Echoes in Stone by Kat Sheridan Page A

knees.
    “Winston found me that night, sitting by the side of the road. Bless the man, he’s no better with horses than he is with upset stomachs.”
    Dash offered Jessa a weak smile, but tears continued to slide unheeded down her cheeks. Her hand, clutching his handkerchief, was fisted at her mouth as she fought back muffled sobs and failed.
    He put his arm around her, pulling her to his side. “Winston had been watching the commotion all week. When he heard first Lily, then me, slam out of the house, I believe he feared the worst. In fact his first words when he found me and finally managed to untangle himself from his stirrups, were, ‘My God Dash, what have you done?’ I think he was afraid I’d killed Lily.”
    Jessa stiffened at his side.
    He pulled her closer. “I didn’t, Jessamine. God knows there was many a time I wished Lily gone. I probably even wished her dead, but not like that. I wouldn’t have wished that hell on my worst enemy.”
    He pressed her tear-streaked face to his chest, stoking her back in small circles, soothing her much as he would Holly. “No, Jessamine, I didn’t kill your sister. But I’ve wondered if someone else did.”
     

 
     
    16.
     
    Always ready to snatch away every bit of pleasure…
     
    AN HOUR LATER, Dash pulled the carriage off the road, following a narrow trail into the woods until they could go no farther. He tied up the horses, leaving them to nibble the green shoots of grass along the path. He helped Jessa down from the carriage, careful to hold her at an impersonal distance, careful not to slide her the length of his body as he’d done earlier.
    Too many emotions were already roiling; he didn’t need to add to the potent mix.
    Dash retrieved the picnic basket Cook had supplied, then nodded at Jessa to follow him as he set off down an overgrown path. Soon, the trees gave way to an open meadow. He strode to the far side, sitting the picnic basket in the shade of an oak before turning back to her.
    They’d ridden without words after leaving the charred roadside. Jessa had cried until the choked sobs gave way to hiccups, then at last to the occasional, half-stifled sniffle.
    Perched beside her, he’d driven the horses at a shambling pace. Now and then, he’d glanced at her, but more often stared straight ahead, lost in the maelstrom of his memories.
    “Jessa,” he said. “Look around you. We left death—and Lily—back there on the road. Look at the life around you now.”
    She lifted her chin, stepping into the clearing. The grass was soft underfoot, sprinkled with waving bluebells. The sun shone straight down into the heart of the clearing, leaving the outer edges dappled with shade from the surrounding trees.
    She untied the bow of her bonnet, slipping it off along with her gloves, then stepped into the circle of light. She closed her eyes, tilting back her head to let the sun fall full upon her face.
    “You’ve said barely a word since… Talk to me, Jessa.” Dash’s voice, soft, but full of quiet command, came from the far side of the clearing. With her eyes closed, she concentrated on the quiet space around her.
    “The sun on my face— so warm.” Her breath hitched. “I feel so cold, as if I’ll never again be warm all the way through. I know if I stand here too long, it will change—from warm, to hot, to unbearable. Like the fire. Like—”
    “No!” Dash’s voice cracked like a whip in the stillness. “No. Don’t bring her here. This is a beautiful place, full of life. Don’t let her darken it for you. For us. Concentrate on the life. Try again.”
    Jessa lowered her head but kept her eyes closed. She drew a breath, inhaling the scent of the air. Her nose was still stuffy from her crying jag, but she ignored it, reaching out. “Green. It smells green here. I can smell the dampness under the trees. The dead vegetation rotting there.”
    “Those detritus are the remnants of the past, decaying.” Dash waylaid her before she could drift