Midnight Rider

by Joanna Wayne

  “We were in the area and I wanted to drop by and say hello. I hope we didn’t pick an inconvenient time.”

  “Not at all,” Aidan said.

  “Good. I’d like you to meet a friend of mine.” She did the introductions.

  Aidan shook Cannon’s hand. “Glad to meet any friend of Brit’s. Are you with the HPD, too?”

  “Afraid not,” Cannon said.

  “He’s a professional bull rider,” Brit said. She’d love to add that he was the father of Sylvie’s son, but she couldn’t very well make that assertion when Cannon wasn’t convinced yet.

  “Bull riding’s tough business,” Aidan said. “And the rodeo doesn’t sound like city-born-and-bred Brittany’s choice of entertainment. How did you two meet?”

  “Just good luck on my part,” Cannon said.

  “Suffice it to say a bull did not bring us together,” Brit added, trying to decide how to segue away from small talk to the real reason she was here.

  Louise reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. “A text,” she said. “I’m sorry. A minor emergency has come up that I need to take care of. I really must go, but I’m sure Aidan can entertain you.”

  Again the timing couldn’t have been better, Brit decided, though she doubted there was really an emergency that had pulled Louise away.

  “Can I get you a drink?” Aidan asked as soon as Louise had left the room. “I’m having Scotch on the rocks, but I have most anything you’d like. Bourbon? Vodka?”

  “A glass of white wine if you have a bottle open,” Brit said. “Otherwise water would be fine.”

  “How about a Riesling?”

  “Perfect.”

  “That was always your mother’s favorite wine.”

  Cannon asked for beer.

  “You two take a seat and make yourselves comfortable. I’ll get the drinks and join you in a minute.”

  “I’d say Louise is less than thrilled to see us, or is she always like that?” Cannon whispered once Aidan was out of earshot.

  “She’s been less than thrilled to see me ever since my father arrested her son for the murders that sent him to prison for life.”

  “Guess that could put a damper on a friendship. I get the feeling she and Aidan aren’t on the best of terms tonight, either. We may have interrupted a family squabble.”

  “Possibly. We won’t stay long.”

  “Probably a good idea, anyway, if you still want to drive back to the Dry Gulch tonight. We’re already going to catch Friday-night traffic.”

  Aidan returned with their drinks. Brit and Cannon had settled on the nutmeg-colored sofa. Aidan paced. He was definitely upset about something.

  “Have you made any progress in apprehending Sylvie Hamm’s killer?” he asked.

  Brit couldn’t have hoped for a better opening. “We’re making progress. I can’t discuss the case yet, but I think we may have her killer in jail.”

  “That is good news.”

  “Yes, I wish I could say the same about Dad’s killer, but I’m still getting nowhere with that. It’s incredibly frustrating.”

  “I’m sure it is, but you’ll get there one day, probably when you least expect it.”

  “I hope you’re right. Actually, we came here tonight because I have a few questions that I hope you can answer.”

  “Shoot.”

  “I know how close you and my dad were, right from college on. He must have shared a lot of things with you.”

  “Some.”

  “Did he ever mention that I had a twin sister?”

  Aidan drank the last half of his Scotch in one gulp. “He did. I’ve kept those secrets for thirty years, but I guess it’s time you know the truth.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “I know that he was my father in every way that mattered. No one could ever take his place, but I’d like to know more about the adoption. Mainly I’d like to know why Sylvie and I were separated at birth and why I was never told I had a twin.”

  “Marcus was your biological father, Brit. You need to know that before you can understand the rest of the story.”

  The statement caught her off guard. Aidan had seemed so serious, but surely he was joking. Only he didn’t look like he was joking.

  Aidan buried his head in his hands for long seconds before he looked up again and met Brit’s steady gaze. “Sylvie’s mother and Marcus were lovers. You and Sylvie were born of that love.”

  Brit swallowed hard, unwilling to believe Aidan’s words. “You must be mistaken. My dad loved my mother. He never even looked at another woman. Everyone who knew him said that.”

