He sprang from the chair, marched to her bureau top and scooped all her lucky trinkets into his arms. “Are these what you need?” He dumped them on the bed against her and started pushing them into her hands. “Take them, Linsey. Take them and make your wishes or spit over your shoulder or whatever it is that you do. Just . . .” His voice broke. “Don’t leave me.”
A warm breath against her neck reached deep into Linsey’s glazed state, rousing her from the depths of a heat she couldn’t escape.
It took all the strength she could summon to lift her hand to the head resting under her chin. She touched the silky hair, feeling weak as a newborn baby, yet compelled to comfort the man at her side. Somehow, she knew that he had been there all along. He hadn’t left her.
Her eyes went blurry at the thought of leaving him behind, of never being held by him again, never hearing him laugh. . . .
You’ll fight for your sister, you’ll fight for your friends, you’ll even fight for me, but you won’t fight for yourself. What are you so afraid of?
With the words echoing in her head, Linsey fell back against the pillows and stared into the cloudlike netting above her bed. What was she afraid of?
Failing.
It always seemed easier to blame things that went wrong on the signs, on fate’s whim, rather than accept that if she had only taken control, she might have been able to change destiny. She might have been able to stop her mother’s death, her father’s desertion, her own desperate need to be needed by those around her—even at the cost of their own independence.
Maybe Daniel had been right all along. Maybe things just happened because it was the way they were meant to happen. That sometimes, to gain something bigger, you had to take a risk.
What if, just once, she did doubt the signs? What if she actually let herself believe in another power—in Daniel’s faith in her, in the love she felt for him, and the love he felt for her in return. What was the worst that could happen?
“Daniel?” His name slurred on her tongue. Strange, she felt so in command of her senses despite the fire burning in her body.
He bolted upright. “Jesus . . . Linsey?”
“What day?”
Again the words came out in a jumble.
“What?”
“What. Day?”
“Today? New Year’s Eve.”
Linsey closed her eyes. The last day of the year. It was now or never. Opening her eyes, she said in the same oddly garbled voice, “Take them away.”
“Take what away?”
“The charms. Take them away. I am going to beat this.”
“Good heavens, Daniel, she’s delirious,” Addie said, appearing behind him.
Linsey met Daniel’s stare. He looked terrible—haggard and drawn and sporting a thick growth of black whiskers, as if he hadn’t slept or shaved in days. Linsey willed him to understand her words, for she didn’t think she had the strength to repeat them.
At last, a sparkle entered his eyes. He shook his head and told Addie, “No, she’s lucid—though it might be the lull between attacks. The second attack is almost always more severe than the initial one.”
“She won’t survive it.”
“I think she wants to try—on her own.”
Linsey managed a crooked smile for him. He understood.
“You can do this, sweetheart,” he told her, clasping her hand. “I’ll be right here for you.”
And she realized then, that if she weakened in her resolve, he’d become her strength. If she wavered in the belief in herself, he would be her faith. No matter what happened, that knowledge would live inside her.
Against her will, Linsey drifted in and out of awareness. She couldn’t seem to fight this incredible weariness for long, and though it frustrated her, she refused to give up. Each time she felt herself being pulled under, she squeezed Daniel’s hand and felt herself rise to the surface again, as if his strength fed hers.
Reaching midnight was all she could think of, all she could focus on as the day and night wore on. If she could just get past midnight, she’d beat Fate at her own game. She’d hold Lady Luck in the palm of her hand. She would stand on the edge of that unknown place she’d always dreamed of, and look down, and feel the exhilaration of being someplace she’d never been before.
A sudden silence descended upon the room, and she sensed that the time of reckoning had come. Daniel’s hand squeezed hers tightly, Addie’s arm curled around her shoulder, and Aunt Louisa’s soft-skinned fingers held her other wrist.
She felt everyone hold their breath, and then she heard the clock. One.
Two.
Three.
Linsey clenched her eyes tight and braced herself. I won’t go without a fight. I won’t leave Daniel, I won’t leave Addie, I won’t leave Aunt Louisa. . . .
Twelve. The last strike echoed in the silence.
Then someone laughed—Daniel, she thought—and someone cried. Probably Addie. And someone sighed, no doubt Aunt Louisa.
Linsey simply smiled. She’d done it.
