Morgan winked at Lori. “She’s a lot tougher than she looks. In fact …”
Lori was enchanted, just as she had been before when he exercised that rare, mischievous humor. Spontaneously, she reached out for his hand, just wanting to touch him, and his gaze met hers … warm and loving. It surprised her, here in the middle of men he worked with, but, then, he’d always been direct. He wouldn’t hide her any more than he would hide his relationship with Nick. Even if he could.
Mary Jo looked thunderstruck. “Well, Morgan Davis,” she said. Then obviously stuck for words, she repeated, “Well … well. Well.”
Morgan chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you speechless before, but you’re right, Mary Jo. I think Lori would like to clean up a little. Nick and I could use a bath, too.”
The woman nodded, scooping up a strand of auburn hair and tucking it back in a knot at her neck. She wore an apron over a blue gingham dress, and Lori felt suddenly awkward in the shirt and divided skirt she’d worn the past several days. She had one dress with her, and the shirt and trousers she’d worn the first few days. Mary Jo Williams was very pretty, very much a lady, and yet so at ease with these hard, laconic men. Lori had always been at ease with men before, but these were a different breed from the townsmen and cowboys who’d gathered around the Medicine Show Wagon, wanting to be entertained. And she so badly wanted them to like her.
She followed Mary Jo to the small house she shared with her son. “Aren’t there any other women here?” she asked.
Mary Jo shook her head in the negative, and some of the laughter left her eyes. “There’s Carolyn Talbot. She and George have a ranch about ten miles away where she goes when he’s out on a job. That’s all of us. Rangers don’t marry much. They usually leave if they do.”
Lori saw a picture on a table, a handsome man standing next to Mary Jo.
“That’s Jeff. He kept saying he would leave the Rangers, start a little spread someplace, but he never could quite bring himself to do it.”
“Why don’t you leave?”
“No place to go. No family but Jeffry. And I don’t know how to do anything but cook and sew. Seemed easier to stay, but now I don’t know. I don’t want Jeffry growing up this way … thinking rangering is the only thing to do.” She hesitated, then added quietly, “Like Morgan.”
“You like him, don’t you?”
“He was Jeff’s friend, and Jeffry idolizes him. When Morgan’s here, he spends a lot of time with my son. I appreciate that.” She smiled. “How I do run on. There’s a pump in the kitchen, along with a bathtub. I’ll start a fire and you can heat some water. I’ll get Jeffry to help me in the cookhouse, so you just take your time.”
Just then the door swung open, and a freckle-faced boy dashed inside with Lori’s bedroll and saddlebag. “Morgan told me to bring this to you,” he said. He was ten, maybe eleven, with brown eyes filled with excitement. “You sure are pretty,” he said.
Lori suddenly felt at ease. “Thank you, sir,” she said. “And thank you for bringing my things.”
He ducked his head slightly. “Gotta go see Morgan,” he said, and whirled back out the door.
Mary Jo chuckled. “As I said, Morgan’s his hero.”
And mine, Lori thought, even as her eyes went back to the picture on the table and a shiver ran down her back.
Harmony hadn’t changed since the last time Morgan saw it. Dusty, dirty. A cow town thrown up ten years ago to serve the growing number of ranches that bloomed after the war.
He looked toward Lori, who was on Clementine. They’d eaten dinner together, and then he had to leave her to see Ira. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience.…
Ira had known instantly that Morgan was thinking of leaving the Rangers.
“What’s happened to you, Morgan?”
Morgan sighed. “I wish I knew. Ira, I love Lori Braden. I never really believed in love before, but now …” He hesitated. “And then there’s Nick. Even if we succeed in Harmony, those damn posters have a life of their own. You know that. Both Nick and I will be targets until the word gets out. Even then, a year from now, two … some new bounty hunter will see an old poster and it starts all over again.”
“You’re going to turn down that promotion, aren’t you? You’ve already made up your mind.”
