The Last Lone Wolf

by Maureen Child

  “Uh,” he said, setting the coffee mug down onto the counter. “Don’t mind me, my mouth starts running, there’s no telling what might come out of it. I better get out there, ride herd on those guys and make sure they’re hammering everything together right.”

  “Sam…” She hopped off the high kitchen stool and stared at him. Her heartbeat was staggering wildly, as if it couldn’t quite find the regular rhythm. Her breath was whooshing in and out of her lungs and her mind was screaming. It was all she could do to keep her voice low and controlled. “Tell me. Did Jericho let my brother die?”

  “No, he did not,” the older man said tightly. “But I can see I spoke out of turn. Whatever else happened is for Jericho to tell or not as he sees fit. I admire you a lot, Daisy. But this is not my story to tell. Now, excuse me, I’m going back to work.”

  Stunned, she simply stood there, speechless. What did it mean? Was this the secret Jericho had been keeping from her? What had happened on the day Brant died? What was Jericho hiding?

  Alone in the bright, cheerful kitchen, with sunlight pooling all around her, Daisy felt as if she were at the bottom of a deep, dark hole.

  Sam would have been surprised to know that Jericho hadn’t gone to the high country at all. Instead, he’d steered his Jeep down the mountain and had driven directly to Justice’s ranch. He’d needed to talk to somebody, to try to straighten out everything that was in his head and he had known that Justice would talk straight and say exactly what he was thinking—whether Jericho liked it or not.

  “You really are an idiot, aren’t you?” Justice shook his head in disgust and took a long drink of his beer.

  “Thanks. Now I remember why I came to you.” Jericho jumped up from his chair and stalked the perimeter of the ranch office. He’d always liked this room. It was purely masculine and the one spot Justice had been able to defend from Maggie’s influences. Every other inch of the ranch had been transformed or redecorated, but here, Justice drew a line.

  Jericho slapped one hand on the fireplace mantel, looked over his shoulder at his brother and said, “You wouldn’t be mad?”

  “Hell, yes, I’d have been mad.” Justice lifted his booted feet to the corner of the desk and crossed them at the ankle. “I was mad when Maggie showed up with Jonas in her arms and claimed he was mine.”

  “He is yours.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t believe her.”

  “So who’s the idiot?” Jericho countered.

  “You are. I’m a recovering idiot. There’s a difference.”

  “Damn it, Justice,” he complained. “She seduced me for my sperm!”

  “Sneak up on you in the night, did she?”

  “Not funny.”

  A short bark of laughter shot from his brother’s throat and had Jericho scowling at him. “The hell it’s not. You can’t be seduced if you’re not willing. And if you’re so damned protective of your sperm, why didn’t you have the little suckers corraled?”

  He didn’t have an answer for that one, so he turned around, stared into the dancing flames in the hearth and tried not to grind his own teeth into powder.

  “You’re not listening,” he ground out. “She tricked me. Right from the beginning. Lied to me. Used me.”

  “Yeah, well, welcome to the world. People lie sometimes.” Justice took another drink of his beer, balanced the can atop his flat abdomen and reminded his brother, “But when it mattered, when it really counted, she told you the truth. Besides, if you’re looking for perfection, Jericho, you’re not gonna find it.”

  “Yeah, she did,” he agreed, remembering the look on her face when she’d told him. When she’d seen his reaction. Well, damn it, he’d like to know what man would have reacted differently. “I never planned on a family, you know,” he said, talking to himself as much as Justice. “Wife. Kids. I never wanted anyone so dependent on me that my death could destroy them. I never wanted to cause anyone that kind of pain.”

  “Just this kind of pain then?” Justice argued. “That girl loves you, Jericho. She’s carrying your baby and she loves you and you walked out. You turned tail and ran out the minute she really needed you. The minute you were actually tested.”

  Well, that didn’t set well with him. He hadn’t thought of his leaving in those specific terms. But now that he had, he was forced to admit that Justice was right. He’d walked out not only on the woman he loved, but on his own child, too. What did that say about a man’s honor?

  “There’s something else to think about, too,” Justice said. “Didn’t you tell me that there was something you hadn’t told her?”

  That brought him up short. In all the mess with Daisy and his fury at her deception, he hadn’t stopped to consider that he’d been keeping secrets, too. And if you’re keeping secrets, isn’t that the same damn thing as lying? Hell.

  “So maybe, Jericho,” his brother mused aloud, “it’s time to swallow that damn pride of yours, go home and talk to the woman you love before you do something so stupid she gets away from you altogether.”

  Daisy should have left.

  She knew it.

  Staying at Jericho’s house only made his absence tear at her even harder. But how could she leave before she faced him? How could she go on with her life until she knew exactly what it was he’d been keeping from her?

  How could she go on with her life without him?

  That was the real question and one she didn’t have an answer to.

  She’d buried her emotions in cooking. There were now so many casseroles, desserts and stews stored in the freezers, no one at the camp would have to shop for supper for two years at least. And still, she was unsettled.

