And then his expression softened. He let go.
But it was too late. The world faded to black.
26
He’d killed her.
That wasn’t part of the plan.
The powder on the ground next to Gwyn caught his attention. Clarence got down on all fours. Maybe some of it could be saved.
But what about Gwyn? He’d killed her!
No. He didn’t. Someone else did.
He looked around. No one saw anything. Only the trees were witnesses.
His heart raced. Head pounded. He needed more medicine. But it was all hidden back at William’s.
It was time to leave Alaska.
“Gwyn!”
“Gwyn!”
“Gwyn, where are you? Whistle if you hear me.”
Voices! Too many of them. Who were they?
“Gwyn!”
The old Indian woman. He’d recognize that voice anywhere. He could blame her.
His brain buzzed and his focus darted around. He couldn’t stand still, but he knew he’d better clean up his appearance. He rinsed off his face and hands in the river and straightened his suit. Picking up a stick, he hid behind a tree. Hopefully the old woman would be the first one to find him.
“Gwyn!” Her voice drifted. But it was closer.
Clarence gripped the stick tighter in his hands, his palms slippery with sweat.
“Oh no! Gwyn!”
It was the Indian. She was here. Clarence watched her kneel beside Gwyn. Then he rushed her and grabbed her arms.
“Help, someone! Over here!”
“Wha—”
He slapped a hand over her mouth and yelled as loud as he could, “She killed Gwyn. Someone help! Quick!”
The woman kicked him in the shin.
‘“Ahh! You witch!” He tried to suffocate her with his hand as the sound of voices grew.
He smiled as she fought. Then he yelled, “Call for the authorities. I have her. I have the one who killed the Hillermans.”
Gwyn was dead? No! It couldn’t be.
Jeremiah ran toward the shouts. Wait. That was Clarence’s voice. What was he yelling?
He heard rustling ahead. Sadzi sprinted from the other direction.
Together they ran until they found Clarence and Nasnana, Clarence screaming that he’d caught the murderer. His eyes weren’t right. They were darting around. And the man’s hands shook as they gripped the tiny woman.
Dr. H. had suspected Clarence had an addiction, but they’d never had proof. Now Jeremiah found plenty to be afraid of. An addicted man coming down off of a high.
“Whoa, Clarence. Calm down.” He approached with slow steps, hands extended. “Why don’t you let Nasnana go?”
“No! I won’t! Look what she did to Gwyn.”
Jeremiah followed his gaze to a still form on the ground—
No!
He ran to Gwyn’s side. She lay limp . . . lifeless. Her head rested on a large rock. He lifted her head with gentle trembling hands and his fingers examined her scalp. There was substantial swelling on the back of her head. Keeping his hand behind her head, he put his ear to her chest. Oh, God, let her still be alive!
“She’s breathing!” Even shallow as it was, it gave him hope. His Gwyn wasn’t dead. Relief rippled through him. Thank you, God! In that brief moment, he remembered to breathe. Noticed his heart still beat. So this was love. He didn’t want to live without her.
His thoughts cleared. But there wasn’t much time. “What happened?”
“I told you—Nasnana killed her. I saw it!”
“She’s not dead, you idiot.” Jeremiah lost his temper. But he couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—lose the woman he loved. “Sadzi, run and tell Dr. Albrecht that I’m carrying Gwyn in. He’s going to have to get everything ready. I’m afraid she’s going to need surgery.”
The young native woman took off at a run.
“Clarence, let go of Nasnana. We’ve got to get Gwyn to the hospital.”
“I will not let go! She’s the murderer, I tell you!”
Jeremiah bolted to his feet hard and fast. Clarence stumbled back and let go of Nasnana, his eyes glazed and wide. Jeremiah’s heart pounded. Without another thought, he jerked his right fist back and slugged Clarence.
When the man fell to the ground, Jeremiah lifted Gwyn as gently as he could in his arms and looked over his shoulder at Nasnana. “Are you all right?”
“Don’t worry about me, son. Go. I’ll keep up.”
