Page 40 of Loved to Death

1882, Eugene, Oregon

Thomas awoke to the familiar presence of pressure all around. He dug himself out of the shallow grave, dusted off, unwrapped the bundle of clothing he’d hidden under some brush, and got dressed. He’d spent the night in the wooded back fields of his parents’ property hoping that he could make it to the house and catch a glimpse of the children before they were put to bed.

He made his way out of the woods to the maintained grounds around the large house. He could see the light from the windows spilling out onto the lawn, so he knew the curtains hadn’t yet been drawn. He positioned himself so he could look into the sitting-room window but made certain not to step into the light.

Thomas’ breath caught in his chest as he caught sight of his sweet mother darning a pair of child-sized socks. He instinctively took a step forward, but then froze when a woman came into the sitting room with a little boy at her side.

There was no mistaking that wavy auburn hair, even when it was up in a bun. Thomas had run his fingers through that hair countless times. With the navy-blue dress and hairstyle, Sarah looked as though she belonged in the opulent room rather than Rusty’s Saloon where he used to bed her and Jeffrey.

Sarah let go of the boy’s hand and Thomas Jr. went to give Elizabeth a hug and kiss. She showed him the socks and the two talked for a few moments.

Thomas’ eyes narrowed in on the child. He looked to be six or seven years old, with blond hair, a straight nose, and bright hazel eyes, just like his. The boy certainly could be his child, but Sarah was popular at Rusty’s. Had she taken advantage of his mother’s grief all those years ago? Did he even want to know? His mother looked happy, so maybe it didn’t matter.

“Thomas?”

Thomas spun around. His brother stood in the grass several feet behind him. Thankfully, there was no rifle in his brother’s hands.

“Samuel.”

“What areyoudoing here?” Samuel’s lip curled in disgust. “Get off our property before I get a gun and run you off again.”

Thomas had to bite his tongue and take a deep breath before responding. “I read about father’s death and”—he looked back toward the window—“read the name Thomas Jr.”

“So you found out she’d had a boy and came home to visit your widow?” Samuel scoffed.

“Widow?” Thomas’ eyebrows furrowed as he turned back to his brother, trying to understand.

“You died, Thomas. I helped carry your dead body into the house when they brought you home. Sarah is yourwidow, not your wife, and you were dead well before the child was born, so you have no claim on him.”

Thinking fast, Thomas nodded. He wasn’t sure how Sarah had made the family believe they were wed, but he was proud of her for having done it. “I understand. I’m not here to claim what is mine. I just wanted to see him with my own eyes.”

“Well, you’ve seen him. Now leave.”

His dead heart ached and his head shook. “I want to meet him.”

“Meet him? You’re a monster, Thomas. Not dead. Not alive. No way in hell is that child getting anywhere near you.”

“He’smyson.”

“Hewasyour son. Stop thinking of yourself and think of the child. How would meeting you benefit him?”

Looking down at his feet, Thomas forced himself to think logically instead of letting his emotions take over.

“Do the right thing for once in your life,” Samuel said, aggravation lacing his tone.

Thomas winced before slowly nodding. Seeing the child wouldn’t be best for Thomas Jr. “Fine,” he agreed softly. “But I want to speak to Sarah before I leave.”

“No.”

Thomas glared at Samuel. All of the anger he’d had for his older brother came rushing back. “You send her out to speak with me or I’ll go in and find her. You should know from experience that bullets won’t stop me. Do you want the women and children to see us fighting? I promise you, I’ll be the victor if it comes to that.” Samuel’s heart rate increased and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

“If I agree, you’ll leave after speaking with her?” Samuel asked.

“I will.”

“And never return?”

It took a moment, but Thomas nodded. “I’ll never return.”

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