Wanted (32 page)

I don't need it
, the Ranger had said. The only thing Nick had to bargain with, his compliance, had been thrown back in his face as worthless. It had been the most difficult offer he'd ever made—to bargain away all attempts to win his precious freedom to a man who had seduced his sister.

He'd believed for a long time that only one of them would get to Texas—he or the Ranger. Now he didn't care if neither reached its border.

You'll wish you took my offer, he promised the Ranger silently. I'll take you to hell with me.

His enemy stood above him, studying him with that same impassive expression he always wore. Only his eyes showed any kind of feeling, and only for a fraction of a second. Regret? Nick dismissed that notion almost immediately.

But then the impression was gone, and he'd turned, moving over to the fire and returning with a cup of broth, handing it to Nick. Nick took the cup, knowing he needed the warmth, the liquid, to fight the fever, to regain his strength. He needed it to kill Morgan Davis, even if he died with him.

He said as much with his eyes. The Ranger left his side and went to his horse. He took his rifle, then made his way through the woods silently until he was gone from sight.

Nick's horse was fifty feet away. It might as well have been a million. Even if he did manage to reach it, he wouldn't be able to stay on it long.

As usual, the chance the Ranger appeared to be taking was no chance at all.

Beth had been watching from where she was tending the fire, her face twisted with confusion. She was staring at both men, and the intensity of that look drew Lori to look at them too. She had grown so used to the differences between them, that she had ceased to notice the similarity in their features. But now both men had several days' growth of beard on their faces, and except for Morgan's mustache, the resemblance was little more than amazing as they stood so closely together.

“I've never seen two men look so much alike … except for some twins I knew once in Kansas City,” Beth said.

Lori shook her head. “There is no connection,” she said. “There can't be.… But that resemblance is one reason the Ranger came after Nick.”

Beth checked the coffee on the fire, as well as a pot that had been one of the belongings she'd saved from the wagon. It was filled with water, evidently for Nick. “It's … incredible.”

Lori sat down on a log Beth had dragged close to the fire. “I know. I think the Ranger is older. He looks older. He said his parents were killed in an Indian attack in Texas at the time he was born. Nick was born in Colorado.” She hesitated. “And they're nothing alike in other ways.”

“Aren't they?” Beth asked quietly.

Lori stared at her. “What do you mean?”

“Courage,” Beth said. “Strength of will. Your brother … I can't imagine how or even why he rode so long yesterday without saying anything. And did you notice how they complemented each other when they fought? Their responses when the other was in danger? I thought then they must be … close. It was almost as if … they had fought together before, that they
knew
what the other would do.”

Lori hadn't seen it. She hadn't seen it because she'd been terrified for them both. And she knew how much they disliked and distrusted one another. She stared at the two men, now disappearing among the trees. It couldn't be, she thought. They couldn't be blood related, not unless it was some crazy throwback to a common, long-ago ancestor. There was no way. She and Nick had gone over the possibility a dozen times when the Ranger was out of hearing.

She shook her head of the notion that Beth had planted there. “It's … just coincidence,” she said. “And they're
not
alike. Nick enjoys life. He likes to laugh and tease, and he takes care of people. Morgan Davis … he … never smiles. He doesn't know how to laugh. He
hunts
people. He doesn't care about them.”

“Doesn't he?” Beth asked in that soft voice of hers, tipping her head to where the two men had vanished into the forest of pines.

“No,” Lori said, aware of the emotion behind the word. She couldn't let herself think that he did. She knew these extra days would give her family time to reach Pueblo. And then what? What would happen to Morgan Davis then? And why did she now feel she was betraying him, as she felt she had Nick last night? Dear God, she was being torn apart. Her hand shook as she stuck several pieces of wood into the fire.

