Spirit of the Valley

by Jane Shoup

  Ethan, that son of a jackal, had done a number on her. Her face was swollen and bloody, blood had seeped from one ear and matted in her hair, but glancing around the room at the toppled furniture and broken dishes, she knew the amount of blood on the floor could not be from Lizzie alone. It just couldn’t be.

  April May heard a man’s voice and looked out the open back door before rising and striding to the door, gun at the ready.

  Jeremy and Ethan were in the yard. Ethan was on the ground but trying to rise. Jeremy was standing over him with clenched fists at his sides. Jeremy’s back was to her, so she didn’t know what blows he’d sustained, but it was evident Ethan Ray had taken a good deal of punishment. Ray glowered at Jeremy as he made it to his knees.

  “I’m here,” April May said quietly.

  Jeremy turned his head slightly at the sound of her voice, which was the distraction Ethan needed. He drew his gun. Before April May could cry out in warning, Jeremy drew and fired a split second before Ethan’s gun went off.

  Ethan jerked and fell back with a yell while Jeremy remained on his feet. April May dashed out to make sure he wasn’t hit. He wasn’t. Ethan’s gun was on the ground and he was writhing in pain. Jeremy stared at the man with loathing in his eyes, as if he wanted to do nothing more than shoot him again. And maybe again and again. “You got him,” she said.

  He slowly lowered his gun. “Lizzie—”

  “I’ll see to her. She’ll be all right. You best see to him.”

  They stepped closer to the man, close enough to see he’d taken the bullet in the torso.

  “Can’t breathe,” Ray grunted.

  “Get him to the doc,” April May said dispassionately.

  “So he can come back here and hurt her again?” Jeremy asked, scowling down at the injured man.

  “He tried to kill her and he tried to kill you, too. At the very least, he’s going to jail. And Lizzie can divorce him before he goes off to jail.”

  Jeremy considered a few moments and then holstered his gun. He whistled for Dancer, who came running.

  “Want me to watch him while you saddle up?” April May asked, still watching Ethan suspiciously.

  “No. Don’t need to.” He hauled Ethan Ray up and over his shoulder before unceremoniously hoisting him over the horse. Ignoring the stream of grunted complaints and obscenities, Jeremy mounted behind the man and looked at April May, needing to say something more.

  “I’ll take care of her,” she pledged.

  He nodded meaningfully and rode away.

  Lizzie had come to and was attempting to rise when April May got back inside. “Ho, there. Stay down a minute.”

  “Jake,” Lizzie moaned. “Where’s Jake?”

  “The children are fine, but you are damn sure not, my girl, so lie still.” April May set the shotgun aside and grabbed towels, stepping over puddles of blood on the floor. She dampened a towel and went back to Lizzie.

  “Ethan. He’s here.”

  “I know, honey. The children told us.”

  Lizzie frowned in confusion. “What? How—”

  “Lucky sensed him sneaking around and started growling,” April May explained as she gently pressed the towel to the cut on Lizzie’s cheek. “Animals sense danger. They sense evil, too. Because of Lucky, Jake saw Ethan and ducked into his fort. Then when Ethan went into the house, Jake ran for you. He climbed up and looked in the kitchen window and . . . saw you on the floor.”

  “Oh no.”

  “It’s all right. The little man did just what he should have done. He ran and got Rebecca, who was coming home, and the two of them lit out after Jeremy.”

  “Jeremy?”

  “He was close, headed home from town, and he told the children to come to us.” Lizzie looked close to passing out again and April May hesitated, wondering whether it was better to let her be or to keep her awake. “I’m going to get you some wine.”

  “Jeremy?” Lizzie murmured again.

  April May got up and fetched a glass of wine, then helped Lizzie to sit, propping her against the cupboard before bringing the glass to her lips and urging her to drink.

  “Where?” Lizzie said weakly, pushing the glass away.

  “The children are at our house. They’re safe. I’m not so sure about Ethan.”

  “Wha . . . what do you mean?”

  “Take a drink.”

  Lizzie took a swallow.

