by Diana Bold
Her blood ran cold as she scooted across the cave floor. She crawled down the tunnel and stuck her head cautiously outside to see what was going on. As she’d feared, no less than three armed men were making their way toward the cave, no doubt following the trail she and Zach had forged during their many trips back to the wreck site.
She cast a quick glance around the rest of the canyon, praying Zach would stay hidden. Her heart broke when she realized she wouldn’t have the opportunity to say goodbye to him. But perhaps fortune was smiling on her after all, because if he wasn’t here, he couldn’t stop her from protecting him.
Sighing, she pushed to her feet and waved, trying to draw the men’s attention. “I’m here,” she called. “Oh, thank God! I thought no one was ever going to come!”
The man in the lead waved his hat in the air. “We see you, ma’am. Stay right there. We’re coming.”
Bethany waved back then ducked back in the cave, panic sweeping through her as she thought of all she had to accomplish in the ten minutes or so before the men reached her. Somehow, she had to drag enough of her things back to the first cave to make them believe she’d managed to survive all this time here by herself.
She also had to write a quick note and leave some money for Zach, telling him what had happened and to beg him to find her in Texas as soon as he could. Brushing away a few annoying tears, she set to work, preparing to give the best performance of her life.
* * * * *
Zach watched from beneath a small stand of piñon trees as the small band of rescuers loaded Bethany on the back of a horse and took her away from him. It had been one of the worst hours of his life—seeing them arrive, knowing he couldn’t return to say goodbye to Bethany without being seen.
He’d crouched in his hiding place like the worst sort of coward, vacillating between letting them capture him and knowing if he did nothing, if he stayed hidden, Bethany would put her plan into motion, ensuring his freedom. Perhaps he’d known all along this would happen—that when the time came, he’d be too weak to keep her from saving his worthless hide.
Long after they’d disappeared from his view, Zach remained where he was, shivering and starving, feeling as though his world had come to an end. How could he bear a life without Bethany in it? But how could he do as she wanted and live off her charity, knowing there was always a chance someone might recognize him, which would put her in danger?
As dusk fell in a brilliant array of red and gold, he pushed himself to his feet, gasping as his cramped muscles came back to life. He stumbled back to the cave, wondering if his problem would be solved for him. He had a gun and the clothes on his back. Several hundred miles lay between him and Bethany’s sister’s house in Texas. He didn’t know if he could make it, even if he tried.
The first cave was empty, but Bethany had put a few more logs on the empty fire circle they’d first used, obviously trying to convince her rescuers she’d spent all her time here, drawing their attention away from the second cave.
Using a makeshift torch out of one of the logs, he made his way to the second cave, glad to see she’d left him most of the blankets and some of her warm winter clothes. Using his torch, he lit the remaining wood in the fire circle. Shivering, he stripped off his wet, freezing clothes and stretched them out on one of the warm rocks near the pool, but stopped when he saw a letter and a small pouch sitting near the edge.
Bending down, he discovered the pouch held a small fortune in gold coins, more than enough to give him a fresh start wherever he might choose to go. Unaccountably annoyed by the gift, he grabbed the letter and stepped into the steaming pool, holding it up to the flickering firelight so he could read Bethany’s parting words.
Dear Zach,
I don’t have much time, not nearly enough to say everything I wish, but I think you know how much I love you, how much I want to build a life with you. I know you’ll be angry with me for proceeding with my plan, but I’m going to do it anyway. Forgive yourself and trust in me. You don’t have to run anymore. My sister’s address is written at the bottom of this page. Please come and find me. But if you feel that you cannot, or if you don’t care as much for me as you’ve pretended, then please take the money I’ve left for you and go somewhere safe. All I want is your happiness.
Love,
Bethany
Blinking back a rush of impotent tears, Zach tossed the letter far away from the water so it wouldn’t get wet, then submerged himself beneath the steaming depths, holding his breath until his lungs threatened to burst. By the time he broke the surface, he’d managed to gain some semblance of control over his rioting emotions.
He had no idea what he’d done to deserve such selfless generosity on his angel’s part, but the time had come to make some very difficult decisions. Did he spend the rest of his life trying to show her how much he loved her, trying to become worthy of her faith in him, or did he deprive himself of her love in a selfless gesture of his own?
Chapter Ten
March 1, 1872 – San Antonio, Texas
“Look at this gown, Beth. Isn’t it the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen?” Caroline gave Bethany a coaxing smile as she took her hand and led her toward the dressmaker’s shop. “It would look perfect on you. And it’s been more than a year since David’s death. Far past time for you to shed your mourning clothes.”
Bethany dug in her heels, resisting her sister’s forced good cheer. “I don’t want a new dress,” she protested. “Wherever would I wear it?”
“You could come to one of the dances at the fort,” Caroline said, her patience obviously wearing thin. “It wouldn’t hurt you to meet some new people. There are several handsome, lonely gentlemen in the officers’ ranks.”
With a sigh, Bethany brushed a loose tendril of hair out of her eyes and met her sister’s gaze. “If you’re tired of having me underfoot, I can rent a room somewhere here in town. You needn’t try to marry me off.”
