Authors: Susan Krinard
the man who had murdered his friend.
"Morgan is not dead," she said, putting her conviction into every word. "Think, Uly. He
could have killed Niall if he chose. But other things are important to him now. He must
have known that his best chance of keeping himself and Niall alive would be to use
Niall's ignorance and feign death.”
"You assume a great deal, Firefly.”
"I don't assume. I believe. Morgan has a reason to want to live. If he has any strength at
all, he is on his way to Denver at this very moment.”
Ulysses and Harry exchanged glances. Harry fished in his pocket for a handkerchief.
After a moment he composed himself and straightened, casting Tamar a stark glance
that failed to cover his relief.
"Caitlin is right," he said. "Morgan does have a reason to live. And if he is alive, he will
go to Athena.”
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"As Niall would have, once he realized there was a chance that Morgan survived." She
took Ulysses's place beside Niall, stroking bloodstained hair away from his pale
forehead. "I could have let him go on believing that Morgan was dead, but he had
already begun to torment himself over what he had done. He is not an evil man. I had to
give him a little hope of redemption. But I also had to stop him from going after Morgan
again.”
Ulysses's glance at the bed was evidence enough that he understood. Harry blushed.
Tamar took advantage of the moment and pulled free.
"If my wolf is alive, I must go to him at once," she said.
Caitlin jumped to her feet. "You are not going anywhere. You've brought only pain to
everything you touch.”
"And who are you to stop me?”
Tamar's hateful face blurred in Caitlin's vision. She knew then that she was prepared to
do anything, even kill, to protect Morgan and Athena. And Niall, who needed everything
she had to give. "If he dies—”
"I fear that Caitlin is correct, Tamar," Ulysses said, stepping between them. In his hand
was a tiny pearl-handled derringer. "We cannot let you leave.”
Tamar stared down at him with unconcealed contempt. "Will you shoot me, little man?”
"If I must. But I think that you also wish to live.”
She spat at him. Ulysses stood unwavering, his gaze fixed to Tamar's face. "Morgan
cannot love you, Tamar. His heart is bestowed upon another, and his kind mate for life.”
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Her eyes widened. "And do you think I would turn to you if I cannot have him?”
Caitlin watched with growing bafflement. For Ulysses to threaten violence was
unthinkable. But something in his face, the stoic pain of a man pushed beyond his
endurance, told a tale that shocked her more than the pistol in his hand.
"No," Ulysses said quietly. "I do not believe that. But you have done enough mischief,
and it must stop.”
"You cannot get to Denver alone," Harry added, making a last attempt to reason with
her. "Ulysses and I will leave immediately and make sure that Morgan is all right. It is
better this way, Tamar.”
She answered by turning quickly toward the door. Ulysses raised the derringer and
fired. The bullet pierced the doorjamb a few inches to the left of Tamar's shoulder.
Caitlin had never seen Tamar blanch, but she did so now, staggering back into Harry's
arms. Harry forced her hands behind her back, hardly less pale than she.
Ulysses lowered the pistol. His hand was shaking. Caitlin knew that he had not missed
due to lack of skill, or even nerves. In his face she read the conviction that he could
never hurt Tamar, no matter what the provocation.
"I know there is one thing you truly love, Tamar," he said. "Since I knew you were apt to
cause further difficulties, I took the liberty of commandeering your serpents and
securing them in a safe but hidden location where you are unlikely to find them. They
require warmth, and they will continue to receive it as long as you comport yourself
reasonably. I trust I have made myself understood.”
Tamar's mouth fell open. Ulysses had, indeed, found the one weak spot in the snake
charmer's arsenal.
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"I will have my vengeance," she hissed.
Ulysses shrugged and glanced at Harry. "Lock her in one of the rooms," he said. "She
will not try to escape as long as her snakes are in custody.”
Shaking his head sadly, Harry hustled Tamar out of Niall's room. Caitlin checked to
make sure that Niall was still breathing steadily and touched Ulysses's shoulder.
"You and Harry must go right away," she said. "Morgan and Athena will need all the
help they can get if he's made it back to Denver.”
"And you?”
She ached for the sadness in his eyes. "I must remain here with Niall until he wakes
up.”
"Yes." Ulysses frowned at Niall. "You may not have to wait too long. I believe he is
stirring. I would definitely prefer to be well gone before he regains full consciousness.”
Caitlin gazed at Niall's face and saw the faint twitch of his lips, the flutter of an eyelid.
Thank the ancient ones.
Harry appeared at the door. "It's done," he said. "I think you were right about the
snakes, Uly. But how shall we get to Denver? The wagons are far too slow.”
"There are several more practical conveyances in the carriage house. Mr. Munroe is in
no position to object if we borrow one, and the horses to draw it. We will enlist our fellow
troupers to create a distraction in the event that any of the ranch laborers attempt to
interfere.”
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Harry nodded. Caitlin left Niall's side long enough to hug the old man and plant a kiss on
the top of Ulysses's golden curls.
"Good luck," she said. "Do everything you can to help Morgan and Athena. They were
meant to be together.”
"We will find a way," Harry said. He nodded at Niall. "Firefly, are you sure?”
"Yes." She smiled wryly. "But the mad are always certain.”
Ulysses took her hand and placed the pistol in it. "Keep this, just in case.”
