,” she admitted sadly, meeting his eyes in the reflection. “I know it is and we will all have to be strong when it happens.”

“But,” he said, spinning her around and smiling down at her. “Until then? I have the most beautiful bride to show off and if we don’t leave our room soon, I may be tempted to detain her yet again.”

“Promises, promises,” she teased, kissing him quickly.

“Promises kept, love,” he said, walking ahead of her to the stairs.

Emeline stood still, staring at his back as he descended the steep stairs she detested. He called her love? She knew Eve claimed they were soulmates but for some reason it never dawned on her that they could grow to love each other. She assumed that the term soulmate just meant they were two peas in a pod that got along. The idea of having a chance to be a part of an all-consuming love, like what you read in the romance novels or see in the movies, was entirely humbling.

“Emeline, are you coming?” he asked, looking over his shoulder with a smile. “I will never let you fall. I promise, if you fall I will catch you on the way down.”

Nodding, she stepped down the stairs awkwardly. She moved down them one at a time, sideways and clutching the bannister. It threw her for a loop each time and she saw him grinning at her exaggerated movements.

“The stupid stairs are too tall, okay? Each riser comes up to my knee and I am a tall woman!” she defended, laughing at his upraised eyebrow. She watched as he walked over to the stairs and held out his arms towards her. Glancing down, she saw she had three steps still to go before she was on the ground. Laughing at his expression, she willingly leaned forward as he picked her up off the steps.

“You’ll forever keep me on my toes, won’t you?” he asked tenderly, pulling her against him in a hug as he held her aloft. She felt perfectly content to come down the horrible stairs just like this every single day.

“It seems that way. Tell you what,” she said with a wide smile. “How about we work together on them? You cut the wood and I will hammer it into place.” It was only fair of her to help if she was having issues with something he had already built to his own specifications. She couldn’t help that she was so much shorter than he was.

He let his arms slip as he started laughing. “Ah Emeline, you are full of teasing, my love. I would never ask you to hammer something.”

“I could do it,” she challenged.

“I don’t doubt you could do anything you put your mind to,” he amended quickly.

“I know you old-fashioned men think that women can’t do manual labor, but listen now and learn fast. I can do almost anything you can,” she said hotly, pulling out of his arms.

He grabbed her quickly, understanding that she was angry. Emeline let herself be pulled into his embrace, crushing her hat against him. “You’ll mess my hair!”

“You’ll still be beautiful to me. Emeline, I never meant it as an insult. You are always surprising me,” he admitted. “I hope, someday, that I can return the favor and give you as much happiness as you have brought me.”

Somewhat mollified, she nodded and smiled up at him. You sap! He coos and you melt right away in his arms. He quickly donned a holster over his head and tucked a gun by his side that was hidden by his cloak. She watched him and stood still as he tied another cloak around her shoulders as well.

Leaving the house, they walked hand in hand for some ways. William stopped and smiled at people he met on the street. He seemed to know everyone in town or they knew him. While his smile would falter as he saw a soldier, it would reappear when he shook hands with a fellow townsperson. Each time, she was introduced as his wife proudly. It was different not going to a church or justice of the peace, but this seemed to be the way it was done here. Arriving at the coffeehouse he favored, she could see why.

Large paned windows made the interior feel open and warm. Several tables were ringed with wooden chairs with a healthy distance between them, giving the opportunity for discussions to be private instead of overheard. The heady aroma of coffee grounds as well as vanilla and cinnamon practically made her mouth water as she instantly thought of a Frappuccino from Starbucks. She could only hope this was half as good because it certainly wouldn’t be frozen or slushy unless they used snow. Yuck!

Looking around, she saw one of the larger tables at the back was already occupied by Samuel Adams and several other men. He must have seen William because he waved them over to join them. William introduced her yet again and she kept her head bowed demurely as to keep from meeting Samuel and Benjamin’s knowing expressions.

“William, your bride may sit here while you fetch her a refreshment,” Samuel said firmly. Emeline nodded in agreement and smiled hesitantly at William. He glanced between the two of them and moved to get several cups of coffee.

“Mrs. Spencer, how have you been?” Samuel asked politely.

“Very well, Mr. Adams. Thank you,” she replied in the same tone and folded her hands in her lap, looking down sedately.

“Glad to hear it,” he said simply as if her actions were correct. “Now gentleman, as I was saying…” he continued easily discussing the buck he had brought down last week on his land.

I guess this is what people do nowadays. Listen to each other brag about the size of the deer they hunted or how much they had to drink. She saw that several men in the room had pipes hanging from their mouths and almost grinned at the fact that they were smoking inside the building. That would be against the law back home!

Seeing William return with his arms full, she moved to help him. He had grabbed cups for everyone, having them hooked carefully on one hand and the pot of coffee in the other. He must have approved at her silent offer to help, because he gave her the most heartwarming smile as she took the cups. Emeline jumped as the other men at the table banged on it in hearty approval. Nodding shyly, she placed the cups down and offered to pour. Their surprised looks told her that it was expected of her to pour and serve the coffee. Humph!

Taking the tall, elongated, silver coffeepot in her hands, she placed a finger carefully on the top to keep it steady as she poured. It was odd yet sophisticated to see it poured like this instead of using a glass carafe or insulated thermos. The arch of the spout gave a high arch of coffee that she had to be careful with so she didn’t spill. She served each of the men first and poured her own coffee last. Taking her seat, she leaned in to whisper a thank you to William. He patted her knee in response as he picked up the conversation regarding deer hunting.

They were telling tall tales. Only, instead of the fish being over a foot long, The men were comparing their hunting skills. Imagine if they were jocks? They would probably whip out their privates and measure them to see whose was the biggest! she mused comically and nearly choked.

