The Circle Eight: Nicholas (27 page)

Nick was glad to hear the rest of the children would not be forgotten. For now he had to focus on building his own family but he wouldn’t forget about the rest of them. “We will help as we can. You need only send word to the Circle Eight.”

“Thank you. You two brought my life back. And Mr. Tucker here reminded me why I opened the home to begin with. This hooligan needs a firm hand to keep him in line.” Mr. Fuller spoke around the smile he couldn’t quite conceal.

“I don’t need no keeper.” Tucker crossed his arm. “But I do appreciate a warm bed.”

Nick held out his hand to the young man. “Thank you for saving my life.”

The boy shook it firmly. “I knew you
were looking for Martha and helping Mr. Fuller. I aim to do the same.”

“Thank you for everything, Mr. Fuller.” Winnie took
Nick’s hand. “Please do correspond when you can and I will do the same.”

Martha hugged Tucker one last time and then returned to her mother’s side. Together they left the house of the man who had changed their lives. The mood was more solemn than when they arrived. Nick was considering how long the older man would live to fight the fight but perhaps Tucker would carry on what he started
.

The next two days were sheer hell. Nick had never been so bounced around in his life. He felt like a nut in a barrel that rolled down an endless mountain. Every muscle in his body ached right along with his head and his throat. Matt drove them toward the ranch as hard as he could.

The men took turns driving the wagon to give Winnie a rest. Martha, true to her word, sat in the bed of the wagon with Nick and told him the stories she knew. Most were fanciful ones about princesses and dragons, but she was a natural storyteller.

When they passed the huge tree that marked the property line of the Circle Eight, Nick was ready to weep. They were home. Finally, finally home.

The sound of a horse galloping for all its worth alerted them that someone had spotted them. Catherine came tearing up on her favorite stallion, her blonde hair streaming behind her. She yanked the horse to a stop beside the wagon, her gaze incredulous.

“What in the world?” The youngest Graham had a wild streak a mile wide and insisted on wearing britches and riding hell for leather everywhere she went.

“We brought Nick home.” Matt waited for Cat to ask more.

“With Miss Watson and a little girl, and a wagon full of home goods?” The young woman eyed his prone form. “Who kicked your ass?”

“Watch it, brat. There’s a lot more to this story,” Caleb warned. “Get to the house and tell Eva we’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Cat scowled just like a Graham but she kneed her horse into motion and soon she was a blur of girl and equine streaking across the rolling hills.

“Who was that?” Martha asked.

“That’s your Aunt Catherine and she’s a pain in the a—behind.” Matt pointed. “There is your new home.”

They rode onward, Martha’s eyes widening the closer they got to the house. People came from everywhere including the passel of young’uns
running around the yard. Dogs barked and birds flew shrieking from the trees. It was near deafening.

“Who are all these people?” Martha whispered in his ear.

“This is your family, honey. Your cousins, aunts and uncles.” He smiled as her mouth dropped open.

“It’s like being at Fuller’s again.”

He supposed she was right. Loud, raucous children and adults trying to keep the peace. Fuller’s was the only real home she’d known until now.

“Are we gonna live here?” She looked at Winnie.

“Yes, honey. This is our new home.” Winnie pulled the wagon to a stop and crawled in beside them. Just for a moment, it was the three of them, cocooned in the crates.

“There are a lot of people out there.” Martha’s voice shook ever so slightly.

“It’s family. They’re loud because they’re happy to see us.” Nick took the girl’s cold hand and rubbed it between his own. “Your cousins are all younger than you so you’ll be in charge in no time.”

“Oh.” Martha looked at Winnie. “Will you hold my hand until I feel safe, Mama?”

Winnie sucked in a small breath. Nick knew the girl calling her Mama had surprised and delighted her. Her eyes were suspiciously moist. “Forever if you need me to.”

“Okay. Then I’m ready.” Martha took her hand and then his. “As long as I have Mama and Papa.”

It was Nick’s turn to be speechless. Life had been so dark, full of shadows and despair. Now he had everything he never knew he wanted. Love had changed him and given him gifts he could barely absorb. He kissed Winnie and then Martha.

“Always.”

Beth Williamson, who also writes as Emma Lang, is an award-winning, bestselling author of both historical and contemporary romances. Her books range from sensual to scorching hot. She is a Career Achievement Award Nominee in Erotic Romance by Romantic Times Magazine, in both 2009 and 2010.

Beth has always been a dreamer, never able to escape her imagination. It led her to the craft of writing romance novels. She’s passionate about purple, books, and her family. She has a weakness for shoes and purses, as well as bookstores. Her path in life has taken several right turns, but she’s been with the man of her dreams for more than 20 years.

Beth works full-time and writes romance novels evening, weekends, early mornings and whenever there is a break in the madness. She is compassionate, funny, a bit reserved at times, tenacious and a little quirky. Her cowboys and western romances speak of a bygone era, bringing her readers to an age where men were honest, hard and packing heat. For a change of pace, she also dives into some smokin’ hot contemporaries, bringing you heat, romance and snappy dialogue.

Life might be chaotic, as life usually is, but Beth always keeps a smile on her face, a song in her heart, and a cowboy on her mind. ;)

www.bethwilliamson.com

Published by Beth Williamson

Copyright 2014
Beth Williamson

Cover design by Kim Killion

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author at [email protected].

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

For more information on the author and her works, please see www.bethwilliamson.com.

ISBN: 978-0-9885666-5-1