Dark Fires (29 page)

55

West Texas

Jane had never quite had a ride like this before.

Dust filled the coach, and she’d long since given up holding a kerchief to her nose. She’d grown used to the thick taste of grit on her tongue. If the carriage had springs, they were broken. She was jarred by every rut and pothole, which meant that despite Nicholas’s supporting arm around her, she was tumbling around like a pair of straight die. Chad clung tenaciously to the seat opposite where he sat, his eyes wide and round as saucers as he stared at the rugged passing landscape. “Papa,” he asked again, for the dozenth time, “are you sure there are no Indians?”

Beside her, just for a moment, the earl relaxed, and a hint of a smile touched the corners of his mouth. “Well,” he said levelly, “maybe just one or two renegades hiding up on that ridge.”

If possible, Chad’s eyes grew larger. “Wow!”

Nicole was the true trooper, enjoying the madcap ride, shrieking with delight every time they all went into the air, as if it were nothing more than being tossed by her father. Molly was a distinct shade of apple green, nearly oblivious to her charge’s howling pleasure.

No, she had never had a ride quite like this one. Jane was gripping the earl’s palm as she rode the bucking stage. And he was clenching her hand back just as tightly.

His face was taut, as taut as his grip on her. Jane knew he was filled with anxiety, in the clutches of his own inner turmoil. She leaned close to kiss his cheek. Briefly he smiled at her, squeezing her hand. And then his gaze turned out the window, his jaw so tight he surely must be grinding down his teeth one by one.

“I’m sorry about this, Jane,” he said. “Soon the railhead to the D and M will be completed, probably in the spring. But until then, the only way to my parents’ ranch is via stage from San Antonio.”

“It’s all right,” Jane said softly, covering his palm in hers with her other gloved hand. “At the least, this is a unique experience, especially for the children. And the country is magnificent.”

It was. A sage- and mesquite-studded vista rolled away from them in shades of purple and green. In the distance, jagged mountains etched a mauve line across the bluest sky Jane had ever seen. Never had Jane had the feeling before of being so insignificant, or of being in the midst of God’s land. The power and majesty of this huge, raw, wild country stretching before her was overwhelming and scintillating.

And her husband was a part of it.

“D ‘n’ M just up ahead,” yelled the driver from outside, above them.

Eagerly Jane and Molly and Chad all rushed to peer out the windows for a glimpse of the Bragg ranch. Only the earl sat unmoving. Jane was disappointed when what looked like a small but busy town greeted her. They roared down a wide dirt street, and she glimpsed brick storefronts and homes with gardens and white picket fences. Then they pulled to a stop in front of a small shop. Its sign, hanging lopsided from a chain, said JOE’S POSTE STAGE STOPS HERE.

Jane looked at the earl, who was rigid and still. “Why, this isn’t a ranch, it’s a town!”

Nick could not manage a smile. He looked at her numbly. He was sweating. “Rathe said the ranch had grown. None of this was here when I left in sixty-five.”

Jane was worried by his tone and his expression. She took his hand again. “Darling, it will be all right.”

He held her gaze. They hadn’t discussed the situation between him and his father again, not once in the past two weeks since their reconciliation. Nick had not brought up the topic, and Jane, although wanting to, was afraid it was too sensitive for her to mention. But now she saw the naked worry in his eyes, and her heart wept for him. She touched his cheek as the door opened and Chad bounced out. “Darling, everything will be fine, you will see.”

Molly exited with Nicole, who was having a temper tantrum because the ride had ended.

Nick gripped her hand hard. “Do you think so?” he asked hoarsely.

“I’m sure,” she managed, unnerved by his fear and anxiety.

And then from outside a voice boomed: “Are you Chad Bragg?”

“No, sir,” Chad piped. “I’m Chad Bragg, Lord Shelton.”

“Lord! No—I don’t believe it!”

“It’s the truth—you can ask my papa!”

Suddenly Chad shrieked, and Jane saw through the window a big leonine man in his early sixties lifting the boy high in the air. “I am Grandpa Bragg!” he shouted.

“Derek! You’ll frighten him to death! Put him down and introduce yourself properly!” a woman cried in affectionate exasperation.

Jane twisted to face her husband. He was still clinging to her hand, and he was as pale as she had ever seen him. “They’re here,” she said simply.

He took a deep breath. “I know.”

He couldn’t stay in the coach forever. Not that he wanted to. It was just that he was feeling so choked with emotions—ones he hadn’t quite expected—that he was paralyzed. He hadn’t seen his parents in more than ten years. Love and joy were washing over him in incredible proportions, but so was fear. Raw, bitter fear. For even as he was reunited with his family, there was the knowledge of the confrontation he would instigate—immediately. And then he would learn the truth he had avoided so desperately for so long.

