Branded

by Vivian Vaughan

  “Just you and Hunter? Of course it’s okay.” She kissed him softly. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “You were too busy planning a romantic night for Hunter and Mari.”

  “I wish we—”

  He kissed her lips closed again and silently wished for the thing he could not let her voice.

  “Something occurred to me on the ride home, Trevor.”

  “What?” he asked, not wanting to know, unable to resist hearing it, fantasy though it surely was. Then he kissed her again, thinking to take her mind off talk. They didn’t need talk tonight. Talk would do nothing but damage.

  When their lips parted again, she cradled his jaw in her hands and smiled the smile of an angel.

  “Remember the times before the murder, all the teasing and tempting and flirting?”

  “Sure do.” How could he forget? Ever?

  “You did it, too, Trevor. It wasn’t just me.”

  “I know.” And he’d do it again, damn his soul.

  “I used to think it was rebellion. You know, me defying Papa?”

  “Me defying the odds?” He grinned in spite of things. It was the truth, the gospel truth.

  “I thought it was a game we were playing, that we could stop anytime we wanted to.”

  “We couldn’t?” He knew the minute the words were out of his mouth he should have left that alone. But dang if she wasn’t hell-bent on destruction anyway.

  She shook her pretty head. Strands of flaxen hair teased his face. It glowed like silver. Starlight glanced from her eyes, turning them deep, dark blue. He thought of the cross in his pocket. He should give it to her now.

  No. Someday it would be all he had. That and a bunch of memories would have to be enough to keep him warm.

  Hell, he’d better run for the equator.

  “We have no choice in it, Trevor. We never have had. I realized that on the train ride home, while I worried that you might get captured or…or killed.”

  “I’m already dead, remember?”

  She kissed him tenderly. “You don’t feel like it.” Her sultry voice enthralled him.

  But she was right, he didn’t feel dead. He felt more alive than he had ever felt in his life. Alive and wanting her. He held her close, buried his lips in hers, and clung to her like she was a lifeline, when in fact, he was about to be cut adrift.

  “We were meant to be, Trevor. Someone up there.” She paused, cast her eyes heavenward, “…wants us together. We never had a chance of not getting back together.”

  “Sounds nice, Jace.”

  “Yes, it does, doesn’t it? Tomorrow after you see Hunter—”

  “Jace? Did I ever mention you talk too much?”

  She grinned. “I have just one more thing to say.”

  A sudden terror gripped him.

  “I love you, Trevor. With all my heart and soul, with everything I am and have been and will be, with all of me—I love you. So much it hurts.”

  He crushed her face to his chest. His breath came hard, like he had run up Mount Franklin or some fool thing. Damn. Don’t let her ask, he prayed. Just by God don’t let her ask. He couldn’t say it. That would be the biggest injustice of all. He couldn’t say the words she wanted to hear, the words he ached to say, then leave.

  But she didn’t ask. Although he knew as surely as he had ever known anything in his life that she wanted to hear him speak the words, she didn’t ask.

  Knowing Jace, she would bide her time.

  Knowing Jace, he would never stop loving her. For she was right. They were meant to be together, made for each other. He felt it, too. Only thing, no one told that damned bastard of a father of hers.

  Fourteen

  “Papa, you have to come to Mass with us.”

  “I don’t have to do anything, Sis. Have you ever known of me setting foot inside one of those places?”

  “No, I’ve never known of you going to church, but this is for Hunter and Mari. Please. It’s a thanksgiving for our blessings. We have a lot to be thankful for.”

  “I’ll be thankful in my own way,” he retorted inimically. “You run along with the others. I’ll go feed my gators.”

  Disappointment threatened Jacy’s profound joy, but the latter was too solid for even Drummond’s cantankerousness to warp. She wanted to tell him it was his loss, but resisted.

  Already his mind seemed better, validating her long-held belief that all Drummond needed was Hunter alive and cleared of that dastardly murder charge.

  She kissed him on the forehead, picked up her black mantilla, and shepherded Sophie, Todd, and little Carter toward the door. Mama Dee and Tía Bella were staying home, too.

