Reclaiming His Past (14 page)

Rubbing a weary hand over his face, he sighed. “You should've let me sleep. It would've passed.”

Face-to-face with him in the predawn hours, she felt a trifle silly. Perhaps he was right.

“What were you dreaming about?”

“The same dream I've had for three nights straight.”

“Did you remember something?”

“I didn't want to tell you. I've no clue who the man is or what it means.”

“What man?” She stepped forward, accidentally landing on his foot. Also shoeless. “Sorry.”

“In my dream, I'm struggling with a man. He lunges at me, and I grab him. We go down and then I wake up. I don't recognize him, but I do know he's angry with me.”

“Grant, this is good news. I think I have paper among my things. We have to record the details and take them to Shane. We can sketch his likeness and compare them to the jail's wanted posters.”

He clutched her arm before she could retreat. “That can wait until after breakfast.”

“But it's fresh in your mind. You might forget something important.”

“Go to bed before someone discovers us and assumes the worst. I can't marry you, Jessica. Not even to save your reputation.”

Shock rendered her mute. Then irrational hurt filtered in. Ripping free of his hold, she jutted her chin. “Who said I'd marry you, anyway?”

“Jessica—”
Exasperation riddled his tone.

“Good night, Grant.” Escaping to her tent, she slumped onto her pallet and buried her flaming face in the pillow. “Next time I'll let you suffer through your nightmares alone.”

* * *

She was the most infuriating woman on the planet.

Scooping a handful of chestnuts from the ground, he dropped them into his sack and tried not to eavesdrop on her and Juliana's conversation. Their group had moved higher up the mountainside after a cold breakfast of ham and biscuits. She'd rebuffed his efforts to speak in private. His comment had upset her, and she refused to let him explain.

Their predawn interaction dominated his thoughts. His defenses practically nonexistent, he'd come close to kissing her. Dangerously close, in fact. He'd yearned to pull her into his arms. Only by God's grace had he found the strength to refrain.

If one of her family members had seen them, or one of the campers...they would've misinterpreted the innocent exchange.

A hand clamped onto his shoulder. “Something on your mind, Parker?”

Caleb's gaze traveled a deliberate path to Jessica, indicating he'd picked up on her icy attitude.

“Plenty.”

Not that he was about to share any of it with her cousin. Like the sheriff, Caleb didn't approve of his associating with her. Stooping lower to the ground, he pried a stubborn nut from its prickly burr.

Caleb joined him beneath the branches and got to work. “My youngest cousin can test a man's patience. Jane's a sweetheart. Jessica, on the other hand, possesses the will and stubbornness of an ox. Always has, always will.”

His casual assessment evoked a swift, defensive reaction in Grant. Swiping his sleeve across his sweaty brow, he turned to study her, the smile she gifted her sister tinged in sadness. He wished he could take away the hurt, but how?

“Nothing wrong with a spirited woman.” He speared Caleb with his gaze. “Personally I wouldn't want one who catered to my every whim. Maybe you're too close to see that Jessica can be sweet the same as her twin.”

The other man's knowing smirk made Grant feel as if he'd been snared in a trap.

“Is that so?” Caleb drawled, brows lifting.

“No need to lecture me,” he retorted. “I've already gotten an earful from your good friend the sheriff.”

His dark eyes continued to study him. Grant held his gaze. At last, Caleb shrugged. “We don't want to see her get hurt again.”

“She's mentioned her former beau a time or two. How bad was he?”

Anger shimmered around Caleb and, with that wicked scar, he looked deadly. “The worst kind of manipulator. She's convinced he loved her, but his actions proved otherwise.”

Both men stopped what they were doing when a pair of young girls approached the women. The smaller one with brown curls and a shy smile handed Jessica a piece of paper. Grant's lungs seized as Jessica's face brightened with pleasure. She was breathtaking. And very, very sweet.

Bending to hug the girl, Jessica's eyes met his and darkened to twin pools of forest green. For an instant before she schooled her features, she looked young and vulnerable. He shared in Caleb's anger, wishing this Lee person was around so that he could show him what he thought about his treatment of her.

“What happened between them? What exactly did Lee do to her?”

