What had happened that day? He tried to dredge up every memory. He used to ask all the Rangers about that day, about his parents. Was there anything he had missed?
A woman. There had been another woman, Callum had said once. A woman helping with the childbirth, but she was never found, and everyone had believed she had been taken by the Comanche. They had looked for her but never found a trace. She had been assumed dead.
What if there had been another baby, that somehow the woman had managed to save it? But, then, why would she not report it?
Hell, he was reaching. He tried to dismiss the thought as preposterous—like the odds that he and Nick Braden had the same birthmark. But the thought kept haunting him.
He looked back to the pool. Braden was washing his hair, the same dark, thick hair Morgan had, the same texture, nearly the same unruliness. All the other Bradens, except for the mother, had honey-colored hair and golden eyes. Braden’s eyes were just like his. And the mother. She’d also had light-colored hair, and he remembered the color of her eyes. Brown. Dark brown.
Braden was left-handed. His birthmark was on the left foot. What did that mean?
Morgan had never known any twins. Doubt gnawed at his belly, and yet …
Part of me was missing. Braden’s words. Morgan’s own feelings. He’d thought it was a lack in him of some kind. He’d been accused often enough of not having any heart at all. Only on this trip had he discovered how much of one he had.
Should he show Braden his own birthmark? The half heart?
He chuckled grimly. Braden would not be a bit pleased about the possibility of kinship. No, he needed to wait until he was sure. Questions to ask at the Ranger post, questions to ask Jonathon and Fleur Braden. He had to be sure that this was not just a once-in-a-million coincidence.
And Lori? Braden’s sister. Sickness swept through him for a moment until he realized that if Braden was really his full brother, Lori couldn’t be any relation to either of them. He thought of the love and loyalty the two had for each other. Sibling love, but would that change if Lori knew Nick wasn’t her brother after all?
Of the two, he and Nick Braden, Morgan fully realized which one a woman would be more apt to choose. If Morgan hadn’t already lost her.
He heard a ripple as Nick Braden pulled himself up from the warm water and quickly dressed in the cool air. Morgan looked at the sky. Full light now. How long had they been there? He’d been so absorbed in his discovery, in his thoughts, he’d allowed more time to pass than he’d intended. His own bath would have to wait. He looked toward Braden as his prisoner started to pull on his socks, hoping once more to catch sight of the mark. But Braden’s movements were too quick.
Braden looked at him curiously, and Morgan knew he must have been staring. He emptied his face of expression and picked up the rifle and saddlebags. Braden ran fingers through his wet hair in a gesture so familiar that Morgan felt his heart pound again. How many times had he done that himself?
“Let’s get back,” he said, trying to force authority back into his voice.
Braden shrugged as if surprised that Morgan wasn’t going to avail himself of the spring.
“It’s getting late,” Morgan replied to the unasked question. His voice sounded strange, even to himself.
Braden turned and started back through the pines. Morgan matched his wide strides, realizing how good it must feel to the man to be unfettered. His brother. The possibility—if there was one—was still astounding.
“Braden?”
Nick stopped and turned around, his face blank.
“When were you born?”
The blankness dropped from Braden’s face, replaced by puzzlement, then wariness. “Why?”
“Records,” Morgan said, feeling as foolish as he knew the excuse sounded.
“I don’t give a damn about your records.”
“I could ask Lori.” It was a challenge, easily slipped into after the past weeks.
Braden’s eyes blazed. “July fifteenth, 1844. Now you can put it on my tombstone.” He turned back to the path they were taking and started walking again.
Morgan placed a hand against a tree for support. July fifteen. His birthday. The same year in which he had been born. Nick Braden was his brother. He didn’t know how or why, but now there were few doubts.
He was wrestling with the idea of telling Braden when he reached the clearing, a minute behind his prisoner. Braden’s face was pale. He turned to Morgan.
“Lori’s gone,” he said, and there was as much fear in his voice as there suddenly was in Morgan’s battered heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Daniel Webster tried to soothe Andy, who was watching the road north of Pueblo. “Patience, Andy.”