  “We’re putting together a celebration dinner,” Mama Dee had commented when asked to attend Mass with the family. “Reckon that could be considered thanking the Lord.”

  On the threshold, Jacy turned to make one last attempt to induce Drummond to come along.

  “We really want you with us, Papa.”

  “Humph.” Slapping on his black Homburg, he reached for his cane. Jacy couldn’t help comparing Drummond to Tom Guest. Weak of body and mind, Drummond had obviously fared much worse than his friend during the past five years. But there was a haunted look about both men, and Jacy suddenly realized what it meant.

  Tom and Papa had been friends much the same way as Trevor and Hunter. Regardless how secure Tom’s material life had been since the murder, he lost his son and his best friend. Last night, Jacy had seen glimpses of the old Drummond. Papa was coming back to life.

  And why, after everything else worked out, couldn’t he and Tom get back together? The ranch might stand in the way for a while, but Trevor and Hunter had proved that some friendships are too strong to ever die. They needed each other.

  And the family needed Drummond today. “We’re a family, Papa. We aren’t complete without you.”

  “You’ll do fine, Sis.” In an obvious attempt to get her out of his hair, he added, “I’ll be home in time for dinner. Never could resist Dee’s chicken and dumplings.”

  Returning to give him one last hug, she left with the others. She wished he had come, but since he hadn’t she refused to worry. Nothing could spoil her happiness today. Not even a cantankerous father.

  Halfway to the mission, they were joined by a beaming Hunter and a glowing Mari. Jacy watched them approach, hand in hand, both grinning from ear to ear. She marveled at the depths of the human heart. How much love could it take and not burst?

  Hunter greeted her first, with a hug that took her breath away. “Thanks, Jacy,” he whispered before setting her down. “I’m still shocked that my little sister knew exactly what Mari and I needed my first night home.”

  Jacy felt herself blush. Hunter kissed her forehead. Her forehead, bringing Trevor’s scar instantly to mind. But it wasn’t with fear or anger now. For if friendships could survive the ordeal Trevor and Hunter had been through, she knew her love could, too. Surely, no one had ever loved a man the way she loved Trevor.

  “You’re looking chipper this morning,” Hunter added with a grin. “See Trev?”

  For a moment all she could do was nod, for her heart leaped to her throat, hearing Hunter speak of Trevor as though everything were back to normal. And it was. Almost.

  “He’ll meet you after the service,” she said when she trusted her voice not to give her away. “I told him the same room, Mari, so maybe you should speak to the padre.”

  “I will.” Giving the children time with their father, Mari walked beside Jacy. Jacy wondered whether she would be so generous. Of course, with their whole life ahead of them, Mari could afford to be generous.

  Unable to contain her joy, Jacy skipped a couple of steps. Mari giggled, grabbed her around the waist, and skipped with her up the dusty caliche hill. They arrived at the mission to the accompaniment of ringing bells.

  Bells from heaven, Jacy decided. Mari introduced Hunter and Padre Cardillo pumped his hand vigorously. He seemed perfectly agreeable when Mari said
her brother was back and asked if he could wait in the little room.

  “Your brother?” Jacy whispered as they climbed the steep steps to the church. “Shame on you, Mari.”

  Mari laughed and joy swelled in Jacy’s heart. “It wasn’t really a lie,” Mari said with a wink. “Or it won’t be before too long.”

  Inside, the family filled an entire pew. All knelt in prayer with grateful hearts and anticipation for the future. Jacy did her best not to squirm through the service.

  “Mari,” she whispered as they rose to leave, “do you think a person who isn’t Catholic could be married here?” She had never given thought to where she would be married. She wasn’t accustomed to attending church. Drummond had taught her to see the whole outdoors as the work of the Creator. Loving and caring for the land, he claimed, was way enough to praise the Creator. But today she felt a deep yearning for something more personal, more traditional.

  “We’ll talk to the padre,” Mari agreed, watching the brown-robed man approach.

  “Not now,” Jacy added quickly. “I still have a few snags to work out before he proposes.”

  Mari laughed softly. “You will.”

  “Marielena,” the padre said quietly, with a nod of acknowledgment to Jacy, “your brother is waiting in the anteroom.”

