The Circle Eight: Nicholas (3 page)

He lifted his head and stared in her eyes. This beautiful, haunted man already owned a part of her heart, and now he’d taken even more.

“Are you all right?”

She smiled. “I don’t think I have ever felt more right in my life.”

He frowned and then rose, stealing his heat from her and tearing a bit of her happiness with him. She accepted his offer of a handkerchief, cleaned herself up and they both dressed silently. He stood behind her and plucked a few pieces of hay from her hair. The entire time they worked, he would not look in the eye.

Dread began to push aside the contentment she’d been experiencing. Something was wrong.

“Nicholas?”

He shook his head and looked at a spot somewhere over her left shoulder. “This was a mistake.”

Her stomach dropped to her knees. “You don’t believe that.”

“Yes, I do.” He turned to leave and she fisted her hands to keep from slapping him.

“You cannot hide forever. I see you for who you are, Nicholas Graham.” She damned the tremble in her voice. “Now you need to do the same.”

He left the stall without a word, leaving her to quake and swallow the bile that had risen at the way he ran from her. Wasn’t he affected by what they’d done? How could he be so cold after what they’d shared?

Coming to the Circle Eight had been a mistake. Now Winnie had experienced something else for the first time—heartbreak.

Things couldn’t possibly get any worse. Nick stared at Matt as though he could force his older brother to change his mind. As if that ever worked in all his life.

“You want me to escort her back to Houston?” Nick hated the way his voice broke, like he was a thirteen-year-old boy.

“None of us know her like you do. We can’t force the old man to do it. Hell, he can’t even hold a fork.” Matt glanced at Bartholomew, who sported a sling and a pained expression while Eva hovered over him.
“Damn fool drank too much of McRae’s homemade whiskey and fell down drunk. I think his arm is busted.”

Nick
had missed it all since he’d been in the barn. With Winnie. Where he’d had the most incredible experience of his life. Hell, his goddamn knees still shook.

He wanted to forget it happened because it would color everything for the rest of his life. Yet he also knew he would never, ever forget.

“I can’t help what the old man did. It’s not my fault.”

“
I didn’t say it was, but it don’t change the fact she has a business in Houston and needs an escort back.” Matt scowled in his typical older brother way.

“I
’m not gonna do it.” Nick crossed his arms.

“You will do it.” Matt leaned his close, his gaze brimming with anger. “I don’t know what made you so angry at the world, but Miss Watson is a friend of this family. You saved her life in Houston. She trusts you. I don’t care what excuse you have. You
will
do this.”

Nick wanted to argue. He wanted to shout and yell until his throat was raw. Yet he didn’t. Matt was right and Nick had no excuse. Not one his brother would accept. Winnie was sweet, polite and deserved better than an idiot cowboy. Even if he
had fallen in love with her the first time he saw her.

“I don’t
want
to do this.”

Matt ran his hand down his face. “I think that’s clear. To everyone. Including her. If you don’t escort her, the women will kill both of us.”

“What about the old man?”

“Eva is enjoying fussing over him. He can stay here until he’s healed up.” Matt met Nick’s gaze. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but you gotta find a way around it.”

Nick swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’ll take her.” He turned and walked away before he said something stupid.

The guests had gone and the Grahams were busy cleaning up the remnants of the wedding feast. Vaughn and Elizabeth sat beneath Mama’s tree speaking quietly to Winnie. The young’uns were tuckered out, likely inside napping. The sun hung low in the sky. It was a peaceful scene, one he watched but couldn’t become part of.

He passed all of them and went to the barn. Probably not the wisest decision but he wanted to ready the wagon and the horses. The sooner they left for Houston the better. He knew they wouldn’t leave tonight but they would leave before the sun rose. Nick had done some dumb things in his life but being intimate with Winnie during the wedding feast topped them all. And now he walked into the very place they’d found incredible bliss. His gut tightened to the point he tasted bile in this throat.

“What are you doing?” Benjy appeared from the shadows. The lanky
fourteen-year-old was silent as a cat and rarely spoke. They had become closer during the trip to find Elizabeth after the Gibsons had taken her. The brothers weren’t exactly best friends but they understood each other more than the others did. Benjy had suffered unspoken horrors during the five years he’d been gone as a child. Nick hadn’t, but he still carried the darkness in him.