  Nikki was on the couch beside her, curled into a ball, when suddenly she jumped straight up, gave a loud, sharp bark and jumped to the floor. Her nails clattered on the wood planks as she raced to the front door.

  Daisy’s insides twisted into knots as she stood up. Jericho was home. At last.

  The door swung open, but Daisy stood her ground and listened as Jericho’s deep voice rumbled out.

  “Missed me, huh?” he asked and Nikki’s soft whines answered him. “Yeah,” he said, “crazy thing is, I missed you, too, CB.”

  Confused, Daisy frowned slightly and the frown was still on her face when he walked into the great room with Nikki held against his chest.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi yourself,” she said, then asked, “What’s CB?”

  He shrugged, patted the little dog’s head, then set her onto the floor where she ran circles around him. “Coyote Bait.”

  “Not very nice,” she told him.

  “She doesn’t seem to mind.”

  He walked farther into the room and it occurred to her that they were behaving like polite strangers. A corner of her heart ached for what they’d lost.

  “How are you?” he asked. “How is the baby?”

  “We’re both fine. You?”

  “Same.”

  He scrubbed one hand across his jaw, something Daisy had noticed he did whenever he was stalling, looking for the right words to say. So she waited to hear what he would come up with.

  “You pissed me off,” he finally said. “But I guess you figured that out.”

  “Yes, though you hid your feelings so cleverly, I deduced it when you left and didn’t come back.”

  “Right.” He nodded. “I shouldn’t have done that. And so you know, it didn’t do any good anyway because I took you with me when I left.”

  “Jericho—” Daisy started.

  “No, don’t say anything.” He walked toward her and stopped just a few feet from her. “Not until I’ve told you something I should have told you long ago.”

  She swayed a little, then locked her knees to keep herself standing. This was what she’d been waiting for. What she’d been dreading. What had kept her dreams filled with images of her lost brother, tangling with visions of Jericho and all he’d come to mean to her. Now she was both terrified of learning the truth and
determined to hear it.

  “You mean about Brant’s death?”

  Surprise flickered in his eyes. “What do you know about that?”

  “Not enough,” she said. “Sam—”

  “Damn it.”

  “Don’t you be mad at him,” she said quickly. “He thought you’d already told me whatever it is that you’re keeping from me and when he realized you hadn’t, he wouldn’t say anymore.”

  Outside, night was falling and the setting sun was painting the sky in brilliant colors. Crimson-stained clouds studded the horizon and Daisy realized a storm was brewing. Well, that was appropriate because another kind of storm was building right here.

  “What happened to my brother?” she demanded, moving right up to him, fixing her eyes on his. “How did he really die?”

  Pain shot across his eyes, but Daisy wouldn’t be moved. She had to know. Was she in love with a man who was the cause of her brother’s death? Had she created a child with a man she should hate?

  “You know how he died,” Jericho said softly, staring into her eyes.

  “I don’t know why.”

  “Ah, hell.” Jericho peeled off the worn brown leather bomber jacket he habitually wore and tossed it onto the couch. He wore a red T-shirt with the words King Adventure stenciled on the left breast pocket. Folding his arms across his chest, he braced his feet in a wide stance and said, “All right. Here we go.” Watching her as if he couldn’t bear to look away, he said, “Brant volunteered for a dangerous mission and I could have stopped him from going.”

  “He volunteered?”

  “Yeah.” Now it was as if he couldn’t stand still. He walked past her to the hearth, then turned around and came right back again.

  He looked at her, but Daisy thought he was really looking into the past. A past that was haunting them both.

  “He knew it was dangerous. The captain called for volunteers and Brant’s hand shot up.” He smiled in memory and shook his head. “The kid knew no fear. He was eager to serve. Proud to serve.”

  “Yes, he was,” Daisy said and nearly sighed with relief as the knots inside her began to loosen. She couldn’t say why because she didn’t know the whole truth yet, but looking up at Jericho now, she knew with a bone-deep certainty that this man would have done anything to keep her brother safe. There was simply no way he could have been responsible for Brant’s death.

  “And why do you think you should have stopped him?”

  “Because he was a kid,” Jericho snapped irritably. “Sure of himself and not cocky with it either, but he was just a damn kid.”

  Her brother’s face rose up in her mind and Daisy saw what Jericho was obviously not seeing. Her brother had been young, yes. Too young to die and, God, she would always wish that he’d come home, married, had had a family and lived to be a cranky old man. But that hadn’t happened, so she would deal with reality.

  What she wouldn’t do was take away from her brother’s sacrifice by playing ’what if?’

  “I could have stopped him,” Jericho muttered thickly, spearing his gaze into hers. “Could have gone to the captain, recommended he choose someone else. Done…something.”

  “I have one question, Jericho, and I want you to give me your gut reaction answer, okay?”

  “Yeah. What is it?”

