“You have two choices,” Hunter said with authority. “Leave now or be shot. Sure, your brothers may just get peppered with buckshot, but at this distance it won’t be pretty and more than likely will get infected. You, however, will die, and I won’t have to unload all my rounds to do it. You see, I’ve killed before. More men than I can count, in fact. I don’t mind doing it again.”
“Come on, Linc,” the youngest brother pleaded, his discomfort since the beginning turning into downright spinelessness. Smart man.
Linc tore his gaze from Hunter and sneered at Viola. “You just remember what I said. Your pa and brother are dead, and no newcomer is going to keep you safe, despite what he says. You’re mine,” Linc added with a lecherous glare. “I’ll take you however I can get you, even with this man’s stink on you. No way I’m giving you up when everything is now working into place. You and what belongs to you will be mine.”
“Linc, I’m sorry if I ever gave you the impression I was interested in furthering our relationship. It never was my intention. However, if you ever come back here, you’ll regret it. Leave, Linc, and don’t come back. I pray you find a life of your own, a life worth living, because this life you’ve chosen is doing nothing but tearing you apart,” Viola said, showing much more compassion than Hunter was willing to extend.
The large brother grabbed Linc’s arm as the other brother scurried away. Linc hesitated a second more and then turned and stomped to his mangy horse. He jumped into the saddle and kicked the poor beast into a full gallop with his brothers close behind him.
As Hunter stepped back into the house with Viola propped under his arm, all strength and energy seeped from him. His last conscious thought was to tuck Viola safely to his chest as he fell like a brick into darkness.
Viola shrieked in surprise as Hunter’s arm tightened around her and they fell to the floor. He held her close to his chest, taking all the impact with a grunt. Beatrice raced through the door with her gun drawn.
Her eyes widened. “What in the world happened?”
“I don’t know,” Viola replied as she tried to shift away from Hunter. “One minute he was scaring off the Sweeneys, the next he was falling like a felled tree. It was shocking, really, how all energy and strength left him.” She grunted and pulled from his side. “Grab his guns and help me out of here. My dress got stuck underneath him.”
Beatrice holstered her gun, shut the door, and walked to where Hunter trapped Viola. “He was impressive, wasn’t he? I’ve never heard someone be so nonchalant and commanding at the same time. I wish I could’ve watched it instead of just listened.”
Beatrice took the guns from his hands, but when she tried to roll Hunter over, his arm tightened like a vise around Viola and he mumbled, “No. Safe. Keep safe.”
Beatrice moved away, and his arm loosened. Viola tried to push herself away, and his arm tightened again with him mumbling about her being safe.
“Oh, bother. What am I supposed to do now?”
“It looks like you’re stuck, sister.” Beatrice chuckled.
“I can’t be stuck. I have too much work that needs to get done.” Viola huffed.
“Well,” Beatrice said. “What if you lean away from him, and I’ll try to pull your skirt out?”
Viola nodded and rolled away from Hunter a little as Beatrice reached between them to pull on the dress. Hunter pulled Viola close, trapping Beatrice’s arm between them.
“No, stay. Safe. Keep safe,” Hunter mumbled.
Beatrice started laughing hard. “Well, this is awkward.”
“Beatrice, stop laughing,” Viola said. “This isn’t funny.”
“This, dear sister, is wildly funny,” Beatrice said.
Viola peeked at her and broke down laughing. They were stuck there with Beatrice’s arm pinned between them. With Hunter’s strong arm anchored around Viola, she was safe … maybe even cherished. She silently thanked God for this time of laughter, this time of peace, and this man beside her. She laughed until tears streamed down her face and she couldn’t breathe.
As Beatrice’s laughter calmed, and she wiped her tears on her sleeve, she said, “All right, my knees and back are aching, pinned in here like this. What if you real sweet-like tell him you aren’t going anywhere and you’re safe? Perhaps he’ll ease up enough to get my arm out.”
