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by Julia Barrett


  “But you’re Wolf too,” she said.

  Lucas nodded. “I don’t want to be him. But I am. I don’t want to know things a man shouldn’t know. But I do.”

  Syd rested her head against his shoulder. She knew any argument was futile. What he was… He was impossible. She knew how long it had taken her to come to terms with it. “When will you leave?”

  “I’m packed. I’ve loaded up my horse,” he said. “I’m leaving now.”

  “What did you tell him?” Syd slammed the kitchen door behind her.

  “I told him the truth. Isn’t that what you wanted him to know, the truth?”

  She stomped right past the sheriff. “You had no right, Cass. No right.”

  “I had just as much right to tell him as you, maybe more.”

  Syd paced in front of the stove. “I should go after him. I need to bring him back.”

  Cass shook his head. He held out a glass of orange juice. “That’s the last thing you should do. Right now you need to shut up, sit down, and drink this or I’ll haul your ass into town and tell your doctor to force feed you.”

  Syd grabbed the glass from his hand, sloshing juice over the rim and onto her jacket. “He might not come back.”

  “I know.” Cass swung a chair around behind her. “Here, sit down before you fall down.” He gently pushed her back and when she sat he knelt in front of her. Cass took her hands in his. “Listen to me, kiddo. Sometimes you have to take a risk. And in this case, I don’t think you have a say. Lucas needed to know the truth, and now it’s up to him to find a way to live with it.”

  “Bu what if…?” Syd couldn’t finish her sentence.

  “Like I said, it’s a risk, but it’s a risk you have to take. If Lucas can’t come to terms with what he is, it’ll always be between you like some no man’s land, a demilitarized zone. Like a minefield waiting for one of you to take a wrong step. You don’t want that.”

  She looked up. “What if I want him any way I can get him?”

  Cass squeezed her hands. “Well, I guess that’s your task, to figure out how to live your life no matter what he decides.”

  Stay

  ucas had time to think on the drive back to Nebraska, a hell of a lot more time than he wanted. All he could think about was leaving Syd behind. Every twenty miles he had to fight the urge to turn the truck around and race back to her.

  Sydney Blake.

  I fell from the sky for you, Sydney Blake.

  Oh, he remembered saying those words all right. He knew to the depths of his immortal soul what he’d given up to come to her, but more than that, he knew what he’d sacrificed to save Cass Weber. He’d found the love of his life and lost her, only to find her all over again. And none of it made a lick of sense, except maybe the archangel’s warped sense of humor in sending him back as an infant.

  Those were Wolf’s thoughts and memories, not his.

  But they were his too.

  How the hell was he going to co-exist with Wolf? How would he live with eons of memories? Not the memories of one lifetime, not the memories of two, but ages and ages stretching into infinity.

  It was enough to drive a crazy man insane.

  He fished the chunk of gold from his pocket and held it in his palm, felt the warmth of it, the weight of it, the possibilities it represented.

  His mother would know. She had to know something.

  His life felt like a puzzle missing critical pieces. His mother could probably supply a few of them.

  But the others, what about the other pieces? What about his daughter, Sara? What about Nathan de Manua, her husband and Guardian? What about their daughter, his granddaughter? She must have been born by now.

  It was impossible. How was a plain old cowpoke from Nebraska supposed to accept the impossible?

  Lucas dropped the gold back into his pocket. Well, it was easier than denying it. Couldn’t stuff the demons back in once Pandora’s Box had been opened.

  He snorted. If history as he remembered it was a case in point, the lid never did fit well in the first place.

  Stay

  is mother stepped in front of the backhoe, arms waving; mouth moving. From his perch high up in the cab, Lucas couldn’t hear a word she said.

  He brought the machine to a stop and turned off the engine.

  She called out to him again.

  “Huh? I can’t hear you, Mom.” He hopped down from the cab. “What did you say?”

  She put her hands on her hips and looked around. “You know, this road can wait. Your brothers can finish it up before winter.”

