Field of Graves(93)

Taylor and Baldwin were sharing a beer, holding hands, watching the sun set. The air was pink and chilly; the fire pit at their feet put out a steady heat.

After a time, the sky turned purple and the shadows around them disappeared. She finished off the beer and grinned at him.

“Want some dinner?” Her voice still sounded like sandpaper, and the scar that traversed her neck stood out, a stark red reminder of how close he’d actually come to losing her.

“Yeah, but I’ll cook. You just sit here.” He stood and bent to her, giving her a long kiss. When he went inside, whistling, Taylor felt the absence of his lips sharply, pulled her scarf closer around her throat.

Her survival had been nothing short of miraculous. She’d only been out of the hospital for a few days. It had taken three weeks of advances and setbacks, plus two more surgeries, until she had been cleared for release. She would be in therapy for several more weeks, but the prognosis was excellent. She’d always had a raspy voice, but now it was deep and husky. She thought she sounded awful; Baldwin found it incredibly sexy.

He’d been by her side the whole time, and she was so grateful. There’d been an attraction between them from the beginning, certainly, but it had grown into more, much more, in the weeks since they’d met. In the hospital, through the pain and agony and recriminations, every time she opened her eyes, he was close by, reading, working on his computer, sleeping. He talked to her, read to her, kept her spirits from flagging when the pain threatened to overwhelm her.

She should have told him to leave, to go live his life, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want a life without him in it.

When she’d been discharged, he’d driven her home. She’d asked him to come in, and he hadn’t left. She was so very glad. Having him in her life, in her house, banished the demons she’d been facing. She felt right again, as if she’d come back to herself. She knew he felt the same way.

*

Baldwin opened the refrigerator door and pulled out the steaks. He set them on the counter, pulled out a pot to cook the corn. Her home was easy to be in, relaxing, restful. He hadn’t felt this comfortable in years.

Taylor had saved him, and nothing would keep him from her side ever again. He thanked God every day for bringing her into his life. And Garrett Woods, and Mitchell Price, and the whole Nashville Murder Squad, for forcing him back to the land of the living. Nothing in his past mattered anymore. Taylor had forgiven him, and he’d forgiven himself. He’d have to go to Quantico at some point, grab some of his things from his apartment up there. He didn’t want to go back to the BSU full-time. Not yet. Woods had agreed he could work out of the Nashville field office. Baldwin might be healing, but there were still people who would never forgive him. Staying away seemed like the best course of action for now.

There was also the added bonus of the blond goddess out on the deck, the fire making her skin glow.

His stomach flipped as he watched her. The cat hopped in her lap, settled in by the fire. She stroked her soft head, kissed her between the ears. Gentle and strong. Loving and fiery. Capable, yet vulnerable.

Mine. She’s mine. Yes, staying put was a very good thing.

He put the corn in the water, was carrying the steaks to the grill when the phone rang. He picked it up.

“Hello?...Yeah...Oh wow. Okay, I’ll tell Taylor...Yeah, she’s doing well. Thanks for calling.”

He left the food in the kitchen and went out to the deck.

“Was that the phone?” She started to sit up, but he put a hand on her shoulder, dipped down, and gave her a small kiss on the forehead, a longer one on the lips.

“It was Fitz. Jill delivered the baby an hour ago.”

Taylor nodded. “We knew this day was coming. Jill finally fulfilled Gabriel’s prophecy.”

He took her hand. “Sort of. It’s a girl, Taylor. Gabriel’s Messiah is a girl.”

*

Keep reading for an excerpt from ALL THE PRETTY GIRLS by J.T. Ellison.





Author Note


Thank you for taking the time to read Field of Graves. I hope you enjoyed seeing Taylor and Baldwin meet and fall in love, and of course, how Taylor got her remarkable scar.

This novel was my very first full-length work. Written between 2003 and 2005, in a complete and utter vacuum, it is the novel that landed me my agent but didn’t sell to the marketplace. On my agent’s advice, I went on to write All the Pretty Girls, continuing the Taylor series, which was my first sale.

I put Field of Graves in a drawer, jokingly calling it my 80,000 words of backstory. Over the course of the Jackson series, I stole from it on occasion, referred to it often, making it a living, breathing document, a real part of the series, though unseen by readers’ eyes until now.

It has been lightly edited, and I’ve done this on purpose. First, seventeen novels later, I am now a better writer, with a more solid grasp of story and a more distinct voice and style. Second, there were some scientific and forensic mistakes that have now been corrected. Third, since I did steal some scenes verbatim for later books, I needed to smooth over those sections. I apologize for any repetitions I’ve missed.

But I didn’t want to change the book too much. It is my first novel, with the flaws inherent to a debut effort. It was rather fun to revisit the book and see these flaws. Some I’ve left; others, where egregious, I’ve fixed.