Robertson was fuming. His grip tightened on the pistol causing Dylan to stop moving toward him. “Yes, I loved her, but she didn’t return those feelings.” He stooped down and peered into Lacy’s face. “For what it’s worth I’ll always love you.” He kissed her on the cheek causing her to flinch. “It’s not easy to kill someone, especially someone you love. Yet, I can’t let you live. You will always haunt me.”
Dylan’s blood froze knowing Robertson intended to kill Lacy. “It’s not too late to let Lacy go. She doesn’t deserve your anger.” He couldn’t refrain as his gaze shifted to Lacy. Tears were flowing over her beautiful cheeks. “Let’s sit down and talk man to man. Leave her out of this.”
“I don’t have time to have a conversation. I escaped prison with an agenda. Before I disappear I will kill you and Lacy.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t live a peaceful life until both of you are dead.”
In a soft whisper, Lacy whimpered, “You told me you were not a murderer.”
“Prison changes a man. Months of rage has made me bitter.” Robertson stared into Dylan’s eyes. “Tell your girlfriend good-bye.”
“No!” Dylan bolted forward. Robertson turned the gun toward him and aimed. The last thing he heard was Lacy’s scream as the bullet caught him in the chest. The impact flung him flat on his back. Ears ringing, he lifted his head, looked at his chest but didn’t see any blood. His vest had saved him, for the moment anyway. Stunned and breathless, Dylan tried to suck in air.
Robertson moved toward him and aimed the gun at his head. Dylan kicked out knocking him off his feet. He hit the floor hard. The pistol went flying across the floor. Dylan didn’t have time to worry about the man behind him. At the moment he had his hands full with Robertson. Chest hurting like hell, Dylan clawed his way to the pistol. A shot rang out behind him. The moment his hand touched the pistol, he twisted around in time to see Robertson’s man fall face first to the floor. Blood stained the back of his shirt.
Lacy screamed, “Behind you!”
Stan turned and fired his pistol shooting another man when he stepped from the shadows. Just as Dylan had suspected, someone had been watching him.
Time stopped to a crawl when Dylan swung around to take out Robertson only to find him with a pistol to Lacy’s head. “Drop your guns!”
Immediately, Dylan dropped the pistol he held in his hand. Hands high in the air, he shifted a quick glance at Stan. Still holding his pistol, he refused to relinquish his weapon. “Now!”
Robertson was busy untying Lacy with his free hand. When she was free, he wrapped his arm around her neck and pulled her to her feet. “Last chance to drop your weapon!” He aimed the weapon at Stan and pulled the trigger. Stan dropped and quickly rolled across the dirty floor. Hands gripping Robertson’s arm, Lacy bit into his arm. Screaming in pain, he released his hold on her enough for her to jerk away and run toward Dylan.
Dylan shoved her to the floor. “Stay down!”
Racing forward he tackled Robertson by the legs. Blow after blow, Dylan pounded his face with his fists. Hate and anger poured from him. He wouldn’t stop until Robertson was dead. Blood seeped from his mouth, his nose. Still, he assaulted Robertson even when he no longer moved or was a threat.
Strong arms wrapped around his chest and pulled. He shoved Stan off his back because his anger was out of control. Lacy was at his side. “Stop, Dylan. Please stop.”
He rolled onto his back breathing heavily. Lacy fell across his chest crying uncontrollably. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “I love you.” He cupped her cheeks and lifted her face. Her cheeks were pale, her eyes still closed tight. He pulled her to his chest and felt the violent beats of her heart. Then her eyes opened wide, wild, terrified. She began to struggle in his arms. He stroked his hands up and down her back until she stopped struggling. “It’s over, Lacy. You are safe.”
Steadier, she let him engulf her in his arms. Peering over her head at Stan, Dylan replied, “There is another man. Scott said three men kidnapped Lacy.”
She blew out a long breath. “He is dead. Bret killed him.” She placed her hand over his chest and whispered softly, “Your heart is beating faster than mine.”
