“No, Jacob! Ethan!”
“He’s dead, Lettie! There’s no way he could have survived that blast.”
“No.” Her eyes grew wide and tortured, and she stared up at her brother in horror, then turned to search the rubble for some sign of life.
“He’s dead,” he repeated more softly.
A low, primeval cry of pain rose from Lettie’s chest and seeped into the dawn. She tried to break loose, tried to lunge toward the jail, but Jacob held her fast. The last few remaining walls of the jail creaked and groaned, then collapsed in a shower of dust.
“Nooo!” she screamed, then whirled toward her brother, pounding him with her fists. “You killed him! You killed him!”
Lettie looked up to find four men on horseback circling them and edging closer, with Judge Krupp at the lead.
She wrenched free from her brother’s grip. “You did this!” Lettie shouted. “Didn’t you? Didn’t you!”
Krupp drew his revolver from his holster. “My men were simply seeing that justice was served. The Star Council has been sworn to uphold the law.”
“The law? What law? You’re nothing but butchers! Butchers, do you hear me? Ethan didn’t rob those banks, he didn’t kill Jeb Clark. Natalie did. Natalie and Silas Gruber. And you, Judge Krupp. You are more responsible than anyone here.”
“You’re hysterical.”
“I’m not hysterical. It’s the truth. I swear, it’s the truth! Natalie admitted it herself.”
Krupp’s features hardened. “Then I regret the fact that you will have to die as well.”
Jacob swore and pushed Lettie behind the cover of his body, but one of Krupp’s men lifted his own weapon and aimed it at the center of her head.
Without warning, the click of hammers being drawn into place shattered through the early dawn.
“Gentlemen, put your weapons down. Now.”
Looking beyond the circle of Star members, Lettie noted that a much larger circle of people had arrived at their aid. Sobbing, she saw the Beasleys with rifles, Ned and Goldsmith with revolvers, Harold Beechum, Irma and Adolph Schmidt, Dorothy Rupert, and even Celeste Grey, all holding assorted Derringers, pistols, and shotguns. From a distance, she heard the first clamoring rings of the alarm bell near the church.
Judge Krupp’s features grew desperate and hard. “Shoot them!” he shouted to his men, but, one by one, they dropped their weapons to the ground.
Jacob took a shuddering breath. “Take them away. Lock them in the cellar of the church until we can find a better place to keep them.”
Since the sound of the explosion had brought a crowd of townspeople to the site, Krupp’s men were easily overpowered and led away.
Celeste Grey moved toward her children, reaching out to draw them into her arms, but Lettie wrenched free, turning toward the rubble.
“He has to be alive!” she rasped from a throat nearly closed with tears. When she dodged toward the building, Jacob lunged after her, catching her around the waist and forcing her to back away.
“No, Jacob! I have to find him. I have to find him!”
“He’s dead, Lettie.”
She bucked against the restraint of his arms. “This is all your fault, Jacob Grey. If you’d simply trusted me—trusted him—none of this would have happened. But you wanted to settle a grudge.”
The words lodged in her throat and her body trembled, her knees giving way. Choking on the heavy dust and her own pain, she sank to the ground, great jagged sobs wracking from her chest and seeming to tear her heart in two.
“No,” she whispered again to herself. “No.”
Despite Jacob’s protests, she waited, huddling with her arms wrapped around her torso, until Mr. Sorenson came from the funeral parlor to poke through the rubble. When he emerged, sadly shaking his head, Lettie felt a numbness enter her limbs and spread through her entire body. And when her mother knelt in the dust beside her and held her close, she was forced to admit that Ethan was actually gone.
Gone.
Epilogue
At the bottom of a small dip of land on the far side of the city cemetery, a simple stone marker had been placed in the earth. Though no sod had been broken, the gathering of mourners was solemn nonetheless.
From her place in the center of the group of people who stood around the marker, Lettie McGuire wrapped her arms around her waist and numbly listened to the final words being spoken by Pastor Phillips. A hot wind blew against her cheeks, reminding Lettie of the fact that she hadn’t cried. Couldn’t cry.
