Heartstrings (49 page)

Lillian and Upton stared at the parrot.

The bird pecked at the door of his cage. “How do. I’m Oble Smott. You don’t put that kind of doll behind a glass case and stare at her.”

Upton nodded in sudden comprehension. “I take it John the Baptist has heard a great deal of the digressive discourse common to the people here.”

“What?” Theodosia whispered. “Oh. Yes. Yes, Upton, he has been in the company of many people given to oral meandering.”

“And did you enjoy your research concerning the patterns of southern speech, my dear?” Upton asked. “I assume you made a great many notes concerning the subject, and I must say that I am extraordinarily interested in seeing them. How I have missed our discussions, Theodosia.”

“I—”

“How did you come to possess such interest in the speech patterns of the people here?” Upton pressed. “You failed to mention your reasons in your letters. Lillian and I decided that perhaps your escort, Roman Montana, spoke in such a manner. Where is Mr. Montana, by the way?”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Upton,” Lillian chided. “You are barely giving our poor Theodosia time to think about one question before asking her another. Later you will have plenty of time to study her notes concerning digressive discourse. As for you, Theodosia, you look very tired. Your eyes are red as well.”

Theodosia was as yet unprepared to relate her story to Lillian and Upton. Her pain remained too raw, and she knew her tears would deeply upset them.

Soon, she thought. Very soon she would tell them about the child she’d conceived for them.

Bowing her head, she pretended to brush dust from the front of her gown. In actuality, however, she only wanted to feel the special place where the child dwelled. As her hand brushed past her lower abdomen, she swore she could feel Roman’s presence.

“Then don’t do anything, Theodosia,” John the Baptist said, splashing water. “Just be with me for a while.”

The parrot’s reminder of what Roman had once said to her forced Theodosia to blink back tears.

“Theodosia?” Lillian said. “Is something the matter?”

Quickly, Theodosia feigned a smile and reached out to caress Lillian’s cheek. “I may not look my best, Lillian, but you certainly do. You have finally put on some weight and look better than I have ever seen you.”

Lillian looked at her husband. “Shall we tell her, Upton?”

“Yes.” Upton put his arm around Lillian’s shoulder. “Theodosia, we have exciting tidings to share with you.”

Lillian laid Theodosia’s hand over her lower belly. “I am with child, darling, and am well past the first trimester. Indeed, I have almost reached my fifth month. All four physicians who have examined me believe that I will give birth to a healthy baby.”

The moment Lillian’s announcement registered in her mind, Theodosia felt as though the world had been turned upside down. Off balance both physically and mentally, she felt her legs weaken.

“Upton!” Lillian shouted.

He caught Theodosia just as she began to slip to the floor and helped her to the small wooden bench near the window. “Bring some water, Lillian,” he said, patting Theodosia’s alabaster cheek.

Lillian rushed to get the water. “Theodosia, forgive me,” she gushed. “But I had no idea that our news would give you such a shock. I’m profoundly sorry to have given it to you so suddenly.”

Theodosia watched Lillian’s lips move, but her sister’s voice sounded as if it were coming from a hundred miles away.

Lillian and Upton did not need the child she carried.

The realization tightened around her like a thick rope, at first choking her with disbelief, then suffocating her with overwhelming despair.

Escape, she thought desperately. She had to escape Lillian and Upton. The house. Her own stunned emotions.

She had to think. Alone. Outside. Yes, outside.

Oh, God, what was she going to do?

“Theodosia?” Upton murmured, holding the glass of water to her mouth. “Drink a bit, my dear.”

She did as bade and, with much effort, forced herself to appear in perfect control. “Your news has astonished me. I am thrilled for you. Truly thrilled. But I fear that my excitement has taken a toll on me, and I feel the need for—”

“Of course, Theodosia, darling,” Lillian blurted. “You must lie down and rest. After a nap, you will feel—”

“I would rather walk outside first, Lillian,” Theodosia protested. “After a bit of fresh air, I will rest.”

Lillian nodded. “I shall accompany you,” she said, then turned to cross the room and fetch her outerwear.

“Oh, no, you will not,” Upton said, catching his wife’s hand. “You will nap while Theodosia walks. Then when she returns to rest, you will have sufficient energy to fuss over her, which I know full well you will do. You must think of the baby, Lillian. Go along, Theodosia, but don’t venture far, and don’t tarry. It will soon be dark.”

Grateful for his intervention, she left quickly and, once outside, hurried away from the house. Following the road that led out of town, she passed the area where the country fair had been held. Only a few people remained there, disassembling booths and loading livestock back into wooden crates.

Paying little attention to her surroundings or where she was going, she continued down the soft dirt road, rounded a sharp curve, and soon came to an empty pasture. Masses of dead brush, clusters of large jagged rocks, and scraggly cedars scattered the deserted field. Near an old and dilapidated shed, a flock of sea gulls screamed and fought over a small dead animal.

Theodosia welcomed the ugliness of the landscape. Bending, she slipped between two fence rails and ram into the pasture.

She stopped beside a group of the craggy rocks and leaned into them. They pressed into her, and they hurt.

But not as much as her heart.

She thought of the child Lillian carried. The babe would be blessed with both parents and a warm and loving home.

She thought of Roman and the child they’d created together.

I want my baby, Theodosia!

His words screamed through her.

“How can I do this to you, Roman?” she asked his memory. “You do not love me, but you want to love your child. How can I possibly take that chance away from you?”

But how could she give up the child? The precious babe was all she had left of Roman, and she loved the tiny being every bit as much as she loved its father.