“She'd be livid if I told you. If you haven't noticed, my cousin is the private sort. She'll tell you when she's ready.”

He wasn't certain she'd ever be ready, that she'd ever trust him enough to bare her heart. The knowledge cut deep. He was getting in way over his head. Jessica would never be his to love or protect, comfort or cherish.

If he was smart, he'd pack his bags and move on before it was too late.

Chapter Fourteen

“I
've cornered you at last. Unless you plan on running again.”

Her hands submerged in the water, Jessica ignored Grant's dig. No use denying she'd been avoiding him the entire day. While ridiculous, the humiliation she felt burned beneath her skin, as did the infuriating wish that he'd take her in his arms and profess his ardent admiration. Had she learned
nothing
from Lee?

Snatching up a towel, he sank onto the bank and began drying the clean dishes. Waning sunlight washed the mountain in a pinkish-yellow haze. A few yards away, a squirrel scampered between the trees.

“I don't know about you, but I could sleep for a week.”

Against her better judgment, she spared him a glance. He looked as ruggedly appealing as ever, his skin slightly red from hours in the sun. “How's your wound?”

“A little sore, is all.” His eyes were like a bright summer sky, trailing blissful heat across her face.

Nodding, she scrubbed the skillet's surface. Weariness dogged her movements. Hopefully she'd sleep too soundly to hear anything that night, be it wild beast or man. There'd be no repeat of last night's foolishness.

A cloud of gnats whirled on the opposite bank. She observed their progress into the forest.

“After this, what do you say we pull out that paper of yours and record what I remember about the man in my dream?”

“You don't need me for that. I'll give you the writing supplies once I'm done here.”

Grant's fingers tangled in her hair, and she gasped, jerking her gaze to his. “You, ah, had something in your hair.” He pulled out a misshapen leaf and held it up for her inspection.

She continued to stare at him, and he dropped his hand to his lap. “You didn't let me finish earlier.”

“No need.” She strove for a casual air, hoping he wouldn't see the hectic pulse at her throat. He didn't want to marry her. So what?

“Yes, there is.” He sighed. “If you hadn't dived into your tent, I would've said that I can't marry anyone because I don't know if I'm already married. It has nothing to do with you personally.”

Oh. Annoyed at the relief rushing through her, she flipped her ponytail behind her shoulder. “Like I said, your marital status makes no difference to me.”

One blond brow quirked, his expression challenging. He opened his mouth to speak and was prevented by the arrival of Eve and Lydia. Eve hefted a container full of dirty pots and utensils. “Do you mind if we wash here, Miss Jessica?”

“Not at all.”

Setting it on the ground with a thump, Eve handed a towel to Lydia. Seeing their interest in Grant, Jessica introduced them. Both girls blushed at his charming greeting.

“Did you like my drawing, Miss Jessica?” Lydia asked.

“Very much. You're a talented artist. Thank you, again.”

“What did you do to deserve such a gift?” Grant asked her, stacking a clean mug atop the rest.

“She saved my dolly from drowning,” Lydia piped up, her eyes big and adoring.

“I see.” Grant's smile was centered on Jessica, and her insides went all mushy, despite her earlier irritation with him. “Well, that's a
nice
thing to do.”

Unable to form a coherent response, she concentrated on finishing her task and fleeing his confounding presence. When the basin became full, he went to retrieve another. Content to listen to the girls chatter about their older siblings and home in the outskirts of Cades Cove, she was washing her last plate when Lydia cried out.

Jessica's head shot up in time to see the knife fall into the water. Lydia stared in openmouthed horror at her flattened hand. Eve grabbed her wrist and paled.

“Miss Jessica! She's cut herself. It's bad!”

Feeling as if she were moving through a gallon of sticky syrup, she reached Lydia and, taking her small hand, inspected the injury. Blood spurted from the gash. The girl's crying rang in her ears. Suddenly, she was back in the barn, the stench of kerosene strangling her and the blood pooling on Lee's stomach. Fear rendered her limbs useless. He was going to die, and there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

“Miss Jessica—” someone was tugging on her sleeve “—you have to do something.”

