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With Autumn's Return (Westward Winds Book #3): A Novel

Page 33

by Amanda Cabot


  Earlier that day, Elizabeth and Jason had moved Phoebe into Elizabeth’s office. Fortunately, the infirmary bed had wheels, allowing them to push it with only a modicum of difficulty.

  Elizabeth climbed onto the cot that Jason had found for her and pulled the sheets up to her neck. “I’m ready.”

  The deputy nodded and moved behind a large dressing screen that Jason had positioned in the far corner of the room. “And now we wait to see if she comes.”

  Though she understood the deputy’s skepticism, Elizabeth refused to entertain the idea of failure. If Tabitha had killed her husband—and Elizabeth believed she had—she would want to ensure that Phoebe did not live to testify against her.

  “She’ll come.”

  It felt strange, walking to Elizabeth’s home with a woman who wasn’t Elizabeth. On another occasion, Jason might have enjoyed Laura Seaman’s company. Tonight, though, the thought that was foremost in his mind was whether Elizabeth might even now be confronting a murderer.

  She wasn’t alone. He reminded himself of that. The deputy was there. He would protect Elizabeth if Tabitha arrived before Jason could return to the infirmary. Elizabeth would be safe, and soon Tabitha Chadwick would be in custody.

  “I think I felt a snowflake.”

  It would take more than a tiny piece of frozen water to distract Jason. He and Mrs. Seaman were almost at the corner of 17th and Ferguson. In less than five minutes, he’d have delivered her to Gwen, and then he’d be on his way back to Elizabeth.

  As they turned the corner, Jason saw a carriage stopped in front of the apartment Elizabeth shared with Gwen. The dry goods store had closed for the day, so it couldn’t be a customer. A feeling of apprehension slithered down Jason’s spine. There was no reason to worry, and yet this was the first time someone had parked there.

  “Doctor! Doctor!” A young woman leaned out the carriage window. “Come quickly. Mrs. Chadwick needs you.”

  How much time had passed? It felt like eons, but Elizabeth suspected it had been only a few minutes. Jason and Laura would not have had enough time to reach the apartment. It was merely the anxiety that welled deep inside her that made Elizabeth tremble. There was no reason to be afraid. The deputy was here.

  She lay motionless, wishing she could talk but knowing that even a whispered conversation might keep them from hearing the door open. They must remain alert.

  Another eon passed before a scream rent the night.

  “Help me!” a woman cried. “Help me! He’s killing me!”

  The screams were close, coming from the alley behind Elizabeth’s office. Elizabeth sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, but before she could do more, the deputy rushed from behind the screen, his revolver drawn.

  “You need to stay here, Doctor. I’ll call you if I need you.”

  The next sounds she heard were a thud and footsteps.

  Mrs. Seaman looked at Jason, confusion evident in her brown eyes. “What should I do?”

  Jason thought quickly. Though he was almost certain this was some kind of ruse, he could not risk anyone’s life, not even Tabitha Chadwick’s. If she really did need a physician’s care, Jason would find a way to get it to her, but he would do nothing to endanger Mrs. Seaman.

  “Go upstairs,” he said softly, pointing to the outdoor staircase that led to Elizabeth’s apartment. “I’ll come for you later.” As she turned, Jason approached the carriage. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “The doctor’s gone to fetch some supplies.”

  The woman in the carriage frowned, as if she hadn’t expected that and wasn’t certain how to respond. “Mrs. Chadwick collapsed,” she said. “She went to the lumber company, and she was so upset that she collapsed.”

  It was a ruse, an attempt to keep Elizabeth away from her office. Jason was certain of that. Not only was it implausible that Tabitha would have gone to Nelson’s place of work at night, but the woman’s speech sounded as rehearsed as Tabitha’s declaration of sorrow had.

  Jason climbed into the carriage and faced the woman. “Where is she? Where is Tabitha?” he demanded.

  Cringing, the woman repeated her earlier lies. “I told you. She’s at the lumber company. She collapsed.”

  “Try again.” Jason adopted the menacing tone one of his professors had claimed would elicit the truth from even a hardened criminal. “I don’t believe you.”

  The woman shrank against the seatback. “I don’t know. She didn’t tell me. All she said was I was supposed to take you and the doctor to the lumberyard.”

