Holding on to Heaven (33 page)

Lauren's voice cracked. "We have another surprise, Father, but I swear it's nothing like the last."

Wanapaya stepped forward with Mataya and Storm.

"I'd like to introduce your son-in-law and your other grandchildren."

Her father extended an arm and bent down to meet his grandchildren. He rose and brought a hand to his chest. "It seems my family has multiplied four times over suddenly." He took a long sip of his drink. "If there are further introductions or additional news, let’s get it over with before my heart gives out."

Estelle offered a nervous chuckle, took his arm and ushered him toward the kitchen. "I think that will do for now, and our breakfast grows cold. Sit down and enjoy a hot cup of coffee—two shots of cream and three spoonfuls of sugar. Do I have that right, Drew?"

Her father's answer faded as he walked arm-in-arm with Estelle from the porch. Sage and Lauren exchanged smiles, gathered the remaining bystanders and followed them into the kitchen.

Lauren appreciated her short reprieve, but before this night was over, her father would demand answers. She couldn’t avoid a lengthy conversation with him in private, and nothing she told him would sit right with the man.

Now that Creed had followed through on his threat to expose their secret, she had no choice but to admit the truth. Brand remained her husband until they found his body or until he returned. Knowing her father's rigid stance on morality, she might as well toss herself into the river.

Aunt Estelle escorted her father to the guest room after they ate with little protest from the man. With any luck, he'd be too exhausted to launch into a long discussion tonight.

Sage sensed her sullen mood. "Let's take a walk."

A purple sky with streaks of periwinkle hung above them as they linked arms and walked to the stand of oaks.

"Did I just feel a shiver from you, Sage?"

"You're a perceptive twin if ever I saw one."

"You haven't known another twin, have you?"

They shared a smile before Sage answered. "No, I haven't."

"So tell me what's bothering you."

Sage shrugged and a slight crease puckered her brow. "I'm not sure. My intuition tells me everything will work out and yet..."

Lauren stopped and in the process brought Sage to a halt. "What is it?"

"I can't pin it down, a silly foreboding of unsettled loose ends.

An inner voice whispered in Lauren's ear, the one she'd heard over and over since returning several weeks ago. "So that's what I've been feeling?"

"Most likely." Sage chuckled.

"I've been waking from an elusive dream. My nightshift is soaked, my heart thundering."

"About the kidnapping?"

Lauren shook her head. "No, that's what's so strange."

"What are you dreaming about?"

Her voice held a trace of sardonic laughter. "What else, Creed, Brand and me."

"The loose ends."

"Maybe," Lauren said and changed the subject. "What do you think Father and Aunt Estelle would say if they knew we'd committed murder?"

"I think they'd know we didn't have a choice."

"I suppose you're right."

Sage looked into her eyes. "We didn't, you know."

"I know. Filled with so much rage about Mason and Estelle¯"

"Stop," Sage said, putting her hands on Lauren's shoulders. "That's behind us now, remember? We look to the future."

"We do have a bright future, don't we, Sage?"

"Of course we do. Would your one and only twin, the mirror image of your soul, lie to you?"

"No, but continue to remind me now and then, will you?"

Sage brought her hand up and touched her sister's face. "Of course I will." A long pause followed. "What will happen between you and Creed?"

"What can? Until I know what happened to Brand, I can't go to Creed."

"Hmm. I feel as if I know your husband, but of course, we've never met. Are they alike at all?"

"Oh, no," she said. "Not at all. Brand is a like a breath of fresh air, and I miss him when the sun goes down or a soft rain falls against my window. I shouldn't have consented to marry him. He deserves better than this."

"By
this
you mean your love for Creed?"

A long sigh escaped her. "Creed, the man who makes me feel I'm on the outside of his life looking in."

"He loves you, Lauren."

"At one time, I thought he'd never commit, aloof as he is, but he does love me, Sage, he does.” Lauren emitted a small chuckle. “When he enters a room my knees still turn to marmalade."

"What are you going to do?"

A measure of calm came over her. "Hold on to heaven, that's what I'm going to do. Aunt Estelle says when the whole world goes mad, we must keep holding on to heaven."

Sage rested her forehead on her twin's. Mind if hold on to that little piece of heaven with you?"

"I would expect nothing else from you, heart of my heart, soul of my soul."

"Good then," Sage said. "It's settled. Now let's go say hello to Uncle Mason."

"Don't forget about Adobe."

"Your horse is buried in the family plot?"

She nodded. "Aunt Estelle insisted the army bury him alongside her husband. Not even a regiment of troops dared argue with our aunt once she's made up her mind. Come, see the marker the foolish woman ordered from the granite maker."

"What does it say?"

"Run like the wind. Run like the wind."

* * * *

Epilogue

However your choice may chance to fall, you'll have no hand in it at all.

~ The Devil’s Dictionary ~

At sixty degrees, the ashen waters of the river stiffened his joints. The current fought against his every move. Beneath him, his legs and feet grew numb, and the murky sludge stung his eyes.

He sensed, but couldn't feel, slithering creatures in the cold depths. Drifting in and out, he clung to the log—his lifeline.

The buttons of his red, tattered shirt were gone, exposing his chest to the never-ending current crashing over him. In lucid moments, he focused on his sleeves and couldn't tell where shirt began and blood ended.

