by Heidi Betts
"Christ!” he swore aloud.
The marshal turned around and gave Caleb a look. “What is it, son? Did you find something?"
Caleb threw the dress onto the bed and ran out of the room.
Thompson followed close on his heels.
"It's Sabrina,” he called back. “She's the one trying to hurt Rebecca. She's probably on her way to the house right now."
Rebecca set her stitching on the cushion beside her and gave a little stretch. The baby quilt was coming along nicely.
"Would you like some tea?” Megan asked, hopping up from her seat on the settee, where she was happily reviewing some of the paperwork she did for Caleb and the Express office. “I'd be happy to make some for you, since Bessie has already gone to bed."
"I'd love some tea,” Rebecca answered. “As long as you promise not to put anything but tea leaves and a cinnamon stick in. No strange herbs, mind you."
Megan looked shocked that Rebecca could joke about such a thing.
"I'm fine now,” Rebecca pointed out. “In fact, I think I'll help."
"I don't think that's a good idea.” Her sister-in-law chewed on the inside of her bottom lip. “Caleb would be furious if he knew I even let you come downstairs. You're still supposed to be in bed."
"I told you, I feel fine. I couldn't stand being cooped up in that room another minute. I'll sit perfectly still and watch you do all the work. All right?"
"All right,” Megan agreed. “But you can't tell Caleb. He'll come after me with a switch if he ever finds out."
"It will be our secret. I promise."
Megan went ahead, letting Rebecca follow at her own, much slower pace.
In truth, Rebecca felt marvelous. All signs of the pennyroyal poisoning had long since disappeared, and she was back to her usual self. She smiled. Knowing Caleb loved her had something to do with her quick recovery, she was sure.
She sat at the kitchen table and watched as Megan put on the water to boil and began to set the serving tray. She was about to ask Megan to run upstairs for her shawl when shouts sounded outside, followed by several loud animal screams. Megan dropped the rag in her hand and ran toward the parlor.
She flew back into the room before Rebecca, heavy with child, could even struggle from her chair. “The barn's on fire!” she panted. “Frank and Papa are trying to put it out."
"Dear Lord!"
"You stay here. I'll go help."
Rebecca had never felt so helpless in all her life. She comforted herself with the thought that, even if she hadn't recently recovered from a brush with death, her present condition still wouldn't have allowed her to do much. Her huge girth would have been more of a hindrance than a help. But she couldn't just sit there. She had to know what was going on.
It took her a long minute to lever herself up from the chair. Then she took the tea kettle off its burner before leaving the kitchen. She walked through the dining room and hallway and into the parlor, where she would be able to see the barn from the side window.
She pulled back the draperies and stared at the orange flames licking at the corner of the barn. Holbrook and Megan were busy throwing buckets of water on the Maze, as well as slapping at it with horse blankets. Rebecca began to wonder where Frank was, until she saw the horses charge out of the barn. He soon followed and took up fighting the fire.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
She whirled around. In the doorway of the parlor stood a tall woman dressed in a gown the color of sunflowers. Rebecca noticed sprigs of hay hanging at its hem, as well as several dirty smudges and a tear just below the waist. She raised her eyes and stared at the woman's face. Loose tendrils of midnight-black hair hung around her cheeks from a lopsided arrangement of curls. Her expression was hard, her blue eyes cold.
"I wasn't sure what I would do to get you alone until I got here. The fire was a nice touch, I think. It ought to keep them occupied for a while."
Even if Rebecca hadn't found a single feature familiar, she would have recognized that hard, grating voice in a minute. “You look ... different, Sabrina,” she said.
Sabrina laughed. “Yes. I couldn't very well stay in town without changing my appearance. You'd be amazed at what coloring your hair can do. No one knew who I was. No one."
Rebecca cleared her throat, unsure what to do. She wasn't even sure why Sabrina had come. “I didn't realize you'd stayed in Leavenworth."
"Of course not. Everyone thought Caleb sent me away.” Her voice held a sharp edge. “But he couldn't get rid of me that easily. I will not be pushed aside for some homely, no-account seamstress. Caleb thought he could give me a little money and send me on my way, but he was wrong. I decide when to call it quits. I decide! Caleb should be with me. And if you hadn't tricked him into marrying you, he would have come back to me."
A chill ran down Rebecca's spine. For the first time since she had turned around to see Sabrina across the room, she felt a real shiver of fear.
"I didn't trick Caleb, Sabrina,” she tried to reason. “Truly, I didn't. I really didn't even want to marry him. In fact, you can have him."
Sabrina squinted, confused.
"Yes,” she hurried on. “Why, all we have to do is file for divorce. As soon as that's taken care of, he'll be all yours."
While Rebecca didn't mean a word of it, she decided to say whatever she must to mollify Sabrina. If only she could get Sabrina away from the door. It was her only means of escape.
Rebecca began to move away from the window. Little by little she rounded the room. She gave a sigh of relief when Sabrina took the bait and started to move also, keeping parallel to her.
"Caleb would never leave you now. Not with the brat.” She waved a shaky hand at Rebecca's stomach.
Rebecca settled a hand on the mound of her belly. “Caleb won't care about me once the baby is born. I didn't really want it anyway. I'd be happy to leave it here and go away."