He started the trek to the hospital, trying to keep his steps soft. But the cursing and yelling behind reminded him that Clarence wasn’t done. Jeremiah picked up his pace.
More ranting reached his ears. “I caught the murderer! She did it! You won’t be safe! Someone catch the Indian woman!”
Jeremiah hoped someone else would hear the man’s rants and come help them. But his priority was getting Gwyn to the hospital. And fast.
His heart pounded from the exertion, but Jeremiah forged ahead. What would Dr. H. do?
Pray.
Lord, I’m sorry for walking away from you. But please, Lord, heal Gwyn. I want to serve you for the rest of my days, and I want her by my side. Please, Lord. Forgive me. Help me to always follow your will for my life from today until the day you take me home.
He was almost there. People started coming toward them. Thank God for Clarence and his crazy ranting. Don, Stu, and Eugene exited the ARRC building, and Dr. Albrecht spotted him with Gwyn and ran toward them.
“What happened?” The doctor walked with him and lifted her head.
“I don’t know. But she’s got a large hematoma, and her breathing is shallow. She must have hit her head. She was on the ground when I got to her.”
Dr. Albrecht frowned as he examined the wound. “We’d better move fast. The swelling is putting pressure on the brain, and that could kill her.”
27
Jeremiah heard the commotion outside, but he couldn’t let that distract him. Dr. Albrecht had two nurses assisting and Jeremiah went to wash up.
“Jeremiah, come look at this.”
He lifted his hands from the water and brought the towel with him. “What’ve you found, Earl?”
“Look. There’s bruising around her neck and here on her arms. Look at the span. There’s no way a tiny woman like Nasnana could have caused this damage.”
Clarence. Jeremiah looked out the window. “Nurse Abigail, could you ask Mr. Irwin to join us in here? Be calm. Just make sure he comes. Immediately.”
“Yes, Doctor.” She rushed out the door.
“Earl, what do you think?”
“I think we need to operate. And I think you are the perfect man for the job.”
Jeremiah sank to a chair. Could he really operate on the woman he loved? What if he messed up?
Gwyn started to moan on the table.
“I don’t think we have much time, Jeremiah. That pressure has to be relieved off her brain before it does damage to the brain tissue. Harold said you had a great deal of experience in this area.”
“Yes.” He had studied under the top brain surgeons in the country. This was his field of expertise. “But, Earl, there’s something you need to know—”
“We don’t have time right now, Jeremiah. Her heart rate is erratic. Tell me later.”
“But what about Clarence and Mr. Irwin?”
“I’ll go tell Irwin. You prep for surgery. Now!”
Ten minutes later, Jeremiah was operating on Gwyn. He hated to shave part of her beautiful curls off, but they’d grow back. He didn’t care how much hair she had. He just wanted her alive.
The procedure didn’t take long, and as soon as all the fluid was drained, Gwyn started to stabilize.
Thank you, Lord.
Dr. Albrecht smiled at him. “I think you’ve done it. Good job, Dr. Vaughan.”
Jeremiah breathed a small sigh. But he couldn’t rest until he knew for sure that Gwyn would wake up.
The nurses cleaned up around him, and
he washed up. Then he brought a chair to her side and waited.
He laid his head on the cot beside her and prayed. He understood now, more than ever, that God truly was in control. And Jeremiah realized he was thankful that it was out of his control. Let the Great Physician handle it.
Something moved above his head. And then fingers touched his hair. He slowly lifted his head. Gwyn’s hand was in his hair, her eyes mere slits.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” Her voice cracked.
“Let me get you some water. But just a sip at a time, all right?”
She blinked.
He braced her neck and back and lifted her so she could take a sip.
She held a hand up. “That’s enough.”
Dr. Albrecht walked over. “She’s awake.”
“Yes, she is.” Jeremiah squeezed her hand. “You’re going to be all right, Gwyn.”
“Clarence—”
“What about Clarence?”
“He attacked me. He’s crazy.”