“I don’t want to get rid of you,” Caroline cried. “I love having you around. I simply can’t bear to see you so morose. I want you to be happy. I want to see you fall in love with someone who is strong and healthy, someone who will love you for something more than your nursing skills.”
At her sister’s words, thoughts of Zach overwhelmed Bethany. She shoved her hand in her pocket, closing her fingers around the angel he’d carved. It had become her talisman, the only thing she had to prove those magical days in the cave had happened. She’d come so close to telling her sister about the fleeting love she’d found in the aftermath of her wreck, but each time she’d managed to bite her tongue. No matter how much she wanted to talk to someone about what had happened, she couldn’t risk jeopardizing his freedom when he came to find her.
But as the days dragged by with no word from him, she feared she held her tongue in vain. He’d had plenty of time to come to her. Had something happened to him? Or had he decided he didn’t want a future that included her?
Shoving such dangerous thoughts aside, she managed to give her sister a tremulous smile. “Thank you, Caro. I know you mean well, but I’m just not ready. I don’t know if I ever will be.”
Caroline shook her head with a sigh of exasperation. “Well, at least accompany me inside. Charlie said I could have something new, and I intend to take advantage of his sudden generosity.”
Though Caroline and her Charlie struggled to make it on his meager officer’s pay, they seemed happy. Bethany was glad to see her sister had found so much more in her marriage than Bethany had found in her own, but she was a bit jealous, too. Theirs was the kind of relationship she’d shared with Zach, and watching them together made her miss him even more.
She pressed the hand not holding her angel to her stomach. In truth, there was another reason why she’d avoided the dressmaker’s. The small swelling of Zach’s child was barely perceptible, but soon she’d be unable to hide it. Zach had been right all those months ago—her inability to conceive had been David’s fault, not her own.
Widowed more than a year, her pregnancy would be hard to explain. She had no desire to bring such a scandal down upon her respectable sister, so she feared she’d soon be forced to do what she’d begged Zach to do—change her identity and move somewhere new. But still she remained, hoping Zach would come for her.
She didn’t want to raise his child alone.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” a deep voice murmured from behind her. “Might I have a moment of your time?”
She froze, and the blood drained from her face, leaving her a bit lightheaded. She’d heard that voice before, whispering her name in the dark with sweet passion. She glanced over at Caroline, afraid to turn around, afraid she was imagining it all. Caroline’s eyes widened as she stared at a spot behind Bethany, convincing her someone stood there.
“Mrs. Sinclair?” Zach asked again. “Perhaps you don’t remember me. My name is Jack Pierce. I was a friend of your husband’s, back in Colorado.”
Turning, she found herself gazing into her lover’s vivid blue eyes. He looked wonderful. His long, unkempt hair had been trimmed above the collar of his proper gray suit. He looked a perfect gentleman, no longer the outlaw she’d come to know so well.
“Jack Pierce?” she whispered, loving the way his new identity rhymed with his real name. “Of course, I remember you.”
He gave her a slow smile filled with hope. “I’m glad you remember me. I feared I’d let too much time pass.”
She shook her head as ecstatic tears stung her eyes. She glanced at her sister, who looked on with great interest. “Would you mind giving Mr. Pierce and me a few moments alone? We have a lot of catching up to do.”
Caroline smiled, obviously understanding all Bethany wasn’t saying. “Of course not. I’ll be in the dressmaker’s. Take as long as you want.”
The moment Caroline turned away, Zach grabbed Bethany’s hand and pulled her through the crowded street. He ducked inside a narrow gap between two buildings, pulling her deep in the shadows, so they were afforded some privacy.
“Jack,” Bethany cried, cupping his beloved face and staring into his eyes. “My beautiful, beautiful Jack.”
“Ah, Bethany,” he whispered, lifting her in his arms and trapping her between the rough wooden wall and the solid strength of his body. “God, darlin’. I’ve missed you so much.”
“I thought you weren’t going to come,” she sobbed, tangling her fingers in the silky strands of his dark hair. “I’d almost given up hope.”
“I tried to stay away,” he assured her. “I tried to be strong. I tried to walk away. But in the end, I couldn’t bear the thought of living without you.”
“I didn’t want you to be strong.” She stood on her tiptoes and covered his mouth with hers, kissing him with months of pent-up longing.
After an indeterminable time, he broke the kiss and stared down at her with wonder in his beautiful blue eyes. “I love you, darlin’. I have since the first moment I saw you.”
“I love you, too,” she whispered, tears choking her voice. She’d waited a lifetime to hear those words from this man. Zach or Jack, she didn’t care. She loved him either way.
With a soft huff of laughter, he leaned forward and gave her another lingering kiss. “God, darlin’. You don’t know how bad I’ve needed to hear that.”
Heat tinged her face as she returned his kiss with her whole heart. “Oh, I think I know. I’ve needed it, too. I’ve missed you so much. I felt like I was half dead inside without you in my arms.”
He brushed her cheek with his knuckles, and gave her a sad smile. “I’m sorry I took so long. I guess I knew all along I couldn’t stay away. I just wanted to make sure the law was off my tail, that they really believed your story. It took seeing my own grave to convince me we could make this work.”
