by Jillian Hart
“I want her safe. I want her happy. I’d think, as her brother, that you’d want the same.”
“Sure I do. I want her happy. But we both know there’s no such thing as safe. Not in this life. Living is a risk. Loving is a risk. That’s why I’m not a courting man. Some risks are best to avoid. Others, well, you just can’t.”
“It’s always a wise decision to avoid women, romance and marriage.” Bitterness curdled on his tongue as he hefted the headboard toward the doorway.
“So that’s what’s got you in this foul mood.” Liam followed down the stairwell with the footboard. “What happened with Claire?”
“None of your damn business.”
“Well, then, I guess Ma won the bet.”
Joshua skidded to a halt. “Ma? Our mother does not gamble.”
“You’d be surprised. She bet that you would never marry Claire. She said that you won’t marry anyone. Too stubborn. Too set in your ways. That you couldn’t hand over that much control.”
“She didn’t say that.” Although like a lock clicking into place, he knew the truth when he heard it. She’d hit the nail on the head, all right. That was why he’d walked away from Claire that night. Why he’d protect her, defend her, take care of her and befriend her, but why he’d never trust her enough for more. The notion terrified him. He was in control of his life. And he liked it that way.
So why did it only make him feel more desolate?
“If it’s any consolation,” Liam continued as they pushed out onto the front porch, “Gran predicted you’d get Claire in a family way and have to marry her.”
Gran knew the look of a man who was falling hard, Joshua realized. He hadn’t fooled anyone—not one member of his family. He’d only tricked himself into believing he wasn’t in love with Claire. And that it hadn’t changed him. Of course, he wouldn’t admit this to anyone, least of all his brothers. He was the head of the family; it wasn’t by choice but by duty, and he’d gotten used to it. He had to shrug off this weakness, because the stronger he was, the better decisions he made for his family.
Except now that wasn’t enough. There was nothing on this earth that could begin to patch up the hole Claire had left in his heart. And in his life.
He slid the bottom edge of the headboard onto the tailgate of Duncan’s wagon and climbed up into the bed. From this height, he had a perfect view through the dining room window, where Betsy stood in her fiancé’s embrace, gazing up into his face with all her loving heart.
What defeated him was the way the mountain man—the man he thought so disreputable and bad for Betsy—was gazing down at the woman in his arms. Strong. Protective. Deeply tender.
It was surely an illusion, a trick of the light. Joshua stubbornly refused to believe anything else. His own father had been miserable every day that Joshua could remember. Every day. Heaven knows he loved his mother, but she was a domineering woman who had pushed and henpecked and prodded Pa into outright misery.
Look at James. He couldn’t even come help today because his wife had other plans for him. The same excuse she’d used for nearly every holiday and family gathering since their wedding day.
Joshua was in love with Claire. He couldn’t deny it and wasn’t going to pretend otherwise. He’d fallen, and he’d fallen so hard he could feel the beat of her heart within his own.
But he was making the right decision, to stay strong. He didn’t need love. He didn’t need her.
He didn’t need anyone.
Claire huddled in her coat. Her breath rose in foggy clouds in front of her. How long had she been trapped with the walls creeping in? She had no notion. The sheriff was still at his desk, sipping steaming coffee. The scratch of his ink pen on paper filled the unending silence. What had seemed like infinity sitting here in the damp and dark could only have been a few hours at most.
What would it be like to live like this for days, weeks, months on end? Her stomach fisted. She was going to find out. Not that she liked that notion at all. What about Thor? He was left tied to the hitching post outside. She could hear the wind buffeting the thick stone walls and smell the plumes of smoke driven down the stovepipe from the harsh gusts. The temperature had to be falling. Was Thor cold? Thirsty? Afraid?
And what would become of Loki at home? She needed to send someone out to feed him. And her business…she didn’t want to think of the duffels and bags of laundry she had yet to deliver today. And the dirties she’d intended to pick up.
She was an entrepreneur. She had responsibilities. Betsy had wanted to find someone dependable for her loyal customers. And now Claire felt sick with the realization she’d let Betsy down.
