Wanted

by Potter, Patricia;

  “And Lori on him,” his father probed further.

  Nick nodded again.

  “Dammit, boy. You aren’t saying much.”

  “Nope,” Nick said, realizing that he sounded just like Morgan Davis. There was something to be said for few words.

  Despite the lateness of the hour, a fire was crackling merrily, and Nick made out four figures around it. His mother. Beth. Andy. Daniel. Andy bounded up to meet them.

  “What happened?”

  Nick waited until he dismounted and neared the fire to answer. He smiled at Beth and saw the sudden glory of her smile. “Both Lori and Morgan Davis are fine,” he said. “I think they both needed a little doctoring, and Morgan needed to talk to the law about a dead body.” Nick suddenly realized he’d used Davis’s first name.

  “Lori?” Fleur said. “Why a doctor?”

  “Just some bruises and cuts.” He grinned at Beth. “I really think she wanted to stay with Morgan.”

  “‘Morgan’?” Beth’s eyebrows raised.

  “He saved my life, and I … helped save his. I guess that puts us on a first-name basis.”

  “Does that mean he’s letting you go?”

  Beth was standing now, and he took her into his arms. “It would, if I wanted it.” His arms pulled her to him. “I decided to go back with him, get this settled once and for all. I can’t even think about the ranch, or a … family until then. I’ve discovered recently that’s very important to me.” His eyes met Beth’s in the firelight. Hopes, even promises, flashed between them. He swallowed hard. She felt so right in his arms, her body leaning trustingly against his.

  He lifted his gaze from her serious face and settled on his mother. She’d been crying. Daniel was next to her, his solemn face looking years older, graver than Nick had ever seen it.

  “Don’t worry,” Nick said. “I’ve developed a certain confidence in Davis, despite …”

  Daniel stood up, looking somehow regal in his earnestness, in the somber look on his face. As long as Nick had known him, he’d never seen anything quite like it.

  “I’ll help you with the horses,” Daniel said.

  The offer was more than that, and very odd coming from Daniel, who rarely interfered. He had something to say, and Nick wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it. He wasn’t going to change his mind now about going back to Texas. He wasn’t going to risk Lori or Andy again, and he wasn’t going to surrender every hope and dream he’d had. Davis held out his one hope. It might be one in ten, but it was a hell of a lot better than his odds during the last months.

  Nick reluctantly let go of Beth’s hand. Andy started to get up and help, but Daniel shook his head, and Andy sat back down, a heavy scowl on his face.

  “There’s a stream just over to the left,” Daniel said. “The horses look tired.”

  “They are,” Nick said. “They’ve been going since dawn this morning, and every day between dawn and sunset before that.”

  “He drives real hard, does he?” Daniel asked.

  Nick chuckled. “You could say that.”

  They reached the stream, and both men allowed the horses to drink, silent as they did so. Nick was waiting. Daniel had something on his mind, something very important.

  “What do you think of Davis?” Daniel finally asked.

  “I don’t know,” Nick said simply. “Christ, I hated him for a long time, but lately … well, we won’t ever be friends, but I’ve learned to respect him.” A raised eyebrow asked Daniel why the question.

  Daniel dug a heel into the dirt. “Fleur asked me to talk to you. She … couldn’t.”

  Nick was thoroughly confused now. “Talk to me about what?”

  “Maybe you’d better sit down.”

  Nick was growing more and more confused. “I don’t think I want to sit down. Spit it out, Daniel. Like you usually do.”

  “Fleur … I … well, we think that Ranger is … could be … your twin brother.”

  Nick felt as if he’d been felled by an oak tree. Or stabbed in the gut. The ground seemed to fall away from him. “I don’t understand.”

  “She told me tonight, Nick. I didn’t know myself. I knew that Jonathon wasn’t your real father. I was … there in Texas, near where El Paso is now when he found her in the desert, a newborn baby in her arms. She was nursing the child, so we assumed it was hers. When Jonathon and Fleur married, they just both claimed you.”

