by Kaki Warner
“You couldn’t have foreseen this any more than I.” When he started to protest, she pulled back and pressed trembling fingers over his lips. “You didn’t give up. You found me. That’s what’s important.” Taking her hand away, she gave him a hard, fast kiss then stepped back. “Now please . . . take me home.”
“After we go to Doc’s.”
* * *
Even though Ethan’s arm was barely functional, and his neck and shoulders were so sore he could hardly turn his head, he insisted on having Audra ride back with him rather than with one of the other men. He didn’t want her out of his sight or his reach for a single moment. Even so, Thomas stayed close by, as if expecting him to let her slide off or something.
When they reached town, Brodie reined in. “I’ll stop by your house, Audra, and tell the Abrahams you’re safe and will be home after Doc checks you over.”
Tait offered to ride ahead to the hotel. “The ladies have been very worried.”
“Why don’t you go there after you see Doc,” Ethan suggested to her. “It’ll be awhile before he’s finished with me, and you could take a long bath in the hotel washroom. I’m sure Lucinda will lend you clean clothing. I’ll come take you home as soon as I finish at the clinic.”
Tait read her hesitation as assent. “I’ll tell them to start heating the water.”
When the other three men rode ahead, Thomas stayed behind. “I will go with you to your healer. And take her to the hotel when she is ready.”
They arrived at the clinic a few minutes later. Thomas hung back when Ethan and Audra went up the walk.
Doc Boyce took one look at the two of them and started shaking his head. “If you two aren’t the most pitiful pair I’ve ever seen. What have you done to yourselves this time?”
Ethan explained about Weems as he followed Doc and Audra down the hallway. But when he tried to go with them into the examination room with them, Doc put out a hand. “You’re still not married, son. Best wait out here.”
Too weary to argue, Ethan did as he was told. As soon as the door closed behind them, weakness overcame him. Sliding down the wall, he sat on the floor, arms braced across his bent knees. He couldn’t stop shaking. Couldn’t seem to catch his breath. Couldn’t clear the fear from his mind.
I didn’t lose her, he told himself over and over. She’s safe. She’s going to be all right.
Emotion constricted his throat. Dropping his head onto his folded arms, he gave into shuddering relief as tears he never thought to shed again mingled with the blood on his sleeve.
By the time Audra came out, he had himself in hand again. Rising, he looked her over—ointment on her forehead, her hands, a cut on her neck, and who knows where else. She looked like a battered and dirty china doll. “How is she, Doc?”
“Bruises, abrasions, a bump on the head, and plumb worn out. She told me what happened. Glad you killed the bastard, Hardesty, so I wouldn’t have to go against my oath. Don’t forget this, Miss Pearsall.” He held out gauze, sticking plaster, and a small brown jar. “After your bath, put more ointment on your cuts, then cover them with gauze. They should heal quickly. Your turn, Hardesty.”
Thomas stepped out of the shadows at the end of the hallway, startling them. How long had he been standing there? “I will take her to the hotel now,” he told Ethan. “And will guard her until you come.”
Ethan’s visit took a lot longer . . . and required fifteen stitches. Luckily, he had been wearing his thick shearling jacket, or the blade would have cut to the bone. As it was, he would be sore for a while, but unless infection set in, he should heal without a problem. More of that stinking salve, horse liniment for his neck and shoulders, a thick linen wrapping and a sling for his arm, and firm instructions to stay the hell out of trouble for a while, then Doc sent him on his way.
He rode slowly back to the hotel, drained in body and spirit, feeling like he’d been gone for weeks, rather than a night and a day.
Audra was still in the washroom with the ladies, so he went through the lobby and around into the door of the Red Eye where he found the men seated in their usual corner. A bottle of the earl’s fine Scotch whiskey sat in the middle of the table. When Ash saw him, he motioned the barkeep to bring another glass. Ethan pulled up a chair between Thomas, who was sipping ginger beer, and Rafe Jessup, who was scratching Ash’s wolfhound behind the ear.
