Then, it would all be his.
Bullshit. Half would still be mine.
Not true. Here and now, marriage would make both ranches his.
Half of The Shilo Ranch belongs to Merril.
Not if he abandons his share.
Merril was set up too, so Kevin would get both ranches. What did Renata get?
Nichole froze, the hairbrush suspended in mid-stroke. Renata only stood to gain if Nichole was out of the picture—after the marriage.
They intend to lock me away after the marriage—or worse.
What did Jason get? He would lose everything. Besides, she knew Jason. He wouldn't let them do this to her unless there was a reason. She had to find out what that was, and she needed someone she could trust.
A knock at the door startled her, and she dropped the brush. “Yes?” Her voice broke. She cleared her throat and spoke louder. “Yes?”
“Dinner's ready, Nicki,” Jeanne called through the closed door. Moments later, her footsteps skip down the stairs.
Nichole pulled the first skirt and blouse she found out of the trunk, grabbed a new chemise from the drawer, and slipped into them. She moved the chair from beneath the door handle and went downstairs.
Lawna and Jeanne were setting the table when Nichole walked into the dining room. Both women stopped and stared at her with concern.
“Are you all right, Miss Nichole?” Lawna asked.
“You don't look so well,” Jeanne said. She and Lawna exchanged worried glances.
Nichole gestured vaguely with her hand. “I'm fine. I must have allergies.”
“You mean the hay fever, Miss Nichole?” Lawna supplied.
“That's it.” She pointed at Lawna. “I have hay fever.”
“Cookie has hay fever too.” Jeanne poured cool springhouse water into the glasses. “She swears eating honey helps her.”
“Thank you, Jeanne. I'll try that.”
Jeanne smiled as she and Lawna turned together and returned to the kitchen.
It was nice to see Jeanne and Lawna getting along so well. Nichole had forgotten about Timothy and Lawna. At least one thing appeared to be on a good track.
The door to Jason's office opened, and Jim stalked out, his face like a thundercloud. He pulled up short when he saw her standing near the table. He looked her over carefully, from the hem of her skirt up. His gaze lingered on her face and grew even darker than before. “Nicki.” He gave her a short nod and then continued out the front door, slamming it closed behind him.
Nichole turned to watch as he passed her. She’d never seen Jim other than stoic or slightly amused. His piercing angry gaze unsettled her. What had made him so mad?
“How are you feeling?”
Nichole's head swiveled from the front door to Jason. He looked annoyed as he stepped from his office to the table and pulled out Nichole's chair to seat her.
“What the hell, Jason?” Her voice rose as she prepared to vent her anger at his abandonment. She hadn't intended to jump down his throat, but the sight of him, so calm and slightly put out, pissed her off all over again.
Jason raised his finger and pointed at her nose. “Be silent. There has been enough fighting and screaming and arguing in this house today. I will brook no more.”
She rolled her eyes and battled tears. “Why are you doing this to me?” she whispered.
He indicated her chair. “Sit.”
She sighed and refused to meet his eyes as she lowered herself onto the chair and stared at the empty china plate, simmering in rage.
Jason took his seat in silence and served himself from the platter of sliced beef. He took another slice and gestured questioningly at Nichole's plate. Nichole nodded. Their pretense of normalcy was absurd. She refused to speak as he filled her plate.
When he finished placing the second slice of beef on her plate, he cleared his throat. “Let's just say I was under some ... pressure to act contrary to my feelings earlier today. However, that has been resolved.”
“Resolved?”
“Indeed. Yams?”
The front door opened, and Amy came in.
Jason rose and pulled out her chair across from Nichole.
“Thank you, Jason, but I need to wash up first.” Amy sailed past them and into the kitchen, but not before Nichole saw her tear-stained face and reddened eyes.
Jason waited by Amy's chair for her to return. Almost immediately, Amy was back, her face clean but her eyes still red and puffy. Jason seated her and returned to his seat.
“Beef?”
“Thank you,” Amy replied.
Jason served his wife, setting the plate before her and returning to his meal. The change in the dynamic between husband and wife was obvious.
