“I hope you’re right.” He looked down at her, longing in his eyes, as well as determination. He leaned down from his horse and his hand touched her face and then he kissed her. Softly. Slowly. In front of everyone.
It was good-bye. She knew it. She reached up, grabbed his hand, holding it for a moment. She felt a tear rolling down her cheek. “Be careful,” she whispered.
He nodded, then trotted over to where his mother stood. He looked at her for a long time and then leaned down and kissed her cheek. Beth saw tears on her cheeks too, and she went over to her as Nick straightened. Beth clutched the woman’s hand as the man who had so completely invaded her heart took the reins of the second horse from Andy and rode away without another word, without looking back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Morgan tried to relax, but he couldn’t. His orderly world had exploded into chaos. He had no idea how to right it again. He didn’t even know whether he wanted to, not back to the way it had been. He knew he damn well couldn’t return to the solitary world he’d built these past few years. In these past weeks he’d found a magic he’d never known existed. He loved and had been loved. It was a touch of heaven that he never thought to have, and he yearned for more.
And a brother. Daniel Webster’s expression, if not words, had been the final confirmation he needed. It was uncharted, this discovery of family, and he didn’t know what to do with it. Part of him wanted to tell everyone, most of all Nick Braden. He still could, by asking Daniel to go after him. But he knew how unwelcome would be the prospect of being related to the man who’d made his life hell. It would be a bitter shock to Nick, who apparently loved the family he already had.
Morgan knew he would be a damn poor substitute.
He stood, wishing the small man would return. Morgan had liked him. Daniel Webster was a man tempered by misfortune and made strong by it. There was a compassion in him, and even humor, where many would have had only bitterness. That Nick and he had so much affection for each other reflected well on both men, and Morgan knew that he would never again prejudge anyone. He had so readily believed the rumors about the Medicine Show, when rumors followed so many of that type of business. He had accepted the worst said about Nick and Lori because he usually accepted the worst about people. No wonder they believed the worst of him now.
The fact was, he had come to believe that Nick was the better man of the two of them. Nick had been friend and protector, while Morgan had been hunter and killer. Killer on the side of the law, but killer all the same. And now, as the leg iron pulled on his left ankle and handcuffs bound his wrists, he knew exactly the hopelessness and the frustration Nick had felt these past weeks, and Morgan wondered whether he could ever tell him they were brothers. Better to let him think that Andy and Lori were his siblings.
He could give him one gift, though. Whether or not Nick went back with him, Morgan intended to clear him. If it took him the rest of his life, he would prove Nick Braden innocent.
The sun was going down in the west when Daniel appeared again, seemingly out of nowhere. He seemed years older than an hour before. He handed Morgan a slender flask, and Morgan tipped it, taking an exploratory sip, then an appreciative one.
“Tell me everything you’ve heard about your birth,” Daniel said, as if he’d suddenly made a decision. Morgan started to do just that when they heard the sound of pounding hoofbeats. They both turned in the direction of the sound.
Nick pulled up on Dickens. He had Morgan’s horse, now equipped with Morgan’s own saddle, in tow. He slipped down from the saddle and walked over to Morgan, fishing in his pocket for keys. He unlocked the handcuffs, then handed Morgan the key to the leg irons, ignoring Morgan’s astonished look as the Ranger leaned down, unlocked his leg, and straightened up again.
Nick had taken his gun from his holster, was handling it as a man does before reluctantly giving it up.
“What in the hell …?”
“I want you to take me into Pueblo.”
“Take you …?”
“They have Lori. Those bounty hunters you mentioned,” Nick said, his voice nearly strangled. “I want you to trade me for her.”
Morgan’s heart stopped, then thudded heavily against its cage. “You know what will happen. They don’t take back live prisoners.”
“Will you do it?”
“Do you know where they are?”
Nick shook his head. “They apparently took her from the stable in Pueblo. That’s why you have to take me into town, so they can make contact.”