“It’s worth a try,” Viola said as she calmed the last of her giggles. Taking a deep breath, she spoke in what she hoped was a convincing voice. “Hunter, I’m not going anywhere, and we’re safe now.”
Hunter breathed a sigh of relief and loosened his arms. Beatrice pulled her arm out and rubbed her arm and her lower back. Viola was lying flat on her back with Hunter’s arm under and around her. She wondered if there was anything she might do from here. Knitting or even mending?
Just as Viola opened her mouth to ask Beatrice to bring her the mending, Hunter’s arm began to tighten again. He curled his arm beneath her, pulling her close to him until her head rested on his shoulder. She self-consciously placed her hand upon his chest, and he sighed in contentment, placing his other hand upon hers.
“Well, this is embarrassing and inappropriate,” Viola muttered.
“It’s kind of sweet,” Beatrice said as she went to the table and finished chopping the herbs for the stew. “Besides, he’s doing it subconsciously and no one’s here.”
“I guess so,” Viola said, attempting to relax.
“It must be nice to feel so, oh, I don’t know, treasured.” Beatrice sighed.
“I don’t know if he feels that or is just obligated to protect me is all,” Viola said, trying to control the elation that being adored by this man caused.
Beatrice snorted. “Just try to convince yourself of that.”
“It’s true,” Viola said. “We’ve barely met him, and he’s been unconscious most of that time. There’s no way he feels anything for me beyond an obligation to return the kindness of us bringing him here and patching him up. He just seems to be the protector sort.”
“Believe what you want. I’ll give you, he’s the protector sort. It seems to exude from him. However, I guarantee that if it were me pinned beneath him, he wouldn’t be snuggling up close and smiling like the cat that stole all the cream.”
Viola craned her neck to peer at his face. He looked quite satisfied and relaxed, which sent her heart skittering. Her face heated in a blush as she laid her head back down and sighed in confused frustration.
“It’s just not possible,” Viola muttered.
“Why not?” Beatrice asked. “Mama met Pa one day, married him two days later, packed up all the belongings she could fit into her one trunk, and left Pittsburgh and the grand life she had there to move here to Pa’s home. They were in love. It’s possible, and you know it.”
“I guess you’re right,” Viola mumbled.
She remembered all of the happy memories of her childhood. Her parents had loved each other immensely. She’d always known that she wanted to look at a man and have him look at her the way her parents had gazed at each other. There’d been such a longing and tenderness within their glances, even after all their years of marriage and troubles. She often wondered if it hadn’t been for her and her siblings, if Pa would’ve just curled up beside Mama and died alongside her from heartbreak. The silence seemed to fill with the heaviness of sadness.
“Do you reckon Pa and Orlando are dead?” Beatrice asked into the oppressive air, the question landing like lead upon Viola’s chest.
“I don’t know.” She forced the words from her lips. She took a deep breath and continued with a confidence she didn’t have. “I know that the Sweeneys are a bunch of weasels, so I’m not going to put much thought into what they said until I have real proof.”
“I guess it wouldn’t do much good to worry about it anyway, at least until we know the truth,” Beatrice said, as she turned her back to Viola and sniffed, wiping her hands across her eyes.
As the sadness threatened to overwhelm her, Viola prayed, “Fa
ther God, You alone know the truth, and You tell us not to worry. Even if what the Sweeneys say is true, You’ll always be beside us. Thank You so much, Lord, for bringing Hunter here when You did. One or more of us would’ve probably been killed if Hunter hadn’t been here to diffuse the situation. Thank You for Your obvious strength that coursed through Hunter in his time of weakness. Please continue to heal him and make him strong. And please keep pursuing the Sweeneys so their hearts turn away from the evil they’ve allowed to course through them to the goodness that is You, Lord. Amen.”
“Viola, why don’t you just try to sleep a bit, since you aren’t moving for a while. I know you were up all night caring for Hunter, and I’m sure you’re tired.”
Viola grunted in resignation. “If my other hand was free, I could at least do mending or knitting.”