Vague memories of a battle in the woods surfaced. He crawled toward the river with an arrow embedded in his thigh. Dragging his ravaged body through the dense underbrush along the banks, he broke off the shaft near the skin. Pain had rendered him close to unconsciousness. The savages had searched the woods for him. He’d heard their frantic shouts, felt the vibrations of their moccasins pounding the forest floor.

The wound above his eyebrow throbbed. He touched it and looked at his fingers. The bleeding had stopped, but the gash felt long and deep. His right ankle dangled beneath him in the cold, black water—mangled or at least broken.

He didn’t recall much else—his name, his past, or the events that caused him to battle with the red man. The agony blocked out all reason to care.

Late summer had arrived. The green-tinged river and the cool temperature told him. How did he know that and not remember his name?

His mind drifted while he floated downstream, his upper body resting on top of the log. If he didn't stay awake, the rapid current would drag him under. He didn't know his location or where this ride would take him. He didn't care. All strength had vanished. He couldn't swim to shore if it rose three feet in front of him.
There must be an end to this watery grave. Where will it stop?

Caught up in a pile of branches and limbs from fallen trees, the log came to a halt at sunset. With a heave, his broken body landed on solid ground. He glanced down at his ankle and wished he hadn't. The bone burst through the skin.

The bright morning sun woke him and a horse whinnied.
God, let it be a white man.

Strong arms rolled him over, the soft voice a symphony to his ears. "Looks as if you could use some help, son."

He couldn't speak, not yet. Moans escaped his lips when the man lifted him from the ground and slung him across the horse. The sound of leather creaking came to him through a tunnel.

The man climbed into the saddle and pulled him across his muscular thighs. "I live about two miles from here. Hold on till we get there, you hear? We'll see about that head wound and broken ankle then."

The journey added to the white-hot pain shooting up his leg. He concentrated on remembering his name. Nothing.
Must be from the head wound.
No matter, he was still alive.

"Thanks, Mister," he said before blackness enveloped him.

The End

* * * *

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Keta Diablo lives in the Midwest part of the country on six acres of woodland. When she isn’t writing or gardening, she loves to commune with nature. Keta is a multi-published author in erotic romance and gay fiction.

In 2008, Keta’s historical novel,
Decadent Deceptions
, finaled in the RWA Molly contest. In 2009, Keta’s novella
Phoenix Rising
, finaled in the Scarlet Boa contest. Her latest paranormal novel,
Where the Rain Is Made
, has been nominated for a
Bookie Award
by Authors After Dark in the Best e-novel category and Best Romance of 2011 by Deep In The Heart of Romance. In addition, Keta’s books have received numerous Top Pick, Book of the Month, and Recommended Reads awards from the top professional review sites.

You can visit Keta on the net at the following places:

Keta’s Keep Romance blog:
http://ketaskeep.blogspot.com

Keta’s Haunt Author Home:
http://www.ketadiablo.com

Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/KetaDiablo.Author

Twitter: @ketadiablo

* * * *

Also Available on Kindle:

DARK NIGHT OF THE MOON

A paranormal wolf shapeshifter and

the sequel to
Holding On To Heaven

HERE ON KINDLE:
http://amzn.to/ADePKy

* * * *

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading
Holding On To Heaven
. If you enjoyed the book, I would appreciate your recommendation to your friends, readers' groups and discussion boards.

Tell readers why you like
Holding On To Heaven
by reviewing it at one of the following sites: Amazon Kindle, Barnes and Noble or Goodreads. If you do write a review, please send me an e-mail at [email protected].

Again, thank you so much. Your enjoyment of my books is the main reason I keep writing,

Best, Keta

* * * *

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Keta Diablo lives in the Midwest part of the country on six acres of woodland. When she isn’t writing or gardening she loves to commune with nature. Keta is a multi-published author in erotic romance and gay fiction.

In 2008, Keta’s historical novel,
Decadent Deceptions
, finaled in the RWA Molly contest. In 2009, Keta’s novella
Phoenix Rising
, finaled in the Scarlet Boa contest. Her latest paranormal novel,
Where the Rain Is Made
, has been nominated for a
Bookie Award
by Authors After Dark in the Best e-novel category and Best Romance of 2011 by Deep In The Heart of Romance. In addition, Keta’s books have received numerous Top Pick, Book of the Month, and Recommended Reads awards from the top professional review sites.

You can visit Keta on the net at the following places:

Keta’s Keep Romance blog:
http://ketaskeep.blogspot.com

Keta’s Haunt Author Home:
http://www.ketadiablo.com

Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/KetaDiablo.Author

Twitter: @ketadiablo

* * * *

Also Available on Kindle:

DARK NIGHT OF THE MOON

A paranormal wolf shape shifter and

the sequel to
Holding On To Heaven

HERE ON KINDLE:
http://amzn.to/ADePKy

* * * *

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading
Holding On To Heaven
. If you enjoyed the book, I would appreciate your recommendation to your friends, readers' groups and discussion boards.

Tell readers why you like
Holding On To Heaven
by reviewing it at one of the following sites: Amazon Kindle, Barnes and Noble or Goodreads. If you do write a review, please send me an e-mail at [email protected].

Again, thank you so much. Your enjoyment of my books is the main reason I keep writing,

Best, Keta

Table of Contents

http://amzn.to/vVqrLB