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“You’re correct about that, Mr. Haddock.” Constable Stanford stated. “The boy does have a name, but I don’t believe its Peter.”
She felt the sheriff’s eyes staring hard down at her.
“Boy, I want you to tell me what you know about that fire up there in the mountains.”
“Oh, he can’t speak Constable.” Prescott informed the official as if he accidentally missed this tidbit of information.
“Prescott.” Wade’s voice stilled his brother. “Let the constable conduct his investigation.”
“Investigation?” Prescott sounded dubious. “What investigation? Peter knows nothing about this.”
“You see, Mr. Haddock, that’s where I think you might be wrong.” All the while she knew his attention had not faltered from her face. She had not looked up, but could feel his gaze boring into her. There was an odd sense he was seeing through her facade. “I believe your Peter here does know something and would be a great benefit to my investigation.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Prescott was not convinced. “You saw the people in the village up there. Peter could not have possibly had anything to do with it. Wade, tell him.”
His words sent a painful blow to her chest. She felt the color drain from her face while her vision wavered in front of her. Wade must have noticed for she heard him say, “Christ, Prescott. Don’t be so damned careless with your words.”
“Lord,” his brother cried. “I didn’t think.”
“I think that’s enough for now, Stanford. The boy has obviously just received a shock.”
But the constable wasn’t dissuaded so easily. He reached out and snatched her slender shoulders between his large callused hands. “Answer me, boy!”
“Jesus Christ,” Wade shouted, reaching out to pull her from the lawman’s grasp. “I said that was enough.”
With the constable’s hands still gripping her shoulders, she was violently shaken before Wade was able to snatch her away and haul her out of the barn and toward the house. She heard him holler at the lawman to get the hell off his property and Prescott’s own choice of words requesting the same, if not slightly less crude. However, it was the constable’s parting words that engraved themselves on her brain.
“What the hell happened on that mountain, boy?”
Chapter 6
He was walking so fast, she had to run just to keep up, her arm still in his death grip. Once up at the house he flung open the large wooden door dragging her behind him. He was still cursing and still very mad. Anna just didn’t know exactly who it was directed at.
“Have a seat boy.” His voice was harsh but not necessarily directed at her. “Dammit, I knew not to let him speak to you until after I had.”
She felt convulsions running up and down her body.
Wade’s eyes finally focused on her and cursed once more. “You’re cold. Sit here while I get a fire started.”
Obediently she sat in the oversized chair next to the equally oversized hearth.
“Listen, kid, don’t let what Stanford said upset you.” He spoke to her while quickly lighting the logs already in the fireplace. “He’s leaving. Prescott is escorting him off the property now.”
She felt more shudders rip throughout her body. Wade looked over and noticed. “Christ, you’re freezing.”
She was freezing. After all, she had spent a major part of the day waiting by the river. But her shudders had more to do with all she had endured in the past twenty-four hours than the actual cold climate.
“Let me get you something to drink.” He got to his feet and went over to a cabinet. “Ever had bourbon?”
She shook her head.
“It will warm your insides up real fast.” He filled a glass half full of some amber liquid then handed it to her.
Taking the offered drink, she proceeded to take a gulp. Anna was grateful he had turned his back to tend the fire and missed her automatic reaction to the potent drink. She had never tasted anything so foul.
“I know you think you’re responsible for what happened up there,” he said. “But you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Words meant to comfort only added to the confusion. She may not have the memories, but she had the emotions. They were real and she knew what they meant.
