The Highwayman's Grace (The Forever Time Travel Romance Series, Book 3)

By Carol A. Spradling

Grace Blackstone never wanted to be a time traveler. She also didn't want to be abandoned within reach of a notorious highwayman. A chance meeting with the outlaw leaves her vulnerable to more than her new ability. Having seen behind the wanted man's mask, Grace is confused to find another man claiming to be her rescuer.

Highwayman Ethan Tanner has one goal in life, to destroy Bennett Brown. He has faced gunmen, and braved the elements, but a young woman who seemingly appears out of nowhere terrifies him.

A rainy night brings Ethan and Grace together in more ways than one. She will have to trust him with her secret, and he will have to trust her with his life, but are they willing to release their pasts in order to have a future together?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carol A. Spradling
• Release date: May 22, 2014
• ISBN: 9781494402648

Book preview

The Highwayman's Grace

By: Carol A. Spradling

Copyright © 2013 by Carol A. Spradling

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved.

Contact Information: CarolASpradling.com

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locals, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be used, reproduced, or shared in any manner whatsoever, in part or in whole, without prior, written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Other works by

Carol A. Spradling:

The Forever Time Travel Romance Series:

Faithfully Yours

Pursuing Honor

Novels:

Shades of Gray

For Mercy's Sake

The Night Lamp

Novella:

Redcoats and Sleigh Bells

The Freedom Series:

Cost of Freedom

Bound by Honor

Dedication

For my husband, for encouraging me to live my dream.

Acknowledgments


Peggy Henderson, Lorraine & Steve Richardson, Lily Ortiz, Beth Trissel, and Carol Coley Baker, I don't know what I'd do without you.

The Highwayman's Grace

by

Carol A. Spradling

Chapter 1

1801, North Carolina

Ethan Tanner untied the bands of the black mask he wore and pulled his disguise away from his face.  He glanced behind him, double-checking the roadway leading up to the willow tree.  The pouring rain had made the leather band slide low on his cheeks and brows, compromising his vision.  To the best of his knowledge, he hadn't been followed.  Thunder rumbled overhead, reminding him how difficult it would be to hear a passing traveler.  Finding hoofmarks in the watery muck was nigh impossible for any tracker, but that didn't mean someone wouldn't try.  

Ethan reached his hand to his belt, making sure the reason for his caution was still knotted to his side.  He lifted the leather pouch, and mentally weighed the content.  Fifty dollars in silver coin felt about right.  He would place the bulk of the money in a safe place at home, but a goodly portion would go to provisions for Mabry Landers and his family.  The sharecropper had more than earned his share, and Ethan would see that he received what should have been his all along.   

One corner of his mouth pulled into a slow smile.  An hour ago, he'd strapped a gag over a young man's mouth to keep him from crying out for help.  The heated glare the lad shot his way over the dirty cloth still made him chuckle.  It was a good thing he had bound the boy's hands and feet before quieting him. The youth had grown angrier by the second, and would have made contact of some kind if given the chance. 

In all fairness, it was hard to blame the boy for his fury.  Ethan wouldn't have enjoyed being tied up while facing the open end of a loaded pistol and a convincing threat, either.  Of course, he would have known better than to send a novice courier without an escort.  The lad did show spirit, Ethan granted him that.  But maybe his lesson in humility would teach the youth to be more aware of his surroundings and not be focused on the sweet, young thing he planned to spend his pay on.  Singing love songs to her beauty, while traveling an isolated roadway wasn't the best way to transport currency.  

Female distractions were the very reason Ethan had sworn off women, regardless of his sister's nagging.  For someone so youthful, his younger sibling, Addie, could rage about his wasted bachelorhood like a seasoned harpy.  She'd laid claim to every part of his life, making the search for his future wife her personal quest.  Although she wanted to find a suitable spouse for him, she was quick to point out that she couldn't marry as long as he had no one to take care of him.  She was eighteen-years-old, and with a long list of suitors that daily knocked on their door.  She had little to worry about.  He did appreciate her concern, but he didn't think any woman would have an interest in marrying a highwayman.  Deborah hadn't, and she had died trying to stop his raids.

