The image of the last time he’d seen his first love flashed in his mind. Her broken and bloodied body tangled at his feet.
His heart clenched, and he sucked in a deep breath, trying to breathe through the pain that always struck him at Rachel’s memory. The thought of anything happening to Lucy was unbearable. He’d sacrifice everything to keep her safe. Which meant, for the moment, that he needed to stay away from her. He didn’t like the plan that was brewing between his partners, and until he found a way to get out from under his boss’s thumb, Lucy’s association with him put her in danger.
Finn was determined to find a way. A way to get free. And then he and Lucy could be together.
If he couldn’t… Finn swallowed, the thought of leaving and never seeing Lucy’s smiling face or looking into her deep brown eyes again striking him like a knife to the heart. There was no help for it though. If he couldn’t escape the servitude he was under, he’d have to disappear. There was no other way to ensure Lucy’s safety. His boss wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her in order to get what he wanted from Finn. And Finn would die before he’d let that happen.
Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that. Because leaving her would be a fate worse than death.
Chapter Two
Seven years later
Lucy dipped her needle into her patient’s hand one more time, slowly drawing the thread through until the last bit of the wound had closed. She deftly tied the thread off and snipped it with her little scissors. The man sitting before her let out a breath.
“All done,” Lucy said, patting his hand. “Let me just wrap this up, and then you can be on your way.”
“Thank you, miss. That didn’t hardly hurt at all.”
“I told you it wouldn’t be as bad as you feared,” she said with a wink. “I’m even better at stitching than my sister. But don’t you tell her I said so.”
“I heard that,” Brynne said, depositing a fresh stack of bandages on the bedside table.
The man chuckled and looked back and forth between the sisters. “Doc Oliver is sure lucky having the two of you to help him out. Why, it’s almost worth getting hurt just to be able to visit with the both of you.”
Lucy finished bandaging his palm and gave his other hand a squeeze. “Mr. Eddings, you are welcome to visit any time you’d like, though we’d much prefer a visit when you aren’t sporting a gaping wound.” She smiled, helping the sweet old man to his feet. “Now, you be careful, you hear. I think you’ve had your limit of injuries for the month.”
Mr. Eddings wheezed out a laugh and went to settle his account with Mrs. Birch, the clinic’s formidable housekeeper.
Brynne stayed to help Lucy tidy up the exam area, and Lucy braced herself for the lecture she knew was coming.
“Richard ran into David Burrows this morning.”
“Did he?” Lucy said, feigning ignorance. Brynne and her husband Richard had been arranging little meetings and outings with single men for years now, but lately their matchmaking efforts had risen to heights that would terrify a mountain goat. They just didn’t seem to grasp that Lucy had no interest in marrying. Anyone. Ever.
“Oh, don’t you go playing the innocent with me, Lucy Richardson. You know very well you left that boy twiddling his thumbs all night waiting for you!”
“I most certainly did not! I showed up. I just left a little early, that’s all.”
Brynne snorted. “You pretended to have a headache and left five minutes after arriving. You didn’t even give poor David a chance. He’s a perfectly nice young man. Handsome, from a good family. I swear, you’d find fault with a saint.”
Lucy sighed. “There wasn’t anything wrong with him. He seemed perfectly nice. He’s just not…”
Brynne’s eyes narrowed, and Lucy swallowed the name she’d almost let slip out. The name she’d promised herself over and over she’d never say again. He just wasn’t…Finn.
Brynne’s face softened as she gazed at her sister. She put down the linens she’d been folding and gathered Lucy in her arms, giving her a quick hug. Then she pulled back and looked Lucy in the eyes, cupping Lucy’s face in her hands. “You have to let him go, Lucy. It’s been seven years. He’s never coming back.”
Lucy swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. “I know. I’m trying.” She stepped back, out of Brynne’s embrace. “It’s just that…”
Brynne sat down on the cot and patted the spot beside her. Lucy sat reluctantly. She really didn’t want to have this conversation again.