  Jacy could no more leave the premises without seeing Trevor than she could fly to the moon. With a shrugged apology to Hunter and Mari, she ran ahead, threw open the door, and slipped inside.

  “’Morning,” she said around the lump in her throat. Just the sight of him made her knees go weak. Would he always affect her in this lightheaded, delicious way?

  He stood at the far wall, hands thrust into back pockets. At her voice his head popped up. He turned. His eyes captured her, held her in such a grip of sensuality that she began to melt inside.

  She felt like the statue of the Madonna inside the church, with a wooden glow painted gold around it. Which was certainly an absurd comparison, if not altogether sacrilegious.

  She was certainly far from holy or pure. But she was a woman now, thanks to the man who held her enthralled, the man she would love forever. As quickly as she entered, she blew him a kiss and backed out the door.

  Then she stuck her head back inside. “Come home with Hunter for dinner.”

  He raised a brow, but before he had time to argue, Hunter burst into the room. The two men froze, gaping at each other, taking measure. Then suddenly they were in each other’s arms.

  Filled with more love and happiness than she could ever have imagined, Jacy closed the door on their reunion. While she and Mari shepherded the children in a gay procession down the hill toward home, Trevor and Hunter greeted each other.

  Standing back, Trevor examined his friend from head to foot, as he was being examined.

  “Whatever the hell we’re into, Trev, together we’ll lick it. Mari told me some of it last night.”

  “Last night! Man, you weren’t supposed to waste your first night home on shit like this.”

  Hunter grinned. “It was a long night. Trust me, nothing was wasted.” He cocked his head, brushed back a lock of blond hair and asked, “Tell me something, Trev. Did Jacy really think of getting that room at the hotel, or did you put her up to it?”

  “You know Jace, Hunter.”

  “I knew her. From the sound of things, you probably know her a whole lot better.”

  Trevor held Hunter’s blue eyes. Strange, he had never realized how much they resembled Jacy’s. The same lapis blue, like the cross in his pocket. “Damn!” He spun away.

  Hunter chuckled. “Hell, man, that promise wasn’t meant to last forever. Just until you decided to stick around.”

  Stick around. Trevor’s heart pumped fast and furiously. He clenched his fists and wished he had run to Old Mexico weeks ago. Wished it was all behind him.

  But it wasn’t.

  “I’m not complaining,” Hunter said. “There’s no one on this earth I’d rather have for a—”

  “Leave it, Hunter. Just leave it alone. This is between Jace and me. No one else. Not even you.” Not even Jace, he thought.

  “Sure, Trev. I understand.”

  Understand? Like hell he did.

  “Mari told me about the family plans,” Hunter began. “They think we should head on into Texas, find some range land. You agree?”

  Trevor inhaled deeply, exhaled, and turned to look his friend squarely in the eye. “I won’t be going with you.”

  Hunter took measure of the man. “I don’t mean before we clear you. Somehow we’ll find—”

  “No,” Trevor broke in. “I don’t want anything done. I’m leaving.” He shrugged, trying unsuccessfully to shrug off the despair that went with the announcement. “I’m a drifter, after all. Haven’t we always known that?”

  “What about Jacy?”

  Averting his gaze, Trevor stared at the cold adobe wall. “She’ll be better off.”

  Hunter was by his side before he finished speaking. He jerked him around. “Like hell she will be. She’s in love with you, Trev. And you, my friend, are a goner, too. You can’t hide it from me. Mari told me so, but I saw for myself. You were drooling after her just now like an unweaned calf.”

  Trevor grinned. “Maybe so, but she’ll still be better off.”

  “Explain, damnit. We spent five years apart. The first thing you say after we’re reunited is that you’re leaving. Leaving me. Leaving Jacy. Hell, Trev, that’s no way to treat the people who love you.”

  “Isn’t it? Do you know who killed Ana Bowdrie?”

  “No. But I know it wasn’t you. We’ll—”

  Trevor shook his head. “We will not investigate.”

