“I feel like I’ve been rolled down a goddamn hill. Wait a minute!” His face glowered with a sudden realization. “That bastard Digby stabbed me!” He touched a tentative hand to his chest and withdrew fingers coated with gore but further probing revealed no wound. He looked at Ella in confusion.
Ella laughed and fought not to give into hysteria. She threw her arms around him and crushed him to her until they both fell over in the dirt and the bushes.
“Ouch, Ella,” Rowan said with annoyance. “I’ve got every kind of bruise and cut you can imagine.”
“Oh, Rowan,” Ella said, wiping tears from her face and laughing outright again. “I can’t even begin to explain to you what happened and I’m not sure you’d believe me if I did.”
“Okay, you’re going to have to get off me, babe,” Rowan said, patting her bottom to urge her to move off of him. “We can have this reunion dance or whatever it is some place a little less hard and wet.”
“Rowan? Rowan, is that you down there?”
Ella and Rowan lifted their heads to see Marvel carefully skidding down the ravine to where they were sitting.
“What are you doing down here?” she asked. “Oh, my God, Rowan! You’re hurt! Did they shoot you? What happened?”
Rowan got to his feet and held out a hand to help Ella up. “It’s not my blood,” he lied, glancing at Ella who had stopped laughing and was now frowning at Marvel as she descended the hill.
“There’s been a battle going on. Did you miss it?” Marvel said, dusting off dirt from her dress.
“A battle? What are you talking about?” Rowan, perhaps seeing how clean Marvel looked, began to slap dirt off Ella’s robe. He looked at her in confusion. “Why are you out here in your dressing gown?”
“Yes, we were attacked!” Marvel said. “Josh said they were desert rats. There were twenty of them! Or more! All armed and shooting. I cannot believe you didn’t know about it. Every man in the camp was shooting and fighting them off.”
“Are they gone now?” Rowan asked, looking up the ravine where the camp was.
“Yes, Josh says we ran them off. He thinks they were trying to rob the payroll.”
“How did they know where it was?” Rowan asked as he and Ella began to climb up the ravine together.
“That’s just what Mr. Carter wants to know!”
Julia stood at the base of the valley, partially hidden by a large desert shrub and watched as the last of Ammon’s men galloped away into the night. She listened to the sounds of their horses’ thundering hooves fading until all that was left was the eerie quiet of a silent Egyptian night.
She had been able to keep her eye on Ammon’s white robes for awhile during the fracas but eventually she lost sight of him. She heard the guns—so many guns! And everyone seemed to be yelling at once. It didn’t seem to have lasted very long, it felt like minutes, really, and then she was watching the men race away on their ponies, over the rise and out of the valley. When she saw them go, her heart began to pound in her ears and her throat went suddenly dry—even more than when she was watching the battle below. She found herself praying they weren’t leaving because they’d seen their leader fall. She prayed they were leaving because Ammon had told them to. She then prayed he wasn’t leading them in their flight away from the camp.
Ammon had positioned her here where she might be close enough to see the battle but not too close to be harmed. He had kissed her then—unusual for him in front of the men—and taken her pony and indicated to her that she was to wait for him.
He had taken her pony.
Julia listened to the sounds of camp as it returned to normal. She thought she could hear the deep rumble of Mr. Spenser yelling to his men and the higher pitched voices of the camp servants in response. At one point she heard a horse whinny loudly and she hoped none of them had been hurt in the battle.
What folly this had been. To attack the camp—even with the element of surprise, they had been hopelessly outnumbered. How desperate had she been to urge him to do this?
She wiped her hands on her dress. It was filthy and in virtual rags. Except for one washing in a creek polluted with camel dung, she had not cleaned it or changed it in the five months she had lived with Ammon’s people.
She pulled the branches of the bushes apart to start walking in the direction Ammon’s men had gone when suddenly, she heard a sound that made her whirl around. It was the sound of a stealthy footstep, behind her.
He had come back for her!
“Ammon?” she cried out, and then immediately cursed herself. He would want to steal away secretly, of course. Why else would he be creeping back to her so silently? It didn’t matter. None of it did. The only thing that mattered was that he had returned for her.