“I appreciate the offer of a special-forces company, but you know what that means as well as I. Always on the move. It’s bad enough having a wife and being stationed in one place.
“You’re really going to marry her?”
“If she’ll have me after talking to Mary Jo,” he said, then stared at Ira. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”
“She needs to know.” Ira paced. “I don’t want to lose you, Morgan. You’re the best there is.”
“I was,” Morgan corrected. “I was, because I didn’t feel anything. Now I do. I may not be so fast next time.”
“Think about it, Morgan. Think real carefully.”
“I will,” Morgan said.
“No decision until we get back,” Ira countered, and Morgan knew his boss was betting that the action, the teamwork … the excitement that always came with a job like this would win in the end. He’d nodded and had a drink with Ira. They’d been friends a long time, had suffered through cold nights and long watches, and harrowing battles together. They’d served in the same company during the war. “To the Rangers,” Ira had toasted.
“The Rangers,” Morgan had replied, feeling torn apart once more.…
But now he concentrated on the streets of Harmony. Men watched in amazement as the twelve men in duster coats and well-used pistols rode through town as if they owned it. Only Wardlaw had done that before. Morgan wore his hat pulled down, as he usually did, shading part of his face. Nick, as usual, was riding hatless, almost in open defiance. Two men on the street stared at Nick’s face, then dived for their horses and rode away as if the devil were after them.
Ira stopped at the sheriff’s office. Morgan and Nick dismounted along with two other men carrying rifles, and then Morgan helped Lori dismount. The remaining Rangers stayed mounted, their eyes scouring every window, every doorway.
The sheriff, a fat, unkempt man, stood at the invasion of his office and started blustering until he saw the Ranger badges. “What the hell …” And then his eyes fastened on Morgan, who’d pushed his hat up now and moved over to Nick.
The sheriff’s brows furrowed. “What the hell is going on? Which is Braden?”
Ira looked toward Morgan. “This is Ranger Morgan Davis. You’ve put him at considerable inconvenience. He and his brother, the man you know as Braden.”
The sheriff’s face paled. “But he … Braden’s wanted for murder.”
“Murder isn’t exactly the way I heard it,” the Ranger captain said, “nor the way this young lady tells it. I want to hear from every witness myself.”
“This is a local … matter,” the sheriff blustered.
“Not any longer,” Ira said. “We have a new mandate from the governor. To stop rustling. I’ve heard you’ve had quite a bit of rustling in this area.”
“That has nothing to do with …”
“But I say it does. Maybe this man knew too much.”
“No … no, it was … Mr. Wardlaw’s daughter. She was attacked.…”
“This might take us quite a while to settle, Sheriff …”
“Sayers,” the sheriff answered, his face even paler than moments before.
“I want to see all your arrest records, all the witnesses to … this shooting. Privately. Very privately. Which means without you or any of your men. And then I want to see all recent property sales.”
“You can’t do this.”
Ira smiled, and Morgan winked at Nick. It was one of the coldest smiles imaginable. “I have eight Rangers outside that say I can.”
“Mr. Wardlaw …”
“I’m not talking to Mr. Wardlaw,” Ira said softly. “But I will. I understand his cattle herd is growing a little fas
ter than most. But a good sheriff like yourself wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” Ira turned away from the sheriff. “Now, Miss Lori, if you can give me the names of the people you saw here that afternoon, I’ll have someone fetch them. No one else will leave town until we’re finished.”
Throughout the late afternoon Lori increasingly understood Morgan’s commitment to the Rangers. She had begun to, in fact, since arriving the day before. There was a camaraderie, a commitment to each other apparent in the captain’s immediate support of Morgan. And she’d seldom seen a more impressive sight than the six Rangers outside, their bodies alert as Morgan’s always had been, their rifles resting easily, deceptively so, in their hands. Two others guarded the roads in and out of town, preventing anyone from leaving.
How could she ask him to leave them? And how could she bear what Mary Jo had borne? Waiting, always waiting, to see whether her man survived the latest battle with Indians, rustlers, renegades.
