The Loyal Heart (29 page)

Two weeks later

T
HEY HAD DONE IT
.

Miranda would no longer be receiving threatening letters. Phillip's honor and reputation were restored—some folks were even saying his name should be added to the monument on Recognition Square.

People were talking to her again, though she suspected it would take some time for Mercy to be willing to face her. She even had more reservations for guests than she had room for.

Mr. Winter was dead and Major Kelly was recovering well from his wound. Captain Monroe had left that morning.

She was going to be just fine now. Better than fine, actually. She felt like smiling all the time. At last, all the darkness that had permeated her life had lifted and she felt optimistic and grateful again. She was feeling blessed.

So yes, Miranda knew she had every reason to celebrate each day's new dawn. And she would . . . even though she was going to miss Robert terribly.

Last night after supper, he'd told her he felt it was time for him to go. Though everything inside her had wanted to beg him
to stay, she couldn't think of a single reason that would convince him. After all, he'd certainly accomplished everything he'd set out to do.

Therefore, instead of crying or attempting to cajole him to stay even one day longer, Miranda had simply nodded her head and attempted to look happy for him. This act had been important. After all, she was stronger now. She didn't want his last memory of her to be of her crying yet again.

When he came down the stairs, duffle in his hand and a determined expression on his face, Miranda prepared herself to see him off with as much grace as possible.

She needed to do this. She wanted to do it. Robert Truax had fulfilled his mission and she was grateful for his service. To expect anything more from him was selfish. And while she had a great many faults, selfishness had never been one of them.

As he set his bag on the floor near the door, she walked to his side. She was wearing a crimson dress today. It was slightly daring, but the bold color had felt right. She was ready to conquer the world—or at least Galveston, Texas—thanks to him.

“I guess you are all set?” she asked.

“I believe so.” His voice was quiet, his gaze reflective as it skimmed over her face and body. “You look beautiful today, Miranda. Fetching.”

“Thank you.” Like always, she felt every word he said all the way down to her toes. “Would you care for something to eat before you go? I know Cook would be delighted to make you something. Or even a small repast to take with you on your journey.”

“I . . . I think not.”

“Are you sure? I promise, it's no trouble. Cook, Winnie, Belle, and Emerson are almost as grateful to you as I am.”

“I'm sure, Miranda.” Shifting from one foot to the other,
he looked down at his spotlessly shined boots before staring at her again. “To be honest, taking my leave of you is going to be extremely hard. I don't know if I'm strong enough to drag it out.”

Extremely hard? Strong enough? “What . . . what do you mean?” When something lit his eyes, she hurried to explain. “I mean . . . I thought you were eager to leave.”

“I am eager to remove myself from temptation,” he blurted. The moment the words were out, he inhaled sharply, just as a fierce blush lit his skin.

Miranda couldn't recall another time she'd seen him either blush or act so ill at ease.

“I beg your pardon, ma'am,” he said, now standing tall and straight, and seeming to stare at a point directly above her head. “I didn't mean to place that burden on you.”

Unable to help herself, she reached out and pressed her hand on his arm. “I'm confused, Robert, not burdened. What, exactly, are you saying? What are you tempted by?” She was beginning to have a very good idea, but she needed to hear the words.

He pressed his lips together, as if he had been waging a private war with himself, then blurted, “You, of course.”

Her. He was tempted by her.

His words warmed her insides and caused her cheeks to flush. Happiness and hope sprang forth, and she yearned to clutch those two long-lost emotions tight to her chest.

But that didn't mean she understood what his temptation meant to him. “I'm sorry, but you said you wanted to leave.” Though it was tempting to simply let him be the one to bare his heart, she realized she was stronger now. It turned out that she, too, could be completely honest. “I wish you wouldn't, though.”

“Miranda, as much as I would hope otherwise, I fear you and I could never suit.”

And right then and there, hope and happiness vanished. “Because you feel I am too fragile,” she said, forcing herself to state the obvious. “Too weak.”

He shook his head. “Never that.” Stepping closer, he reached for the hand that was still on his arm and placed it in his own. “Miranda, I knew Phillip well. I know what kind of man he was. I know the kind of man you deserve. I am nothing like him.”

He caught her off guard. “What are you talking about?”

He looked down at his feet. “I have no formal education. I have no pedigree.” He rolled his eyes. “Sometimes I'm surprised I even have a name. I'm as far from a West Point graduate as one might get.”

She was so taken aback, she almost laughed. “Robert, I never cared about where Phillip went to school. I only cared about him.”

“Yes, well . . .” He swallowed. “There was much in Phillip Markham to care about.”

“Just as there is in you, Robert.” She squeezed his hand gently. “I know this, because I've grown to care about you too.”

Longing filled his expression before he firmly tamped it down. “Miranda, when the relief you are feeling about being free from Winter's tyranny subsides, you will realize that you are a wonderful woman with a bright future. You are beautiful. Any man would want you. And you, my dear, will get to have your choice of whom to pick. You won't have to settle for someone like me.”