“That is because I love you.” He pulled her to stand, pushed her at arm’s length and gazed into her face. “I thought I had lost you.”
Stan checked the bodies of Robertson’s two men. Both were dead. “How’d you know where I was going?”
“I saw you leave and followed you. After you got into the red Honda, I lost you for a while. I commandeered a vehicle from a man at a convenience store and caught up with you in time to see you pull onto Raven Street. I knew it was a dead end so I waited a few minutes and followed the road until I came to the abandoned building. I knew you had to be inside.”
“Thanks man. You saved our lives.”
Lacy hugged Stan. “Thank you.”
“All in a day’s work.” He patted her on the back. Sirens could be heard in the distance. “I called for backup.”
In seconds the building was overrun with FBI agents and cops. Josh pushed his way into the crowded room looking for Lacy. She ran and jumped into his arms. “Are you okay?”
“I’m pretty shaken up, but I’m okay. It was horrible. Bret was going to kill me.”
Dylan could almost swear he saw a hint of a smile on Josh’s face when he saw Robertson’s bloody body. Now they were free. The man that had caused them so much torment and pain would never bother them again. He would be spending the rest of his life in a maximum security prison.
Chapter Nineteen
It was a hot, sultry evening for a wedding. A huge, orange sun rested over the top of the waterfall causing the water to glisten as it spilled over the rocks. Splashes of colorful wildflowers blossomed from the rocks and along the riverbank. Shadows encroached from the surrounding oak, pine, and poplar trees as the evening began to fade. In another thirty minutes, the sun would fall behind the waterfall leaving them in the shade and the temperature would drop several degrees. Lacy sat on the rocks taking in the scene. She had chosen to have their wedding late in the day so it wouldn’t be so hot, but it was still uncomfortable.
She peered into the clear water. Thankfully, she didn’t see any blood. Just maybe tragedy was a thing of their past. Out of habit, she twirled the ring on her left hand, but this time it was the diamond engagement ring Dylan had slipped on her finger a week after she had been abducted. A deep sigh escaped her lips. The sound of the water spilling over the rocks was soothing to her frayed nerves.
“Are you glad he is dead?” Dylan propped his elbow against the rocks, leaning in close. The top three buttons on his starched, white shirt were unbuttoned. They had chosen to have a casual wedding, so he was wearing khaki pants.
She could still hear Bret shouting when Tate was putting him in the back of a FBI car. Tate was reading Bret his Miranda rights when he stared directly into her eyes and swore he would get revenge. Swore she and Dylan would not survive a week. The anger on his swollen, bleeding face caused pure fear in her heart.
She reached over and ran her fingers through his thick hair. “I think I am.” Because of her religion, it wasn’t easy to say it out loud. In fact, guilt stabbed at her heart. She shouldn’t feel hate, but then she was only human.
Yesterday they received a call from Tate. Someone had killed Bret Robertson in his cell. They found him with a knife in his back. Earlier in the day, he had a violent argument with another inmate already serving life for murder. The guards suspect he found a way to get into Bret’s cell and killed him. The inmate had nothing to lose since he was already serving life for murder. “I’m glad he is out of our lives.”
“You know I’m not responsible.”
She cupped her hand to his cheek. “I know. You promised you wouldn’t kill him. I trust you.”
He took her hand and kissed the inside of her palm. “I keep my promises.”
“I consider it a wedding gift from God.” She didn’t admi
t that she had been looking over her shoulder for the last month, worried Bret would find a way to act on his threat. Now she could continue with her life and stop worrying. Maybe it was divine intervention.
He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost six o’clock. Are you ready to get married?”
Her eyes gazed at her family and friends enjoying the beautiful evening. Michelle and Scott were having a conversation with his parents. Elijah said something and they all laughed. They seemed so happy. Michelle had finally relented and moved in with Scott. She had the feeling they’d be planning another wedding in the near future.