  “Why the hell not? What do you know that I don’t—”

  Trevor took a deep breath and blurted out his suspicion before he lost his nerve. He wasn’t good at this. All he was good at was running. Why the hell hadn’t he? “What if it turned out to be Drummond?”

  That stopped Hunter in midsentence. His eyes widened. “He wouldn’t have.”

  “Why not? You always said he’s mean as sin.”

  Hunter took several deep breaths. “What proof do you have?”

  “Nothing solid. But some of the things that turned up in Arizona, Hunter, point in that direction. In a big way. The lies he told. Why else would he have lied? Why else would he have lost his mind? I’m not taking the chance. You know how Jacy feels about him.”

  “She loves you.” Hunter’s simple statement almost undid Trevor. He brushed it off. Stiffened his resolve.

  “More than the man who raised her and gave her everything she ever had in life?”

  “Including a hard time.”

  “Maybe so, but…” His thoughts drifted back to that first day, standing in the doorway of the old stage station. “You should have seen her like I did the day I arrived. If I hadn’t known her so well, I would have taken her for somebody’s maid. She looks good now, callused hands, worn face, and all. But that’s mostly thanks to Mama Dee saving several trunkloads of clothes. It’s surface, Hunter. You should have seen her with Drummond, mothering him, loving him. Jacy and the rest of them, too, have suffered more hardship than I like to think about. She survived. Her world is back together. I’m not about to tear it down again.”

  “Hell, Trev, she loves you.”

  “Is that all you can say?” Trevor brushed off Hunter’s hand. He stared up at the far ceiling, seeking a calm he suspected he would never find again. “Listen to me, Hunter. Hear me. I love her, too. That’s why I can’t, I won’t, ruin her life.”

  “Trevor Fallon, you always were the hardheadedest—”

  The door burst open. Both men flinched, then looked at each other, each seeing his terror reflected in his friend’s eyes, each feeling the same gut-wrenching fear.

  Trevor recognized their visitor, but before he could introduce Hunter, Wes Hardin stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and held it as if against aggression from without. He gave the brie
fest of nods to Hunter, then turned to Trevor.

  “Hit the road, Fallon,” he said without preliminaries. “My horse is outside. Take it.”

  “What—?”

  “Selman’s coming for you.”

  “Son of a bitch.”

  “Selman thinks he’s dead,” Hunter objected.

  “Drummond Kimble just told him different.”

  Trevor’s heart pumped fear and dread. He grabbed the sombrero and serape he had worn to Arizona and back.

  He embraced Hunter.

  “Trev, we’ll—”

  “Take care of her.”

  At the door he turned and surveyed the two men. “Hunter, meet Wes Hardin.” He grinned. “Don’t believe everything you hear about him. He had more to do with getting you out of prison than anyone except Jace.”

  The two men exchanged looks, Hardin’s sharp, Hunter’s shaken. Trevor knew Hunter’s distress had nothing to do with finding himself in the company of a notorious killer.

  Recovering, Hunter promised, “We’ll work things out.”

  Trevor frowned. His eyes beseeched Hunter. “Honor me on this, friend. Drop it.” He turned to Hardin. “I’ll head for the border. Where should I leave your horse?”

  “You can’t go to Mexico,” Hardin warned. “Selman’ll have men crawling all over there. Head for Hueco Tanks.”

  “Hueco?”

  “Know the way?”

  “All thirty miles of it.” Trevor extended a quick hand to Hardin. He embraced Hunter again, trying to hide his reluctance to leave. Hell, he’d been about to hit the trail anyway. It was time. His dreams had all come true. Jacy told him she wanted him, she told him she loved him. She wrapped her legs around him and kissed the scar on his forehead. What more could he ask? He hadn’t dreamed it would last forever. He never believed it would.

  “Take care of her, Hunter,” he said again. “And that family of yours, too.”

  When Jacy heard men’s voices approach the house, she rushed to answer the door. She wanted to be beside Trevor when Drummond first saw him. She worried about it all the way home from Mass, but Mari assured her they would stand as a family against Drummond this time. Still Jacy was as nervous as an old hen facing the hatchet, another of Mama Dee’s sayings. When boots sounded on the porch, she wiped damp palms down her black skirt and threw open the door.