She wanted nothing more than to fling it across the room, but she placed it on the bed
instead. "You had better go”
With a final, worried look, Harry followed Ulysses from the room.
Caitlin took up her vigil at Niall's side, noting each sign of returning consciousness. They
came with increasing frequency, and at last he opened his eyes, blinked, and tried to
focus on her face.
"What?" he murmured. His hand flailed toward his head and the large lump that had
formed there. "Caitlin?”
"It's all right." She checked the bandage and stroked his cheek. "You must rest.”
"Something is—" He tried to sit up, gasped, and subsided back to the floor. Caitlin
tucked the blankets about him, prepared to sit on top of him if necessary.
Fortunately, his body seemed to realize what his will did not. He closed his eyes again
and fell into what Caitlin prayed was an ordinary, healing sleep. An hour passed, and
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then another. He woke and asked for water; she poured from the pitcher and held the
glass to his lips. Day became night; he slept fitfully, waking often with vague questions
and requests for water. By the time dawn came with its false promise of peace, she
knew he would not remain still much longer.
His features frozen in concentration, Niall rose onto his elbows. He felt the lump on his
head and met Caitlin's gaze.
"How?" he asked hoarsely. "Someone
hit me.”
"Yes." There was no point in lying. "Tamar struck you from behind.”
"Tamar." He tried to gather his feet under his body and reached out for Caitlin's support.
She helped him rise and cross to the bed, remembering at the last instant to cover the
pistol with a corner of the coverlet.
"She was very angry, but she can't hurt anyone now," Caitlin said, easing him down. "It
was a bad blow. You must be careful, Niall.”
"Holt
might still be alive. I must get to Denver.”
The blow had obviously not dulled his memory in the slightest. "I wish Tamar had
managed to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours," she said. "If you try to ride
now, you will suffer for it. I doubt you can even drive a wagon.”
He pushed her away. "I warned you before, Caitlin. Don't
try to stop me.”
She thought of the pistol at the end of the bed, and of how far she'd be willing to go to
protect him and the others she loved. Uly hadn't been able to shoot Tamar. Could she
so much as threaten Niall? Would he believe such a threat?
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Simple persuasion, even of the sexual variety, would not work on him now. And that left
but one option.
"If I don't try to stop you," she said, "then I am coming with you.”
"No." The word was instant, sharp, and lucid. "I don't want you involved in what I must
do.”
"But I am involved. And there is nothing you can do to change that." She gripped his
arm, compelling him to look at her. "You have suffered a blow to the head. What if you
fall unconscious again? What if you cannot drive or ride? You would be foolish to go
alone." She smiled grimly. "And even if you keep me from accompanying you, I will
follow.”
He stared at her, weighing her words. Would he dismiss her, as he would most anyone
who made a similar promise
or would he realize she meant exactly what she said?
"You damned, stubborn wench. You would get yourself killed." He gathered his weight
onto his feet and tried to stand. His body tilted dangerously. "I can't stop you
now. But
you will do as I say and not interfere. Do you hear me?" He grabbed her shoulders,
pressing a little too heavily. "Do you, Caitlin Hughes?”
"I hear you." But do not ask me to promise anything. Do not ask me to choose between
you and my dearest friends.
"Then—" He gritted his teeth. "Help me dress. We must go.”
How he hated asking for her help. Meekly she collected his clothing and assisted him
with the lightest touch possible, as if she were a servant and not a lover who had seen
his every vulnerability. When they were both bundled up and Niall had collected two
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saddlebags' worth of provisions, he led her out to the barn and met one of the ranch
hands walking hurriedly toward the house.
"Mr. Munroe," the man said, taken aback. He shot a glance at Caitlin. "I was just comin'
to find you. Them circus folk—they stole one of the buggies. Chuck says they must a'
left a few hours before sunset last night.”
Niall swore. "No one stopped them?”
"Some of their friends played a trick to get us away. Said they'd seen a wolf after the
cattle, so we all went out
" He ducked his head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Munroe.”
Niall swung on Caitlin. "Did you know about this?”
"Yes. Harry and Ulysses were worried about Morgan, as I was.”
"The old man and the midget? Even with the night's travel, they can't be that far ahead."
Niall turned back to the ranch hand. "Saddle two of the fastest horses, and do it quickly.”
The man hastened to obey. Soon he was leading out two horses, both fine mounts to
Caitlin's experienced eye. Before Niall or the hand could offer help, she leaped onto the
smaller horse's back and caught up the reins. Niall followed, gingerly, wincing at the
pain in his skull.
He would not want her solicitude now. All she could hope was that she had some small
influence upon him when the time came to face the battle that lay ahead.
Dawn crept into the cave on velvet feet, so soft that neither human eyes nor ears could
detect it.
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Athena heard. She kept her eyes squeezed shut and begged the light to retreat, to let
night come again. Endless night, untroubled by future or past. A night made only for
loving and being loved.
Morgan's chest rose and fell beneath her cheek, and his arm held its protective curve
about her waist, loose but undeniably possessive.
As merciless as the passing of time, the light teased its way beneath her lids. She
opened them slowly. Her first sight was of Morgan's broad chest, the fine, dark mantle
of hair, the slope of his hard belly. She checked herself before her gazed strayed lower.
There was no going back to last night's joyful interlude. She clung desperately to the
last threads of it, as she'd once done when she woke from a dream of running on