Harnessed Passions (68 page)

"You said people claimed to have seen Julia
with him. Suppose it was Heather wearing Julia's clothes so people
wouldn't tell her parents about it? It is possible Heather was
trying to avoid suspicion by wearing Julia's dresses, making
everyone who saw her think it was Julia rather than herself. That
way, she could sneak around with Overton and still have people
thinking she was innocent of any wrong doings, thus protecting her
secret from her family."

"Heather wouldn’t have done anything like
that. It would have made Julia look guilty and she'd never have
hurt her that way."

"Maybe it wasn't a conscious act, but just
her way of hiding from her family? It may not have even been her
idea. A little persuasion and some sweet words spoken at the right
time and a woman would do just about anything a man asked. I know
I've done the same thing on occasion."

"I suppose it could be possible. Heather
didn't exactly have the best relationship with her parents and she
was very inexperienced and insecure."

"I have to find out. I have to talk with
Overton again." Daniel knocked the tobacco out of his pipe and was
just heading to the door when a knock sounded. He stopped Thompson
with a wave from answering it, and opened the door himself. He
swung the door open hoping to find Julia standing outside, but
instead found Harold.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he
demanded, stepping back to permit his friend in.

"I came to talk to you about the letter.
Didn't Julia give it to you?"

"The letter? Good God Harold, I've been too
busy to even open it."

"Then I think you'd better. I have to send a
reply as soon as possible."

"What sort of reply?"

"Daniel dammit, read the letter!" The two
men stepped back into the library, joining Louise who remained to
listen. Daniel took the letter from where he had tucked it in the
journal and tore it open. He pulled the paper out and began reading
through it as Harold went to the liquor cabinet and poured a glass
of brandy, leaning his hip against the cabinet to await Daniel's
reply.

"Oh my God!" Daniel snapped, dropping the
letter to the chair. "Let's get to the stables." The two men left
the house at a fast pace, leaving Louise to stare her confusion at
their departing backs. She picked up the paper that had been
discarded and read through its contents.

Dear Mr. Leonard,

In regards to your inquiry about Miss
Sharon

Farnsworth, I'm afraid I have some bad
news

for you. As lawyer for the Farnsworth
family,

it's my sad duty to inform you, Sharon has
passed

away. She spent the past four years in a
hospital

in New York state, where she had been
suffering

from a nervous breakdown. Her room caught
on

fire and she was trapped inside. By the time
the

fire was put out, Sharon was dead.

If you have any further questions, the
family would

appreciate your contacting me, rather than
them.

Sincerely yours,

Raymond S. Talbot

Attorney At Law.

Louise dropped the letter and headed out the
door behind Daniel and Harold. If Sharon was dead, then how was it
possible she could be here? There were an awful lot of questions to
answer and at the moment her main concern was why Julia hadn’t
returned from town yet? She had a terrible feeling in her gut that
her only daughter was in trouble and needed help.

Daniel, Harold and twelve of the stable
hands were already saddling up the horses when Louise caught up to
them; her heart pounding like thunder, her pulse racing with fear
and her lungs demanding oxygen. She touched Daniel's arm and tried
to compose her words through gasps of air.

"Daniel...Julia...Sharon..."

"What is it?" Daniel growled, holding the
woman by the shoulders. "Is Julia back? Where is she?" Louise shook
her head softly.

"No...but she should have been...she's been
gone too long...maybe Sharon..."

"Stay here and wait for her," he ordered
gently, pushing her out of the way. "We'll divide up. Some of you
men head over to the Farnsworth place and check it out. Harold you
head back to town. If you don't see anything, fetch the sheriff; we
may need him before this is over. I'm heading out to the swimming
hole. Shamus and Barker, you come with me." Daniel looked around
the gathering men and frowned. "Where's Rally?"

"He headed out about an hour ago," Ivan
said, his thick red mustache falling in his mouth as he spoke.

"Where did he go?" Harold asked
suspiciously.

"Don't know, he didn't say. I saw him head
north though." Harold looked to Daniel, knowing exactly what he was
thinking.

"The swimming hole," Harold said as a sudden
rush of fear raged through his limbs, causing his knees to shake
with anticipation. "Would he cause Julia any problems?"

