Yours Truly, Thomas

by Rachel Fordham

  They are still together. Their anger is still just as raw and as deep. I had hoped it would go away, but now I hear them talk of burning the house when Thomas comes back or watching for him when he comes out of the boardinghouse. Jeb does most of the talking. He’s fueled by a deep anger. I don’t understand it. I never would have thought it possible for him to be so evil, but I believe it now. I worry for you all. I’m telling you, he is capable of the cruelest of deeds. Tell Thomas to be safe.

  Burn this. Jeb can’t know I sent it.

  Eliza

  “This is horrible. She can’t live like this. Always afraid.”

  Margaret reached for the letter. “Do you trust me to take this to the sheriff?”

  “Will you burn it then? I could never live with myself if something happened to Eliza on my account.”

  “I will. We need to act quickly.”

  Penny pulled herself up higher in bed. “Is there anything I can do from here? I want to help.”

  “You sent the letter to Eliza, and your telegrams, they’ve all helped. Besides, if you’d not been hurt, Thomas likely would be dead. Staying in this town under this roof is what’s kept him alive all this time.” She patted Penny’s cheek. “Stay here. Start your story. Write a letter. Keep yourself busy so you aren’t just sitting here worrying. We’ll catch these men. You will get your peaceful stretch.”

  Penny bit her lip and nodded. Her insides twisted as she watched Margaret leave. She fidgeted with worry until, finally, she reached for some paper.

  “I suppose I will write,” she said to Honey.

  A man with a dark and troublesome past wrote a letter . . .

  “I’ve rounded up Caleb, Hugh, the Lenard boys, Abraham Howell, and a few men from the O’Donnells’ fields. They’re all armed and ready to go. Others might join us later as the word gets out.” The sheriff caught Thomas up on what he’d been doing.

  “I’m ready now. I’m worried though. I don’t want anyone in danger.” Thomas fastened his gun belt around his waist and put his gun in the holster. “I knew Oscar Finley. We didn’t always see eye to eye, but he wasn’t a violent man. Losing Clara must have changed him. Or maybe it’s Jeb’s influence.”

  “I can’t speak for what happened to him, but he’s here in my town and he’s dangerous. A man can’t just burn another man’s barn and get away with it.”

  Thomas rubbed his forehead. “But what will happen to Eliza when Jeb finds out she told?”

  “He doesn’t need to know that. We will try to get a confession from him. I can’t say for sure what will happen, but going out there is the next step.”

  “Will you wait a few moments?” An urgency to see Penny again filled his chest. He couldn’t ride off toward danger without being near her once more. Even if only for a moment. He’d told her a great deal of what was in his heart, but he had more to say. “I need to give Penny a message first.”

  “All right. I’ll make sure everyone is saddled and ready to go. Meet us near the livery.”

  Thomas thanked him and ran for Margaret’s, where he rushed through the front door and took the stairs two at a time.

  “Penny.” He banged on her door. Just knowing he was headed toward danger put a desperate need in him to say the words he’d been holding back. She had to know how he felt.

  “Come in.”

  Thomas opened the door. “Penny, I’m heading to Jeb’s. There’s a whole group of us. It’s dangerous, and I couldn’t go without saying what needed saying.” He crossed the floor and stood beside her bed. “I don’t want you to leave. Don’t go back to DC. Don’t go back to the mother who doesn’t understand you. Don’t go back and spend your days reading other people’s mail. Stay here with me and I’ll write you all the letters you want. You’ll have so many—hundreds, thousands if you wish. Don’t go back.” He took a deep breath. “I couldn’t leave without you knowing what I want.”

  “I can’t stay.”

  “Why?”

  “I have to be able to support myself. Even now I’m about out of money. I’d love your letters, but I can’t stay.”

  He stepped closer. Then he knelt beside her bed. All walls were gone. In this moment, there was only truth. “No. You’re not alone. While you’re here in Azure Springs, we’re together. We’re stronger, better. Let me stay near you all my days. I’ll be the man I was meant to be. The one who sits beside you when you are ill. I’ll read to you, write to you. You won’t want for anything.”