They were uncommonly effective, these men. She watched as they interviewed witnesses, first Ira, then Morgan, his likeness to Nick obviously unsettling to many of them. By dawn four men had changed their stories and had charged Wardlaw with threatening them with death if they didn’t say Wardlaw’s son had been unarmed. A swamper in the saloon had been beaten as an example.
All four were locked in the jail for their own protection. Ira planned to arrest Wardlaw in the morning and take him into another jurisdiction for trial. Not only would he be charged with tampering with witnesses and assault but with attempted murder by authorizing the five-thousand-dollar reward money. Once Wardlaw was in custody, the witnesses should be safe.
The town was quiet when they finished. Ira nodded at Morgan. “Why don’t you take Miss Braden to the hotel? Take three men with you. The rest stay here. I don’t want any surprises.”
“Nick?”
“He stays here,” Ira said, making them all aware of who exactly was still in charge. Nick was technically still charged with murder by the sheriff.
Morgan and Nick exchanged quick glances, Nick’s resigned, but there was renewed life in his eyes. They were sparking with hope.
Lori went over to the Ranger captain, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek before he could respond. “Thank you,” she said simply. He flushed to his roots, turned back to another man, and barked a few orders.
Morgan chuckled and took Lori’s arm. “I think that’s the first time in his life he’s been … surprised,” he whispered loud enough for Ira to hear.
Ira turned around. “Get the hell out of here, Davis.”
“Yes, sir.” Morgan feigned meekness, and Lori once more noted the respect between the two.
Morgan led the way, nodding to three of his fellow Rangers as he went, and Lori felt rather than saw them fall into place behind them. They had almost reached the hotel when someone yelled, “Riders coming.”
Morgan pushed Lori down, and she had the impression of speed as the other Rangers went to their knees, their rifles suddenly exploding into noise, with spurts of earth flying everywhere. Morgan shoved her behind a trough, and then his six-gun too was out, so fast she could barely follow the movement.
“Braden!” She heard the shout from a distance as the firing continued and horses’ hooves pounded against the hard-packed earth of the street. One of the Rangers was lying in the street, blood pouring from his chest. The other two had found scant cover on the porch. Down the street at the sheriff’s office, rifles were spitting out their own reports, and three men on horseback went down.
“Braden,” she heard again, and she recognized Lew Wardlaw’s voice. Morgan raised his hand to signal a ceasefire. The street quickly became quiet.
An older man suddenly stood out in the twenty or more riders in the street. “Braden, this is between you and me. No need for more men to die. “
Morgan looked around. One Ranger was dead, another wounded. Others would die. This was his battle, the one he had chosen. He stood.
“No,” Lori whispered.
“He won’t give up, Lori,” Morgan said. “I’ve seen others like him. He knows it’s over, and he damn well is going to take others with him.”
“Ira?”
“He’ll leave it to me,” Morgan said, then leaned down and kissed her softly. “Haven’t you learned yet I can take care of myself, except maybe when it comes to honey-haired hellions?”
He stood suddenly and Lori started to follow, but one of the Rangers behind them held her back. “He don’t need any distractions, ma’am.”
Lori heard Morgan’s voice, now directed to Wardlaw. “Get the others out of the way.”
She heard Wardlaw’s triumphant voice. “I don’t need anyone else.”
She ceased struggling and felt the Ranger’s hands leave her as he, like the others, aimed his rifle toward the milling horsemen. Lori sat up, watching, not wanting to watch, but helpless to do anything else. She saw Morgan moving toward the center of the street, his gun back in his holster, and her gaze moved to the mounted man facing him.
“You killed my son,” Wardlaw said, slowly dismounting, his eyes never leaving Morgan.
Something pulled Lori’s attention away, the glint of a rifle from a window. She started to turn to the Ranger next to her, but he had moved away to where he could see the mounted men better. If she yelled, she knew she might distract Morgan.
