The Gift (22 page)

Harlan’s gaze drifted toward Ty. “Well, if it isn’t my loving baby brother.”

“Don’t mess with me, Gary,” Ty warned.

“I think the bitch broke my ribs, too.”

“Good, and she’s not a bitch.”

Harlan sneered, despite the blood still oozing from his nose. “So it’s like that. She your new whore, Tyrone?”

Ty took a quick step toward the bastard on the floor, but Beth shook her head. “No, Ty. He’s not worth it.”

Harlan turned his gaze toward Beth again. “How the hell’d you know where to find me?”

“Ruby told me,” she said with the nastiest smile she could manage.

He appeared confused. “You can’t prove a fucking thing,” he taunted.

“Try us, you bast—”

“Allow me, Ty. Allow me.” So Beth gave him an agonizingly detailed accounting of Lorilee’s murder just as Sheriff Dan Bailey arrived to listen from the doorway.

And, rather than deny it, Gary turned to gloat at his half brother. “Yeah, just that way, baby brother.”

Sheriff Bailey, weapon drawn, said from the doorway, “Good work, Dearborn. Heard every word.”

Realizing he’d just confessed to Lorilee’s murder, Gary bolted to his feet, lunging toward Bailey with a hideous cracking sound from his broken leg. He ignored multiple commands to halt.

More than one bullet stopped Gary Harlan’s flight from justice.

Beth turned to Ty just as Gary’s spirit left his body
and tried to engage her. He expected her to relive his death, but she told him no. In the past, she’d been unable to prevent spirits who needed her help from making themselves welcome, whether she wanted them there or not. She was stronger now. Plus, Gary didn’t deserve her help. After all, he hadn’t been murdered. On the contrary,
he
was the murderer.

“I blocked him,” she said. For the first time, Beth Dearborn had
control
of her empathic gift. “I don’t believe it…”

Ty hugged her, and she wound her arms around his waist, breathing in his scent.
He
had given her another gift—control.

Back at the sheriff’s office in Brubaker, Sarah told them about the ring she’d found and where it was now. Grandma Ruby had tearfully confessed to her where Gary had buried her momma, and how she’d managed to hide the ring, thinking she’d somehow give it to Sarah one day to appease her own guilt.

A search along the creek revealed Lorilee’s seven-year-old grave and Lorilee’s remains. They had Gary’s confession, Lorilee’s diary, and enough evidence to close the case.

Now maybe Lorilee Brubaker-Malone could rest in peace. And it was way past time to restore her reputation. After a quiet discussion with Sarah, Ty vowed to use Lorilee’s insurance policy to fund an alcohol-rehabilitation program.

“Lorilee would have liked that,” Beth said.

It took nearly all night, but finally Bill Brubaker had been informed of everything that happened. It would
take time for the man to overcome his feelings of guilt that his bride had been responsible for his daughter’s murder.

The children were all safe. When Bill asked that they be allowed to stay the remainder of the night, Ty couldn’t refuse. The old man’s expression appeared stricken. He needed his family. Even Sarah said she wanted to stay with him. After all, in the end, Grandma Ruby redeemed herself by trying to save Sarah, and she actually had tried to save Lorilee, too.

Beth, Sam, and Ty returned to the farm. Pearl and Cecil were back in their little house, so Ty wouldn’t have to worry about taking care of things.

Alone in the parlor, Ty took Beth by the hand and led her up the stairs, where they made love until the first streaks of dawn shown on the eastern horizon. Long after he’d fallen asleep, she lay staring into the darkness, savoring the steady rhythm of his heart, the warmth of his breath. In the dimness, Beth looked down at Ty’s sleeping face and tried to memorize it. How had she fallen in love so fast? So completely?

She already had orders to report to Memphis for her next assignment. Or maybe she’d go back to Chicago with Sam—quit the insurance game and try to get back on the force. Maybe…

She left Ty’s room, packed her bags, left the Colt in its box on her bed, and headed downstairs to meet Sam. She saw him leaning against his rental car, waiting for her. And she already knew he would try to talk her out of going.

She opened the front door—the same one she’d avoided for so long—and stood frozen. Paralyzed. She couldn’t move another step. It was as if an invisible barrier had formed across the threshold and
wouldn’t let her pass. Tears scalded her eyes. She wanted out of here. She had to go now.

“
Stay,
” Lorilee whispered. “
I waited to see if you would stay. You’re needed here. Don’t leave him.
”

“Don’t…” Beth pushed on the screen again, and it swung open. Lorilee was gone, and Beth knew it was for good this time.

She stopped on the porch to look out across the pasture, the fields, the trees along the creek. She’d grown to love more than Ty. She’d also grown to love this place.

She faced Sam—her beloved Sam. Disapproval oozed from his every pore, but he would keep his opinion to himself for now, at least until he was sure she was all right. Then he’d give her hell.

“Running away, Beth?” Ty asked from behind her. “Kinda early for a city girl.”

“Ty, don’t…”

“No,
you
listen.” He placed one hand on each side of her face. “You just hush and listen.”

Beth tried to speak, but couldn’t. She bit her lip and nodded.

“I, Ty Malone, love you, Beth Dearborn. Get that straight.” He smiled and kissed her. “You’re the bravest woman I’ve ever known.” He kissed her again. “Will you give this small town, this farm life, and me a try?”

“Ty…I’m—I’m an alcoholic.”

His brow furrowed. “I reckon Lorilee’s ghost said as much, but you don’t drink now.”

“I’m a
recovering
alcoholic.”

“You don’t drink,” he repeated. “How long have you been sober, Beth?”

“Three years and some.”

“That’s a hell of an accomplishment. You’re brave.” He kissed her again. “It just shows you have the kind of strength this family needs.”

“You…think I’m brave?” He thought she was brave? It was crazy, but Beth couldn’t imagine a life anywhere without Ty and his kids. Lorilee’s kids. Beth realized that Ty thought she deserved to be loved, to have a chance to raise his children. Staying sober so long told him she was a strong woman, one who might even be a good influence on everyone.

“I’m not cut out to be a farmer, Ty—not full-time, anyway.” She shook her head slowly. “Now that I’m finally learning to control my gift, I want—need—to use it.”

Sam cleared his throat. “Ever think of doing some consulting work, Cuz?”

“Consulting?” she echoed.

“I happen to know a certain chief of police who would sell his left nut to have you available even by phone once in a while.”

Ty chuckled. “Come to think of it, a certain small-town sheriff would appreciate your services, too.” He sighed and gripped her upper arms. “Stay.”

She nodded, her throat clogged with unshed tears. “I think,” she finally said, “that Lorilee left a little part of herself with me.”

Ty didn’t argue. “I carried a boatload of guilt for not getting her help when I knew in my gut she needed it.” He drew a deep breath and released it slowly. “You’ve allowed me to do that.”

“Well, kids,” Sam said, “I don’t think I’m needed here anymore.” He applauded, waved, blew her a kiss, and drove away in his rented Chevrolet.

“I believe in miracles again, Beth,” Ty said, holding
her in his arms. “And now, because of you, I believe in love again.”

He kissed her again—a kiss filled with promises. When Beth pulled away, she gazed into his eyes, and into her future.

“I’m not going anywhere, cowboy.”

LOVE SPELL
^®

November 2009

Published by

Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
200 Madison Avenue
New York, NY 10016

Copyright © 2009 by Debra S. Stover

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