Just then Maggie woke with a small cry, and Beth went over to her, leaving Lori alone to consider the other woman's words, the comparisons she hadn't considered before, hadn't seen before. But she had seen others, those rare times when Nick had seemed so withdrawn, so alone, just like …

No. It just wasn't possible. Still, she felt spooked, and she knew she would now look for more comparisons. She didn't want to. She didn't want to see any. But the seed had been planted, and now it had to grow.

What if the Ranger hadn't grown up as he did, among hard men in hard country? What if Nick had grown up that way, instead? Would he still have that easy smile, that easygoing nature? What if Nick had suffered through four years of war? Would he too look older?

Don't think that way
, she told herself.
Don't equate the two men, or you can't do what must be done
.

Could she, in any event, take up arms against Morgan again? Even for Nick? She had become part of Morgan Davis last night when they'd made love. She could close her eyes and remember every sensation, every second her body and soul had closed around him and they had adventured together, sharing an exquisite journey. Her body quivered just remembering.

Trust me
, he'd said. But you couldn't demand trust. Nor could she give it simply because she wanted to.

Lori didn't want to think anymore, couldn't think without going crazy. So she turned her attention to the fire. The coffee was ready, and the broth was hot. She took both off the fire and set them aside, then found the frying pan and started biscuits. Beth had supplemented their supplies with baking soda and flour as well as potatoes and onions, and even some apples.

She looked up. The two men were returning. Nick was managing on his own, holding himself stiffly away from his captor, but Lori saw him gratefully sink down onto the blankets he'd been using. The Ranger came over to the fire and stood there, warming his hands.

“The coffee's ready,” she said, hoping that he didn't hear the slight quake in her voice, “and some broth from last night.” He merely nodded curtly, poured coffee into one cup, broth into another, and carried the latter to Nick, who took it reluctantly. Morgan then stationed himself against a tree as he so often did and watched her. She was reminded again how much the lone watcher he was.

Her gaze met his. They held, and currents rushed between them, strong and unsettling. She saw his hand tighten around the cup, and then he turned away, disappearing back into the brush, this time alone. Lori felt his loss immediately. Painfully. He had turned away from her, from the sight of her. She felt her eyes begin to mist, and she fought to keep the moisture back where it belonged. But it pounded against her eyes, against her forehead.

“Lori.” It was Beth. “Can you keep an eye on Maggie while I check your brother's wound?”

Lori nodded, and Beth picked up the pot as well as the box full of medicines she'd used last night and went over to Nick. He was sitting, leaning against a tree for support, the same tree he'd been chained to last night. The chain still hung from it as a reminder that his current freedom was momentary at best.

Lori turned away from them. She put the biscuits on the fire. When they were done, she would cook some bacon and make gravy. Some food of substance for the first time in several days. Something to occupy her mind. Some small thing to help Nick.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Lori took Maggie with her to wash clothes while Beth hovered over Nick. Everything she and Nick had was filthy, everything but the dress she still wore out of pure necessity. And Lori desperately needed something to do. Morgan Davis had disappeared early, and Nick had slept much of the morning, taking whatever food and drink offered him. Lori knew, though, that he wasn't really tasting it. He was simply eating because he needed to, because he had renewed purpose. Deadly purpose.

Nick was more bitter than she'd ever seen him. She knew he blamed the Ranger for what had happened last night—because he couldn't, wouldn't, blame her. And she felt so terribly guilty about it. Yet how could she tell her brother that what had happened had been her fault as much as the Ranger's? That she had made love to a man determined to take Nick back to Texas? That—dear God—she thought she loved the man?

How could she tell him any of that when Nick was so weak?

She tried to talk to him, but he'd turned away. Still, there was no blame in his eyes, only a fierce hatred for the Ranger. She knew he was blaming himself, not her, and that made her feel even worse. And the truth, she was afraid, would hurt him even more.

Only when Beth neared did his eyes lose some of their fierceness. He even tried to smile when Maggie sat beside him and asked him if he still hurt. The child hovered around him, perhaps because he had been the one to free her from the Ute's grasp. She seemed oblivious to the anger in him, instead her blue eyes were solemn and worried as she watched her mother change bandages.