Sabrina took a moment to digest that piece of information. Then she seemed to come out of her stupor. She shook her head and took several strides toward Rebecca.
Rebecca moved quickly aside until she stood at the opening of the parlor. Her breathing became shallow, her nerves taut.
"You would never do that. Caleb would never let you. No, I have to get you out of the picture—for good."
Hearing that, Rebecca turned and raced for the front door. She yanked it open just as Sabrina grabbed hold of her hair and jerked her backward.
"You're going to die, Rebecca,” Sabrina said in a singsong voice. “How would you like to go? I could take you out to the barn and burn you alive, but there might be witnesses.” She twisted her fist in Rebecca's hair and steered her into the dining room.
"No, I think I'll use a knife. You have a sharp knife in the kitchen, don't you, Rebecca?” She kicked open the door and pushed Rebecca into the room ahead of her. “Let's see, where would the longest, sharpest knife be? I planned to cut you all along, you know. Only things didn't go as perfectly as I'd planned. No matter, I'll fix it right now."
Rebecca turned her head slightly and found herself pressed against the counter. She spotted the tea kettle almost immediately and prayed for a chance to reach it.
Sabrina searched cupboards and drawers for the perfect murder weapon. She swung around, a helpless Rebecca in tow, and released a sigh of pleasure. “There's one,” she said happily. “Right next to the cutting board. Now, how could I have missed that?"
Rebecca saw the cutting board and the glittering silver blade. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. If only she could turn a fraction of an inch...?
Sabrina loosened her hold as she moved toward the knife. Rebecca pulled away the necessary inch, ignoring the stinging at her scalp, and reached for the kettle. In a flash of movement, she dumped it over her shoulder, spilling the hot water onto Sabrina's arm.
Sabrina screamed and let go of her hair. Rebecca fell back against the stove, her shoulder burning where the water soaked through her clothes. But she was free.
/> When Sabrina righted herself, Rebecca threw the pot at her, remaining water and all. She didn't take her eyes off the woman as she began moving toward the back door. If she could get outside, where Holbrook and Megan and Frank were, she would be safe.
Sabrina raised her head. Her hair lay in wet tangles over her shoulders, the black coloring staining her face and clothes. Her eyes were ice-cold with fury. She let out a banshee-like howl and lunged forward.
Rebecca grabbed the heaviest object she could find and swung it with all her might at Sabrina. The woman's eyes rolled back in her head, and she slumped to the floor in a heap of yellow taffeta. A spot of blood oozed from her temple and ran down her cheek.
Rebecca still clutched the large black skillet tightly. When the door behind her flew open, she pivoted and held her weapon at the ready. She sighed with relief when she saw that it was Caleb. The frying pan fell to the floor with a clang as she closed her eyes and slumped forward into his open, waiting arms.
"You really flattened her with an iron skillet?” Megan asked, her eyes wide with excitement.
"She really did,” Caleb answered. He grinned and kissed the top of Rebecca's head.
They all sat around the parlor, Holbrook and Megan covered with soot from their battle to save the barn. It had been well worth it, though, for only the door and one corner were scorched. The rest of the building was fine and could be cleaned and repaired with little effort.
Rebecca looked up at her husband, who sat balanced on the arm of the settee, and gave him a weak smile. She still couldn't believe all that had happened that evening. One minute she was being warned to take it easy, and the next she was fighting for her life against a madwoman. It was no wonder she'd swooned. At least Caleb had been there to keep her from falling flat on her face.
That was the most wonderful thing about becoming Rebecca Adams, she decided. There would always be someone there to catch her. The nameless little girl from the Scarlet Garter had finally found a home. Found a family. Found love enough to give and receive. And she reveled in the knowledge that her child—their child—would feel the warmth and wonder of that life from its very first day.
"I'm going to take Rebecca upstairs,” Caleb said, rising. “She must be exhausted."
"Oh, but I wanted to hear the story again.” Megan hopped up and down on her chair.
"You can hear it again tomorrow. Rebecca needs at least eighteen hours of sleep."
Still inwardly marveling at the many small miracles that had carried her from her cold Kansas City existence into the loving light of the Adams family, Rebecca gazed with deep fondness at Holbrook and Megan as she allowed Caleb to help her to her feet. “Good-night, everyone,” she said, “and thank you all."
"Good-night,” they chimed in.
Caleb put an arm around Rebecca and helped her up the stairs.
"I'm glad you came home when you did,” she said when they got to the bedroom.
"You had the situation pretty much under control by the time I got here,” he reminded her. “All the marshal had to do was haul Sabrina away.” He lifted her long, silky hair and draped it over one shoulder, then started loosening the hooks at the back of her dress.
She stood so still, Caleb thought she might have fallen asleep on her feet. But a low moan of pleasure escaped her when the pads of his fingers ran over her skin as he pushed the dress down her body to pool at her feet. He swept her up in his arms, and she snuggled against his chest, letting out another contented sigh.
Placing her on the bed, he stripped out of his own clothes before joining her, then drew the covers up over both of them. He pulled her against him so that they were cuddled together, her back to his chest. His arms rested beneath her breasts, over the roundness of her stomach.
He kissed and nuzzled her ear. “I love you, Rebecca,” he whispered.
"I love you, too,” she said, sounding a bit groggy already. “All of you. Every last infuriating Adams—and every Adams to come."
