The Thorn Bearer

by Pepper Basham

  “Stop this, now,” the brunette screamed, causing the little boy in her arms to whimper. “How can you do this to a man who is practically your brother, Sam Miller?”

  The woman knew him? Sam really looked at her, taking in the round hazel eyes, pale freckles across her nose, and honey curls. “Annette Dixon?”

  He switched his attention to the little boy at her waist. Those eyes? The face? Almost four years ago – when he’d found Michael in the back room of a pub. Air clenched in his lungs. He pulled his friend up by the jacket, bringing him to face-level. “Michael, what have you done?”

  Michael shoved Sam away. “Something I’m willing to fix.” His gaze shifted from Sam to settle on Ashleigh. The fire in Michael’s eyes dimmed. “We need to talk.”

  Ashleigh hitched a breath and Sam slid his palm down her arm to let her know he wasn’t going anywhere. Her gaze flitted to his, the pleading look bringing him closer, as a guard.

  He turned back to Michael. “I think it’s a little late for talking, don’t you?”

  “It’s late for a lot of things, but seeing you, Ash.” He ran a hand through his hair and took a step forward. Ashleigh tensed. Sam moved closer. Friend or not, he’d beat Michael to saw dust if he placed one hand on Ashleigh.

  “We were friends once. I’m not a monster. I want you to understand.”

  Sam forced a humorless laugh. “Not a monster. Just a coward.”

  Michael’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Coward? The only cowardly thing I’ve done is not tell Ashleigh about Stephen.”

  Sam gestured toward Annette with a toss of his head. “You didn’t forget someone, did you? You’re wheeling away with your son and—”

  “His wife.” She announced, pale eyes challenging him. “On our wedding cruise.”

  Michael squeezed his eyes closed and released a long stream of air through his nose.

  “W...Wife?” Sam stuttered. A blow to the face would have been less painful. He couldn’t grasp the situation fast enough. “Your wife?”

  The word felt strange on his lips, sour, wrong. Not only had he fathered her child, but married Annette and then took her on the wedding cruise meant for Ashleigh? It was unconscionable. Had desperation really forced him to such a low? Back in Millington when his schemes merely upset a business owner or riled a jealous suitor, he’d excuse them as a part of Michael’s makeup. Sam’s father had taken time and love to draw Michael away from his harsh grandparents and into the fold of his family, but trouble pursued him like the Baskerville hound. Evidently the stains of his past couldn’t be changed. He was lost – and there was no hope for reform.

  “Ashleigh, give me ten minutes to explain. Annette has family in Ireland, and it was one less ticket to buy.”

  “You’re married?” Ashleigh pushed passed Sam, her voice hard and stance unswerving. “And on our wedding trip?” Without warning her hand made contact with Michael’s cheek. He covered his cheek and stumbled back.

  Annette lunged forward, nearly dropping her son. “How dare you.”

  Ashleigh turned with raised hand. “Don’t embarrass your son by trying, Mrs. Craven. I think you’ve already neglected him enough for one day, don’t you?”

  Sam pulled his dropped bottom lip up into a slight grin. Well, at least one of them got a bruiser in – and Ashleigh deserved to release a whole lot more than Sam. Her anger proved fairly potent, judging from the red handprint emerging on Michael’s cheek. Underneath all her compassion and wit burned a fighter.

  She stepped back, her shoulder rubbing his, and that’s when he noticed her trembling hands. Even fighters reach their limits. He placed a palm to her back and she leaned against him with the slightest touch.

  Michael’s jaw tightened, a dangerous flame flickering in his eyes. He’d always been better at running away than facing the consequences, but then he would come back, repentant like a child, winning everyone over with his charm. There wasn’t enough charm on the entire ship to help him now. His deeds caught him.

  Ashleigh turned to Sam, lips twisted into an impressive snarl. “I retract my earlier comment. I was not blind. I was stupid.” She faced Michael again, jaw set and eyes in slits. “I should be grateful to you, Michael. You kept me from making a grave mistake in marrying you and realizing much too late who you really are.”