  “Was Brant ready for that mission? Trained? Capable?”

  “Absolutely,” he said without hesitation.

  And the last of the knots inside her fell free. Daisy took a deep breath, sighed it out and moved toward the man she loved to distraction. Reaching up, she laid one hand on his cheek and said, “Then you have nothing to regret.”

  “But—”

  “You know, it’s ironic,” Daisy told him thoughtfully. “I raised him, and you’re the one who made him into a man. Yet you’re the one thinking of him as a boy.”

  Jericho’s jaw dropped and his eyes went wide. A hundred different emotions chased each other across his face as seconds ticked past.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Jericho,” she whispered, leaning into him, willing him to believe her. “Brant made his choices. He was a Marine and he took the same chances any of you did. You can’t take that away from him now by putting the blame for his death on yourself.”

  “You surprise me. Endlessly,” he said.

  “Good.” She smiled. “I understand how you feel, believe me. But you could have told me this before.”

  He grabbed her and yanked her close. He dipped his head, buried his face in the curve of her neck and inhaled her scent as if he were taking one long, last breath. “I’ve carried that around with me for so long…”

  “Time to let it go. Time to think about the future, not the past.”

  “Our future,” he said, lifting his head to kiss her once, twice. He threaded his fingers through her hair, skimmed his gaze over her face as though he were burning her image into his brain. “I love you, Daisy. I want you. I want our baby.”

  “Jericho…”

  “Stay, Daisy,” he said. “Marry me and stay.”

  She sighed, smiled and whispered, “Okay.”

  Epilogue

  One month later…

  “You noticed it’s snowing, right?”

  Jericho grinned at his wife and pulled her up close to him. “Yeah, I noticed. Pretty, isn’t it?”

  It really was. Their campsite was alongside the lake and the snow was falling in huge, soft tufts. Silence reigned in the white darkness and the only sound came from their whispered conversation and the hiss and snap of their fire.

  “Gorgeous. And cold,” Daisy said, burrowing in even closer. “Don’t forget cold.” She turned her face up to his. “Tell me again why we’re taking a honeymoon camping trip in late October?”

  “To be alone,” he reminded her, using one hand to toss another piece of wood on the campfire in front of them. “Most of the King family is still at the lodge. My family doesn’t like leaving a good party in a hurry. Some of them will probably still be there when we get back.”

  “I like them all.”

  “Yeah,” he said, “me, too. But I’m just as glad they’re not here at the moment.”

  “True.”

  Nikki hadn’t been happy about being left behind, but she was so busy being spoiled by Bella, Daisy didn’t think the little dog would miss them for long. Besides, this trip was about them. Newlyweds. That word made her smile. Behind them, a tent stood, waiting for them to snuggle in and Jericho had already told her of his plans for just how to spend their first night on the trail.

  “Hotels are nice, too,” she whispered, then sighed as he skimmed his fingers across the tip of her nipple. Even through the heavy sweater she wore, she felt the heat of his touch and knew she’d have gone anywhere with him.

  “Our first ‘date’ was at a campfire, remember?” he teased.

  “Some date. You were trying to get rid of me.”

  “Nope, I was trying to keep my hands off you,” he confessed. “Now, I don’t have to.”

  Daisy looked at her gold wedding band in the firelight and when it winked at her, she smiled in appreciation. “It was a nice wedding, wasn’t it?”

  He sighed, dropped his forehead to hers and said, “Yeah, yeah, it was. Almost worth what you, Maura, Maggie and Bella put us all through for the past month getting the camp ready for the wedding.”

  Daisy laughed and snaked both arms around his middle. “Almost? Almost?”

  Jericho grinned at her and couldn’t imagine his life without her. She’d brought him closer to his family. She’d eased his mind, his heart, and she’d opened up his soul to the possibilities of real love. He’d spend the rest of his life thanking whatever kind fates had sent her to him.

  “Definitely worth it,” he amended.

  “Oh, and Maggie told me that Justice has some ideas about how we can open up the camp to inner-city kids…”

  Yep, she’d brought a lot of changes, he thought and smiled as he watched her animated features brightening at t
he idea of a new challenge. She was the perfect woman for him. If he could just get her to stop talking.

  Being a military man, he used diversionary tactics, sliding one hand up under the hem of her sweater to cup her breast. “Oh, my…”

  “Talk later?”

  “You bet. But, Jericho,” she sighed as he stroked his thumb across her nipple, “there’s just one more thing you should know about me.”

  “Hmm? What’s that?”

  “I really don’t like camping,” she whispered.

  “Bet I can change your mind,” he said, smiling against her mouth.

  “I don’t think so…”

  He shifted, drawing her into the privacy of their tent, lifting the hem of her sweater and gliding his mouth along her skin to the swell of her breast.

  “Okay,” she admitted, “maybe you can change my mind…”

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-5509-2

  THE LAST LONE WOLF

  Copyright © 2010 by Maureen Child

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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