  He shook his head. “No, I want to get it done. These ruts are hazardous, especially when the road gets wet. I don’t like you driving on it in bad weather.”

  She took his arm. “Well, I appreciate it, I do, but you worry me, son. You haven’t stopped moving since the day you came back. You barely even sit still for a meal.”

  Lucas couldn’t stop. If he stopped he’d think.

  When he thought he thought about Sydney Blake.

  He wondered what she was doing. How big the baby was getting. If she had enough help to move the cows up to the high country. He wondered if she thought of him. If he invaded her dreams the way she did his every single night.

  Living away from Syd was pure torture, self-imposed torment.

  “There’s that look again.”

  “What look?”

  “You can’t fool me, Lucas. I’ve known you since the day you were conceived.”

  Her words got a smile out of him. He patted her hand. “I’m not trying to fool you, Mom.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “The hell you’re not. Anyway, you’ve got a visitor up at the house. That’s what I came to tell you.”

  A visitor? He felt like the proverbial rug had been pulled out from under him.

  What if something has happened to her?

  He’d never forgive himself. He’d left her all alone, abandoned her when things were getting tough. If anything happened to her or the baby it was on his head.

  Lucas stumbled forward, the toes of his boots catching in the dirt he’d piled up on the side of the road. If his mother hadn’t grabbed his arm, he would have fallen to his knees.

  “Lucas, whatever is the matter?”

  He struggled to find his voice. “Who is it? Who’s here?”

  “A gentleman from England.” His mother shot him an appraising look. “His name is Nathaniel Henry Neville, and he’s a nobleman. How’s that for a name?” She chuckled. “He told me I could call him Nate.”

  De Manua.

  Lucas had spent the past six weeks trying to regain some sense of normalcy; trying to acquire some perspective about what and who he really was, or what and who he had been once upon a time. Now de Manua would throw it all in his face.

  Perspective seemed determined to elude him.

  Fuck. He’d be forced to stare straight into that funhouse mirror all over again.

  “Do you know him? Do you know what he wants?”

  “Yes.”

  “You do?” His mother stopped in her tracks. “Well whoever he is and whatever he wants you don’t seem very happy. What’s going on, son?”

  Lucas shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Lucas, you’ve been flitting around like a bat since the day you showed up at my kitchen door. I’ve respected your privacy but this is too much. An English nobleman appears in the backwoods of Nebraska and you don’t want to talk about it.” She put a hand on the top of her head. “I’ve had it about up to here with your privacy. What on earth is going on?”

  He was reluctant to meet her eyes, but he did. “I can’t, not now, Mom. Maybe later, after…”

  “After you speak with Mr. Neville?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “Maybe after I speak with Mr. Neville.”

  Wary, eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring, the two men circled each other in the small kitchen, each man taking the measure of the other.

  “Why are you here, de
Manua?”

  “I could ask you the same, Guardian.”

  “The name is Lucas, Lucas Jennings. This is my home.”

  The man laughed. “I call your bluff. You are Lucas Jennings in the same way I am Nathaniel Henry Neville. And you are a bigger coward than I ever was. Your home is with her.”

  “Enough. You have no right to judge me.” Lucas readied himself for an attack.

  Fists clenched, Nathan edged closer. “You kept me in limbo for centuries. I have every right.”

  “That was not my doing. I followed orders.”

  “Orders…? Is that what you call it? Allowing me to suffer? Risking the life of your own daughter, your granddaughter?” Nathan shook his head. “You haven’t changed, Guardian. You still have no real heart, no soul. You haven’t lost a single ounce of your precious golden armor.”

  Lucas knew the man was goading him, but he was beyond caring. So many memories, so many lives… It was more than any human could stand.

  Lucas charged, slamming his shoulder into Nathan’s chest, his fist connecting with Nathan’s jaw. They crashed to the floor in a heap of flailing arms, legs and fists, both men landing blows, but neither man able to gain an advantage.