  She looked into his eyes. “You could have your pick. You’re young and with money. You could do anything, have anything. And you want me and Azure Springs?”

  “I do. You believed in me before I even believed in myself. You came here. You came knowing my heartache and remorse. You know my past and I so desperately want to share my future with you. I don’t want anyone else.” He put his hands on her cheeks. He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, and finally her lips. Her skin was soft, perfect. He felt hungry for more, but he stopped. “Penelope Ercanbeck, I love you. Providence brought us together in this town. When I’m with you, the pain from before is not so piercing. Life has purpose and joy. Ours is an unusual story, but it’s ours. Can you feel it? How being together heals so many of the hurts from before?”

  Tears ran down Penny’s face. “I do. I feel it. My father told me to leap and I did and now I know why. Because here with you, I don’t have to worry about fitting in. I can just be me. He was right about everything and about our lives being different than we plan but still being beautiful.”

  “And ours will be. I know it will.”

  She leaned her head against his chest. Never had anything felt so right to him as holding this woman in his arms. He kissed the top of her head, pressing his lips to her hair and letting them linger there. The scent of soap so soft and sweet. He felt himself sigh in blissful contentment. This woman, this beautiful woman in his arms, was the future he wanted.

  The moments of tenderness ticked by. There were men waiting for him. An unreconciled past to attend to. He straightened. “I have to go. Someday soon I’m going to give you a future that is safe, but first I have to end all this.”

  “I know you do.” She wiped at the tears in her eyes. “I cry a lot.”

  “Soon I hope to make sure you cry only happy tears.” He picked his hat up off the floor. When he bent down, her stack of papers caught his eye. “You’re writing?”

  “Yes. I was so nervous that I had to do something.”

  He kissed her again. “Keep writing. I’ll be back and then we’ll start our life together.”

  Green tear-filled eyes looked up at him. “Be safe.”

  He moved to the door.

  “Thomas,” she called.

  “Yes?”

  “I want you to know that I love you. I have for a long time now. It started when I read your letters and I will go on loving you forever.”

  A lump rose in his throat. “You can’t imagine what hearing that does to me.”

  “I will tell you so often you’ll be tired of hearing it,” she said through her tears. “I love you.”

  “If that is to be my lot in life, then I can assure you, dear Penny, my story will have a happy ending.”

  “As will mine.”

  He had to go. In four large steps, he crossed the room. His body, his heart begged to touch her again. She tilted her head toward him. Thomas pressed his lips to hers. He wanted to kiss her again and again, but he pulled away. “Write your story, and when I come back, we’ll live it.”

  28

  It’s all right, girl,” Thomas said as he patted Josephine’s neck. “Settle down. This will be over soon. Then we’ll build you a new barn and Penny will feed you carrots. Can you imagine that? A future with Penny in it.” His chest grew tight. The words sounded right, but he knew as he stroked the stubborn mare that there was a chance there would never be a new barn or a future with Penny.

  “Let’s head out.” The sheriff motioned for the group of men to follow. Hugh rode
close at his heels. Thomas had never seen his good-natured friend so distraught. Periodically throughout the duration of the ride he removed his hat and wiped his brow. On more than one occasion he smacked his hat against his side and groaned.

  Thomas clicked his heels against Josephine and rode up beside him. “Hugh?”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Going out like this?”

  “Eliza’s probably in there. She’s living with Jeb. She rarely leaves the farm.” Hugh’s jaw flexed.

  “We’re large in number. We should be able to overtake them.” Thomas tried to reassure himself and Hugh. They were quickly approaching the Danbury farm, and soon it would be too late to have second thoughts.

  “We’ve got them in number, but they’ve got her.”

  “Every man here would give his life to keep her safe. We won’t let anything happen.”

  “Can you guarantee that?” Hugh scowled. “Can you promise she’ll get through this unharmed? You can’t—and neither can I.”

