Loving Linsey (31 page)

“Herself. She's wrong. And if we start encouraging these foolish notions of hers, we could wind up losing her. Is that what you want?”

“Of course not. But what if she isn't wrong? What if four-leaf clovers really do bring good
luck, and looking into mirrors really are a foreshadowing of death?”

He refused to believe it. They were the ridiculous concoctions of people like Linsey who wanted to control the uncontrollable.

“Daniel, you might be willing to take that chance, but I'm not.”

“What are you saying? That you're giving up? I thought we agreed this is the best thing we can do for her.”

“My sister has never asked me for anything in her life, Daniel. She has taken care of me selflessly and without hesitation since I was dumped on her doorstep fifteen years ago, and now is my chance to do something in return. What would it hurt if we pretended to fall in love? What if we did go along with the ruse of getting married?”

Daniel shook his head. “We'd both be miserable, Addie. We can't pretend something we don't feel.”

“Hear me out, please. It would just be until the first of the year. If Linsey is wrong and she doesn't die by December thirty-first, then my death-bed promise will be invalid. We will both be free to pursue other . . . interests. Everyone wins, and no one gets hurt.”

“And if she isn't wrong? If she actually wills herself to die?”

There was a long, pregnant pause before Addie finally spoke. “Then I would make you a good wife, Daniel; I swear it. And as my husband, you'd have the Gordon money at your disposal. You could go to that university if you wanted—”

“You're willing to buy a husband to accommodate your sister?”

“I'm willing to buy my sister's last wish for her peace of mind. To me, that's worth any price.”

“Even Oren?”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “If that's what it takes, yes.”

He hated that he was even considering such an extreme. He didn't want a wife. But neither could he bear causing Linsey so much pain, either.

He missed her smiles. He missed her snappy wit. He missed the way she tossed her head in defiance. Hell, he even missed that sparkle of mischief in her eyes.

But was he willing to give up his precious freedom to get it back?

It took him only a second to decide.

“No, Addie; I can't. She's wrong. I feel it in my bones. And whether you help me or not, I'm going to prove it—no matter what it takes.”

Jenny Kimmel's wedding day dawned as beautiful as a wedding day could be. Jenny looked pretty as a picture in her white-lace gown. Her brunette hair was pulled atop her head in an intricate knot with fat sausage curls cascading down, and a wreath of silk roses at her crown.

Everywhere Linsey looked, there were roses: in their hair, attached to the pews, in their bouquets . . . The children had even decorated Jenny's wheelchair with satin ribbons and crepe roses.

Organ music drifted through the thin walls of the cloakroom at the front of the church. Biding her time for the cue that would begin Jenny's journey down the aisle, Linsey asked her friend, “Do we have everything?”

“Let's see; something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, a sprig of ivy in my shoe. Yes, I think we have it all.”

A pregnant pause in the music finally signaled the start of the ceremony.

Jenny smiled. “This is it—the day I've been waiting for my whole life!”

Linsey grasped her hands and kissed her cheek. “Be happy, Jen, always.”

As Noah's girls raced to take their positions in front of Jenny's chair, to be pushed by John Brewster, Linsey turned to whisper to her sister, “Soon this will be you, Addie.”

Addie didn't look at her; instead, she averted her face.

A numbing sense of unease prickled at the surface of Linsey's skin. She had no time to question Addie, though, for the “Wedding March” had begun.

Amy and Amanda, adorable in blue-and-white pinafores and crowns of silk roses, led the procession. Addie went next, with Linsey following behind. The church was full to bursting, two whole rows taken up by all eighteen of Noah and Jenny's children, the rest occupied by the citizens of Horseshoe.

Even though none would miss the wedding of the year, Linsey still wasn't prepared to see Daniel. He sat with his father in the third pew
from the front. As Linsey passed by, she met his flat and brooding gaze.

Her heart lurched.

Amazingly, she made it to the front without stumbling. She listened to the service with her eyes closed, clinging to every word Reverend Simon recited.

