Reclaiming His Past (15 page)

They'd played for hours. Other campers brought chairs and blankets and settled in to listen, which had made him self-conscious. As if sensing his unease, Jessica had caught his eye and smiled her encouragement. The pure pleasure in her face made his worries disappear and his heart expand with happiness.

The guilt and sorrow so prevalent in her had receded. He couldn't take credit for the change. He'd only said what others had likely tried to say countless times before. She just hadn't been ready to hear and accept the truth until now. In this instance, the fact he was an outsider had actually been a good thing.

Grant prayed she'd be able to move forward with her life, pursue dreams that were important to her. Leaving her wasn't going to be easy, he realized. He'd miss her.

He liked her and her family. Liked her charming mountain town.

Perhaps she'd agree to exchange letters.

His spirit heavy at the prospect of never seeing any of them again, he returned to his tent and, lighting a lamp, dug in his travel bag for his Bible. His fingers encountered an unusual bump in the lining. Removing the items one by one and placing them on his pallet, he squinted into the bag. There weren't any rips in the seams. Running his hand flat against the bottom, he frowned. Something was in there.

Pulse skipping, he located his pocketknife and worked open the seam along the long side. He peeled the lining away. The air inside the tent seemed to constrict, cutting off the oxygen. His throat closed.

Black velvet pouches. Four of them.

Dread spread like black ink from his chest into every part of his body.

Fingers trembling, he dumped the contents of the first pouch onto his bedding. Gold and precious gems winked up at him. Necklaces. Ruby rings. Diamond bracelets. Emptying the rest, he lifted the most ornate piece and held it on his palm. The brooch's pearls glowed in the circle of light, the diamonds scattered rainbow-hued prisms. These pieces couldn't be fake.

Closing his fist around it, he didn't register the sharp edges cutting into his skin.

He slumped over, his forehead resting against the bed, and fought the resurging panic. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his heart pumped so hard it actually hurt.

He was a thief. There could be no other explanation. He'd stolen these jewels—too many to have come from one source, which meant he was a professional thief—and hidden them in this bag. The stranger in his dream? Probably his cohort demanding his share of the bounty. Maybe Grant had tried to swindle him out of it, and that's why he'd been attacked and left for dead.

God, how can this be? I don't feel like a criminal. This is the last thing I wanted.

But the evidence was right there in his hand.

Jessica was right. Her first instincts were spot-on.

Grant felt ill. Head throbbing, he replaced the jewels, all the while considering running. He could travel to another town and drop the travel bag at a bank or jail. Or a church. That would work. A pastor would make sure they were returned to the authorities and from there the rightful owners. He'd keep moving until he was hundreds of miles from here. He could find odd jobs along the way. Of course, he'd have to make up a sympathetic story, adding deception to his list of sins.

Extinguishing the light, he crawled into bed. The thread of optimism he'd been clinging to snapped, and he was left with ugly reality.

Chapter Fifteen

“I
wish we didn't have to go,” Jessica said. “I wish we could stay for another week.”

Juliana's eyes were wet. “The time passed too fast.”

The clearing was abuzz with activity. While some families would be staying on, many were packing up and heading home, their wagons jammed full of chestnuts to be sold at market.

Evan came up behind Juliana and, snaking his arms around her middle, nuzzled her cheek. For a brief moment, she closed her eyes and leaned into him, a tiny sigh escaping.

“We'll plan a visit to Gatlinburg soon,” he promised.

Twisting in his arms, she encircled his neck. “Can we go for Thanksgiving?”

The smile he bestowed on her spoke of deep affection. “For you, I'll make it happen.”

Jessica darted a glance in Grant's direction. Waiting beside their wagon at the clearing's edge, he shifted his stance, his gaze constantly moving about the crowd. With his beard heavier than usual, his good looks had a rough edge to them. He'd been tense and standoffish since breakfast. After their time in the forest and hours of making music together, his attitude stung. She'd replayed those tender moments in his arms a thousand times. It amazed her that an outsider had been the one to dismantle her self-recrimination.

He's not an outsider anymore, is he? He's a treasured friend. And I can't stop wondering what it would be like to be more.

“How about a goodbye hug for your brother-in-law?”

Snapped out of her reverie, she embraced Evan. “We'll see you next month?”

When Evan committed to something, he followed through. Grant was dependable like that. Honorable. A man worthy of her trust and admiration.

Evan smiled. “Lord willing, we'll be there.”

Juliana watched her husband lope over to speak to Caleb. Her suddenly troubled expression put Jessica in mind of that odd moment from before. Suspicion surfaced. “What's wrong?”