Nichole picked up her fork just as Cookie stepped into the room with a large pot of honey and a dipper. She set it down by the biscuits and nodded her head at the family.
“The hay fever is takin' this family somethin' awful this year. Y'all be sure to have some honey on your biscuit. It will help.” She nodded her head at Nichole and Amy and returned to the kitchen.
They ate dinner in silence. Jason stared morosely into his plate, and Amy only picked at her dinner. Soon after the strawberries and shortcake were served, Amy excused herself to her room. Jason tossed his napkin onto his plate and returned to his office when Amy disappeared up the stairs.
Left to her own devices, Nichole wandered into the music room, careful to avoid the love seat. She moved around the baby grand piano and sat on the cushioned piano bench. She laid her hands on the keys. Only the tips of her fingers caressed the ivories.
At first, the tune was forced and awkward. Discordant notes and difficult tempos made a cacophony of her song. Eventually, the melody gained strength and rang true as she played it repeatedly until it felt right. The words to the song filled her head and she spoke them softly with the music. So many melodies and lyrics competed in her head that she stopped playing and sat with her eyes closed, listening to the playlist inside her head. She knew the words, the tunes, the artists. Her eyes flew open and searched the room.
Why do I know these things? How?
Anxiety crushed her chest, and her head began to pound. She lurched to her feet, blew out the lamp, and then made her way around to the stairs.
Jeanne and Lawna had already cleared the dinner dishes, and Jason was behind closed doors.
Nichole climbed the stairs, a few steps at a time, one hand on the railing and the other pressed to the aching pain in her brow while an oldies station played songs in her head.
She closed her door and slumped heavily against it. Weariness weighted on her, almost as though she’d been drugged again. Her body fought against her and hampered her every movement. She moved in a fog. Pain and music competed for her attention. At last, she found herself undressed and in her bed. She pulled the covers over her head and escaped into sleep.
Nichole woke late the next morning with a dull pounding at the base of her skull. Immediately, she realized the noise came from the bedroom door. She raised her head and looked dumbfounded at the chair braced beneath the handle.
“Nichole? Are you ill?” Amy called. The door shook again. “Open the door, please. It's getting late.”
Chapter 33
Nichole Harris
Nichole stared at the chair. Why would the—
Oh, yeah. Kevin.
Still half-asleep, she rolled out of bed and paused to let the dizziness pass. She gripped the chair and moved it away from the door.
“Are you all right?” Amy asked. She walked into the room and eyed the chair in Nichole's hands. “What's this?”
Suspicion colored everything and everyone. Nichole shrugged. “My future husband made unwanted advances last night. I thought it best to take precautions.”
“What?” Amy exclaimed. Her startled eyes opened wide. “What future husband?”
Nichole stared at Amy. “You don't know?”
“Know what?” Amy's brow furrowed, and she
closed the door behind her.
“About the doctor ... about Kevin.”
Amy shook her head. “Jason became angry when I questioned him about Dr. Clemens, and I know nothing about Kevin.”
“So, you don't know what’s happened?”
“Apparently not. I know Dr. Clemens sedated you—that his recommendations upset you, and rightfully so. I saw Kevin carry you to your room. Everyone from The Shilo departed, while Jason and I ... discussed Dr. Clemens's absurd ideas.”
Nichole's anger ignited at the mention of Kevin. She paced away from Amy. “Dr. Clemens intended to take me out of the house by force yesterday. When he grabbed me, I tried to fight him and begged Jason to help me.”
Amy sank slowly into the chair as Nichole continued her tirade.
“Jason turned his back. He walked away, Amy. He did nothing to stop them. Nothing!”
“I don't understand.” Amy shook her head. “None of this makes any sense.”
“When I woke up, Kevin was in my room.” She paused and looked at Amy, her fists clenched at her sides. “He told me he had saved me from Clemens and that unless I married him, the doctor would return and take me to his asylum. He said Jason wouldn't stop him.”
“This is unbelievable.” Amy's eyes were wide with sympathy and horror.