And then Grant was there, nudging her out of the way, ripping a towel into strips. She watched, numb to the core, as he soothed the child and quickly bound her hand.

“Can you get her to your parents?” he asked Eve.

“Yes, sir.” Pointing to a nearby site where a man and woman conversed by a fire, she said, “That's them.”

“Your ma can see to her wound. I'll come by and check on her in a bit.”

“Thank you, sir.” With a furtive glance at Jessica, Eve curved a supportive arm around her sister and led her away.

Jessica didn't realize she was crying until Grant came and wiped the moisture away with his fingertips. Lacing his fingers through her cold ones, he nodded upstream. “Come with me.”

Blindly she went with him, fresh guilt compacting upon old guilt. Following the water's meandering path, he led her farther into the dense forest, and when she stumbled for the second time, he released her hand, wrapped his arm about her waist and guided her to where there were no people.

Stopping in a copse of fir trees, he pressed a handkerchief in her hand.

“I couldn't help her. I wanted to, but I...” More tears slipped down her cheeks, and her hands shook as she attempted to sop up the mess.

Grant stayed close, caressing her arm, his eyes brimming with understanding. “I know.”

Shame barreled through her at the remembrance of Eve's parting glance. “She needed me, and I couldn't help her.”

“Like you couldn't help him.”

Jessica sniffed, too distressed to argue.

“Tell me about Lee. Tell me everything.”

Her head bowed, she stared at their dusty boots and the leaf-littered ground. “No.”

The truth would change his view of her, and she craved his good opinion.

He gently tipped up her chin, giving her no choice but to meet his gaze head-on. “You've held it in for far too long, my sweet.”

“I made a horrible mistake,” she whispered.

“I don't matter, remember? So you can unburden yourself and not worry about the future.”

The tenderness in his manner brought on a fresh wave of sorrow, and she wanted to tell him he was wrong, that he most certainly
did
matter. That despite her best efforts, her heart had decided he was important.

He pulled her into his embrace, his arms linking low on her back. She cried into the curve of his neck and shoulder, the steady thump of his heartbeat reassuring beneath her cheek. He held her until there were no more tears left to be spilled, and his shirt was damp.

She stirred. Loath to leave the haven of his arms, but aware she couldn't remain there forever, she made to move away. Grant's hold tightened. He pressed a kiss to her temple, his breath stirring her hair, before releasing her.

He didn't let her retreat, however. He joined their hands, his expression telling her he'd wait here until Christmas if need be.

So she told him how Lee had convinced everyone that he'd come to Gatlinburg in search of a simple country life. There'd been no reason not to believe him. She told him about Jane's suspicions, how she'd witnessed him selling homemade moonshine to locals.

“I refused to believe her, so she pretended to be me and wangled an invitation to his home.” After all the crying, her eyes were puffy and her throat full of needles.

His jaw dropped. “Jane tricked him into thinking she was you?”

“Doesn't strike you as the type to do something that bold, does she?”

His incredulous gaze roamed her face. “I'm guessing you didn't take the news well.”

“I was incensed. Hurt, too. I felt betrayed. So much so that I didn't care that she'd found evidence of a major moonshine production.”

His frown turned thoughtful. “Revenue collectors turned their attention to this area in recent years. They were determined to enforce the excise tax.”

“Yes. How did you...”

“Not sure.” Pulling away, he tunneled his fingers through his hair. “Did Lee catch on?”

“Yes. He told her that his business associates were dangerous, and that she should keep quiet. He promised he'd get out as soon as he made enough money to set us up for a good life.”

He should've known she didn't care about excess material wealth.

“She didn't heed his warning, did she?”

“No. Tom discovered her pretense, as well. They went to Shane with their information.”

“That's why he makes you uncomfortable. He knows the whole story.”

Pacing away, she lifted her face to the weakening rays of the sun slanting through the trees. The colorful patchwork of leaves filled her vision. She wondered what it would be like way up there, far above the cares of the earth.

“How did you wind up in your barn?”

“Jane came to Lee's place looking for me. She stumbled upon him and his boss, John Farnsworth. And then I swooped in, waving my weapon around, positive I could save her.”