  She was telling the truth. The woman might not be innocent, but she was ignorant of Tabitha’s plans. Jason would learn nothing more from her. He leaned out and called to the coachman. “Take me to Dr. Harding’s office. As fast as those horses will go.”

  Elizabeth needed him.

  They were a woman’s footsteps, and though the person who had entered her office through the rear door said nothing, Elizabeth knew those footsteps belonged to Tabitha. She had come to kill Phoebe. Elizabeth had expected that; however, she had not expected that neither Jason nor the deputy would be here when Tabitha arrived. Their plan had unraveled, and there was no one to help Elizabeth.

  She retrieved one item from her instrument drawer, then settled on the cot, pulling up the sheets and turning on her side so that she faced the wall. Tabitha would expect Phoebe to be the occupant of the bed, and while most people saw what they expected, Elizabeth would take no chances. When she entered the infirmary, Tabitha would see only the back of a woman with a bandaged head.

  Firm footsteps announced the visitor’s arrival. For a second, there was no sound other than the two women’s breathing. Then Tabitha laughed, a sound so devoid of mirth that it sent a shiver down Elizabeth’s spine.

  “There you are.” There was no mistaking Tabitha Chadwick’s voice. “You thought you were so smart, didn’t you, trying to steal my husband? You were wrong, Phoebe. I gave up more than you can possibly imagine to become Nelson’s wife, and I have no intention of being humiliated by a whore like you.” Her voice filled with venom, Tabitha fairly spat the words. “You should have died the first time, but don’t worry. You’ll die tonight.”

  This was the confession Elizabeth and Jason had hoped to elicit. The problem was, there was no one but Elizabeth to hear it. She could only pray that the deputy would regain consciousness—for surely Tabitha had not killed him when she’d lured him outside with her false cries for help—in time to apprehend Tabitha.

  Elizabeth lay quietly, wondering what Tabitha would do next. The woman seemed to have exhausted her supply of vitriol.

  Elizabeth heard the swishing of something soft, perhaps a scarf, and guessed that Tabitha intended to strangle Phoebe. Moving so swiftly that Tabitha had no way of anticipating it, Elizabeth rolled onto her other side and sat up, facing Tabitha.

  “Killing me won’t accomplish anything. The sheriff knows that you murdered your husband and tried to kill Phoebe.”

  For a second, Tabitha stared at Elizabeth, confusion evident in her expression.

  “Dr. Harding? What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be . . .” Tabitha looked around the infirmary, clearly searching for signs of Phoebe. When her gaze returned to Elizabeth, Tabitha’s green eyes filled with malevolence. “Where is she?”

  Elizabeth kept her eyes fixed on Tabitha, refusing to even glance in the direction of her examination room, where Phoebe lay. “Safe,” she said, keeping the scalpel that she held in her right hand hidden from Tabitha’s view. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but when she realized she was alone, Elizabeth had wanted some way to defend herself.

  Tabitha shook her head. “She’s here. I know she is.” Pulling a pistol from her pocket, she pointed it at Elizabeth. “Come along, Doctor. We’re going to find your patient, and when we do, you’re going to kill her.”

  The woman was mad. That was the only explanation Elizabeth could find. Tabitha’s anger and hatred had grown to monstrous proportions. She knew that Elizabeth would n
ever kill a patient, and yet she seemed to believe it was a reasonable demand.

  Elizabeth clutched the scalpel, wondering how she could use it to disarm Tabitha. She couldn’t let her harm Phoebe, and yet there seemed no way to keep Tabitha from finding her. If Elizabeth refused to tell her where Phoebe was, Tabitha would simply shoot her and then search the office until she found Phoebe. Phoebe’s only hope was for Elizabeth to stall Tabitha until Jason returned. Please, Lord, make it soon.

  “There’s no reason to kill Phoebe,” Elizabeth said, keeping her voice as calm as she could. “She can’t hurt you.”

  Tabitha’s lip curled in disgust. “She bewitched Nelson. She deserves to die. Now, show me where she is.”

  Elizabeth slid the scalpel under her skirt, then began to unwind the bandage she’d wrapped around her head. Tabitha watched, almost as if she were mesmerized. “Why were you wearing that?”