  Nick wished he had sat. He did so now, reins trailing through his hands. “But … how …”

  “I just found out tonight. The Ranger … Davis … suspected. He showed me his right foot this afternoon. Nick, he has a birthmark identical to yours. So I asked Fleur.” Daniel looked down at the ground. “She told me she had just lost a boy, a boy named Nicholas, when she stopped to help a woman giving birth. Twins. They were attacked by Comanches. Fleur was putting one of the babies in a wagon, and the horses ran off while she was in it. When she looked back, she saw the cabin burning. She didn’t think anyone survived. You became her Nicholas.”

  “Oh, my God,” Nick said, burying his head in his hands.

  “Her husband and baby died of cholera. I think she thought of you as a gift from God. She didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”

  “I … understand,” Nick whispered, remembering so many things, so many times he’d felt that something was missing, that part of him was somehow misplaced. He remembered how he had hurt when the Ranger had seared his wound. How uncanny the resemblance. And then that odd connection, as if they could read each other’s minds at times.

  “Why didn’t he say anything?”

  “I think he wanted to be sure. You were so sure about your birth. He knew you didn’t like him much; he … didn’t want … hell, I don’t know.” Daniel never swore. That he did now only demonstrated his agitation. “You have a right to know. So does he.”

  Nick didn’t know how he felt. Numb, for one thing. Completely numb. How could he not be the person he’d been all these years? But that was what Daniel was telling him. He wasn’t Nick Braden at all. His name was Davis.

  “Lori? Andy?”

  Daniel looked down at the ground. “No relation, Nick, other than …”

  “Other than …”

  “Your heart.”

  Nick felt raw inside. Naked. His family stripped away from him.

  And so alone.

  Sure, there was the heart connection, but … somehow that wasn’t enough. Not now. Not when his whole life had been a lie. He felt swift anger toward his mother and Jonathon, for lying to him. And it spread to include Morgan Davis.

  “How long has … Davis suspected?”

  “Not long, I think. He apparently saw the birthmark this morning.”

  This morning. A lifetime ago.

  His brother. Dear God, his brother! Not only brother, but twin.

  Pain billowed through him, settling deep in his gut. He’d come close to killing Davis several times. God knew he’d wanted to. He recalled how Morgan had stuck out his hand several hours ago, knowing it would probably be rejected, almost was. Now he understood the puzzled looks earlier today, the searching glances. He wondered whether the relationship was as hard for Morgan to accept as it was for him.

  A Ranger and an outlaw.

  His hand had been digging into the earth, seeking some kind of ballast. Daniel was still standing there, waiting.

  “I want to be alone,” Nick said.

  Daniel nodded. “Fleur … is sick with worry. Afraid you wouldn’t understand. Can I tell her …?”

  “Tell her she’ll always be my mother,” Nick said softly.

  Daniel went over to him, touched his shoulder. Nick looked up and saw tears in his eyes. He had never seen Daniel shed tears before, not even after he endured brutal attacks and vicious taunts because of his size. Before Nick could say anything, though, the small man took the reins of the horses and started back to camp.

  “Leave Dickens here,” Nick said.

  Daniel hesitated, then tied the reins o
f Nick’s horse to a tree and disappeared through the woods.

  Lori couldn’t take her eyes away from Morgan’s face. She had come too close to losing him. Not only a few hours ago but several times. She was still dreadfully afraid of losing him.

  She wondered how it was possible to love this much, especially someone she’d once thought she hated. Part of her understood. Hate and love were both strong, passionate emotions, each causing earthquake tremors in a soul.

  And her heart and soul had been torn asunder by those quakes, ripped by her loyalty to Nick and her blossoming love for a man who didn’t know the meaning of compromise. He probably never would, she thought wistfully. Morgan Davis was a man of black and white. A loner by nature. A lawman by choice. If anyone had told her months ago that she would fall so completely in love with such a man, she would have laughed aloud.

  There was no laughter in her now as she looked at him. Both she and Nick rode well, better than well. They had both been able to leap to the bare back of a pony, landing on their feet. But neither of them had the affinity that Morgan had with a horse. It was as if the two were one, Morgan and his Damien.