“Lucy, believe me, I know what you are going through. After Jake died, I didn’t think I’d ever fall in love again. I compared every man I met to Jake, and none of them ever came close to measuring up. But then I met Richard.”
Brynne glanced around the clinic until she spotted her husband, deep in conversation with one of his patients on the far side of the clinic. “Even then, I almost let the memory of Jake ruin my chance for happiness.”
Lucy opened her mouth to speak but Brynne continued on.
“I know you loved Finn,” she said, her mouth hardening a bit as it always did when Finn was mentioned. She said she’d forgiven him for his role in her daughter’s kidnapping all those years ago. But no matter what she said, Lucy knew she’d never forget it. Even if she understood his motives and no longer blamed him for what had happened.
“But,” she pressed on, “you were so young. You didn’t have a chance to have a real relationship with him and you are letting the memory of your first romance, such as it was, ruin your future.”
Lucy stiffened, offended at the implication that what she felt for Finn was somehow lessened by the brevity of their relationship. “That is hardly fair, Brynne, especially coming from you. You married Jake when you’d hardly known each other and you were married a scant month before he died. How long did you pine for him?”
Brynne’s eyes narrowed. “That’s different and you know it.”
“How? How is it different? Because we didn’t have the time to get married? Neither did you, if you want to point at specifics. You didn’t even wait long enough for a proper wedding. You had Finn marry you, for crying out loud. It wasn’t even legal. So don’t dismiss how I feel, felt, for Finn because you are the last person who has the right to do so. I experienced more heart-pounding, soul-altering passion during my short time with Finn than I ever have with any of the men I’ve met since and frankly, I don’t think it’s possible to feel that again. We might not have had long together, but we loved a lifetime’s worth. So don’t you dare belittle it.”
Brynne sat back. But after a moment she nodded and took Lucy’s hand. “You’re right. I was dismissing how you feel and, I, of all people, should know that the amount of time someone spends with a loved one cannot dictate the intensity of the love. But I can’t bear to see you so unhappy. I don’t doubt that you loved him, but it was a very long time ago, Lucy. Even I moved on, eventually. I’ll always love Jake, but I’ve found happiness with Richard. There’s so much love and passion and fulfillment that you haven’t experienced yet. That’s all I want for you.”
Lucy looked down, not wanting to meet her sister’s gaze. Brynne didn’t know everything she and Finn had shared. She didn’t know of the stolen kisses in hidden corners, all the moments spent whispering, planning, dreaming. Or of the night that Lucy had crept into Finn’s room, into his bed, and had offered herself to him.
Lucy turned her head to hide the blush that still threatened to rise, all these years later, at the memory of that night. Brynne was wrong if she thought Lucy had never experienced passion. Finn had refused to take her innocence. He’d insisted that they wait until they were properly wed. But they’d done other things. He’d spent the night showing her how he loved her in more ways than she could have ever imagined. They’d pledged themselves to each other.
And then…everything had gone to hell. And he’d been forced to run. She’d told him to run, told him to save himself. But she never dreamed that he wouldn’t return for her.
&
nbsp; “He is gone,” Brynne said gently. “He left you standing there in that field. If he was going to come back for you, he’d have done so by now. And with the war…well, you can’t be sure that he—”
“No,” said Lucy, raising her hand for Brynne to stop. “Don’t say it.”
Lucy knew the chances were very good that Finn was dead. So many men had lost their lives during the war. So many would never be coming home. But Lucy refused to believe that Finn was one of them. She’d poured over the casualty sheets that had come in. His name had never been listed. But then, she had no idea where he’d been. Or even what side he’d been fighting for. For all she knew, he might have been fighting for the South. Or he might have gone to Europe to escape the conflict. Or perhaps he’d gone back to California and made amends with the Mohave tribe who’d raised him.
Brynne was right. Dead or alive, Finn was never coming back. He’d gone back on all his promises, chosen to leave her, and he’d made damn sure she’d never find him. So why couldn’t she let him go? Find another man who could make her happy, who she could share her life with, have children with, grow old with?