Jeremiah looked to Earl. His friend nodded and raced out of the room. Her statement would be all the authorities needed.
“Gwyn, hang on, sweetie. They’ll take care of Clarence.”
“I don’t want him to hurt anyone else—”
“Shh, it’s okay. Don’t try to talk. I love you, Gwyn.” He squeezed her hand as her eyes closed. “Do you hear me? I love you, Gwyn. And I’ll never let him hurt you again.”
The train pulled into Palmer, and Frank stepped off before it came to a stop. He would find Clarence today. He hadn’t followed the man’s trail for months on end and traveled thousands of miles to quit now.
He spied the government office and made a beeline toward it. A group of men were in a lively discussion outside.
“Gentlemen, could one of you direct me to a Mr. Eugene Carr?”
Everyone stilled. A man stepped forward. “That’s me. What can I help you with?”
“I’m Frank Rhoads with the Pinkertons. I’m looking for a Clarence Novak.”
All eyes were now riveted on him.
“Let’s step into my office.” Mr. Carr ushered him into the small building and closed the door. “Mr. Rhoads, we’re in the process of looking for Clarence right now.”
“What’s happened?”
“He attacked a woman and accused another woman of it, but the victim confirmed it was Clarence. She also stated that he was crazy. We also have a murder from a few days ago.” He slid a paper to Frank. “Dr. Hillerman, who was suffocated. And then a woman died suspiciously of berry poisoning several weeks prior to that. We’ve also just confirmed that Dr. Hillerman had suspected Clarence of an addiction to morphine—apparently caught him trying to steal some from the hospital in the middle of the night.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if Clarence was responsible for all of these.” Frank laid the papers back down. “His past is strewn with dead bodies.”
“Well, I know the colony would sleep a lot better if you could help us catch this guy. We’ve been watching the trains. There’s no other way out, other than on foot.”
“Where’s the woman he attacked?”
“In the hospital. She had to have brain surgery earlier.”
“Is she awake?”
“I don’t know.” Mr. Carr sat on the edge of his desk. “But I know that we will help you in any way we can, Mr. Rhoads. Why don’t we go see Gwyn?”
Frank carried his one bag with him as they trekked to the hospital. Fortunately, it wasn’t far. He was ready to end this. Justice would be served and Clarence Novak would pay.
Something cool was laid on her forehead. Gwyn opened her eyes. Confusion flooded her thoughts, making it impossible to understand her surroundings.
Jeremiah smiled at her. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Her voice seemed to croak.
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired.” She could barely speak above a whisper. “My head . . . my throat . . . hurt.”
“That’s to be expected. You’re going to have to take it easy for quite a while. Don’t try to talk. You’ve got some swelling from the strangulation, but it will pass.”
She nodded. Her eyelids were heavy.
“Dr. Vaughan.” An unfamiliar male voice spoke outside the curtain.
She felt a kiss on her nose. “I’ll be right back.”
Whispers drifted over to her, but her brain was too tired to listen.
“Gwyn?” She heard Jeremiah whisper in her ear.
“Yes?” Only one eye obeyed. Then it shut again.
“Gwyn, this is Mr. Rhoads. He’s a Pinkerton agent. He needs to ask you some questions about Clarence. I don’t want you to strain your voice, so nod or shake your head when you can. If you can’t answer that way then speak very softly—not above a whisper.”
Using every bit of willpower within her, she forced her eyes to open.
“Miss Hillerman, I just have a few questions.”
She nodded.
“I understand Clarence Novak attacked you.”
She nodded in affirmation.
“And you’re positive it was him?”
Another nod.
“Can you tell me why?”
“He wanted me to go away with him, and I said no.”
Rhoads nodded. “And did he say where he wanted to take you?”
She struggled to remember and shook her head.
Leaning closer, Rhoads narrowed his eyes. “It’s really important that you remember everything he said.”