  “And they’d be right, except for a woman named Gabriel Hamm. He fell for her the second he met her.”

  “Are you sure?” Brit tried but couldn’t keep the tremble from her voice.

  “I’m sure,” Aidan said. “I was there the night they met.”

  “Was it a one-night stand?” Someone her father had hooked up with the way Cannon had hooked up with Sylvie and gotten her pregnant.

  She’d had a hard time reconciling the stranger who’d gotten Sylvie pregnant with the man she’d been steadily falling for over the past few days. But at least Cannon had been single. Her father had been married.

  “It wasn’t a one-night stand,” Aidan said. “Marcus and Gabriel met in Austin when we went back for one of our fraternity brothers’ wedding.”

  “Was Mother there, too?”

  “No. Joyce was presenting a paper at a psychology conference in St. Louis. She and your father weren’t getting along particularly well at the time. She wanted him to leave the police force and find a job where he didn’t put his life on the line. He refused. You know your dad. He loved police work. I can’t even imagine him sitting at a desk all day.”

  Nor could Brit—but an affair. Cheating on her mother and then bringing Brit home for her to raise. But he’d left Sylvie behind.

  “I’m not making excuses for Marcus, Brit. He wouldn’t want me to. He never made excuses for himself. He loved your mother in his own way. He always did right up until the day she died. But he loved Gabriel, too. He was different with her, more carefree. I swear I could always tell when he’d been with her.”

  “How long did the affair last?”

  “Almost two years, until Gabriel became pregnant with you and Sylvie.”

  “Don’t tell me he deserted a woman pregnant with his twin daughters?”

  “No. She deserted him, before she even knew there were twins. The guilt got the better of her, I guess. She moved away and told him she never wanted to see him again, that she was going to give the baby up for adoption. Marcus took it hard. As hard as I’ve ever seen him take anything, and, believe me, we’d been through a lot together.”

  “But she didn’t give Sylvie up—only me.”

  “That wasn’t the original plan. Somehow your dad found out when she gave birth. He showed up at the hospital and once he saw you and Sylvie he begged her to let him adopt both of you. But she had fallen in love with her babies, too, and changed her mind about adoption.”

  “But I was adopted.”

  “Your dad could be very persistent when he set his mind to it. And he definitely set his mind on raising you. He’d always wanted a big family. Joyce couldn’t have children and wasn’t sure she wanted a family. But somehow he talked her into the adoption without letting her know the truth.”

  “More lies.”

  “He was human. He had his faults. We all do, Brit. Your dad and I probably had a few more than our share. I’m not sure how the decision was made about which twin he’d adopt, but I do know that he loved you from the first time he held you in his arms. Joyce did, as well. Both of them loving you so much was what turned their marriage around.”

  “How can a marriage built on lies be great?”

  “Because there was more there than lies. I didn’t tell you this to turn you against your dad, Brit. I probably shouldn’t have told you at all, but I felt terrible when Sylvie was killed. I
know that you two might have been close had you been given the chance.”

  “Did you ever meet Sylvie?”

  “Only once, a few months after her mother died. Gabrielle had told her the truth when she realized she wasn’t going to make it. Sylvie paid me a visit. She questioned me about Marcus and you. She said she might look you up one day, but she wasn’t ready yet. I figure wanting to meet you was what brought her to Houston.”

  “And to her death.”

  “She was traveling into someone else’s past to find herself,” Cannon said. “That’s what she told me the night I met her. I don’t know why it popped into my head right now, but it did and suddenly it makes sense.”

  “I wish I’d met her before she was killed,” Brit said. “I wish I’d met Gabrielle. So sad to have a twin sister and a biological mother I never knew. Too bad my dad never thought of giving me that.”

  It was the first time she’d ever thought of him as less than perfect. Turned out he was just a man.

  “If you’re interested, you have a half brother, as well,” Aidan said. “Gabriel and her new husband had a son. Sylvie said he’s a navy SEAL and quite a hero.”

