11th Hour Rose (12 page)

Nothing. Completely alone.

Weak with relief, she turned to continue home.

A wraithlike shadow grazed the corner of her vision. Senses heightened, she sucked a deep breath into her lungs and let loose a shrill scream.

“You little bitch,” a man’s deep voice grumbled as vice-like arms wound around her.

“Help!” Lilly shrieked once more, wrestling the powerful hold with everything she had. She swung her leg back, making sharp contact with her attackers shin.

He grunted but refused to relinquish her.

“Hel—” Her desperate cry was squelched by a sour smelling rag clasped over her mouth and nose. She strained against the man’s brutal grasp, but without air her struggles proved more futile by the second. Blackness billowed around her vision, closing in on her as sights and sounds became disjointed. Fleetingly David flashed through her mind. Would he ever know her last thoughts were of him? Regret and despair pooled as rapidly as the darkness within her. She’d never told him she loved him. Now she would never have the chance.

*              *              *

“Please, God, no. Not Lilly.”

David plunged through the twilight. Blood pounded in his ears, and his gut twisted miserably. Never in his life had he felt more powerless. Four women, four broken battered bodies, and now Lilly? He’d done everything in his power to keep her safe. He never should have left her earlier. He should have stayed at the jail.

The brick skeleton of the munitions plant loomed on the dim horizon. As he approached, a horde of near riotous citizens had become a living fire breathing beast of its own. Horse’s hooves clattered as a wagon rattled to a halt at the back of the crowd. Several lanterns waved, casting erratic paths of light in the darkness, and hysterical shouts rose up over the din.

He had to see her, discern once and for all what cruel joke the Lord saw fit to play on him. “Let me pass!” He shoved through the crush, using his formidable size to his advantage.

              “It’s Marshal Langston!”

              “Marshal, what are you doing about this serial murderer?”

              Ignoring the cries, Davy plowed desperately through the throng.  He towered over most of the crowd and spied a shock of pale tresses spilling over the hard packed dirt long before the whole of the scene became clear. The hair gleamed like apple butter and red-tinged corn silk in the lantern light.

“Lilly,” he choked out, breaking past the last ranks of onlookers. “Oh, God, no.” He staggered to a halt, breathing ragged as her still form materialized before him. He crashed to his knees, swallowed by despair. Mere hours ago he’d held her willing and fiery in his arms. The memory of her mouth still burned against his lips. And now… now she lay lifeless, sprawled in an alley, taken from him forever.

Blood rushed in his ears, lending the entire situation a surreal sense. All around him men rushed about, barking orders—he could discern none of them. Davy’s brother, Craig, knelt at her head. Moving her.

Something within David snapped. “Leave her, Craig. Don’t touch her.” Davy staggered back to his feet, stumbling through the dreamlike haze toward Lilly’s side. Miserable black rage welled up within him, taking hold of his soul.

The face of Marcus Brady materialized a few feet away. “You son of a bitch,” Davy growled, lunging at the other man. “You did this to her. I’ll kill you! So help me God I’ll march you to Hell myself for hurting her!”

Marcus stumbled backward, his face ashen as David drove through the onlookers toward him.

“Davy!” Craig’s voice bounced off the haze surrounding his mind. “Davy, wait!”

Wait? Like Hell. Vengeance waited for no man.
Deep in his gut—his heart—he
knew
Brady was the killer. He was going to throttle him for it. Marcus’s bum leg landed in a pothole and he tripped, falling heavily to the unforgiving ground. Davy closed in on him, wrapping big hands around the other man’s neck.

“Langston,” Brady gasped, eyes wide and nostrils flared with panic.

Davy ignored his pathetic plea, closing his palms and beginning to squeeze Brady’s flimsy neck.

“A little help, Curtis.” Again Craig’s voice pounded at the red-hot haze surrounding David’s mind.

A set of burly arms, which could only belong to his bear of a brother Curtis, seized him, dragging him away from Marcus. Brady stumbled to his feet, gasping for air. “Crazy bastard!”

“He killed her.” Davy fought against the bear hold Curtis held on him. “He killed Lilly!”

“Davy,” Curtis shouted. “Davy, she’s not dead!”

