Page 72 of A Dangerous Heart
The blow stung, and tears spilled before she could stop them.
“Tell me!” he roared.
She blinked, trying to clear her vision. In a soft but firm voice that had Victor leaning in, she said, “I can’t tell you what I don’t know.” It was true. She’d left the room.
His next blow sent her spinning to the ground.
She lay in the dirt as blood flowed from her nose. Felt the bruise blooming at her right cheek bone. She’d have a black eye soon—not the first he’d given her. But this wasn’t the time to fight back. Not yet.
Victor loomed over her. “You bait? They coming for you?”
“No,” she croaked. The denial hit hard with all its truth. Isaac was gone. The McGraws were mounting a defense—for their family and legacy. No one was coming for her.
She was more alone than she’d ever been.
She straightened her shoulders as best she could. She couldn’t afford to let herself become distracted from her mission. Where was Eli? She couldn’t do anything before she knew where he was.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement from inside the nearest tent. A tent flap flicked, and Eli peeked out. Relief washed over Clare. She mouthed,Run.
The tent flap slipped back into place. Had he gotten her message?
Victor squatted at her shoulder and grabbed her braid, yanking her head up and back so that her scalp stung. “Anne filled your head with all that Bible nonsense, but I guess it didn’t stick.”
“Anne believed it was real. And Anne loved you. Her love was real, Victor. She was the only true thing you ever had in your life.”
For a fleeting moment, something passed through his eyes—regret, or maybe just a memory—but it hardened just as quickly. “You stole my boys!” he shouted.
A cold and merciless look met her eyes.
“One verse I do like is ‘An eye for an eye.’” He chuckled when an involuntary shiver racked her body.
“Where’s your yellow-bellied marshal?” he demanded with contempt.
“I took his money and left,” she lied. “He made for a terrible husband. Too many rules.”
Uncertainty crossed his expression. He let her hair go, and her head flopped down, forehead resting on her arms.
Run, Eli. Please run.
Victor nudged her side with his boot. “You’re a Barlow through and through. Like Pa said, ‘Blood will out.’”
Victor’s mocking of Anne brought the sting of tears. Anne had believed Clare could make a new life for herself, that she could rescue Eli and Ben from the future their father had dictated for them. But Clare wasn’t strong enough.
I think you’re more than the name you were born with, Clare.
Isaac’s words echoed in her mind. She’d read the story of Jacob again, how God had given him a new name—Israel—and a promise that stirred something deep in her soul.Fear not: for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by name; thou art mine.
Mine.She belonged to the Lord.
She was not Victor’s sister.
Not a Barlow. Not anymore.
The realization rooted deep and brought a ridiculous sense of peace. She pushed to her hands and knees.
“I’m not a Barlow,” she said, meeting Victor’s eyes. “I’m a McGraw.”
A subtle tremor crossed his hard face, revealing a loss of control. He kicked her in the side. “No, you ain’t.”