Stan and Molly were trying to keep their rambunctious children out of the river. Juan was taking pictures of the children. Andrew, the youngest, stumbled on chubby legs falling in the thick, green grass. Alice, the oldest, helped him to stand. Their laughter floated over Lacy. She hoped she and Dylan had a house full of children.
Nina, Grant, Beth, and Josh were having a conversation with Grace and Richard. Since Grant seemed to be doing the most talking, it was probably about the farm. The people who were dear to her heart were going to be part of the happiest day of her life. “Yes, I’m ready.”
He placed his hands around her waist, lifting her from the rock. “You look beautiful. I love that dress.” She slid down his long, hard body. “Let me guess. It belonged to your mother.”
“No, my mother didn’t wear white. She preferred black and bright colors.” Nina and Beth helped her find the perfect dress for her special day. It was the first dress she had bought in a year. She liked wearing her mother’s clothes. It was if a part of her was with her. Today it was the red shoes on her feet. Her mother loved red.
“Thank you. You look very nice.” She tugged on his collar before she brushed her lips against his.
Pastor Hancock and Maria were standing under the grapevine canopy where they were going to say their vows. Ribbons of white had been twined through the twisted wood. She and Dylan held hands as they moved toward them. “We’re ready.”
Pastor Hancock opened his Bible where he kept the marital vows. “Will everyone please take their places?”
Lacy moved to the end of the white carpet rolled out for the ceremony where Grant and Josh joined her. Each tucked their arms into hers. Everyone took their places, and even the rowdy children became quiet. Nina, Beth, and Michelle wore short, sleeveless, peach colored dresses. By Dylan’s side, Stan stood as best man.
Juan pressed play on the CD player before he began snapping pictures of her standing between Grant and Josh. The wedding march blared loudly as she gazed at her husband-to-be. Something caught her eye. She peered at the top of the falls to find Hilda watching. Gone was the green bloody dress, and she was shrouded in white. The black of her hair was a stark contrast to the white, flowing dress. Instead of pain on her face, she seemed to be smiling down on her.
Grant gave her arm a gentle tug. “Are you okay?”
A huge smile on her face, she replied, “I’ve never been better.”
Turn the page to read the first chapter of Love Me Again. The First Book in the Sutton and McDonald four book series.
Prologue
January 1841
Just shy of midnight, a shadow hurried through the dark forest clutching a tiny bundle to her bosom. Trees with black, empty branches seemed to reach out to grab her in her haste to flee from the riders who had forced her to brave the scary woods. The thin moonlight sparkled in the snow under her feet as it filtered through the naked trees. Damp, snapping wind tore at her cloak which she pulled tighter to ward off the cold. Fright tore at her heart as she heard the hoof beats of the three horsemen as their mounts galloped over the snow packed road. Immediately, she dropped down in the cold, wet snow covering the small child with her body. Fear gripped her as they stopped mere feet from where she lay. They were so close she was scared they would hear her panting for breath.
She almost laughed at herself for hiding her precious bundle. If they found her, they would also find the baby. Even though she was almost afraid to look, she glanced up in time to see their coats flapping in the wicked wind. No more than shadows of the night, they listened for any sound that may give away her hiding place. Her stomach was in knots as she prayed to God to keep the child quiet. Relief washed over her as the riders rode on, unable to see her lying in the woods at the edge of the road. Waiting until they were out of sight, she forced herself off the frozen ground even though her body was begging for rest.
Silver-tipped clouds scudded across the darkness of the sky, blocking out what little moonlight she had been using to light her way. Panic almost took over when a screech owl hooted from one of the barren trees close by. It sounded like a woman screaming in agony. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. She whispered softly as she peered into the bitter, dark sky, “Please, God, help me.”
As if God heard her prayer, the clouds vaporized leaving her enough light to continue her journey. Some of her fear evaporated feeling God was with her. Knowing that at any moment her pursuers might back track, she decided to venture farther into the forest instead of traveling the road.