Her hand pressed against her heart, she frowned. “He's keeping secrets, Jess. I can hardly believe it of him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I first noticed something was off about a month ago. He started spending an inordinate amount of time with his cousin, Lucas. They'd talk for hours, and when I asked what they'd discussed, he refused to say.” She frowned, twisting her wedding band about her finger. “Since we've been here, he's been glued to Caleb's side. I'm worried, Jess. We've never hidden our problems from each other.”

Jessica didn't have sage advice to dispense. Her one serious relationship had been based on lies. “What are you going to do?”

“I've given him plenty of time to confess.” Jerking her chin up a notch, she said, “I'm tired of waiting. I'm going to confront him during the trip home. That way, he can't duck into the barn to fix a tool or come up with an excuse to avoid me. There'll be no escape.”

Jessica hugged her tight. “I'll be praying. Just remember, he loves you. Whatever he's keeping from you, he has good intentions.”

Juliana pressed her lips together. “I'm sure he believes he's doing the right thing, but secrets have a way of destroying a relationship.”

“You don't have to tell me that,” she said drily.

“I'm sorry. I didn't think.”

“It's fine.” Her focus gravitated to Grant. “I've made a promise to myself. My next relationship will be based on openness and trust and mutual respect.”

Juliana followed her line of sight. “I like him, Jess.”

“Oh, no, you misunderstand. I wasn't talking about him. I—”

She touched her wrist. “You're forgetting I'm your older sister. I can see how much you like him. He feels the same, judging from the way he looks at you.”

“I'd be crazy to pursue a relationship with him, Jules.”

Her assessment turned sly. “That's what I told myself about falling for an outlaw.”

“But Evan wasn't an outlaw.”

“I didn't know that until
after
I fell in love with him.”

Sensing Grant's perusal, she shifted her gaze and, sure enough, he was staring right at her. Blushing as if he'd overheard the entire exchange, she lifted a finger to let him know she'd be a minute more.

“I love you, sis.” She gave her hand a squeeze. “Write to me as soon as you get home. I want to know what Evan has to say for himself.”

“I will.”

Weaving through the throng of people, she made her way to Grant's side. “I'm ready.”

His hat shaded his eyes. The lower half of his face was in direct sunlight, his sculpted mouth bracketed by irritated lines. With a terse nod, he took her elbow and assisted her onto the high seat. She set her straw hat on the space beside her and straightened her skirts. Grant climbed up, not sparing her another glance as he put the team in motion. Behind them, the conveyance's bed was tightly packed.

“Where's Will?”

“Riding with Caleb.” He waved a gloved hand in the direction of her cousin's wagon not far from theirs. “Would you like to switch places?”

“And leave you with all the treasure?”

His head whipped round. “Treasure?”

“The chestnuts.”

His Adam's apple bobbed. Lips forming a flat line, he returned his attention to navigating the team through the crowd to the winding, uneven route down the mountain.

“They do bring a good price, especially with the impending holidays.”

He grunted, his profile marble-like as he concentrated. Jessica didn't speak again until they'd left the campsite far behind and the trail wasn't quite so hazardous.

“What's bothering you, Grant?”

His forearms flexed. “Just eager to get back, is all.”

He wouldn't even look at her, which sparked her temper. What was his problem? “You're not a very good liar, you know.”

His blue eyes were stormy when they finally met hers. “History has proved you're not such a good judge of that.”

Jessica gasped. His words dug beneath her skin like stubborn splinters.

Regret splashed across his features, but he didn't retract his well-aimed barb or apologize. Facing forward, he proceeded to ignore her, a muscle jerking in his unshaven jaw.

Dizzy with hurt, she put her hat on and averted her face, staring unseeing at the passing scenery. Pain blossomed in the area around her heart. How could he do that? After she'd let him in, confessed her darkest moments, made herself vulnerable? The tenderness he'd shown her, the compassion...had it been a mirage?

No. He hadn't faked it. Sometime during the night, he must've thought through all she'd told him and come to the conclusion that she was to blame, after all.

A small voice inside rebelled.

I can't go back there, God. I can't live bearing this guilt, day in and day out.

No matter what Grant Parker thinks of my actions.

* * *

Grant deserved to be thrashed for what he'd done.

Consumed by his own misery, he'd lashed out at her in the worst possible way. He'd taken her private shame and used it to wound her. To force her attention elsewhere. If she'd continued to question him, he would've caved and told her about the jewels.

He wouldn't soon forget the hurt shimmering in her eyes. She'd remained quiet and unmoving, her focus turned inward, until they pulled off to the side around six o'clock for a break and quick supper. When it was time to head out, Will had climbed into Grant's wagon, mumbling something about grouchy females. Grant had caught Caleb's perplexed frown as Jessica made herself at home in his wagon.

