Another Dawn (22 page)

Read Another Dawn Online

Authors: Deb Stover

Tags: #Fiction, #Redemption (Colo.), #Romance, #Capital Punishment, #Historical, #General, #Time Travel

      
Her blue eyes widened and she took a step closer. "Tell me about that place and those explosions, Father. Please?"

      
Luke struggled against the memories. The pain. The terror. In many ways, Sofie was the lucky one. Without her memory, there was no pain to remember, and nothing to miss.

      
What had he told her before? He had a vague memory of their conversation the morning of the explosions, when he'd made up some lame excuse for where they were and why. Damn. His lies were so numerous, he needed a guide to keep them straight. Sick, really sick.

      
"I remembered my mother," Sofie said suddenly, her expression wistful. "And an older brother, I think."

      
A chill rippled through Luke. "I...I thought you said you couldn't remember anything."
 
His words sounded like an accusation even to him, but he had to know. Was she lying to him, too? If so, why?

      
"Only that little bit."
 
She sighed and tucked a curl behind her ear again. "I was there when Mrs. Fleming told Jenny about her mother. That's when I saw the woman in my mind. My mother."

      
"You're sure it was your mother?" Luke swallowed the lump in his throat and dragged the toe of his boot along a seam in the floor. "How can you be so sure?"

      
Sofie shrugged and looked away. Guiltily? "I just know somehow."
 
After a moment, she locked her gaze on his. "And I know I need to go home to her."

      
How could he tell her? She'd never believe they'd been thrown back in time together. Why should she? If the situation were reversed, he wouldn't believe it.

      
"We were never even introduced, Sofie," he said truthfully, remembering when he'd first laid eyes on her. She'd cried for him. His pulse thundered through his veins. "We'd barely arrived when the explosions started."

      
"Arrived where?" She took another step toward him, so close now he could smell her clean, soapy scent. "Where were we that morning? What were we doing?"

      
He didn't want to think about that morning, about the horrendous pain or the fear. His fear. "I...I..."

      
"Where were we, Father?" Her voice rose and tears glistened in her eyes; one trickled down her cheek. "Please?"

      
Luke reached out to capture her tear on his fingertip, holding it out between them. It sparkled like a diamond dream in the early morning light spilling through the kitchen window.

      
He wanted to bury his fingers in her shiny black curls, to cup her small face between his hands and cover her lips with his. She had such a beautiful mouth, full and tempting.

      
"Please, Father?" she repeated.

      
Luke resisted being dragged back to the topic. Instead, he focused on her lips, moist and slightly parted. Another tear slid down her cheek, and she reached up to wipe it away.

      
Angry with himself, and with her for asking the impossible of him, he dropped her hand and watched her wipe tears from her face. He wanted to kiss away her tears, to touch every inch of her, to gaze on her naked flesh without shame.

      
God help him, but he wanted to have sex with Sofie.

      
Sex. Great sex. Lots of sex.

      
His breathing became shallow and his body suffused with fire–a far more pleasant burning than that inflicted by the electric chair. Yes, he burned with need, with hunger, with desire.

      
"You can't help me, Father?" she asked. "Or won't?"

      
"Can't."
 
And won't. Both were equally true. Luke licked his lips and wished the late Mr. Fleming's jeans were a bit roomier through the crotch about now. "I didn't know you before that morning, Sofie. Honest."

      
"You're a priest," she whispered, "so you can't lie to me."

      
Her words knifed through him and Luke tried to drag his guilty gaze from hers, but she held him prisoner with the intensity of her voice and eyes. "I'm not lying."
 
He would avoid the truth at all costs, but he would try not to lie to her. "We were part of a team sent to a government site to witness an...an experiment."
 
Since it was the first time the site had been put through its heinous paces, experiment seemed like the right word.

      
"What kind of experiment?" She tilted her head to one side, her tongue slipping between her lips to moisten them, leaving a silken pink sheen behind.

      
Fueled by his memory, Luke's need to kiss those lips skyrocketed. "It was, uh, top secret."
 
He shrugged. "We were brought in from various places, and most of us didn't know each other before."
 
True statement.

      
She shook her head. "A government experiment?"

      
"I really don't know anything more, except that you're a doctor, and we were in the wrong place at the wrong time."
 
My life story.

      
"Maybe we'll both remember more later."

      
Good, she was dropping the subject. Luke resisted the urge to sigh in relief.

      
"Remember when I was ill?" she continued, her nervous gaze darting to the door and back again.

      
"Yes, but you're all right now."
 
He would never forget that night. Never. So much for his short-lived relief.

      
"Yes, I'm fine now, but...but something bothers me about that night."

      
"Bothers
you?" he repeated, finding that word choice far short of accurate.

      
"Y-yes."
 
Again, she looked nervously toward the door, then back. With a sigh, she lifted her chin a notch and met his gaze steadily. "Mrs. Fleming said she saw you coming out of my room that night."

      
A roar echoed through Luke's brain as he tried to read her tone. Accusation, curiosity or something else? "Yes, I, uh..."
 
He hesitated, wondering how much of that night she remembered. She'd been pretty out of it. "I stopped to check on you."

      
Her cheeks reddened, but her steady stare held. "Did you...did I..."
 