She emerged from the bushes. I knew you wouldn’t leave me, she thought, her heart racing with anticipation. I knew you wouldn’t.
“I hate to disappoint you, my dove.”
Julia stopped. That didn’t make sense. That voice didn’t make sense.
He tore the branches aside from the highest bush that separated them and grinned at her.
It was Edward.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Julia gasped when she saw him. His clothes were soiled and disheveled but it was the look in his eye that astonished her the most. It was wild, fevered.
And utterly mad.
“You!” she said and took a step backward. The disappointment at not seeing Ammon was so intense, she didn’t even care that he had a gun in his hand and that it was pointed at her.
“Yes, my sweet. Or perhaps not so sweet? I say, precious, you’ve gone native. I’ll be doing your family a favor by putting a bullet between your eyes. Save your father the trouble. Or did you think he’d just welcome you home after you’d rolled about in the muckheap with every sand wog in the Sahara?”
Julia stood facing him and felt the cavernous emptiness of her loss roll over her in a gut-wrenching wave. Would she really never see him again? Was he really gone for good?
Without warning, she pressed her fists to her temples and screamed in a long wail of anguished frustration.
“I say, old girl,” Digby said casually, “screaming won’t help.” He pointed the gun at her face. “Everyone in camp is just a tick distracted at the moment as I’m sure you can imagine. Which is why they won’t think a thing of finding your body with a bullet hole in it. These things happen in a battle, you know. People get hurt.”
“I don’t care,” she said, sinking to her knees on the ground.
“Jolly sensible, my dear,” Digby said, cocking the gun, “for everyone concerned. I say, you do look a sight. Never would have thought it of you, Julia. You were never that keen when I had a go at you.”
“If you’re going to kill me, just do it,” Julia said dully, staring down at her hands. “Just bloody well do it,” she whispered, closing her eyes, and letting her misery cascade over her.
“If you do, it’ll be the last thing you do.”
Julia jerked her head up to see a strange man walking quickly up to them. The front of his shirt was covered in blood and he had a large gun pointed at Digby. She watched her husband’s face go white.
“It’s not p-p-possible,” Digby stuttered. “I…you’re dead.”
“What makes you think that, asshole?” the stranger said, glancing briefly at Julia. “You okay, ma’am?”
Julia nodded dumbly and slowly got to her feet.
“Would it be because you stabbed me and left me for dead an hour ago?”
“It’s not possible!” Digby repeated, turning his body toward Rowan as if to shoot him and finish the job once and for all.
“Put the gun down, Digby,” Rowan said.
Digby wheeled back to Julia who was looking between the two of them with growing confusion. “You will not stop me this time!” he cried, aiming the gun at Julia.
Rowan shot him in the shoulder and took a step nearer as Digby clutched his shoulder and swung the gun in Rowan’s direction. Before he coul
d raise it to aim, Rowan shot him again. Digby stood stunned for a moment and then dropped his weapon. He looked down at the small spray of blood that spurted from the center of his chest and then up at Rowan. He sank to his knees and then fell face-first into the hard packed dirt on the trail.
Rowan scooped up the dropped gun, stepped over Digby’s body and put his hand on Julia’s arm. She looked at Edward’s body on the ground. The handsome stranger was talking to her as if he knew her. It felt like it was all happening in a dream. She looked into his face and realized he had kind eyes.
“Julia?” Rowan gave her arm a light shake. “You okay? You’re not gonna faint on me, are you?”
Julia’s large blue eyes widened as she looked back and forth from Rowan to Digby.
“You really do exist,” she said, then closed her eyes and fainted.
Julia woke up in Rowan’s arms as he carried her back to camp. He glanced down at her. “Hey, there. How you feeling?”
“You’re Ella’s husband?”
“I am.”
“Is Ella here?”
“Julia!” Ella ran out of their tent when she saw them approach and Rowan set Julia on her feet. Ella threw her arms around her friend. “We heard you scream,” Ella said. “Are you okay?” She pulled a long matted curl out of Julia’s face.