He tried to tell himself it no longer mattered. He was an adult, not a child, and he had Jane and his children and Dragmore. So it didn’t matter that he was not Derek’s son. It didn’t matter that Derek’s real children were Rathe and Storm, that he loved them, and not him, Nick. Nick knew Derek cared, of course, but he couldn’t possibly love the child of a man who had raped his wife. The problem was that no matter how hard he told himself he did not care that Derek did not really love him, the truth was he still loved Derek as a father—for the man was his father in his heart.

Slowly he climbed out of the coach.

Derek barely looked a day older than when Nick had last seen him. He was as tall as Nick, and once he’d been as broad or even broader with thick, powerful muscles. Now he’d slimmed down a bit, but he was still an unusually powerful man. With his typical unrestrained, uninhibited exuberance (Derek always did what he felt like when he felt like it, Miranda often scolded), he was staring incredulously at the delicate gloved hand Jane had offered him.

“What’s this?” he roared, laughing, revealing white, even teeth. He turned to grin at his wife who held Chad’s hand, a petite, slender, elegant woman in her early fifties. “My God, Miranda, does she remind you of someone?”

Jane turned to look at Miranda, confused.

Miranda took her hand. “Forgive him, he’s overcome. But it was a compliment—I think he was comparing you to me when I first came to the frontier.”

Jane took the woman’s hand, then was embraced in a light hug. A moment later she was enveloped in a bear hug that could easily squash her—and she was lifted off her feet. When Derek put her down, she was blushing beet red.

Nick almost grinned. Derek liked his wife, and eventually Jane would get used to his enthusiasm. Then his father saw him, and Nick froze.

But Derek didn’t. “Son!”

When his father reached him to embrace him, hard, Nick closed his eyes and fought the childish urge to cry. His father released him. “God, look at you.” Impulsively Derek clasped his shoulder. “Look at you! You were a man when you left, but not like this.”

“Hello, Father.” The word just popped out. Nick felt himself blushing.

Derek threw his arm around him, and tears filled his eyes. “Shit!” He roared. “I’m like an old woman. God, son, you’ve done well for yourself— two beautiful children and a beautiful wife …”

“Derek!” Miranda reproved, but she was weeping and she threw herself at Nick. She clung to him, a tiny woman, and Nick clung back until it was unseemly and he forced them to separate.

“Hi, Mom.” He managed a grin. He hoped his own eyes weren’t tearing.

“‘Hi, Mom’! I haven’t seen you in over ten years and you say ‘hi, Mom?” Her voice was broken, and she wiped tears delicately away with a lace handkerchief. “Oh, Nick! It’s so good to have you home!”

Nick was very quiet, and had been all through the ride to the D and M and through the sumptuous dinner Miranda had waiting for them. Jane knew his parents had noticed—because the two had exchanged clear, concerned glances. Now they all sat at the oak dining-room table after finishing homemade pie and thick, strong coffee. Molly had taken Nicole for a nap, despite her protests (and her grandparents’). Chad was restlessly squirming. Derek had promised to take him riding and show him the ranch. “When are we going, Grandpa?” he asked excitedly.

“Can Grandpa finish his coffee?” Derek returned, grinning.

“Chad,” Nick and Jane reproved simultaneously. Nick picked up his mug, so Jane continued. “Let your grandfather finish his meal and enjoy his son’s company. Wouldn’t you want to be with your papa if you hadn’t seen him in more than ten years?”

Chad bit his lip, then nodded slowly. “Ten years is a long time, isn’t it?”

“Very,” Derek interjected.

“Okay, we can go riding tomorrow,” Chad announced. “But may I go out and play, Papa?”

“Of course,” Nick said, but as Chad leapt up, he eyed him sternly. Obedient to the unspoken command, Chad gave Jane a hug and kiss, then his father. “And what about your grandparents?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, but then he ran to Derek and Miranda before racing with a whoop out of the room.

“You have a fine son,” Derek said, smiling.

Miranda, sitting beside Nick, touched his arm. “Are you happy, Nick?”

He looked at Jane intently. “Yes.”

“I’m so glad,” Miranda said, a catch in her voice.

Nick gazed at his mother briefly, then turned to his father. “How come,” he demanded, “how come you lied to me?”

56

“How come,” Nick said, his voice hoarse, “neither one of you told me the truth?”

Jane was stunned he’d bring it up now, so abruptly, and she froze.

Derek looked quizzical but then suddenly sober. He moved his coffee aside. “Never told you what truth?”

“The truth!” Nick’s voice rose, his eyes flashed. He stared at his father. “How come you lied to me?”

