name is Jarek.”
“What does he have to do with Samuel?”
She took a deep breath then blew it out slowly as if trying to steady her nerves. “Shortly after we moved here, he disappeared. All we could do was pray that God would protect him and bring him back to us. Then one afternoon my father saw a sketch of my brother on a wanted poster, and we found out that he was wanted for murder. I never heard the name of the boy he was accused of killing until I saw one of your newspaper clippings this morning while I was cleaning.” Lidia clenched the material of her dress with her fists. “He’s wanted for the murder of Samuel Johnson.”
Adam felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. Surely he’d misunderstood what she said. It didn’t make sense. Maybe he was sicker than he thought. Fever often signaled delirium. He ran his hand across his brow and felt the heavy beads of sweat. That’s what it was. He was simply having a bad dream. Maybe if he closed his eyes and relaxed, he would dream about their kiss instead. That had been real. She’d been so close, so real. It had happened. He knew it, but this …
“Adam, did you hear what I said?”
“There must be some mistake.” Adam shook his head and took a step back, not wanting to believe her.
“There’s no mistake. My brother killed your brother.”
He looked up at her. Her eyes were rimmed with tears and her cheeks were blotchy as if she’d been crying. He’d never meant to make her cry.
“His name is Jarek.”
“Jarek.” The earth spun faster. That had been his name, but … “No, Lidia, you’re mistaken. It couldn’t have been your brother.”
“I’ve seen the sketches. There’s no doubt. They look just like him.” She picked up her bucket and headed for the wagon. Her tears had been replaced by a vacant expression. “We never saw him again after that day. At first, my mother believed he’d simply gone back to Boston where we’d lived. She’d hoped he’d return for Christmas, but when my father saw the drawing and the reward of a thousand dollars on his head, we knew we were wrong. He wasn’t ever coming home again. At least not alive.”
Adam stopped beside her at the wagon. “Lidia, I’m so sorry …”
He choked on the words. Anger seeped through his pores. For a moment he was there again. In the past. He squeezed his eyes shut, praying that the haunting memories would leave him, but they wouldn’t. Instead they replayed over and over.
Samuel throwing the first punch. The other boy returning the blow. Adam had tried to stop them, but Samuel wouldn’t listen as he ran out the back to the side street and across the deserted field. There hadn’t been time to pull them apart. There was nothing he could do but watch as the boy drew a pistol from his holster, aimed it at his brother, and killed him.
Adam tried to steady his breathing as he looked at her, but his heart raced out of control. It shouldn’t matter. The fact that Lidia’s brother had been the one to kill Samuel had nothing to do with her or who she was. She hadn’t pulled the trigger. She was only guilty of being his sister, a fact she certainly couldn’t control.
He looked into her eyes and saw tears brimming in the corners. Her gaze begged him to understand. Begged him to forgive her for what had happened in the past between their brothers. He could forgive her, because in truth there was nothing to forgive. But the fact that her brother had been the one to take Samuel’s life would always stand between them. How could it not?
seven
Lidia stood and watched Adam stride toward the cabin, all the while willing her tears to disappear. The door slammed shut behind him and caused a thin layer of snow to slide off the roof and cascade onto the porch.
She’d known the moment she read Samuel Johnson’s name in the paper that no matter what Adam’s feelings toward her might be, nothing would ever be the same between them. And how could she blame him? Every time he
“What does he have to do with Samuel?”
She took a deep breath then blew it out slowly as if trying to steady her nerves. “Shortly after we moved here, he disappeared. All we could do was pray that God would protect him and bring him back to us. Then one afternoon my father saw a sketch of my brother on a wanted poster, and we found out that he was wanted for murder. I never heard the name of the boy he was accused of killing until I saw one of your newspaper clippings this morning while I was cleaning.” Lidia clenched the material of her dress with her fists. “He’s wanted for the murder of Samuel Johnson.”
Adam felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. Surely he’d misunderstood what she said. It didn’t make sense. Maybe he was sicker than he thought. Fever often signaled delirium. He ran his hand across his brow and felt the heavy beads of sweat. That’s what it was. He was simply having a bad dream. Maybe if he closed his eyes and relaxed, he would dream about their kiss instead. That had been real. She’d been so close, so real. It had happened. He knew it, but this …
“Adam, did you hear what I said?”
“There must be some mistake.” Adam shook his head and took a step back, not wanting to believe her.
“There’s no mistake. My brother killed your brother.”
He looked up at her. Her eyes were rimmed with tears and her cheeks were blotchy as if she’d been crying. He’d never meant to make her cry.
“His name is Jarek.”
“Jarek.” The earth spun faster. That had been his name, but … “No, Lidia, you’re mistaken. It couldn’t have been your brother.”
“I’ve seen the sketches. There’s no doubt. They look just like him.” She picked up her bucket and headed for the wagon. Her tears had been replaced by a vacant expression. “We never saw him again after that day. At first, my mother believed he’d simply gone back to Boston where we’d lived. She’d hoped he’d return for Christmas, but when my father saw the drawing and the reward of a thousand dollars on his head, we knew we were wrong. He wasn’t ever coming home again. At least not alive.”
Adam stopped beside her at the wagon. “Lidia, I’m so sorry …”
He choked on the words. Anger seeped through his pores. For a moment he was there again. In the past. He squeezed his eyes shut, praying that the haunting memories would leave him, but they wouldn’t. Instead they replayed over and over.
Samuel throwing the first punch. The other boy returning the blow. Adam had tried to stop them, but Samuel wouldn’t listen as he ran out the back to the side street and across the deserted field. There hadn’t been time to pull them apart. There was nothing he could do but watch as the boy drew a pistol from his holster, aimed it at his brother, and killed him.
Adam tried to steady his breathing as he looked at her, but his heart raced out of control. It shouldn’t matter. The fact that Lidia’s brother had been the one to kill Samuel had nothing to do with her or who she was. She hadn’t pulled the trigger. She was only guilty of being his sister, a fact she certainly couldn’t control.
He looked into her eyes and saw tears brimming in the corners. Her gaze begged him to understand. Begged him to forgive her for what had happened in the past between their brothers. He could forgive her, because in truth there was nothing to forgive. But the fact that her brother had been the one to take Samuel’s life would always stand between them. How could it not?
seven
Lidia stood and watched Adam stride toward the cabin, all the while willing her tears to disappear. The door slammed shut behind him and caused a thin layer of snow to slide off the roof and cascade onto the porch.
She’d known the moment she read Samuel Johnson’s name in the paper that no matter what Adam’s feelings toward her might be, nothing would ever be the same between them. And how could she blame him? Every time he
Similar Books