  But now he sat stiffly, and Lori wondered whether he hadn’t been hurt more than he’d indicated. She knew from her own experience with Whitey Stark that he enjoyed inflicting pain. She knew enough about Morgan to realize he would never give in to it.

  As if he sensed her perusal, he turned and gave her a slow tentative smile. It came as close to a real smile as any she’d seen on his face. And, surprise of surprise, he winked at her. He was astonishingly good at it. Delightedly, she sensed a playfulness that must have had been lurking deep inside him for years. It wasn’t very experienced, but it would do, she thought, as a start.

  “Do I look as bad as you do?” she asked suddenly.

  Not only was his face covered by several days’ beard, but his skin was bruised, his clothes filthy, and he sat as if a couple of ribs had been cracked. He studied her carefully before answering. As always, his stare was painfully honest and direct. His jaw set, and the smile disappeared.

  “I don’t know how bad that is, Miss Lori, but as a guess I’d say we’re pretty equal. You’re going to have a shiner for a few days.” Lori barely detected a glint of humor in the words, in the “Miss Lori” he used to bait her with. He needed practice with humor. Lots of it.

  She winced, but the corners of her mouth turned up.

  He leaned over, and his hand gently picked pine straw from her hair. “I like the way this straw got there the last time better,” he said quietly.

  Lori’s heart thumped. Memories flooded back. His body on hers, his hand doing the same thing then, brushing away a piece of pine straw as he gazed at her with such … surprised wonder.

  “Thank you,” she said softly. “Thank you for coming after me, for helping Nick.”

  Something in his face changed, hardened suddenly, and he looked away. Lori didn’t understand it. He and Nick had made peace. He’d said as much and then proved it by letting Nick go.

  “Morgan?” she said tentatively.

  He didn’t look toward her as he increased their pace.

  “Morgan? What’s wrong?”

  She saw a muscle flex in his cheek. “If Nick wasn’t your brother …?” he began.

  She didn’t understand. She tipped her head in question.

  He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then plowed on, obviously at a loss. It was endearing for a man who prided himself in always being in control. Endearing until she started listening to his words.

  “You and I … is it just because I look like Nick?”

  Lori was stunned. The two men were so completely different that she didn’t even think of the resemblance anymore except as a curiosity. Yet she sensed how troubled he was by the thought.

  “Of course not. Nick’s my brother.”

  “But if he wasn’t?” Morgan persisted.

  “Why?” she asked suddenly. “Why do you ask that?”

  Morgan wanted to tell her, though he feared the answer. He wanted to tell her there was a very good chance that Nick Braden was really Nick Davis, and no relation to her. Who would she want then? He had little doubt. There was such an easy camaraderie between Lori and Nick, and though he’d seen damned little of it himself, he knew Nick was legendary for charm. He, Morgan, was legendary for something that had absolutely nothing to do with charm.

  He had caused them enough pain, Nick and Lori. He wouldn’t inflict any more. He would clear Nick and wish them well, though it would destroy his newly discovered heart to do so.

  Morgan owed them that at the very least.

  “Morgan?” Her usually lilting voice was full of question. The minute she’d mentioned Nick, something dark had fallen over his eyes, something secretive. And his question had been so odd, so unexpected.

  The first storefronts came into view now, and he used them to avoid the question. “I’ll take our friends here to the sheriff. You go on to the hotel and get a room. I’ll ask the sheriff about a doctor.” He saw familiar rebellion in her face. “Please,” he said in a tone she couldn’t refuse. “Then we can both get some badly needed rest.”

  Lori felt herself melting. She always did when he disarmed her this way. She nodded. “But if you aren’t there in thirty minutes, I’ll send a bounty hunter after you.” It was a poor joke at best, even tasteless, but it brought a small smile to his solemn face.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said altogether too courteously.

  Beth waited a long time for Nick to return. Daniel had returned without Nick, had spoken in whispers to Fleur, and then they both had disappeared into the wagon, along with Jonathon. Andy had spread out his bedroll under the Medicine Wagon.