“This is God’s provision for you to take a much-needed rest.” Beatrice laughed. “Besides, it’s not every day that you’re forced to snuggle up to a good-looking man who’s taken it upon himself to be your knight in shining armor. Take a rest. The work will still be there when he wakes up.”
“Fine, I’ll rest.” Viola huffed. “Though it goes against every grain of my body.”
Viola relaxed and closed her eyes. She figured resting her eyes couldn’t hurt, though a nap would be better. While Hunter’s arms around her warmed her like no blanket could, she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep.
Chapter 9
Hunter awoke to every inch of his body screaming to him in pain, but the screams faded to whispers by the pleasant touch of someone snuggled up next to him. He breathed as deeply as his busted ribs allowed and became enveloped with a sweet fragrance. Viola. He opened his eyes, raised his head, and wondered what miracle could’ve possibly happened to have Viola’s head resting upon his shoulder and fingers intertwined with his upon his chest. He loved that she was there but couldn’t imagine her just lying down and taking a nap in the middle of the day, curled up next to him, no less.
Everything came rushing back with clarity, focusing his mind to assess the situation. He noticed his guns on the table, surprised the women had gotten them from his hands. Something that smelled delicious bubbled on the stove. Other than that, the place was calm and quiet, except for the soft breaths coming from Viola.
The door opened, and Hunter tightened his embrace around Viola, preparing to protect her against an intruder. Beatrice came in and smirked toward him. She carried an armful of wood, setting it onto the stack next to the stove.
She drew near and whispered, “Glad to see you’re up.”
“What happened?” he whispered back.
“Pure loco, but after the Sweeneys left, you took about three steps then fell like a chopped tree.” Beatrice chuckled showing him with her arm how he fell, sound effects and all. “Somehow, you kept from squishing Viola flat. However, you pinned her dress under you.”
“How’d you get the guns from me?”
“Oh, there was no problem taking your guns from you. You gave those up right quick,” Beatrice said in mock disgust. “Getting Viola from you, now that was a different story.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, every time we tried to get Viola up, you’d pull her in tighter than a bear with a fresh kill.” Beatrice laughed. “She’d roll away. You’d pull her back. I put my hand between you to pull her dress free, and you pulled her so tight to your side that my hand got stuck and went numb. Every time, you’d mumble some nonsense about keeping her safe.”
Hunter’s face heated in embarrassment. He hadn’t blushed since high school. This place was crazy. He had to get back to his time before he turned soft. Freely giving up his weapons. The Unit would disown him for sure.
“It wasn’t nonsense,” Viola spoke as she shifted to look into his face, and all thoughts of getting back to the future vanished. “I thought it was chivalrous.”
Beatrice rolled her eyes and moved to the stove. Hunter stared into Viola’s emerald eyes and just about drowned. How she found him chivalrous when he kept fainting like those silly goats he’d seen on YouTube was beyond him, but he’d prove himself to her one way or another.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he whispered, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand.
“No. It was a shock, falling like that.” Viola sat up, pulling the sleeves of her dress down. “But you kept me tight to your chest and took the brunt of it, I’m afraid.”
“Good, that’s good,” Hunter said, unable to pull his gaze from her face.
“If you two laze-abouts are done gazing into each other's eyes or such nonsense, the stew’s done,” Beatrice said.
“Good. I’m starving,” he whispered, his voice husky.
Viola blushed a bright red. Hunter smiled, reaching to still her hand that picked at her sleeve. She shivered, the blush deepening.
Viola tried to concentrate on eating the stew, but she couldn’t get the look Hunter had given her out of her mind. Like he was starving, but not for stew. He appeared as if he was starving for her, but that was ridiculous.
“Viola, you feeling okay? You’re looking a little flushed.” Beatrice stared at her with concern.
Viola glanced at Hunter, noticing he smirked at her knowingly. She glanced down at her stew and took a big bite. Darn that man and her body’s infuriating reactions.
“It’s good that you’re well enough to eat at the table.” She tried to redirect the conversation.
