The Marshalls Boxed Set (Texas Heroes: The Marshalls Books 1-3)

by Jean Brashear

  Fear shuddered through her, but Quinn’s hand squeezed hers, and she calmed.

  “We must be very quiet,” Iain whispered into her ear. “There are men sleeping in the hall.”

  Slowly, hardly daring to breathe, Helen followed Iain down the stairs and along the darkest edge of the hall’s outer walls. When one of the men sleeping on a pallet nearby turned over restlessly, she stifled her gasp of fear. She stumbled, barely righting herself before she tripped over a man she hadn’t seen.

  Iain reached back and grasped her hand, as if to give her courage. He looked at her tenderly. She could have held that gaze forever, so much did it portend.

  What was she thinking? This man didn’t believe in her Sight, yet he risked his life to help her. If she made it out, he must return post-haste or be banished forever. If he were caught helping her escape…the consequences did not bear consideration.

  Helen shuddered, as her visions of his naked, bleeding back flared once more.

  Iain turned and gave her a questioning glance. Around the pain and guilt that swamped her, Helen managed a reassuring smile.

  Just as they neared the main entrance, he drew her into a dark alcove she hadn’t noticed on her rare visits downstairs. They made quick progress down the corridor, Helen grateful for his hand, since she could see little of their path.

  The damp mustiness of stone passages rarely used assaulted her nose. Her foot slipped on the slick pathway, but Iain brought her up quickly to his side, steadying her with one hand around her waist.

  In the dimness, her breath caught at the blaze in the eyes she knew were green but appeared black at this moment.

  He gently cradled her cheek with one hand and brought her up hard against him. He closed his eyes and breathed out a curse.

  With one finger over his lips for silence, Iain pulled away and led onward.

  Helen thought she heard a noise behind them, but couldn’t be sure. The trip-hammer beat of her heart pounded in her ears.

  After a winding journey down the dark corridor, Iain halted, feeling with his free hand along the wall. Helen felt a breath of night air rush toward her; as her eyes adjusted, she could see out onto the rolling hills.

  They must be outside the bailey.

  Sliding the door gently back in place behind them, Iain turned and beckoned her to follow. They trod a narrow path hugging the outer walls, until they reached a small footpath leading away from the castle.

  Helen’s jubilation knew no bounds. They were outside!

  She was free!

  Iain lifted her up on the back of a mare and knelt to check the muffling pads he’d fastened on the hooves of both horses. Swinging himself up on the back of his destrier, he gestured with his head the direction in which they would go.

  Helen’s heart beat madly with relief and the joy of knowing that soon she would be back with her father, and this long nightmare would be over. She wanted to shout with her elation and praise Iain for his stealth and courage in getting her away from the madman.

  As they neared the tree line ahead, she turned to see if she could catch his attention and give him a smile to convey what she felt.

  But he wasn’t smiling.

  Staring hard at the forest, his expression grim, he turned to her just as she heard the thunder of many hoofbeats coming from within the trees.

  “Ride, Helen!” Iain ordered. “Ride for your life! I’ll hold them off! We’ve been found out!”

  The next moments passed in a blur. She couldn’t leave him, but she had no weapons. His face grim, he drew his sword and began to parry the horsemen surrounding them.

  She hesitated too long. Her chance to escape drifted away like smoke.

  Her horse reared, and she felt herself slipping…as the ground rushed up to meet her, she cried out for him.

  “Iain!”

  Then no more.

  Josh stood in the doorway, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Elena was stretched out on the bed, the only light from candles, whimpering the name of that man.

  Iain.

  Anguish shot through him and he started forward, but Lorie looked up suddenly and motioned him to be still.

  What in the devil was going on here?

  Quinn knelt at Elena’s side, her hand tucked in his, his head bowed and shoulders sagging.

  “Oh, God, no…Iain! Don’t take him, please. It’s my fault, not his… Tell Sir Richard it is my doing,” she moaned restlessly, every line of her body rigid with fear. The voice was lower, the accent clearly Scottish.