Lottie pranced nervously beneath him.  He reached forward and patted the neck of his mare, trying to soothe her nerves.  His horse was as eager to return to safe territory as he was.  Ethan had always gone straight home after collecting misappropriated funds, but tonight, rain poured down from the heavens like a deluge.  

The Blue River, the one last hurdle before returning to his property, was a short sprint away.  Normally, he wouldn't hesitate to cross the river but tonight, the waters swelled to the top of the banks.  There was a shallow area in the lower bend with a good copse of trees on the opposite shore.  The thick foliage always provided decent coverage.  The river, while not overflowing, was sure to have a swift current.  Unless he wanted to risk injury to himself or his mount, he would have to wait for the water to recede.  Farther upstream, and on higher ground, a stone bridge was a viable option to cross the tumbling flow.  It was an easier passageway, but the open area left him exposed to vengeful men, intent on reclaiming what he'd relieved them of.  

Thunder clapped overhead, and he jerked around in the saddle.  He didn't need to have a gunshot rip through the storm's rampage to keep him alert. He'd get enough of a tongue-lashing when he returned home. 

Addie made it a habit to stay awake during his raids, regardless of the hour. They'd argued many times that her sleep deprivation did little to speed his arrival.  Instead of conceding his point, she'd given him a sisterly glare, letting him know that she would not rest until he ended his lawless career.  Addie understood the reason for his highwayman antics, but that knowledge never ended her pleas for him to abandon his dangerous practices.  Their arguments always ended with her shouting threats of selling Lottie and then mumbling that if he continued his thieving, he would one day get what he deserved.  Her chilling prophecy crossed his mind each time he nudged the mare from the barn.  And each time he set out into the darkness, he hoped this was not that day his sister had predicted.

While he appreciated Addie's concern, they both knew he wouldn't stop his vigilantism until Bennett Brown ended his underhanded activity.  The man was intent on buying all of the property in town.  Ethan didn't mind a man adding to his holdings, but Bennett had a malicious side to him.  He delighted in procuring property through devious methods, with the sole purpose of dominating the community.  To justify his actions, he would offer the outbid man a chance to sharecrop for him, paying him very little.  Ethan's actions may not be lawful, but at least the reason behind them was honorable. 

Lightning lit the sky like daylight, and wind blew the branches above him, providing an unobstructed view of the river.  Ethan bent low over Lottie's head, and craned his neck to see if the roadway was passable.  The stone bridge, and his last resort, lay before him in a soft, blue hue, while white-capped waves churned beneath it.  

As much as he'd like to wait out the storm, it wouldn't be long before his latest target squirmed free of his ropes and searched the area for him.  There were rumors that Bennett had taken to flogging men who had lost his revenue.  It was unlikely that the boy would guess the correct direction Ethan had taken, but he couldn't take that chance.

A slight movement caught his attention, drawing his focus back to the bridge. His heart raced, thinking the boy was cleverer than he thought.  Ethan squinted, trying to see through the rain.  Small and svelte, the image had not been the chunky youth he'd confronted an hour ago.  He inhaled a slow breath and tried to understand what he'd seen.  The light had dimmed when he caught sight of the image from his peripheral vision.  He sat back in the saddle.  Perhaps he was mistaken and hadn't seen anything at all.

Lottie neighed and shifted her footing.  A chill ran over Ethan that had nothing to do with the weather.  He may have seen nothing the last time he looked, but Lottie moved nervously beneath him.  His horse could run through lightning storms without a misstep and maneuver rocky cliffs as though she walked on flat land.  These traits were useful assets in Ethan's line of work, but the main reason he always chose this mare for his highwayman runs, was the horse had an acute sense of hearing, and she sidled back and forth as though she prepared to bolt.  

