Brave Beginnings (44 page)

She cried in relief and ran into his arms
which circled her in a protective hug. “You found me,” she sobbed,
unable to control the tears that ran down her cheeks and wet his
shirt. “I knew you’d find me.”

Stroking her back, he whispered, “There are
bruises on your face. Where else did he hurt you?”

She gulped and clung to him, knowing he
wouldn’t like the answer but realizing she had to tell him. “He hit
my arms and kicked me in the back and sides.”

His voice tense, he asked, “Did he do
anything more personal?”

It took her a moment to realize he meant
rape. “No, thank goodness.”

He held her tighter to him and brushed her
hair from her face and tilted her head back so he could get a
better look at her. “Do your arms, sides and back look like your
face?”

She noted the anger in his voice. Stepping
back from him, she pulled up her sleeves and showed him the series
of bruises on her arms. “I can only assume so. I haven’t been able
to look in a mirror at the other bruises.”

Their eyes met and they remained silent for a
long moment. He traced her lower lip which was still tender so she
winced. He took a deep breath and a tear trickled down his
cheek.

She clung to him again and buried her face in
his chest, comforted by his strength and love.

Mrs. Coley and Ann walked over to them, and
Mrs. Coley said, “We’re sorry to disturb you, but, Julia, can you
tell us what hotel you were in? I’ll go tell the marshal where to
apprehend Ernest.”

Wiping her eyes, Julia turned to the two
women and told them. “We were in room twenty-four.” Before Mrs.
Coley could leave, Julia reached for her hand. “And thank you, Mrs.
Coley, and thank you, Ann.”

Mrs. Coley smiled. “It’s the least we could
do.” She patted Julia’s hand and headed out.

Ann turned to them. “Why don’t you go to the
backroom and enjoy some time to yourselves. Once Ernest is no
longer a problem, it should be safe to leave.”

As Julia and Chogan turned to go to the
backroom, a young blond-haired man entered the store. “Ann, is
everything alright?” he asked as he ran over to her.

Ann looked startled. “Todd, aren’t you
supposed to work on the farm until sunset?”

He took off his hat and ran his fingers
through his hair. “I was in the barn and decided to see how you
were doing, but you weren’t home. You were supposed to be back
around two. I thought something bad happened so I came down here to
make sure you were alright.” He put the hat back on and glanced at
Julia and Chogan and tipped his hat. “Afternoon.” Then he turned
back to Ann. “You’re alright then?”

Ann smiled. “Yes, I’m fine. Todd, this is
Julia and Chogan. Julia and Chogan, this is my husband Todd.” After
the greetings were exchanged, she said, “I’ll take Todd out front
and leave you two to yourselves in the backroom.” She slipped her
arm around Todd’s and led him out of the store.

Chogan put his arm around Julia’s shoulders
and led her to the backroom where he sat down and pulled her onto
his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face
in the nape of his neck, still crying.

***

Ernest moaned as he tried to come out of
sleep. He shouldn’t be asleep. The last thing he remembered was
drinking a small cup of coffee. He groaned. The surface beneath him
was hard. Where was he?

As he struggled to figure out how he ended up
asleep on what felt like a floor, flashbacks from his past wove in
and out of his dreams. He saw her again. Patricia Wells. For a
time, she’d been Patricia Freeman. She looked so much like Julia,
which was why he had to have her. When he moved to Fargo, he
regretted not insisting that Julia come with him, and when he met
the bank owner’s daughter, Patricia, he thought he had another
chance.

It was easy to pretend Patricia was Julia,
and Patricia fell in love with him. They married, and for a time,
everything was perfect. He gave her gifts—things he knew Julia
would wear and she wore his tokens of affection. She was flattered
for a time that he spoiled her until he slipped and called her
Julia one night as they made love.

Then she learned of Julia and how his heart
would always belong to her. He was still faithful to Patricia, and
as long as she played along and dressed the part, things were
perfect. But it wasn’t good enough for her. It should have
been.

But she had to go and ruin it.