“Where are they? Could we have missed them?”
Daniel raised his eyebrows, “I don’t think so. A Texas Ranger, his prisoner, and a girl as pretty as Lori? That would be big news in Pueblo.”
“Maybe they changed direction.”
Daniel shook his head. “Lori would have found some way of letting us know.”
“It’s all my fault,” Andy blurted out. “I’m the one they should be after.”
They had camped north of town, a mile away from the road and alongside a river where clumps of trees hid the gaily painted wagon. Fleur had stayed with the wagon. Jonathon had ridden into town and taken a room in the cheapest hotel. He was always able to fit in, to extract any news from a barroom crowd. He’d heard nothing of Nick or Lori or the man taking Nick in. He had seen, however, two men reputed to be bounty hunters. One had hair so blond it looked white.
At first Daniel feared they might not have made it in time, though they had driven day and night to reach Pueblo, even selling horses at a loss several times to get fresh ones. Daniel was obviously identifiable, so he’d stayed out of sight, but Jonathon had checked the telegraph office and found nothing.
Three days. They had been waiting three days now. Daniel tried to keep Andy’s spirits high, but his own were sinking. Could something have happened along the way? Had the Ranger killed Nick? Bounty hunters? He felt helpless. None of them were gunmen. None of them had ever killed a man. Their only hope in freeing Nick was an ambush, pure and simple. Surprise. A bluff. Violence only if necessary.
Daniel checked his rifle. He knew how to shoot. All of them did. The knowledge gave them confidence to bluff. They had bluffed more times than Daniel even wanted to consider, including the time they’d escaped raiding Comanches so many years ago, just before they’d found Fleur.
Bluffing had worked then. Bluff and Daniel’s size. That had been one time his small stature had been of great benefit. The Comanches had surrounded the Medicine Wagon, and he and Jonathon had taken out the rifles, but then one of the Indians saw Daniel’s small legs, and they’d started whispering among themselves. Daniel had gathered he was “bad medicine.” The Indians hadn’t bothered the Medicine Wagon again.
Daniel heard the sound of approaching riders, and he and Andy peered over the rise at the road below. Two cowhands. Daniel watched as Andy tried to relax, but his hands shook as he rolled some tobacco in a paper and lit it. Daniel knew it wasn’t that his young charge was scared. That was just the problem. Daniel wished Andy were scared. He was too eager, too bent on righting things. Daniel was very much aware that killing a Texas Ranger would right nothing, but Andy might well do something rash. He and Lori had a lot in common.
“What about a game of poker?” Daniel said, hoping to get Andy to relax.
“You’ve already won enough to keep me in debt the rest of my life,” Andy said, a small grin on his unusually grim face.
“There’s always an afterlife,” Daniel said. “Keep trying, and someday you might be as good as Lori.”
That jab worked, as Daniel knew it would. Andy hated being the youngest. He was always trying to compete with Lori and Nick. Daniel took a worn deck of cards from his pocket and started dealing, though his attention remained fixed on the road.
&n
bsp; Lori doubted whether Morgan would come after her. She’d realized last night when he allowed her to remain free that he had made a conscious decision to let her go if that was what she wanted.
It wasn’t. She knew he didn’t believe she would ambush him again. He didn’t know that there were others waiting to do it for her. Tears had burned behind her eyes all day, even the night before. She’d seen the defeat in his eyes, the momentary pain before he shuttered them again. He had offered everything but the one thing she needed most.
She had ridden hard, not caring if she left tracks. Morgan had to look after a woman and a child, as well as a prisoner. And a moseying pig. She smiled at the latter. She’d noted Morgan’s frequent impatient looks toward Caroline, but he wasn’t going to leave behind a child’s pet. So much for the hard-hearted Ranger.
Except where Nick was concerned.
Her smile disappeared, and she pressed Clementine into a gallop. Pueblo couldn’t be far now. The trail she had found had widened, looked more traveled. Please God, she prayed, let me find Papa and Daniel before they find Morgan.
