The Loner

by Geralyn Dawson

  Now that he'd started the battle, Will refused to go down without a fight. He threw himself at the killer, his fists pummeling and scrapping for all he was worth. But Plunkett was older, bigger and meaner, and he overpowered Will. A hard elbow to the temple knocked him backward and made him see stars.

  "You stupid shit," Plunkett said as he rolled to his feet. He stood over Will, scowling down at him as he wiped bean juice and blood off his face.

  At least I bloodied his nose. Will saw the gun come up and tried not to cower. He absolutely, positively refused to pee his pants.

  He watched Plunkett cock the trigger, then he closed his eyes. Guess when it comes to luck, "like father, like son " has nothing to do with it.

  Sorry, Mama.

  CHAPTER TEN

  After giving Ellen one final hug, Caroline stepped back inside her house and shut the front door. Only then did she drop her brave facade and allow her fear full rein. She collapsed against the door, shaking like a willow in a whirlwind as her mind replayed Danny Glazier's confession.

  Her family. Oh, dear, dear Lord. Her family. How had they come to this? Suzanne murdered. Ben in some sort of trouble with Shotgun Reese's paramour. Will kidnapped by a crazed killer.

  Her estranged husband sharpening his Bowie knife in her kitchen.

  Suzanne's voice echoed in her mind. Pull yourself together, Caroline. Tears and fears won't help Will one little bit.

  "You're right," Caroline murmured. She made herself stand up straight. She drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She needed to talk to Logan, and she'd be a fool to approach him while acting like a weak-kneed female.

  You're the same woman who brought down a bank robber. You're the same woman who stayed strong in the face of a tornado. You can face anything Logan Grey has to throw at you.

  "Questionable choice of words there, Suzanne, considering that last time I saw him he was sharpening his knife," she muttered as she walked toward the kitchen door. She wasn't quite sure how to react when she saw that Logan had set down his knife.

  Now he was oiling his gun.

  At least the weapon was in pieces. "How did you know Danny was holding back?" she asked.

  He didn't look up from his work, nor did he respond. Caroline tapped her foot.

  "Did he say something that tipped you off?"

  He lifted the gun to the light and stared down the barrel.

  Caroline folded her arms. "So, you're not talking to me again? I swear you are acting like a five-year-old."

  "Actually, I'm acting about as adult as I've ever managed," he replied. "I have a powerful anger on toward you, Caroline. It's even stronger than what I felt the other day in Parkerville. I figure it's best I speak to you as little as possible, otherwise it might all bust out. Trust me, that would be very ugly."

  "Fair enough. I'm not feeling all that generous toward you right at the moment, myself. Nevertheless, we share a son and I do believe that his safety is the first priority for us both. So I'll skip the small talk and cut straight to the information I require. Do you intend to depart for Van Horn on tomorrow's train?"

  "Wait a minute. Back that wagon on up. What possible reason do you have to be angry at me?"

  Caroline wondered if this was a direction in which they really needed to go. Her emotions were as raw and jumbled as she could ever recall. She'd probably say some things she'd invariably regret, and he had warned her of his own emotional state, had he not?

  Yet, maybe it was best for them to clear the air. After all, Logan didn't know it yet, but they would be spending lots of time together. She had no intention of staying behind while he rode off to the rescue.

  "I have fifteen years' worth of reasons to be angry at you, Logan Grey. You can be angry at me all you want about the way I chose to handle Ben's disappearance, but the fact is that I did what I thought was best for my family just like I've done since the moment I realized I carried a child."

  His mouth flattened into a grim line. "You made a damn fool decision, didn't you? You knew what kind of people Ben Whitaker tangled with by going into Black Shadow Canyon, and yet you chose to leave my son unprotected and at the mercy of a coldhearted killer. That's unforgivable, Caroline."

