Lydia

Eleven

Lydia awoke feeling much better. The pounding in her skull had lessened, and she felt as though she had more energy. Was this the Lord's way of giving her the strength she needed to leave Nick?

She moved out of bed and walked to the mirror hanging on the wall. Groaning, she touched the bandage still around her head. She looked like death warmed over. Then again, Nicholas has been worse when she found him lying on the side of the road. Although she shouldn't complain about how she looked since it didn't compare to Nicholas, she prayed he would look past her sickly appearance and remember how she had been before.

Combing her fingers through her hair that wasn't covered by the bandage, she tried to bring some normality to the way she looked. She would love nothing more than to take a bath and dress in clean clothes, but given the situation, she was grateful for a soft mattress to sleep on, a sturdy roof over her head, and fresh food in her belly. And for now, she was very thankful for the man who unselfishly helped her toward the healing process. She would never forget his kindness during this time or the words he'd said to her last night and this morning.

Thanks to her criminal father, Lydia would lose the only man she had ever loved. She wasn't a vindictive person, but at this moment, she knew if she saw her father, she would whack a board over his head and repeat the gesture many times until she was satisfied. But she wouldn't. Doing that would turn her into the spiteful person her father was.

The soft tap on the door made her heartbeat quicken. It was time to confront Nicholas. She wasn't ready, but she couldn't put it off, either.

"Come in," she called out.

He opened the door and stepped inside. His gaze moved to the bed first, but when he saw her across the room, he smiled.

"How are you feeling?" He stepped in and closed the door behind him.

"Better. I'm sure I'll still need a doctor to look at the wound to see if I need stitches, but for now, I don't feel like I'm still being beat with the piece of wood."

He moved to her and loosely took hold of her hands. "I will get you to a doctor soon, I promise."

Promises promises... They were always meant to be broken. Just like her heart was doing now.

Gently, he pulled her back to the bed, where they sat on the edge. He held her hands and softly stroked them as his gaze watched his fingers moving across her skin.

"While you were asleep," he began, "I had a visitor." He briefly glanced at her before looking back at her hands. "Mr. Edmund Fox co-owns the Pacific Railroad. Apparently, a few years back, Jakeson had stolen railroad plans from Mr. Fox. After that, Mr. Fox had an investigator try to find information about Jakeson."

Panic rose inside her. She knew where this conversation was heading. Nicholas knew.

She cleared her throat. "What did he discover?"

Nicholas sighed heavily and looked into her eyes. "The outlaw's real name is Jack Swanson."

Her hopes sank. Nicholas' expression told her all she needed to know. He wasn't going to fall in love with a criminal's daughter.

"I was wondering," he continued, "if you are related in some way?"

The tears she wished would stay away came forth and filled her eyes. She pulled her hands away from Nicholas and wrung them in her lap. "Jack Swanson is... my father." Her vision blurred, so she dropped her gaze to the floor. Nicholas' body stiffened, so she continued. "I didn't know until you were telling Mr. Easton about the star scar-burn on his neck. Then I knew."