by Merry Farmer
The world above the water had gone as silent as the one below by the time he pulled himself and Rebecca to the surface. His deep breath rang impossibly loud in his ears—as loud as the silence of Rebecca not breathing. With everything he had, he hauled her up onto the dock. It barely registered that Grover and the stranger reached down to help him or that Dr. Greene was running off. His whole being focused on Rebecca.
“Is she dead?” Grover asked, all traces of man giving way to frightened boy.
“No,” Thomas insisted.
She couldn’t be dead, even though her face was pale, her eyes were closed, and she wasn’t breathing. He wouldn’t let it end like this.
As Grover and the stranger looked on, he rolled Rebecca to her back, lifting her arms straight above her head. He brought them down to her sides, then raised them above her head again, then brought them to her sides. He’d seen the method work before. It had to work now. But Rebecca lay still and unbreathing, her lips tinged blue.
He continued to pump her arms, but something else had to be done. She had to breathe. He pressed on her chest in the wild hope that he could push the water out of her lungs. Nothing seemed to happen. Panic rose within him. He couldn’t let her die, not when he had finally found her. Years of seeking, of carrying around an empty heart, couldn’t end like this. She was the strength he needed to meet the unfairness of the world. She was the gentleness he needed to temper his fight.
“Do something!” Grover shouted above them.
“I’ll go for help,” the stranger said and dashed off.
“Mama!” Rachel cried. The girls had joined them on the dock. Nathan had picked up Helen and clutched her close.
He would not let Rebecca’s children see her die in front of them.
He raised and lowered her arms a few more times, growing desperate. If he couldn’t expel the water from her lungs, then perhaps he could get air into them. He leaned close and pressed his mouth to hers, as if to kiss her, and breathed into her. It did nothing. He tried again, then again, pushing on her chest to speed things along. It had to work. In his gut, in his heart, he knew it had to work.
She coughed. For a moment Thomas held his breath, they all held their breath. Then Rebecca gasped and sputtered and coughed as though she would tear her lungs from her body. Water spewed from her mouth and she curled to her side. The sight and sound of her retching and coughing was horrible, but it meant she was alive.
“Oh dear God, thank you!” Thomas choked on the words.
He threw his arms around her, both to comfort her and to thump her back to rid the last of the water from her lungs. Rebecca shook and shivered in his arms, clinging to him as if he was life itself.
“You saved her!” Grover shouted in disbelief. He stood beside them, face red and streaked with tears, clutching his head. “You brought her back to life!”
All Thomas could do was nod. Rebecca’s coughing had slowed, but her shivering had grown more violent. He pulled her all the way into his arms, warming her with his body.
“You’re going to be all right,” he told her. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Just breathe now. Breathe.”
She nodded, trying to take deep breaths as he’d instructed but coughing all the same.
“We need to get her back into the house, wrap her in blankets,” he told Grover. Rachel nodded as well at the command.
Thomas muscled himself to stand with Rebecca in his arms. She was still sodden and trembling, but he kept his arms firmly around her. They left the dock—Rachel grabbing his shoes, Nathan bringing Helen and Lorraine—and started up the sloping grass to the road. Dr. Greene was nowhere in sight.
Chapter Ten
Rebecca lay on the sofa in the front parlor of her parent’s house, wrapped in blankets in front of a warm fire. A small audience made up of her children, Mr. Sobel, Mr. Summerall, and Thomas watched her.
“It’s ridiculous to light a fire on a day as hot as this,” she said through chattering teeth.
From his seat by her side, Thomas smoothed her hair away from her face. He grinned at her comment but had the good sense not to contradict her. She repaid him by rumbling into another coughing fit.
“It’s all right, it’s all right,” he assured her, catching her as she sat up.
Her lungs were determined to prove that they still worked, in spite of the pain it caused her. When the coughing fit eased, he helped her to rest again.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Mr. Sobel said from his chair across from the sofa. “He pushed you,” he said again, shaking his head. “I saw it with my own two eyes. Peter Greene pushed you into that pond! He almost killed you!”
