Historical Fiction Finalist:The 2016 Awards from AwardsForStories.
In 1863 on the tiny island of Key West, Yankee spy Aaron Matthews must find and eliminate a deadly Rebel saboteur whom he fears just may be the woman he loves.
VIDEO: 1860 Army Colt Revolver of the type issued to Yankee officers, like Lt. Aaron "Matthews."
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Last night Aaron and Josephine Marie fell asleep in the Thibodeauxs' parlor during a lightning storm. This morning, Aaron will be brought up short by the young lady's formidable mother! Oops!
Video below: Boca Chica island today, home of US Naval Station. The sound is a Navy jet overhead.
~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~
Dawn on nearby Boca Chica island was amazingly calm after the storm of the previous night.
Diamonds of rainwater sparkled on broad, shiny-wet leaves of jungle plants. Birds bathed, chirping and splashing, in the red center-cups of huge pineapple-like bromeliads. Runoff from last night's storm plop-plopped from the tall trees and made water circles beneath the cathedral-arch aerial roots of the mangroves.
A narrow strip of sandy beach was littered with flotsam and jetsam—pieces of crates probably jettisoned from a passing ship during the storm.
Across several miles of glassy-smooth peacock blue water, a merchant ship leaned unnaturally, stuck fast on the reef.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
On Tift's Wharf, the tower lookout spotted the distant wreck—a dot on the horizon through his spyglass—and reached for the bell rope. Clang, clang, clang, clang! On and on the bell pealed while he shouted "Wreck asho-o-o-ore! Wreck asho-o-o-ore!"
In the Thibodeauxs' parlor, Aaron Matthews, shirtless but clad in his trousers and boots, was asleep on the settee with his arm still encircling the place where Joe had fallen asleep beside him—but she was nowhere in sight. The clanging bell and lookout's cries woke him. He was confused, disoriented, and came to his feet looking around for Joe.
"Good! You're up!"
Aaron, still clearing his head, looked up to see Captain Thibodeaux headed for the front door, buttoning his red jacket as he walked.
"What?" Aaron croaked.
Thibodeaux didn't hesitate. He was already opening the door. "Well, get a move on, boy! We'll need every hand we can get!"
Aaron stood looking at his shirt, rumpled and flattened on the settee where he and Joe had slept on top of it. Dazed, he reached for it and started putting it on.
Alyce Thibodeaux, known in her youth as the Iron Debutante, stopped at the bottom of the stairs, having followed her husband down from their bedroom. She clutched the high ruffled neck of her heavy floor-length dressing gown as she took in Aaron, his rumpled shirt, the settee—and drew her own conclusions. Unyielding disapproval vibrated in her features and her voice.