Morgan felt as if he were carrying the weight of the world on his back. Maggie kept asking where Lori was. Beth looked pale and stricken, Braden was tight-lipped and grim. They ate silently as Morgan saddled two horses. Lori had taken Clementine and her saddle. That left them one saddle short. Braden would have to ride bareback.
No one had an answer as to where Lori had gone. Morgan had the premonition he’d find out soon enough.
Beth looked distressed. “She left just after you did,” she said. “She didn’t say where she was going, just to tell Nick that she would be all right.”
Morgan had turned to Braden. “Do you know where she’s gone?”
Braden didn’t answer.
“Dammit, there are bounty hunters out there, not to mention mountain lions, snakes, and …”
“She doesn’t have a gun,” Braden finished. “You made sure of that” Morgan sensed Nick wasn’t any happier about Lori’s disappearance than he was. He was looking at Nicholas Braden now with different eyes. Trying to see something of himself in the man. Part of him wanted to tell Braden what he suspected, but it was probably the last thing the man wanted to hear now.
The possibility that they were brothers strengthened Morgan’s determination to solve Braden’s problem, and that still meant taking him back while he was in one piece. Morgan damn well wasn’t going to find a brother only to lose him to a bounty hunter. Even though, he acknowledged privately and with some pain, Braden probably preferred a bounty hunter to him.
“Let’s go. You can ride bareback. Mrs. Andrews will take your saddle.”
“Lori?” Braden asked again, obviously not ready to drop the subject. Beth stood next to him, quietly supportive, her expressive eyes questioning. Morgan knew he was also falling considerably below her expectations. He had damn little choice, though, but to go on. If he chased after Lori, he would have to leave Beth and Maggie unprotected, unless, of course, he let Braden go.
Morgan wondered whether that was what Lori had in mind. She knew exactly what she was doing; her warning last night was evidence of that. He’d been a fool not to handcuff her, but he was so damn tired of being the villain. Morgan had really thought she would stay with Braden, if not with himself.
“As you pointed out before,” he said curtly, shielding his own misgivings, “she can take care of herself, and I rather guess you have some idea of where she’s gone.”
“You really are a bastard, Davis.”
“You could have stopped her,” Morgan said. “I don’t doubt for a moment you knew she was leaving. If anything happens, it will be on your head.” His own temper was heating now, worry fanning it to the boiling point, worry and … a pain he didn’t want to recognize. He felt like a volcano headed toward eruption.
The two men glared at each other.
Caroline started snorting, as if the pig sensed all the antagonism in the air.
Morgan took the handcuffs from his belt and stalked over to Braden.
Braden backed up. “Not this time.”
“The longer we delay, the more time Lori has to get in trouble,” Morgan warned. “And right now you don’t have the strength to best me.” He hoped like hell he wouldn’t have to test that statement. The last thing he wanted now was another fight with Braden. Despite his recent discovery, he feared he might just do more harm than he intended, if that volcano bubbling inside blew loose.
Braden seemed to read the violence in his eyes. He looked at Beth, his eyes defensive, tired. He finally held out his wrists, and Morgan found himself hesitating. But Lori’s very disappearance, the fact that Braden had to know what she was planning, made the cuffs necessary until Morgan got everything sorted out. He snapped the bands shut around Braden’s wrists.
“If we don’t find Lori along the way, I’ll go after her once you and Mrs. Andrews are in Pueblo.” Morgan turned toward the horses. “We’ve delayed enough. Get on the horse. I assume you don’t need help.”
Braden looked at him disdainfully and went to Beth’s stallion, which was already tied to a lead. He mounted the horse’s bare back easily despite the handcuffs and sat there waiting as Morgan helped Beth up, then Maggie in front of her.
Morgan was surprised to see the sympathy on Beth Andrews’s face. “She really does love you,” she said in a low voice.