Gwyn frowned. “I’m trying to.” She swallowed against the soreness in her throat. “He was mad that I’d said no. He said that no one told him no.” She paused and closed her eyes for a moment. The feel of Clarence’s hands around her throat caused her to shudder. “He said my father was stupid—nosy.” Her eyes shot open. “He said he would show me . . . just like he’d shown my father.”
In her dreams Gwyn saw her father, Jeremiah, and her sister standing in wedding attire. Sophia looked much as she had when she’d left six years ago—still a little girl, her chin high in the air.
“I’m going to marry Jeremiah,” she said in a haughty voice. “You cannot have him because he’s going to marry me.”
Gwyn looked at Jeremiah. He was smiling, but he seemed sad. She turned to her father. “Why is he marrying Sophia? He said he loves me.”
Her father shrugged. “The heart always knows.”
She looked again to Jeremiah. “You said you loved me. You know that I love you.”
Jeremiah shook his head. “No. You can’t love me. I lied to you. You can’t forgive me.”
Her father nodded. “You can’t forgive.”
Gwyn felt tears form in her eyes. “But I can. I can forgive. I do forgive. I love you, Jeremiah.” The images began to fade. “Come back. I love you. I forgive you.” But they were gone.
When she awoke, it was dark outside. Her head still felt like someone was banging on it—using it as a drum. But her thoughts were a little clearer, and her throat hurt a little less. She tried to remember what had happened last, but thoughts of her dream came back to haunt her.
With a turn of her head, she found Jeremiah asleep in a chair, his hand holding hers. Her heart melted at the sight of him. Could she really have found love? It didn’t seem possible.
Gwyn filled her lungs with a deep breath. “I forgive you.”
Jeremiah opened his eyes and leaned forward. “Hey there. Sorry I fell asleep. Did you say something? How do you feel?”
“A little better. But not great.” Her whisper made him smile.
He touched her forehead and pulled out his stethoscope. “May I?”
She nodded and he listened to her heart.
“Sounds strong. Much better. I think we’re past the worst, but it’s going to take some time for you to heal. Why don’t you get some more rest? I won’t leave. I’ll be right here.” He scooted the chair closer and picked up her hand again.
“But I need to tell you something.”
He looked at her oddly. “Something you remember about Clarence?”
She shook her head. “About forgiveness.” She smiled. “I forgive you, and I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“I’m most grateful for your mercy. God knows I don’t deserve it. But, Gwyn, I can’t forgive you, because you’ve done nothing wrong.”
She was too tired and her throat hurt too much to argue with him. “Were you telling the truth when you said you loved me?”
His smile lit his face. She could get lost in the depths of his eyes. “Yes. I was. I’ve loved you almost from the start, even though my stubbornness and pride got in the way. I thought for sure my past would ruin any chance of a future with you. I honestly never loved Sophia the way I love you. I never loved anyone the way I love you.”
She smiled. “I feel the same way about you. But I do have one request.”
“What is it?”
“That you never lie to me again.”
“I never wanted to lie to you in the first place. I was foolish and selfish. I thought only of guarding myself—keeping others from knowing the truth so that I wouldn’t have to bear the shame. I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry isn’t enough.” He looked at her in confusion, and Gwyn couldn’t help but giggle. “Promise me,” she insisted.
Her laughter immediately changed his mood. “And what exactly do I get in return for agreeing to this request, miss?” His cocky grin only made his eyes twinkle more.
She smiled. “My whole heart.”
“Your request is granted. I promise I will never lie to you again.” He leaned forward, his smile growing. “Will you promise me something?”
“What?”
“Promise you will love me for the rest of my life and marry me.”
She sighed. “Of course. I thought you’d never ask.”
Harsh clapping sounded from behind the curtain. The curtain ripped open—
Clarence entered the room. “Very touching scene, worthy of the stage itself.”
Even as Gwyn held back a scream, she felt Jeremiah tense beside her, knew he was about to stand, so she grabbed both of his hands in hers. He looked at her, and then followed her gaze back to Clarence’s hand.
And the gun he held.
All Things Hidden Page 26