  “Jeremy got here, saw what Ethan had done, and they fought. Ethan got the worst of it, which is just as it ought to be. He drew on Jeremy, but Jeremy shot first. I was a witness to that part. Anyway, Jeremy has taken him into town. He’ll go to the doctor first and to the sheriff second. I’m not a hundred percent sure Ethan will live, but if he does, he ought to be going off to jail.”

  “Lizzie!” a woman called from outside.

  April May didn’t recognize the voice, and Lizzie looked every bit as perplexed. April May set the glass aside and hurried out the back door as Marie rounded the house. The dark-haired beauty looked shaky on her feet and one shoulder was covered in blood. “Lord have mercy,” April May exclaimed as she hurried toward her. “What happened to you?”

  “It was that Mr. Ray.”

  April May wrapped an arm around her and felt how unsteady she was. A good, strong wind would knock her over. “We know,” she replied grimly. “He’s been here.”

  Marie made a whimper and started to cry. “It’s all my fault.”

  April May had no idea what she was talking about, but there would be time enough to work out the details. She helped Marie inside and into a chair, and examined her head. “Ethan Ray did this to you?”

  Marie looked at Lizzie with an expression of profound regret. “I was coming to warn you.”

  April May went for another towel, wet it, and brought it back to clean Marie’s wound and determine whether stitches would be needed. Fortunately, though there was quite a lump, the bleeding had mostly stopped. She fetched a glass of wine and brought it to the girl. “Drink. And then tell me how the Sam Hill you know about Ethan Ray.” Marie cringed at a sudden pain and swayed. April May braced her. “Steady, there. Come on now, drink.”

  Marie drank and leaned against April May, dizzy and weak. “Some woman came to town a few weeks ago,” Marie said. “Looking for Lizzie. I don’t know who she was.”

  April May glanced at Lizzie, who was watching Marie with bafflement and great intensity.

  “The woman . . . sent a telegram,” Marie said. “It said—” She closed her eyes, trying to recall exactly what had been relayed. “‘Subject located. Going by name of Carter. You’ll find her at the Greenway place east of town.’” She opened her eyes and tears rolled down her face as she straightened in her chair. “Someone who was in the telegraph office that day told me,” she said brokenly.

  “That fool Bart,” April May said accusingly, stepping back from Marie. “Wasn’t it?”

  Marie nodded slowly.

  “That boy’s not worth a diddly squat.”

  “I should have told you right away,” Marie said to Lizzie. “I should have told Jeremy.”

  Although pain was throbbing in Lizzie’s head, a strange elation surged, making it difficult to breathe. He hadn’t betrayed her. Jeremy hadn’t betrayed her. But hadn’t Marie claimed he had? “You said . . . Jeremy told you about me.”

  “That he loved you,” Marie said. “I saw the way he looked at you, so I asked him. And he told me. I felt crushed inside. I wanted to hate him. I wanted to hate you. I really didn’t. It’s just that I—”

  “You’ve been in love with Jeremy your whole life,” April May said with surprising gentleness.

  Lizzie squeezed her eyes shut because what she’d thought was shameful. Jeremy hadn’t betrayed her. He would never betray her, but how quickly she’d believed it.

  “Where did he go?” Marie asked dazedly. “Did he take the children?”

  “No,” April May replied. “Jeremy got here and Ethan ended up shot. Jeremy’s taken him to
town. He’s not dead, although I wish I’d shot him dead. A snake in the grass like that—”

  Lizzie opened her eyes, horrified by the sudden fear of Ethan somehow getting the better of Jeremy.

  “Now, you listen to me,” April May said, seeing Lizzie’s expression. “Jeremy will be all right. He’s a man who knows how to take care of himself.”

  “You don’t understand,” Lizzie said. “Ethan is—”

  “He’s a damn coward who beats on a woman and doesn’t think a thing of hitting his own child. I know exactly what he is.”

  Lizzie began crying. “I d-didn’t see him. If only I’d seen him. I . . . I b-bought a gun.”

  “Shh,” April May said, going to her. She got down on the floor and wrapped her arms around Lizzie. “It’s going to be all right. You’ll see. We’re going to get you cleaned up and into bed.” Lizzie clung to her, trembling, so April May held her, patting gently. “Everything is going to be all right. You weren’t sent here and given the protection of people who love you for no reason. Isn’t that right, Marie?”

