by Linda Broday
“No. The boy’s only hurt. You, on the other hand…you worried me, amiga.”
A smile teased the corners of Josie’s mouth. “You were worried about me? How much?”
He moved quickly to change the uncomfortable subject. “Are you hurt? You landed hard enough to knock you out.”
“My back aches, and my head.”
“I’m not surprised.” He helped her stand, her legs shaky. She hauled off and kicked dead Uncle Bert. He’d expected no less from the high-strung filly. It probably made her feel better. “Rest here and get your bearings. I’ll check on Noah.”
He squatted beside the kid. “How are you, son?”
“Is he dead?” Noah whispered.
“Yep. He can’t hurt you ever again.”
Noah whimpered and moved closer to Luke. “I hated him, you know. Is that wrong?”
“No, not when it’s deserved. When I saw him hit you, I, too, got this black hate in my heart. At the time, I didn’t know who he was. I just knew I wanted him dead.” He smoothed the boy’s hair. “When you start to think about him, close your eyes and picture your ma and pa. Don’t waste another thought on your uncle.”
Noah suddenly jerked his head. “Rowdy! Did he kill my dog?”
“I’m sure Rowdy’s all right. He’s probably hiding in the brush.” He wouldn’t place any bets, though, recalling how hard Bert kicked him. “You rest here and I’ll go find him.”
Before Luke could move, Josie plopped down next to Noah and put her arms around the boy.
Luke strode to the thicket where he’d seen the dog land and called to him. Everything was eerily quiet. Not even a breeze ruffled the wild sage and mesquite.
“Here, Rowdy! Come on, boy.”
Again nothing. Luke kept walking through the tangle of weeds and thorns, calling Rowdy’s name.
Finally, he pushed aside a wall of briars and there lay the little dog.
“Hey, boy.” Rowdy raised his head and whimpered. Luke squatted down and ran his fingers across the dog’s back and down each leg. Rowdy rewarded Luke’s gentle touch with a lick. Feeling nothing broken, Luke picked him up and walked back to Noah.
“Rowdy!” The kid smiled. “Thank you, Luke.”
“Any time.” He put Rowdy in his master’s waiting arms and the reunion did his heart good. But Noah’s ashen face and the fact that he hadn’t stood up yet drew worry. Something wasn’t right.
“Noah, are you in pain?” Luke knelt at eye level.
“Yes. And dizzy.”
“What’s going on, Luke?” Josie asked. “Of course the kid’s in pain. He got the whey knocked out of him.” She shot the dead man a look of utter contempt.
Luke touched Noah’s chest. Maybe broken ribs? “What hurts? I need to know.”
“My stomach.” The kid grimaced and let out a moan when Luke touched his midsection.
“Anywhere else?”
“My back, kinda. I don’t think I can walk,” Noah whispered.
“That’s fine. You don’t have to.” Luke stood and drew Josie aside. “I think he might have some damage inside. We need to get him to a doctor.”
“I agree.” Her gaze moved to Dutch Moody’s body. “Are we going to take time to bury these two?”
“Can’t spare it. Leave both of them for the buzzards. It’s all they deserve anyway.” Luke eyed the two extra horses. Now they had one for Noah and saddles.
After dragging Bert away from the watering hole and leaving him with his partner, Luke collected their weapons. Tally Shannon and the women could use them.
Worry filled Josie’s eyes. “Where can we find a doctor?”
“A place I swore to avoid when I have trouble dogging my trail,” he murmured low, “the Lone Star.”
He was going home.
Eleven
“Glad to see you, son.” Stoker Legend shifted his weight in his hand-tooled saddle.
In the twilight, Luke took in the heavy Colt hanging from the large man’s hip, hoping he never had to face that—or the man wearing it—in a fight.
Stoker’s gaze drifted to Josie and Noah before returning to him. “My gut told me you were coming, so I saddled up and rode down to the gate.”