From far away, she seemed to hear Pastor Phillips’s voice—“… ashes to ashes, dust to dust…”—but the words seemed to patter her consciousness like the hollow promise of rain to sun-baked earth.
On the one side, Lettie’s mother stood like a silent bastion of strength, her arm firmly circling Lettie’s waist. On the other side, Jacob stood tall and silent. Except for the Beasleys, Ned, Mr. Goldsmith, Abby Clark, and Mrs. Rupert, the gravesite was bare of any other mourners.
Though many of the townspeople sympathized with Lettie’s loss, a few still felt Ethan’s death had been justified. Once a thief, always a thief, a woman had muttered callously. Although Lettie knew that not everyone felt that way, she’d wanted this to be a private affair.
Now that the pastor had nearly finished his remarks, she wanted to grieve alone. The wind seemed to moan around her. The luff of the grass seemed to echo with the whispered promise of might-have-beens. And Lettie wanted nothing more than silence. Peace.
Soon the pastor’s words had melted into the rustle of the grass and a few of the mourners backed away. There was no coffin, no grave, no body. Only a marker placed on a flat expanse of ground in one corner of the cemetery. Yet the sadness of the group had not lessened because of that fact. Instead, their silent sympathy and support had settled around Lettie’s shoulders like the warmth of the sun.
“Lettie, it’s time to go home.”
Though she heard her mother’s words and understood her concern, Lettie shook her head. “I’ll come in a while. You go on ahead.”
Reluctantly, her mother stepped away and motioned for the others to follow her toward the buggy. Soon only Jacob remained behind.
“Come home, Lettie.”
“No. I need to stay. Just a little longer.”
“You shouldn’t be here alone.”
“Go home, Jacob,” she murmured softly. “I’ll be fine. Please.” She glanced up at her brother, and he studied her a moment before finally nodding.
Settling his hat on the top of his head, he glanced at the marker a moment before saying, “It’s better this way. Although Krupp and most of the Star have been taken out of state for trial, there are still a few members who haven’t been apprehended. If Ethan had been here, they would have killed him.”
Lettie didn’t speak. She couldn’t.
“You loved him a lot, didn’t you, Lettie?”
She nodded. “At first I thought I’d dreamed him. He was so… fascinating. So intriguing.” She swallowed against the tightness of her throat.
Jacob hesitated a moment before saying, “He arranged for a wedding gift. It came this morning.”
Lettie watched in confusion as her brother walked toward the buggy and withdrew a large, paper-wrapped parcel from the back. Returning to her side, Jacob placed it in her outstretched hands, waiting for her to adjust to its weight. Then his hand lifted, and he stroked the curve of her cheek.
“I never meant to hurt you, Lettie. Remember that. I only wanted to make things right.” Standing awkwardly before her, he glanced down at his boots, then looked up and drew her into a quick embrace. When he drew back, he planted a soft kiss on her forehead, then strode toward the buggy. Climbing inside, he slapped the reins over the horse’s rump, then guided the animal toward town, leaving his own horse for her to use when she felt like returning.
Lettie stood for long moments, staring at the ever-decreasing size of the buggy, then turned back to the simple marker. Moving forward
, she brushed a faint skiff of dust from the top of the marker with one hand.
“I put you on low ground, Ethan. No heights. But, then, I guess it doesn’t really matter, since you aren’t really… here.” Her voice faltered, and she took deep drags of the hot summer air. Glancing up, she could see heavy clouds piling on the horizon. Already the wind was beginning to blow more fiercely, much as it had that night she’d first hidden Ethan in the cellar.
“I received a telegram from your mother, Ethan,” Lettie continued. “She seems very nice. She invited me to come and visit soon. Said she wanted to meet the woman who finally captured her son’s heart and made an honorable man out of him. Hear that, Ethan? Honorable. Your family thinks you’re honorable. Even the governor has granted your pardon, though I suppose he’s a little late.”
Her voice grew much softer and filled with regret. “Mama told me this morning that I should go to Chicago right away. She thinks I should get away from Madison and the talk. She even arranged my ticket. But I don’t want to go.” The wind tugged at her skirts and pressed the fabric against her legs. “The garret is lonely without you, Ethan. I think of you every time I step inside. But Chicago would be worse. So big … so empty.”