  Maybe he shouldn’t be too concerned about her taking care of herself. Though he wasn’t relinquishing any of his big brother influence any time soon. His protective impulse flared a brighter warning at Michael’s approach.

  “I had every intention of marrying you. Of being the husband you wanted. But this all happened so quickly —”

  “Quickly?” Ashleigh laughed, and the harshness in it even surprised Sam. “From the looks of your little boy, this has been going on for some time.”

  “I didn’t know about Stephen.” Michael ran a hand through his hair, their discussion beginning to draw a crowd. “Can’t we find a place to talk, privately?”

  “We have nothing to discuss.” Ashleigh stepped further away and adjusted her hat. “You have proven to be a cad, and a coward besides. How can you even admit to caring about me from what you’ve done?”

  Sam added. “And you were like family to Dad and me, Michael. Why didn’t you come to us with the news? We would have—”

  “Confess to you?” Michael jabbed the air with his finger. “Provide another problem for your father? All I’ve ever done is cause problems for him – and I could never have been as good as you. Once you’re offended, then you cut people off.” He shook his head and rubbed at his red cheek. “I couldn’t stomach the thought of your self-righteous condescension. When would my next problem be the last time you could stand me? I’ve had to make enough sacrifices over the past eight months.” His gaze went to Ashleigh. “I wasn’t interested in lowering myself even more.”

  “To hear yourself talk, you’d think you’re the only one who’s suffered here.” Sam glanced over at the little boy, large green eyes round and curious. He lowered his voice, a battle of emotions hammering together in his chest. Sam sighed. “Dad and I have always been there for you. We’ve been family.” His gaze traveled to Annette’s and back. “You didn’t have to run away.”

  “I’m not running, Sam. I’m fixing my mistakes.”

  “By making other ones?” The muscles in Sam’s shoulders unwound.

  “Michael.” Annette seized his arm, her eyes flashed. “I’ve heard enough and will not be-”

  “You’ve gotten what you wanted, Annette.” Michael stopped her with a look and she withered back. “Allow me a chance to explain.” He looked at Ashleigh. “I will not be thought of as a coward, whatever else you might think of me.”

  “Too late.”

  “Listen to me.” Michael’s voice lowered, almost to a whisper, but the flame in his eyes brightened. Sam pulled Ashleigh away from the glare, but he couldn’t protect her from Michael’s words. “I’m not the only one who’s kept secrets. I heard your father’s deathbed confession.”

  A visible change swept over Ashleigh’s countenance. Her dark eyes widened and her face paled. She clenched a fist to her chest and sagged against Sam’s side for a moment. He gripped her waist to keep her from slacking to the deck. What had Michael said? Her father’s deathbed confession? “Ash?”

  When she looked up at him tears clustered in her eyes – tears and…fear? He didn’t know to what Michael referred, and at the moment, he didn’t care. He needed to get Ashleigh away from Michael as quickly as possible. “That’s enough. Let’s go.”

  “No.” Ashleigh stopped him, her words wobbled and then hardened with a steeling lift of her chin. “I’ll see him.”

  “Ashleigh, you don’t have to do—”

  “It’s all right, Sam.” Her gaze softened and held his.

  For one second she lowered the guard around her heart. Tears, usually rare and controlled, slid silently down her cheeks. She didn’t brush them away or try to hide them as she usually did. She only stared, her hand
holding his in a vice grip. The last remnants of the little girl he used to know disappeared. Something deep and meaningful passed between them – something beyond words.

  Pain squeezed his chest and then released, leaving a hollow feeling behind. She was one of the strongest people he knew, but how much more could she carry before breaking? And how could he let her talk to Michael, only to be hurt again?

  “I have to do this.” She leaned close, never breaking eye contact. “But promise me one thing.” The plea in her eyes held him in place. “Whatever happens, promise me you’ll always be my friend.”

  “Ash, I don’t—”

  “Please, Sam.”

  He placed his hand over the one she rested on his arm. “I promise. You will always have my friendship.”

  She smiled, a sad, lonely smile, and took a deep breath. With a final squeeze she released his hand and turned to face Michael. “You have ten minutes and then I want to be rid of you.”

