“Where’s my wife?” he snarled.
Charlie backed up. His eyes widened in panic, and he swallowed repeatedly. Sweat beaded his forehead. He shook his head vigorously from side to side.
“She’s—”
Alex grabbed Charlie by the shirt, and slammed his fist against the man’s jaw, sending him to the ground. He rushed toward the house, kicked the door open, and held his knife out in front of him. Quickly, he scanned the large central room. A fire blazed in the hearth, and everything looked neat and tidy. Muffled voices and strange sounds came from a room down the narrow hallway to the left.
“Evie?” Alex roared. He sprang in the direction of the sound, his heart pounding in his chest.
A woman wearing a bloodstained apron and holding a thick bundle of white cloth in her arms emerged from the room that Alex vaguely remembered had been Evie’s childhood bedroom. She stared at him, her mouth set in a firm line, her eyes shooting daggers at him.
“What is the meaning of this?” she demanded. “Who are you? Where’s Mr. Richardson?”
Alex glowered at the woman, his focus on the door behind her. He stepped closer when she didn’t move aside, guarding the entrance to the bedroom with the fierceness of a mother grizzly.
“Where’s Evelyn?” he demanded.
“She’s resting at the moment. You can’t go in there.”
“Alex?”
Evie’s weak and muted voice jolted him to the core. An arrow to the chest from a Blackfoot warrior couldn’t have made a greater impact.
“Like hell I can’t,” Alex growled, and pushed past the woman. He ripped the door open amid her adamant protests. The sight before him stopped him in his tracks. The pounding of his heart in his ears seemed to drown out all sound, and the air rushed from his lungs. A quick scan of the room revealed bloody linens tossed on the ground. A washbasin stood near the foot of the bed. It looked as if something had been butchered in this room.
Chapter 22
Alex’s eyes fell to the figure on the bed along the wall in the center of the room. His heart lurched in his chest.
“Alex? Oh my God, Alex?” Evelyn cried, struggling to lift herself up from the bed.
Dressed in a long white cotton nightgown, Evelyn sat half-reclined on the mattress. She braced her hands on either side of her to slide her body to a more upright position. Her eyes grew wide, and tears rolled down her cheeks. Her face looked ashen and matched the color of the sheets. Sweat-soaked hair clung to her forehead. She held her arm out toward him, beckoning him to her. He didn’t need any further encouragement.
In two strides, Alex reached her side and dropped to his knees beside the bed. His palm cupped her clammy cheek, and he swiped away the damp strands of hair. Something was terribly wrong. She looked ill and exhausted, but a quick scan down the length of her revealed that she seemed otherwise unharmed. Where had all the blood come from?
“You came. You really came,” Evie sobbed. “I hoped and prayed that you would come.” She reached for him, and he leaned forward. Her body shook as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and weakly pulled him toward her. Alex cautiously gathered her to him, unsure where she was hurt and afraid to do more harm. Slowly, he moved from the floor and sat at the edge of the bed.
“Evie,” he whispered against her neck, stroking her back. “I thought I’d lost you.” His voice cracked, and he could do no more but hold her in his embrace. The long months of misery, of thinking that she was dead vanished, and happiness replaced the anguish in his heart. He inhaled long and slow, savoring her sweet feminine scent. His arms trembled, and her upper body quivered in his embrace. She continued to sob.
“What did Charlie do to you?” her murmured, cradling the back of her head.
He kissed her forehead, then brushed his lips against her mouth. His muscles tensed, anger at Henry and Charlie exploding inside him. They would pay for what they had done to her. A loud wail pierced the stillness of the room, followed by the harsh words of the woman he had encountered in the hall.
“What is the meaning of this?”
Alex ground his teeth at the stern voice of the irritating woman behind him. The shrill cries of what sounded like a newly born mountain goat nearly drowned out her words. Reluctantly, he pulled away from Evie, and turned his upper body to stare at the woman standing in the middle of the room. His eyes dropped to the bundle in her arms that he had mistaken for a wad of linen material a few moments ago. A tiny human hand poked from between the layers of cloth, bunched in a tight little fist. The baby’s wails grew in intensity with each second that passed.