  "That's bullshit, to put it bluntly," she fired back. "I didn't leave my son unprotected. I didn't invite Deuce Plunkett inside my home. Sure, I wish I'd done some things differently. I'd give anything to go back in time and bring Will with me to Fort Worth to keep him out of a kidnapper's clutches. But it's awfully easy to say 'should have' and 'would have' with the benefit of hindsight. It's awfully easy for you to look at my choices and say you'd have done it differently—you would have done it right—when you weren't there walking in my shoes at the time."

  "Easy! You think any of this is easy for me?" His eyes snapped and flashed. "To know that I have a son who is almost a man and I've never laid eyes on him. I've never spoken to him. I know that if I don't do everything right for the next week or so, I might never get the chance to do either one. I know my friend is lying in a hospital bed fighting pain the likes of which I can't imagine. I know that I'm actually married and that my wife is a liar and that I can't trust a thing she says or does. What's easy about any of that?"

  "Trust? You want trust?" She braced her hand on her hips. "You wanted me to trust you with the truth based on what? The way you treated me with such honor and honesty fifteen years ago? You know why you're so angry, Logan? Because deep down, you feel guilty. It's not my actions that have you so infuriated, but your own. You know that none of this would have happened if you hadn't turned your back on me all those years ago."

  A muscle worked in his jaw. "Goddammit, Caroline."

  She was on a roll. "Yes, I lied to you. Yes, I made mistakes. But every lie I told, every mistake I made, was motivated by love."

  "Oh, really?" His voice rose to nearly a shout. "What about the other night in Parkerville? That was both a lie and a mistake and love had nothing to do with it."

  The words echoed in the sudden silence and Caroline closed her eyes, absorbing the blow. A full minute passed before she responded, her voice low and calm, her heart bruised and battered. "You will think whatever you want to think, so I don't know why I'm even wasting my breath. As far as I'm concerned, our night together wasn't a lie and it wasn't a mistake. And love? Well, you obviously haven't learned anything about me because I wouldn't have been with you if my feelings weren't involved. If my heart wasn't involved at least a little bit. Not fifteen years ago, and not the other night."

  He gave a scornful laugh. "Am I supposed to believe that? Come on, Caroline."

  "I don't guess it matters what you believe, does it?"

  But it did matter, more than she wanted to even admit to herself. But he was so angry with her, and now that the initial blast of fury had dulled to this sullen ebb of ire, she wouldn't be able to reach him. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  "You know, Will is well-known for being mule-headed, and now I see that he comes by it honestly. If you could set your snit aside for a few moments, I think that even you will agree that it does Will no good for us to be at odds. I have some information about Ben and his connection to Shotgun Reese and the Plunketts that might be helpful as we search for our son. If you will—"

  "Whoa." Logan held up his hand, palm out. "Just hold on there a minute. What do you mean, we?"

  She braced herself and gathered her thoughts. She had expected this discussion, so she had her arguments prepared. "I'm going with you."

  His scowl turned thunderous. "The hell you are."

  "He's my son. I have to be there."

  With forceful, jerky motions, Logan reassembled his gun. "Don't be stupid, Caroline. You are a woman. You would be more hindrance than help."

  Typical man. "Oh, like I was more hindrance than help to you during the bank robbery?"

  "That was different."

  "How? You needed my help then and you need it now. You no longer have Cade to watch your back—"

  "Who's f
ault is that?" he snapped.

  "One more time, I'm sorry I caused Cade to be on that train. I feel terrible about it. I'd give anything to change what happened, but I can't. But you need to be done with that now, Grey. It's not helping matters." He sneered at her then, but she ignored it and continued, "I've been thinking about this. When Cade got hurt it made your job a whole lot more difficult. Not only do you need someone to watch your back, you need someone to help you slip into Black Shadow Canyon. Last time you pulled off that feat, no one knew who you were. That's not the case anymore. You'll need a disguise. What better one than me?"

  He set down his gun, folded his arms and sighed heavily. His eyes flickered with reluctant interest. "What do you mean?"

  Well, fancy that. For the first time since everything fell apart between them, he had actually listened to her. "I can ride into the canyon publicly and make a real spectacle of myself as Ben Whitaker's adoptive daughter. We can make a few changes in how you look— bleach your hair, cut it short, hide your eyes behind some heavy-rimmed glasses—and I can introduce you as my...well...I don't know. Not my bodyguard because that would be too close to who you are, but you get the idea."