She shivered suddenly as the cool evening breeze strengthened into a strong wind. Dusk became darker as black clouds gathered in the rolling sky above. The wind picked up her hair and sent it lashing at her face.

Fear of the impending storm told her to flee. Misery forced her to her knees.

“Roman,” she whispered. She closed her eyes. Raindrops mingled with her tears. Soundless sobs shook her frame.

But she stilled instantly when she felt a large hand curl around her shoulder and strong fingers dig into her flesh.

She opened her eyes. Two men stared down at her, both smiling grins she’d seen before.

They wore rat hats.

Fear licked at her like a serpent’s tongue.

“It’s a small, small world, ain’t it Gordie?” Burris Jister said.

Gordie chuckled. “Yeah, Burris, real small.” He reached down and fingered a damp gold curl.

“Nice to see you again, purty lady. Saw you walkin’ down the road a while ago and thought we’d foller you.”

The country fair outside town, Theodosia thought hysterically. She’d walked straight past it!

“Why didn’t you come to the fair, purty lady?” Gordie asked, still holding a lock of gold hair. “It’s over now.”

Burris nodded. “Too bad y’didn’t come. We made us a bundle. Thought y’ruined us forever that day in Kidder Pass, huh? Yeah, well, it took us a long time, but we got our games runnin’ again.”

Theodosia screamed when Gordie yanked her to her feet.

He slapped her full across the face. “The day the sheriff and deputy of Kidder Pass took us away, we told you we wouldn’t forget what you done, lady.”

Burris jerked her away from his brother and leered into her eyes. “We told you that somewhere, someday we’d meet up again, and that day’s here. And since that long-haired bodyguard o’ yours ain’t with you no more, there ain’t nobody to stop us from makin’ you pay for what you done to us.”

Revenge.
The Jisters wanted revenge. Comprehension exploded into Theodosia’s mind, just as lightning and thunder crashed through the black sky.

With a strength she never realized she had, she tore free of Burris’s hold and, blinded by rain and tears, raced toward a rickety lean-to she’d seen earlier. As she ran, she heard the Jisters’ heavy footsteps behind her, swore she felt their hot breaths on her neck, and remembered the day she’d tried to flee from the Blanco y Negro Gang.

Today was the same. Rain battered down on her.

Thunder shook through her. Evil chased her, and lightning flamed above her.

The only difference was that there was no enchanted hill upon which to wish for Roman.

In the next moment a scream rent the air. Seething with fear, grief, and defeat, the cry had no end but tore from her throat on an unbroken stream of misery.

And then without warning, gunfire silenced her.

The heavy footsteps behind her faded and finally disappeared. She no longer felt hot breath on her neck.

The evil chased her no more.

She stopped, thoroughly bewildered, when she saw the Jisters running out of the rain-swept field as if haunted by a thousand demons.

She caught sight of him then. Sheets of rain tried to veil him from her view, but she knew who he was.

He was mounted, and his gray stallion stood pawing the mud. His long raven hair blew all around him, like a black halo.

He was far away, across the pasture, but she felt his startling blue gaze slice across the field and pierce her very soul.

Roman.

She tried to speak his name, but the sinister fire of lightning felt so near. Inches from her head. She could feel its heat, its powerful danger, and she felt sure that it was daring her to move so it could strike.

Terror plunged into her. She felt it slash through her like so many daggers plummeting from the malevolent sky.

The shelter of the shed was behind her, only a few feet away.

Roman was on the other side of the sodden field.

Her mind pulled her toward the safety of the shed.

But her heart tugged her forward.

Defying the lightning, she flew across the pasture.

Roman met her halfway, and as his stallion bore down upon her, he leaned down from the saddle and lifted her into his arms. Holding her securely to his chest, he stopped Secret in the middle of the field.

Theodosia raised her face to the man she loved more with each beat of her pulse. For a long while she could only stare at him, blending the real sight of him with the indelible image she had of him in her mind. The lightning behind him flashed, but the glitter in his eyes flamed far more brightly.

“I believe,” she began softly, watching rain course down his face, “that I have overcome my fear of lightning.”

He slid his hand over her belly, over his child.

His action reminded her of what he wanted from her. Her joy came apart and fell away, like a broken string of pearls. “You came to Templeton,” she murmured, rain splashing her lips, “to tell me again that you want the child.”

He gave a long, slow nod, and continued staring into her eyes. “And to see Senor Madrigal.”

“Senor Madrigal.” She tried to nod, but felt paralyzed. “To buy your ranch. You—you’ll raise the child on your ranch. With all your horses.”

He frowned, then raised his wet brow. “Then you’ve changed your mind about giving my baby to your sister?”

She wanted him to release her so she could run again. Being so close to him while knowing he cared only for their child tormented her.

But if she ran, she would take the child with her. She realized now she could not do such a thing to Roman. She loved him, and no sacrifice she could think of was too great to make for him.

“I am not giving the baby to my sister,” she answered, her chest tight with pain. “I am giving the child to you. And then…” She paused and turned her face into his shoulder. “Then I will sail for Brazil.”

Roman raised her higher, so her eyes were level with his. “And I’ll go with you.”

She stiffened. With shock and confusion. “You’ll go with—”

“I won’t raise my child on a ranch. I’ll raise him or her in Brazil. With monkeys instead of horses.”

Her confusion deepened. “But I just said I would give you—”

“I came to Templeton to tell Senor Madrigal that I no longer want to buy the land. I’ll get all my money back from him.”

She struggled in vain for a shred of understanding. “You’re—you’re giving up your ranch?” she asked incredulously. “But you’ve been working for it for ten years! Why would you give it up?”