  What the hell?

  Quinn’s head rose and he squeezed her hand. Before he knew he was being watched, Josh saw dread and pain in his brother’s face. Then Quinn saw him and carefully schooled his expression. He gestured for Josh to stay back.

  Then his attention returned to Elena.

  Josh struggled to obey. He wanted to be near her; only his trust in Quinn held him back. This was eerily like the times she’d awakened with nightmares or swooned at the Cliff Dwellings and White Sands.

  “Elena,” Quinn spoke softly. “Tell me what you see.”

  Her eyelids still closed, she murmured. “The escape… Iain got me out, but they caught us.” Her breathing became labored. “Sir Richard will hurt him…it’s my fault. It must be the whipping I foresaw—oh, no! No—don’t hurt him, please. It’s my fault…take me…” Her pleading tone almost broke Josh’s heart.

  “Who is Sir Richard, Elena?”

  “My name is Helen. Lady Helen Douglas…” she murmured.

  “Lady Helen, who is Sir Richard?”

  “He is holding me hostage…wants to hurt me…he frightens me so…” Her agitation increased.

  Quinn spoke very calmly, stroking her forehead. “Tell me about Iain, Lady Helen.”

  “He—he has green eyes that seem so…familiar…”

  Josh could barely breathe.

  “He… I saw him…an odd chariot with no horses… It carried him in such a manner as I have never seen…”

  It was hard to hear her voice over the pounding of his heart. Such a different voice coming from that familiar throat.

  “What are these visions, Lady Helen?”

  “I have the Sight, though I do not want it. At times, all goes dark, then a bright light comes and I see things…” She twisted on the bed, increasingly agitated. Josh clenched his fists to keep from going to her, but he didn’t dare distract Quinn.

  “I saw them hurting him…his back running red from the lashes—” She began to whimper, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The Sight tells me that he will die from a dagger in the back and…it will be all my doing. Because he tried to protect me.”

  Each breath was a rattling gasp.

  “I can’t let her go on,” Quinn said. Grasping both her hands in his, he spoke firmly. “Elena…it’s time to come back… Elena, it’s Quinn. You’re all right. I’m going to count to three. Take a deep breath and follow my voice back to the light.”

  Josh could barely breathe himself as he watched. As he ached to go to her.

  After what felt like decades, her breathing slowed, evened out.

  Quinn exhaled his relief, then turned to Josh and motioned him near. “She needs your comfort, Josh, only that. Don’t question her until we’ve talked,” he ordered.

  Josh would have bristled at Quinn’s brisk command had he not been so worried about Elena. What in the hell was going on?

  But he shoved his worries aside and concentrated on soothing her.

  Sitting down on the bed, he drew her onto his lap and cuddled her close, surrounding her with his strength and his love.

  He did love her, more than simply words spoken in the heat of passion. It didn’t matter whether or not it made sense or had a future.

  He loved Elena, and there had to be a way to work all of this out.

  Her eyelids began to flutter.

  “Hey, there…everything’s all right. It’s me, Josh. You’re safe…you don’t have to be afraid.”

  T
hen her eyes popped open in stark terror.

  “You’re safe, Elena. You’re with me. Everything’s okay.”

  She buried her face in his neck, trembling. Her fingers clutched at his chest, and she began feeling frantically over him.

  “It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m not hurt.”

  Her glazed eyes began to clear, and she sagged against him as it sank into her brain where she was. “Oh, Josh, I’m so afraid for you.”

  “Sh-h, love…it’s okay. I’m fine, and you don’t have to worry. I won’t get hurt.” He raised his eyes to Quinn’s, disheartened to see the doubt and concern in his brother’s expression.

  “I’ll go make us all tea,” Lorie offered.

  “Better make it coffee,” Quinn amended. “I don’t think anyone’s going to get any more sleep tonight.”