“Believe it.” Nichole wiped at angry tears.
“Why would they do this?” Amy's hands twisted in her lap. “Why would Jason allow it to happen?”
“I don't know. And to be honest, at this point, I don't care.” Nichole swiped at another tear. “I won't go into that asylum, and I will not marry Kevin Shilo.” She spat his name as though it burned her tongue to speak it. She bit the back of her hand to keep from crying.
Merril, where are you?
“No, of course not.” Amy sat back and stared at Nichole. “Those are no choices at all.”
Nichole cleared her throat and took a breath. “I gave this a lot of thought last night.” She paced across the room. “If I stay here, they'll eventually get their way—one way or the other.” She stopped and turned to Amy. Her lip quivered, but she fought the emotion back. “But I don’t know where else to go.” The tears won and tightened her voice. “I own this ranch, but I have no money and no resources.” She pressed her lips and gripped her sides with her arms. “I have nothing.”
“That's not entirely true.” Amy's shoulders sagged, and she looked away. “In fact, I was told I should consider returning to Denver,” her voice was a harsh whisper. She wiped her cheek before she raised her gaze to Nichole. “The house in Denver is yours. We could go together. I know attorneys in Denver and doctors. I have friends there. You wouldn't be at anyone's mercy. And you wouldn't be alone.”
Nichole leaned back against the dressing table, her knees weak with relief. She released a sigh and felt her heart begin to pound with determination. “When can we go?” she whispered.
Amy sniffed and wiped her face with the heel of her hand. “We should leave in the morning, before dawn. We'll blend in with the other ranchers heading home after the barbeque.” She nodded once and smiled at Nichole. “I'll talk with Jim. We'll need his help.”
“No one can know.” Panic fluttered in Nichole’s chest. “What if he tells Jason?”
“He won't. I'll explain the situation. We can trust him, I'm sure of it.”
Nichole ran her hand over her face. She pushed her curls away from her eyes and considered Amy. “How long will it take to get there?”
“Between eight and ten hours.”
“Ten hours?” Nichole murmured.
Was Denver that far?
“I think that's the best we can manage,” Amy explained. “I usually camp halfway and make it a two-day trip. Although, I think that would be unwise in this case. If we're careful with the animals, we can make it in one day.”
“How far is Denver?” Nichole asked.
“At least forty miles, though it seems much farther in the winter.”
“Wait ... what?” Nichole narrowed her eyes and rubbed at the pain behind her eyebrows. “Forty miles in ten hours? That's—”
“Remarkably quick, I know.” Amy finished Nichole's sentence. “But we don't want to be stopped. It won't be easy on the team. We'll need to use the buckboard.” Amy's finger tapped her chin. Her eyes focused on the floor as she verbalized their escape plan.
Nichole sank into the chair, both hands on her brow.
Maybe I am on the verge of hysterics. Amy's time and distance didn't make sense.
I can fly from Dallas to El Paso in less than two hours. Fly? She squeezed her eyes shut.
I can't fly—I have flown. Pain erupted across her skull.
“Jim will make sure the team is well-cared-for. Let's hope the rains haven't washed out the road. If that's the case, it will take two days.”
Amy's voice sounded distant, as though Nichole's ears needed to pop. She peeked at Amy from beneath her hands. Amy stood at the wardrobe.
Nichole's gaze darted around the room and paused at the oil lamp, the bedpan, the bowl and pitcher on her dresser. She searched for a switch near the door, and her gaze rose to the middle of the empty ceiling. There was no overhead light.
What's happening to me?
“You should wear this tonight.” Amy pulled a dress from the wardrobe. “It was always my favorite of yours.” She held up a deep burgundy Victorian dress with white lace accenting the sleeves, bodice and skirt inset. A matching double slip and bustle hung together with the dress.
Nichole looked at the dress, and the room began to spin. “Amy, I...” Tears streamed down her face, and her breath hitched. Panic paralyzed her. She struggled to inhale but couldn't, as though she'd been punched in the gut.