Comprehension failed him. Why was this annoying woman bringing her child into Evie’s room? He needed to be alone with her. His irritation with her grew, and he stood from the bed to face her.
The woman’s eyes narrowed on Alex before she glared at Evie. “I don’t know what’s going on here. Where is Mr. Richardson?”
“Probably still lying in the dirt outside,” Alex said loudly over the baby’s cries. “I ain’t leaving this room, but I suggest you do.”
Evie’s hand grabbed for his arm. “Alex, I have to tell you—”
“Your infant requires his first feeding.” The woman’s face turned red, and she puffed out her cheeks. She marched toward the bed, and Alex straightened to his full height. She held out the bundle, and Evie reached for it with trembling arms. Alex’s brows scrunched together, his mind struggling for comprehension.
The woman stepped back, her hands on her hips. “This is outrageous,” she screeched, glaring at Alex. “This man can’t be in here while you feed your child.”
The blood drained from Alex’s head, down his arms and chest and into his legs, and seemed to ooze right into the floorboards. He stepped back for fear that he might fall on his unsteady legs.
Evie’s child?
Alex swallowed. He gaped at Evie. His mind went numb. She cooed at the little infant, whose cries had lessened in her arms. She fumbled with the buttons on her nightdress, and Alex stood rooted to the spot.
“Mrs. Kirk, may I have some privacy?” she said, glancing up briefly. Then her eyes met Alex’s.
“Well, I never . . . “ the woman huffed, and wheeled around. “Mr. Lewis and Mr. Richardson will hear about this.” She stormed from the room.
Alex’s eyes remained fixed on the baby, and on Evie. She parted the nightgown, exposing first her shoulder then her breast, which was fuller than what he remembered. The baby latched on to her nipple after several unsuccessful tries, and Evie continued her soft coos. Then she glanced up at him, and smiled wearily. If this was Evie’s baby, then . . . He counted back the months in his head. A force greater than a horse’s kick to the gut jolted him.
“Sit, Alex,” she whispered. “Come and meet your son.”
Alex stared at her. He swallowed repeatedly, trying to force down the hard lump that had formed in his throat. His heart pounded in his ears.
“My son?” He barely produced a sound. His mouth went dry, and his chest tightened. He stared at the dark-haired infant at Evie’s breast, and warmth flooded his chest, wrapping around him like a warm cocoon.
“I hadn’t told you. I’m so sorry, Alex. I should have told you right away when I suspected, but I waited. That’s the reason I left the cabin that morning. I wanted to find mint for my unsettled stomach.”
Alex eased himself onto the mattress. His eyes never left the tiny human in Evie’s arms. He had a son. And he’d missed all those months of watching Evie swell with a baby growing inside her. What if he’d never found out she was alive? The thought sickened him, and a new wave of anger at Henry slammed his gut.
“Henry showed up, and that’s when the earth started shaking that day,” Evie continued. He grabbed me and we ran.” Fresh tears spilled from her eyes, and her gaze lifted to him. “He threatened me, Alex. I had no choice but to do what he wanted. I was afraid for our baby.”
“I thought you were buried under a pile of rocks up on the mountain.” He ran a shaky ha
nd over his face, trying to disguise the crack in his voice.
Evelyn gripped his arm. “I’m sorry, Alex. I should have stayed at the cabin that day. I should have told you I was with child. Please forgive me.”
“Forgive you?” Alex’s eyes widened, and he sucked in a deep breath. He cupped her face in his palm, and she leaned into his touch. “Evie. There is nothing to forgive. I’m sorry I failed to protect you. I should never have left you alone that day.” His thumb swiped at the tears running down her cheek. “I love you. You’re alive, and safe, and . . . the mother of my son.” He glanced at the baby, a soft smile forming on his face. He still couldn’t comprehend that he was now a father. Forgotten were the months of bitter cold and hardship as he forged his way over impenetrable mountains. Love for his son and the baby’s mother flowed freely through him like a river during spring thaw. He would endure it all again, and more, if he had to.