“Settle for you?” she asked, incredulous. “Robert, you saved me. In more ways than one. Before you arrived, I wasn't only scared and afraid . . . I had run out of hope.” Didn't he understand what a gift he'd given her? Didn't he understand what a difference he had made in her life?

Robert closed his eyes as if even the idea of her giving up hope was painful. “I helped you, but you saved yourself.”

“Yes, but—”

“You didn't give up,” he interrupted. “You learned to trust. You fought Winter and were determined to stay alive in that wretched warehouse.”

“Actually—”

“Just as importantly, you helped me.”

“How?”

“You gave me a reason to continue living. You let a man like me believe that goodness was still present on this earth. Even after a war. Even after so many very good men died.” He lowered his voice. “Miranda, you let a man like me believe there really are people like you in this world. And for that, I will always be grateful.”

It seemed there was only one thing left to say.

“Don't leave me, Robert.”

He stepped closer, slipped one of his hands around her waist. “Miranda, I don't think you understand. The reason I'm leaving is that I cannot simply be your friend. You see, I've fallen in love with you.”

“I've fallen for you too,” she said through a smile. Hardly able to believe that she was the one who was taking the lead, she strengthened her voice. “Please, don't leave. Stay here with me. Help me.”

He smiled then. “Do you want me to remain here as your husband or your boarder?”

She laughed then. “Robert Truax, are you proposing marriage or are you waiting for me to do so?”

He flushed, then before she quite knew what was happening, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly. “I told you I don't have the words I need.”

“I think you are finding them.”

“I want you to be mine. Say you'll marry me.”

“I will, Robert.”

He smiled, then kissed her again and again, holding her close, being everything she ever needed.

It seemed that Robert Truax did a great many things well. He had been a fine soldier, an influential officer, and a brave protector. He was personable and confident. Chatty and romantic.

But a man of words he was not.

That was why, when he leaned down to kiss her again, Miranda realized that she was tired of talking.

Though words were always well and good, there were times—like the present—when they weren't even needed at all.

1. The five men at the Confederate Officer Prisoner of War camp are central characters for the entire book. What is your first impression of them?
   
2. Miranda Markham is without hope at the beginning of the novel. Is there any part of her character that you can relate to?
   
3. How do you feel about Robert Truax not telling Miranda the complete reason he is visiting? For that matter, what would you have done if you were Robert and were asked to check on Miranda? Would you have gone?
   
4. As the book progresses, it is evident that there are many people in Galveston who betrayed both Miranda and Phillip. Do you think Miranda should have left?
   
5. What is your impression of the inn's staff? What do you foresee happening with Belle?
   
6. The men at the camp have sworn their loyalty to Captain Monroe. Do you think he is worthy of their trust? Who in your life would you follow without question?
   
7. The novel focuses on the toll the war took on a handful of people in a southern Texas town. Do you think it was
   realistic? How do you think some of these same themes might be played out in the world today?
   
8. In what ways was Miranda strengthened throughout the book? Do you think she is a worthy match for Robert?
   
9. The verse from Psalm 51, “Create in me a clean heart, O God. Renew a loyal spirit within me,” is a favorite of mine. I thought it fit both Robert's and Miranda's faith journeys well. What does this scripture mean to you?
   
10. What former soldier are you most interested in reading about next?
    

Dear Readers,

Thank you for reading this book! I hope you enjoyed this first book in the
Lone Star Heroes
series and getting to know Captain Devin Monroe and his friends and comrades as much I did.

I have to share that the inspiration for this series came from my kitchen table! One evening, my husband and I were cooking together, and I told him about a discovery I had made regarding Johnson's Island. Soon, we were talking about a series based on former POWs who made promises to look after each other for the rest of their lives. I scribbled notes on old pieces of notebook paper, stuck them in a folder, then pulled them out when my editor expressed an interest years later. That is how this book began.

With that in mind, I owe many thanks to the people who helped make this novel come together so well. First, I am grateful to my husband Tom, who not only helped me plot a whole series but also traveled with me to the C.S.A. Officer Cemetery on Johnson's Island and ventured down to Galveston one hot July weekend to do research. Tom is the best. Really.

I also owe many thanks to my friend Tiffany Crona and her mother Mary Wharton, who helped me discover more research materials about Galveston Island in the 1870s. I did take a few
liberties with some of the information I discovered. Those inaccuracies are purely my own!

I'm also grateful to my agent Nicole Resciniti of The Seymour Agency. She helped make the dream of publishing this trilogy a reality. Thank you, Nicole!

I'm so appreciative of my editor for this project, Becky Philpott. Becky, thank you for chatting with me about Texas and soldiers and prisoner-of-war camps one sunny day in San Antonio. Thank you, also, for your belief in me and my writing. Every author dreams of having a champion like you.

Thank you, also, to incredible editor Jean Bloom for making this story actually follow a timeline that makes sense. You are amazing, Jean!

Finally, no note would be complete without praising God for His words, and my family, especially my brother and sister. We, like so many others, know how devastating both suicide and depression can be for loved ones. I'm so thankful for them!

With blessings and my thanks,
Shelley Shepard Gray