Derek straightened. He stared back, shocked. “I’m not a liar—especially not to my own son. What are you accusing me of?”

Jane, sitting between father and son, put her hand on Nick to restrain him.

He ignored her. “But you did lie—and I’m not your son.”

Derek’s confusion was obvious. “What the hell are you ranting about? What’s—” Miranda’s gasp cut him off. She was whiter than white, clutching her breast, staring horrified at Nick.

Nick looked at her. “I found out the truth the day I rode off to fight in the war.”

“Oh, Nick,” Miranda cried, gripping his arm. “Why didn’t you come to us then?”

“What in hell?” Derek cried, standing.

“Chavez,” Nick said, lunging to his feet.

Derek became deadly pale, and he gripped the table for support. “Oh, God.”

“Chavez is my father,” Nick continued ruthlessly. “You lied to me—all these years!”

“How did you find out?” Miranda moaned.

“We were protecting you,” Derek said heavily.

“We didn’t tell you because it was pointless!” Miranda cried. “Pointless and cruel!”

“My life here has been lies!” Nick shouted.

“My love for you isn’t a lie,” Derek said, so softly, so hoarsely, he brought an absolute silence to the room.

Nick gripped the table too. He stared at Derek. Waiting, beseeching.

“That’s the truth,” Derek said. “Nick, the day you were born I took you in my arms and loved you as my own. That’s the truth.”

Nick stared at the table, his vision hazing. “Shit. It’s not possible. How could you love the son of a man who raped your wife? How?”

“Chavez paid for what he did,” Derek said savagely. “You are my son!”

“Rathe is your son!”

“No more than you.”

Nick just stared.

“I don’t love him more,” Derek said urgently with sudden insight. “In fact, it killed me from the very beginning that you were the one who had to go to that goddamn England and take over that damned inheritance—it killed me! Rathe was suited for it, not you. This is where you belong, where you’ve always belonged, here, at my side, on the D and M, the way it used to be …”

“Really?” Nick was hoarse.

“Son, do you want to see my will? I’ve left all of this to the three of you equally. A parent doesn’t love one child more than the other, yet, Nick— you were our first. In a way, that makes you special, always, to me and Miranda.”

Nick hung his head. He felt Jane’s hand on his back. He heard his mother speaking.

“Nick, you know your father isn’t a liar, and you know that he is a warm, loving man. Don’t doubt his love for you! The day you left for England he wept.” At Derek’s startled look, she smiled through her own tears. “Yes, darling, I knew. I decided to leave you in privacy.” She touched Nick. “We both grieved, and we comforted each other. We didn’t want you to go, Nick. Do you want to know the truth? The truth is, if my father hadn’t been an earl, Derek would have left you the D and M, instead of leaving it to the three of you equally. We always thought you were the most like your father, and you know what? Because Derek and I never questioned his being your father, or his love, we sort of forgot the truth, and it didn’t seem strange that you should be so like Derek—more so than your brother. You’re the one who is happy working the land, you’re the one who is a homebody, a family man.”

Derek moved around the table, but stopped short at Nick’s side, not touching him. “You should have come to me immediately—not ten, no, fifteen years later! God, Nick, when I think of what you’ve been through …” He choked.

Nick looked up. “I was afraid.”

“How could you have doubted me?” Derek asked, his eyes glistening.

“I don’t know,” Nick managed.

“Do you—do you still doubt me?” Derek asked. “No.”

His eyes brimming, Derek smiled and pulled his son into his embrace for a big bear hug. Just for a moment, Nick clung, and then the two separated, both embarrassed.

“I should wallop the hell out of you,” Derek tossed out.

And, nose red, Nick laughed.

It was the happiest sound Jane had ever heard.

Arm in arm, hips brushing, they walked along the ridge at sunset overlooking the D and M. Below them, on the right, were the many timbered buildings of the ranch—the main house, the barns, the smokehouses, the bunkhouses, the tool sheds and tackrooms. On the left, in the distance, were the many rooftops of the little sprawling town. Above them, a golden eagle soared, and they both paused to watch.

“You know what?” Nick said, his tone lighter than Jane had ever heard it, his body relaxed against hers, “I feel like that bird.”

Jane cuddled closer into his side. “Like a bird?”

He smiled down at her, his eyes warm and unshadowed. “I feel like that eagle. I feel so light, so free, that I could fly, soar, along these mountain-tops.”

“I’m so glad, Nicholas,” Jane said.

His hand stroked her shoulder. She said, “They are very special people.”

“Yes, they are.”

“Quite the couple.”

“Absolutely.” Nick suddenly chuckled. “Derek thinks you’re like Miranda. It tickles him to death!”

