Page 55 of Tempest at Annabel's Lighthouse
To battle for her.
Footsteps alerted Rebecca to Abel’s return. He entered, a steaming mug of tea in one hand and a long-handled copper bed warmer in the other. He slid the warmer beneath the blankets and then helped to prop pillows behind Rebecca so she could receive the mug of tea.
“Do you have much pain?” Abel’s eyes were gentle, but as he took inventory of her raw wrists, they darkened.
Rebecca allowed the sip of hot tea to soothe its way down her throat and warm her insides. “My body is sore, bruised,” she answered.
“But is there pain...?” Abel stuttered to a halt. He met her eyes. “In your ... where the babe is.”
It was a tender subject, but Rebecca was startled to realize she’d forgotten her pregnancy for the moment. Escape had been foremost on her mind, followed by the acceptance of death. The baby fled her thoughts in the traumatic moments of earlier.
“I-I think I’m all right. I think the baby’s all right too.” She didn’t know, of course, not really. And she didn’t know what she should feel on a normal day of being an expectant mother when the child inside her kicked or squirmed.
“Who did this?” Abel’s voice was grave. He hadn’t released her hand, and his thumb brushed over her knuckles in a possessive sort of way she didn’t understand or expect.
“Two men.” Rebecca was thankful that at least this time her mind had not erased the abuse. “A man named Mercer, and another who goes by the name Bear.”
Abel’s jaw tightened. “All right.”
She knew then there was no law in the area, no real authority Abel could seek out on her behalf. She also knew that on hearing their names, it had confirmed whatever information Abel possessed and had not shared with her.
“Who are they?” She drew her hand away from Abel’s.
Abel swallowed, clearing his throat. “Did they tell you what they wanted—why they took you?”
“They asked me to tell them where I’d put the papers.”
Abel frowned. “The papers?”
Rebecca shook her head, thankful that the bed warmer had ceased the involuntary shivers. “I don’t know. I can’t remember. They thought I was lying.”
“But you weren’t?” Abel looked sheepish the minute he asked.
“I wasn’t lying.” Rebecca gritted through her teeth, hurt and suddenly irritated that Abel would even raise the question she might be pretending her memory was lost. “But I—do I have a brother?”
Abel froze.
Rebecca held the tea between her palms, and a protectivenesswashed over her. She did. She could see on Abel’s face that he knew him too. “Aaron,” Rebecca supplied.
Abel stared at her.
“If they hurt Aaron, it will be all my fault.” Rebecca set the mug on a side table and struggled to free herself from the blankets.
“Rebecca.” Abel pressed gently on her shoulders to push her back against the pillows. “You’re in no condition to help him.”
“But you knew I had a brother,” she accused, unable to quench the ferocity that filled her. A ferocity she would have expected to feel for her unborn child but was so raw and visceral when it came to Aaron, the young man she could barely see in her mind.
Abel raked his hand through his hair, agitated, his breath expelling shakily. “We’re trying to keep you safe, Rebecca. And I don’t know what happened. The attack you suffered was horrific and—”
“What are the papers they’re asking for?” Rebecca demanded.
Abel looked bewildered. “I don’t know.”
“And my brother, where is he?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know that either.”
“Whatdoyou know? Tell me!” Rebecca slammed her fists against the mattress, glaring at the man who eyed her with caution and not a little wariness. Something had awakened in her, and while it wasn’t all clear, she knew. She knew what she had to say. Leaning toward Abel, she clenched her teeth. “You loved your sister. We both loved Kjersti. So why should I have any less devotion to my own brother? Why would you keep him from me?”