“Hello, Stoker.” Luke stared right into those piercing green eyes, so like his own. Stoker’s size and bearing intimidated him more than a little, but he knew him to be a fair, honest man. Stoker hadn’t thrown him out on his ear when Luke had come to him two years ago, even though he’d given the rancher one hell of a shock. Maybe one day Luke could tell him what his heart longed to say. But not now. He couldn’t let Stoker get too close. For both their sakes.
A wry grin curved Stoker’s mouth, then faded. “It’s become a habit riding down here these days, especially after Sam brought back that stolen horse.”
Luke glanced up at the huge crossbar overhead that proclaimed the land the Lone Star Ranch, then back at Stoker. His chest tightened. He was home. His gaze swept to the proud Texas flag fluttering high above headquarters a short distance away and his throat narrowed. He loved that flag—and Stoker’s welcome. Even if he couldn’t tell the man how much it meant.
“The law is trailing us,” Luke said bluntly. “I told you I wouldn’t bring trouble to your door, but I need a doctor for the boy. If you’ll take him and Josie, I’ll ride off.”
“I won’t hear of it. That was your rule, not mine, son.” The usual thunder was strangely absent from Stoker’s voice. He glanced at Josie then Noah, riding close beside Luke.
Luke introduced them, adding, “Noah’s hurt bad.”
Though slumping in the saddle, the kid tried to offer a smile but couldn’t quite get the energy to make it form.
“You know I’ll do anything I can. This is your home, part of this land belongs to you. It always will.”
Land he couldn’t claim. But the words meant more than his father knew. Outlaws needed a safe place to rest.
“Doc needs to take a look at Josie too. She took quite a beating herself.” Luke ignored the scathing look she gave him.
“Sam already told me about this pretty little lady’s memory problem.” Stoker swung to her and introduced himself. “I hate to hear that you’re also banged up, ma’am. Doc will give us some answers and fix you up in no time.”
“Thank you, Mr. Legend,” she murmured sweetly before shooting Luke a look of death. “I’ll be fine. Just tend to the boy, please.”
“We can argue about that later,” Luke said. “Let’s get Noah to the doctor.” He set Major John into a trot.
The four of them rode side by side up to headquarters. Stoker grabbed a passing cowboy. “Go down to Doc Jenkins’s house and tell him he’s needed.”
Luke was glad for the evening shadows to cloak his arrival. Only a few at the ranch knew he was Stoker’s son, even now. The less who knew, the better for all.
The large clock in the entrance chimed seven times as Luke carried Noah inside the immense stone structure that served as both ranch offices and residence. He quickly moved past the lavish furnishings and up the wide staircase to one of the bedrooms. Josie, wearing the serape, followed with Rowdy in her arms. From the corner of his eye, he caught her gaping in amazement. He didn’t blame her for being overwhelmed. Few people lived as large as Stoker Legend. Luke’s brothers, Sam and Houston, had grown up amid such wealth. Luke often wondered how it would’ve been to live here and how differently he’d have turned out.
He’d lived in squalor, and watched his mother work herself to death. All while the Legends had everything.
For years, he’d let bitterness eat at him. Then he’d finally met the man who’d fathered him, and brothers who didn’t know he existed.
Memories swirled so thick in the air he could reach out and touch them.
Josie’s grip on his arm brought him back to the present. “Are you all right?”
; “I’m fine.” Or he would be when he rode out again. This visit would be short.
“You’re probably tired to the bone, son” Stoker declared. “You look like you’re about to keel over.”
“I’ll rest when I’m dead.” Even then, Luke doubted there would be rest for the likes of him. Satan would probably poke him with his pitchfork every time he closed his eyes and tell him to add wood to make the fire hotter.
While they waited on the doctor, Luke removed Noah’s clothes and noticed the kid’s discolored, very swollen stomach. The light from the lamps in the room fell on the mass of vivid purple and green bruises. Josie’s loud gasp came from behind him. He longed to put his arms around her, to tell her things would be all right.
But would they?
Stoker leaned closer. “What the hell happened to this boy?”
“Evil happened.” Luke drew a blanket over Noah, who had yet to utter a word. He shared what little he knew about Noah’s past and how they’d found him on the prairie. “I killed his uncle back there.”