Brodie nodded toward Ethan’s sling. “Serious damage?”
“Just a few stitches.” Ethan glanced around the table at the men who had become like brothers to him. That knot of emotion clogged his throat again, and it was a moment before he trusted his voice enough to speak. “Thank you. For going back and helping me find her. For saving my life. I owe you.”
“Aye, you do,” Ash said, and they all laughed in that embarrassed way men have when things are on the verge of getting too emotional. “And I’ll take my debt in construction help.”
“I’d like your expertise on the depot plans,” Tait added.
So much for avoiding architecture. “Rafe?” Ethan asked.
Giving Tricks a final pat, he looked up with a half smile. “I’ll keep the mule. Poor animal’s had a rough life.”
Ethan turned to Brodie. “And you, Sheriff?”
“I’m thinking on it.”
“Thomas?”
“You will build me a school.”
They all looked at him in surprise. “What do you want with a school?” Brodie asked.
“When Prudence Lincoln comes back, she will want to teach. She must have a school to do that.”
Ethan wondered if the others were thinking what he was: that Prudence Lincoln might never come back.
“An excellent idea, Redstone,” Tait said. “Heartbreak Creek needs a real school. I’ll talk to Mayor Gebbers about funding it. And now that Bonet is gone, we need a publisher for the Herald, too. Do you think Audra would be interested, Ethan?”
Maybe if they moved the paper to another building. After seeing her employer butchered beside her desk, Ethan doubted she would ever want to go into the Herald office again. “I’ll ask her.” Figuring she would be finished with her bath by now, and probably hungry after going so long without food, he rose. “Dining room still open?”
“Mrs. Abraham is waiting dinner.” Brodie tossed back the last of his drink, then stood. “Thomas, if you’ll take Ed and the children home, I need to return a widow-lady’s watch and a Chinaman’s pigtail, then fill out all sorts of troublesome paperwork for the judge.”
After the group broke up, Ethan walked with Tait and Ash back to the hotel, where they found the ladies having tea in Lucinda’s office. Audra looked exhausted, huddled on the couch in a thick woolen robe, shearling slippers, and a patchwork of plaster bandages. At least the dirt was gone and the tangles had been brushed from her damp hair—but the warm water had brought out the color in her bruises. She was so weary she looked like she was about to nod off.
“We better go,” Ethan told her. “Winnie’s waiting supper.”
“How’s your arm?” she asked when he helped her to her feet.
“A few stitches, that’s all.” Remembering, he reached into his pocket and pulled out her father’s medallion. “We found this among the prospector’s things,” he said and handed it to her.
Tears filled her eyes, even though she was smiling. “I thought it was lost forever. He said he’d found it in the ashes of the cabin, but I wasn’t sure I believed him.”
He didn’t tell her what Weems had said about finding it at the Arlan house in her dresser drawer. She didn’t need to know a killer had been going through her things.
They said their good-byes, then Tait came out to help her up on Renny and wave them on their way. Several people stopped on the boardwalk to watch them, calling, “Glad you’re back,” and “Welcome home, Audra,” as they rode by, but Ethan didn’t stop to chat.
Winnie and Curtis came out onto the porch when they rode up, Mr. Pearsall in tow. When Curtis saw Ethan’s sling, he stepped up to help Audra down, gave her a bear hug, then offered to take Renny to the paddock out back.
Winnie couldn’t stop crying. Mr. Pearsall just looked bewildered.
They had a late family dinner at the worn dining table, and even though Audra could hardly keep her eyes open, she managed to eat a fair amount. When Curtis took her father up to bed, she trailed behind them with Winnie, almost stumbling, she was so tired. After the Abrahams tucked the two of them in bed, they came back downstairs and sat at the table while Ethan told them about Audra’s ordeal.