“Some doctor he is,” Grover mumbled. He glanced to Thomas. His adolescent fury was gone, replaced by something deep and curious.
“I don’t like him,” Rachel took up the cause. “He shouldn’t be a doctor if he’s going to go pushing people into ponds like that.”
“No, he shouldn’t!” Mr. Sobel agreed. He huffed. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to sell him so much as a blade of grass!”
“I feel as though this is partially my fault,” Mr. Summerall added. The man was clearly uncomfortable standing where he was and kept glancing to the door as if he wanted to use it. “I was given to understand that this development project was wanted. I never would have pressed you if I’d known otherwise, Mr. Sobel.”
“You weren’t the only one who was deceived, young man,” Mr. Sobel said. “But I won’t be fooled again!”
Rebecca’s heart lifted. “So you won’t sell?” She muscled herself to sit. It took more effort than she wanted it to, but Thomas was there to help her.
“Not to the likes of him!” Mr. Sobel said. “I like what you had to say,” he went on, “about how the pond is a place where folks can gather together for a little fun and rest. It should stay that way, even after I’m gone.”
“Then sell it to the town,” Rebecca said. She was prevented from saying more by another bout of coughing. She prayed that someday the coughing would stop. Then again, if life had taught her anything, it was that even the most unpleasant circumstances came to an end eventually.
“I might just do that.” Mr. Sobel nodded. He stood. “In fact, you’re right next door to Michael West’s store, aren’t you?”
“We are,” Grover answered for Rebecca.
“I think I’ll go have a chat with him about it right now.”
Mr. Sobel shuffled toward the door. His steps were slow and stiff with age. How he had managed to walk all the way to her parent’s house from the pond with the girls baffled Rebecca and touched her.
“I’ll come with you.” Mr. Summerall grabbed his chance to leave. “Good day, Mrs. Turner. I hope you recover quickly.”
“Thank you, Mr. Summerall. And thank you too, Mr. Sobel,” she managed through her coughing. “For so many things.”
He turned to smile at her. “And to you, young lady, for pointing me in the right direction. You’ve got a lot of spunk!” To Thomas he said, “You’d better watch out,” and added a wink before walking on. Rachel jumped up to show him and Mr. Summerall out, Helen in her arms.
“You do have a lot of spunk,” Thomas laughed. He shifted closer to her, adjusting her blankets and rubbing her back. “I love it. I love you.”
If Rebecca had had any breath left, his words would have taken it away. As it was, her heart swirled high in her chest, filling her with more warmth than the blankets or the fire ever could. No man had said he loved her since the early days of Bo’s courtship, and no man had ever truly meant it until now.
The walls holding her heart tight inside of her crumbled. This man loved her. He would never hurt her or push her down. He had stood up for her at the pond and saved her life in so many ways, given her back to herself. The fear and reluctance Bo had left her with had broken off and sunk to the bottom of the pond in those dark moments as she was drowning. Thomas had brought her back to the light.
She stared at his lips, wanting
to kiss him. She wanted to do more than that.
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
He didn’t lean closer to her, didn’t swoop in for a kiss to set her soul on fire like she imagined he would. His body was alive with heat so strong she could feel it, but he held back. She cheated her eyes to the side and saw why.
Grover stood a few feet away, arms crossed. He frowned, but more with confusion than anger. He was damp with sweat and dirty from the scuffle at the pond, but for all that boyish mess, his eyes were those of a man. Lorraine sat on a chair behind him, clutching her doll to her chest, eyes wide but tired. Rachel walked back into the room with Helen and glanced from Rebecca and Thomas on the sofa to Grover to figure out what was going on.
Thomas let go of Rebecca and stood. He took a step toward Grover and cleared his throat.
“Grover, Rachel, Lorraine.” He hesitated, lips twitching as though he wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to smile. “Helen,” he finished, nodding to the toddler. “I would like permission to ask your mother to marry me.”