  “I wanted you to think I was Phoebe. I knew you’d try to kill her again, but I couldn’t let that happen.” Elizabeth folded the bandage, moving slowly and deliberately, as if there was nothing more important than having a precisely folded piece of cloth. When she finished, she removed the nightshirt she’d used to cover her own dress.

  “How did you know I was the one?” Tabitha demanded. “I didn’t leave any clues. I know I didn’t.”

  Elizabeth lifted her left hand and mimicked a stabbing motion. “Phoebe is left-handed. She couldn’t have inflicted those wounds herself.”

  For the first time, Elizabeth saw hesitation in Tabitha’s expression, but it was only momentary. “Stop stalling,” she said. “I want to see that woman.”

  See, not kill. Perhaps there was hope. Elizabeth stood and moved toward the door leading to the hallway. Taking Tabitha through the waiting room would require more time than going through the kitchen and across the hall to the examination room.

  The waiting room was dark. Though Elizabeth knew she could find her way without switching on the lights, she stopped and pretended to fumble with the switch. Light flooded the room.

  “Of course she’s not here. This is the waiting room.” Tabitha sounded annoyed, and she jabbed the barrel of her gun into Elizabeth’s back. “Where is she? Where is that harlot?”

  Where was Jason? Elizabeth couldn’t let Tabitha come any closer to Phoebe. She had to do something to stop the woman from killing again. Gripping the scalpel firmly, Elizabeth spun around and held it to Tabitha’s throat.

  “You can kill me if you want, but you’ll die too. A woman who’s been shot still has enough strength to cut your jugular vein.”

  Tabitha blinked but pressed the gun against Elizabeth’s chest. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Are you willing to risk your life?”

  “Faster.” Though the carriage careened around the corner, it wasn’t fast enough for Jason. He had to reach Elizabeth. He had to know that she was safe and that the deputy had Tabitha in custody. There was no reason to worry, he told himself, and yet he did. As the buggy approached Elizabeth’s office, Jason’s sense of foreboding grew. Though the waiting room shades were drawn, light seeped around the edges. Why? No one should be there, and Elizabeth was far too frugal to light a room unnecessarily.

  Leaping down from the carriage, Jason sprinted to the front door. As his hand touched the knob, he heard a small voice deep inside himself say, “Quietly.” And so he opened the door as gently as he could and entered the hallway, every movement stealthy.

  It was only a few steps to the waiting room. Jason reached the doorway, his breath catching and dread filling his heart when he saw them. The two women stood face-to-face, only inches apart. Elizabeth held a knife to Tabitha’s throat, while the woman who had already killed at least one person had a gun in her hand, a gun that was pointed at Elizabeth’s heart.

  He would have only one chance. Jason knew that as surely as he knew that Elizabeth would never use that knife for harm. He took two long strides into the room, and then, heedless of the noise, leapt forward and knocked Tabitha to the floor.

  The gunshot was deafening.

  Shaking her head in a vain effort to stop her ears from ringing, Elizabeth knelt on the floor next to Jason and Tabitha. It had all happened so fast that she hadn’t been able to see what occurred. One second Tabitha was pointing the gun at her. The next, both she and Jason were lying on the ground. And sometime—before, during, or after the fall, Elizabeth wasn’t certain when—Tabitha’s gun had gone off. Though she saw no blood, Elizabeth couldn’t stop her heart from pounding with fear at the thought that Jason might have been wounded. Or worse.

  Slowly, Jason shifted his weight and sat up, apparently unharmed. Thank you, Lord.

  “Are you all right?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Yes, and so is Tabitha. She’s just stunned.” Jason gestured toward the wall that separated the waiting and examination rooms. “Your wall wasn’t so lucky.”

  A nervous laugh escaped from Elizabeth. That and the fact that her limbs were trembling like leaves in a thunderstorm were the natural aftermath of the ordeal she’d endured. She would be light-headed, even a little dizzy, for a few minutes, but then the effects would subside. She was safe. Even more importantly, so was Phoebe.

  “Where’s the deputy?”

