Love Inspired Historical November 2015

by Linda Ford

  “How?” She spit out bits of straw that had gotten in her mouth. “He confiscated your gun.”

  The stench of kerosene clogged her nostrils as Lee reluctantly splashed the contents of the container around them. Their chances of escape were narrowing.

  Tears brimmed, blurring her vision. “I’m so sorry, Jess. This is my fault. I never should’ve started this.”

  Blinking fast, she gave her head a quick shake. “No, it’s not. I—I should’ve listened to you. I was stubborn—”

  Sudden movement cut her off. Lee hauled off and swung the canister at the other man’s head with all his might. But the swing was too short. He missed.

  A loud blast assaulted their ears. Jessica screamed as Lee crumpled to the ground.

  “Lee!” She scrambled on her knees to reach him. “No…”

  Jane watched in horror as an ever-widening circle of red dampened his chest.

  Farnsworth looked unrepentant. “Fool.”

  “Lee, please.” Hovering over him, tears dripped from Jess’s cheeks onto his. “Please don’t die. I love you. We can work this out. Together.”

  His face bleached, he lifted a shaky hand to her face. “I love you, too. I’m sorry…”

  “No, it’s okay…” Jerking up her head, she yelled at Farnsworth. “Help him! You have to—”

  “No help for him. You can thank yourself for that.” With a smirk, he eyed the dying man with a cold, calculating stare. “Now you can watch your beloved die along with you.”

  The moment he pointed the gun at her twin, Jane’s decision to be brave clicked into place. She acted without hesitation.

  She lunged. Leaped between certain death and the sister she loved.

  Above the buzzing in her brain, she heard her twin’s horrified cry of protest.

  Then pain sliced into her, knocking her back. The knowledge of her failure sucked her into darkness, and she hit the ground with a jarring thud.

  *

  Jane woke to incredible pressure in her shoulder and searing, tissue-deep pain.

  Jessica was very close, sobbing.

  She drew in a breath and immediately started coughing. Smoke clogged her lungs.

  “Jane! I thought—” Shaking her head, Jess cried, “The barn’s on fire! We have to get out.”

  Blinking, eyes smarting, she started to sit up and realized the pressure was Jess’s bound hands on her wound. “Where’s Farnsworth?”

  “The gun jammed after he shot you,” she gasped, cheeks shiny with tears, hair a disheveled mass. “I couldn’t believe it…he started the fire and left. I don’t know if he’s coming back.” Glancing over her shoulder, she shuddered violently. “Lee’s dead.”

  They soon would be, too, if they didn’t act fast. “Can you untie me? Have to save the animals.”

  “But your wound—” She dissolved into a fit of coughing.

  “I think I can manage.”

  Unraveling the rope took up more precious seconds than they had to spare. Already Jane was growing light-headed, although from blood loss or the smoke she wasn’t sure. With her hands free, she struggled to her feet and lurched to the wall where their tools hung. She used a large knife to cut Jessica’s bonds.

  Shoulder throbbing, she choked out, “Get the rabbits. I’ll get the cow.”

  With her back to the door, Jessica hesitated. “I can’t leave Lee here.”

  “We’ll get him out. I promise.” Somehow, she’d find a way.

  A hand clamped down on her uninjured shoulder and spun her around. She found herself crushed against a broad chest.

  “Jane.” Tom groaned her name. “You’re okay. When I heard the commotion and the gunshot, I thought the worst.” A tremor rippled through his body before he pulled back. “You don’t have to worry about Lee’s associate.”

  “What did you do?”

  His jaw was like marble. “He won’t hurt you again.”

  “Can you help us with Lee?”

  Noticing the still form, his face grew grim. “I’ll get him. You two, out.”

  Ignoring him, Jane rushed past her motionless sister toward the stall housing their dairy cow. “Jess, the rabbits!” she called, gagging at the stench.

  It took all her waning strength to lead the frightened animal out. Outside, she dropped to her knees and, bracing her hands in the grass, gulped in fresh air. Tom had dragged Lee’s body out, and Jess sank down and took his limp hand between hers. Jane couldn’t bear to watch.