  Michael flinched at her words, but kept his gaze steady. “That’s all I need.”

  “If you do anything else to hurt her…” Sam stepped closer, using his two-inch height advantage to add weight to his words. “So help me, Michael...”

  Michael stared at the deck, his cheek tightened like an overly extended rubber band.

  “And only if Ashleigh is sure—” Sam checked with her again, hoping she’d say no. Was he releasing a lamb to the wolf?

  Her gaze steeled and emotions dropped away. The porcelain doll appeared. “I’m certain.”

  His soul shook. Darkness hinged on Michael’s threat. Would this meeting or his secret change her forever? How could Sam keep from losing the people he loved the most? He sent a final look to Ashleigh as she disappeared around the curve of the ship. He wouldn’t be too far behind, but he’d give her the benefit of his doubt and he’d keep his promise to her. No matter what.

  Chapter Four

  Michael offered his arm, but Ashleigh ignored it and walked two steps ahead of him toward the bow of the ship. A wild mixture of fear and anger burned through her. All this time, she’d found solace in the knowledge that only her long-time maid, Fanny, knew of her father’s sick betrayal, but now…

  Whatever Michael had to say, she’d face it, alone and free of eavesdroppers or friends who would never look at her the same way again.

  She braced herself for the lone battle.

  The horizon bloomed soft and blue with the misty blush of afternoon. An artist’s masterpiece. No, not alone. Dear God, help me.

  Her boots clipped harsh clatter against the deck and they walked in silence. Oh, if she’d been a man she’d left much more than a handprint on his cheek. Michael never cared for her. Not like a groom for his bride. Yet another betrayal to add to the list of deceitful men in her life!

  She cast one last glance to Sam before his face disappeared behind a white wall of the ship. Except Sam, or his father. Would Sam have been able to face this discussion with her and still loved her when he knew the truth?

  “I shouldn’t have announced about your father, Ashleigh. You just wouldn’t listen any other way and I had to get you to listen.”

  “Obviously self-control has never been one of your virtues.” Ashleigh stepped between the rows of lifeboats for privacy and then turned on him, voice low. “What do you want?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Did he think she was a complete idiot? She clenched a fist at her side and wondered if she should make a matching mark on his other cheek. “For your silence. Is it money, because you know as well as I do, the only person with any money in my family is Grandmama, and if you go to her with this news I will—”

  “No, no.” He held up his hands to stay her onslaught. “I’m not as bad as that. I’d never wish to wound your grandmother.” He took a deep breath and shoved his hands into his pockets. “No one should have to hear such news.”

  Hear it? Her other fist curled around her reticule. Imagine living it. She hoped the fire in her eyes wilted him. He took another step toward her without one hint of a burn.

  “I didn’t know about Stephen before I proposed. I promise.” Michael groaned and searched her gaze, a glimmer of his charm trying to shine through in his softened expression. She wouldn’t be fooled. “I received Annette’s letter the day before I left. The week after we made our travel plans.”

  She moved away from him, back against one of the whitewashed lifeboats, hands ready to battle her way out if necessary. “Why didn’t you tell me? If nothing else, our friendship demanded your honesty.”

  “Honesty?” He raised a brow, his gaze darkened for a moment and then cleared. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I didn’t—”

  “Hurt me?” A joyless laugh erupted from her lips. “And leaving without explanation would wound me less?” She rubbed her forehead with a gloved hand, the continued pulse in her head transforming into a headache to match the pain in her heart. “Oh, Michael, if I mattered to you at all, you should have told me the truth.”

  Michael examined his shoes, with little less than a grimace. How could her heart have been satisfied with this? With him? Memories and moments filtered through her thoughts, spilling onto a clear canvas in her mind. Their engagement had been built on the hope love would follow their friendship – a way to relieve her mother of the financial burdens of two unmarried daughters, but apparently Michael had never even loved her as a friend – not if this was his treatment of her heart.

  “So what is it you do want from me? How can we end this to ensure you keep my horrid secret and I never have to see you again?”

  His shoulders slumped forward; an attempt at feigning regret? How could she believe his reactions? His promises now? “I hate we’re ending things this way, like enemies. I never thought I’d see you again.”