“My Lord, Ella,” Julia said, taking a step back to get a better look at her, “you are going to have this baby within minutes. Your husband just saved me. Edward was intent on shooting me, if you can believe it! Oh, Ella, Ammon left me!” Julia burst into tears and Ella pulled her into her arms and patted her on the back. She looked at Rowan over Julia’s shoulder.
“What happened?” she asked.
Rowan ran a hand through his thick brown hair and shrugged. “Well, Digby’s dead.”
“Yes, dead,” Julia said pulling out of Ella’s arms. She faced Rowan. “Thank you. I am so sorry not to have said that before now. You saved my life.”
“My absolute pleasure, ma’am. I’m not sure I didn’t do it mostly for myself.”
Julia turned back to Ella. “Ammon’s through with me.” Her lips quivered in her attempt not to cry.
“I know, sweetie,” Ella said, taking her hand and leading her toward their tent. “You told me. Let’s have some tea. Doesn’t that always make everything better?”
Marvel stood in the doorway of the tent barring their entry. When they heard Julia’s scream, Rowan had grabbed Marvel’s gun and took off at a run but not before ordering the two women directly back to Rowan and Ella’s tent.
“Maybe my tent would be better,” Marvel said ominously, looking at Rowan, who frowned.
“Your tent?” Rowan said. “Why?”
“Oh, she’s talking about Abdullah,” Ella said, looking at Julia as if trying to gauge how upsetting a dead Arab at her feet while drinking a cup of tea might be for her.
“Abdullah?” Rowan said. “Digby’s man?”
“Can we talk about this another time?” Ella asked, starting to steer Julia toward Marvel’s tent. “Thank you, Miss Newton. I’ll take it from here.” Ella couldn’t help notice how attentive Marvel always seemed toward Rowan. Or was she this way with every man?
Rowan stopped Ella with a hand on her arm. “You two go on,” he said to Marvel. “We’ll be along in a minute.”
Marvel tucked Julia’s arm under hers and began to lead her down the path toward her tent. “Now, Lady Digby, not to worry,” she said. “Mr. Spenser has some housekeeping to do in Ella’s tent and he’s just run off to get what he needs to do that so we’ll have tea in my tent. Will that be alright?”
Julia looked over her shoulder at Ella as she was led away as if to ask: who is this person?
Rowan turned to Ella. “Why is Abdullah in our tent?”
Ella could see he was starting to work himself up over it and all of a sudden she wasn’t feeling very perky. The thought of a long explanation felt suddenly more wearing than the actual conversation.
“Look, Rowan,” she said with a heavy sigh, “I just haven’t had the chance to tell you the whole story, is all,” she said. “After you lit out last night to rescue poor frail Miss Newton, I got a visitor.”
“Abdullah?” Rowan raked a hand through his hair, his eyes darting from Ella’s face to the tent opening as if envisioning the scene with his pregnant wife being attacked in the night by the giant Arab.
“No, Ra came in with this big-ass knife and lunged at me.”
“I’ll kill him.”
“Well, you might not need to. Anyway, Abdullah must have been lurking about because he came in and the two fought.”
“And Ra killed him?”
Ella nodded.
“But then why—”
“I was able to get away while they were fighting. Abdulla broke Ra’s arm and after Ra killed him, he ran away.”
Rowan was silent for a moment. “So Abdullah tried to save you.”
“He did save me, Rowan. If it hadn’t been for him, I wouldn’t be here.” She touched her stomach. “We wouldn’t be here. And speaking of that, you know, I don’t feel so good at the moment. If you think you could either find me a place to lie down or move Abdullah’s body, I really think I’m about three hours from my worst nightmare coming true.”
Rowan ran his fingers down her arm and took her hand. “You think you’re in labor?” He led her to a camp chair by the opening of the tent.
“I don’t know for sure,” she said, wincing, as she eased herself into the chair, “having never been in labor before, but I’m willing to bet if labor is one of the top five most miserable things you can feel in your life then I’m easily inching my way into the ballpark.”