“And just hand you over?”
“That’s right,” Nick said evenly. “You’ve told me repeatedly my life expectancy isn’t that long, in any event. You’ve also said you didn’t care about the bounty on my head. This way you get Lori and get rid of me, and all the damn trouble that poster cost you.”
Morgan wondered whether he deserved that or not. In either case, each word hacked through his heart like a rusty sword. “I have a better idea,” he said slowly.
“Hell, I thought you would jump at it.”
“Then you don’t know me very well.”
“I don’t want to know you at all. I just want you to do this one thing. For Lori. I thought … you might care something about her.”
“Will you listen for a moment?”
Nick was nearly shaking with anger. Morgan saw him visibly try to control it. “I’m listening.”
“We’ll trade places. If I shave off this mustache, no one will know the difference.”
“Why?” Nick demanded suspiciously.
“Because I’ll have a chance and you won’t,” Morgan said softly. “Because I won’t hesitate to kill when it’s necessary.”
Nick retorted angrily, “I killed Wardlaw. That’s what started this whole goddamn mess.”
“Lori said you tried to avoid it, that he moved in front of a bullet.”
“I’m no coward,” Nick said furiously.
“That’s for goddamn sure,” Morgan said, one side of his mouth quirking up. “But killing takes practice, and you just don’t have it. I’m not all that proud that I have.”
Nick hesitated, out of arguments and out of time. “She’s my sister.”
“And I love her,” Morgan said softly. “How will she feel if I do what you suggest?”
Nick looked stunned. “Love?”
“Odd, isn’t it?” Morgan said. “I wouldn’t have believed it myself a few weeks ago.” He looked bemused before continuing. “My shaving gear is in the saddlebags.” He looked down at the gun. “Can I get it?”
Nick nodded, the stunned look still in his eyes. “That doesn’t mean I agree to your proposal.”
“I know,” Morgan said gently as he looked over at Daniel, who was listening intently. Morgan shook his head, warning the man not to say anything about their previous conversation. He nodded slightly.
Ten minutes later Morgan had finished shaving by the river. He looked up and saw Nick’s face. He looked in the small mirror he was using, then up at Nick’s. Christ, but they were the same. Without the mustache there were no differences, just those few lines around the eyes, a little more weathering of the skin on Morgan’s face.
“Damn,” Nick whispered.
Morgan rose. “My gun?”
“In my saddlebags,” Nick said.
Morgan went over to the saddlebags and took out his gunbelt, the pistol in the holster. He checked it for ammunition and found it loaded. His knife was also in place. He took out the knife, cut the end of the saddle blanket into three thin strips, then tied the gun to the outside of the calf of his leg and pulled his trouser leg over it. He then tied the knife to the other leg. “They probably won’t check for weapons, not if they believe I’m your prisoner. I’m usually pretty thorough,” he said dryly.
“I know,” Nick said. “Too well. But I’m still not sure about this. I’d rather …”
Morgan found the handcuffs on the ground where they had been left, picked them up, and locked them back onto his wri
sts. “Just think of it this way, Braden,” he said. “If I don’t make it, you’re home free. And if I happen to take them with me, you can collect the reward. I hope to hell you take my body back as yours. You should like that piece of irony.”
“I don’t like it at all,” Nick said. “I don’t like anything about this.”
“But it’s Lori’s best hope, and you know it,” Morgan said quietly, all the mockery gone. “This way we’re both armed. They won’t be expecting it. All their attention will be on the man they believe is more dangerous, not the man in handcuffs. That gives me an edge.”
“Even in handcuffs?”
Morgan nodded. “Even in handcuffs. Tell them you lost the key in a fight with me. I’ll have it with me. I can slip out of them anytime I want.”
“What if they don’t believe it?”
“I have a certain … reputation,” Morgan said matter-of-factly, without arrogance. “I don’t make mistakes.” His lips suddenly twitched. “Until I met Lori.”
