Free Storm of Love - A Historical Romance Set during the American Revolutionary War by Nathaniel Burns

her desire to do so, mentally reproving the mere thought of doing such a thing.
              They walked through most of the day, exchanging conversation, whatever bits of information they wanted to share and nothing more. It was apparent to Abigail—and she was sure it was to Edward, as well—that there was much more to her story, as well as his. Both of them were playing the cards they had very close to the vest and not letting the other see too much. And why should they? He had as much reason not to trust her, she reasoned, as she had not to trust him.
              Toward the end of the day, they heard the sounds of raucous laughter, some vile jokes being thrown about, the clanking of tin, and some distant gunfire. It was finally here. She was—well, they were—finally about to reach their destination. Another few hours’ hike through the woods and they would be where they had been heading the entire time. Another fate, another life. A new page for the both of them.
              Suddenly, pangs of emotion hit her and she realized how much she cared for this man. It didn't make any sense. But somehow, she thought he felt the same way. How was it that only a day earlier she feared this man, and before that, she thought she was alone in the world, off to face her doom or her victory, she couldn't know which. And now, here, in this strange twist of—what was it? fate?—she was standing beside a man she had only known for several hours, and she felt as though she loved him.
              Whether he could read her mind or simply felt the same, she didn't know, but he stopped walking, and so did she. They both listened to the sounds of rebellion and revolution and war and didn't say a word. Finally, he put his arm around her, gently, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. She moved closer to him and put her arm around his waist. At least it was comfort. If she was wrong about him, she was wrong; it would cost her no more than being right. But she needed him.
              "Abigail," he said quietly. She looked up at him. "This is…I…" He searched for the words. "This is crazy, I know, but I…I was out here alone and running from this very thing, and then I saw you, and I knew I had to follow. I didn't know why, but…Abigail…"
              She didn't want to leave him in discomfort and confusion this time. She reached up and touched his face gently, knowing exactly what he was trying to say but not being able to find the words herself.
              "I know," she said. He took her hand in his, and before she knew what was happening, he embraced her, his powerful arms pulling her toward him, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. He was trembling.
              "I'm sorry…" he said, as though coming out of a trance, color flushing his cheeks. "I'm…I didn't…I'm sorry…"
              "Don't be," she said, meeting his gaze and touching his face again. "Don't be."
              Nothing made sense to her, but she knew it didn't matter. Nothing was going to make sense anyway. How could it? She was off to battle one moment, and now she found herself falling for a man she barely knew, willing to trust him—but who else was there to trust?
              They had decided earlier in the day to make camp one more night before hiking into the battleground. After all, they had to create their identities, and she needed to get into…character? Yes, character, or something like it. Maybe the quiet type would suit her for a disguise and her role as a man. They would decide later.
              She was still flushed from the kiss, but she wanted more of this man. If it was among her last days on earth—or even if it wasn't—she couldn't think of another person she'd rather be with. There was no one else to be with, of course, but even considering the