* * * *
Twenty minutes later, Ella was lying on a clean camp bed in Josh Spenser’s tent with Rowan sitting on a chair beside her.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she said to him as she stared up at the tent ceiling, the sheets surrounding her were bunched in her fists. “I can’t believe I’m not going to make it to an effing hospital. Even a damn field hospital would be better than a tent!”
“It’s gonna be fine, Ella. Trust me. I’ve delivered a few babies before.”
“I want a hospital!” Ella wailed. “I want drugs and ice chips!”
Julia slipped into the tent and tugged on Rowan’s sleeve. “I can help. I’ve done this before.”
“You have not,” Ella snapped. “She’s lying, Rowan. I’m not a horse, Julia. You’ve never done this with a human being.”
“I did so. I helped deliver Waddi’s baby at the camp not two weeks ago.”
“You mean you watched Gita do it,” Ella panted.
“Well, she let me bring in the water.”
“I’m going to die.”
“I know I can be of assistance, Mr. Pierce.”
“I’m sure you can, darlin’,” Rowan said. “For starters, you can tell Spenser to get the cook fire going—”
“Oh, Jesus, Rowan if you start talking about ripping my petticoat into strips I’m going to seriously lose confidence in you.”
“You just focus on yourself and Tater,” Rowan said, squeezing her hand. “We may have to do this first one without drugs, but I know you can do it.”
“Do I have a damn choice?!”
“No, but you have free rein to cuss as much as you want.”
“Shit, Rowan, I do that when I’m not giving birth.”
“That is true,” Julia said. “She definitely does. I have to say I still can’t believe you’re real, Mr. Pierce. I was convinced Ella made you up.”
“I’m real, darlin,’” Rowan said. “But I am going to need lots of clean sheets. As many as you can find. Ask Miss Newton. She’s a genius at finding anything.”
“Jolly good,” Julia said. “You’re doing marvelously, Ella. Really smashing job so far.”
“Get OUT!” Ella yelled as another contraction edged its way to a sickening peak, making her clutch Rowan’s hand. “Oh, my God, that hurts!”
>
“I know, babe, I’m sorry. Try to pant. I know you didn’t get to take any childbirth classes but breathing in short bursts helps manage the pain.”
He began panting to demonstrate and Ella tried to mimic his sounds. “Who the hell is this Miss Newton?” she gasped between breaths.
“What?” Rowan wiped the sweat forming on her forehead. “What are you talking about? You know who she—”
“Was she, like, your girlfriend while I was being held captive with people trying to kill me and rape me?”
“What? No. Don’t be ridiculous.”
The contraction receded and Ella stopped panting. She looked at him. “Oh, my God,” she said. “She was your girlfriend.”
“Look,” Rowan said, “maybe she was hoping for something, maybe, but nothing happened. Why are we talking about this now?”
“It takes my mind off the next…oh, God, Rowan, it’s coming! Dear Lord, I don’t think I can stand it!” Ella tensed up and closed her eyes, clenching Rowan’s hand in hers.
“Ella, keep panting!” Rowan said. “Don’t hold your breath—”
The rest of his sentence was drowned out by her scream.
“Good girl,” he said, easing her knees apart as the pain began to release her. She went limp against the bed. “I think we’re nearly there, love,” he said.
“I want Halima,” Ella whimpered. “Where is Halima? I need her!”
Julia hurried into the tent with a basin of steaming water and a stack of clean towels under one arm. “Dear Lord, Ella, the whole camp can hear you all the way down to the dig site!”
“Rowan, I’m going to kill her so unless you want that on your conscious…Oh, oh, oh! Another one! Here comes another one!”
“Julia,” Rowan said, “put those down and get behind her. Remember to breathe, El. Breathe.”
“I can’t! It hurts too much. I can’t do it!”
Rowan pulled Julia around the bed and positioned her behind Ella. He brought Ella up into a semi-sitting position. “Push back against Julia,” he said to her. “Come on, push against the pain. Push hard!”
Rowan plunged his hands into the hot water and soaped up. He quickly dried his hands and turned back to her. She had collapsed against Julia who was wiping her brow.
Journey to the Lost Tomb (Rowan and Ella Book 2) Page 30