Nick ignored the last comment. “Why should they think you’d give me up, then?”
“Lori. A woman. They think that way. And they’ll jump at the chance of taking you without fighting me. They don’t like risking their necks. They much prefer bush-whacking and back shooting. They would think it’s not all that important to me, anyway.” Morgan shrugged. “They just figure you’d end up the same way, anyway, and that that’s all I wanted. They wouldn’t see the difference.”
“I don’t think I do, either,” Nick said wryly. “Dead is dead. Whether by the law or bounty hunters.”
“We always did have a difference of opinion on that,” Morgan said.
“That’s because you’re not on the receiving end.”
“No,” Morgan allowed with a slight curl to his mouth. He held up his handcuffed wrists. “I’m beginning to see your point of view, though.”
Nick stilled. “Does that mean …?”
Morgan shook his head. “If we both get out of this alive, I still want you to go back.”
“Want?”
Morgan shrugged. “Do you really want to go through this the rest of your life? Worrying about your back? About Lori? About the others?”
“You have it all figured, don’t you?” Nick said bitterly.
“Yeah,” Morgan said without humor, “I always have everything figured.”
They took a room in town, the same hotel where Jonathon had been staying. The handcuffs were chafing Morgan’s wrists, but he didn’t dare take them off. The pistol was rubbing against his leg, and the knife wasn’t any more comfortable.
Nick had been silent during the ride to town. He had dropped Daniel off near the Medicine Wagon but had stayed out of sight. Morgan knew he didn’t want explanations. Neither did he.
Nick signed Morgan’s name on the register. Morgan hoped that no one knew he wasn’t left-handed. The clerk briefly protested the prisoner’s presence, suggesting he be taken to the jail.
“I don’t let him out of my sight,” Nick said in a harsh voice Morgan recognized as close to his own. Nick was a natural mimic.
Nick then took his arm none too gently and guided him up to the room. “Ever think about being a lawman?” Morgan said, trying hard to keep sardonic humor from his voice. He didn’t think Nick would appreciate it. Humor was rare for Morgan, but he felt the need to say something to break the tension.
Nick’s glare was withering. He went to the window and looked out. Morgan followed him, leaning against the opposite windowsill. It was full dark now, but lights in the store windows made the streets visible. They heard a train whistle. More people were in the streets now, visiting saloons. Cowboys, train workers, drifters.
Morgan suddenly stiffened as he saw a lone rider stop down the street at a hotel. Nick looked at him curiously.
“Curt Nesbitt,” Morgan said. “It was his brother I killed.”
“You mean I killed,” Nick said, his lips twisting in an ironic smile, referring to their changed roles.
“Well, he doesn’t know it, and I think it’s best he doesn’t find out,” Morgan said. “I’ve run into him before. Like Whitey, he’s a bounty hunter who prefers to take back dead men.”
“What do we do now?”
A current of warmth snaked through Morgan. A small bit of trust was developing between them. Not much on Nick’s part, but a beginning.
“Wait for him to find us,” he said. “He mustn’t know that we already know they have Lori.” He went over to the bed and sat down, leaning lazily against the wall.
The knock came approximately fifteen minutes later. Gun in hand, Nick cautiously opened the door as Morgan tried to look suitably sullen. It was the clerk who took one look at the gun, at Nick’s dour face, and shoved a note into his hand.
“From a man who says he’s a friend of yours,” he said, and stepped backward cautiously before scurrying down the steps.
Nick turned to Morgan. “Damn,” he said. “I’ve never frightened anyone like that before. I’d hate to think I’ve started looking like you.”
Morgan started to smile, but his lips thinned into a hard line as he walked over to read the note over Nick’s shoulder.
Lori Braden is with us. North road
out of Pueblo at ten tonight.
“No threats, no evidence,” Morgan said. “He’s smarter than I thought.”
“What time is it?”
Morgan took out his pocket watch. “Eight.”
