Renegade (18 page)

Matt silenced Samantha with a glance before he said, “It’s a long story.”

“Yeah, I guess it is a long story because I was there when Tucker first found out he had a brother. He didn’t know about you before his mother told him when she was dying, that was sure, and he didn’t like it when he found out.”

“I wasn’t too crazy about the idea, either,” Matt commented.

Mason laughed. “I guess you two were more alike than you both realized.”

Matt and Tucker exchanged glances.

“Things have changed, though. It’s too bad that one of you has to die.”

“What do you expect to accomplish with that?” Tucker questioned tightly.

“Yeah…” Obviously confused, Reggie repeated, “What’s that supposed to do?”

“Shut up, Reggie!”

“I told you, I’m tired of hearing you tell me to shut up!”

“You may be tired of hearing it, but you’ll do what I say.”

“No, I won’t.” Reggie seemed to swell. “Not anymore.”

“You’ll do what
I
say, though.”

Gasps sounded in the room at the unexpected, deep-voiced interjection of the white-haired fellow who appeared in the doorway with gun drawn.

“Uncle Sean!”

Mason and Reggie turned to find a gun pointed them.

Reacting as if he hadn’t heard Samantha, Sean ordered again, “Drop those guns in the name of the Pinkerton Agency!”

In a sudden flash of movement, guns barked and gunsmoke filled the room. A body thudded to the floor as others within scrambled for safety. Figures moving too quickly to identify in the grainy, gun smoke mist slipped out the doorway as the men within struggled to regain their weapons.

Matt recovered his gun first and stood up tentatively in an attempt to assess the situation. He had protected Samantha from injury by covering her with his body. He knew she was safe. He looked fearfully at the male figure on the floor just as Tucker moved out from behind the settee with his arm around Jenny. Randolph stood up breathlessly as
Matt took a few steps toward the motionless figure lying a few feet away to check his condition. He reported solemnly, “Reggie’s dead.”

“But where’s Uncle Sean?”

Samantha’s question turned everyone toward the doorway. Blood spatter and a gory trail led from the doorway where he had been standing to the place where the horses had been tied up. The other mounts had been scattered and McGill and Mason were gone.

“It looks like McGill was shot and Mason took him hostage on the way out.” Matt hesitated. “I guess he figures that being a Pinkerton, McGill will be familiar with the territory and traveling with him will give him the edge he needs. I only hope he’s right.”

“But Uncle Sean is wounded!” Paling, Samantha continued. “Uncle Sean only came here because I sent for him. He’s been like a father to me since my pa died. We have to help him.”

Matt felt Samantha’s genuine distress. All doubt had dissipated in that split second of time when he threw his body protectively across hers. He had known then that whatever she was, whatever she hoped to be, he loved her.

Folding her consolingly into his arms, he whispered, “Don’t worry, Samantha. We’ll find him.”

“He’s wounded because of me, Matt.”

Tucker responded, “I worked with Mason. I know how he thinks. Mason was smarter than Reggie,
but he isn’t too bright, either. The difference is that he knows his limitations. He’s going to travel as fast as he can back to Oklahoma where everything is familiar to him. That’s probably another reason why he took McGill, so we’d be cautious and think twice before shooting if we catch up with him. All Mason wants now that Reggie’s dead is to get away.”

“But we don’t know what he’ll do with Uncle Sean once he gets to Oklahoma, or even how badly Uncle Sean is injured! What if Uncle Sean can’t travel fast enough to suit Mason?”

“It’ll be to McGill’s advantage to make the effort,” Matt replied soberly.

Samantha whitened further and Tucker said, “Don’t worry, we’ll find him, Samantha.”

Tucker’s reassurance fell flat until Jenny added, “I know this area, Samantha. I’ll track with Tucker. I’ve had some experience with injuries, too, so that’ll help until we can get McGill to a doctor.”

Samantha looked at Jenny and then at Matt’s twin. She said, “I’m so sorry about everything.”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry.” Tucker tightened his arm around Jenny as he said softly, “Things have changed for me, but like I said, I know how Mason thinks. The best thing we can do is to catch up with him because he won’t be too patient if McGill holds him back.”

“I’m familiar with the main trail to Oklahoma,” Jenny offered.

Tucker shook his head. “Mason will be too exposed there. He’ll want another route.”