He touched a tentative finger to the baby’s head, surprised at the softness of his skin, and the downy feeling of his hair. Leaning forward, he touched his lips to Evie’s mouth. Then he pulled back, a sudden thought nagging at him.
“Are you . . . married to Charlie?” His eyes sought hers for the truth, afraid of what her answer would be.
Wide-eyed, Evie quickly shook her head. “No. I refused to marry him until after the baby was born. Henry told everyone in town that Charlie and I were wed to keep up appearances after I told them I was with child.” She paused, and reached for his hand. Alex held his breath and waited for her to continue.
“I knew I couldn’t find my way back to you carrying a child. I had hoped you would come for me.”
Alex clenched his jaw, and the air left his lungs.
“I told him and Henry that I’d cooperate for the sake of our baby.”
Alex clutched her hand. “My God, Evie. For two months, I wanted nothing more than to join you up on that mountain. If I had known you were alive . . . you know I would have come after you. I found a piece of the capote sticking out from under a boulder. I thought . . . I thought it was you.”
“I wasn’t wearing it when Henry found me.” She reached her hand up to touch his face. “I never gave up hope that you would come. If not, I was prepared to find my way back to you. One way or the other, I knew we’d be together again.”
The infant stirred, and Evie lifted him to her shoulder. Alex drank in the tranquil scene. He couldn’t get enough of just looking at her and the baby that had been born of their love. A fierce protectiveness grabbed hold of him, something to rival the fiercest predator watching over its young.
“Henry is going to be sorry he ever took you from me.” Alex’s jaw muscles tightened. He stood from the bed. “I’m still not clear why.”
Evelyn’s eyes widened. “Alex,” she whispered, and he stared at her, waiting. Her eyes filled with renewed tears. He sat beside her again, and held her hand.
“What is it?” he asked, alarmed by the sudden anguish on her face.
She swallowed, and gripped his hand, her arm trembling. “Charlie didn’t kill my parents,” she continued. Each word sounded forced from her mouth. His eyebrows scrunched together. If Charlie hadn’t killed them, then who . . .
Comprehension dawned, and his heart sank to his stomach. He ran a hand over his face. “Why would Henry murder his own parents?” he asked between clenched teeth. The question left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“To be free of the farm, and so he could finance his smuggling operation against the fur company you worked for. The one Laurent is spying for.”
“How does Charlie fit into all that?” Alex asked. He had to know what he was up against.
“Charlie saw Henry leave the house right after the murder. Henry convinced him to keep his mouth shut, and promised him a part of the profits in exchange for his silence. The farm and I were part of the bargain.” She paused, and looked at him before continuing. “When they saw you heading toward the farm, Henry realized quickly that he could kill you and blame you for the murder, so he told Charlie to shoot you. He never meant to come after you. It was the story he told me. He had only planned to head upriver with the men until the cargo was stolen. He didn’t count on me refusing to marry Charlie, or following him, and so he told Oliver Sabin to stage his death, and then Sabin could kill me.” Evelyn gulped for air, and a shudder passed through her.
“Why did he come for you all these months later?”
“Because Charlie apparently still wanted Henry to uphold the agreement that I would marry him for his silence. He threatened to go to the authorities.”
“If Henry is capable of all this, what would stop him from killing you and Charlie now?”
“Good question indeed, old friend.”
Evelyn gasped, and Alex leapt from his seat at the edge of the bed. Henry stood in the doorway to the room, pointing a pistol at him. Alex slowly moved to stand in front of the bed, blocking Evie from her brother’s aim.
“Oliver Sabin was supposed to kill you, Alex,” Henry smirked. “Right after he took care of that French spy.”
An easy smile formed on Alex’s face. His hand slowly reached for the knife at his belt. “From what Laurent tells me, Sabin won’t be doing any more killing.”
Henry stared, his lip twitching in a sneer.
“And neither will you,” Alex added as an afterthought.