Glancing down at the heavy parcel in her hands, Lettie hesitated a moment, before tugging at the string and carefully folding the paper back. When she realized it was a thick, heavy book, she frowned in confusion, turning it sideways so that she could read the spine.
Webster’s Dictionary.
“Oh, Ethan,” she sobbed, and her shoulders began to shake as she fought to hold back the tears, but they cascaded over the dams of her lashes, falling with huge drops onto the cover of the book.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she tried to stop the sobs, tried to hold back the pain. But she couldn’t. Instead, she squeezed her eyes shut and sank to her knees, clutching the book tightly against her breasts.
The wind ruffled in the grass behind her. Then a deep voice seeped through her torment.
“If I’d known you’d be so upset after finally obtaining your own dictionary, I would have sent you a box of candy.”
Lettie grew still, quiet. Her eyes opened, staring out at the grass.
“Ah, Lettie. Have you spent so much of your life dreaming that you don’t know when fantasy becomes reality?”
Trying to think, trying to breathe, Lettie slowly twisted to look over her shoulder. A few feet away, Ethan gazed at her from a bruised and battered face, his azure eyes filled with tenderness.
“Ethan?” she murmured, in disbelief.
“In the flesh.” His lips tilted in the rare smile she’d come to cherish. One that held Christmas and the Fourth of July wrapped up in the tilt of his lips.
Clutching the dictionary against her chest, Lettie pushed herself to her feet. Still not believing the evidence of her own faculties, her eyes swept over his form from head to toe, absorbing the cuts and bruises on his face, the bandages peeking from the placket of his shirt, and the sling supporting his arm.
“You’re alive?” she whispered, stepping toward him.
“Well, nearly,” he muttered wryly. “With a broken arm and two cracked ribs, it’s a little hard to tell.”
“How?… Why?” She closed the distance between them and hesitantly lifted a hand to touch a gash over his eye. He flinched, then grew still, and a shuddering warmth filled her body when she realized the flesh beneath her finger was real. Very, very real.
“Jacob had a change of heart, Lettie. When he discovered the extent of the Star’s corruption, he found he couldn’t stomach their ways, despite the group’s original intent. He realized the Star was out for blood—my blood—whether or not they could prove my guilt, so he decided to arrange my ‘death’ before they could get to me.” He took a careful breath of air. “Since he had evidence against Krupp and several other members of the group, he thought it would be best if I disappeared until he could arrange for the Star Council’s deeds to be made public. Once he’d leveled charges against Krupp and Stone, he knew I would be a dead man. But if I were already dead…” He shrugged, then winced.
“Jacob was leading me out of the jailhouse so that he could hide me when you came barreling down the street.” His lips tilted in a rueful smile. “He thought you were being pursued by the Star. He couldn’t let them see me, so—luckily—he shoved me into the cellar before going outside again. Some of the floor collapsed, but I survived.”
A short cry of joy burst from Lettie’s throat and she threw her arms around Ethan’s shoulders, then sprang back at Ethan’s hiss of pain.
“Oh, Ethan, I’m sorry.”
“So am I,” he remarked, his voice husky and filled with a tender longing. His azure eyes became dark and serious. “I need to feel you, know you’re with me again.” He held out his good arm in a welcoming gesture. “Let’s try again. More gently this time.”
Slowly, tenderly, she eased into his embrace, resting her head against his chest.
“Why didn’t someone tell me?”
“Jacob didn’t dare tell anyone until Gerald Stone could be apprehended. He was arrested just a few hours ago in Harrisburg.”
Lettie’s hand ran up and down his back. “I love you, Ethan McGuire.”
He leaned back to gaze down at her face. “Do you love me enough to live with the shadow of my past?”
“Yes.”
“Enough to move to Chicago?”
“Yes.”
“Enough to put up with my job as head security for the Wallaby Banks?”
Lettie eyed him in astonishment. “Are you teasing me?”