Samantha interjected, “Uncle Sean worked this territory before. He knows it quite well, even if I don’t. Is there a secondary route to Oklahoma?”

“I know an alternate route, but what makes you so sure McGill will use it?” Matt questioned.

“He won’t have any choice.”

The silence that followed was broken by Randolph’s voice when he added shakily, “You’d better get going, then. I won’t go with you because I’ll just hold you back. I’ll take care of this fella instead.” Indicating the still body on the floor, he said, “There’s nothing anybody can do for him but bury him, anyway.”

Matt started toward the door and Samantha declared, “I’m going with you. Uncle Sean will need to see me, and I need to explain the situation to him if he’s in any condition to listen.”

“You stay here. You can explain when we get back,” Matt said.

“I’m going with you,” Samantha repeated adamantly.

About to argue, Matt realized he was wasting time.

Waiting impatiently until the horses were recovered, Samantha was about to mount, when she turned abruptly toward Matt and urged, “Tell me everything is going to be all right, Matt…please.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Matt and Tucker exchanged glances as they mounted. Unspoken was their promise to work together.

Matt traveled slowly through the forested glade with Samantha riding behind him. The plan was simple. Tucker and Jenny on one side of the secondary trail to Oklahoma, and Samantha and him on the other, would converge from different directions, hoping to confuse Mason. But with two pairs traveling together, and with only one person in each who truly knew where he was going, Matt was dubious of their success. He also knew their plain would work only if McGill could think clearly enough to steer Mason onto the secondary trail; and if Samantha were correct in believing that when she explained it all to McGill, he would believe her.

Too many ifs.

Matt looked back at Samantha. Halting his mount abruptly, aware that Tucker and Jenny were traveling unseen in the woods on the opposite side of the heavily foliated trail, he waited until she drew up alongside him.

“Is something wrong, Matt?”

“No, nothing’s wrong.” Reaching out unexpectedly, Matt lifted Samantha from the saddle and into his arms. He kissed her thoroughly, indulging the taste of her for long moments and knowing a longing deep inside before he drew back to whisper, “I figure I need to say it again, just in case.” He paused,
holding her gaze. “I love you, Samantha. Everything I said to you earlier was in the hope of sparing you danger—which obviously wasn’t meant to be.”

Samantha was about to reply when he hushed her. “You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know that whatever happens, my love will never change.”

“Matt—”

“Shhh…”

Matt slid Samantha back into her saddle, his expression sober as he said, “We have work to do now.”

More shaken than she revealed, Samantha sat her mount silently as they moved again through the foliage. She knew if Uncle Sean was capable of clear thought, he would take Mason to the trail they were shadowing. She also knew Mason and he would be traveling at a disadvantage because of Uncle Sean’s injury, and that Matt and she would catch up with them at any time.

If
they had taken that route.

Samantha swallowed convulsively. She then raised her chin as her natural self-confidence snapped into play. She knew he had taken that route and Uncle Sean would die before he let her down.

Die.

Samantha briefly closed her eyes. She snapped them open a moment later at a sound on the trail ahead. She looked at Matt. He had heard it, too, and held a finger to his lips, silencing her. She listened
intently, moving forward cautiously until a harsh conversation became audible.

“Move faster!”

“I’m moving as fast as I can.” Uncle Sean’s voice was weak.

“I’d better reach something familiar soon, or you’re going to be in more trouble than you know.” His voice threatening, Mason continued. “And if I find out you lied to me and this ain’t the best way for me to get back to Oklahoma without being seen, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not lying.”

“Then move faster. I want to know where I’m going before it gets dark.”

Samantha looked at Matt to see him shake his head. Uncle Sean hadn’t commented, but she knew from Matt’s expression that Mason’s request was impossible to meet.

She started to shake.

Matt frowned at her reaction, and then whistled. The sound, so similar to the warble of a bird, was returned from a portion of the trail nearby and Matt smiled. He was uncertain how he had known Tucker would return that call if he was close enough to hear it. But he knew his brother would find a way to respond.

Matt withdrew his gun from his holster and burst out onto the trail. “Put up your hands, Mason!”

Stunned by his appearance, Mason turned his gun on McGill and said, “I don’t know if you’re
Tucker or his brother, but I’m telling you this. Take one more step, and I’ll shoot this fella just for the fun of it.”