She sighed again and held her hands out to her sides in a gesture of helplessness. "Father, did I–"

      
The back door swung open and the jingle of spurs made them both look that way.
Saved by the bell,
Luke thought, though he knew Sofie would question him again, and he knew exactly what she wanted to know. Had she really kissed him?
 

      
And had he kissed her back?

      
Oh, yeah, I sure as hell did.

      
Ab came through the door, removing his battered hat and looking down at the floor. A taller man loomed in the doorway behind him, drawing Luke's attention.

      
"Doc Wilson here?" Ab asked, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder at the stranger. "United States Marshal's here, and he wants to see the mayor."

      
Marshal
? Luke stared long and hard at the lawman, the epitome of every John Wayne western he'd ever seen. The man's weathered face was tanned, his eyes narrowed as if still squinting into the sun. Dark hair curled around his collar, where a bandanna sat off-kilter, and his faded jeans and shirt were coated with a fine layer of dust. A pair of guns hung in a leather holster at the man's narrow hips, and a silver star twinkled through the dust on his chest.

      
"Sam Weathers," the man said in a voice that could've been the biological equivalent to subwoofers. "United States Marshal out of Ft. Smith."

      
Ft. Smith
? Where had Luke heard that before, and why was it important?

      
"Dr. Wilson should return shortly."
 
Sofie moved away from Luke and turned her attention on the newcomer.

      
A surge of jealousy swept through Luke as he watched her give the Marshal the once over. Did Sofie find the lawman attractive? Of course, if she fell in love and forgot about Luke, that would be for the best. Wouldn't it?

      
Damn straight
. Luke jerked his attention back to the marshal. "You may have heard about our epidemic."

      
The stranger nodded once and removed his leather cowboy hat. "Need to speak to the mayor–Doc Wilson?–right away."

      
Ab shifted uncomfortably, fidgeting with the hat clutched in both hands. "What for?" he asked. "You didn't say."

      
"I'm lookin' for a man by the name of Zeke Judson."

      
Yes, that was where Luke had heard of Ft. Smith. How could he have forgotten Zeke's confession?
Some priest
. Of course, his shortcomings in that department had been well established by now.

      
Ab's face reddened and sweat coated his brow. "What do you want Zeke for?"

      
Luke knew Ab was fully aware of why his friend was a wanted man.

      
"Judge Parker sentenced Judson to hang, and I'm here to take him back."

      
"Zeke's wife just died of smallpox," Sofie said, taking a step toward the marshal.

      
"Well, I'm right sorry to hear that, ma'am," the marshal said, "but I'm only here to see justice done."

      
Justice
? The scorch of anger crept through Luke as he remembered Warden Graham's countless taunts about seeing his brand of justice done.

      
"Zeke was the one carrying out justice."
 
Luke's voice trembled with barely controlled rage. "Are you familiar with the case, Marshal?"

      
The man's eyes narrowed even more as he studied Luke with an intensity that rivaled an MRI. "You been hidin' Judson here? That makes you as guilty as him."

      
Luke straightened, praying his uncertainty didn't show. Maybe he didn't know much about the Code of the West or anything like that, but he knew a little something about truth and honor. Not that it had ever done him much good...

      
"Zeke confessed to me."

      
"Confessed?"

      
"He's a priest," Ab interjected.

      
The lawman's gaze raked Luke, then shot to Sofie. "My mama raised me to believe a man of the cloth."
 
He shrugged and gave her a crooked grin that made Luke's blood run Vulcan green. "He tellin' the truth, ma'am?"

      
Sofie nodded. "Yes, this is Father Salazar, and I'm Sofie."

      
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Sofie."
 
The marshal inclined his head politely, then faced Luke again. "Father, you know where I can find Zeke Judson now?"

      
Helplessly, Luke shot Ab a questioning glance. The last thing Luke wanted was to betray Zeke, yet the Marshal's presence in Redemption pretty well settled things once and for all. "I'm not sure," Luke said truthfully.

      
"Well, I'll call at the mayor's house again then."

      
"No need."

      
The figure looming in the doorway behind Marshal Weathers stood tall and proud.

      
"Zeke, no..."
 
Ab's voice broke as he faced his old friend. "I won't let–"

      
"Too late, Ab."
 
Zeke didn't even flinch while the marshal stared at him. "I figgered you'd catch up with me sooner or later, Sam. Well, here I be."

      
"Zeke, it's been a few years."
 
The marshal had his back to Luke and Sofie now, but he was still an imposing figure, especially with those guns strapped to his hips. "I'm sorry I have to do this, but..."

      
"Yep, I know."
 
Zeke gave the marshal a sad smile. "Like I done told the
Padre
, I'm ready to turn myself in now anyway, with the missus gone."

      
The lawman nodded. "I'm sorry to hear about your loss, Zeke."

      
"When do we leave?"

      
Silence filled the room until the swinging door signaled Dora's return. To her credit, the woman waited quietly.

      
"Breakin' in a new mount, and he bruised a hoof comin' up the pass," Marshal Weathers said in a slow drawl. "Lucifer's gonna need a few days, maybe a week, to mend."

      
"Fair 'nuff."

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