Worse, she realized she’d never see Joshua again. Not even from a distance. Not to bump into him on the street. Nothing.
Why did love hurt so much, as if a noose had lassoed tightly about her heart and was dragging her behind a horse? Every inch of her stung. More than injury. More than heartache. More than grief could ever do alone.
What kind of love was this? She wanted this to be over. She wanted this to end. Why couldn’t she will these feelings away? Even locked away from the world, she still felt the loss of him within every fiber of her being.
The whoosh of the wind and the rattle of the potbellied stove’s door told her someone had arrived. The Hamiltons again? They’d warned that they would be back.
Only one pair of boots tromped on the plank floor. A fleeting hope flashed through her. Awareness skidded over her chilled skin like a summer breeze.
Joshua. She could feel his presence like a voice in her soul. She straightened beneath the blanket she’d swaddled around her like a shawl, overwhelmed by the snap of awareness telegraphing down her spine.
The sheriff’s pen continued to scratch, the fire to roar in the belly of the red-hot stove, but to her everything changed. She waited for him in the gray stone room beyond the cell, her spirit turning toward him like the earth to the moon in search of its light.
He’s very near. She felt the twisting recognition in the deep, private places of her soul. And she knew it was Joshua before the sound of footsteps halted just outside the sheriff’s office.
It’s him. Deep down, she celebrated the sight of him as he burst into the office, all fierce male energy, not violent, not frightening, no. It was a different kind of fierce. A different kind of fear. He stalked to the sheriff’s desk like a soldier home from a victory, charging the room with his dazzling presence.
Well, Claire realized, maybe she was the only one dazzled.
“Gable. I didn’t hear you come in.” The lawman looked annoyed that his work was being interrupted, his quill held midway between the inkwell and the paper. “Are you havin’ more trouble with your sheep?”
“Not since Ham passed away. Funny thing, don’t you think? I came to see why Claire’s horse is tied up outside.” Joshua glanced around the small serviceable room. There was no sign of a woman—or of another person—in this place.
Panic began beating a quick rhythm in his chest. Was there a problem? Should he have dealt more harshly with the Hamiltons last night? It’s just that he’d been sure the boys would back down. The last thing they could afford was to spend more time in jail calming down—
Something caught his attention. There in the dusky corner of one of the two cells. A shape too small to be a man, too fine boned to be an adolescent. If he squinted just right, he could see her familiar, delicate profile sitting on a battered cot on the far side of the cell, huddled beneath a shapeless blanket, her lustrous hair tumbling everywhere.
Claire. All the misery fled from his heart. All the darkness from his core. His entire being pulsed with life, as if he’d awakened after a long slumber.
He could still feel the space she’d claimed in his soul. How unlikely was that? He’d done everything he could to rip her from his very spirit and nothing, not one thing, could diminish the brightness she’d put in his heart.
“What are you doing in there?” Fury roiled as he put the pi
eces together. Logan and the Hamiltons had gone against him, discounting his threats. How could she be arrested for the theft of her own horse? “Sheriff, there’s a problem here. Get your keys.”
“Sorry, Gable. There’s no mistake.”
“Bull. Claire doesn’t belong there.” Joshua turned to her, his manner reassuring and kind. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll get you out of this.” He seemed unaware of the endearment as he stormed over to the sheriff’s desk and pounded his fist on the wood surface.
The pen flew from the lawman’s grip. “Whoa, there, Gable. Don’t you go blamin’ me for this.”
“She’s innocent, and you damn well know it.” Joshua seemed to rear up like a furious grizzly; he was taller, stronger, and so fierce the stone walls vibrated with his raw fury. “Give me the keys.”
“Watch it, Gable.”
The sheriff’s warning bounced off him like hail—he wasn’t scared of the lawman. He was too enraged at the sight of the woman he loved—no, the woman he didn’t want to love—locked in a cage like a rabbit in a trap. He seized the ring from the lawman’s belt, yanked and fumbled through the keys on the way to the cell.