“No, you won’t!” Converging onto the trail from the opposite direction, Tucker said tightly, “You may not know who’s who here, but you do know that neither one of us would let that happen.”

“How are you going to stop me?” Mason laughed wildly. “If you shoot me, I’ll take this fella with me.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Try stopping me.”

Sean swayed weakly in the saddle.

Shots rang out on the shadowed trail at the sudden distraction.

Gun smoke caused momentary confusion as two bodies hit the ground.

Unsteady in the saddle, Samantha rode forward. Her derringer was still smoking when she dismounted and dropped it before staggering to where Sean lay on the ground. She looked up when Matt appeared beside her and heard him say, “His wound is bleeding badly. He’s unconscious now, but I think he’ll be all right.”

Samantha glanced toward Mason’s motionless figure a few yards away and saw Tucker and Jenny crouched beside him on the ground. Tucker shook his head. She then looked back at Matt to say simply, “I had to shoot Mason before he shot you.”

The world began whirling strangely around her as
Samantha followed the direction of Matt’s shocked gaze and saw a bloodstain rapidly widening on her bodice. She almost laughed. It was funny…she hadn’t realized she was shot.

She felt Matt grasp her shoulders as she slumped toward the ground. She wanted to say the words she had spoken only in her mind—the words he had stopped her from returning when he said he loved her—but darkness closed in.

Samantha’s fading thought was that she had waited too long.

Samantha awakened slowly to a room filled with sunlight. She was alone. An ache in her chest still throbbed, but she knew the wound was healing well. She recalled awakening a month earlier only to hear, “Don’t try to move. You were shot. You lost a lot of blood, but you’re going to be all right if you don’t start bleeding again.”

She had been disoriented when an old man moved into her line of vision and said, “That’s right. Relax.”

Samantha had looked at the gray-haired fellow with the small glasses. He was pudgy, balding, and obviously middle-aged. She hadn’t known who he was, but he had reassured her with eyes that smiled when he said, “My name is Dr. Jackson. There isn’t a doctor in Winston anymore, so Matt brought you to my home in Foulard.”

“Matt?”

“He’s fine. He’s outside.”

“Uncle Sean?”

“He’s weak from loss of blood, but he’s fine, too. He insisted on waiting outside with Matt because you’ve been in and out of consciousness.” He paused. “They’ll both be happy to hear that you’re lucid, but I guess I’ll send Matt in first.”

Samantha remembered that her eyes had drifted closed, and when she had opened them again, a familiar light-eyed gaze had held hers. Yet her smile had faded when she muttered uncertainly, “It is you, Matt, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s me.” At the sound of his voice, all uncertainty had disappeared and Matt continued. “I’m sorry, Samantha. I didn’t realize you’d been hit at first. I was afraid I’d lose you then, and I panicked.”

“The doctor says I’m going to be all right.”

Matt had grasped the hand she raised toward him and pressed it to his lips, and Samantha went still. She remembered. He had said he loved her.

Her throat suddenly filled, and she had asked, “Did I say it, Matt? Did you hear me?”

“Did you say what?”

“That I love you?”

“You said it, but you were hallucinating.”

“I’m not hallucinating now.”

Samantha’s memory of that day was interrupted suddenly when the bed sagged with Matt’s weight as he lay down beside her. She hadn’t realized he had entered the room, and she smiled into his singularly handsome face—singularly, because she knew no amount of frightened confusion could ever again
make her unable to distinguish one brother from the other.

She touched Matt’s cheek. She traced loving lips that had whispered devotion during her recovery—words pledged from the heart.

She touched his hands—strong hands that had supported her gently as she recuperated from her wound.

Matt held her close and she remembered that he had been her first concern after the confusion on the shadowed trail. She had pushed her mount into a lunge forward without regard for her own safety when she had seen Mason point his gun at Matt. She had fired her derringer directly at Mason. She didn’t clearly remember too much after that, except that a pain struck her sharply in the chest, almost knocking her from the saddle, but that her need to make certain Matt and Uncle Sean were all right had been paramount.

She had thought it was her bullet that had killed Mason when she dismounted, but with several bullets lodged in his body when they examined him later, it could not be ascertained which one had been fatal.