She’d tried. She really had. But no one ever measured up. And she’d rather grow old alone, the spinster aunt to her sisters’ children, than live in a joyless marriage just for the sake of being married.
Brynne watched Lucy for a moment and then gave her a quick one-armed hug. “All right, I’ll let it drop for now.”
Lucy rose gratefully and went about her work, hoping her sister had forgotten…
“Wait a minute.”
No such luck.
“If you left David minutes after arriving at the theater, where were you all night? You didn’t come home until well after midnight.”
“I…went for a ride in the park.”
Brynne’s gaze darted around, and she leaned in closer so only Lucy would hear her hiss, “Lucy! You didn’t.”
Lucy put on her most innocent expression. With the war a year behind them, life was returning to normal, but there were still those who needed help. Those the sisters could assist in secret, leaving small gifts of goods or money when no one was looking. Brynne didn’t mind Lucy riding off on those missions. She even helped as often as she could. But during the war, when times were hard and many were suffering, Lucy had found occasion to resurrect her old bandit persona in order to mete out a different sort of help. Brynne did not approve of Lucy’s vigilante-style of justice. Lucy was always careful, but she was never one to turn away from a person in need. And if that meant trussing up a few bad characters before they could get away with their crimes, then Lucy didn’t see the harm in it.
Brynne, however, disagreed. But Brynne had done more than that in her day, so she could hardly protest too much, and Lucy heartily needed something to bring a little excitement into her life. She was happy working in her brother-in-law’s clinic and helping to look after her nieces and nephews. But a girl had to do something to get her blood pumping every now and then.
“Lucy!” Brynne hissed again.
“I was careful. Don’t worry.”
Before Brynne could really get into her browbeating, Mrs. Birch escorted another patient into the exam area. Lucy took the opportunity to escape her sister and rushed to help the man to a cot.
“This isn’t over,” Brynne whispered to her as Lucy got the man settled. “We’ll discuss it at home.”
Lucy smiled over her shoulder at Brynne, ignoring her sister’s glare, and turned her attention to the man before her.
“Hi, there,” she said, smiling. “What can we do for you today?”
“Well, ma’am, I fell crossing the road yesterday. Landed on my arm hard. It always acts up a bit now and then, since the war.”
Lucy nodded her head sympathetically as she rolled up his sleeve, exposing a tangled mass of scars running up the length of his arm.
“You were lucky you were able to keep the arm,” she said, awe in her voice.
“Yes, ma’am, that’s the right honest truth. Thought for sure the doctor was going to amputate a few times, but we hung in there.” He patted his arm with a laugh. “Still aches like the dickens sometimes, especially when it’s cold or there’s a storm coming. And it seems to be a bit weaker than the other one. Can’t grasp things near as well, that sort of thing.”
Lucy nodded and continued her examination while he spoke. She’d definitely have Richard come look at it, though she was pretty sure she knew the problem. Still, she was only a nurse, not a doctor, and not even a properly trained one at that. When the war hit, Richard had expanded his clinic, taking in as many wounded as he could. Brynne and Lucy had gotten a crash course in nursing, though Brynne had already been helping in the clinic. By the time the war ended, they were both fair nurses.
Lucy helped full time most days, though Brynne didn’t spend as much time in the clinic as she used to. Coraline was almost in her teens and becoming quite a handful, and her younger brother and sister were keeping Brynne very busy. With the war over and the demands on Brynne’s attention lessened, she was spending as much time as she could with her children.
“Well, Mr.…”
“Watley.”
“Mr. Watley, I’m fairly certain you’ve sprained your arm. I’ll have the doctor come take a look to be certain. But as far as I can tell, you haven’t broken it.”
“Well, that’s a blessing, miss.”
Lucy smiled kindly at him and looked up to catch Richard’s eye. He nodded and held up a finger, indicating he’d be a minute.
Lucy settled into the chair by the cot. “Where were you when you were injured?”
“You’ll have to be more specific, miss,” Mr. Watley said with a laugh.