When she felt the baby squirm, she lifted the corner of the blanket and peered into its perfect little face. She began to rock the baby in her arms and whisper, “Shhh, go back to sleep my sweet.” Thankfully, the child was silent as she continued to trudge through the fallen snow.
She had no idea how long she had been walking. It seemed like days, but in reality it had only been a few hours. As she stepped out of the forest into a clearing, she saw the light from a small farm house in the distance. She knew she would not be able to carry the child much longer without collapsing. She took a painful breath, fighting the wind, fighting the weakness. Her hands were already so cold they were becoming numb. The snowflakes began a fresh and made it difficult for her to see the small house as they swirled around her. Making her way to the porch, she laid her tiny bundle in front of the door. With hands that trembled, she peeled back the blanket for one last look at the exquisite little face that had stolen her heart.
“I’ll never forget you.” Tears streamed down her frozen cheeks as she turned and ran away.
Chapter One
Spring 1859
“Come on, Lou. I need enough milk to make butter.” Abby gave the black and white spotted cow a gentle pat. She squeezed Lou’s teats one more time causing another loud protest. Huge chocolate-brown eyes peering at her caused Abby to feel guilty. “It’s okay, Lou. I guess that’s all you have this morning.”
It had been a long winter, and Abby hoped Lou would provide more milk now that spring’s green grass was finally sprouting up from the earth. Their supply of hay was dwindling so Abby had no other choice but to cut back on Lou’s portion, and without nourishment she could not provide enough milk.
Between her father and brother’s huge appetites, one gallon of milk would not suffice, especially since she planned to make butter today. Knowing her father would admonish her for not being grateful for what God provided, she pushed her selfish thoughts out of her mind. She would have to churn the cream into butter, so she walked to the house with the bucket, being extremely careful not to spill one precious drop. Dawn was just beginning to break, but Abby had no time to stop and enjoy the beauty of the morning.
She sat the bucket to the side so the cream could rise to the top of the fresh milk. Then she began preparing breakfast for her father and brother who would need nourishment before they started their grueling day in the fields.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
Abby smiled at her brother Nick as he kissed her cheek. It amazed her how he was always so chipper in the morning, especially when he had put in a late night making repairs on their dilapidated old barn. Two days ago a terrible storm blew through and damaged the roof. “I hope you slept well.”
Nick growled, lifting Abby off her feet. “Like a bear.”
Abby giggled, and pushed at him. “I don’t have time for your nonsense. Set the table, pleas
e.” She carried the bacon, eggs, and biscuits to the table while Nick grabbed three plates from the cabinet. They chatted in low voices waiting patiently for their father. The moment he sat at the table, he took their hands and all three bowed their heads.
Dear God,
Thank you for all your blessings. You have given us this bounty before us and may it nourish our bodies and minds. Help us to follow your path today, Lord, Amen.
In a stern voice, her father asked, “Abby, have you read your Bible this morning?”
Abby put her fork down and looked at her father as blood rushed to her cheeks. “No Father, I have to admit I was a little lazy this morning and did not rise early enough. I promise as soon as I finish my chores I will read.” Distress came into Abby’s eyes. She hated when her father admonished her. She could see the disappointment in his face. Every morning she woke before dawn to milk Lou and prepare their breakfast. Yet he expected her to wake even earlier, and read God’s word before she started her chores. An extremely disciplined man, he expected the same from her.
The rest of the meal Abby remained silent. Her father and Nick talked about the seed they would need to get in the ground so they would have enough food for the winter. Because of the storm, they lost a bag of seed stored in the barn and did not have enough money to buy more.
Abby’s thoughts turned to her mother. Oh, how she missed her. Martha Henley had been a gentle woman who had nothing but kindness in her heart. Since her mother’s death her father changed, becoming more abrasive. Her father had loved her mother desperately and her death left him bitter. It seemed no matter how hard Abby tried, she could not please him.
If not for Nick’s energy and love for life, there would be very little happiness in their home.
Blood of the Falls (Twelve Oaks Farm Book 4) Page 26