“Don’t be so sure about that, Alex,” Henry retorted coldly. He laughed. “I’ve realized that too many people know my secret now. I always figured Charlie was too much of a coward to go to the authorities. If I handed you to him, dear sister, he would keep his mouth shut. But I see you’re not going to stay quiet. I wish I had killed you up in those mountains. I honestly thought I’d find you eager to return home. I’ve underestimated you, and I’ve given it a lot of thought. I can’t let you live. Either of you.” His eyes met Alex’s hard stare.
Alex stepped toward Henry, taking a calculated risk. Just as he’d hoped, Henry pointed the pistol at him. He took another step to the side. He had to draw Henry’s attention away from Evelyn and the baby. Henry only had one shot. It was best the pistol was aimed at him.
If he was going to act, it had to be now. With practiced speed, he pulled his knife from his belt, and threw it, while at the same time he rolled to the ground. Henry cried out when the knife struck his hand, and the pistol fired, the bullet sending splinters of wood in the air from where it hit the floorboard. Evelyn screamed, and the baby began to cry. Alex sprang up from the ground, and ran toward Henry. He rammed into him, and slammed him into the wall. Grabbing him by the shirt, he nearly lifted him off the ground.
“Today is the last time you’ll ever threaten me, or my wife and family again,” he growled, his face inches from Henry’s. Shocked and wide-eyed, his former friend stared back at him, then suddenly began to laugh.
“Go ahead, Alex. Kill me. I know it’s what you want to do.”
Alex sneered. “I’d like nothing more than beat you into the ground,” he growled.
“Then why don’t you? Isn’t that what your old man loved to do?”
“I’m not my father,” Alex said between clenched teeth. He yanked Henry away from the wall, and pushed him toward the door, and out into the hall. He caught a glimpse of Charlie rushing toward them from the main room. He held a pistol in his hand, and aimed. Before Alex realized what he intended, Charlie fired, and Henry slumped to the ground. Alex stared. Nothing made sense any more.
“This time my aim was true. This is the man I should have shot a year ago,” Charlie said. His chest heaved, a fierce gleam in his eye.
“Alex?” Evelyn called frantically from inside the room. Alex turned his head in her direction.”
“I’ll be right there,” he answered to ease her worry, then directed his gaze back at Charlie.
“I love her,” Charlie said quietly, looking at Alex. “Since Henry brought her back, it’s become clear that I’ll never win her heart. You have always been in possession of that. Make sure you tr
eat her well.” Charlie met Alex’s stare for a moment, then bent down to grab hold of Henry’s lifeless body. “I’ll take care of him.”
“Charlie,” Alex called. He held out his hand. Charlie glanced at it, then reached forward and shook it. “My father owned 125 acres of good farm land. I don’t know what shape the house is in, but combined with this place, you’ll have quite a nice spread. It’s yours, if you agree to let Evelyn remain here until she is recovered from the birth.”
Charlie nodded slowly. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.”
A silent understanding passed between the two. Charlie reached down once again, and grabbed hold of Henry’s legs, dragging his lifeless body down the hall and out of the house.
Alex turned on his heels and rushed back into the room. Evie struggled to sit up, and console the crying infant in her arms.
“Is he . . . is Henry . . .?”
Alex nodded, not letting her finish her thought. “I’m sorry, Evie. I didn’t want it to end like this. Henry was your brother, after all.” He sat at the edge of the bed. His eyes searched her weary face, and silent tears rolled down her cheeks.
“He’s someone I didn’t know anymore, Alex,” she said barely above a whisper. “I can’t help but think he would have always tried to find a way to hurt us.”
“I want to wrap you in my arms and hold you,” he said as quietly as he could and still be heard above the baby’s cries. Evie sniffed, and smiled.
“Perhaps you should hold your son instead.” She held the swaddled infant toward him, and a jolt of apprehension rushed through him. He swallowed, and tentatively held out his arms. Bending forward, he gathered the bundle to his chest. An intense feeling of love and pride rushed through him, and he gazed down into his son’s red and angry face. Alex stood and moved around the room, slowly swaying his arms back and forth while holding the bundle close to his heart. What if he held him too tight? What if he dropped him?
Teton Sunrise (Teton Romance Trilogy) Page 20