“Killing’s too good for the varmint,” Stoker thundered. “This is unforgiveable. I wish I could bring the bastard back to life and administer some Legend justice for myself.” He narrowed his eyes at Luke. “Though that’s exactly what you did, son. You gave him a helping of Legend law. It seems you inherited my burning need to right wrongs—however I have to do it.”
Giving a quick nod, Luke glanced away. He didn’t know what to say to this man who’d fathered him. Maybe he never would.
“Noah’s a sweet kid who got a bad break,” Josie said softly, removing her serape.
Doc Jenkins bustled through the door, all business in his three-piece pin-striped suit. His gaze landed on the kid and stayed there. “I heard you brought in someone injured, Luke.”
The highfalutin doctor lifted the fancy cane from his arm where he’d hooked it and set his black bag on the bed. Seeing Noah startled him. “No one said it was a child. Or one who’s been beaten.”
Luke told him about the fight and Bert driving his fist into Noah’s stomach. “The boy has felt poorly since.”
Doc grunted and felt around Noah’s belly, then rolled him over to prod his back. Another grunt. Near as Luke could recall from being under the doctor’s care in the past, two grunts meant things were pretty bad. The physician might be a pretentious dresser, but he was the best doctor Luke had ever seen.
Jenkins asked Noah some questions, then turned. Luke put his arm around Josie. Stoker moved closer. “He’s got internal damage. Some bleeding. Bruised pancreas.”
Josie gripped Luke’s arm. “Can you fix it?”
“We’ll see what strict bed rest will do.” Jenkins closed his black bag. “A lot of times these things fix themselves.”
“And if they don’t?” Luke asked.
“Then I’ll have to cut the boy open, but don’t buy trouble. Bed rest might do the trick. I’ll check on him in a few hours.” He turned to Luke. “I hope you’re staying awhile this time. Folks here worry about you.”
“Not sure.” Luke scrubbed the back of his neck, trying to avoid Stoker’s look of disapproval. “Doc, I want you to take a look at Josie. She got hurt in the same skirmish as Noah, but before that she was struck on the head and knocked out. Can’t remember a blessed thing.”
Josie scowled at Luke before flashing Jenkins a smile. “I have this teensy little problem of not knowing my name, where I came from, or my family. I got hit on the back of the head two days ago, and that’s when Luke found me. He’s been going around the countryside collecting strays like he has nothing better to do. Noah was the one who recognized me and told me my name.”
“Come with me,” Doc Jenkins said. “Noah needs his rest. I want to examine you where we won’t be disturbed.”
“I’ll speak to Mrs. Ross, my housekeeper, about getting some rooms ready.” Stoker brushed Luke’s arm. “When I get back, we need to talk.”
Luke cleared his throat, wishing he had some whiskey to brace him for what he had to say. “I’d rather not stay in the headquarters, if it’s all the same. I’ll find a bed in the barn.”
The doctor attempted to usher Josie out the door but the tension rippling in the room evidently made her hang back. She stared between Luke and Stoker. “Is everything all right, Luke?”
“Go with Doc Jenkins. I’ll sit with Noah for a bit. Or would you like me to come with you?”
“No, I’ll speak to him alone, let him poke and prod and have his fun.” She shrugged. “Who knows? He might even find a brain up there.”
“Be nice, Josie,” Luke growled. “He’s never met anyone like you.”
No one had. They broke the mold when they made her and probably because the world was shocked enough by one. He hid a grin. At some point, he’d have to get her out of his head, but not today.
Still, exactly how bad did he really want to? The lady brought fresh air and promise to his life.
Suddenly, Josie froze and braced herself with a hand to the doorjamb. She seemed to be somewhere else.
Luke strode to her. “What is it, Josie?”
She stood there silent with unseeing eyes for a long minute. Finally, she turned to him. “I saw a man’s face. He shoved it into mine and curled his lip.” She shivered. “He’s filled with hate. I think he wants to kill me.”
Stoker joined them. “Describe him.”
Doc Jenkins wormed his way between them. “Later. Let me do my job first. Besides, this young lady is tired. Needs rest and food. A hot bath. You’re way down the list, gentlemen.”