“Oh, my poor baby.” Winnie dabbed at her eyes with a tattered dish towel. “What kind of man would do such a thing? And why?”
Ethan had a fleeting memory of Eunice, then quickly shoved it away. “There’s no accounting for how some people think, Winnie. They’re just not right in the head. It’s like something is missing.”
“Praise the Lord you found her, Mistuh Ethan.”
It was late by the time he finished answering their questions and helped clean up the dishes. When the old couple went on to bed, he heated a pot of water and washed by the hearth, then pulled fresh clothes from the saddlebag Curtis had left by the couch. Not bothering with boots, he slowly climbed the stairs to Audra’s room.
She lay curled in the middle of the bed, bathed in shadows and silver moonlight. He stood for a long time, looking at her, his chest tight with emotion.
What if he hadn’t insisted on going back to Weems’s camp? What if they had never found her and she’d suffered a slow, agonizing death chained in that cold, dark hole? How could he have gone on if he’d lost her?
More tears burned in his eyes, but he blinked them away.
It’s over. She’s alive.
He moved the chair by the window next to the bed, and with a deep sigh, settled in to watch over her while she slept.
* * *
Audra awoke to darkness and a hand holding her down. With a cry, she lashed out, twisting and kicking, until Ethan’s voice broke through the terror.
“It’s all right. I’m here. You’re safe.”
She slumped back, her mind in tatters, her body shivering so hard her teeth chattered. “L-Light the lamp. It’s too dark.”
Once the lamp was lit, she looked fearfully into all the corners, half-expecting Weems to come bounding out, that evil grin on his face.
But the only one there was Ethan—beloved Ethan, her savior and hero. How he would laugh if she called him that. Sitting up, she reached out for him, felt his good arm close around her in a tight embrace. “Don’t leave me,” she whispered against his neck.
“I won’t.”
Wrinkling her nose, she drew back. “What’s that smell?”
“Probably the horse liniment.”
“It better work,” she muttered, moving into his embrace again.
For a long time, she lay cuddled against his chest, his heartbeat a soothing rhythm beneath her ear. But when weariness claimed her again, she lay back, yawning. “Stay with me,” she said, patting the bed beside her hip. “I don’t want to be alone.”
She didn’t have to ask twice. Without removing anything but the thick belt in his trousers, he stretched out on top of the covers, his injured arm on the outside, his good arm wrapped around her, holding her close. “How’s this?”
She snuggled closer, and tried to ignore the smell of the liniment. “Perfect.”
He pressed his lips to her silky hair. “I love you, Audra.”
“I love you, too, Ethan.”
Safely anchored against his warmth, she finally drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Thirty-four
Audra spent most of the next two days in bed, her body so sore she could scarcely roll over, much less go up and down the stairs. Despite Winnie’s hard looks, Ethan stayed the nights with her, sleeping fully dressed except for boots and belt, on top of the covers, his good arm wrapped around her, ready to comfort her when the night terrors came.
And they came often.
Their scrapes and cuts improved rapidly. By the end of the third day, Ethan dispensed with the horse liniment and sling, but their bruises remained livid, fading from bluish-purple to greenish-yellow. Audra fretted endlessly over whether they would be gone by the wedding in just over two weeks.
Ethan didn’t care. He was just grateful that she was safe, and anxious for the waiting to end so they could start their lives together without all the artificial barriers between them. In his heart and mind, they were already married.
One or other of the ladies came by every afternoon for the first three days, either to discuss the wedding plans, or to bring pastries for an afternoon cup of tea, or simply to sit and chat about nonsensical things. Between their visits and Winnie’s fussing and her time spent with her father, her days seemed to pass fairly easily.
But the nights dragged.
Stretched out beside her, Ethan knew how restlessly she slept, and when she lay awake, staring at the lamp she insisted remain lit all night. He tried to coax her into talking about what had happened, hoping that might help her sleep better. But she wouldn’t say much beyond what she had already told him—that Weems only came to her a few times, and all the other hours she either spent huddled in the cold dark, or working on the bolt in the wall once she had the candle.
