The Lady Who Saw Too Much (29 page)

His brows rose above humor-filled eyes. “There is more?”

He tilted his head at her solemn nod as she summoned her courage. “My brothers…” She’d never spoken of it aloud; she’d barely let herself think of it. The pain and guilt hurt too much. The fear of confessing the horrible truth right now—to the man she loved—of risking any hope for their future, threatened to swallow her whole. She stared into his handsome face through her teary eyes. “The accident was my fault.”

He winced, narrowing his eyes.

“We were in town and heading home. I’d arranged to meet someone that night. A beau,” she said. “And I was late. It was my idea to cross the frozen pond to make better time. I insisted. It was my birthday, you see, and they had to oblige.” She lowered her head. “My brothers died because of me. Because of my selfishness.”

“Oh, Gia.” He shook his head, looking stricken. “It was an accident. A terrible accident. And you are anything but selfish. You proved that to me a dozen times over. In a dozen different ways.”

She wiped at her eyes.

“We’ve all done things we regret. Things we’d give anything to undo. But we have to forgive ourselves and move onward.” He shrugged. “Because that’s all we can do.”

Landen’s sorrow for his part in Kit’s plight shined in his eyes. Gia swallowed hard, absorbing his comforting words.

“No one knows why things happen as they do,” he said. “But we must trust that there’s a reason.” He lifted her chin. “Trust is everything.”

He smiled at the use of her own words to him, and in that moment, she loved him more.

“You survived that accident for a reason,” he said. “And whatever that reason, it brought you to me.”

“A vision brought me to you,” she reminded him. “You are married to a woman who has visions. Unexplainable, inconvenient visions that can strike any time.”

“Life with you will never be dull.” He smiled again. “And I’d have it no other way. Your visions—this gift—is a part of you. A part of the compassionate, beautiful, enticingly sensual woman that makes you who you are.” His voice quaked with emotion as he squeezed her hand between his. “And I love all of you.”

She smiled through her blinding tears. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt loved. But she felt his love now as clearly as she felt the firm hold on her hand. Her heart swelled to overflowing. “I love you too.”

He smiled, looking relieved. “I did not make it easy.”

She laughed. “No, you didn’t, my darling.” She pressed a kiss to his lips. “But then again, neither did I.”

Two weeks later

Gia nestled closer to Landen in the wagon as they rode through the field. The sun hung low in the cloudless sky, but the brisk nip in the air reminded her that summer was over. Shades of yellow and orange tinged the leaves of the trees along their route. The summer residents had returned to their homes in the city, leaving a peaceful quietness in their wake.

With Landen’s blessing, Ben had escorted Alice and Clara back to Troy. The young couple would continue their courtship, and Gia couldn’t be happier for them. Even Landen had defended the young man to Aunt Clara, who wasn’t quite so in favor of the idea.

Alex had left immediately after that horrible day at the creek to inform Sissy of Kit’s death. Hearing the details had been difficult, but according to the letter they’d received from Alex yesterday, Sissy was doing her best to manage her grief, and Alex was doing his best to console her. As expected, Sissy had been stunned by Kit’s crimes. But he’d brought Alex and Sissy together, and for that, the couple would always be grateful.

Gia had much to be grateful for as well. She loved Landen and her new family to pieces. And they loved her in return. Her mind drifted to her parents. Perhaps, someday, she might reunite with them. She’d forgiven them, as she’d forgiven herself, for what happened in Boston. But their lack of effort to find her made clear they’d found peace in letting her go.

Pushing the sad thought from her mind, she nestled closer to Landen. They’d decided to spend a few extra weeks in Misty Lake and were using the privacy of the house to celebrate their belated honeymoon. Although Gia missed the rest of the family, she welcomed the serenity of being alone with Landen and had enjoyed the past week immensely.

She’d had only one single vision since the ordeal. She smiled, touching her stomach. She looked forward to telling Landen about that wonderful vision tonight.

Landen stopped the wagon at his favorite spot on the hill overlooking Misty Lake, and Gia helped him down from the wagon. His ankle was healing nicely, but it would take some time before he could walk unassisted.

They stood, gazing out over the sparkling lake and the sun setting behind the mountains in the distance. Once again, the lovely view felt hauntingly familiar. Landen had taken her here before, on the day he told her there’d been no one but her since the first time he’d kissed her.

Landen took her hand in his. She stared down at their interlaced fingers and something sparked in her memory. She’d lived this moment before.

“It wasn’t a dream,” she uttered, warmth spreading inside her. She glanced up into Landen’s question-filled eyes. “This place. You.” She glanced down at their hands. “It wasn’t a dream.”

A slow smile curled his lips as her words registered. “It was a vision.”

She nodded. “A wonderful vision that foretold I would stand here one day, overlooking a lake and feeling so happy.”

He clasped her hand tightly, blue eyes shimmering as he spoke. “With a man who truly loves you—and leans on a cane.”

THE END

A three-time RWA Golden Heart® nominee,
Thomasine Rappold
writes historical romance and historical romance with paranormal elements. She lives with her husband in the small town in upstate New York that inspired her current series. When she’s not spinning tales of passion and angst, she enjoys spending time with her family, fishing on one of the nearby lakes, and basking on the beach in Cape Cod. Thomasine is a member of Romance Writers of America and the Capital Region Romance Writers. Readers can find her on Facebook and follow her on Twitter: @ThomRappold.