Amy looked up from the dress to Nichole's face. “Nicki, what?” She shoved the dress back into the wardrobe and knelt before Nichole. She brushed the hair from Nichole's face, and her gaze dropped to the front of her gaping nightgown. She pushed the neckline open and exposed the bruised and bitten skin. Amy's hand covered her mouth in horror as her gaze lifted to meet Nichole's. “Nicki is ... is this ... did Kevin do this?”
Nichole pulled the nightgown closed and doubled over. A ragged breath filled her lungs. Amy's warm arms wrapped around her. She rested her head on Amy's shoulder and cried.
Amy straightened Nichole's long curls and rubbed her back. “Oh, my dear, I didn't know. I thought Kevin left with that doctor and Renata. Shh. It will be all right. I promise you. We'll leave here, and you'll be safe. He won't touch you again.”
Nichole held on to Amy until the room stopped spinning. There was darkness everywhere her thoughts turned.
There's something wrong with my mind.
Even that knowledge was somehow less painful than Merril's abandonment.
Where are you? I need you.
Jason's betrayal and Kevin's despicable scheme made the third point in her trinity of horror. Her ears popped, and Amy's voice was suddenly clear.
“You need to be strong tonight.” Amy pushed Nichole away and held her at arm's-length. They looked into each other's tear-filled eyes. “The most important thing will be to act natural. No one can suspect what we plan. You can't let them know they don't have you cornered. They are counting on that. We want them to believe you have no way out.”
Nichole nodded and whispered, “You're right. One thing at a time.”
Amy rose to her feet, still holding Nichole's hand. “Pack what you want to bring in your trunk when you’re alone. You don't want Jeanne or Lawna to ask awkward questions.”
Amy released Nichole's hand and returned to the wardrobe for the burgundy gown and laid it on the bed. “Jeanne will be up to help you dress and fix your hair soon.” Amy paused at the door and looked back at Nichole. “Throw on a robe and get a bite to eat in the kitchen. You'll feel better for it. You need to eat something before tonight.” She smiled at Nichole, and although her smile was sad, it gave encouragement as well. “We can do this. We only have to get through tonight
.”
Chapter 34
Jason Harris
Jason looked over the guests who socialized across the yard. Ranchers and wranglers had begun to arrive around noon, and now the barbeque was in full swing. Jason lingered near the ranch road, not far from the house, to greet late arrivals.
Cookie and Lloyd's barbeque pit had been uncovered a few hours ago with grand ceremony. Succulent pork and beef trays graced the dining tables, both inside and out. Lloyd had placed the outside table angled from the back corner of the house. The table separated the guest area in the side yard from the food preparation area behind the kitchen. Cookie and Lawna maintained a constant supply of meat, sauces, biscuits, yams, and mint tea to both tables.
The rails from the corral had been taken down the day before and stacked behind the barn. Every other corral post was decorated with ribbons that fluttered merrily in the early evening breeze.
The dance platform Tom and Timothy had built stood in the center of the circle of corral posts. It proved so popular that the wranglers began to display their hoedown skills long before the musicians commenced to play. Even after the music started, the lack of female partners didn't discourage their good time. The men didn't hesitate to partner up and do-si-do with each other.
The rhythmic chant of the square-dance caller sounded like the steady flow of an auctioneer. Between called sets, cowboys would take to the stage and perform solo dance routines that consisted of fast footwork along with boot and knee-slapping.
Jason cheered with the crowd as the latest performer bowed and stepped down to his back-patting buddies. The group of young men headed toward the beer wagon. There were two fiddle players and a banjo player seated near the dance platform. The music in the yard never seemed to stop.
Jason smiled and greeted Mickey Carpenter, a ranch owner who grazed his herd south of Fort Morgan. “I'm glad you made it. No trouble on the way, I hope.”
Mickey shook Jason's hand. “No trouble at all. Glad to be here.” He tipped his hat to the back of his head. “I've got several men with me. We planned to stay the night. Where do you want us to set up camp?”
Passage (Soul of the Witch Book 1) Page 26