“I thought I was going to die,” she tearfully told him after one especially fearful dream. “I even planned it, wanting to end it myself, rather than give Weems the satisfaction of killing me. But I couldn’t.”
“Thank God,” he’d murmured, holding her close. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.” He couldn’t bear thinking of her waiting in that cold cell, dying a little more each minute he didn’t come. What if he had believed Weems, and had never come back? That thought haunted him, sent him into gasping wakefulness at least once every night.
He didn’t know what to do for her—or for him—or what he could say that would help them push these fears from their minds.
The third night after he brought her home, he awoke to find her standing at the window in her gown, her slim form backlit by the rising full moon. He wondered what was going through her mind. If it was another night terror, or if her ordeal had planted fears in her mind about their impending marriage.
He rose and moved up behind her. Sliding his arms around her, he bent down and kissed her neck. “What’s wrong? More bad dreams?”
“It’s the full moon. This was the night he was going to kill me.”
He felt a shudder run through her, and held her tighter. “But he didn’t.”
“Thanks to you.” After a bit, she turned in his arms to face him. With the moonlight behind her, and the lamp burning low, he couldn’t see her expression, but he knew she was crying.
“Talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help.”
She looked away. “No . . . it’s too . . . I can’t.”
“Audra.” When she still wouldn’t look at him, he brought his hands up to cup her face, felt her tears on his fingers, and leaned in to kiss them away. “I love you. You can tell me anything. Just talk to me. Please.”
It was awhile before she spoke and when she did, the words were disjointed and hesitant, her eyes downcast rather than meeting his. “He made me unbutton my blouse and pull down my shift so he could look at me while he touched himself. It made me feel filthy. Like spiders were crawling across my skin.”
Ethan tried to keep his voice even. “It’s his shame. Not yours.”
“I know, but . . .” She took a deep hitching breath and closed her eyes. “But that memory keeps circling in my mind. I can’t make it go away.”
“When we marry, we’ll make new memories. Good memories.”
“Will we?” Her eyes opened, fina
lly met his. “What if this fear never leaves me? What if it comes between the two of us and I can’t . . . can’t . . .”
That was his fear, too. He remembered how responsive she had been during his almost-audition. Had this terrible experience robbed her of the unbridled joy and enthusiasm she’d shown when he’d touched her? Taking his hands from her face, he pushed back the hair from her brow and kissed the furrow between her eyes. “Give it time, sweetheart.”
“And if that doesn’t help?”
“It will. I won’t let Weems come between us. Trust me.”
“I do trust you, Ethan. But I don’t want to wait. I need to know now if I can get past this. I want to make new memories tonight while the moon is full, so that in the years ahead, whenever I see it above me, I’ll think of you and not him.”
How could he resist that? Or her? Or his own need for assurance? Sleeping beside her every night had tested his resolve to keep his hands to himself, and when she looked at him the way she did now, he could deny her nothing. Bending lower, he kissed her, and felt that simmering desire he always felt whenever he was around her boil over inside him. “You’re sure?”
“I’ve been sure.” Her fingers fumbled with the three buttons on the placket of his collarless shirt. When he tried to help, she brushed his hands away. “No, let me.”
He forced himself to stand still, his body humming with anticipation, his heart beating so hard he wondered if she could hear it. After she loosened the last button, she pulled the shirt free of his trousers, then slid her hands underneath the fabric. “You’re so warm.”
Not warm. Burning up, his skin prickling, his muscles quivering beneath her trailing fingers. “Maybe your hands are cold.”
“Or maybe you’re ticklish.” She slid her hands around his waist to his back, slowly pushing up the fabric until her fingers brushed over the first long scar Eunice had given him. “What’s this?”
“An old injury.”
Her fingers found the second scar below his shoulder. “From when the glass fell?”