Keep reading for an excerpt from the first book in the Sole Survivor series

Madeline Sutter was once the belle of the ball at the popular resort town of Misty Lake, New York. But as the sole survivor of the community’s worst tragedy, she’s come under suspicion. Longing for the life she once enjoyed, she accepts a rare social invitation to the event of the season. Now she will be able to show everyone she’s the same woman they’d always admired—with just one hidden exception: she awo
ke from the accident with the ability to heal.

Doctor Jace Merrick has fled the failures and futility of city life to start anew in rural Misty Lake. A man of science, he rejects the superstitious chatter surrounding Maddie and finds himself drawn to her confidence and beauty. And when she seduces him into a sham engagement, he agrees to be her ticket back into society, if she supports his new practice—and reveals the details of her remarkable recovery. But when his patients begin to heal miraculously, Jace may have to abandon logic, accept the inexplicable—and surrender to a love beyond reason…

A Lyrical e-book on sale now.

Learn more about Thomasine at
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/31713

Misty Lake, New York, 1882

Everyone wished she had died with the others. Maddie Sutter had accepted this truth long ago. But much to the small town’s dismay, she insisted on living and breathing despite it.

Straightening her shoulders, she lifted her chin against the barrage of eyes watching her every move as she forged down Main Street. After three years of suffering this unwelcome attention each time she ventured to town, one would think she’d have grown used to the assault.

Maddie had resigned herself to many things since the accident, but she’d never adapt to the dread her presence induced in those she had known all her life—those who had once loved and cared for her.

With a fortifying breath, she approached a cluster of young boys on the corner. The same wretched imps had greeted her earlier when they’d spied her arrival in downtown Misty Lake. She braced herself for a repeat performance of the cruel rhyme they’d composed in her honor.

“Four dead girls on the slab, on the twelfth day of May. On Friday the thirteenth, one girl walked away.
”

Refusing to alter her course, Maddie strode straight toward them. Her lungs swelled with triumph as the alarmed little brats scattered like mice. With another fractional lift of her chin, she swept onward and rounded the corner.

She entered the general mercantile, the jingling bell on the door her only greeting as she stepped inside. Along with a handful of patrons, the store housed a hodgepodge of scents. Aromas of charcoal and beeswax mingled with the sweet smell of cinnamon and apples. Renewed by the boon to her senses, she enjoyed the whiff of fond memories that came with it. She shopped quickly, spurred on by the hushed whispers echoing through the aisles as she browsed the shelves.

Gathering a bag of sugar, a tin of baking powder, and the other items on her list, she headed to the front of the store, then placed them on the polished counter.

“Good morning, Mr. Piedmont,” she said with a smile.

He wiped his hands on his bibbed apron and took a step forward.

“Madeline.”

With a curt nod, he lowered his somber eyes to the items on the counter and began to tally her purchases.

Maddie’s smile faded, her mind drifting back to the days when Mr. Piedmont’s face would light up to see her and her friends bounding into the mercantile. The Fair Five, as they were known back then, had charmed everyone. The girls had hardly put away their pinafores when they first learned to use their collective wit and beauty to full advantage. The Five always left Mr. Piedmont’s store lapping at complimentary peppermint sticks, pressed upon them by the kindly merchant with a playful wink.

Maddie took a deep breath, forcing away thoughts of the past and the accident that had snatched her friends from this world. At twenty-four-years old, Maddie was a living reminder and the sole survivor of the worst tragedy in Misty Lake’s history. People could barely stand to look at her. And Maddie couldn’t blame them. She could barely stand to look at herself.

Mr. Piedmont worked swiftly, the sound of crumpling paper filling the awkward silence as he wrapped her purchases and bound the tidy parcel with string. By rote, his freckled hand reached to the nearby jar of candy. Placing a single peppermint stick on top of the bundle, he slid it toward her, then turned to face the shelves lining the wall behind him.

Tears blurred Maddie’s vision as she stared down at the red-striped treat, the simple reminder of who she once was—who she still was, if only one of her neighbors could manage to look her in the eye long enough to see it. She swallowed hard.

“Thank you,” she murmured to the shopkeeper’s back before he walked away.

Maddie left the store and proceeded to her final errand. As she’d anticipated, a letter from Amelia awaited her at the post office. Maddie would wait until later to open it. Their recent correspondence had rattled her to the bone, and she knew any public display of emotion would be ripe fruit for hungry local gossips.

Not that maintaining decorum could help her cause now. People already believed the worst about her. These rare trips to town only served to remind her that nothing had changed.

Shoving the letter into her skirt pocket, she headed south on Main Street. To her relief, the band of young hooligans that had taunted her earlier was nowhere to be seen. She hurried out of town nonetheless. Each dreaded trip was a tax on her nerves, and when added to the anxiety of what awaited in Amelia’s letter, Maddie yearned for the comfort of home.

When she reached the outskirts of town, she took the path through the woods that opened to a large field. She welcomed the sound of chirping crickets and birds. As always after she exerted herself with a lengthy walk, her leg was beginning to ache. She slowed her pace, then stopped to rest at her favorite spot on her grandfather’s sprawling property. Sitting on a felled birch log in the broad clearing, she stretched out her leg. The cramped muscles unfurled as she enjoyed the serenity of the surrounding forest, the gentle spring breeze through the swaying trees. The sun felt heavenly, and she lifted her face to bask in its glow.

She’d avoided town all winter, hibernating like a bear in a cave. She’d emerged from seclusion renewed by foolish hopes, but the first outing of the new season had been just like the last. A bear would be better received.

Maddie sighed in defeat, dug out the letter that was fairly vibrating in her pocket, and unfolded its pages. The bold strokes on the delicate cream sheets conveyed Amelia’s confident tone and dramatic style.