So Pure a Heart (Daughters of His Kingdom 4)

A flash in her mind illuminated the silhouette of a feeble thought. She blinked as she spoke to the ground. “I could do it.” She looked up, the men frozen in place.

For longer than a few breaths, they stood without moving. She cleared her throat and tried again, for the once tiny epiphany gained stature as her rising courage nourished it. “I could do it. They would not suspect a woman.”

Captain Donaldson cleared his throat, a gentle grin on his face. “Your bravery at even suggesting such a thing is admirable indeed, Miss Young. But I fear you would be engaging in something far too dangerous—”

“Forgive me, Captain, but I am not ignorant of the danger.” She straight

ened as a rod of determination slid down her spine. “I do thank you for your kind regard for my well-being, but my uncle died at their hand. He gave his life for mine. I feel I am as engaged in this war as much as any of you.”

Silence gripped the air. The men seemed unable to respond, so she continued. “I have long supported the cause of liberty, though I have not had the means or ability to be of use to it. But now I can—I must.”

Turning only his head toward her, Joseph’s bass tone teetered quietly across the space between them. “Do not, Hannah. I know your tenacious nature. I know you would wish to do this and your cause is just, but how could we—”

“Pardon me, Mr. Wythe, but you do not know me.” The gall of him. She shot a pointed gaze to each man, keeping her voice more calm than it had been seconds ago. “Tell me what must be done, and I shall do it.”

“Nay.” Joseph pivoted to face her, his voice a soft boom. “You have just escaped them. I fear your journey here has stolen your reason.”

Nathaniel stepped forward, reaching a kind hand to her arm. “We are not ignorant of the pains you have suffered, but allowing you to take such a risk is unthinkable.”

Hannah pulled her shoulders back, straining to keep a ladylike composure on the outside, despite how it evaporated within. “I thank you for your concern.” She breathed in, leveling her chin and finishing her statement with unmistakable grit. “My mind is made up. And ’tis you now who must accept my offer. For I will do it.”

Chapter Six

Anger cooked Joseph from the inside as he stared at the determined slant of Hannah’s mouth. Of course she would not listen to him. He ground his teeth. He did know her, despite what she professed. ’Twas that determined, fearless spirit that first pulled his heart toward her those many years ago. He knew everything about her—he knew that shadow of a small dimple in her cheek, that rogue curl that framed her ear, and the way her face reddened when she expressed her will to do something others professed she could not. A will he knew would not easily be swayed.

“Hannah, I would speak with you alone.” He motioned to the door of the tent.

Her dainty eyebrows lifted, and she tilted her head with her open mouth ready to gainsay him, when he grabbed her elbow. “Come.”

She pulled her arm from his hold, full lips pinched and eyebrows raised in shock. “Where are we going?”

He stopped at the door and opened it, speaking across his shoulder to the men who stared with questioning eyes. “We shall not be a moment.”

Out the door and away from his friends who certainly wished to be an audience to what would likely be a fantastic display, he marched from camp toward a line of trees where several horses were kept.

The hum of the camp now several dozen yards away, Joseph took Hannah’s arm again and pulled her around the largest horse, partly shielding them from any straying curiosity.

“You cannot do it, Hannah.”

She crossed her arms under the blanket that still covered her. “You heard them. Intelligence must be had. And who better to do it than I?”

Was she mad? “This is not for you to decide. This is a matter of war, and the risks are—”

“You think I do not understand the gravity of what has happened, what will happen?” She hugged the blanket tighter and leaned forward. “I know what is at stake. I witnessed Ensign’s death. I know they will not hesitate to kill.”

“Then you must understand why we cannot allow you to do it. ’Tis dangerous enough for one with experience in such things.”

“Joseph, I—”

“Hannah, no.” Her name felt strange and wonderful on his lips. He shifted his weight over his feet, struggling for anything that might help him at last come to fully accept where he was and with whom he spoke.

She pursed her lips, that small dimple creasing in her cheek as she looked away. Finally she returned her eyes to his, and he felt his heart tip within him. “Ensign loved this cause. If he was willing to give his life so that I could have freedom, how can I not do that for others?”

He clenched his fists to keep from taking her by the shoulders. “Your desire is virtuous indeed, but, Hannah, think. It would not be safe for you to return to a den of vipers, especially with no one to help you should something go amiss, for certainly something will.”

She looked away, her head slanting.

He paused, pressing out a heavy breath that plumed white in the frigid air. “I know you wish to help. But you have not thought it through. There are too many avenues of discovery that would make such a venture near suicide.”