Rebecca’s heart flipped in her chest.
Rachel gasped, her eyes lighting up. “You want to marry Mama?”
“Yes, I do,” Thomas answered. He glanced over his shoulder to Rebecca. “I have for a long time.”
“I thought she didn’t want to,” Grover said. His arms were still crossed, but a new light sparkled in his eyes.
Rebecca’s chest tightened, but not with anxiety. Her only fear now was that he would change his mind and not ask her.
He met her eyes, seeing everything that she could not say. A smile spread across his lips.
“I have reason to believe that she will say yes.” He turned to Grover. “But I will not ask if you do not approve.”
“Yes! We do!” Rachel said, brimming with joy.
“Yes!” Lorraine echoed her. She slipped off her chair and rushed to plop on the sofa beside Rebecca.
Rebecca hugged her daughter, feeling stronger with each heartbeat. She looked to Grover. They all looked to Grover.
Grover took his time answering. He stared at Thomas, studying him, sizing him up. At last he dropped his arms to his sides.
“You saved my ma’s life,” he said. “She drowned back there at the pond. I saw it. She was….” He trailed off and swallowed. “How did you do that?”
“I have medical training,” Thomas answered. “I spent years studying, working to heal the sick.”
Grover nodded and frowned at the explanation.
“And Death is afraid of me,” Thomas finished with a wink.
That one wink held more healing power than all the training in the world. It softened Grover’s shoulders, tweaked the corner of his mouth into a hesitant smile.
“Do you…do you think I could learn to be a doctor someday?” he asked, wavering between youthful uncertainty and inspiration.
Thomas smiled. It relaxed his body and filled the entire room with peace.
“Of course you could, son. All it takes is a keen mind and hard work. I’ve seen that you are capable of both. Death must be afraid of you, too.”
At last, Grover burst into a smile. Rebecca couldn’t hold her tears back any longer. They spilled out uncontrollably when Rachel lunged forward to hug Thomas. Her heart had been filled with too much fear for her family for too long. Thomas wasn’t a threat to everything she held dear, he was what they had been missing all along, a true husband, a real father, a friend.
Thomas bent to kiss the top of Rachel’s head, then faced Grover. “Do I have your permission then?”
“Yes, sir,” Grover nodded.
A girlish giggle burst from Rachel. Rebecca felt the same emotion in her heart. Thomas let go of Rachel and sank to one knee in front of the sofa.
“Rebecca Turner, my heart has been seeking for you for as long as I can remember.” He reached for her hands. She gave them freely, trembling anew as he squeezed them. “I lost my home and my family when I was as young as your children are. I have found that home and that family again today. I promise that I will treat you and them with honor, respect, and love. I will give my life to all of you, to protect you and care for you, if you will only have me.”
“Does that mean me, too?” Lorraine whispered from her spot snuggled against Rebecca’s side.
Thomas laughed. “Yes, Lorraine, that means you, too. All of you.”
Rebecca didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, to hug Lorraine or to kiss Thomas. For too long she had had to fight by herself to keep what she loved safe. She wouldn’t have to fight or be alone any more.
“Rebecca,” Thomas finished. “Will you marry me?”
Her throat squeezed tight with emotion. It was almost enough to start her coughing again, but she swallowed the urge with all the fight she had left. She nodded.
“Yes, Thomas. Of course I will.”
“Hurray!” Lorraine shouted, lifting her arms.
Rebecca laughed, the sound joining with the laughter and smiles of Rachel and Grover and even Helen. Thomas scooted forward and leaned in to kiss her at last.
Their lips met and her heart stilled at last. At last, she had the love she’d dreamed of as a girl. At last, her children had a father they could be proud of. At last, their lives could begin.
* * *
I hope you have enjoyed Seeks For Her. If you’d like to be the first to learn more about new releases and more, please sign up for my newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/RQ-KX And remember, Read it, Review it, Share it!