She moved swiftly from the cover of the trough toward the nearest Ranger when she heard the exchange of gunfire from several feet away, from where Morgan had been standing. She saw the rifle in the window aim toward him. Instinctively, she stepped in front of it, between it and Morgan. Fire ripped through her and she felt herself falling. She tried to catch herself, but she was suddenly without substance, without bone.
Someone was picking her up. She tried to focus, but the fire inside her was becoming all encompassing.
“Morgan?” she whispered, but she didn’t hear a reply before she slipped into nothingness.
Morgan stood, watching her sleep. He hadn’t left her side in two days, and in those two days he’d lived through hell.
She’d regained consciousness several times, the first time opening her eyes and calling his name. He’d knelt beside her bed, holding her hand, trying to keep from clasping it so tightly he would crush it. She’d smiled through obvious pain, satisfied that he was all right, and then her eyes had closed again, and he’d felt so humble that he wasn’t aware of the tears trekking down his face. She hadn’t asked about herself, only about him.
Lori was sleeping quietly now, her breathing regular with the laudanum given by the doctor. The pain had been excruciating, he knew. The bullet had gone in at an angle below her breast, exiting her body at the side. She had bled profusely, but the bullet had missed any vital organs, according to the doctor. She was, he said, a very lucky young woman.
But as Morgan watched her struggle against the pain, he didn’t think she was lucky at all. He’d wanted to keep her from harm, and yet he’d been responsible for almost causing her death. He’d never put her in harm’s way again, nor could he put her through the agony he was now going through. He was learning that waiting, fearing, was even worse than being wounded oneself. He knew he could never ask Lori to spend her life waiting, fearing.
He looked over at Nick, who was sitting across from him. He wore a bump the size of a large rock. One of the Rangers had hit him in the head when he’d tried to go out into the street after Morgan had answered the challenge meant for him.
They had become closer these last two days as they had waited, feared, and suffered together. They had even talked about the future. Nick had suggested Morgan come with him to Wyoming, help establish the ranch Nick had always dreamed of. Morgan had listened but had not answered. Yet he knew he had made a decision. Nick still needed him. The posters would still be out for a while, and Lori … dammit, he would never leave Lori again.
And Ira knew, had known from the time he saw Morgan’s face as he’d picked up Lori. He’d
even wished Morgan well, telling him there was always a place for him if he changed his mind.
Lori’s eyes flickered open, and Morgan moved closer to her. There was a slight whimper before she could catch it, and Morgan thought his heart would break with the sound. “I love you,” she said clearly.
He leaned down and gathered her against him gently, putting his face next to hers, his rough face he hadn’t taken time to shave. “I love you, hellion,” he said brokenly. He hesitated, wondering if this was the time, but then, looking at her face, he knew it was.
“Would you, by any chance, consider marrying a broken-down ex-Ranger?”
Those golden eyes lit with a majesty that would brighten a kingdom, then searched his face. “Would you be … I don’t want …” She stopped, then started again. “I know how much it means …”
And suddenly, the last doubt faded from his mind and heart. Lori had been willing to give not only her life for his, but also so much more. He still couldn’t believe there was love like that, not for him. He wasn’t fool enough to lose it.
“I hear there’s a fine ranch in the making in Wyoming,” he said, his voice still cracking. “Even a partner.” He looked over at Nick, and Lori’s eyes followed his gaze, saw Nick’s sudden grin.
She took Morgan’s hand, then Nick’s, pressing them together. She didn’t need to answer Morgan’s question. The tears in her eyes, the smile tugging at her mouth, the glorious joy in her eyes did it for her.
EPILOGUE
Morgan sat on Damien, holding young Nick firmly in front of him as he looked down at the ranch house below. This was the same place he’d waited three years ago to this day. Waited and watched. But the scene below had changed, just as he had.
He had added to the cabin, and added again, and now it was a sprawling ranch house, two wings jutting out like welcoming arms.
His hands tightened around his son. Three years. It seemed impossible. He was a husband now, and a father twice over. The reality still astounded him.
Wanted Page 42