“No. They seem to think an ex-thief would be an excellent man for the job.”
“Yes. Yes, yes, yes.”
Ethan’s expression grew solemn, and his eyes filled with a warm devotion.
“I love you, Lettie Grey McGuire.”
“Let’s go home, Ethan.”
Ethan smiled and whispered, “Home.”
Very slowly, he bent toward her. Careful of his injuries, Lettie slipped her hands around his nape and met his lips with her own. Softly, tenderly, they sealed their future together with a kiss. And as Lettie heard the distant rumble of thunder, she remembered her first encounter with Ethan McGuire in the barn so many months before.
At the time, she’d thought her fantasies had come to life. She’d thought she would savor a little of the adventure and excitement she’d found in Ethan’s arms, then remember it long after he’d gone. Little had she known on that rainy day so long before that she would emerge from her trials to be the woman of her fantasies. One who was strong and independent. One who had managed the impossible.…
And stolen the Highwayman’s heart.
More from Lisa Bingham
The Bengal Rubies
A young woman makes a desperate attempt to find freedom, only to fall prisoner once again — to love.
Condemned to be auctioned off to the highest bidder by her own father, Aloise Crawford makes a desperate attempt to escape. When the ship she is imprisoned on docks, she jumps overboard. When she finally swims ashore, she finds herself at the feet of a dark stranger with a face as angry as it is alluring.
For years, Slater McKendrick has lived in hiding, awaiting his chance to seek vengeance against the man who stole his family’s precious jewels, the Bengal Rubies. So when Aloise arrives on his lonely beach hideaway, it seems as if the opportunity has at last been delivered to him. But while he holds her captive on his estate, he recognizes the same broken spirit in her that sees in himself.
As the flame of passion ignites, Aloise knows that Slater remains the force standing between her and freedom. But while she cannot trust him, will she have the strength to resist her newest captor?
Distant Thunder
A chaste beauty, a hardened lawman, and a love impeded by the shadows of the past.
A haunting truth too terrible to share drives beautiful Susan to live as a nun, hiding the reality of her past even from her lifelong frie
nd, Daniel. Growing up, Daniel was her protector and savior, yet when he returns to town, her orderly life is abruptly thrown into disarray. No longer is he the boy from her childhood, but a striking lawman, both dangerous and desirable.
Determined to make Susan his wife, Daniel arouses her deepest passions and unlocks her darkest secrets. But before they can embrace the promise of the future, Susan must confront the past she worked so hard to keep hidden.
Eden Creek
From the seeds of haunting secrets grows passion and love
After a devastating betrayal leaves Ginny Parker broken and alone, she hastily agrees to marry a man she’s never met and start a new life in Eden Creek, Utah. Orrin Ghant only wants a woman to help raise his three daughters, and a companion with whom to share life in the Utah wilderness. But upon the arrival of Ginny, he soon finds his new wife has brought with her more than he could have hoped.
As they slowly settle into their new lives together, Orrin never expects to fall so deeply for Ginny’s sweet smile and gentle charm, nor does Ginny expect to find such comfort in Orin’s strong embrace and the tranquility of Eden Creek. But while their marriage of convenience blossoms into true love, secrets from the past loom over them, testing the bounds of their fragile new beginning.
Silken Promises
In games that are as perilous as they are passionate, everyone plays for keeps.
When Fiona McFee first meets the straight-laced deputy Jacob Grey, he is naked and bound in a field of foxtails. A con man’s daughter through and through, Fiona leaves him there as he swears to never forget her. True to his word, Jacob tracks Fiona to Chicago years later, and he has an offer for her that she can’t refuse: A full pardon for her and her father in exchange for her help in catching a counterfeiter. All she must do is pose as a wealthy British widow and play poker on a tourist train heading West.
With her freedom at stake, as well as another chance to outwit Jacob, Fiona must perfect her poker face as she gambles for the fate of her future. But neither she, nor Jacob, can ignore the undeniable attraction between them, and as the stakes of their deadly game soar to new heights, the thin line between inevitable danger and unyielding desire begins to blur.
Silken Dreams Page 34
