Chapter Nineteen
T he fort never slept.
All night long, Levi gazed up at a starless sky, listening to the cacophony of drunken, raucous laughter, whores plying their trade, brawls, hooves on dirt, and gunshots. He breathed in the dung, the blood, the mud, and the piss. It seeped into the soil of this godforsaken place, forever becoming a part of it.
How long had it been since they set off on this never-ending journey? Four months? He’d grown so fucking weary of it. And as weary as he was, sleep should’ve claimed him the moment he closed his eyes, despite the sounds, the stink, and the cold, hard earth he’d lain upon.
He could tell himself he remained awake to ensure no harm came to his sisters, and while indeed that was true, Levi gazed across the camp at the object of his utmost desire and the overwhelming source of his restlessness.
“If you want my Lucy as your wife, then you’ll be weddin’ my Fallon, too.”
Walker couldn’t have meant it. Why, the notion alone was preposterous. Like them crazy Mormons. Booted out of Ohio, Illinois, and Missouri, they’d heard the polygamist followers of Joseph Smith were staking their claim farther west in the Utah Territory desert, and there they’d build their Zion. He’d seen them along the trail. Men, young and old, with twenty wives a piece, proselytizing their faith.
It wasn’t his.
She raised her head. Wisps of sable blowing with the wind, her golden eyes locked on his. Men milled about the camp. Shoshone and Bannock, trappers, traders, godless and god-fearing men alike, walked past Lucy as if she wasn’t there. But powerless under her gaze, Levi went to her.
“You spoke to my father.” It wasn’t a question.
“I did, but…” He wasn’t sure what to say or how to go about it.
“I love you, Levi, and this is what I want.” She grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, bringing his forehead down to hers. “A life with you and my sister.”
“Why?”
“It is the way of my mother’s people,” she simply said.
Taking a step back, Levi pulled away. “Do you understand what you’re asking of me?”
“Do you love me?”
“You know I do.”
Her lips quirked up. “Then what else is there for me to understand?”
“You want me to lie with her, to bed her, and put children in her belly?” His words louder than he intended, Levi brought her to the fencepost, raking his fingers through his hair.
She cupped his face, tenderly stroking his beard. “Yes, and the love we have will be even stronger for it.”
“How?” And with his hand on Lucy’s, he stilled hers.
“The earth says so. The spirit says so.” She kissed his lips. “My father has seen it come to pass.”
His brows drawing together, he cocked his head.
“It’s the nature of the universe. Heavens, waters, and earth. Mind, body, and spirit. Even your Christian faith teaches the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.” Pawing his chest, Lucy smiled up at him. “Everything that comes in threes is perfect.”
Jesus .
“I’m not like them.”
“Like who?”
Brigham Young and his Nauvoo Legion, or whatever the fuck it is they call themselves .
“Those Mormons.”
“Good, because it will only ever be us three.” She leaned in, gently biting her lip, and laid her head on his shoulder. “You, and Fallon, and I.”
“Oh, so that’s how it works?”
“Yes, silly.” His question was rhetorical. She answered it, anyway. “Brothers share a wife. Sisters share a husband. Cousins, sometimes. It’s how impenetrable community is built.”
“We’d be shunned, Lucy. Ostracized. The very thing you fear.” Levi had to make her see reason, to cast aside this foolishness. They ways of her mother’s people would never be accepted in this world.
“Would we be, though?” She combed his hair with her fingers, gazing up at him with hope-filled eyes. “In a new, unspoiled land, a place where we can all live a life of our own choosing?”
Isn’t that what they’d left the East and everything they’d ever known behind them for?
“Wild and free.”
“As the earth intended.” And she smiled.
But Levi knew better. “It doesn’t work that way.”
“It can and it does, I promise you.”
He held her chin, tracing the outline of her lips with his thumb. “Lucy…”
“Talk with my sister.” She turned her head to kiss his fingers. “Then, you’ll see.”
How could he say no?
He waited for her at the river.
She came to him like an offering.
“ Behne .” Hello.
“Fallon.” While rubbing his jaw, Levi tipped his chin. “You’re agreeing to this?”
“Yes.” Her smile tremulous, she looked up at him with eyes of warm chocolate suede. Shimmering with flecks of cinnamon and honey, he could see every broken promise, every wish left behind, untold and unheard, within the soulful orbs.
Fearing he’d get so lost in them he’d never find his way out, Levi lowered his gaze to see her breasts heaving beneath the thin, worn cotton of her gown.
Christ .
“How old are you?” he asked. Anything to keep himself from touching her.
“Eighteen.”
Then she reached for him, and it all went to hell. Fallon bent his head at the neck, and bringing his lips to meet hers, she kissed him. God’s blood . Unexpectedly, his cock sprang to life in his breeches. Giving in to his baser nature, Levi reached inside her bodice and, fondling her breast, his thumb flicked over her nipple. She whimpered, making no attempt to remove his hand from her person. And considering that her acquiescence, he freed them from the confines of their cotton prison to reverently gaze upon them.
“Do you have a Shoshone name, Fallon?”
“ Kimana .”
Beautiful, like you .
“What does it mean?”
“Butterfly.”
Then she lowered his head to her breast.