He didn’t pretend not to understand. He just shook his head and turned away, taking the few steps to his horse and mounting. He found Lori’s eastbound tracks. She hadn’t bothered to hide her trail. She was moving fast—toward Pueblo.
It was almost twilight when Daniel saw Lori and Clementine. Both rider and horse looked exhausted. He tugged at Andy, who was taking a nap as Daniel watched the road.
Daniel whistled, a long birdcall, and Lori glanced up, searching the rise, then turned Clementine toward where Andy now stood, waving frantically at her. Lori slid off the saddle and hugged Andy, then leaned down and hugged Daniel. “Thank God I found you.”
“Where’s Nick?” Andy demanded.
“The Ranger’s bringing him in, probably later today. There’s a woman and child with them, and I … I want to make sure the Ranger isn’t hurt.”
Daniel stared at her, at a face that had changed considerably in the past months. Too much of the joy was gone. “Why?” he asked with a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“He’s been … well … he’s been … decent,” she finally said. “He could have killed Nick, and he … might have had cause …” Her words were stumbling, her face turning rosy.
Andy interrupted. “Surely you don’t suggest we let him take Nick in.”
Lori hesitated. “No. He said he would try to help Nick in Texas, but … Nick doesn’t believe him.”
Daniel looked at her closely. “What do you believe, Lori?”
“What difference does it make what she believes?” Andy broke in. “It’s Nick’s life.”
“What do you suggest, Lori?”
She swallowed hard, then looked at Andy. “You have to promise no harm will come to the Ranger. No shooting.”
“I can’t promise that,” Andy said.
“I can,” Daniel said quietly, casting Andy a warning glance.
“I think they will be coming down this road, though the Ranger’s very careful. But he doesn’t know I contacted you,” Lori said. “There’s no way he can know you might be in Pueblo, so he won’t be looking for you.”
“What if he was?” Andy said belligerently. “He doesn’t know what we look like.”
“I think he does,” she said. “He knew who I was. He knew a great deal about the family.” She looked around. “Where’s Papa? And Mama?”
“He’s in town, just in case you came in from another direction. Fleur’s with the wagon about a mile from here. We didn’t want to take it into town. It’s pretty difficult to disguise,” Daniel said. He chuckled. “So am I.”
Lori returned his smile. “I really m
issed you, Daniel.”
Daniel hesitated. “There’s something else you should know. There are two men in town. Jonathon thinks they might be bounty hunters.”
“Does one have white hair?”
Daniel nodded.
Lori’s face paled. “He … Morgan … mentioned a man named Whitey.…”
Daniel raised his eyebrows as he noted that Lori used Morgan’s given name. He made his own voice matter-of-fact. “I think you’d probably better go into town and fetch Jonathon. We might need some help.”
She hesitated. “Daniel … you should know. He … the Ranger … his name is Davis, Morgan Davis. He looks exactly like Nick. That’s one reason he went so far to fetch Nick, to bring him back. It’s been his face on the poster as well as Nick’s.”
Cold apprehension shot through Daniel, almost paralyzing him.
Lori hesitated. “Nick was born in Colorado, wasn’t he? He is my brother?”
“He is your brother,” Daniel said, ignoring the first question. And he’d always believed that Nick was Fleur’s child, if not Jonathon’s. Why else would she be clutching a child in the middle of the Texas prairie? Still, something nagged at him. Something from far back. Something Fleur had murmured just after they had found her. He couldn’t remember the exact words. He would have to try. While they waited, he would try to remember everything that happened that hot summer day more than thirty years ago.
Her frown lifted a little but not the trouble in her eyes.
“You go after your Papa,” Daniel said. “I think it’s better if Nick doesn’t reach Pueblo.”
She nodded reluctantly. “You will …”
“Nothing will happen to your Ranger,” Daniel said softly, his eyes warning Andy again. “I swear.”
Lori mounted Clementine. The horse was exhausted. She ran her hand down the beast’s neck and looked back to Daniel. “Do you have any money?”
Daniel took several bills from his pocket. “Is that enough?”
Wanted Page 32