  “Men.” The sheriff’s voice silenced their conversation. “Bring your horses around.”

  All the men rode up near him. Every face in the crowd was serious, concerned. Abraham Howell’s chin shook. He was the oldest man in the group and the least qualified. But he was Eliza’s father and not a single man tried to keep him from riding.

  The sheriff paused a moment before he spoke. “I’d like to send in a scout to figure out their location. Then we’ll approach in two groups. The first group will circle the house or barn. Wherever they are. The other group will hang back and come when there’s danger or need. We’ll have more power over the situation if we come in waves.”

  Caleb volunteered to go ahead and scout. “I’ve had experience tracking bandits and will be able to keep a cool head.”

  Before the sheriff could even respond, Caleb was riding away.

  The others divided into two groups—six men in the first and five in the second—as they waited for Caleb to return.

  A tightness gripped Thomas’s insides. He wanted this over. Not just for him and for Penny but for all these men. This was his fight and they’d come to stand beside him. Their lives were in jeopardy because of him. He took several slow breaths. Stay in control, he instructed himself. He had to act rationally, not emotionally. When a wave of nausea threatened to make him sick, he turned away from the group to hide his disobedient body the best he could. Clara had died on his watch. Penny was injured. He looked at the men around him. These were his friends, his townspeople. Would he cause more pain?

  “You ready?” Hugh asked. “Looks like Caleb’s back. It’s time to end this.”

  “They’re in the house. All three of them. I didn’t see any hands around.” Caleb took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. “Maybe we should wait. We could all watch different parts of the property. We could surprise the men when they’re alone.”

  “No.” The sheriff sat up tall in his saddle. “We go now. We’ll surround the house. There’ll be no waiting on my watch. These men are too dangerous.”

  “They have Eliza,” Caleb said in a harsh whisper. “She’s with them. Don’t be a fool just so you can end this. Do it right. They’ll use her to keep us from taking them out. Jeb’s proven how little he cares. He’ll use her to escape.”

  “We ride.”

  Thomas urged Josephine ahead a few steps. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt. Maybe there’s a better plan.”

  “No one is getting hurt,” the sheriff shouted. “We’re large in number. We end this now.” He turned his horse and started toward the house. “Follow me.”

  Abraham hesitated, looking from man to man. “I’m going with him. I got to save her. That’s my daughter.”

  Caleb nodded. “We ride.”

  Thomas urged Josephine after the other horses. First wave and second wave were forgotten. All the men rode together. Their eyes focused intensely on the house. Uneasiness was written across all their faces. Their knuckles were white as they gripped their reins. The thundering of hooves created a roaring din as they galloped toward the house.

  Hugh passed Thomas and raced ahead.

  Soon all the men were riding faster. Harder.

  With his hand in the air, the sheriff drew a giant circle. “Circle the house!” he yelled. “Cover all the doors. No one gets away.”

  Jeb must have heard the commotion. The curtains closed across the front window and Thomas could hear muffled voices coming from inside. The blocked view into the house only caused Thomas’s heart to beat faster.

  The men took their positions, encircling the house.

  “What’s happening in there?” Hugh sat on his horse to the right of Thomas. “Come out!” he yelled. “Come out and face us.” He pulled his pistol from its holster and fired it into the air. The ring of horses whinnied and pounded the ground with their hooves.

  “Come out, you coward,” another man said. Others joined in, yelling and baiting him to come out.

  The echo of the gunshot faded away. The horses calmed. Still and quiet, they waited. Long minutes passed. Hugh’s horse pranced back and forth.

  “Hold him back,” Thomas said. “We can’t do anything irrational.”

  “We already have,” Hugh said. “We trapped Eliza inside with those monsters.”

  Thomas flinched when the moment was broken as the front door of the house flew open. Jeb sneered at them as he emerged. “Here I am.” His left arm was wrapped around Eliza’s middle. Her hands were tied and her mouth gagged. She kicked her feet, trying to free herself. Jeb shook her and swore.