  Josh frowned but focused his attention on the woman trembling in his arms. When he felt hot tears against his neck, he rubbed her back and whispered, “Elena, please don’t worry. I’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

  Quinn turned to follow Lorie, then paused at the door to speak. “As soon as you feel like it, Elena, let’s meet in the living room and talk.”

  Josh barely heard Elena’s answering assent but nodded at his brother, confusion foremost in his mind.

  Elena curled up on the buttery leather sofa, Josh’s arm around her. The lethargy remained from the experience with Quinn; once she quit shivering, her entire body felt weak and her soul more troubled than ever.

  But it helped to feel the kindness that surrounded her. The strength Josh had in abundance.

  Finally, she asked the question she’d dreaded having answered. “What did you find out, Quinn?”

  He turned from where he’d been staring into the flames snapping in the fireplace, his intense, troubled gaze sending a dart of fear to clench her stomach.

  Before answering her, he looked at his brother, the great love between them evident. “Josh, tell me again what that old woman told you.”

  Josh stirred, darting an uneasy glance in her direction. “What? Come on, Quinn—I told you it was just a party trick.”

  Quinn’s topaz eyes went sharp. “Cut the crap. This is serious, as serious as I’ve ever been. I know you don’t want to believe that anything outside what you can touch and taste and see can be real, but I’m telling you, little brother, that I’m as worried now as I was when that maniac was after Lorie.”

  Lorie’s gasp underscored his concerns.

  Elena could tell that Josh didn’t want to believe it.

  “Damn it, Quinn, I know you mean well, but—” He raked his fingers through his tousled hair. “Okay, okay, I’m listening. But I don’t promise to believe it.”

  “So?” Quinn prompted. “What did the old woman tell you?”

  “She said that I had sacrificed my life for love in another time.” Josh looked embarrassed as he met Elena’s gaze. “She told me that my soulmate was alive in this time and was in great danger. That she, uh…that she needed me once more.”

  Elena was staggered.

  “Elena, how much do you remember of what just happened in there?” Quinn asked.

  “Mostly a feeling,” she answered. “A lot of fear, a sense of great danger…”

  “You called out for Iain,” Josh spoke, a subtle accusation in his tone. “You whimpered and said he would be hurt and it was your fault. You said—”

  Quinn interrupted him. “Did you hear her say that Iain had green eyes? That he would die protecting her, die from a dagger in the back?”

  Elena gasped, then turned to look at Josh, whose face mirrored warring confusion and disbelief.

  “So?” Josh countered.

  “So, brother, I woke up tonight with the darkest vision I’ve had since the stalker…and I saw you in grave danger. I felt someone’s deep, twisted hatred, and—” He swiveled back to Elena. “Is there a barn on your place that’s been abandoned?”

  She nodded.

  “Does it have a beam with your name and the name Carmen carved into it?”

  Elena’s stomach plummeted. “What did you see?”

  “Nothing clear, but I have a very bad feeling about it, and it has to do with Josh.”

  “Oh, God—” She turned to Josh, grasping his arm. “You have to go back to L.A., so you’ll be safe. If you come with me, Richard will kill you, I know he will.” Tears blurring her vision, she pleaded, “Please, Josh, please promise me you’ll stay away from there.”

  “I’m promising no such thing. If you go back, I go back. It’s that simple. Try and stop me. But that has nothing to do with any dreams.”

  Elena turned a pleading glance toward Quinn.

  “Hear me out, Josh.” He exhaled heavily. “I think the old woman was right. I think that Elena’s been dreaming of a previous lifetime you shared, that you did give your life to protect her.”

  Elena felt Josh tense, but surprisingly, he didn’t interrupt.

  “What concerns me most is that if you two have shared an existence before, there’s no reason that her husband couldn’t have shared it with you.” He intensified his gaze in Josh’s direction. “I don’t kid myself that all of us and a full regiment could stop you from following Elena, much as I’d like to keep you out of harm’s way.”

  He cast a rueful grin at his brother. “But what I want you to realize and keep in mind if you’re hell-bent on doing this, is the possibility that this Sir Richard may have been the one to kill you, and that he is alive, as well, in the person of Elena’s husband.