She was trying to be cultured and delicate. But as she took a sip, she found that the coffee was nothing like it had been back home and choked on the strong drink. There, it was smooth and apparently very weak. Here, it was extremely bitter and scalding hot. Several handkerchiefs were held in her direction as William patted her on the back. Accepting one gratefully, she covered her mouth and regained her breath.

“My apologies,” she rasped.

“Is the coffee too strong? Would you prefer a weak tea?” she was asked by the gentleman that had offered her the handkerchief.

“Mercy, no,” she declined quickly. “I can’t stand the stuff. I prefer a strong coffee every morning. Weak tea? It’s for children.” They must have found it uproariously funny because she suddenly fit in at the table. There were several nods of approval and the guarded looks in their eyes disappeared. Emeline was asked if she had ever been hunting with her father or William, because a lady wasn’t expected to go alone or bag a deer herself. That was okay because the idea of field dressing your kill made her stomach want to turn.

Thinking of the least offensive, sexist comment that they might expect to hear, she smiled sweetly and replied, “No, hunting is for strong men. I am better served if I take care of my husband’s home and hearth. Someday, we’ll have a family that I will need to nurture and raise.” Gag! Talk about laying it on thick! she considered, imagining that women’s rights activists were rolling over in their graves right now. This seemed to appease the men as they cheered William’s good fortune in his new wife. William looked at her oddly, as if he knew she was being sarcastic. Emeline patted him on the knee this time, causing him to jump at the display of affection.

Sitting silently, she looked around the room and watched the people that gathered. Several men and women frequented the shop. She saw some Redcoats loitering outside and a few inside simply hovering, keeping watch. It was eerie to be watched by a military faction night and day. She couldn’t imagine what a strain it must put on the people to have this go on for years and years. No wonder tensions were high!

A dark loaf of bread was brought over with a massive knife sticking out of the middle. Taking it as her cue, she stood and sliced it; serving each man, William being the first. She could see why he enjoyed visiting the coffeehouse. Warm food, warm drink and companionship. That might be hard to come by during inclement weather, which had thankfully passed them by so far!

After a while, William stood and held out his hand towards her. “I believe we will take our leave, gentleman. Adams, I shall see you soon,” he said pointedly, garnering a nod from him in return. They had business to attend to and it had nothing to do with a sale. They would be working together regarding the uprising. It was apparent that the table might have been full of other rebellious folks because they all beat on the table in approval, causing William to smile.

Emeline placed her hand on his arm of her own accord. It was no longer prompted or placed there by William. The movement felt right. He felt right. It was comforting to know he was there and literally had her back. Heading out together onto the street, they walked some ways until she could see water in the distance. As they neared, she stared at the massive, lumbering ships that swayed in the water. Boston Harbor. It was breathtaking to see the masts, flags, ships and activity around the water.

“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?”

“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?

No, but you know you could have said something like ‘hey, I can drown you now or shoot you later’. Your choice on how you kick it into the afterlife!

Well, I didn’t know that you were going to get shot.

You just told me I was supposed to!

Did I? Weird. Guess I should have warned you.

Emeline’s jaw dropped open at the circular way Eve’s mind worked. Are you nuts?

No, just really busy with a hectic schedule. Even the rich and famous get misplaced sometimes and I just pick them up, she said with an exaggerated pinch, and plop them down where they are supposed to be.

Wow. Just wow.

I am pretty impressive, Eve said, preening.

You are something all right, Emeline agreed.

You still need me? she asked and then poofed into nothingness. The wood dropped backwards and flattened instantly like a stretched rubber band being snapped. The knotholes she had for eyes had obviously been manipulated, because they were no longer present.

I guess not, she thought with a sigh as she watched William from a distance.

Dr. Warren was polite and offered to have them rest in his home until William was ready and able to leave. Emeline did not want to stay in the dank home that the doctor had. It was obvious he was not here much and did not spend time cleaning. She wanted to be in their home that was warm and inviting – and clean!

“Samuel, can you use a wagon to get William home and then smuggle the guns back out?” Emeline asked carefully. She didn’t know how they would react to a woman giving a suggestion in this time period.

“Yes!”

“No!”

Both exclaimed quickly. Samuel looked pleased at the devious thought whereas William looked downright horrified by the suggestion.

“Emeline, they will be watching everyone and we can’t take that chance,” he argued.

“I don’t think you will have much of a choice,” Sam countered. “You’ve been here several hours already and there is already movement. Soldiers are going in and out of the houses. I just hope the guns are hidden well or you might not have to worry about that wound.”

“They are under the planks of the floor,” William said with a resigned sigh.

“So, if they go into the cellar, they cannot look up and see them?”

“No, I built shelving up to the joists and made a hidden compartment. I used old wood so it looked original. I didn’t want to raise any suspicions,” he said with a tired, sly smile.

“When we load up the rifles, let’s do it late in the evening. We’ll make sure that they are covered with blankets or furniture.”

“Emeline, there is no ‘we’ on this. I will not have you participating if we are caught,” William countered firmly. “It’s a brilliant idea, and I thank you for it - but you will not be helping.”

“Fine, you two strong, healthy men lift up those guns out of the floor, quickly,” she stressed, “And I will keep a lookout.”

“Three men,” Dr. Warren chimed in. “And that sounds like a good idea to me.”

“Do not encourage her,” William bit out. “She is a headstrong woman.”

“Aye, she is,” Dr. Warren agreed appreciatively, patting William on the leg. “You are a blessed man.”

“Yes, I am,” he said aloud, meeting Emeline’s eyes. She smiled widely, knowing that the idea of a woman helping them stuck in his old-fashioned craw. If she was to be a part of his life, in this time line, then she would be a part of the fight in some fashion or another. There would be no waiting idly at home for her, no. She would introduce him to how she thought their marriage should be.

A partnership.