She imagined herself standing at the altar, wearing the brooch Aunt Louisa's mother had passed down to her, a spanking new veil Hazel Mittermier had sewn of the finest Chantilly lace, Addie's favorite lace gloves, and blue ribbons woven into her hair.

And Daniel would be standing beside her, gazing down, wearing that lazy dimpled smile she so adored. . . .

Oh, why had she ever run from Mrs. Harvey? If she had simply given in and listened to the woman brag about her son, she wouldn't have looked into the mirror. At least then, this weight in her chest wouldn't exist. This sore, churning, heavy aloneness. This irrational fear that she was losing two of the people she loved most—to each other.

The soft clapping of hands pulled Linsey's notice to Noah and Jenny, who looked into one another's eyes, their love plain and powerful.

She inhaled deeply and smiled over the tears beginning to burn behind her lids. Hopefully the guests would think her weepy over her friend's happiness. In truth, she was, though another part of her ached for herself. These were the things she'd miss out on: the loving squeeze of a man's hand around hers,
the proud glitter in his eyes, the arrogance in his voice as he vowed to love and honor her till death did they part.

She'd never have that. And unless fate dealt her some mercy, neither would her sister.

Linsey didn't know how she managed to get through the ceremony without bawling like a baby, but before she realized it, Noah was kissing the newly pronounced Jenny Tabor. Applause rose from those in the pews, and many hurried to the front doors, where Noah pushed Jenny through the shower of rice being rained down upon them.

Their spirits light and gay, the guests began to stroll toward the Horseshoe Hotel, where the reception was being held.

Linsey allowed herself to be pulled along with the tide of the crowd. In front of the millinery, someone tugged on her arm. She paused, glanced over her shoulder, and discovered Robert Jarvis behind her.

“I . . . uh . . . just wanted to thank ya for the new balloon. It came in on yesterday's train.”

“It did?”

“It surely did, and with enough hah-drogin to carry me across the Atlantic Ocean.” Gruffly, he added, “You didn't have to do that, Linsey.”

“Yes, I did. I never should have stolen the first one.”

“I won't argue that, but I'm grateful for the second chance. I'll be leaving at first light, long as the wind holds up.”

“Well,” she managed a heartfelt smile, “I'm
sure they will cradle you gently.” Impulsively, she reached into the reticule dangling from her wrist and withdrew a rusty nail. “Just in case, take this with you for luck.”

With a curious look he took the nail, then gave her a smile and dropped it into his vest pocket.

At least she'd made someone happy, she thought, following him into the hotel.

Inside, banquet tables had been set up along the perimeter of the dining room, leaving a large space for dancing. A quartet of county musicians sat upon a raised platform, tuning their instruments.

Then the strains of the violin began to play, and the room went silent.

Linsey listened spellbound as Noah sang a love song to Jenny that brought a tear to every eye in the house. While the violinist continued the ballad, he picked her up out of the chair and into his arms, and danced with her in a way that only lovers danced.

The scene was so touching that it brought an ache to Linsey's heart. She saw Caroline with Axel and their new baby girl; Mayor and Mrs. Harvey.

Everyone in love. Everyone with so much happiness ahead of them. . . .

Overwhelmed by an unbearable sense of loss and self-pity, Linsey headed for the door. The musicians struck up a lively number that had folks dancing like cats on a hot tin roof, but she couldn't dredge up their spirit. She knew if she didn't escape now, she'd shatter.

She didn't get two steps out the door before she bumped into someone coming down the boardwalk.

“Well, now if it isn't sweet Linsey-woolsey Gordon, out for a moonlit stroll.”

With music pounding in his skull, Daniel drained the shot of whiskey someone had shoved into his hand. He'd known he shouldn't have attended that damn wedding. Seeing Linsey walking up that aisle, looking like heaven, had put notions in his head that had no right being there.

Well, he'd done his duty, made the social appearance required of him. There was nothing keeping him here. If anyone needed him—and from the amount of spirits flowing, someone would eventually—they could find him at the apothecary.