“How did they know we would be here?”
“Same way your family did, I expect. They’re hunters, too. They would have checked the telegraph from George-town to see whether any messages were sent. When Lori showed up, they must have known we would be nearby.”
Nick’s brows furrowed together. “They would have found us in Wyoming.”
“Yep, and not too long after I did.”
Nick crushed the note in his hands and went back to the window. It was going to be a long evening.
Lori cried out as the fist hit her face again. She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to give him the pleasure. The man called Whitey seemed to enjoy inflicting pain.
But it had been unexpected. He had stopped for a while, then suddenly turned and hit already-bruised skin.
“Where are they?”
“I don’t know,” she said again. “I escaped from the Ranger two days ago. He was headed straight down to Texas.”
“Then why did you send a telegram to your family to meet you here?”
“The … Ranger found out that I knew where they were headed. He overheard me talking to Nick. He changed course. I ran away.”
“I don’t believe you. I heard there was something between you and Morgan.”
“That pig! I shot him.”
His hand traveled along her cheek. She was hog-tied, her hands bound behind her and then tied by a short rope to her ankles. She shuddered at his touch.
“Did you do that for the Ranger, too?” Whitey said. “Shiver like that?” His finger dug down into her shirt, finding her breast. “You like that? Or do you like being hit?”
“I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”
He backhanded her. “I don’t believe you. I want to know where they are.”
Her head hit the ground, and she feigned unconsciousness. The other man, Ford, had reluctantly left earlier, ordered to check the hotels once more to see whether their quarry had arrived. She heard the man curse. She had to buy some time. She had to. Buy time for Nick to escape. She hoped he would be free by now. And Morgan?
Dear God, he didn’t know what he was walking into, didn’t know about the ambush her family had planned for him. She was afraid to try the ropes, afraid to give any indication that she was conscious. It was one of the hardest physical things she’d done, trying to remain so still when she hurt so badly. The rope was cutting into her wrists, her ankles, and her legs were cramping.
As long as possible. Hold out as long as possible, her mind kept repeating. One minute, then another. A
nd another. Remember Morgan, how he seared his own wound. If he could stand that kind of pain, you can stand a lesser one.
Another moment.
Then she heard the horse coming. She would have prayed, but she didn’t know what to pray for.
“Ford, did you find out anything?” Whitey asked.
“They’re there all right. At the Trader’s Post Hotel. I wrote what you told me. The north road at ten.”
“A shame,” Whitey said. “I was just beginning to like the idea of keeping her.”
“You said …”
“I know what I said, but no woman is worth five thousand dollars,” Whitey said. Lori felt his hand snake along her cheek again, and she couldn’t help flinching this time. His flesh was cold and cruel and repulsive. “You hear that? I guess we’ll just have to wait for another time. If they come, that is. They may not think you’re worth it, trading your brother for you, and then you and I can have a high old time. I’ve never had no five-thousand-dollar whore before.”
She turned around and spit at him, and he slapped her again.
“Do that once more,” he said, “and I’ll show you who’s boss and take my chances with Davis.”
“He won’t trade my brother,” she said with complete confidence. “And he’ll kill you.”
Whitey smirked. “So you don’t hate him, after all. What a good little liar you are. Just how much is there between you?”
“There’s nothing! I just know he doesn’t release prisoners.”
“Ah, but there’s never been such a tasty reason before. Now shut up.”
He walked away from her, joining his partner out of earshot. She squirmed, trying to ease her discomfort, but every movement only seemed to tighten the ropes. But far more painful than the ropes were the questions in her mind. Morgan wouldn’t trade Nick for her. He wouldn’t.
She couldn’t bear that. She tried not to think about it, tried not to even consider the possibility. He never gave up prisoners. He’d said as much several times. Lori strained to hear the conversation between the two men, but they kept their voices too low. This was her fault. All her fault. If she hadn’t sent that telegram …
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