  Marie rose and came to join them on the floor, also crying, and so April May wrapped an arm around her, too. “Shh, now. We’re all going to be all right.”

  Jeremy rode back to the cottage feeling strange and numb. Ethan Ray was dead. He’d died before Jeremy reached town. The sheriff had listened to Jeremy’s story and taken possession of the body, and he’d told Jeremy to go. “For now,” he’d said grimly.

  Everything had happened so fast, it was hard to wrap his head around it. Ethan was dead, and judging from the accusing look on the sheriff’s face, he was probably going to be arrested, tried, and hanged. Because he’d killed before. Because he was a murderer. He wasn’t a family man, he was a murderer. When the noose went around his neck, would he have any final words to utter? “Shouldn’t have hurt her,” he muttered.

  Jenny’s sixteen-year-old face filled his mind and tears suddenly rolled down his face. Damn the tears. Let them come, he thought angrily. And damn Ted Landreth and Stan Thomas. They’d gotten what they’d deserved. And damn Ethan Ray. He’d gotten what he deserved, too. No, he wouldn’t have any final words. He didn’t regret anything except that he wouldn’t have a life with Lizzie and the kids.

  A memory rushed back at him so sharp and so clear, his breath caught and he stiffened enough that Dancer halted. The lake on a misty, gray morning. He’d gone looking for Jenny when she wasn’t in her room. She wasn’t in the outhouse and she wasn’t in the yard or on the porch. He yelled her name and went in search, then froze abruptly when he saw something in the water. In one terrible second, he recognized it was a woman with dark hair, and he rushed into the water, knowing it was his sister. On the bank, he held her lifeless body and cried as he had never cried before. Over and over again he called her name. She was gone, long gone, but he couldn’t stop saying her name.

  He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the painful memory. He wiped his face with both hands and rode on.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Lizzie woke in the pitch dark, mentally and emotionally dulled from the beating, wine, and the headache powder she’d consumed. She’d been in so much pain earlier, she hadn’t expected to sleep, but she had. Now, disoriented and laden with fear, she began to rise until a wave of nausea engulfed her and she had to wait for it to pass. When it did, she lit the lamp and got up. One hand outstretched, pausing often to catch her breath, she made her way to the children’s room, but they weren’t there. Because they are with Cessie and April May, she remembered. They were safe. Unless Ethan was still lurking somewhere.

  She noticed the light from the kitchen. Her heart began beating harder as she made her way there. Just as she’d hoped and prayed, Jeremy was sitting in his place with his back to her. A piece of paper and pencil were in front of him, as if he was prepared to write a letter. “You’re here,” she uttered.

  “I killed him,” he stated in a flat voice without turning to look at her.

  She exhaled with relief and continued to the table. She pulled back a chair and sat, but Jeremy wasn’t looking at her. He was staring straight ahead, glassy eyed and expressionless. She felt shaken in a different way, and certainly not because Ethan was dead. Perhaps she’d be damned to hell for it, but it was a great relief. If he weren’t dead, she would be. It was only a question of when. The fear she felt was because of the way Jeremy looked. Somehow she’d lost him. He’d saved her, but was lost because of it. “I’m sorry,” she said in a shaky whisper. “It was my fault.”

  He looked at her and cringed to see her face, but then his expression grew angry. “Why do you say that? None of it was your fault. Men . . . stinking, rotten, violent men. It’s their fault! A man hurt you, so he’s to blame. I just killed the son of a bitch, so I’m to blame. You are not to blame. And Jenny wasn’t to blame, although I was angry at her for a long time.” He bowed his head. “Oh God, Lizzie, I have to go.”

  She gripped the table and yet she still reeled. “What do you mean, go?” she asked breathlessly. “Go where?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered.

  She shook her head, even though it hurt, and she clutched his hand. “No! I won’t let you go.”

  He looked at her with remorse. “It’ll be better for everyone.”