The sheriff was shouting something, but Joshua didn’t care. He only knew he had to get to her. He’d failed to protect and defend her. By God, he would not fail her now.
The key turned, the door opened and he tossed the ring back at the sheriff. The lawman’s mouth moved, but Joshua couldn’t hear anything above the roar of fury in his ears and the thrum of urgency in his heartbeat. He was barely aware of the cold biting his skin and stinging his eyes as he dropped onto his knees before her.
“Claire.” Emotion choked him. For a man who didn’t have feelings, they were spewing up as if from a newly dug well, rising higher and higher until he was swimming in them. The raw, dark pain he’d been living with died the instant he took her small hand in his. So cold, so vulnerable, so dear. He pressed his lips to her knuckles and lost hold of his heart. Uncontrollable affection left him drowning.
And like a man swept into a flooding river, there was no firm ground to stand on, no way to swim to shore, no chance in hell to stop the force of the current that had seized him. He was a drowning man lost as he laid his face in her lap, so grateful just to be near her. Just to know she was going to be all right. He’d make sure of it.
“You can’t be here.” Her fingers squeezed his tightly, holding on as if she were drowning, too. “It’s not good for you.”
“Me? You’re the one in here.” It was killing him seeing her, so good and gentle in spirit, punished like this. “I will not let you be condemned. Don’t you worry. I’m here now.”
“That’s the problem. You can’t be here. Logan knows somehow that you were at my place the night that Ham was shot. I guess I never thought about it. Of course he was shot. That’s how he died.”
“Haskins is the only doctor in the county, Claire. His brother is the undertaker.” Joshua pitched his voice low, so the sheriff couldn’t hear, but the lawman had marched out of sight, probably to bring in reinforcements. “They made sure the cause of death was blamed on a fall, not a bullet. Ham was shot in the back. I’m sure it was self-defense, Claire. The doc, hell, even the undertaker knows that. Anyone with eyes could see how Ham treated you.”
“What? Me? I don’t understand. Surely you’re not trying to blame me? Not when you—” No, that wasn’t right. Joshua would never betray her like that. The moment she thought it, she discarded it. Ham would have gladly blamed her for a murder and sent her in his stead to jail, but not Joshua. Not noble, honest, decent Joshua. “I thought you—”
He only stared at her, his eyes great dark pools. “I’m going to get you out on bail. It’s late, but I’ll fetch Callan from his house and we’ll be back. You won’t stay in this godforsaken cell a moment longer than necessary. I swear it. I’ll get you out of this.”
“It’s not your responsibility.” And if Joshua hadn’t shot Ham, in self-defense as she’d imagined, or for any reason at all, then someone else had. Someone who had a lot to lose.
She knew how cruel people could be—she’d seen far too much of it in her life. And it didn’t matter if she was married to a brutal man or not, the world was full of such men.
And if anything happened to Joshua, if he were discovered in a field with a bullet in his back as Ham had been, well, then the loss would be staggering. Not only to her heart, but also to all the people who loved him. He had family. He had a good life. She saw all that could happen to him in a flash—if the lawmen decided he was guilty of murder.
I would never want that for you. Falsely accused, wrongly imprisoned. The punishment for murder in this territory was hanging. That’s no way for a good man to die. For she had no more doubts, not one, that Joshua was a good man. When he reared up in a temper like a vengeful bear, it was for rightness’ sake and not for his own.
So much stood between them, he’d lost faith somewhere along the way. So had she. Maybe, if they’d met before Joshua had become embittered and before she’d met and married Ham, maybe this great love they shared would have had a chance.
But now…the unforgiving walls and bars of steel crept in ever closer as if to whisper, There’s no escape.
“Not my responsibility?” he choked out, as if he couldn’t believe she’d told him that. As if he couldn’t see they’d made their choices, and those choices had taken them further apart. Different lives. Different directions. “I gave my word to you. I promised you that I’d keep you safe.”
“That is not yours to promise. They think we are lovers, Joshua. And you know that’s not true. They think we were seeing each other before Ham was killed.”