"I don't think so; she’s never done anything
to the man, but I'm not in the mood to play guessing games. Let's
go and the first person to spot Julia, fire a shot in the air so
the rest of us will know." The men turned their horses and headed
out in the directions Daniel ordered, each hoping for the best,
each fearing the worst.

Daniel had a painful knot in his stomach
that forced him to push his prized steed to his limits. He had to
find Julia, he had to help her and he prayed he was in time to
prevent anything else from happening. His fear mounted; not only
did he have to worry about Julia possibly falling victim to another
of what he was certain was Sharon Farnsworth’s wicked schemes, but
now he had to worry whether or not Rally was caught in the middle
with his wife.

The carriage had just turned off the main
road, heading up the path that led to the ranch when Julia heard
her name being called out. She looked across the field and saw a
dark haired woman riding toward her as though the devil himself
were riding her back. She frowned as the woman neared and sighed
with disgust. She had thought herself fortunate for having avoided
her for this long; but there was no escaping this time.

"I wonder what
she
wants," Margie
snarled.

"Julia come quick," Sharon shouted, across
the distance of road, preventing her from answering Margie's
question. "Daniel's been hurt." Julia turned to Margie and back to
Sharon, examining the woman through narrowed eyes.

"Where is he?"

"Follow me, hurry." Julia's nudged her horse
into a faster gallop, following Sharon across the fields toward the
swimming hole. The thought of Daniel in pain brought a lump of
terror to her throat, but a still small voice warned her to be
cautious. Sharon wasn't exactly a very reliable or trustworthy
person, regardless of the situation.

"We should send for the doctor," Julia
shouted, across the carriage seat as she edged closer to
Sharon.

"We already have."

"We didn't see anybody on the road from
town?" Margie argued as the chestnut colored mare picked up her
pace, racing toward the secluded pond.

Julia stopped the carriage at the top of the
small hill and hurried down the path in front of Sharon. The trees
and brush were so thick; Julia had to struggle to get past them.
She neared the water's edge and looked around, seeing only the
darkness of night reflecting from the water's surface. She turned
around in time to see Margie and Sharon arguing, witnessing her
friend as she fell in a lifeless heap on the cold ground.

Dourn Overton stood behind Margie's
unconscious body, a pistol in his right hand, his dark dirty hat
pulled low across his penetrating gaze. Julia's eyes widened with
horror; she wasn't certain what had just transpired; it all seemed
to happen so quickly she wasn't certain if Margie had been killed
or merely wounded. Julia swallowed hard staring up the small
incline to where Dourn and Sharon stood towering across her friend,
when realization struck her.

They stood less than twenty yards in front
of her; Sharon's eyes cold and dark, filled with hatred; her
fingers, like Dourn's, were wrapped around the handle of a small
revolver.

"You're such a little fool," Sharon bit out
with venom.

"Where's Daniel?" Julia demanded, forcing
control into her voice.

"Home I suppose. I never did understand what
he saw in you."

"What do you want?" Julia asked through
narrowed eyes.

"What do you think? It's your fault my
sister's dead. It should be you in that grave, not Heather."

"What?" Julia frowned as she listened to the
seething anger that filled the girl’s voice.

"Tell me Julia, have you seen Heather's
ghost recently?"

"How did you know about that?" Accusation
echoed in her tone as Julia first glanced at Margie still lying on
the ground, and then to Dourn. Had she been right after all? Had
Daniel been more intimate with the beautiful Sharon Farnsworth than
he claimed and revealed Julia's horrible visions to her in a moment
of intimacy?

"Ya don't honestly think Heather would come
back just fer ya, now do ya?" Dourn asked; a quiet threat echoing
around them as he spoke.

"You...both of you?" Julia whispered,
mentally beginning to piece the puzzle together and feeling the
strange relief of knowledge. "You attacked me that day in my
father's study, didn't you? You made me believe I'd seen Heather,
but why?"

"That ain't important," Dourn growled, his
voice dangerously low through the night's stillness. "Ya killed
Heather 'n it's time ya paid fer yer actions."

"Heather was my best friend, I would never
hurt her," Julia said, hoping her voice was as strong and calm as
she tried to make it sound, considering the terror gripping her
insides. "You didn’t even know her; what gives you the right to
accuse anyone?"