Adjusting his hat, then buttoning his coattails, Daniel pushed away from the bar and wove his way through the crowd and out the door. Halfway down the boardwalk, an out-of-place sound made the back of his neck prickle.

He went still, glanced around the shadows, and strained to hear.

There it was again: a muffled whimper.

And then he saw her, trapped in the arms of Bishop Harvey. The son-of-a-bitch had her pinned to the hotel wall, his face against her neck, his hand on her breast.

Rage unlike anything Daniel had ever felt pumped through his veins and blurred his
vision. He clamped a hand onto Harvey's scrawny shoulder and spun him around. “Get your goddamn hands off her, Harvey!”

Bishop released his hold on Linsey and stumbled backward. Bleary eyes struggled to focus on Daniel. “Jump off a bridge, Doc.” He lunged for Linsey again.

Daniel didn't give him the chance to get close. His fist flew, catching Harvey in the jaw. The impact lifted him off the ground and sent him flying backward. He landed with an audible thud.

Two solid steps closed the distance between Daniel and the mayor's spawn. Daniel jabbed a finger into his face. “You ever touch her again, you so much as
look
at her again, and I'll string your innards from here to Houston and back.”

Those were the last words Harvey heard before his eyes rolled back in his head.

His chest heaving, Daniel raised his head. Linsey was staring at him, one hand to her bosom, the other over her mouth. Their gazes locked. He saw the shock in her eyes. The relief. And something more powerful.

Pride.

The emotion shook him more deeply than he imagined. He wanted to yank her to him, hold her, keep her safe from all the world's evils. He wanted to shove her from him, curse at her to keep her distance, to let him live in the isolated world he'd created for himself.

He did neither.

He spun on his heel and left.

For several long moments, Linsey stood alone in the darkened alley, trying to understand what had just taken place. One moment, Bishop had her up against the wall, pawing at her, muttering disgusting things against her neck—the next moment, Daniel was there, coming to her rescue.

He'd punched out Bishop Harvey.

Why? Why had he done such a rash, reckless, wonderful thing?

Her feet began moving of their own will, carrying her in the direction Daniel had taken, and before she knew it, she was racing after him.

“Daniel!”

He kept walking, his feet pounding down the deserted boardwalk.

“Daniel, wait!”

He came to a stop just outside the circle of lamplight, but didn't turn around.

When Linsey finally caught up to him, the emotion she saw in his eyes stunned her: a possessiveness that both thrilled and frightened her. “Why did you do that, Daniel? Why did you hit him?”

“He was touching you.”

Simple words, simply said. And they told her nothing.

“Why should that matter to you? You've made it perfectly clear that you'd rather walk barefoot on broken glass than do anything for me. Why would you defend me against the likes of Bishop Harvey?”

He took a step forward. She shrank back, alarmed by the burning fury in his eyes.

“You want to know, Linsey? Do you really want to know?”

She had no chance to respond before he grabbed her by the arms and gave her a shake.

“Because I love you, damn it!”

A waxing moon is reported to have magical powers and influence blood flow.

T
he declaration rocked through the air, an explosion of forbidden words and pent-up emotion.

Releasing Linsey as if he'd been stung, Daniel stepped back and shoved a hand through his hair. “Hell, I can't believe I said that.”

She stared at him, flabbergasted. “You love me?”

He almost denied it. What stopped him, he didn't know—maybe because he knew deep down that there had been too many deceptions already. “God knows I never wanted to,” Daniel said, choking on a mirthless laugh. “I don't even know how it happened—let's just forget I ever said it.”

“I wish I could.”

The sharpness of her tone took him by surprise. Her cheeks were pale in the lamplight; her eyes glittered with fury.

“You are supposed to be marring my sister,
and you tell me you love me? You are the most selfish, childish . . . cruel man! How dare you do this!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Addie has loved you faithfully for ten years, and you are so consumed with yourself and your desires that you won't even give her a chance.”

His mouth fell open. “You call
me
selfish? You're so consumed with controlling the lives of everything and everyone around you that you don't bother listening to see if it's what they want! How do you know I'm the man your sister wants to spend her life with?”