“I need to get out of that bed as much as I can,” Hunter said, digging into his second bowl of stew with relish. “I still have a long way to one-hundred percent, but I want to be up and about when I can be.”
“We’ll need to change your dressings after we eat,” Viola said.
Hunter nodded as he shoveled another spoonful into his mouth. They sat in silence as they finished their meal. Hunter ate the entire bowl and cleaned up the bowl with his bread.
“This is by far the best grub I’ve had in years,” Hunter said as he put the last bite of bread in his mouth. “If this is how we eat all the time here, I’ll be fat before you know it.”
Beatrice shook her head in amusement. “There’s too much work to do to get fat. If you don’t eat hearty for the work you are doing, you end up starved and bitter like the Sweeneys.”
“What’s their story, anyway?” Hunter asked, leaning his elbows onto the table.
“They came out here about three falls ago, slapped up a shack, and started bragging to everyone how they were gonna make it rich in mining. Well, I guess Linc bragged,” Beatrice said, playing with her coffee cup on the table. “Just about froze to death that first winter, and best anyone can tell, found nothing that first summer. It doesn’t seem they did much mining at all, the lazy coots. Simply stay in that shack when they aren’t lurking around.”
“What do you mean ‘lurking around’?” A shiver ran down Hunter’s back.
“Well, at first it didn’t seem like much,” Viola answered. “Pa and Orlando started noticing tracks where they’d been or would catch glimpses of one or two of the Sweeneys in the woods. They wondered at first if it was a coincidence, that possibly they were prospecting in the same areas Pa and Orlando were going. But it became obvious it was more than that.”
“Yeah, I’d call stalking ‘more,’” Beatrice said with contempt.
“They were stalking your Pa and Orlando?” Hunter tried to understand the Sweeney’s motives.
“Those idiots thought they could best Pa and Orlando by sneaking around.” Beatrice snorted. “Once they figured out what those skunks were up to, they lost them when they wanted to.”
“What’s Linc’s obsession with you?” Hunter asked Viola.
She shrugged, but Beatrice answered before she did. “He’s been eyeing her for the last two years, ever since we first met them at the trading post, remember?”
Viola nodded and shivered at the memory of Linc taking her hand in his and declaring she was the prettiest woman ever to grace the earth. His hands
had been cold and sweaty, and he’d had a gleam in his eyes that made her feel filthy. Pa had shown up at that moment and led her away, warning her to avoid the Sweeneys at all cost. Her fingers turned cold at the memory, and she cupped her coffee in her hands, hoping it’d help warmth to return. Hunter narrowed his eyes at her.
“Has he ever done anything like he did today before?” Hunter asked, his eyes intense upon her face. “Or made his intentions known regarding you?”
“I’ve hardly spoken a word to him or his brothers in the last two years,” Viola answered. “I did not give him any indication that I’d be interested in furthering our acquaintance.”
“After we all noticed his attention directed toward Viola, Pa and Orlando made sure he didn’t have any opportunity to be chatty with her,” Beatrice added.
Hunter sat quiet for a minute, twisting his mug back and forth on the table. He stared into the cup, his face deep in thought, so she got up to clear the table while he contemplated. When the table was clear and the dishes were soaking in the sink, she refilled everyone’s coffee and sat down.
“What I want to know is what your family has that he wants?” Hunter asked, looking from Beatrice to Viola. “It’s obvious this goes beyond some messed up stalker obsession with you, since you say that they spend all their time following your dad and brother. If it was simply you he wanted, they would’ve been hanging around here, where I’m assuming you stay most of the time, not trekking all over the mountains.”
Viola shook her head in concentration, then gasped when she considered that the Sweeneys might know about her family’s mine. “No. They can’t know.”
“It’s not possible,” Beatrice said with ease. “They aren’t smart enough.”
“What’s not possible?” Hunter asked, looking between Viola and Beatrice.
“But what if they did?” Viola asked.
“I’m telling you,” Beatrice said, “they just aren’t that smart.”
Vestige of Hope Page 9
