It had been Verity's voice.
A tug on his arm shifted his eyes. He blinked. And he blinked a few more times. "Verity?" Mathew coughed and dragged in a searing breath.
Her face shined with wetness. Her cheeks and tip of her nose were rosy from the cold, but the resilient woman of his dreams smiled. His hand reached up and cupped her jaw. She was just a beautiful woman. Every ounce of his injured body wanted to crush her against him and whisk her away from all the dangers out there. He wanted her to be his and his only.
"I love you," his faint words popped out with a smile. Her face fell with comprehension. Had he just said those words out loud? Heat rushed his foggy brain, and he leaned to stand. Pain jabbed him and his face pinched closed. Hands grasped his arms and pulled, and with her help he managed to get to his feet.
"Verity?" he asked again, unbelieving his eyes.
"Hi there, handsome." Her voice was quiet and kind. Tears rolled down her face, and he held out his arms. She rushed into his embrace, and he pressed her tight, shushing her hair while she sobbed. He flinched with frequent stabs of pain.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
She sniffled. "Much better now. Are you?"
"I'll live." Although at the moment he wasn't so sure.
"We need to get out of here," Verity said.
"Agreed. Any idea how many are out there?"
"Three for sure. Jaime, Joe, and Rob. Not sure how many others, but Jaime typically has ten or more men roaming around him. They're armed—modern six-shooters and daggers."
Mathew sighed at their odds. The reality was neither of them would escape alive. But a plan was better than none. "Well, whatever we decide on, I have a horse waiting outside—Sam and April's. To make our escape as efficient as possible, I need to know something." Mathew paused and collected himself. This was the question that would determine his future, however long it lasted. "Are you coming with me to the hotel or are you leaving for California?"
The pause while she considered was the longest moment of his life. Time around him froze, and his essential brain functions shut down. Would she give him a chance at a future or dash all his hopes for good? What would he do if she chose California? Could Mathew live in this time—give up his clinic and live in a rugged era? The idea was so foreign to him that a knee-jerk answer was no. He had a duty to his patients, to his clients, to his employees. No matter how much he loved her, he couldn't survive in 1853. Sam Hartley was right—Mathew was soft. With the press of a button, he could whisk them both back to the safety of the future, but then she could never return. He couldn't make that choice for her, either. Anxiety rippled up his spine as her mouth opened to answer. Please, please, please come with me.
"I'm going with you to the hotel."
Mathew blew out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Pain spiked up his rib, and his face pinched in pain. She had given him a chance to explain himself. The future held in her hands wasn't dashed away yet.
Verity pressed against him for stability. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"I'm great." Better than he thought possible at this moment. "It's just breathing that's difficult. Don't worry about me." He smiled to prove it to her, and she smiled back, but the worry on her brow told him she wasn't convinced.
"So, what's the plan?" she asked.
The doorknob behind them turned and both their heads spun. "Get out of here, Verity," Mathew demanded. "If you're caught, we're both dead."
"I'm not leaving you," she whispered. Her arms were still wrapped around him and clasped behind his back. With his injuries, he couldn't force her to do anything.
The door opened just enough for a head to pop in. It was the housekeeper Millie. Verity relaxed against his body, but Mathew didn't.
"If you two want to live, you flee on my command. Understand?" The plump woman whispered across the room. Without waiting for answer, her head disappeared out the door. Mathew and Verity exchanged glances just as Millie popped her head back in again.
"You have only a few seconds' window to make your escape. Get ready. You'll know when to go when I make a signal." Her head left again and didn't return.
"Do we trust her?" Mathew asked.
"Millie is a good woman. She's as much a prisoner here as we are."
Mathew hadn't thought of that. He wished he could save her too.
***
MATHEW SAID HE was fine, but Verity didn't believe him. Worry wracked her body while hot breath escaped her frozen lips in a small office of the estate.
Mathew slung an arm across his middle, and she heard his breath hitching with pain. Verity lifted his loose arm over her shoulder and wrapped her own arm around him for support. Her limbs jerked and trembled while she helped him toward the chamber door—he needed her aid as much as she couldn't bear to release him. Mathew hadn't declined her help and that scared her more. She hoped Millie's plan worked out, otherwise the poor old woman would be killed too, just for trying. Mathew placed his hand on the knob, and they waited for whatever signal was coming.
Verity only cared about being happy, about making Mathew happy, and that began with love. Her heart sang when she heard the words, even if Mathew didn't remember saying them, and she knew at that moment, she had made the right decision in following him.
An evening tray of tea clattered down the hallway. Footsteps rumbled and several thundered downstairs. Verity thought Millie was collecting all the house inhabitants into a room, clearing an exit path. A loud knocking came from the front door again. She heard it creak open and closed. Within moments, several masculine voices cheered, and they were suddenly cut off—a closed door, Verity assumed. That must've been the cue.
Verity opened the chamber door and popped her head into the hallway. The exit appeared clear. She supported Mathew's weight while they descended the stairs with quiet steps. Verity understood the wretched implications of escape. Jaime Perez would stop at nothing to hunt her down and this time, he wouldn't be subtle about it. Mathew's condition concerned her. She'd never seen him in so much pain. And what Millie had done for them might save their lives, but when Jaime figured it out, Millie would be subjected to his wrath. The burden of guilt and worry strained her, while perspiration coated her face with the effort of Mathew's weight.
At the bottom of the steps they shuffled straight to the front door. A raucous flurry behind a closed chamber door in the foyer told Verity where Millie had ushered everyone. They were hooting with delight in there. A door opposite the party room opened with a small squeak, and Verity's breath caught. She craned her neck to see their fate and exhaled a breath of relief. Millie dashed up to them, silent with her slippers.
"Oh, thank heavens. Get out of here before the women are no longer distracting enough. I've never organized such an event. They will get suspicious soon." Millie's hands folded and refolded with worry.
"Come with us, Verity said. "We have two horses for the three of us. We'll take you as far as you want to go."
"It's a wonderful offer, dear, but I need to stay for Audrey. I can't leave the poor maid alone with a handful of ruffians. I've always served this house and my services will end in this house. Now, get out of here before my efforts have been in vain!"