  Nausea rose up. She sucked in more air.

  Over near the horses, the silver-haired man lay unmoving, apparently unconscious. His lip was split, his right eye red and swollen shut.

  She was still staring at him when Tom reappeared with the hutch, soot and sweat streaked across his forehead. “He’s still alive,” he panted, balancing his palms on his knees. “I knocked him out.”

  When he uttered an exclamation of surprise mixed with horror, Jane jerked her head up. His brilliant gaze was locked on her wound. “You’re hurt.”

  *

  How could he have missed it?

  Fear shot anew through him, stronger than when she’d been on the horse with her captor, more devastating than when she’d been inside the barn, out of sight and at the mercy of a killer.

  Going on his knees before her, he very carefully lifted the hair tumbling about her shoulders and brushed it out of the way. A hiss slipped between his teeth as he gingerly peeled away the torn, blood-sodden material. The bullet had gouged the flesh where her neck curved into her shoulder. “You need a doctor.”

  Unlike Jane’s, his imagination didn’t normally work overtime. All he could think about now, however, was the possibility of infection.

  He touched her cheek. She was too pale, her eyes glassy.

  “It can wait.” Her fingers skimmed his wrist. “Tom, the barn. We can’t lose it.”

  “And I can’t lose you,” he growled, dipping his head to press a firm, swift kiss on her startled lips. He didn’t give her time to react. He could beg forgiveness later, explain it away as heightened emotions.

  Avoiding her perusal, he stood.

  “Jessica.” She looked at him through a shock-induced daze. “Take your sister inside and tend her injury.” She hung her head, her grip on Lee unwavering.

  Stalking over, he gently tipped her chin up. “You can’t help him now. Jane’s hurt. She needs you.”

  Jessica blinked, her focus slowly sharpening. She nodded, lovingly placing Lee’s hand on his unmoving stomach. Tom assisted her up, waiting until she and Jane were on the porch before sprinting to the well. Flames were shooting out of the barn door. On his own, he probably wouldn’t be able to save it. He could make sure the fire didn’t spread to any of the other buildings, though.

  Tom wasn’t sure how long he worked, lugging pails of water, using blankets to try and pound out the flames, before Caleb, Josh and Sam rode into the yard. Once assured the girls were out of harm’s way, they joined him and, together, managed to get the fire out.

  Josh slapped him on the back. Like Tom, his clothes stuck to him and sweat dampened his hair. “You look like death. Go get a drink of water.”

  “Later. I have to fetch the doctor.”

  “I’ll go,” Caleb piped up, already striding to his horse.

  “Bring back the sheriff,” Sam called to his son.

  Caleb lifted a hand in acknowledgment, vaulting into the saddle and disappearing down the lane. In the grass nearby, not far from where Lee’s blanket-shrouded body lay, the other man stirred. Tom went rigid. The amount of suffering he had caused both twins stirred fury to life once more.

  He took a step that direction. Josh blocked his way. “I’ll deal with him. You have more important matters to tend to.”

  Tom stared at him blankly.

  Brows lifted, he pointed to the cabin. “Jane?”

  “Not sure that’s a good idea right now.”

  “Why not?”

  “For one, I’m furious with her.” Furious and pro
ud. She’d squared off against evil in a bid to save her sister. And was nearly killed in the process.

  He could’ve lost her forever. The thought of a life without Jane sent rivers of raw grief surging through him.

  “You’re not the only one.” Josh sighed. “But when you love someone, you have to learn to work through it.”

  “I know.” His words sank in, and Tom whipped his head around. “Wait. What did you say?”

  “You love my cousin.” It was a statement, not a question. He looked smug…and pleased.

  Chest tightening painfully, Tom nodded.

  Josh smiled. “What are you doing out here with me, then?”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “I wish you hadn’t jumped in front of that gun.”

  Jane shifted against the pillows propping her up and hid a wince. “I’ll be fine, Jess.”