  Thomas slipped a foot from his stirrup. He wanted to fly from his horse and run with fists swinging at Jeb. But there was a gun pressed against Eliza.

  “No,” Thomas said under his breath. “No.”

  “You want me?” He shook Eliza. “Then it’ll cost you her. Oscar, go get us a couple horses saddled up. Better yet, just take a couple of theirs.”

  Oscar Finley stepped out of the house with a gun in his hand. It shook in the air. A second pistol was strapped to his side. He didn’t move toward the barn or toward their horses. He stood frozen behind Jeb and Eliza.

  Abraham slid from his horse. “Take my horse. Give me my daughter.”

  “Stop right there,” Jeb growled. “She’s my wife. You get back on your horse. You’re nothing but a worthless old man. The rest of you, drop your weapons.” He pressed his gun against Eliza’s temple. “Drop them.”

  Eliza’s eyes searched them, pleading for help. Thomas looked away. There was so much fear in her eyes. Had Clara looked the same way when she’d faced death? Every man in the circle dropped his gun.

  Abraham stood staring helplessly at his daughter. Tears ran from his eyes as he watched her suffer.

  “Please,” he begged. “Let her go. This isn’t her fight.” Abraham’s legs gave out from beneath him and he fell to the ground. “Please. Take me. Let her go.”

  “No. She goes with me.” Jeb kicked her again. “She’s mine.” Eliza whimpered beneath her gag.

  He spat to the side of him. “Worthless woman.”

  Hugh flew from his horse. Thomas slid off his horse and grabbed Hugh, holding him back. Hugh fought against him.

  A shot sounded. Thomas looked from Hugh back toward Jeb. He lay on the ground. The men were all flying from their horses and running toward Jeb and Eliza. Thomas let Hugh go.

  “What happened?” Thomas asked as they raced toward the house.

  “Oscar.” Hugh gasped for breath. “He saved her. He shot Jeb.” Oscar stood in the same spot he’d been in. His hands still held the gun he’d used to shoot Jeb. “I-I had to save her.” He repeated it over and over. “I had to save Clara. I had to save her.”

  “Drop your weapon.” The sheriff held his gun pointed directly at Oscar. “Drop it.”

  Oscar’s weapon fell to the ground. He collapsed then too. Shaking all over, he knelt on the ground with his hands on his knees.

  The sheriff rubbed his j
aw as he walked back and forth in front of the broken man. “You saved Eliza. But you . . . you burned the barn.”

  “I . . . I . .” Oscar looked around. Then his eyes locked on Thomas’s.

  Thomas pushed through the crowd.

  “You killed her,” Oscar cried.

  Thomas stepped closer, his head bowed. “You saved Eliza.”

  The man’s jaw shook. “No man should lose a daughter.” He looked away. Thomas’s eyes followed his gaze. Abraham was holding Eliza. Rocking her back and forth. Thomas felt relief and anguish. Abraham had his girl in his arms, but a man was dead. The cost had been high.

  Oscar shook his head. “I had to stop him. I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t let that man”—he pointed again at Abraham—“feel the pain I’m feeling.”

  “I’m sorry,” Thomas whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I burned your barn—”

  “We have a confession,” the sheriff said. “Someone bring me rope. We’ll tie him up and take him in.”

  “No.” Thomas stepped in front of Oscar, blocking the way to him, and turned to the sheriff. “It’s my barn. I don’t want him arrested. He’s a man hurting. I don’t blame him.”

  Oscar stood and put a hand on Thomas’s shoulder.

  Thomas faced him. “I should have been there with Clara that night. I should have stayed by her side and found a way to save her. I wasn’t Jeb. I never meant to hurt her, but I wasn’t a good man. I wish I could fix it. I wish I could bring her back.” Thomas wiped at his sweaty forehead. “I know it’s asking a lot for you to forgive me. You don’t have to . . . Burn my house. Do whatever you have to do.”

  “She was my girl.” Oscar wept. The anger was gone, but the pain and heartache were still there. “She was my little girl.”

  “I know. I was wrong.”