“Your arm.” Lucy laughed along with him. It felt good to laugh again. And she was glad Mr. Watley could have a good sense of humor about it. A rare gift under the current circumstances, for certain.
“Ah, my poor arm. Well that one happened in the Battle of Cedar Creek. Cannon blast hit the wagon I was hiding behind. Blew it to bits. Most of which ended up in my arm.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. How awful.”
“Not at all, miss,” he said with a huge grin. “This arm,” he patted it fondly, “saved my poor face from taking the full brunt. Only one little sliver caught me, just here.” He turned his head to show her a thin, jagged scar running up his jaw line to his ear. “Yes, ma’am, I’ve got a good arm here, that’s for certain.”
Lucy smiled, amused at the man’s fondness for his arm. He spoke of it as if it were a beloved pet. And she applauded his ability to find a way to be happy over his troubles.
“Well, we’ll have to make sure we take good care of that arm then. You were lucky indeed to have it with you that day.”
“Oh yes, ma’am, that’s for certain. Even more lucky that I had Fish with me.”
“Fish?” Lucy said, almost afraid to ask. “You had a lucky fish with you?”
“Ha!” Mr. Watley chortled so hard his face turned bright red. “Ah, bless you, miss. Not a real fish. A man.”
“A man named Fish?”
Mr. Watley was still chuckling. “Well, that’s what we all called him. A right good soldier he was. Fearless. Always running off on crazy missions. Like he had a death wish or something. Only nothing ever touched him. Oh, he was wounded a time or two. I don’t think a man alive escaped without some sort of damage or another. But nothing ever bad enough to slow him down. Not Fish. Never seen a man like him. Saved my life more than once. And my ugly mug a time or two as well.”
Lucy smiled and patted Mr. Watley’s hand. “You were lucky indeed to have him.”
Richard came over and introduced himself, quickly getting to work wrapping the arm that was, as Lucy had suspected, sprained.
Lucy kept up her conversation with Mr. Watley to help distract him from any discomfort he might be feeling.
“Why did you call your friend Fish, Mr. Watley?”
“Oh, well, because that’s what he looked like.”
Lucy grinned. “He looked like a fish? How so?”
“Oh, you’d never seen a man like him before, miss, I can promise you that. He’d probably frighten the wits out of a gentle thing like you. Used to fair scare them graybacks when he’d go runnin’ at them, all fierce and furious. You’ve never seen a thing like it.”
“Well, a fierce warrior doesn’t sound much like a fish to me,” Lucy said, helping Mr. Watley to stand once Richard had finished with his arm.
Mr. Watley chuckled again. “It was them lines he had on his face.”
Lucy stopped short. The blood rushed from her face, leaving it ice cold and frozen. She could see Mr. Watley looking at her with concern but couldn’t force a reassuring smile to save her life. Her head felt curiously light, as if it would float off at any second. But her heart pounded so hard it hurt, each beat a painful stab to her chest.
“He had lines on his face?” she heard herself ask, though she had no conscious thought to speak.
“Yes, miss. Here now, are you all right? Doctor!”
“Lines…marks…two T-shaped marks just here?” she asked, pointing to her cheekbones.
“That’s right, miss. How did you know?”
“And more lines…five lines, going from his lower lip to his chin?”
“Yes, miss. Always looked a bit like fish gills, I thought. And then with his name…Fish just fit.”
“His name? A fish name?”
“What is it?” Richard asked, having come at a run at Mr. Watley’s call. “Lucy, what’s wrong?”
Richard grasped her arm, bending over her, his eyes round with concern. She pushed him aside so she could see Mr. Watley again.
“A fish name?” she asked again, her voice sounding shrill and desperate even to her own ears.
“Yes, miss. Finn his name was. Well, that wasn’t his real name, just the short version. His real name was—”
“Finnegan,” Lucy whispered, black spots beginning to lick at the corners of her vision.
“Yes, miss. That’s it.” Mr. Watley was astounded. “Finnegan Taggart.”
Blood Blade Sisters Series (Entangled Scandalous) Page 42