“He can’t get past our accents, is all,” Jane teased.

“He knows a lady and a beauty when he sees one,” Nick said, lifting her hand to kiss it. “Mmm, you taste good.”

She kissed his shoulder, eyeing him. “You taste like horse.”

He laughed, a roar she had never heard before, one suspiciously like his father’s. “Really? You just don’t know what to do seeing me in blue cotton and denim pants and cowboy boots!”

“I think the outfit is—er—interesting,” she said. Then she looked at him askance. “I think the pants fit you too well, Nicholas.”

“Too well?” He grinned. “And why is that?”

“They’re rather … provocative.”

He laughed, another roar, and lifted her up and swung her around. She shrieked and clung, and when he put her down, they were both breathless and giggling like children. They started walking again.

“It’s amazing,” Nick said, “how this ranch has grown. Do you know when I was last here there was no town, just two little cabins that two of the hands built for their brides and a general store.”

“Really? Why, I even saw a bank this afternoon.”

“You’re right, Derek does have a bank.”

“It’s your father’s!”

Nick nodded, smiling. “Rathe talked him into it. Everything you see sprang up to support the ranch—Derek has two hundred employees working for him. Many have families and live in the town. Families need a postal office and shops, restaurants , a bank. The new railhead will bring even more business. Derek told me they’re electing a mayor this spring.”

“So this is genesis,” Jane said. “It’s incredible, Nick, when you know the entire story—how Derek brought Miranda here when it was nothing but a wilderness—he made this all for her and you and Rathe and Storm.”

“With his own two hands. My father is quite a man,” Nick said, with obvious pride.

“And your mother quite a woman—to come from a convent in France and manage to thrive here!”

Nick stared down at the ranch. “This was quite the homecoming, Jane.”

“I’m so happy we came. I’m so happy you and your father had this out.”

“So am I. I feel like a whole person again. But you know what’s funny?”

“What?”

“Even though this is home, and it always will be, it’s not the way it used to be.”

“What do you mean, Nicholas?”

“I mean”—and he smiled at her—“I am very aware of the fact that Dragmore is patiently awaiting our return.”

Jane’s heart swelled with joy. “You miss our home, Nicholas?”

“Yes, I do. I really do. Dragmore is in my blood, Jane. I don’t know how it got there.”

She gripped his hand. “It’s half your heritage too, Nicholas.”

They were silent for a long while, both lost in their own thoughts, but both thinking of Drag-more—of home.

“If you want,” Nick said, “we can return sooner. We don’t have to stay the six weeks we promised.”

“Do you want to go back earlier?”

“No. There’s so much catching up to do …”

“Good,” Jane said, leaning close. “Because we don’t know when we will come again, especially now.” Her hand touched her abdomen and rested there.

The earl pulled her against his side, his expression soft and adoring. “Just think,” he whispered, “next April I’ll be bouncing our baby on my knee.”

“I’m glad you’re so happy.” “Deliriously so. How does six sound?” Jane froze. “Six?” “Six.”

“Six, er, what, Nicholas?”

He kept a straight face. “Six children.”

Her eyes widened, he whooped and hugged her. “I can compromise,” he whispered in her ear.

“Good,” Jane said, relieved. “We’ll settle on ten, then.”

He roared. His arms still around her, his laughter subsided, and they gazed out at the panorama spread before them, each cherishing their own special thoughts. The golden eagle took wing again and soared above them.

“Can you think of a name?” Nick suddenly said.

“What?”

“The town has no name. Derek asked me to think of one—every one he likes, Miranda hates, and every one she likes, he hates.” Nick suddenly chuckled. “Derek wants to call it Mirandaville!”

“Oh, no!” Jane agreed, laughing. “We had best come up with something!”

Nick took her hand, pulling her close against his side. Jane looked down at the town sprawling with its frontier fervor amid mesquite and sage, and she thought of how Nick’s father had come to this land when it was raw and virgin, how he and his wife had tamed it, turned it into this lush, thriving Eden. “Truly,” she murmured, “it was genesis.”

Acutely attuned to her, Nick frowned. “You want to name it Genesis?”

Jane laughed, pressing closer and smiling up at him. “No, Nicholas, darling. It’s very simple. This”—and she gestured grandly at the mountains behind them, the plains ahead, at the spectacular orange and purple sunset splaying across the Texas sky—“is Paradise.”

“Paradise,” Nick said, and he smiled. “Do I detect a bit of wit, Angel dear?”

“Wit?” Jane laughed. “Never—my lord.”

And so it came to be. Paradise, Texas, was born from a little bit of wit and a whole lot of love.