“Those things are easy enough to prove. We have the truth on your side.” He stroked his hand along the curve of her jaw, cradling her face. A tender gesture.
I don’t want to feel this way for him. She tried to rein in her emotions, but they went right on. Although she remained motionless, ignoring him as if he weren’t in the room, she was aware of him with every inch of her body. Goose bumps covered her skin. Her blood rushed warm and tingly through her limbs. Her heart’s center flooded with feeling and she felt the tug and pull of him, as if he were right there in the very center of her soul. I love him so much. I don’t want to love him so much.
But she did. More than her life. More than anything. There was no use in denying it. Not now. Not when everything in her life was lost.
There was a crash in the entrance and the hammering of several pairs of footsteps in the hallway. The sheriff broke into the room, face red with fury, a small army of men marching in behind him.
“Your time’s up, Gable. You don’t own this town, as much as you’d like to think you do. Get outta that cell. I’d be more than happy to lock you up, too.”
Joshua rose slowly, deliberately, as if he wasn’t bothered at all by the armed men surrounding the cell. “Did you think I came in here to break her out? How dumb are you, Sheriff? Dumb enough to lock up an innocent woman, that’s what.”
Reed Hamilton shoved into sight, his stone-cold gaze glittering. “There ain’t nothin’ innocent about that woman. You oughta know. The two of you murdered my brother.”
“You’re just angry I won’t let you bully her into handing over the land and the horses.” Joshua moved so he stood in front of Claire, protecting her from the men and their drawn guns. “I know you’re a gambler, Reed. A gambler who’s always on the losing end. And this time you’re wrong, as usual. Claire didn’t have anything to do with your brother’s death. That’s the plain truth.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because she wasn’t there when he was killed. I was.” Joshua held up his hands, approaching the open doorway to shield Claire from what was to happen next. “I shot Ham.”
Chapter Nineteen
Claire watched in horror as Reed’s fist flew. Joshua raised his arm to block the blow, only to receive Rick’s left hook square in the jaw. His knees buckled.
&
nbsp; “Joshua!” She sprang from the cot as he fell. Time stretched out in long, tormenting ticks. She hit the floor, her hands already reaching, but not fast enough.
The back of his skull cracked against the stone floor.
She caught him as his head bounced upward, recoiling from the impact. As she cradled his head in her lap, she ignored the commotion outside the cell, and stroked her hand along Joshua’s face. “Can you hear me?”
His forehead furrowed as he groaned, fighting even as unconsciousness dragged him back down.
She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Joshua? Please wake up. You have to—”
Strong hands banded her arms and yanked her upward. “No!” She couldn’t leave Joshua. The Hamiltons’ hatred hung in the air, tainting it like a smoldering fire’s smoke. “Joshua!”
He moaned, his head twisting out of her hold as she was wrenched away. His skull smacked against the floor again. No! He was defenseless. He was outnumbered. He was alone. She wouldn’t leave him. She twisted and fought even as Logan and Rick hauled her from the cell.
“No, let go!” She dug her heels into the floor to try to stop them. She jerked against their hold on her, feeling her skin burn as she twisted and kicked. “Let me go!”
“That’s the idea.” Logan gave her a shove out the door. The men released her at the same time, swinging her hard. Her shoulder slammed against a post. The air slammed out of her lungs as she skidded to a stop on the boardwalk. Dusk had fallen; ice crisped the boards as she crawled onto her knees and stood. She had to get back to Joshua. She had to save him. “Wait! Rick!”
The big brute, as beefy and hard as Ham had been, turned in an eerily similar way, the light from the hallway shading him in darkness. “We’re no longer family. Get lost.”
“You have to stop this. Joshua didn’t shoot Ham. You know he didn’t. You know it, if you’d just stop to think—”
“You know what I think?” His sneer was slow and evil. “Ham was too soft on you. He never taught you your place, not good enough. Or you wouldn’t be crawling onto your feet wearing a blue dress. Blue, not black. That was my brother your lover killed.”