| Copyright © 2006, Joanne
Walpole Reviews For LIES THAT BIND by Joanne Walpole 5 angel review from FAR. ...an inspirational read that captivates...Lies That Bind is one remarkable story that shouldn't be missed. Lies that Bind is a bittersweet romance with plenty of intrigue...For those who love sensual and suspenseful historicals, this is a definite keeper. Review by Coffeetime Lies That Bind is a completely woven tale of intricate family ties, one woman's attempts to redefine her identity in the wake of war torn chaos, and a little love story. I think this book could actually be divided into two equally good books, a historical fiction and a historical romance. ~Tami Brady, TCM Reviews "I believe that Ms.Walpole has an absolute winner in this book. Even those who are not normally historical fans will enjoy this book. I encourage you to read it as soon as possible." - 4.5 Hearts, Brenda, The Romance Studio Sample Chapter For LIES
THAT BIND by Joanne Walpole
May 12. 1864—Spotsylvania, Virginia Between Cal’s knees, the gelding seemed poised, ready for the slightest command, as though he sensed the danger. When it came, the shrill yell startled them both. Cal ducked low over the coarse mane, but the accompanying bullet was too close for comfort as her hat twitched. She backed further into the trees, her eyes and ears straining against the slowly building day. Her horse snorted, stamped uneasily, and Cal’s grip tightened around the Colt in her hand. Like an apparition through the rain, the bulk of another animal came thundering into view. Cal kneed the gelding, firing off two shots before the drumming hooves of the powerful beast carried her away. Her pursuers followed. Stray shots searched for her, but two men on one rangy nag were no match for the speed of a frightened horse. The pursuers fell behind, and after a couple of miles, Cal reined in and listened. The silent dawn cast a grey hue over the scenery as she recognised the place. Another few miles and she’d be in the safety of a Union camp, if she weren’t shot for a Reb first. Wedging the Colt between her thighs, she stripped off the oversized Confederate sack coat, which concealed her identity, and flung it into the bushes lining the road. The wide strap of a heavy satchel cut painfully into her chest where it contrasted with the Federal blue coat she wore. She shifted it across her stomach, concealing her figure from prying eyes, and yanked the short collar up against the rain. Preparing to go north, she swung back onto the road as a Rebel yell rent the air. The gelding shied and she tightened her knees, fighting to stay in the saddle as she squeezed off a single shot. The approaching nag stumbled, pitched forward and crashed in a spray of mud. The man at the back lay pinned, unmoving. The front rider jumped clear, landed hard but rolled into a crouching run. Cal rode him down, bringing the horse to a rearing stop at his feet. He held his hands high, his pale, close-set eyes darting between her face and the Colt resting against her knee. “You going to kill me, boy, after everything we’ve been through?” She noticed the pistol shoved in the waist of his pants. “After everything we’ve been through you should know I’m no murderer, Flint. As long as you don’t touch that gun, we can both walk away from this.” He grinned behind his matted beard. “It sounds like a plan but you know that’s not going to happen, don’t you, boy? You took something that doesn’t belong to you and the Colonel wants it back. He’s offering seventy-five dollars Federal to the man that brings you in alive. Do you know how much that is to somebody like me who never had a pot to piss in?” “Not enough to die for. Do you think I’m worth that much?” “Hell, I don’t care. I’ll take you or the preacher, although it’s a hundred for the reverend. I don’t even know what that difference is, but I figured you’d be less trouble than your friend. After all, he’s got God on his side, though he didn’t seem too eager to meet him when I…” He snatched for his weapon but before his fingers curled around the handle a bullet lifted him clear of the ground. He landed on his back in the mud, blood staining his chest. Quickly, Cal reloaded the Colt but there was no hurry. Sliding from the saddle, she knelt beside him. The realisation of what she’d done sickened her. She leaned to one side and heaved onto the road. It was a few minutes before she could look at him again. Swallowing past the disgust and fear that brought more bitter vomit to the back of her throat, she emptied his pockets then opened the sticky folds of his coat. Nothing. Just a broken pipe and some mouldy bread. No clue as to the whereabouts or identity of the Colonel. Damn! Would she ever find a way to be free of him? She dried her tears and mounted up. At least there’d been nothing on him that belonged to John. For a split second, she considered turning south and heading back to find him. Duty stopped her. He’d trusted her to get through and deliver information that might save hundreds of lives. She owed it to him not to undermine that faith, whatever it cost her heart as she turned and headed north. * * * * “Halt! Who goes there?” Cal leaned back in the saddle and brought the horse to a skidding stop. Breathing hard, she tried to shout but couldn’t. Instead, she kneed the horse forward using the animal’s sheer size to nudge the sentry off the road as she looked repeatedly over her shoulder. He jabbed the muzzle of his rifle at her middle. “I said, who goes there. I’m warning you, I’d as soon shoot you as not if you don’t state your business.” Her heart sank and she swayed with weariness. If he decided to drag her down and beat her for insubordination, she doubted she had the strength to put up a fight. Tempted to fall unconscious in the mud to avoid his question, she eyed his big boots and reconsidered. The memory of her most recent bloody encounter fuelled her irrational terror like dry kindling. Angry with herself for wanting to give in, she sucked in a steadying breath, determined to keep calm. After all, why should she be afraid in the bosom of her own army when earlier she had escaped capture by Rebels? She squared her shoulders. “Major Simms is expecting me.” “Is that so? And what business could a scrawny kid like you have with a fine man like Major Simms? Maybe you should get down and let me have a look at you.” Pushing back her felt hat, Cal peered through the veil of drizzle separating her from the blue clad soldier and his bayonet. However unlikely, she always hoped to see a familiar face and avoid a physical search. Sometimes the men could be rough and being mauled by an overzealous soldier might be enough to tip her over the edge on this miserable morning. Unfortunately, she didn’t recognise the lanky, sunken-eyed lieutenant, and his scowl warned her not to expect any favours. “They call me, Cal. I’m carrying dispatches for the Major. I’ve got a pass.” She started to open the leather satchel slung across her shoulder but he lowered his weapon and ambled closer before she could reach inside. “I don’t need to see it. I know who you are. You took your time getting here. We expected you hours ago. What happened?” He rested his hand on her leg, setting her nerves on fire, and her fingers tightened around the reins. She couldn’t take the chance that he might see through her disguise. Common sense cautioned her not to overreact but weariness, and the need to appear as something she wasn’t, made her reckless and she knocked his arm away. “I ran into a Reb patrol. That’s all you need to know. Now, are going to let me pass or do I have to prove to you I’m not as scrawny as I look?” She moved her hand towards the Colt concealed in the folds of her oversized coat and braced herself for a backlash. Instead of yanking her from the horse, he swept off his dripping forage cap and gave her a gap-toothed smile. They stared at each other for several seconds before he broke the awkward silence. “You don’t recognise me, do you?” he asked. Cal sighed, struggling to focus through rain and fatigue as her eyes burned and the effort to keep them open blurred his features. Her mind wandered. How long had she been in Virginia? A week, or more? With patrols from both sides making it dangerous for her to rest, the days and nights had fused. Now, on the brink of exhaustion-fuelled tears, she considered telling this new tormentor to go to hell, but as the words filled her mouth, she stopped. Leaning half out of the saddle, she angled her head for a better look. Suddenly, her heart missed a beat as she glimpsed something familiar about him. She bent closer, searching beyond the straggly beard and the ingrained dirt until she found it again, an unmistakable and mischievous sparkle in his bright blue eyes. Her control crumbled as a smile crept hesitantly onto her lips. “Tom? Tom, is it really you?” |