  “With tidings such as these, I should think not. I’m sure you’d prefer to disappear into complete obscurity to save your pride, but unfortunately that choice hasn’t been given to either of us. So why bring up my father’s confession? Why talk about it now? I would expect a coward like yourself to run from confrontation.”

  “That’s just it, I’m not a coward.” His gaze narrowed and he ran his hand through his hair, upsetting his dusty blond curls into chaos. “Do you know how hard it is to live up to your reputation? When you agreed to marry me, I thought I could finally bring some good into my life — that maybe your reputation could remove some of the marks in mine, but you were so perfectly controlled and…good.”

  She rolled her eyes, her face a continual flush of heat. “I’m glad the knowledge of my father’s sin has rectified your high opinion of me, but my past was not of my own making. I hadn’t gambled away my family’s money, or lost my cares in a bottle now and again.” She waved her hand in the direction of where they’d just come. “Or sired a son outside of marriage.”

  She tightened her lips to keep more accusations in check. She’d already said enough. Too much, if Michael’s heated response was any measure.

  He stepped forward and lassoed his fingers around her wrist in a burning grip. “You see, that’s the point. You’ve always pretended to be this perfect person, when underneath...” His gaze trailed down her and she cringed. “You want to throw my past in my face? Well, now two can play at that game.” His words snaked out on a whisper. He tugged her close, his nose inches from hers. Ashleigh pulled against his hold, but his grip tightened, digging into her arm like ropes, like the hold of her father.

  She froze. A chill trickled down her neck and thudded against her heart. She couldn’t breathe. Fear strangled her with a million memories. She couldn’t force one ounce of pent up air from her throat. Her lips formed the word, “No”, but her voice didn’t add any volume to it. She was trapped all over again.

  Michael groaned and released her arm with a forceful push. She nearly collapsed to the deck before catching herself against the cool wood of the lifeboat.

  “You’re making me out to be a monster and I’m not. I’ve made some big mist
akes, but I wanted to do right by you. I just couldn’t.”

  Her soul trembled with the rush of pain those memories revived. Time’s blessed distance cushioned the full potency of her father’s poisonous choices, but with Michael’s profession, she was back to cowering in the corner of her room…waiting.

  How had he overheard her father’s confession? Reality hit. Wait, he’d known since her father’s death? But that had been almost a year.

  “Wh…why did you stay with me all those months when you knew?”

  He looked at her then, her greatest fear ignited. The reflection of her past mirrored in his gaze. Shame flushed her skin with trembling heat and knifed into the marrow of her soul. His look, his disgust, confirmed all the doubts she’d ever felt. She would never marry now.

  He rubbed his chin and walked to the railing. “I couldn’t even put it into words at first, let alone confront you.” He shook his head and sighed, his voice softer, almost regretful. “Whether you believe it or not, Ashleigh. I did…I do care about you, but I needed you to trust me with your past secret, so I could trust you with mine about Annette. You never let me in. You just kept teaching Sunday School and nursing sick people as if nothing was wrong.”

  “One doesn’t usually discuss such things at dinner parties and church functions, Michael.”

  “And then the more I thought about it...” He lowered his gaze to the deck. His Adam’s apple blobbed from a swallow. “How could I be with you after knowing...?”

  His gaze slid down her body, adding pulse to the shame flaming through her. Her father’s betrayal burned through the fog of ten years and brought each hideous memory into perfect focus. Every lurid detail, every whisper in the dark collided like a paint-stain upon her soul. Her father had caught her again. Perhaps not in a closet in the library or the corner of her bedroom, but here, in broad daylight, his evil slithered up from the grave and stole more of her life. Not only her past, but her future too. She was drowning. Oh God, where are you?

  Bile swelled into her throat, mingling with tears, but she wouldn’t give in. No. Her father didn’t deserve it. She’d learned to fight eight years ago when she left a scar on her father’s cheek and earned her freedom from him. She would not back down to Michael’s threat. If she was drowning, she’d bring him with her. “And you blame me for this atrocity? Look at me!”