  Once they’d gotten her ruined blouse off and cleaned up the wound, they discovered that the bullet hadn’t lodged inside her body. No surgery for her. She might have to have stitches, and there might be an unsightly scar, but considering the other possible outcomes, she couldn’t be anything but grateful for God’s protection.

  Gazing into her sister’s wan, tear-ravaged face, she wished with all her soul that Lee could’ve been spared.

  She laid her hand over Jess’s. “I’m sorry about Lee. I regret so many things. Decisions I made. If I’d done things differently, maybe…” She bit her lip, blinking fast to block the moisture filling her eyes. The disturbing sight of his too-still body would be with her for a long, long time. “Maybe he would still be here.”

  “Don’t blame yourself.” Jess sucked in a hitched breath. “He made the wrong choices. And I knew—” she pressed a hand over her heart “—I knew something wasn’t right. I just couldn’t accept that he’d put what we had at risk.”

  Hurt and sorrow clung to Jessica like a shroud. Seeing her twin’s despair made her own problems seem paltry in comparison. Jane might not have the man she loved, but at least he was still walking around hale and hearty. She could see him, talk to him, adore him from afar.

  Jess didn’t have that luxury.

  “I love you.” Jane gave her cold fingers a light squeeze. “And I’m here for you. Whatever you need, you have it. Space. Privacy. A shoulder to cry on. Someone to yell at.”

  Looking as if she might shatter any second, Jess abruptly stood. “Love you, too, sis. I—I need to see him again.”

  “Jess, I’m not sure—”

  But she was already gone, her hurried footsteps receding. The main door opened but didn’t immediately close. Jane stared out the window at the seemingly innocent sunny day, wishing her view was of the front yard. She wondered if Tom had saved the barn. If he was okay. If he’d ever speak to her again.

  Beneath his concern, anger had churned in his beautiful green eyes. Anger at her foolhardy decisions and stubbornness.

  He couldn’t have been too angry. He kissed you, didn’t he? a voice prodded.

  A throat cleared, and Jane wrenched her head toward the doorway, heart tripping over itself like a too-eager puppy.

  Tom stood there, hands in his pockets, his presence solid and reassuring and a tiny bit unnerving. She couldn’t decipher the emotions on his soot-streaked face. Shifting uneasily, she gritted her teeth against the pain radiating from her wound.

  “If you’re here to lecture me, I wish you’d reconsider.”

  Pulling out his hands, he moved with sure grace to the chair beside her bed and lowered himself into it. The scent of smoke clung to his clothes.

  “I won’t subject you to what I’m thinking,” he said, grimacing. “I’m fairly certain you wouldn’t like it.”

  Grateful for the reprieve, she smoothed the quilt’s top edge. “The barn?”

  “The structure’s intact. The stalls will have to be rebuilt.” His gaze drifted to the thick bandage covering her injury, partly visible beneath the white dressing gown Jess had helped her don. “Your cousins and uncle arrived in time to pitch in. I couldn’t have saved it, otherwise.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Sometimes we can’t do things on our own. We have to have help.” His jaw went taut, and he abruptly shot to his feet. Jabbing a finger at the pitcher and washbowl in the corner, he said, “Do you mind?”

  “Uh, sure.”

  From beneath her lashes, Jane observed his stilted movements as he scrubbed his hands and arms. The corded muscles in his forearms bunched and stretched. Such strength. What she wouldn’t give to have him take her in his arms and refuse to let go.

  That all-too-brief kiss outside had turned her world upside down. He didn’t seem inclined to repeat it, however. Far from it.

  Tossing the towel aside, he prowled to the foot of her bed, hands curving around the footboard as he leveled a hard stare at her. “There’s something I don’t understand.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t understand why you went off alone.” His knuckles turned white. “Why you didn’t turn to me. Or your cousins. Anyone.”

  “I thought you agreed to wait to lecture me.”

  Pushing upward, he crossed his arms over his chest, the material straining over his muscles. His boots were planted wide. With his hair in disarray, his skin smudged and eyes burning a hole through her, he looked like an irate mountain man. “I changed my mind.”