A gentle spring breeze ruffled the grasses alongside Horseshoe Creek, where the town had gathered to celebrate the double wedding of Adelaide Witt to Oren Potter, and Linsey Gordon to Dr. Daniel Sharpe, Jr.
There had been a time when Daniel had feared this day would never dawn. Linsey’s recovery had been slow—sometimes agonizingly slow—but if he’d learned anything over his lifetime, it was that healing had its own timetable. The epidemic hadn’t swept through Horseshoe without taking casualties—Granny Yearling and the Neely baby had both succumbed—and the town mourned their loss.
Though Daniel mourned along with them, he gave thanks that his Linsey had been spared. Neither quite knew where the credit should go for her recovery. Linsey’s strong will, his own, or—Daniel’s hand crept to his neck where a gold-lined amulet had lain against his heart since the night of December thirty-first—other elements, but he wasn’t about to question it. All he knew as he stood beside this vision in blue, and listened to Reverend Simon say the words that would bind them together for the rest of their days, was that his life had never been more complete. He was due to start his first year at Johns Hopkins in the fall, and there were even rumors of a hospital being built there. Who knew? One day he might even work on staff at the hospital, and be a part of a surgical team of pioneers discovering new and innovative treatments.
Right now, life was good. And as he took Linsey’s hand in his own, and slipped a thin gold band on her finger, he couldn’t help but wonder how he’d ever gotten so damned lucky.
Dear Reader,
If you love westerns the way that I love westerns, then you won’t want to miss Connie Mason’s latest love story, To Tempt a Rogue. When Ryan Delaney—the third Delaney brother—leaves the family ranch on what he hopes will be a great adventure, he never expects to get mixed up with Kitty Johnson. Is Kitty really running from the law, or is this a case of mistaken identity? And as passion flares between them, Ryan must determine if he’s thinking with his head. . .or his heart.
Lovers of contemporary romance won’t want to miss Hailey North’s delightful, delicious Pillow Talk! Meg Cooper has always believed in what she calls “possibles,” but is it possible to become engaged to a stranger for only two weeks? Sexy, wealthy Jules Ponthier woos Meg with promises of this “innocent” proposition—but how long can she resist this irresistible man? If you haven’t yet become a fan of Hailey North, I guarantee this will make you one.
Karen Kay has thrilled countless readers with her sensuous, unforgettable love stories with Native American heroes. Her latest, Night Thunder’s Bride, highlights her heartfelt brand of storytelling as a young pioneer woman must become the wife of Night Thunder, a Blackfoot warrior.
Eileen Putman makes her Avon debut with the wonderful King of Hearts, a Regency rake who is plucked from a hangman’s noose and unexpectedly rescued by Louisa Peabody, a golden-haired beauty who seems to be the only woman in England who can resist his many charms.
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Until next month, enjoy!
Lucia Macro
Senior Editor
About the Author
RITA-nominated author RACHELLE MORGAN learned all about lucky signs and omens from her maternal grandmother, who believed in never setting a hat on a bed or opening an umbrella indoors, and went out of her way to avoid black cats. Inspired, Rachelle decided to bring such superstitions to life in the most enjoyable and entertaining way she knows—through her love of writing.
As for believing in luck herself, well, there must be something to it: after all, she’s spent the last fifteen years married to her very own hero, been blessed with four beautiful children, and just prior to becoming an Avon Books author, she did find a four-leaf clover . . . If that isn’t lucky, What is?
Rachelle invites you to write to her at PO Box 1217, Hughes Springs, TX 75656, or e-mail her at [email protected] You may also visit her and other “Avon ladies” at www.judithivory.com/avonladies
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
Also by Rachelle Morgan
AN UNLIKELY LADY by Rachelle Morgan
WILD CAT CAIT by Rachelle Morgan
MUSTANG ANNIE by Rachelle Morgan
A SCANDALOUS LADY by Rachelle Morgan
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Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
AVON BOOKS, INC.
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New York, New York 10019
Inside cover author photo by Dobbs Photography
Published by arrangement with the author
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 98-94818
ISBN: 0-380-80040-3
EPub Edition December 2014 ISBN 9780062381477
www.avonbooks.com/romance
LOVING LINSEY. Copyright © 1999 by Rachelle Nelson. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
First Avon Books Printing: June 1999
AVON TRADEMARK REG. U.S. PAT. OFF. AND IN OTHER COUNTRIES, MARCA REGISTRADA. HECHO EN U.S.A.
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