“You’re lying,” Papa snarls.
I climb to my feet, prepared to run to him, when the marshal grabs hold of my arm and yanks me beside him.
“Don’t you touch my daughter, you murdering son of a bitch. I’ll tell everyone what you’ve done. I’ll kill you myself—”
I vaguely hear Scarlet crying from the porch as I try to break free of the marshal’s hold, but his grip tightens.
“Watch what you say, Mr. Mason . . . slanderous accusations have consequences.”
“Let me go to her—she was my wife,” Papa whimpers between gasps.
The deputy that disappeared behind the house returns, a blanket in his hand as he walks toward us, toward my mother. “She wouldn’t have you, and you—”
“You’re hysterical, Mr. Mason,” the marshal says warningly, and I cry out as his fingers press into my arm more painfully. “Calm yourself before you make yourself sick or cause an even bigger scene.”
I notice Jane, the housemaid, and the ranch hand peering around the edge of the house, mouths agape and uncertain what to do. Jane pales when her eyes land on me. I point to Scarlet, but the instant the deputy uncovers my mother completely and lifts her body into his arms, I’m unable to look away. Her head hangs limply over the crook of his elbow, her dangling arm bouncing with each hurried step.
“I’ll . . . tell . . . everyone,” Papa says unevenly as the two men drag him up to his knees.
The marshal tosses the blanket off another body with his free hand—a body I didn’t notice before—exposing a sickly-looking man in leathers with impossibly dark hair. I’m so close I can smell him; the foul aroma is stronger, and I scream, desperate to get away.
“Your wife was attacked by drifters!” the marshal says, growing angrier. He shoves me closer to the dead man, my insides roiling as I take in his green, sunken face. “See? She made her choice and yes, it killed her. Perhaps you should be blaming yourself—your stubbornness, what you’ve put me through!”
I try to pull away from the marshal’s hold, but he shoves me closer to the body. I grip the hot metal bars of the cage, afraid he’s going to shove me inside. “This, little Josephine, this is what I protect you from. This is your future without me. Your mother didn’t understand any of that.” When I peer up at him, eyes bleary and beseeching—pleading with him to let me go—his gaze shifts back to the servants, at Deputy Ashford forcing them and my sister back into the house.
My eyes rest on my mother’s discarded body on the porch, covered with the blanket.
“You’re a liar,” I seethe. “And a monster . . .” I tear my arm from his grasp with all my might, and as I’m about to run away, the marshal’s other hand grips my throat.
“Monster?” He laughs, a throaty, vicious noise, and I can hear Papa shouting, begging the marshal with renewed desperation. “You want to see a monster?” The marshal’s hold tightens around my windpipe and squeezes the air from my lungs. I can’t breathe. “You’ll calm yourself, Charles,” the marshal demands.
I hit desperately at the marshal’s strong hand and try to see Papa—to call for him—but my vision blurs and my heartbeat pounds, loud and overwhelming. Everything begins to fade to black as I pull and pry at his fingers until I can’t feel my own anymore. I can’t think. I can barely see . . .
“Okay—okay! Please, don’t—”
“You’ve nearly cost me everything, Mr. Mason, and I can’t have that.”
The last thing I remember is being lifted up into the marshal’s arms, the faint tang of whiskey touching my nose before everything goes completely black.
* * *
Did you enjoy this excerpt from Dust and Shadow? It’s the first book in my post-apocalyptic, Victorian adventure series. You can explore the Forgotten Lands here.
About The Author
Lindsey Pogue has always been a sucker for a good love story. Having had a tumultuous childhood, she often lost herself in her writing, finally completing her first new adult manuscript in high school. Lindsey has been writing tales of love and friendship, history and adventure ever since. When she’s not chatting with readers, plotting her next storyline, or dreaming up new, brooding characters, she’s generally wrapped in blankets watching her favorite action flicks with her own leading man. Lindsey and her husband live in Northern California with their rescue cat, Beast.
www.lindseypogue.com
Saratoga Falls: The Complete Love Story Series Page 103