He frowned in his sleep as that fateful night
came rushing back to him. Killing her had been an accident. He
never intended for it to happen.

They’d been arguing. He came home from work
and found she had colored her hair a dark shade of brown. She’d
gone out and bought a dress that wasn’t Julia’s style, and she wore
necklaces and rings—both of which Julia never wore. Julia was never
flashy. She was modest and simple. And seeing the contrast between
Patricia and Julia sent him into an instant rage.

He slammed his briefcase on the table in the
parlor and turned to her. She stood behind the couch, her arms
crossed, her eyes focused on him in silent challenge.

“Put on another dress and take off those
jewels,” he ordered. “Then go to the beauty salon and get your hair
color back.”

She put her chin in the air. “I will
not.”

He took a step toward her and gritted his
teeth. “You will do exactly what I say.”

“Or what? You’ll make me?”

He ran for her, and in that moment, he knew
she feared him. She slipped from his reach and headed for the
stairs.

Stupid woman. If you’d just stayed in the
parlor, you’d be alive today.

Ernest shook his head in another attempt to
wake up, but sleep kept its hold on him, forcing him to continue
with the memory of that night.

He followed her up the stairs and to their
bedroom, and before she could lock him out, he thrust his foot into
the doorway and forced the door wide open.

She trembled and ran to the side of the bed
that was the furthest from him. “I’m not her! I’m not Julia!”

“Get in the clothes I gave you,” he said in a
deadly calm tone.

“I don’t like those clothes.”

“You liked them enough to wear them for the
past two years!”

“But I never really liked them,” she cried.
“I did it to make you happy, but it’s not me. It’ll never be
me.”

He hurried toward her, but she yelped and
crawled across the bed so she was, once again, on the other
side.

“Ernest, please. I just want to be who I
am.”

“I didn’t marry you to be you. I married you
to be Julia. You have a part to play, and you better play it.”

Shaking her head, she backed away from him as
he approached her. “I can’t be her.” She glanced over her shoulder
and shifted over so she was backing out of the bedroom. “Don’t you
love me at all?”

“I love you as Julia,” he seethed, unable to
believe Patricia was being stubborn about something so simple.
“Things have been good. They can continue to be good.”

Tears fell down her cheeks, and she shook her
head again. “But I can’t be me for that to happen.” She stepped
further into the hallway.

“Enough!” He lurched for her and grabbed her
hand before she could flee from him. Squeezing her arms, he
continued, “You will do it my way, Patricia,” he growled.

“Ernest, you’re hurting me,” she
whimpered.

He shook her hard. “Do you understand me? You
will not ruin what I have!”

“No! No, I won’t be Julia anymore!”

Raising his hand, he slapped her so hard that
she fell and landed on the floor.

He stood still for a moment, watching her
scramble away from him. With slow, methodical steps, he followed
her, nearing the staircase. “Be reasonable, Julia. You love me.
You’ve always loved me and always will. We’re meant to be
together.”

Though she trembled, she got to her feet. She
grabbed a vase off the table by the steps and raised it over her
head. “Stay away from me!”

“Don’t do anything rash, Julia,” he
warned.

She threw it at him, and he brought his arms
up to protect his face in time to hear her scream as she tripped on
the hem of her dress and fell down the stairs.

The whole thing played out in slow motion as
he recalled that event. Then flashes of other memories came to
mind. The thorough cleanup he did on those stairs. Pacing in the
parlor as he tried to decide what to do with her body. No one would
believe it was an accident. They’d see the red welt on her face and
assume he killed her after he struck her. He couldn’t let anyone
find her. So as not to attract undue attention, he dragged her body
to the basement, set out rows of newspapers, and cut her body up so
he could put parts of it into carpet bags.

She left me. She ran off. See, her bags are
gone.

