Jodi Thomas Read Online Free PDF

sitting room, she pulled the door wide, already planning how fast she would get rid of whoever it was.
    The blood froze in her veins as she stared at the man before her. “Barret?” She tried to breathe as panic rose. In the dimly lit hallway, her husband stood before her.
    “No, miss. No.” The man waved his hand as if he could take her fear away. “I’m not your Barret come back from the dead. I’m not him.”
    Sage tried to breathe. Of course he wasn’t Barret. She’d buried him back in Boston, and she didn’t believe in ghosts. She’d washed his cold body and dressed him in a fine wool suit. She’d walked beside his casket all the way to the cemetery so he wouldn’t be alone. Then she’d placed him in the ground beside his mother and father and stood watching as the undertaker covered the coffin with six feet of dirt.
    “I’m Shelley, miss. Shelley Darnell Lander,” the man in shadow announced. “Barret was my brother.”
    Sage took his offered hand, noticing the softness of his skin. Barret’s hands had been rough and often cracked from constant washing, not smooth. She examined the man standing before her. He wore a tan suit, wrinkled and stained at the cuffs. Barret changed into clean clothes sometimes three or four times a day. He didn’t believe in walking into a new patient’s room with the blood of another on him.
    “Mr. Shelley Lander,” she managed as she tried to think of the few times Barret had mentioned his brother. Worthless, he’d called Shelley. Worthless as warts on a leopard. Apparently all the Lander family strived to mold meaningful lives, except Barret’s older brother, who embarrassed them all by wasting his life in saloons.
    The replica of her dead husband strolled past her and into the seating room as if he’d been invited. “I tried to catch you before you left the ship. I wanted to explain why I’d missed the funeral and offer my protection on your journey home.”
    Sage left the door wide open and followed him to the settee. “I don’t need protection,” she said, thinking of the derringer tucked in the folds of her traveling skirt. Since she’d been involved in a stage robbery years ago, Sage made sure all her petticoats and skirts had a pocket big enough to conceal a weapon. “I thank you for your kindness.” She tried to think of something to say. “And I’m very sorry for the loss of your brother.”
    As she studied him in the light, she was amazed at how different the two men were. He was a muddy water reflection of her husband. Barret’s eyes had sparkled with intelligence; Shelley’s were dishwater blue. Barret’s movements were driven with purpose. Shelley swayed as he walked, as if he couldn’t quite make up his mind about which direction to take.
    He waved his hand, offering her a seat on her couch before taking his place as if he were the one entertaining. “Lovely suite, my dear.” He looked slightly embarrassed. “I hope you don’t mind me calling you dear. I feel as if I already know you for, after all, you were married to my brother.”
    Sage had never been one to tolerate fools, but she hesitated, telling herself that though she may have lost her teacher and husband, the poor man before her had lost his brother. In the years she’d known Barret, to her knowledge, Shelley had never visited, but the two must have been close as children.
    “I didn’t know of his death in time to come to the funeral. He wrote me that he was ill, but I’d had a dozen similar letters over the years.” Shelley looked like he might cry. “This time I ignored the letter. I could have done little even if I’d rushed to his side, but I’ll never forgive myself for not being there for you, you poor, poor child.”
    “I managed,” Sage answered. She had ignored the “my dear,” but the “poor child” was laying it on a little too thick. “How did you find me?”
    He seemed surprised at the direct question. If he’d expected to find a weeping widow,