Matt kissed her lightly and Samantha remembered the days that followed that confusion on the trail. Matt had insisted on certain formalities, and she had happily agreed to them. The result was that it wasn’t merely Matt Strait whose arms now held her so close. It was her
husband
, Matt Strait.

The day of their wedding was a precious memory despite her weakness:

The sun had shone brightly and the air was warm as she walked unsteadily toward the altar of the small, nondenominational church in Winston where the part-time minister beamed as he awaited her. It had been difficult to walk, but she had insisted that she could. The effort had been almost as difficult as selecting the gown she wore—simple, white, trailing to the floor. But she had had Jenny to help her all the way because they had had a double wedding ceremony—suitable for twins who would remain close forever.

She remembered that Jenny and Randolph had walked down the aisle behind them while Uncle Sean walked in front with her, supporting her protectively, despite his wound, until the moment he gave her away. She recalled winking at a tearful Toby, who watched from the pews, and noted that Helen and Jim sat side by side holding hands. She recalled even more clearly that Matt awaited her at the altar beside his twin, but that Matt only had eyes for her.

Samantha’s name was now Samantha Strait, and Jenny’s was Jenny Conroy, the name Tucker had chosen to keep. She supposed that was fitting. As for the disposition of Tucker’s criminal acts—

Samantha had learned later that Toby’s disappearance on that fateful day was for a good cause. He had traveled to visit a fellow named Horace
Wells, whom both Jeremy Strait and he had known years earlier before Wells became a district judge. With Toby’s petition for clemency, in addition to a written statement from celebrated Pinkerton Agent Sean McGill declaring Tucker’s cooperation in apprehending the unfortunately now deceased Mason Light and Reggie Marks before turning himself in, Tucker had been given a short sentence.

The ending of that affair was suitable to all.

As for herself, Samantha realized it was too early to decide which direction her life would take from there. She was still recuperating and still uncertain if, as Samantha Strait, she would continue to pursue the career as a Pinkerton that had brought her to Winston. She was especially indecisive now that her focus had shifted so lovingly in another direction.

Samantha separated her lips under Matt’s kiss. She sighed when Matt drew back and curved his arm around her.

Whatever she decided, she knew her father would be proud of her decision because her quest had brought her to the man she loved. And most importantly, because she was certain he would approve of Matt.

It occurred to her that her father would even approve of Tucker because he was paying the price for his crimes with a belated realization of the true meaning of love, and with the knowledge that Jenny was waiting.

Matt’s whisper interrupted her thoughts. She turned toward him and indulged his loving gaze as his light eyes looked down into hers. She knew she would never tire of hearing him say the words “I love you.”

Matt drew Samantha closer as her eyes drifted closed. He remembered his fear when he came so close to losing her. He had known at that moment he had been a fool to believe, however briefly, that he could let her go.

Matt kissed her lips lightly again, knowing he would never tire of the taste of her. He knew now that he had never been more right—and never more wrong—than when he first met Samantha. He had felt the instant attraction between them and he had known she was trouble. He was right. She
was
trouble. But he had not realized at the time that she would be worth every moment.

He also knew now that despite all the deceits practiced on both their parts, and all the conflicts between them, an ecstasy had emerged that would last a lifetime.

As for Tucker, his brother had made his peace with the past. Matt had already arranged that Tucker would have the inheritance their father would have left him if he had realized his other son was still alive. It would be waiting for him when he was released from prison. He had no doubt that a new life would begin for Tucker then.

Although Tucker would be the last to admit it, he and his brother had actually come to like each other. He suspected the change in Tucker was due mostly to Jenny, because Tucker realized how lucky he was to have her.

Matt brushed fragrant locks of hair from Samantha’s forehead. She would soon be well and strong, and he knew that although Samantha was contrary and headstrong, no man was luckier than he to have a woman who had risked her life for him.

That thought stirred a familiar uneasiness inside Matt as Samantha’s breathing became slow and even. He would make sure that she would never again be faced with a similar risk. Samantha didn’t know it yet, but she would never endanger her life again as a Pinkerton agent—or sit on the lap of a possible bank robber with a sultry look in her eyes, just to solve a case. Her flirting days were now just for him.

As for that journey of loving years he envisioned Samantha and him taking, any journey of years began with a day.

Samantha whispered his name in her sleep, and Matt knew that day had already begun.