  “I’ve talked to him,” Brit said. “I got his name after Sylvie was killed and gave him a call. He never knew about me,” Brit said. “Perhaps I’ll try to meet him in person one day.”

  Right now, she just wanted to go back to the Dry Gulch Ranch and Kimmie.

  Like Sylvie, she needed to rescue her present from all the secrets of the past. What better way to start than by loving her adorable, completely innocent niece?

  Learning the truth about her dad had opened her eyes to a lot of things. As for Cannon and his irresponsible one-night stands and the paternity test that he hoped would save him from the responsibility of parenthood, he could go back to his bulls.

  How could she ever have thought she was falling in love with him?

  * * *

  IT WAS ALMOST ten o’clock by the time Brit and Cannon arrived back at the Dry Gulch. They’d stopped for dinner at a restaurant and then were delayed for another hour due to a wreck on the interstate.

  The house was quiet and dark, but they had called earlier to let R.J. know they were retuning tonight. The door would be unlocked and their beds ready and waiting. Brit was more than ready to climb between the crisp white shirts and cuddle beneath the warm quilt.

  Unfortunately, her enthusiasm for participating in a search for the perfect Christmas tree had vanished. Her heart felt heavy, her mind bogged down with learning the truth about the man she’d practically worshipped for all the years of her life.

  Once inside the house, Cannon walked her to the guest room. He lingered at the door. “I hate seeing you so upset, Brit. Is there anything I can do to help? Offer a shoulder to cry on or use as a punching bag to vent your frustrations?” He trailed his fingers down her arm and tried to take her hand.

  She pulled away. “I’ll be fine. I just need a little time to absorb everything I learned about my father tonight.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you are taking your anger toward your father for mistakes he made years ago out on me?”

  “I’m not.”

  “So why do you pull away when I touch you and won’t even look at me when we talk? A few hours ago I was the knight on the white horse who’d ridden to your rescue. Now suddenly I’m the enemy.”

  “You aren’t the enemy. You came through for me when I needed you, and I appreciate that. But I’m no longer suffering from a concussion and Melanie Crouch is behind bars. The urgency has passed. You can go back to your life. I can go back to mine.”

  “You make this sound like a business deal.”

  “Think of it as a release from a contract you never meant to sign. You don’t have to stick around to wait on the results of the paternity test. The only tie you might have to Kimmie is biological, just like you said about your relationship to R.J. Well, you can walk away without even feeling guilty. If any sacrifices are to be made, I’ll make them. I’ll take care of Kimmie.”

  “Whoa. You’re way off base. I didn’t see any of this coming, I’ll grant you that. But if Kimmie’s my daughter, I’ll take full responsibility for her. I don’t know how yet, but I’ll find a way. I’ve never shirked on an obligation.”

  “And Kimmie would be your obligation?”

  “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. You’re upset. I get that. Let’s call it a night.”

  “First, satisfy my curiosity, Cannon. How many one-night stands have you had? How many women have you slept with that you don’t even remember the next day?”

  “So that’s what this is about?”

  “You didn’t answer the question.”

  Anger flared in Cannon’s eyes. “I don’t intend to start explaining everything in my past life to you. But just for the record, I don’t make a habit of getting drunk and picking up women in bars. I’m not saying I’ve never had a fling that was purely physical, but those times are few and far between.”

  “Yet you admit that’s all you shared with Sylvie.”

  “I can’t explain that night or what was going on in her mind. I’m not perfect. It’s a foolproof bet she wasn’t, either. Maybe she’d had the kind of day you had today or the kind I’d had that night. Maybe all either of us needed was a place to feel wanted and safe for a few hours.”

  “What kind of night does it take for you to make love to a woman you feel nothing for?”

  “Okay, you want the truth. Here it is. It takes watching your best friend get his brains kicked out by a mad bull. It takes holding him in your arms while he breathes his last breath. It takes telling his wife who’s expecting their first baby that he’s never coming home again.”