Grant gently turned her to face him, the fierceness wreathing his features at odds with his touch. “What you did was extremely brave and noble.”

“She never would've been at his mercy if I'd listened to her. I was stubborn and stupid and—”

“Stop,” he commanded. “You were in love with the man. Of course you weren't going to believe him of wrongdoing. Not without seeing the proof with your own eyes.”

“I still don't understand how I missed the signs he was hiding something. I feel like the biggest idiot on earth.”

“That's what con artists do. They prey on people's belief in basic human decency.” The matter-of-factness in his tone took them both by surprise. Stroking his light beard, he shook away his confusion. “So you confronted them on Lee's property. Why were you on yours?”

“Farnsworth planned to cover up our deaths by burning our barn to the ground.” A shudder racked her frame. “I'll never forget that man's face. There was no compassion in him, only evil.”

“Is he dead?”

“He's spending the rest of his life in prison.”

Cupping her cheek, Grant murmured, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For trusting me. It's a strange thing not to be trusted. Or needed.”

Jessica's heart fluttered in her chest. Heady emotion crashed through her, bittersweet and poignant and wistful. For the first time since Lee's death, she experienced hope.

Above their heads, a pair of robins burst from the branches. With a rueful smile, Grant put distance between them. “You ready to return to camp?”

She balled the soaked handkerchief in her fist. “I'd like to see Lydia and apologize.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. But we can stop and see her.” He started walking, and she fell into step beside him. She felt his perusal. “Did talking about it help?”

“A little.”

“You still hold yourself responsible, though.”

Jessica didn't respond.

“He deceived you, Jessica. By keeping his criminal activities secret, he put you in danger. You couldn't control his actions. In the end, he decided to fight back. To try to save you and your sister. And Jane made her decision. She chose to protect you.”

“I can't stop thinking if I had gone to Shane in the beginning, we never would've ended up in that barn.”

“You can't know for sure what the outcome might've been. And what about Lee's culpability? He's the one who was breaking the law.” Banked anger glittered in his gaze. “Have you ever considered your grief might be marring your perception of things? If he hadn't died, if Lee was sitting in prison right now, would you feel differently?”

Grant continued walking, unaware that she'd stopped cold. He finally stopped and turned.

“I've been so angry at him. Angry at a dead man. What kind of person does that make me?”

“A sane one. He's not around for you to focus your anger on, so you turned it on yourself.”

His argument resonated with truth, a powerful truth that made sense of everything she'd experienced. “How did you get to be so wise?”

“I offered an objective perspective, that's all.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “You were able to do what no one else has in all these months.”

“What's that?”

“Make me see reason.”

* * *

He had another nightmare that night.

Not about the stranger. This time he dreamed Jessica was trapped in a raging inferno. He woke gasping for breath, his skin drenched and heart pounding.

She wasn't the only one angry at a dead man.

Grant found it impossible to rationalize how any sane person could treat her with such disrespect. To deceive her, put her very life in danger... That Lee had sacrificed himself trying to save her was his only redeeming quality.

Shoving off the blanket, he emerged into the quiet night and inhaled the crisp, fragrant air. Face lifted to the heavens, he turned in a complete circle, studying the stars. He could breathe easier outside. He was more comfortable in open spaces than confined by tent or cabin walls. Had he led a nomadic life?

His gaze fell on Jessica's tent, and he half wished she'd come out, despite the risk. He would've liked to talk with her. Find some excuse, like a crooked ribbon or stray leaf, to touch her hair. Tease laughter into her wide green eyes and color in her cheeks. He still could hardly believe she'd opened up to him about her past. Holding her, comforting her, he'd felt more at home in his own body since he'd woken with no idea who or what he was.

Upon their return, their first stop had been at Lydia's campsite. Although subdued, she'd warmed to Jessica's apology and hug, taking pride in showing them her bandaged hand. Her parents had been effusive in their gratitude. Jessica's family members hadn't been pleased at their extended absence. One look at her grief-ravaged face, and they'd turned accusing eyes on him. But then she'd smiled, taken out her fiddle and asked him if he'd like to play with her. Bemused, Juliana and the others had gathered around and listened as his guitar and her fiddle joined together in song.