It took a moment for the words to set in as he sagged to the ground.
She’s not dead?
Well, she sure as hell looked
dead, was still as death. Turning, he became cognizant of Craig kneeling beside Lilly’s unmoving figure, assessing what injuries he could.

“Lilly.” Davy scrambled back to her side lifting her hand, so limp and frail it broke his heart. “Come on, Lil, you’re stronger than this, fight.” His gaze took in the pale of her skin and the scrapes marring her smooth forehead. A circular bruise like that of a hand print encompassed her right wrist, and she was so still.

“We need to get her to my office.” Craig’s eyes lifted and locked on his. “I can’t properly examine her in the dark with this damn crowd hovering.”

Gently Davy slid his arms beneath her, cradling her against his chest. For the first time he realized just how tiny she was. She always exuded such an air of confidence and capability. He’d never considered her in any way fragile until this very moment. He kissed her brow, suppressing the crushing pain squeezing his chest. No words could describe the misery encompassing him because he should have been there to protect her, prevent this, but he had failed yet again. Why could he not keep harm from finding his women?

“Davy?” his name slipped from her lips, the word barely audible.

“I’m here, love.” Hope and relief flooded him as he curled her more securely in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I was going home… Only home.”

“Shh… Lilly, it’s fine.”

“I love you,” she murmured.

Davy’s heart clinched with surprise, but it was not an unpleasant surprise. No, the words were rather… welcome. Like a warm salve pouring over his heart. “I—” He didn’t know what to say.
Love?
His head had courted the issue ever since she’d mentioned it at the jailhouse.
Love
… that magical—forbidden—word trickled down from his heart, into his veins, and resonated in his bones. “Lilly…” He glanced down, mind grappling for the right response, but one wasn’t necessary. Her head lulled back and her eyes closed as she lost consciousness once more.

“Lilly?” He repeated more forcefully.

No response.

With baited breath he leaned close, assuring himself of the gentle rush of her breathing. He hefted her up, holding her as though to ensure she did not slip away.

Craig led the way to his physician’s office and then around to the back door of his clinic. He jogged up the short wooden staircase. “Marissa should already be here. I sent her ahead to prepare when I was called to the attack.” He held the door open and Davy carried Lilly into the examination room. Curtis followed close behind.

Several lamps glowed within the tidy room. Fresh folded linen lined a row of shelves, porcelain basins of varying size sat atop a wooden table, and a locked glass cabinet housed an eclectic array of bottles and medicines.

“Lay her on the table,” Craig instructed, shutting the office door. “Gently.”

“Craig, is that you?” Marissa Langston, Craig’s wife entered from the inner door, the length of her blonde hair pulled efficiently back, an apron tied neatly about her waist.

“Marissa, Miss Hudson has been attacked.” Craig shucked his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. “We will need to examine her injuries immediately.”

“Everything is ready,” Marissa replied, bustling to the side table organized with medical supplies. She opened Craig’s black leather bag.

Davy shifted his attention back to Lilly and laid her gently onto the examination table. He smoothed a hand over her forehead, fervently wishing she’d open her eyes again.

She moaned, but nothing more.

“I found this lying beside her.” Curtis waved a yellowed rag and handed it to Craig.

Craig turned the rag over in his palm. “Probably laced with chloroform or ether.”

Marissa shuddered. “Barbaric stuff.”

Craig shot his wife a wary glance. “Both are perfectly adequate anesthetics if used appropriately.”

Marissa shrugged off her husband’s irritated glare as though to say,
I’m right, you’ll see…

Craig just rolled his eyes and scrubbed his hands in a water basin waiting beside the exam table.

Davy and Curtis exchanged a quick, confused look. Their sister-in-law was a bit of an enigma. She’d been assisting in Craig’s medical practice since the war, and Craig often deferred to her expertise though no one knew where she came by it. Davy had also witnessed Marissa and Craig clash on medical subjects on multiple occasions.

“Has the sheriff been notified?” Craig asked officiously.

“Uh, yes. I sent Deputy Winston to find him as soon as I learned of the attack.”

Craig moved to Lilly’s side, tilting her face with his hands to assess the bruises on her neck. After a moment he glanced up. “Davy, Curtis, if you’ll excuse us.”