  "But—"

  "I'm good with a gun, Logan. I'm smart and Ben and Will will trust me from the very beginning. That could be important if the situation were to go south."

  Logan rose and walked to the back door where he stood staring out toward the creek for a long few moments. When something in his stance told her he was about to refuse her help, Caroline added, "I won't stay behind, Logan. I'll follow you anyway."

  He twisted his head and met her gaze. "You would, wouldn't you?"

  "Count on it."

  "Do you have the slightest clue as to what you'd be letting yourself in for? The only women in that place are whores. The men are violent, lawless animals. They're no strangers to rape."

  Caroline understood that and she acknowledged her own fear of the possible dangers she might encounter. But Will was her child. "I am willing to take any risk for my son. I will sacrifice my life for him if necessary. I know you think I'm a poor excuse for a mother, but you are wrong, Logan Grey. I am a good mother to Will. A loving mother. A caring mother. Believe me when I tell you, I am not staying behind. I know I'll have to be careful. I also know that just like I'll be there to watch your back, you'll be there to watch mine."

  "Jesus, Mary and Joseph," he muttered after a moment's pause. "I have to be crazy to even consider this."

  "I was of assistance during the bank robbery, don't forget. I was calm and cool and helped save the day. Our boy needs his parents, Logan. Both of them."

  He muttered a curse, then added, "Tell me everything you know about Ben Whitaker and the Plunketts."

  "So, you agree? You won't fight me about coming with you?"

  "I'll have a few conditions and some rules you have to agree to follow."

  "Rules? What sort of rules?"

  "I'm not sure. I need a little time to think about them. Now, talk to me about Ben so I can figure out a plan on just how we'll get into Black Shadow Canyon."

  Two days later in the hotel room he had rented upon arriving in Van Horn, aware that both he and Caroline needed a good night's sleep in preparation for the grueling combination desert-and-mountain trip ahead, Logan planted his feet, folded his arms and gave his wife a bulldog look. "For the last time, I'm not shaving my head."

  They'd argued the point off and on since they started planning the trip into Black Shadow Canyon. Logan couldn't believe some of the crazy ideas his wife had spouted while calmly sitting and sewing on a dress. He wondered if Will had the same outrageous imagination as she did.

  Caroline responded to his declaration with a disapproving frown. "I never guessed you'd be so vain."

  "It's not vanity!" he fired back, knowing he lied. "I simply don't agree it's the most effective way to change my appearance."

  "Oh? And your plan to switch from a black shirt and hat to a white shirt and hat is?"

  "I've always worn black."

  Was that a little smile of satisfaction that flashed across her face?

  "I agree that if you won't make a major change to your physical features, then changing your costume is the next best thing. However, I'm afraid your color choices aren't bold enough to make a real difference, and since our mission is so vital—our son's life is at stake—I want you to have the best possible disguise."

  Caroline pulled a stack of clothing from one of the carpetbags she'd toted along from Artesia. "You'll need to go with these, Logan."

  His chin dropped. "Good Lord. Orange britches? Where the hell did you get those?"

  "They're not orange, they're pumpkin. The pants and the vests are costumes from the Artesia Playhouse. The actor who wore them is similar to you in size, so they should fit well enough." She held a purple vest against him and measured him with her eyes.

  When she pulled a lavender scarf from the bag, he scowled and took a step backward. "Hell, why don't you just put me in a dress?"

  "I'm afraid that would attract too much attention."

  There. He saw it. Her lips twitched again.

  "The idea is to make the new you look as different from the old you as possible," she continued, reaching once more into her bag.

  When she pulled out a little bowler hat, he put his hands on his hips. "Oh, for God's sake. That's going too far."

  "Actually, I'm afraid it's not far enough." She placed the hat atop his head, then studied him. Her teeth tugged at her lower lip as she worriedly shook her head. "Maybe if you wore your medallion outside your shirt rather than inside as is your habit.. .but no. We want the outlaws' eyes to skim, not focus.