Lori was going to take her away, but Beth shook her head. “She's used to seeing me change bandages. She likes to help,” Beth said with a slight smile. “She's a good little nurse,” she added with a smile so full of pride and love that Lori's own heart twitched.

And the child
was
enchanting. Solemn and well behaved, but curious about everything and quick to learn. Lori had observed that yesterday.

Lori watched as Beth finished bandaging Nick and washing him with the hot water, then covering him with the blankets. There was something about the three of them, Nick, Beth and Maggie, that struck Lori as particularly poignant. A gentleness, a sweetness that was almost painful. Lori had noticed yesterday an immediate attraction between Beth and Nick; she had seen it in the first warmth in Nick's eyes for weeks, in the wry twist of his lips as she nursed him, in the way his eyes followed her, and hers him.

It wasn't that fierce love-hate storm that racked Lori. There had been only a few minutes of gentleness between the Ranger and herself. A few minutes respite in the turbulence that always surrounded them. So little sweetness. So much challenge and anger.

One of those terrible contradictions again. Lori envied what she was seeing, but she didn't think she would exchange it for what she'd felt last night, the violent sea storm of excitement and feelings and emotions. She'd felt each to the core of her being. And alive. So alive. As if every emotion she'd ever had was exploding like fireworks in the sky.

She turned away, giving them privacy as she cleaned the dishes from the morning meal. By then Nick was sleeping, and Lori asked Maggie if she would like to help wash their clothes while her mother watched over Nick.

“Would you like to go with me?” she asked Maggie.

Maggie looked from her to Nick, as if weighing the decision.

“Help me wash his shirts,” Lori tempted.

Maggie looked up at her mother, who nodded.

“And we'll take Caroline,” Lori further tempted. She was increasingly drawn to the young pig. It had gobbled up grain from a sack Beth had brought along and had stolen several biscuits left from breakfast. The pig was greedy, curious, and affectionate, and Lori, who had never been around one before, was fascinated. She'd never thought of a pig as a pet.

The Ranger had simply disappeared. He had taken all the weapons, all the ammunition, and he was very aware that Nick was too ill to try to escape. Nor would Lori as long as Nick was hurt. He knew them very well by now, she thought dryly. But, then, she was beginning to know him. He wasn't nearly as impassive as he wanted everyone to believe, not just the cold, unfeeling Ranger he tried so hard to be. If only she could believe that he really could do something for Nick …

But he had too much trust in the law, so much more than either she or Nick. They had seen their fill of crooked and inept lawman. They'd paid their share of bribes to operate in a town, to have charges dismissed. To her, justice had always been a matter of money, and Ward-law had money.

She and Maggie gathered her shirt and trousers, then Nick's bloodstained shirt and his spare pair of trousers. She hesitated at the Ranger's bedroll. He was wearing the clothes he had bought in Georgetown, but he'd had no chance to wash the ones he had worn for several days. She scooped them up and put them with the others, not even trying to discern her motives.

The sun was bright and warming, the sky ever so blue. A few wispy clouds drifted slowly overhead, meandering across the heavens at about the same pace she and Maggie were making. She turned left at the stream and went downstream from where she and Morgan had been the night before. She didn't think she could bear returning to that spot.

They found some fine rocks to sit on. Lori wished she had her trousers on, but she tied her skirt up around her knees and started with Nick's shirt. That would be the worst. Bloodstained and knife-ripped. But the way Nick—and Morgan—were using up shirts, they might need it.

“Want to wash one yourself?” Lori asked. Maggie nodded and took a piece of soap Lori offered, and one of the Ranger's shirts. She needed no instruction, and Lori supposed she had helped her mother before. She was a remarkably reliant little girl.

Lori started humming “The Girl I Left Behind Me,” and soon Maggie was humming along with her.

“Tell me more stories about the Medicine Show?” she asked when Lori finished the song. So Lori did. She told Maggie about Daniel Webster.