Directing the team onto Alice's farm hours later, he told himself again it was best this way. They'd been growing too close. When the truth was finally revealed, she'd thank him.

He refused to be like that snake Lee Cavanaugh, refused to willingly inflict further hurt.

Caleb surprisingly didn't question him. No doubt impatient to get home to his wife and sons, he didn't disembark once Jessica had descended.

Will yawned. “Let's unpack tomorrow morning.”

“Fine with me. I'll see to the horses,” Grant said.

The younger man gave him a hearty nod and ambled toward the cabin. When Jessica passed within inches of where Grant stood, he shot out a hand and grazed her upper arm with his fingertips. She jerked away, glaring at him.

“What do you want?”

Good. He could deal with her anger. What he couldn't handle was her sadness, especially knowing he'd caused it.

“Can I borrow Galahad?”

“What for?”

“I have an errand that can't wait.”

Emotion flashed, but she clamped it down, shrugging. “Do what you want.” Spinning on her heel, she left him there, aching for a different outcome.

Any illusions of a promising future shattered, he parked the wagon inside the barn and unhitched the team. Once he had the animals brushed down, watered and fed, he saddled Galahad. The travel bag in his possession, he rode for town, praying Shane Timmons was in his office. He couldn't pass another night with this terrible secret hanging over his head.

The streets were empty. Most folks were snug in their homes at this late hour, preparing for bed. He hitched Galahad beside the sheriff's mount. A light burned through the bare window.

Seated at his desk, Shane looked up in surprise at Grant's entrance.

“I've been wanting to speak with you,” he said, laying down his pencil.

Grant dropped the bag on his desk and folded his arms. “What about?”

“It can wait.” He nodded to the bag. “What's this?”

“I found something hidden in the lining, and you're not going to like it.”

A frown line marring his forehead, the other man stood to inspect the contents. As the jewels spilled across the scarred desktop, Grant felt like a man sentenced to be tossed into the ocean, a sack of rocks tied about his neck. He was doomed.

He whistled. “When did you discover these?”

“Last night at the campsite.”

“Do you recognize them?” His gaze pinned him in place.

“No.”

Shane continued to inspect the various pieces until Grant thought he would crawl out of his skin. “So which cell is to be mine?” He strove for humor and failed. “I'd like a street view, if available.”

Hands on his hips, the sheriff quirked a brow. “I have no cause to hold you, Parker.”

Grant snorted, waved his hand over the bounty. “This isn't reason enough?”

“We aren't sure if this bag even belongs to you.”

“I thought you'd seize the opportunity to keep me away from the O'Malleys.”

“A guilty man wouldn't have brought this in. A dishonest man would've kept it for himself.”

“That's just it. We don't know what kind of man I am.”

Sinking onto his chair, Shane motioned for Grant to take a seat. “I've come up with a theory. Wanna hear it?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Let's say I'm out rounding up bad guys and get knocked on the head, losing most of my memories in the process. Am I then going to become a wholly different man? Lying, cheating, stealing. Would amnesia alter my basic personality?”

Grant rubbed at a stubborn stain on his pant leg, mulling over his words.

Steepling his hands atop his chest, the sheriff continued, “I'm having a tough time accepting that prior to your accident, you were a base-minded opportunist out for number one, and now you're suddenly a law-abiding citizen. That's why, when I heard you were interested in the livery job, I had a chat with Warring.”

His head came up. “How did you know about that?”

“Same way I know Jessica kissed you in the middle of Main Street.”

That spontaneous kiss on the cheek? “No secrets in small towns.”

“That's right.”

“Warring's not inclined to take a chance on me. And with this most recent development, I can understand why.”

“He's changed his mind. You can start tomorrow if you're so inclined.” Pushing his chair back, he began to replace the jewels. “I'll keep this with me overnight, then place it in the bank's safe first thing tomorrow morning. Looks like I'll be posting more letters.”

Removing the folded paper from his pocket, he held it out. “I've remembered someone who I suspect might be linked to my former life. There's a crude sketch, as well as a list of details.”

Unfolding it, Shane scanned the information. “I'll check his likeness against my stuff here, then send it out with my other correspondence.” When Grant didn't move, he waved to the door. “You're free to go, Parker.”

Grant had come here expecting to be locked up. Not only was he going to remain free, but the sheriff had used his influence to get him a job. “Why would you help me?”

“Everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves.” He flicked him a glance. “Besides, you can't leave town without money. I figure this is the best way to be rid of you.”