  Beth had checked on Maggie earlier. She was happily asleep on a feather mattress in the amazing wagon, which hadn’t ceased to fascinate her. There was room there for Beth, too, and curtains that separated the sleepers from one another. Then she went back out and waited for Nick’s return. She’d heard from Jonathon what had happened with Whitey. She knew that Nick had agreed to return to Texas with the Ranger. But something else had happened, too.

  A new tension radiated in the air, like the prelude to a vicious storm. She felt as if her newfound friends were all walking on tiptoe between shards of glass.

  She had no idea what time it might be. She knew how tired Nick must be, and she couldn’t understand what kept him away. She couldn’t quiet the feeling that Nick needed her. She knew she needed him, after this day. She needed him just to hold her. Finally, throwing caution and discretion to the cold wind now blowing through the camp, she went in search of him, drawing a shawl around her.

  Beth knew he and Daniel had taken the horses for water, so she started toward the stream where she’d washed clothes earlier while nervously waiting Nick’s return. He wasn’t there. She didn’t dare go farther for fear of missing him altogether. She sat down next to the stream, shivered in the cold, and waited.

  Minutes passed. Maybe an hour. She didn’t know. She felt the cold, but the outside cold wasn’t nearly as painful as that inside her. She hadn’t realized exactly how much she cared about Nick until today, until he had kissed her with such wistfulness, such incredible tenderness. She hadn’t wanted to let go, and she’d known then she never wanted to let go.

  She heard the clopping of hoofbeats. Slow. Tired. She stood as he drew into sight, his shoulders slumped, almost defeated. So unlike the proud, defiant man who had fought the Ranger with every breath he took.

  “Nick?”

  His head lifted then, and she knew he saw her. His broad shoulders straightened, and he dismounted, leading his horse over to where she stood.

  He looked down at her, his eyes veiled in the darkness. “You shouldn’t be here alone,” he said.

  “Neither should you, I think,” she replied. “I … was worried. Mr. Webster looked upset.”

  He put his left arm around her and drew her up close. She shivered, and he released her, taking h
is coat from his shoulders and putting it around hers. Then he stood apart from her, his body taut, nearly rigid.

  “What’s wrong?” she said softly. “What did Daniel say?”

  “That my life is a lie,” he said bitterly.

  She didn’t know how to respond. The bitterness was deep, deeper than she’d ever heard in his voice, even deeper than when he’d been so angry at Morgan Davis. He swallowed hard, as if trying to down a particularly unpalatable meal. “Daniel just told me my family isn’t my family at all. That … Morgan Davis is my brother. Twin brother.”

  Beth winced at the bitterness. She took his hand. It was cold. She brought it to her mouth and touched it with her lips, her hand trying to rub warmth into it.

  Suddenly she was in his arms, held so tightly she could barely breathe, and now she knew the extent of his desperation, of the loss he felt, the confusion, the need to understand. She wanted to say something. She wanted to ask if it was really so bad. He wouldn’t lose what he already had, he wouldn’t lose their love, that was obvious, and he could gain something very important. But he had to come to that conclusion on his own.

  “He knew,” Nick said brokenly. “Davis knows. Why didn’t I? Why couldn’t I have known my own brother?”

  “Tell me what Daniel said,” she said softly.

  He did. In short, painful sentences, each obvious an effort. Beth realized he was still trying to grasp the reality of what he’d been told. She wondered how she would feel if someone told her she was not the daughter of James and Elizabeth Carroll, but someone else altogether, that she was related to someone she had come to think of as an enemy.

  She couldn’t even imagine.

  “Mr. Davis didn’t know until just recently, and then because of the birthmark,” she finally said. “So how could you possibly know?”

  “I should have … felt something.”

  “You did,” Beth said gently. “You just wouldn’t recognize it because … of the anger between you. Lori told me how you helped him during that snowstorm, and then … you were so good together when you rescued me and later when you were attacked by the bounty hunter.” She hesitated, then continued carefully. “You didn’t have to go back for him tonight. From the beginning I saw something similar, natural, between the two of you. I always wondered about a kinship, but Lori told me it was impossible.”