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the hairs on the back of Ethan's neck stood on end.  Unwilling to wait any longer, he nudged Lottie forward, and strained his eyes to make distant shadows take form.  Rain drilled down on top of him, and he pulled his collar closer around his neck.  Although Lottie's instincts had been right, he hoped he was wrong in what he saw.  

A figure dressed in a lightly colored garment climbed to the top of the bridge. Lithe and agile, she stood to her feet, staring into the darkness.  Why would any woman be out in weather this treacherous?  The way she poised herself on the top of the stone wall, she looked as though she prepared to jump.  This was the perfect night for it, but he hoped she didn't have suicide on her mind. Her body swayed.  It wouldn't take much for her to fall from the ledge and into the roiling water. 

There was no need to wait until she lost her balance as well as her mind. Ethan kicked his heel sharply into Lottie's side, surging her forward.  The mare leaped and whinnied, galloping in the direction Ethan steered her.  No longer caring that he was in the open, exposed to a vindictive gunman, he bent low over Lottie's neck, anxious to reach the woman. 

~

 All members of the Blackstone family had the ability to time travel, except for Grace.  Throughout her life, she hadn't felt deprived by being different from her siblings.  If the truth were known, she enjoyed staying in one place without the temptation to flee on impulse.  This had all changed yesterday when her elder sister, Hope, had forced her to become something she wasn't, a time traveler. Hope had always been a demanding and aggressive woman but this time, she had gone too far, and Grace would never forgive her.

Grace walked slowly and steadily toward the stone bridge in the distance. She'd waited for the perfect night, making sure that she wouldn't be seen or followed.  Rain beat down on her head and shoulders, plastering her cotton gown to her arms and legs as she continued to walk in a dreamlike state.  After tonight, she would end her sister's tyranny, and prevent Hope from reclaiming the one thing she needed in order to regain her sordid life.

Lightning flashed above her, giving her one last chance to see her way clearly. Only a few feet away, the stone wall of the bridge arched to the perfect height. She had never time traveled before, but she had watched her sisters disappear into thin air on numerous occasions.  One thing they had always needed was open space.  With any luck, the elevation of the bridge would meet the requirements necessary to initiate her time travel.  Hope's image floated before her thoughts like a vapor, leading her to the apex of her retaliation.

Cold, yet comforting, she climbed the rocky ledge and stood atop the stony wall.  Not bothering to look down, she stared into the darkness and prepared for her reprisal.  Knowing this was her last chance to change her mind, she pushed forward, drew her hands to her chest, and tried to recall the words to the poem she'd committed to memory earlier today.  The words were different from any she'd ever learned.  This would be the rhyme that meant the most to her life.

Thunder rumbled behind her, and she turned to face it.  Her body wavered and heat flushed over her as she scanned the darkness.  Had someone called her name?  The distant sound grew louder and more intense.  A dark cloud, fierce and ferocious, loomed toward her.  Was this how time travel started?  She didn't remember seeing anything like this when her sisters traveled.  Whatever was in the distance, it raced toward her. 

Leaning away from the commotion, Grace fell backward.  Her arms flailed at her side, and she grasped for anything to prevent her fall.  Instead of leaping across time as she'd hoped to do, she plummeted headfirst over the edge of the bridge.  

Icy cold and dark, the water engulfed her, spinning her head over heels, turning and twisting her body as though the current tried to rip her limbs from her torso.  Her lungs burned, and her chest compressed as if being squeezed under a millstone.  This wasn't how she'd planned her revenge.  She thought about the dark form that had raced toward her.  What fool would be out in a night like this? 

She fought against the vicious tide, determined to live long enough to end Hope's wickedness.  Pain throbbed in her ears.  She thrashed her arms, and swept her hands in front of her, desperately searching for something to cling to.  Stretching and kicking her legs, she strained to make contact with anything solid.  She had grown up within a few miles of the Blue, and had never known it to be a deep river.  Of course, her family had lived much further downstream.  Still, had that much water flowed down from the upper peaks? Jostled and abused by the raging rapids, she'd surely touch bottom at some point.  Her feet scraped against the ground, and she pushed upward, hoping to vault toward the surface. 