  His voice dropped to a husky whisper, sadness replacing the anger in his eyes.

  “I’m not your father, Brit. But it’s awful easy for you to preach forgiveness and understanding when it applies to me and R.J. and then be quick to turn against your father, a man who never once stopped loving you.”

  Brit was trembling as Cannon turned and walked away.

  Tears filled her eyes as she crossed the room and dropped to the bed. Before she’d looked at a double of herself lying on that cold hard slab—before Kimmie and Cannon had dropped into her life—she’d known who she was and exactly what she wanted.

  Now all her priorities had been scrambled beyond the point of recognition. Sylvie had been looking for her future in the past. But the past couldn’t be changed. It couldn’t be relived. It could only be learned from, the good cherished, the bad released.

  Brit was about to throw her future away.

  She jumped from the bed, rushed to the bathroom, washed her face and brushed her teeth. She shed her clothes and pulled on her robe.

  Heart pounding, she raced down the hallway and up the stairs. She tapped at the first closed door.

  Cannon opened it. He looked surprised but wary. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. Everything is right—unless you don’t want me.”

  “I’m not looking for a one-night pity stand, Brit.”

  “Good, because I’m thinking more like a new beginning with the option of indefinite. But I’m warning you, if you make love with me tonight, you are going to remember it for the rest of your life.”

  He opened his arms and she stepped inside them, sure of only one thing. There was no place she’d rather be than in his bed tonight.

  * * *

  BRIT AWAKENED TO mouthwatering smells wafting up from the kitchen and a gentle ache in her thighs. Deliciously sweet memories of making love to Cannon danced through her senses.

  She rolled over to crawl back into his arms. He wasn’t there. She did the next best thing and pulled his pillow against her naked breasts. Breasts that would never be the same after being massaged, nibbled and sucked by Cannon until she’d thought her nipples would become permanently erect and puckered.

  The musky scent of Cannon and of their lovemaking still clung to the sheets
and his pillow. She breathed it in, savoring it the way she had his every touch last night.

  His fingers had explored every inch of her. His lips had teased and tasted until he’d driven her mad with wanting him.

  When she’d reached the mind-blowing edge of orgasm, he’d trailed his probing tongue and ravishing lips back to her mouth and kissed her senseless.

  And then he’d raised his beautiful naked body over hers and entered her with one heart-stopping thrust of his rock-hard erection. Both wild with desire, they’d ridden the wave of passion home.

  Totally spent after that, she was certain it would take days of recovery before either of them would be able to make love like that again.

  Two hours later, she’d been proven wrong. Now she wondered if she’d ever be able to get enough of his loving.

  But it was morning and the Christmas Tree Search was waiting. She threw her legs over the side of the bed, padded across the room to the window and opened the blinds. Tiny white flakes of snow were falling from a slightly overcast sky.

  It had to be a good omen.

  She dressed quickly in jeans and a pullover sweater that wouldn’t be too hot in the house but would provide a nice layer of warmth beneath her jacket. Her stylish leather riding boots didn’t fit the cowboy tradition, but they would do just fine. It was going to be a beautiful day.

  Excited voices, all seemingly talking at once, reached her ears the moment she opened her door. The wonderful family Cannon refused to be a part of. She hoped that would change—for his sake and Kimmie’s.

  And for hers. Who wouldn’t want to be part of this family?

  She couldn’t imagine how Cannon’s and her jobs and lifestyles would mesh, but she wouldn’t let herself worry about that now. Nor would she think of all the secrets Aidan had shared with her last night.

  The day was rife with pleasure and anticipation. She’d let nothing spoil it.

  * * *

  CANNON HELPED ADAM arrange the warm quilts in the seat of the small horse-drawn carriage. “This is a beauty. Where did you get it?”

  “On the property. It was in an old barn near the northwestern edge of the spread that hadn’t been used in years. Leif, Travis, Cornell and I decided to tear down the barn. The carriage was buried under a stack of old pine logs.”