The Spinster (Emerson Pass Historicals 2)

I stood with Isak and Harley outside, all of us stomping our feet to stay warm. Josephine came out to stand with us. She immediately started shivering. I took off my coat and wrapped her up, then put an arm around her shoulder to draw her close to my side. “Are you all right?” I asked.

She rested her head against my shoulder. “I am now. I’m so sorry for all this. Isak, the last thing I wanted was for anyone to get hurt because of my poor judgment. I’m mortified and so very sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Isak said, gruffly. “I’m glad Viktor was there and that things went the way they did.”

“I’ve never been more frightened in my life,” Josephine said. “Your poor mother and I were huddled together, both of us shaking like a leaf. Walter paced back and forth while holding the gun on us, muttering to himself. He had no plan. The shop was the only one with a light on. Then, all of a sudden, Viktor tore out of the back of the shop.” Josephine gave us a tremulous smile. “He barreled right into Walter, with no fear and like a bear. They struggled for what seemed like an hour. The gun went off, hitting Viktor in the shoulder. Despite that, Viktor had the foresight to bite Walter’s hand. Walter dropped the gun, and like lightning, Viktor grabbed it. Shot him right through the chest.” She pressed her fingers against her mouth for a second before continuing. “I’d never seen anyone die before. He looked surprised for a moment and then crumpled to the ground. The light faded from his eyes and then went blank.”

“We’ve seen it like that too,” Isak said.

“Too many times,” I said as I squeezed her tighter. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay Viktor.”

“I know what he wants,” Isak said, smiling. “He’s besotted with your Cymbeline. She’s all he ever talks about.”

“Truly?” Jo asked.

Isak nodded. “All about how Cymbeline did this and that and isn’t she perfection—that kind of thing.”

“Oh dear, that’s worrisome.” Josephine peeked up at me.

“Why?” Isak asked.

“She thinks of him as her nemesis,” Josephine said. “He’s angered her by being so good at the things she wishes she could do.”

“Well, you know what they say about that?” Isak asked, raising his eyebrows. “Strong feelings one way might indicate there’s more there than what she’s admitting to.”

Lord Barnes returned, bringing our discussion to a close. Seconds later, the doctor came out to ask if we might help Viktor into the sleigh and take him over to his medical office. “I’ll keep a watch on him tonight. Strong young man like this will be up and about in no time.” Dr. Neal explained that he’d given him a few tugs of whiskey for the pain and cleaned and sewn up the wound. “He’ll be fine as long as there’s no infection, which is less likely in my clinic.”

Viktor was sitting up with his mother by his side when we came inside to help. His color had greatly improved. He gave us a goofy grin.

“Hello, boys. Don’t look like that. I’m fine. Doc gave me some whiskey and I’m feeling no pain.” His words slurred slightly.

“You gave me a scare, little brother,” Isak said as we helped him to his feet.

“Nah, I’m too dumb and tough to die,” Viktor said.

With Mr. and Mrs. Olofsson trailing behind, we escorted Viktor into the back of the sleigh and tucked blankets around him. “You’ll come with me?” Viktor asked Isak.

“I’ll be there the whole time.” Isak climbed in beside him.

Dr. Neal came outside and walked over to the sleigh. He held up his hand to show us a bullet. “Found this lodged in the front of the counter. Went clean through you, Viktor, thank the good Lord above.”

Isak took it from him. “We’ll keep that as a memory of how brave my baby brother was tonight.”

“Yes, yes,” Mrs. Olofsson murmured as she wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Mother, please, go upstairs and rest,” Viktor said. “You’ve been through enough.”

Mr. Olofsson took his wife’s hand. “I’ll take her up and make her something hot to drink.”

“We’ll come see you in the morning,” Mrs. Olofsson said.

“He’ll be home in the morning if all goes as expected,” Dr. Neal said. “This is merely cautiousness on my part.”

A smaller sleigh driven by Cymbeline came speeding down the road. She slid to a stop and jumped to the ground, then grabbed Jo into her arms. “Jo, thank God. I was scared to death.” She let go and gasped when she saw Walter’s body on the ground. “Is he dead?”

“I shot him,” Viktor called out gleefully from the sleigh. “Saving your sister.”

“What? Viktor?” Cymbeline’s gaze darted to her supposed nemesis, then back to her sister. “Is it true?”