Kicking with the last of her strength, she managed to get her head above the flow and sucked in a mouthful of air.  Her lungs filled, burning with the fresh breath.  She tipped her head backward, battling to remain afloat.  It would be impossible to drift with the current.  Thrashing and dodging debris as best she could, she hoped the tide would push her to the bank.

Still trying to catch her breath, she glanced ahead of her.  Instead of a serene pool, water gushed around both sides of an embedded boulder.  There was no time to brace for impact.  She clenched her muscles, and collided with the stone.  Her body vibrated like a bell clapper.  A metallic copper taste filled her mouth.  Her tongue didn't hurt, but she hoped her teeth weren't jarred loose. 

Her torso scrapped against the side of the rock as the force continued to push her downstream.  Desperate to vacate the churning deluge, she clawed at the stone.  It didn't matter if her skin ripped to shreds; she would secure herself to the granite buoy one way or another.  Gaining a foothold, she pushed herself upward, and gasped for breath.  Her limbs shook as rushing water twisted the skirt of her dress around her legs and hips.  The water's deafening sounds screeched up at her like demons condemned to remain trapped in their abyss. She involuntarily shivered against the cold, and every muscle in her body screamed for rest.

Pressing tightly and clinging to the stone, she forced one eyelid open and peered through the rain.  There had to be a way to escape her terror.  Fear gripped her tighter, strengthening its hold around her ankles, neck, and waist like freezing shackles.  Her head lolled forward, and she forced her eyes to open.  She needed to remember her poem before she lost consciousness. 

As much as she hated what Hope had done to her, she now had the ability to time travel.  She'd sworn she would never use her ability except to destroy her sister, but her present circumstance demanded she reconsider her decision. She clenched her elbows around the rock, lifted her hands, and prepared to recite her poem.  With any luck, her turbulent surroundings wouldn't muffle her words.

Her jaw quivered as she opened her mouth to speak.  Instead of reciting a phrase, a slicing pain clipped her arm, knocking her from her perch.  She gasped a deep breath, and then pitched backward into the water.  Spindly branches tangled in her hair, dragging her beneath the surface.  Water soaked bark, scratched her forehead.  The large tree trunk rolled to its side, gathering her into its snarled roots. 

Bitter tasting liquid surrounded her, caressing her in a watery embrace. Grace's struggles to free herself were useless.  A cold, wet death would be her punishment for lashing out at her sister.  Stripped of her energy to fight, the current consumed every part of her.  Water dragged her under, and she said a quick prayer, welcoming her death.  Her body slowly relaxed, and cold no longer mattered to her.  She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the end of her life, but hoped her time on earth was worthy of a peaceful eternity. 

A strong force lifted her shoulders from the depths and pulled her free of the water.  Wind blew across her body, and she shuddered alert.  She forced her eyes open, braving a glimpse at her new surroundings.  Everything around her remained dark and tumultuous. 

Instead of a peaceful transition into the afterlife, her body spasmed and her throat burned.  A hard object pounded on her back, bending her forward. Struggling to gain her breath, she coughed and gagged.  While she had never thought much about the afterlife, she was certain it would have been brighter and less violent. 

A strong arm caught her across her ribs, and heaved her into an embrace. She didn't know if she should try to sit up or remain limp.  She was barely breathing, but could only guess if her heart had stopped beating or was merely nearing its end. 

Something hard and cold jostled her shoulders.  Lethargic, she pushed at the annoyance, trying to stop his blows.  She hated to make trouble having been newly arrived to Heaven, but she would have to report the person responsible for her abuse to someone in authority.