Luke protested. “She has information that may be helpful. Someone is trying to kill her.”
“I said later. That’s it for now.” Jenkins took her arm and led her to the stairs.
Frustrated, Luke slapped his palm against the wall. Who had she seen? Someone he might know? Being on the run had allowed him to cross paths with a lot of men, most of them dangerous.
“Doc is right.” Stoker laid an arm across Luke’s shoulders. The weight of his father’s touch soothed Luke’s nerves. Any contact in the past had been very brief, but this was a real touch, his first, of affection from the man. Luke closed his eyes, letting the sensation seep into his thirsty soul.
He could get used to this. To what end, though? How much good would it do to bring his sorry mess to his father? Stoker Legend deserved far better than a son who’d lived outside the law. Luke had sown nothing but toxic weeds. What else could he expect to reap?
Nothing. If you danced to the music, you had to pay the fiddler at some point.
“I believe you were going to tell Mrs. Ross to ready a room for Josie.” Luke severed the contact, and immense loss flooded him immediately. He strode to the bed without a backward glance, listening to his father’s heavy footsteps moving down the hall.
Luke steadied the emotions running through him and glanced at Noah, now sound asleep. Poor kid. Luke reached for his hand and held it. Maybe Noah would feel his caring. Everyone needed to feel the warmth of genuine love. He prayed that God, if He took a notion to listen to the likes of him, would spare the boy.
He’d never been more alone than he was at this moment. Yet the silence of the house whispered the word home in his ear, offering a sliver of hope.
* * *
The dapper doctor—a well-dressed man who looked to be in his fifties—opened a downstairs door and Josie entered a brightly lit room. While she didn’t know her circumstances, she doubted she’d ever seen anything like the ranch headquarters. Expensive things surrounded her. A thief could make a fortune by lifting just a few items that no one would probably ever miss. And a thief is probably what she’d been, or the thought of stealing never would’ve entered her head.
The evil face she’d seen so vividly in her mind scared her. Who was he? How had she known him? She prayed he was the man she’d gutted, because she didn�
�t like him. Fear shot through her at mere recollection of the brief glimpse.
“Have a seat and get comfortable,” Jenkins said, setting down his cane and the black bag.
Trembling, Josie sank onto the cowhide sofa. “How much do you know about memory loss, Doc?”
“I’ve seen two cases in my time. One man’s didn’t last but a short while.”
“And the other?”
“Last I heard she never regained her identity.”
Doc’s quiet words struck dread in Josie’s heart. She couldn’t go the rest of her days this way. She couldn’t. What kind of life would she have, to be forever lost?
He sat down next to her and patted her hand. “I believe in keeping positive. As long as the sun rises each day, we have hope for change. Now, let’s get busy.”
Though she thought Jenkins was a bit uppity, he projected genuine warmth. Over the next hour, he examined first her sore back, then her head. Finally, he lifted a lamp and stared into her eyes, asking endless questions. How often did she have headaches? Dizziness? Ever see double? Have hearing trouble? Other than today, had she ever had other flashes of memory?
Finally, she asked, “How much longer is this going to take?”
“We’re through.” He peered at her strangely. “Unless you have anything to add. Perhaps you’ve held something back.”
“I’ve told you everything and I’m very tired.” She wearily brushed back her hair. “So, Doc, what’s the verdict?”
“Since you’ve had three memory flashes already, I’d say the prognosis is good for a full recovery.”
“That’s wonderful!” Josie couldn’t wait to tell Luke.
“However, I can’t say how long this process will take. Your memory could come back in an hour, a week, or a year.” He put everything back into his bag. “Something is going to trigger it. What that word, place, or some traumatic event will be, I can’t say. I believe when it happens, everything is going to flood back in a rush.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” She moved to the door, anxious to find Luke. She knew the tension between him and his father would send him running. Panic gripped her. If he’d already hightailed it without her… She closed her eyes and sought to still her racing heart. Without him, she couldn’t face tomorrow’s sunrise. She needed him like she needed food and water and air. The tall, black-haired outlaw settled this turmoil inside that threatened to engulf her.