  "They'll take one look at me and shoot me!"

  She clucked her tongue. "It's almost impossible to make you look effeminate. You will need to work hard to look less manly. You need to slump more, Logan. Try to look...limp."

  He swiped the hat off his head. "I knew I was making a mistake listening to you," he grumbled. He still wasn't certain exactly why he had. He was still furious with her, wasn't he? Still angry about her lying and scheming ways?

  Yes, except he couldn't quite work up the mad he'd had on before she'd let him have it with both barrels. Damned if he couldn't see her side of the argument. He didn't have to like it, but that didn't mean he couldn't see her point.

  When it came right down to the nut-cutting, didn't he want his boy to have a lioness for his mother? Would he respect any woman who wouldn't go to any lengths to protect the ones she loved? Just because she loved that old geezer Whitaker, whom he didn't consider worthy of that love, didn't lessen the value of her gift.

  In a moment of brutal self-honesty, he'd come to realize that his fury was rooted not in guilt as she'd charged—he'd pretty much made his peace there—but rather in bruised and battered pride.

  Ego. Hurts like a son of a bitch when it comes out swinging.

  She'd fooled him, sold him possum hide for rabbit fur and slept with him, to boot. No man worth his salt liked it when a woman played him false, and he'd not been willing to look past his anger until...well, to be honest. . .until she'd thrown the idea of love into the mix.

  Hell, maybe he ought to wear a dress. Since when had his emotions gone and gotten all female?

  Since that moment in her kitchen, he admitted. She'd gotten to him with that big-eyed declaration of "feelings being involved." It was stupid that he even paid attention. After all, lust was a "feeling" wasn't it? His own "feelings" had damned sure been involved that night.

  But, she'd also said "heart." Her heart had been involved.

  It wasn't just lust for her, but something more, and once he'd calmed down enough to realize it, the fact had soothed his battered pride. Being a man, he also knew she wasn't free with her favors. If she'd been honest about anything, it was that she hadn't been with anyone but him.

  So, now what?

  They continued their arguing and bickering, but the sharp edge was missing in their
interactions. The sizzle, however, had returned the minute the haze of anger faded away—at least from Logan's point of view it had. He couldn't tell what Caroline was thinking—they hadn't exactly kissed and made up.

  "Oh, don't be such a grump," she scolded. "I'm not saying you have to wear them all the time. Just when we get close to the canyon. You still have a few days to work up to the indignity of wearing puce."

  His brows arched in alarm. "Wearing what?"

  She laughed and only then did he notice the teasing glint in her eyes. "It's a color. Sort of a reddish-brown."

  "How can you be so cavalier about this?"

  "We're closer to finding Will. That brings my spirits up immeasurably."

  Her spirits weren't the only thing rising at the moment. Dammit, what was it about the two of them and hotel rooms? At least he'd been able to rent two rooms this time. As much as the idea appealed, he didn't think that another roll in the sheets would be in their best interest at this particular moment.

  It didn't help that he remembered how she felt. How she melted in his arms. How she smelled—like lemons and sunshine. It didn't help that she smiled at him, either. Or that she laughed.

  The trail ahead of them was long and dangerous and it required focused attention and clear thinking. In his experience, sex blurred a man's focus and clouded his mind.

  As his gaze made a lingering journey down his wife's curvaceous figure, he further admitted that sex with Caroline just made him stupid. Time to get out of this hotel room.

  Although, she was his wife. He did have every right...

  That would be a big mistake. Huge. Colossal.

  Stupid.

  I'd be satisfied, but stupid.

  He cleared his throat. "Give me the damned britches. We'd both better hit the hay. We need to be up, fed and ready to ride at first light. Can you manage that?"

  She handed him the clothes. "I promised you I wouldn't slow you down. I meant it."

  "Good." He tucked the offensive garments under his arm, and tipped an imaginary hat. "Good night, then. Hope you rest well."