“I’m glad you didn’t wait any longer,” she whispered. Unable to keep her secret for even one more second, she took his hand and pressed it to her stomach, meeting his inquiring gaze as her tears fell.
“You were right. It wasn’t my fault I couldn’t have a child with David.”
“A baby? Are you telling me you’re pregnant?” His eyes filled with answering tears, erasing any doubt that he might not want this.
She nodded. “You’ve given me everything I ever wanted, Zach. Now it’s time for me to give you a child.”
“Jack,” he corrected with a silly smile. Holding her gaze, he sank to one knee and stared up at her with unmistakable love shining in his eyes. “Marry me, Beth. Make me the happiest man in the world.”
“Of course.” She flung herself into his arms. “Of course, I’ll marry you. “
He held her tight, his tears mixing with her own. “I love you, my little snow angel. I love you so much.”
The End
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Chapter One – Once A Pirate
London—1810
“You’ve got a visitor, Montgomery.”
Deep in the bowels of Newgate Prison, Talon Montgomery looked up from the corner of his dank, windowless cell. “A visitor?” His words were little more than a hoarse rasp. He hadn’t spoken in months, not since he’d realized nothing he said would entice the guards to release him.
He shielded his eyes from the glare of the guard’s lantern with a grimy hand, blinking and uncertain. A visitor? He’d been trapped down here for what seemed an eternity, accused of treason and branded a pirate. They claimed he’d been spying for the Americans, looting English ships for military secrets and wealth.
He accepted the charge of piracy, even though he was technically a privateer, but he hotly denied the treason. He was an American, by choice, if not by birth. Unfortunately, his letter of marque from the American government had been ignored, and he’d been thrown in this cell to rot. He’d been sentenced to death, and he couldn’t imagine why they were dragging it out.
The hulking guard withdrew a key and unlocked his cell for the first time since his mockery of a trial. The grinding rasp of the key brought long dead reflexes to life.
Was he hallucinating? He had to be, because freedom lay just beyond that open door. All he had to do was get rid of the guard…
“You wouldn’t make it two feet,” the man warned, hauling Talon off the floor with one beefy arm.
Talon fought a wave of nausea and humiliation. The good health he’d taken for granted all his life had deserted him. He battled to find the strength to remain standing instead of wilting at the man’s feet in an ignoble heap.
The guard grinned. “Not so high and mighty now, are we, Lord Pirate?”
Talon shook off the man’s hands, bracing his own against the iron bars for support. “Where are you taking me?”
“There’s a fancy gentleman waitin’ to have a word with you in the warden’s office.” Still chuckling, the guard shoved Talon toward his cell door. “I don’t imagine the bloke wants to be kept twiddlin’ his thumbs by the likes o’ you.”
Talon let the guard prod him down the narrow corridor, unable to accept the fact that he had a visitor. Who could it be? His valiant crew had been dead these many months, and he had no one else.
He wondered if this was a ruse, some strange new form of torture to make him confess. If so, perhaps this time they’d succeed. He could bear anything but false hope.
Halfway to the warden’s office, the cobwebs cleared and he realized there was someone in his life with the power to arrange such a visit. Sudden fury sparked within him, burning away months of apathy and despair.
Sutcliffe! Had he come to gloat? To see Talon broken and humbled once and for all? His anger gave him the strength to climb the endless flight of stairs.
At last the guard shoved him into a warm, brightly lit room. “Here he is, sir. Let us know when you’re
done with him.”
Talon stood in the doorway, blinking against the light, tension coursing through him as he struggled to get a clear look at the two men who waited inside. One was a giant of a man, dressed in silver and blue livery that bore the Sutcliffe crest. Hired muscle, Talon thought in disgust, dismissing him.
The other man stood in front of the crackling fire, warming his gloved hands. He didn’t turn around when Talon entered the room, which wasn’t surprising.
James Sinclair, the Sixth Earl of Sutcliffe, had first turned his back on his bastard son twenty‐nine years ago, the day he’d discovered Talon’s mother carried him in her womb.
Talon slumped against the wall, glaring. He’d swallowed his pride and sent his father an impassioned plea for help after his arrest, only to be completely ignored. If there’d been anything left in him of the boy who’d once yearned for his father’s love, Sutcliffe had killed it then.
“Damn you,” Talon muttered. “Damn you to hell.”
Sutcliffe laughed and turned to look at the son he’d never wanted.
Talon drew in a sharp breath, startled. He hadn’t been face to face with the man who’d sired him since he was a lad of twelve. He’d forgotten how much he resembled the man.
They shared the same unusual coloring — inky black hair and icy blue eyes. Sutcliffe’s harsh, uncompromising features were more deeply lined and his ebony hair had turned gray at the temples, but there was no denying they were father and son.
The earl assessed him with a critical gaze. “I’m glad to see five months in prison hasn’t broken your spirit.”
Five months. Five months since he’d taken a breath of air that wasn’t fouled by the odors of death and decay. Five months since he’d felt the sun and wind on his skin or eaten a decent meal.