Her chest violently struggled for breath, and her body felt hot and clammy at the same time.  She turned her head and coughed.  Soft words were whispered close to her ear, and she touched the face next to hers.  Stubble spread beneath her fingertips, and the mouth next to her temple drew up, pushing the man's cheek into a tight ball. 

She opened her eyes as a large form leaned over her.  Although she was certain she wasn't at her final destination, she was content with waiting.  Still unable to form words, she pulled her rescuer to her and kissed him soundly on the mouth.  She had no other form of payment, and hoped he'd accept her display of affection as suitable compensation.  Blackness consumed her, and Grace drifted into nothingness.

~

Still lying on the riverbank, a distant noise clattered in the background, and Grace flinched with each sharp thud.  She pushed herself up on one elbow. Her muscles screamed their rebellion.  Slowly glancing around, she took in her surroundings.  Barely daylight, the rain had stopped, but the river still raced in front of her.  She stretched her shoulder, trying to work the kinks from the center of her back.

You think you can travel? a voice asked from beside her.

Turning her head, she looked to see who spoke to her.  An old man with a beard and mustache adjusted his saddle fifteen feet away from her.  From what she could remember about last night, a fairly clean-shaven man with an easy smile had pulled her free of the river's fury. 

Who are you? she asked, glancing around to see if there was any sign of the man from her memory.

The older man tightened his horse's cinch.  I'm the man who pulled you from the river, and I'd think you'd be more appreciative of my efforts.

Grace pushed herself to her feet, staggering to gain her balance.  Her head ached like thunder, but she was alive, not that she liked what she had awakened to.

Do you have family in these parts? the old man asked, without looking at her.

N-no, she answered, holding her hand to her head.  Although she recognized the mountains near the Blue, her family had never ventured to this section of the river.

I didn't think you did.  I know everyone in these parts, and I've never met you.  He led his horse toward her.  Let's go.

Go? she asked, her mind still groggy.

I can't leave you here, he said.  My name's Bennett Brown, and you'll stay with me at my house.

And if I refuse? Grace asked.  While she couldn't remember everything that had happened last night, she had no inclination to become this man's houseguest. 

Maybe you'd prefer to have the river finish you off. 

He grabbed her by the upper arm, and pushed her toward the bank.  The ground was still slippery beneath Grace's feet.  Unable to resist the pressure of his hand, she slid to the water's edge and fell to the ground.  Fresh pain shot through her palms and knees.  She glared back at the man.  These were not the gentle hands from last night that had lifted her to safety. 

I'm not giving you a choice, he snapped.  Get on that horse or walk behind him.  I don't care which you choose, but you're going with me. 

A black, leather band lay in the water under Grace's hand.  Without thinking, she scooped it up and slipped it into her pocket.  Glaring at the man across from her, she slowly stood to her feet.  Still weak from her late-night tumble in the rapids, it might be better to ride than walk.  There was no telling how far they'd have to travel, and she doubted her body could endure a prolonged walk.

Thank you for your kindness, she mumbled sarcastically as she walked past the ogre to his horse.  He scoffed, but said nothing.

Grace glanced around the area near the bank as she stepped into the stirrups.  She looked to see if anyone else was nearby.  Bennett Brown may claim he had saved her from drowning, but she was certain it had been another man she had kissed for rescuing her.

Chapter 2

Ethan pulled Lottie to a stop at a fork in the road, and pulled his hat low on his head.  His wet clothes clung to his body like an outer skin, sapping warmth from his torso and draining it, one drop at a time, down his arms and legs. Exhaustion weighed heavier across his shoulders than at any other time in his life.  Highwayman raids were always dangerous, and he never knew what he would face each time he saddled Lottie.  To ward off as many unforeseen disasters as possible, he had made it a habit to learn as much detail as he could about the courier before heading into the night.  Once meeting his target, he would collect the misappropriated funds, and then return home as quickly as possible.  His raids were generally uneventful, but tonight had been different. 

He pulled the opening of his cape together, clutching both edges of the fabric in an icy grip.  His fingertips