  “That’s not true. Please. I’m sorry for what happened. I thought . . . I’d have some warning. I bought a gun. I was going to protect myself and the children, but . . . I didn’t know he was there until—”

  He withdrew his hand from her grip. “You’re going to be fine now. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

  Panic clawed her insides. “I won’t be fine if you leave!”

  “I don’t belong here.”

  His calmness made her feel like screaming. “Yes, you do. We were happy.”

  “The truth is, I’m a murderer. You want a murderer around your children?”

  “You are not a murderer, and I want you. I love you!” Pain filled his eyes, but it was better than emptiness. Better than his determination to leave. “Please, love me enough to stay.”

  “Don’t you get it? It’s because I love you that I have to go. I don’t want you or the kids to have to live with seeing me hanged. I know you. You’ll blame yourself.”

  “You won’t be hanged,” she pleaded. “It was self-defense. April May saw it.”

  He shook his head. “Everyone knows she’d say or do anything to protect you. I can’t put you or the kids through it.”

  She was getting nowhere. His mind was made up. She was going to lose him. “I’ll follow you,” she declared. “We’ll follow you wherever you go.”

  “Stop it, Lizzie. Just stop it.”

  “I will,” she swore. “I won’t let you go.”

  “Your face,” he said, grieving.

  She knew she looked atrocious. She’d seen herself in the mirror earlier.

  “C’mon,” he said, rising. “You need to go lie down.”

  “No.” If she went back to sleep now, he’d be gone when she awoke. The only man she’d ever loved or ever would love would be gone. “You want to convince me you’re not a good man, but you’re the man who showed up on a rainy evening offering to help me.”

  “Because I couldn’t get you out of my mind, not from the first time I saw you. I wanted to make love to you. More than anything. It’s all I thought about. Don’t go thinking I’m noble for showing up here.”

  He was slipping away. “You’re the man who got Jake back to sleep after his nightmare. The man he felt safe enough to talk to.”

  Jeremy flinched. “Don’t do that.”

  “The man who found Lucky for the kids. And who was so patient with Rebecca, even when she was unspeakably rude.”

  “She had reason.”

  “Yes, but you weren’t the reason. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” She reached for his hand and kissed it.

  “Lizzie, stop.”

  “I love you,” she said, looking up at him.<
br />
  “You shouldn’t.”

  There was so much pain in his face. “I know how you see yourself, but it’s not how I see you. I see a man with honor and strength and passion, a man who’d give his life to protect his family. To protect us. I want that protection. I want it for me, for Rebecca, Jake, and for all the children we will have.”

  He bowed his head and a shaky breath escaped him.

  “Don’t you want me? Don’t you want our children?”

  “Lizzie,” he breathed.

  She placed her hands on the sides of his face, loving him so much it hurt. “Look at me. Please. I want you to see what I feel.”

  He looked at her. “Just think about what it would do to the kids if—”

  She cut off his words by pressing a kiss to his lips. Pulling back, she said, “We are going to be fine. We’re going to have a life together.”

  He pulled her into his arms and they clung to one another with all their might. “It’s all I want,” he murmured. “It’s all I want.”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Jeremy walked to the Blues’ the next morning with a sense of peace he hadn’t known in years. The decision was made; he was marrying Lizzie, and together they would make their way. It was possible he would be arrested and tried, but he had shot Ray in self-defense. For now, he’d have faith. Faith in the love he’d found and faith in the truth. He’d lived without hope for a lot of years, but hope and faith felt good. The bakery, as it turned out, wanted Lizzie’s baked goods and her expertise, and she was glad about it. She had to heal first, but she was ready for the venture.

  As for him, his old life was gone. In fact, his old lives were gone. The men at the mine, some of them good friends, were gone. Even Marie was going, getting married to Walt Davis. He was glad for that. In the end, she’d tried to do the right thing, but the fact that she’d known Ethan Ray had been told of Lizzie’s whereabouts and had not warned him was hard to forgive. What if he hadn’t made the afternoon train? What if he hadn’t reached Lizzie in time? Had he known Ray had been alerted, he never would have left her in the first place. He didn’t wish Marie ill, but he was glad she was leaving.