"I’s known her better than ever’one. Heather
were my wife."

"What? Heather wasn't married, it's
impossible. You've only been here a few weeks; you told me so
yourself."

"Yer such a child," the man sneered. "I’s
used ta work fer yer ol’ man, 'til that husband a yers ruined
ever'thin'."

"What's Daniel got to do with this?"

"I’s were in the saloon tryin' ta ferget how
ya killed Heather 'n just got ‘way with it, when him 'n that fat
Leonard came in," Dourn paused a brief second looking down at
Margie laying at his feet, before he continued. "They started
toastin' women and claimin' theirs were better than an’ones. I’s
tried ta prove him wrong when he attacked me 'n had me thrown in
jail. Yer pa fired me when I’s come back ta work next day."

"I thought I recognized you, but who are
you? I don't know any Dourn."

"Allow me ta introduce myself," Dourn smiled
with an evil grin on his unshaven face. "The name's Overton;
Michael Overton. I's be Rally's son."

"Michael," Julia gasped remembering the one
and only time Heather had ever mentioned a Michael. "Heather said
she knew a man named Michael, but she never told me anything else.
If she was married, why didn't she tell me? We were closer than any
two people ever were; if she really did marry you, she would have
told me."

"We were 'fraid ya'd try 'n talk her outta
marryin' me, if'n ya knew. Ya were always criticizin' her, tellin'
her she weren't smart 'nough or purty 'nough. Ya even gave her yer
thrown off clothes, just ta make her feel beneath ya."

"That's not true. I never said anything like
that to Heather. She was my best friend and I loved her. My life
has been empty since she died."

"Yer life? What 'bout my life. Ya ruined my
life!" Michael stepped across Margie to approach Julia, the gun in
his hand shaking with anger, the smell of sweat and whiskey reeked
in the air around him.

"I didn't kill Heather," Julia shouted,
taking a step up the path. "She was dead when I got here."

"Yer a liar!" he shouted, grabbing Julia by
the arm. “I’s s’posed to meet her after she were done speakin’ ta
ya, but she nev’er showed up. When I’s came lookin’ fer her, I’s
seen you with her dead body. I’s seen it with my own eyes. Ya
killed my Heather.”

"It's not true. She was dead when I found
her, you have to believe me."

"Believe a lying little tramp like you?"
Sharon snarled, edging closer to the two. "Why should he? He knows
the truth, just like I do."

"Michael, listen to me," Julia insisted,
trying to remain calm. "Heather's death was an accident. Nobody
killed her, she fell and hit her head. If you knew Heather as well
as you claim, then you must have known she wasn't a very good
swimmer."

"Heather didn't come 'ere ta swim, she came
here ta tell ya she was leavin'. Heather 'n I were movin' ta
Colorada ta start a ranch all our own. She were scared ya wouldn't
understand, she were 'fraid ya'd tell her folks 'n they'd stop us,
so she waited 'til she found out she were pregnant."

"Pregnant?" Sharon snapped, eyeing the man
strangely. "You never told me you got my sister pregnant. Was she
better in bed than I am?"

"Ya couldn't hold a candle ta Heather when
it comes ta love makin'," the man told her with a deep chuckle.

"But you said you liked my body," Sharon
whispered, her tone soft and laced heavy with hurt.

"Yer convenient Sharon, but ya'll never be
Heather. She were more a woman then ten just like ya."

"That's not true!" The woman demanded,
shoving the man's shoulder and nearly tipping him over. Julia
gasped as she was pulled off balance, landing in the mud near the
water's edge. "I'm more of a woman than that sniveling little
nobody. Just ask any man, they'll all tell you I'm the best lover
there is."

"Yer loosin' yer grip woman," the man
snapped, pulling himself up to face her. "If'n ya ain't careful,
ya'll find yerself back in that hospital I’s helped ya get
outta."

"Don't say that Mikie, please," Sharon
pleaded suddenly, wrapping her arms around the man's neck. "You
know I didn't mean it, please don't take me back there. I couldn't
stand being locked up like that again, begging for the guards to
love me. It's terrible there."