Ready for the last installment of the Montana Romance series? Will Phineas Bell find love? Click here to go to the next book in the series, Somebody to Love.
About the Author
Merry Farmer lives in suburban Philadelphia with her two cats, Butterfly and Torpedo. She has been writing since she was ten years old and realized one day that she didn’t have to wait for the teacher to assign a creative writing project to write something. It was the best day of her life. She then went on to earn not one but two degrees in History so that she would always have something to write about. Today she walks along the cutting edge of Indie Publishing, writing Historical Romance and Women's Sci-Fi. She is also passionate about blogging, knitting, and cricket and is working towards becoming an internationally certified cricket scorer.
You can email her at [email protected] or follow her on Twitter @merryfarmer20.
Merry also has a blog, http://merryfarmer.net,
and a Facebook page, www.facebook.com/merryfarmerauthor
and loves visitors.
Acknowledgements
Thanks as always to my lovely beta-readers, L.B. Joramo, Ashley York, and Keira Montclair. Bunches of thanks to my copy editor, Suzanne Copenhaver. And a million hugs of gratitude to my publicist, Anne Chaconas, of Badass Book Marketing for doing what I could never do with all that pesky marketing stuff.
Want to know more about Thomas’s sister, Lily, and how she and Christian got together? Here’s a peek at In Your Arms, available now almost wherever books are sold:
Chapter One
Montana, 1897
A fresh blanket of snow had fallen on Cold Springs, Montana during the night. It hadn’t been enough to cancel school, but it had covered the town in glistening white. Townsfolk went about their business wrapped in woolen coats and scarves, too tough to let a little thing like winter stop them. The landscape around the town’s new school glowed with crisp white promise, from the field beside the grand building to the blue-bright mountain tops.
Lily Singer paced the shoveled walk around the perimeter of the enclosed schoolyard, a thick wool tam o-shanter hiding her sleek black hair. A matching red scarf wound around her neck, but she resisted the urge to tuck her chin into its warm folds. The laughing, shrieking children throwing snowballs around her shouldn’t see her shivering. She kept her back straight, her chin tilted up enough to project strength but not enough to appear aloof as she clutched her mittened hands behind her.
“Hey! That’s not fair!” one of
her young charges roared across the schoolyard.
A few of the boys had built a meager snow fort at the far end of the yard. Jimmy Twitchel stood out among them for his wide, toothy grin as much as Amos Wright did for his chocolate-brown skin. But it was Red Sun Boy who caught her attention when he popped his head up over the top of the fort. He packed snowballs and hollered along with the others, caught up in the game. As pleased as she wanted to be to see the Flathead boy playing with the other children, she worried about him.
There wasn’t enough snow on the ground for Jimmy, Amos and Red Sun Boy’s fort to be more than a bump, but a second group of boys objected to it. They approached, expressions fierce and arms full of snowballs.
“That’s not fair,” sharp-faced Grover Turner repeated.
“Yeah,” his friend Isaac seconded. “The rules say snow should be used for snowballs, not forts.”
“We got snowballs too!”
When Grover’s gang came within a few yards of the fort, Jimmy, Amos, and Red Sun Boy launched a full attack, hurling snowy missiles from a pile the other boys hadn’t seen.
Grover and his friends roared in protest and began their counter-attack.
“Take him out, boys!” Grover shouted, pelting Red Sun Boy in particular with snow. “There won’t be a negro or an Injun left standing!”
“Yes, sir, General Custer!” Isaac answered the call. “Shoot the Injuns!”
Lily winced and inched closer to the boys, keeping an eye on the war. Her own “red” skin had always been light enough to pass if it came to it, but dark enough to betray the truth of who she was. Her students hardly noticed, but for their parents it was another matter.
“Take them out, I said!” Grover yelled.
“You do know that Custer lost in the end, don’t’cha?” Amos laughed and beaned a snowball straight into Isaac’s back. Isaac and Grover both roared.