  “There wasn’t time!” she said, raising off the pillow and instantly regretting it. “All I knew was that my sister was nowhere to be found and was most likely in danger. I didn’t think, Tom. Just acted.”

  “That’s right,” he bit out. “You didn’t think.” Coming around, he sank onto the mattress.

  Slowly, he lifted his hand and skimmed the tender skin above her bandage. Prickles of awareness skittered over her nape.

  The muscle in his jaw jumped. “You could’ve died today.”

  She resisted the pulsing drive to bury her head in his chest. Crumpled the quilt in her fists. “I’m still here,” she whispered.

  His fingers continued along the top of her bandage, not stopping when he encountered the soft cotton gown, the caress as light as a feather. “I thought we had the kind of relationship where we felt free to share anything with each other. I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other.”

  Jane’s mouth went dry. She’d never seen him in such a strange mood.

  “We’re friends, Tom.” The words hurt to say. “Not husband and wife.”

  He shrank back as if she’d struck him.

  “There are certain things we can’t and won’t share,” she said, insides writhing in protest.

  “Right.” His lips pressed together in a tight line. “Friends.”

  A loud rap on the main door echoed through the house. “Jane?”

  Tom’s lashes lowered to his cheeks. Standing, he crossed to the entrance of her room. “She’s back here, Doc.” He shot her a quick, unreadable look. “Get some rest, Jane.”

  When he left, the energy was sucked out of the room. Bruised and battered and empty, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever know true contentment again.

  *

  Tom didn’t visit her.

  Jane spotted him at the funeral, standing at the edge of the crowd. Her disappointment had been sharp when he left without speaking to either her or Jessica. That wasn’t like him.

  She couldn’t get their strange conversation out of her head. The intensity of that kiss, the emotion behind it…what did it mean, if anything? And the way he’d reacted when she’d pronounced they were just friends—he’d looked the way she’d felt all those times he’d uttered the same words. Maybe she’d been projecting her own dashed hopes onto him.

  After all, she’d been through a major ordeal. Her reasoning couldn’t be trusted. Could it?

  It took her four agonizing days to work up the nerve to go to him.

  A part of her was offended that he hadn’t deigned to check on her. A bigger part was terrified she’d pushed him away one too m
any times.

  Clutching the strap of her satchel, she climbed his cabin’s steps and went to knock on the door. It opened before she could do so. Clara barreled into her, small arms going around her legs in a tight grip.

  “I’ve missed you, too, sweetheart.” Smiling, she stroked the tight curls, her heart melting. She’d regretted not being around when Tom told her the news about her father. Seeing her made up for the long absence.

  Clara peeked from beneath long lashes. “Where have you been? I was sad without you!”

  “I wanted to see you, but there were things I had to take care of at home.”

  Wiping his hands on a towel, Tom didn’t appear in a hurry to greet her.

  “Hello, Jane.” He glanced at her neck, where the high collar of her dress covered the bandage and thin scars where Farnsworth had cut her. Concern flickered. “How are you feeling?”

  You’d know the answer to that if you’d bothered to come around, she wanted to retort.

  Clara inched backward, waiting for her answer.

  “Better.”

  “That’s good.”

  An awkward silence descended between them. Clara tugged on Tom’s trousers. “Can she eat with us?”

  His hesitation shook her wavering confidence. Be brave, Jane.

  “I’m not planning to stay long. I need but a moment of your time,” she told him, the leather satchel strap biting into her palm. Senses on high alert, she was shaky and short of breath, as if she’d run a grueling race through the mountains.

  “Of course.” Lobbing his towel onto the table, he addressed Clara. “Jane and I are going to be out here for a few minutes. I want you to stay inside and play with your dolls. Don’t go near the stove.”

  Her lower lip protruded in a pout. “Yes, sir.”

  Jane touched her arm. “I’ll come and see you before I go, okay?”

  “Okay.” Dejected, she shuffled inside.

  Tom closed the door behind her. Gesturing for her to go first, he said, “We can talk over by the stream.”

  Neither spoke as they crossed the grassy expanse. Jane wished he’d put his hand low on her back as he used to. Or take her arm. Or smile and say something silly.