  It was Tabitha who answered Jason’s question. “At the back door, out cold. The man was so worried about answering my cry for help that he didn’t notice I was waiting for him with a brick in my hands.” Once again Tabitha’s laugh held no mirth.

  Elizabeth scrambled to her feet. “I’d better check on him.” The man would need a physician.

  “Could you give me some bandages first?”

  Feeling the blood drain from her face, Elizabeth stared at Jason. “I thought you were unharmed.”

  “I am, but I want to tie Tabitha’s hands and feet. Then she’s going to take a trip to the sheriff.”

  As Elizabeth watched, a calculating gleam filled Tabitha’s eyes.

  “You’ll help me, won’t you?” she asked Jason. “Help me like you did Adam Bennett. I’m no guiltier than he was.”

  Jason stared at her, his expression mirroring his incredulity. “That will never happen,” he said, his voice steely with resolve. “If the sheriff agrees, I’ll be the prosecuting attorney. I intend to see that you pay for everything you’ve done. It’s the least I can do for Nelson and Elizabeth.”

  “Would you have used the scalpel?”

  It was two hours later. The deputy had regained consciousness, and after he’d heard Elizabeth and Jason’s story and the venom spewing from Tabitha’s mouth, he’d announced that Tabitha would be spending tonight and all the nights until her trial in jail. When the deputy and his prisoner had left, Jason had helped Elizabeth wheel Phoebe back into the infirmary, then left to take Laura Seaman home. Now he was back, sitting at the kitchen table with Elizabeth.

  “I don’t know,” she said in response to Jason’s question. “I know I couldn’t have killed Tabitha, but I also knew I couldn’t let her hurt Phoebe. I kept stalling, and all the while I prayed that God would send you back in time. He did.”

  Jason’s eyes glistened with an emotion Elizabeth could not identify. “He did more than that. He warned me to be quiet when I came inside. That way Tabitha didn’t know I was there.”

  “I didn’t, either.” There had been a moment of confusion when Tabitha fell and the gun went off, but it had been followed by overwhelming relief that no one had died.

  “Did you tell Laura what happened?”

  Jason nodded. “I also stopped at the Taggerts’ house. Cyrus is going to print a special edition of the paper, revealing the truth about what happened in Phoebe’s parlor.”

  “I’m glad.” Though Elizabeth could not condone Phoebe’s way of life, the woman did not deserve to be blamed for a crime she did not commit. “Thank you.”

  Jason’s lips curved into a smile. “Were the thanks for talking to Cyrus or getting the gun away from Tabitha?”

  “Both. And many more
things. Without you, I would not have been able to trap Tabitha. I wouldn’t have been sure she was Nelson’s murderer.”

  Jason’s smile turned into a full-fledged grin. “We make good partners.” His voice deepened as he pronounced the last word. With a rueful glance at the stove and small dry sink, he stretched out his hands, capturing Elizabeth’s. “This isn’t the place I would have chosen,” he said, his blue eyes fixed on hers, “but I don’t want to waste another minute. Seeing how fast life can end made me realize that each moment is precious.” He swallowed deeply, then tightened his grip on Elizabeth’s hands. “I meant what I said about us being good partners. I don’t want that to end. Will you be my partner for life? Will you marry me?”

  He wanted to marry her! Elizabeth’s heart soared, then sank as she recalled their conversations and the doubts Jason had shared with her. She closed her eyes, searching for the right words. “I want to,” she said softly as she once again gazed at him. “But I’m afraid.”

  Jason laughed. “You? The woman who volunteered to be a decoy, the same woman who faced a gun without flinching, is afraid?” She must have winced, for she saw contrition in Jason’s eyes. He raised her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss on them. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed. What do you fear? Is it me?”

  She shook her head, then nodded. “I’m afraid of disappointing you. I’m afraid that after the initial . . .” She stumbled over the word “love.” Jason had never used it, and she would not be the one to introduce it. Instead, she settled for saying “feelings.” “I’m afraid they will fade and that you’ll regret our marriage. You’ve told me what your childhood was like and how much you missed having a mother’s influence on your life.” Jason nodded slowly, encouraging her to continue. It had been a night of drama, and though she had faced the possibility of dying, somehow that seemed less frightening than watching the man she loved discover she was not the woman of his dreams.

 

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