  “Get up.” Lucas felt a hand smack the back of his head. “Get up off the floor, both of you. Behaving like children. Look at my kitchen. Look at it.”

  Lucas let go of Nathan and rolled over onto his back. His mother glared down at the two of them.

  “Your lip’s bleeding.” She pointed to his mouth. “And your eye is already swelling.” She waved a hand in Nathan’s direction. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you two are fighting over a woman.”

  Panting, Lucas groped to his feet. He offered Nathan a hand, surprised when the man took it. Lucas hauled Nathan upright. Lucas studied the damage he’d inflicted on Nathan before he gingerly touched his own lip. “At least you didn’t knock out a tooth,” he said.

  Nathan’s smile was humorless. “It wasn’t for lack of trying. Your perfect teeth have annoyed the hell out of me for centuries.”

  Lucas’s mother stepped between them, hands on her hips. “Will somebody please tell me how you two know each other and why in god’s name you’re trying to beat each other to a pulp in my kitchen?”

  The two men exchanged glances.

  Nathan spoke up. “Would you give us a few moments, Mrs. Jennings?”

  She crossed her arms and glowered at them both. At last she said, “Well, my garden needs a little work.” She opened the freezer and pulled out two bags of frozen peas. “Here, these will help with the swelling.” She tossed the bags on the table and left the men alone.

  Lucas grabbed one of the bags of peas and pressed it against his mouth. He handed the other to Nathan. “For your eye,” he said.

  “Thanks.” Nathan studied the ice cold bag, holding onto it with his fingertips. “Once upon a time we didn’t need a bag of peas.”

  Lucas snorted. “Once upon a time we were immortal, or in your case, dead.”

  “Well, no more. What do we do about this situation?”

  “You’ve already done your part,” said Lucas. “You’ve married Sara. You have your daughter, Katie. Your life is your own.”

  “Katie is your granddaughter.”

  Lucas shrugged. “That’s not something I can ever admit to, for her sake, for Sara’s sake.” He eyed Nathan. “Why did you bother coming here?”

  “I came because someone has to force you to join the human race.” Nathan leaned back against the refrigerator, holding the bag of frozen peas to his face. “Since I know what you are and I know what you are going through, I volunteered.” He looked Lucas right in the eye. “You can’t leave her alone any longer.”

  Lucas tossed his bag into the sink. “How is she?”

  “Holding up.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Yes, Guardian, that bad.” The words were said with a sneer. “Your son will be born in four months, maybe sooner. Do you plan to be there? You have an opportunity to raise your own child, something you were denied with Sara.”

  Lucas opened his mouth to answer, but he closed it again. He had no answer. That was a low blow. Nathan knew how to hit him where he lived.

  “You know, I never liked you much, but I certainly never pegged you for a coward,” Nathan said.

  Lucas clenched his fist. “I can blacken that other eye for you.”

  Nathan shook his head. “You won’t. You won’t because there was a day when I stood in your shoes and just like you I slunk off with my tail between my legs, a bloody deserter. As it happened I came across a fellow and he told me a story about a ring. He opened my eyes. Do you remember that, Guardian?”

  Lucas licked at his bruised lip. He needed the metallic taste of his own blood to ground him in the present. “I remember.”

  “Perhaps there’s a story associated with that.” Nathan pointed at the chunk of gold hanging on a chain around Lucas’s neck. “I suggest you ask the person who gave it to you. She may provide the answers you seek. I’m not supposed to remember half the things I do, but we aren’t privy to everything, Guardian. Even you don’t know everything.”

  Lucas wrapped his fist around the hunk of metal. It felt hot in his hand. “Where’s Sara?”

  “She and Katie are visiting friends in California,” said Nathan.

  “Why aren’t you with her?”

