Harnessed Passions
Autore
D. T. Jones
Letto da
347K
Capitoli
101
After her fatherâs death, Julia returns to her family ranch in Kentuckyâbound by the promise she made to him. The land is full of memories she tried to forget, but walking away isnât an option. Daniel, the son of a duke, made a promise of his ownâto Juliaâs fatherâto protect the stables and keep the ranch thriving. Working side by side, Julia and Daniel face rising threats and long shadows that still haunt Turner Stables. As danger circles closer, duty turns into desire, and trust becomes their only way forward. But can two people bound by promises find the courage to build something real?
Chapter One
AUGUST 1876
Julia lay in the darkness of the small berth, staring at the ceiling, the only sounds being those of the tracks beneath the large wheels of the locomotive. Memories of the past few days came rushing in on her, and once again, she heard the echo of Sharon Farnsworth, forcing her to close her red, swollen eyes to the pain.
âYouâre a cold-blooded murderer,â Sharon shrieked; her angry words could be heard over the rumbling of thunder in the dark skies. âYou killed my sister, admit it. You were jealous of her and pushed her into that damn pond. You drowned Heather out of jealousy and greed.â
The chill of anguish washed over her as the tears began to slide down the side of her face.
It was just two days ago that she stood in the worst place on Earth. The sound of thunder rumbled in the skies as dark clouds blocked out the sun.
The breeze that blew through the area reminded everyone of the solemn day and why they had been there, standing around an open hole in the ground.
Juliaâs long gown was a simple black taffeta skirt with a modest bodice and long sleeves. She wore a plain black wool mourning hat with a black veil that hid her swollen, red eyes.
Reverend Parker stood next to a dark walnut coffin, offering prayers while the family of Heather Farnsworth stood around sobbing.
Mrs. Farnsworth was supported, not by her husband, but by the banker, Mr. Hollings, and Mr. Farnsworth stood between his son Peter and daughter Sharon.
Seventeen-year-old Julia stood with her parents, Victor and Louise Turner, and her younger brother Jeremy. She felt the arms of her mother and brother, yet the cold emptiness surrounding her heart couldnât be warmed.
The six pallbearers took long, thick cables and lowered the coffin carefully into the hole as the sobbing grew louder. The flowers that each of the family members held were tossed onto the closed lid.
Reverend Parker offered yet another prayer as the cemetery workers moved closer, ready to cover the grave with dirt.
Julia fought to hold back her sobs as she turned. Her brotherâs arm was around her waist for support.
She walked next to her mother and father, and was nearly at their Dearborn when a shrill voice echoed from behind them.
âHow dare you show your face here?â Sharon shrieked, causing the Turners to look back, as well as many of the mourners who were heading to their carriages.
âYouâre a cold-blooded murderer,â Sharon said, coming closer to Julia, only to have her path blocked by her younger brother, Jeremy. âYou killed my sister, admit it. You were jealous of her and pushed her into that damn pond. You drowned Heather out of jealousy and greed.â
âI didnât,â Julia said as the sobs took hold of her words. âIâm sorryâŚâ
âThatâs quite enough, young lady,â Victor Turner said, moving to stand beside his son. âHeatherâs death was an accident.â
âThat little bitch murdered my sister, and everyone knows it,â Sharon screeched, pulling her arm away when her brother grabbed it. âShe deserves to die. She needs to rot in hell for what she did to Heather.â
âSharon, thatâs enough,â Peter argued. âGet in the carriage this instant.â
âSheâs a murderer,â the girl screamed, stomping her foot in the dirt, pointing at the grave and the workers who stood beside it, staring at the woman. âShe should be in that grave, not Heather. She deserves to die.â
âSharon, I said, stop it,â Peter told her as their parents came to Peterâs aid. âThis isnât the place to be starting your tantrums. Now, go home.â
âNot another word,â Mrs. Farnsworth told her daughter. âHasnât there been enough grief for one day?â
âHow can you ignore the fact that that witch killed your daughter?â she growled.
âGet in the carriage,â Peter ordered firmly.
âYouâd better watch your back, Julia Turner,â Sharon told her. âOne day youâll get whatâs coming to you. Just wait and see. If fate doesnât get you, I will. Iâll make you pay for murdering my sister.â
Those words echoed through Juliaâs mind as she tried to pull the pillow around her ears. Murderer. Youâre a murderer. No matter how hard she tried, she couldnât escape the pain.
Sheriff Patrick and Dr. Stewart deemed Heatherâs death an accident, but Julia knew better. It was because of her that Heather was dead.
It was her fault. She should have been the one to die.
Wiping her tears away, Julia drew a deep breath. Maybe this was her punishment.
Maybe living was the hell she deserved for what she had done. Perhaps she was meant to suffer and feel the gut-wrenching guilt for the rest of her life.
Julia slowly drifted to sleep, the tears staining the pillow beneath her head as images of Heatherâs dead body came into her mind and Sharonâs shrill voice continued to echo.
âMurderer. You killed Heather. You should be in that grave. You killed Heather. Youâre a cold-blooded murderer. One day, youâll get whatâs coming to you, Julia Turner. If fate doesnât get you, I will. Iâll make you pay for murdering my sister.â