Davy’s heart clenched. He glanced from Lilly’s ashen face to Marissa waiting beside the office door, indicating for him to leave. The whole scene sprawling before him was unbearably familiar. The last time he’d been shoved from a room by his brother ‘the doctor’ his wife had died.

“No.” Davy stood fast, unable to shed the sense that if he left her now he would never see her again. “Let me stay with her.”

Marissa’s eyes melted with combined compassion and empathy. She opened her mouth as though to speak, but pursed her lips at the last moment, casting her husband a questioning glance.

Craig shook his head. “I know what she means to you, Davy, truly I do, but George Hudson would have my hide. I’m sorry, but you must go. It is imperative I examine her now.”

Curtis dropped a heavy hand on David’s shoulder. “Come on, Davy. I’ll wait with you.”

Davy nodded, striding from the room, praying no horrible injuries had befallen her.

The door clicked shut, wrought with finality, and Davy dropped into a straight backed wooden chair, lost in despair.

“You love her,” Curtis stated, startling Davy out of his stupor.

There was
that
word again.
Love.
David washed a hand over his face, meeting his younger brother’s gaze. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He’d been so long in avoiding romance he wasn’t sure what the emotion should feel like anymore.

Curtis nodded but didn’t push. Instead, he crossed brawny arms across his chest and sprawled out in the chair. “Jesus,” he blasphemed after a moment. “You’d think Craig could invest in some decent chairs.”

Davy watched Curtis situate himself upon no less than three chairs. The scene would have been amusing if not for the devastating scenario which had them sitting… waiting… in the first place.

“How did you come to be at the attack so quickly?” Davy asked.

“Cadence and I were having dinner with Craig and Marissa. Someone came calling for a doctor so I tagged along.” Curtis sat forward, raking a hand through his hair. “Apparently Lilly put up one hell of a fight. She screamed for help and several people came to her aide.”

“Did anyone see who attacked her?”

Curtis shook his head. “That I don’t know. Craig and I arrived right before you did.”

Davy knew he should be out with the deputies tracking down leads but the thought of leaving Lilly…

He couldn’t do it.

He glanced at his watch.
Four o’clock
. Apparently he’d forgotten to wind it that afternoon. Frustrated he snapped the timepiece closed, tightening a fist around the smooth round metal.

“She’ll be fine, Davy.”

Davy sighed, resting his elbows on his thighs. “She’s just so stubborn. If she only would have listened, none of this would have happened.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I locked her in the damn jail cell this afternoon trying to keep her safe.”

Curtis laughed, eyes twinkling. “And you’re not sure if you love her?”

Davy grunted noncommittally.
Lilly… love… marriage…
Those three concepts seemed an intertwined, recurring theme today. Even George wanted him to offer for his daughter.

The door opened, saving him from the need to make any further comment or decisions. Craig filled the doorway, expression grim.

Davy’s heart plunged.

11
^th
Hour Rose

Ten

Head pounding, Lilly sat up on the exam table with Mrs. Langston’s assistance.

“Just a take a moment before you stand,” the doctor’s wife said kindly. “Do you feel dizzy or lightheaded?”

“No,” Lilly replied. “But I do have a terrible headache.”

The other woman gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “That should pass in a day or so.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Langston.”

“Oh, none of that. Call me Marissa please.” She smiled and leaned in conspiratorially, a sparkle lighting her warm brown eyes. “If you’re up to it, David is waiting to see you. He is beside himself. Craig could scarcely convince him to leave the room.”

Lilly flushed, glancing away from Marissa’s suggestive gaze. A jumbled haze of memories bandied about her head. The attack… Davy cuddling her into his sturdy chest… Had she told him of her love? She couldn’t quite recall…

“Of course I’ll see him.”

Before Marissa could go to the other room and usher the men back, David barreled in, expression haggard. “Lilly!”

Their eyes connected and her heart all but stopped in her chest. Her arms lifted of their own volition, drawn to him with a force of their own.

David closed the distance to the exam table in three long strides as though propelled forward by the same magnetic force
.
He folded her into his embrace without hesitation or preamble. “I thought I’d lost you.” His face dropped to the curve of her neck and shoulder.