Yes, that’s what he’d say. Then he’d shove
some of her valuables and mementos into the bags so people would
believe him. He worked through the night, cleaned up the basement,
and made his way out to a deserted area where he buried the items.
He had to be home come the morning light. Disposing of his soiled
clothes, he put on new ones and returned home. He went to her
parents’ house and told them she left him. He then found the job in
Bismarck and transported her body parts to the shack that had been
vacant for decades. After ripping out the floor, he dumped the
decaying body parts into the ground and covered them up, figuring
no one would find the evidence this far out, and if they did, they
wouldn’t know whose body the skeleton belonged to. If it stayed
close to Fargo, someone might discover it, and if they discovered
it, they might discover his secret.

He’d been meticulous. Everything worked
according to plan. Except Conrad Williams showed up asking those
strange questions, and Ernest knew his time was short. So he had to
get to Julia and head out of the country where no one would ever
find them again.

“Julia,” he whispered before swallowing the
lump in his throat. “Julia.”

Something was wrong. She wasn’t there in the
hotel room with him. That’s when he noticed his hands were tied. He
wiggled one hand and the cord gave way. Groaning, he tried to move
again, but his body was still too heavy.
Damn it, Julia.
She
had put something in the coffee to knock him unconscious. And that
meant his time was short. He had to find her before she got away.
He tried to lift his hand but couldn’t.

You’re not getting away. I’m not losing you
again.

Gritting his teeth, he forced his eyes open.
After a minute, he was able to untie his other hand.

~~********~~

Julia told Chogan everything while they
waited for Citlali and Erin to come to the general store. Todd
offered to go look for them while Ann and Mrs. Coley remained in
the front of the store. Julia remained in Chogan’s arms, feeling
safe for the first time in over a week. It hardly seemed like such
a short time had passed since she’d last been with him. It seemed
much longer.

“I never want to be away from you again,” she
whispered, stroking his hair and taking in the familiar scent of
his skin.

He tightened his hold on her.

“I don’t want to aggravate your wounds.” She
wiggled until she wasn’t crushing the healing side of his body. “I
knew you wouldn’t die.”

“I might have killed myself looking for you
if Citlali hadn’t forced me to rest,” he softly replied. “I don’t
remember much of it, but he said I kept getting up to run after
you.”

She kissed his cheek, and when he turned his
head to face her, she kissed him on the lips, careful not to
irritate her bottom lip. “I’m so glad I married you. You’re my
strength. During the whole time I was with Ernest, the only thing
that kept me going was knowing I’d see you again. And Chogan, I
felt our baby move. I can’t even begin to describe how beautiful it
is to feel the child we created together alive inside of me.”

“I hate him, Julia,” he whispered, his hands
remaining gentle on her back. “I want to kill him for what he did
to you, for what he wanted to do to our child.”

She pressed her cheek against his. In many
ways, the entire ordeal seemed like a bad dream, and she knew it
would take time before she came to terms with all that had
happened. But for now, for this moment, she was with her husband
and their child was still alive.

He took her hand and placed her necklace in
it. Then he closed her hand around it and held her again.

***

Citlali and Erin came out of the blacksmith’s
shop, and Citlali was beginning to wonder why no one in this town
saw anyone who matched Ernest’s or Julia’s description. Beside him,
Erin was crying softly into her handkerchief, and as much as he
wanted to comfort her, he didn’t know how. So he did the only thing
he knew: he decided to keep looking for them.

“We will try that hotel,” he told her.

Nodding, she joined him as he walked across
the street. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe little Ernest
would do something this awful. And to Julia.” She burst into a new
wave of tears.

Up ahead, he saw Gary with Conrad and Noah.
“Look! Gary is here.”

“Gary?” She looked in the direction he
indicated and let out a cry as she ran forward.

Citlali strode after her.

“Oh, Gary,” she sobbed as she embraced her
nephew. “Have you seen Julia?”

“No,” Gary somberly replied. “Ernest and
Julia must be in disguise. There’s no way no one has seen
them.”

“Have you checked this hotel?” Citlali asked
Conrad and Noah.

“We were just about to,” Conrad said.

The five shuffled into the hotel and waited
for the owner to appear from the back. Conrad rang the bell on the
counter and sighed.