  “I want you to proceed very, very carefully, because I trust what I’m feeling, though I’d be happy to be proven wrong.” His look deadly serious, he continued, “Josh, this feels far too much like the sense of menace that hounded me when Lorie was in danger and when our sister died. Though you may not like it, there are many things in this world that can’t be explained by logic or the five senses. I want you to take this seriously.”

  He switched his attention to Elena. “And as for you, I feel great danger around you as well. But even if this is all an illusion, don’t forget that there’s a man back there who has no compunction about hurting you. You need to back off, Elena, and let me find the proper authorities to take a look at the situation.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. I’m expecting a call back today regarding this Deputy Blackwell. I want you to promise me that you won’t take any action until I get a read on him.”

  Then he turned once again to his brother. “And you—suspend your cynicism for now,” he commanded. “Her life and your own may depend upon it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  As she often did when she needed to work out a problem, Carmen Zaragosa was out riding, bent over her horse’s back, the wind whipping tears of anger from her eyes as she rode over the land she knew so well from her childhood.

  She and the deputy had had one doozy of a shouting match after she’d learned that Elena not only had not waited for Carmen to get Greg’s cell number for her but that Greg had every intention of telling Elena that she needed to come back.

  Maybe he didn’t know, as he’d protested, that Elena’s sense of duty would eat at her so that she would ignore her own safety. He was new in town and didn’t understand the danger she was in, not really.

  Who Carmen was most furious at was herself for even suggesting that Elena speak to him. Elena had been her best friend, growing up. They’d done everything together: shared dolls, discussed boyfriends, worried over bra sizes.

  If anything happened to her…

  Oh, God, if only she knew how to find Elena to be sure she wasn’t planning to return.

  But Elena hadn’t called Greg back, either.

  What did that mean? Was she even safe?

  I think I might know a little about something Richard is doing, and it’s…bad.

  What if…oh no—what if the reason Elena hadn’t called back was because Kruger had already found her?

  She rode hard, trying to outrun her fear
s. She had to think…what could she possibly do to help her friend? Her head was pounding.

  No. That was the sound of horses’ hooves.

  The sight that greeted her brought a cold dose of reality pouring over her. She realized that, in her anger and frustration, she’d headed toward the old barn where she and Elena used to hide out from their parents when they were unhappy.

  The man with the rifle pointed straight at her seemed to think it was a bad idea.

  Carmen tugged on the reins, turning her horse to flee.

  The two men in the jeep with guns trained on her seemed to think she should reconsider.

  A few minutes later Richard Kruger smiled, and a shudder ran through Carmen. “Well, well…what have we here, Manny?”

  “El mujer esta loca, Señor Kruger. Ella es peligrosa.”

  “Crazy and dangerous? I’m not too worried.” The gleam in his eyes sent a sickening pang into Carmen’s gut. “What are you doing on my land?”

  “It’s not your land.” Shut up, Carmen. Cool down.

  One eyebrow arched. “Ah, yes. I’ve heard that you and my wife were bosom buddies.” His gaze raked her body. “Though your bosom is clearly superior.”

  She wanted to be sick.

  “I believe we’ll grant you our hospitality.”

  “You can’t keep me here.”

  One eyebrow arched. “I cannot?”

  Of course he could. She was a fool to have come.

  He turned away. “Hold her well, Manny. If town gossip is to be believed, she’ll lure that nosy deputy to us.”

  Carmen held her ground, determined not to show her fear. She sniffed her disdain, tossing her head. “Deputy Blackwell is no friend of mine.”

  “How did you know which deputy I meant?” Kruger said in a silky tone.

  Her heart quailed but she held her ground. “He means nothing to me.”

  “So you say.” Rubbing his chin and smiling complacently, Kruger paused before turning away. “But I have reports on how the deputy has been sniffing around you.” He moved one step closer, stroking a finger down the front of her, hovering over one breast. “Perhaps I should see what has his interest…”