  “I was with her, but the sheriff, Cass Weber, gave me another call a few months back. From what he said I suspected I’d find someone like me. I didn’t realize I’d find you. When I arrived in Bozeman, I discovered you’d already run off.” Nathan threw his bag of peas down onto the table as if issuing a challenge. “I knew it was you the minute I met the sheriff. I could smell you.” Arms crossed, he glared at Lucas. “Sydney plans to move the cows up to the high country next week. It will be difficult and dangerous work in her condition. I thought you should know, Guardian.”

  His mother looked up from her weeding. “Is he gone?”

  Lucas nodded.

  “Who is he, Lucas?”

  “Someone I know from a long time ago.”

  “You can’t kid a kidder, son, so don’t even try.” She rose to her feet. “You forget, I know everyone you know from a long time ago. It’s not as if a nobleman from England could keep his identity a secret out here in the Badlands. Besides…”

  Lucas held the chunk of gold tight in his fist. “Besides… What?

  His mother turned away and looked off toward the distant hills. “Do you know a mother can recognize her own child by his smell?” She glanced back at Lucas and rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I mean. It’s like the cows or the horses‌—‌any animal. Every child has his or her own unique smell.”

  “I must be dense,” Lucas said, “Because I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

  “The moment I held you in my arms, the moment I brushed my lips over the top of your head and inhaled your scent, I knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  “I knew you were different.”

  Lucas felt a sudden need to sit down. He perched on the edge of a large rock. “Different?”

  “You know the story of your birth, don’t you?”

  “Dad always said I was born in a late spring blizzard.”

  His mother nodded. “It’s true, you were born in a blizzard, but he left out the rest of the story because he didn’t know the rest of the story. I never told him.”

  “He never knew the…? What are you talking about?”

  She brushed the hair from his eyes with a gentle hand. “Yes, there was a blizzard the night you were born, a terrible blizzard. Your father had taken your brothers down the road to help your grandmother plow her lane and they got stuck there for the night. The snow was too deep and the winds too strong. It wasn’t safe for them to drive home. I wasn’t worried. I told them to stay put.” She shrugged by way of staving off any questions. “You weren’t due for another few weeks.”

  �
�So what happened?”

  “I woke in the middle of the night to a big flash of light and a crash of thunder. Lightning in the middle of a blizzard… Can you imagine?”

  “Yes, Mom, I can.” He made room for her to sit beside him. “Go on.”

  “I got up to check and see if there had been any damage. It sounded so close, as if it was right on top of the house. When I reached the kitchen I tried to flip on the light switch, but nothing happened. The power had been knocked out. I intended to pick up the phone, to see if I had phone service, but halfway across the kitchen my water broke.” She shook her head. “There was nothing I could do. I couldn’t leave the house. Nobody could come to me.”

  Lucas took her hand. “It’s all right, Mom. It wasn’t your fault.”

  She smiled up at him. “I’m not saying it was. If I had called your father I guarantee he’d have killed himself trying to get home. I couldn’t let that happen. So I prepared the best I could.”

  “Jesus. I feel responsible, Mom. You were there all alone because I decided to arrive in the middle of a blizzard.”

  Her voice was soft. “I wasn’t alone.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said I wasn’t alone.” She squeezed his hand. “You know you’re the first person I’ve told. Nobody knows about this.”

  Lucas had to know. “Who was with you?”

  “He didn’t tell me his name.” She shook her head. “Or if he did I don’t remember hearing it. I was otherwise occupied. I was lying in the middle of the kitchen floor. There was another flash of lightning. It lit up the whole house. Sparks shot through the room. I thought maybe the house had caught fire and here I was, stuck on the floor, in labor. And then the door blew open and there he stood in the open doorway, taking up all the space. He was a big man, a big, strong man.” She paused for a moment. “I didn’t know what to do, what to think, but I didn’t really have the wherewithal to be afraid of him. He walked right in like he owned the place and he stayed with me, helped me. When you were born, he caught you.” She smiled a small smile. “He held you even before I did.”

 

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