He took her nipple into his mouth.
Mine .
The morning sky appeared heavy and gray, as if the clouds were still deciding whether or not to open up on them. Jake listened to the crunch of snow beneath the Lariat’s tires, and glancing at his dad in the passenger seat, he curled his arm around Emily. If he was right, and he was pretty darn sure he was, dark days were looming ahead.
His father felt it, too.
It was written all over his face.
Just as Levi and Elijah had been, from the time they were small, Victor Gantry and Matthew Brooks were the best of friends—tight, like brothers. When Amanda Jacoby passed away within days of Kellan’s birth, everyone just thought it tragic, and undoubtedly, it was, but then her sister, Heather, suffered the same fate three months later, soon after Tanner was born. Double tragedy? Coincidence? Neither the grieving widower nor his father thought so.
The midwife couldn’t explain it, and the old doc, long since dead now, figured the girls had the same weak heart or some such bullshit. Victor was in med school at the time, but he wasn’t buying it. Left with two babies to raise on his own, Matthew didn’t either.
And to make the strange occurrences even stranger, instead of supporting his grandsons and their father, John Jacoby ran around telling anyone who would listen that Matthew was responsible for their deaths.
Folks came up with their own conclusions.
Matthew Brooks wasn’t the one to blame.
Now, over two decades later, with Jennifer’s death under the same circumstances, it was a certainty.
Jake knew who was responsible. His father, Matthew, and Emily’s mom knew, too. Proving it would be an altogether different, and perhaps impossible, story, but they had to at least try. Three women were already dead. The psycho was targeting a baby now, and Brooksiders saw to their own.
Emily pointed out the windshield. “Isn’t that Justin’s car?”
“It is. I asked him to meet us here.” Stretching out his arm behind Emily, his father nudged his shoulder. “Pull in behind him, Jake.”
Blowing in his hands to warm them, Justin paced the length of his ruby-red Porsche Macan that he bought just because it was fun, and because it was big enough to carry large pieces of artwork in.
“It’s fucking cold out here,” he said before pecking his father on the lips. “How’s the girl?”
“A little shaken, but she’s fine.” As if the peck weren’t enough, Victor kissed Justin once more. Even after twenty-five years of marriage, they couldn’t keep their hands off one another. “Now, show me.”
“Nobody has gone up this driveway.” Justin led the way and crouched down in front of the snow-covered drive. “See that? Two sets of tire tracks—identical treads, mind you—come down and turn in the direction of Kim’s.”
“Makes sense,” Emily said, huddled underneath Jake’s arm. “The boys have matching TRXs.”
He held her close against him, doing his best to keep her warm. “Arien drove one. She took Tanner’s truck. Kellan drove the other.”
“This third set must be Matthew’s from when he left for the airport,” his father said.
Emily glanced around, as if looking for an answer. “But if nobody drove up, then how did he get in?”
Some other way .
“Should we call the sheriff or somebody?”
“We can handle this, Emily.” Jake squeezed her shoulders to reassure her. “Let’s go up to the house.”
Justin surveyed the scene, taking pictures on his phone like he was the lead detective on CSI . Under any other circumstances, it might’ve been funny. “We’re lookin’ for footprints. Be careful where you walk.”
None were found at the front door.
The side door from the kitchen out to the barns was a mess.
And Arien’s bare footprints went from the deck down to the drive.
“Well, yeehaw,” Justin whooped. “Will you look at this?”
A set of large footprints—a man’s size twelve, unless he was mistaken—came out of the trees to the French door in the living room and went back out again.
“My guess is whoever these belong to came in from the stream,” Victor said as Justin followed the trail toward the woods, taking photos along the way.
Jake turned to follow his uncle. “I’ll go check.”
“We will, son. I want to look inside the house first.” And his father reined him in. “Emily, do you know if that baby monitor records?”
“I’m not sure, but I think so.”
He prayed it did. It was their best shot, and likely their only shot, to get the evidence they were looking for.
“Looks like the asshole had the decency to wipe his feet. There’s not a smudge of a footprint or a melted puddle of snow anywhere,” Justin muttered, coming in behind them.
Up the stairs and to the right, they made their way over to Matthew’s wing of the house, of which there were four. The house had stood here for generations, added on to and renovated throughout the years. There were twenty bedrooms here once, but families were much larger way back when. It was a necessity for survival.
As if he were in there sleeping, they crept into Benjamin’s room. A woodland forest was painted on the walls. A plush bear rug covered the floor. Stuffed toy rabbits, foxes, and deer waited in a playhouse teepee. An empty rocking chair sat in the corner. Jake glanced at the adjoining door that connected the nursery to Matthew’s suite. It hit him then. Jennifer did all this . For a son, she hardly had the chance to hold.
Emily went to the dresser. “It does record.”
“Play it.” And Jake held his breath.
Huddled together, the four of them watched a figure, dressed all in black and wearing a hood, enter the room, and then, finding the crib empty, he left through the connecting door.
“Who the fuck is that?” Her hands trembling, terror laced Emily’s voice.
Justin pursed his lips. “I have a hunch.”
Jake looked at his father.
His father looked at him.
They said his name together, “John Jacoby.”