“Matt is
making me take Miss Watson back to Houston in the morning.” Nick sounded petulant even to his own ears.

Benjy shrugged, his too-wise gaze uncomfortably sharp. “She’s a nice lady.”

Nick couldn’t disagree. She was a nice lady, and so much more. “I’ve got things to do here. Taking four days to drive to Houston and back isn’t gonna get things done.”

Benjy didn’t reply. What could he say? The excuse was ridiculous, bordering on stupid.

“You want to come with us?” A final effort to save himself from being alone with Winnie again.

With a shake of his head, Benjy squashed that idea. “Both of us can’t be gone at the same time.”

He was right of course. Nick was being a ridiculous fool, but as was his way, he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “Then help me grease up this rig’s wheels. It’s ancient and I don’t know if it will make it without a bit of work.”

The work helped to take his mind off the impending trip. They checked the rig over, greased up the axles and checked the traces. The leather was worn but not ready to fall apart yet. Whoever they
’d rented it from should have been horse-whipped for letting an old man and a woman drive it all the way to the Circle Eight. At best, this was a ride-around-town rig.

Darkness had fallen when he finally decided it was good enough to make it back to Houston. Benjy sat on an upended bucket watching him. The boy had probably decided Nick had lost a bit of his mind, which wasn’t too far from the truth.

“Supper time.” Benjy pointed toward the door. “Eva rang the bell a few minutes ago.”

“Get yourself cleaned up then
, or she’ll tear my hide off if you’re late.” Nick wiped his forehead with an already dirty rag and blew out a breath. He was tired. Beyond that, though, exhausted. It had been so long since he’d slept well, if at all. Physical labor helped him forget all of it, for a short time.

Benjy stared at Nick a moment longer before he stood up. “You gotta let the light in sometimes. Darkness will eat you alive.” With that bit of sage wisdom, the young man left the barn.

Sometimes Nick forgot everything his brother had endured. Benjy had lived under the thumb of a kidnapper, sold as a commodity to a man who’d done unspoken things to him. Nick’s problems paled in comparison. He felt petty and ridiculous, but it was what it was. Perhaps driving Winnie to Houston was a good idea. It could be the knock to the head he needed to climb out of his hole.

Rebecca watched from the corner of the house. Her heart did a pittypat as Vaughn picked up Elizabeth’s hand and kissed her palm before they climbed in the wagon and drove away for their honeymoon. Her sister had found a hero—a man who’d changed his life and swept in to marry her. It was terribly romantic.

One day Rebecca might find a man who would do such a thing for her. She had no illusions about actually finding that man, not out in the middle of nowhere Texas. Nope, she would have to travel to locate such a hero, or settle for a man who would provide her security, a home, children and a future.

It wasn’t a very fair choice, to be certain. She dreamed of more, though. Now seeing Ellie with Vaughn, it made Rebecca ache for her own slice of heaven. Being seventeen was prime marrying age. Many of the girls she knew had already decided on their choice of husbands. It was slim pickings.

She hadn’t told anyone, but Rebecca had a man in mind. It was no one her family would approve of and she wasn’t sure he would be a hero. She couldn’t love a man if he couldn’t be a hero.

The sunrise brushed the sky with a swath of pink when Nick led the horses to the rig and hooked up the traces. An early morning mist hung in the air, the humidity of the day making itself known. Summer had its grip on Texas and it wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

The horses were not the cow ponies he was used to but they were solid animals, a matched set of bays. Both geldings were well taken care of, unlike the carriage. He double-checked the gear and then led the rig out of the barn.

Winnie stood there, bag in hand, wearing a light blue dress. Her beauty stunned him, knocking the words out of his mouth. He nodded at her, avoiding her gaze lest he make an ass of himself. Again.

“Eva packed some food for the journey.” Winnie held up a burlap sack.

Nick grunted. He stepped toward her and reached for her traveling bag. She pulled back, surprising him.

“Perhaps you can actually look at me again one day without flinching.” Her words were harsh but her voice was the opposite. Hurt.

“I never meant to hurt you, Winnie.” His soft apology wasn’t enough.

“I do not give myself lightly, Mr. Graham. Your behavior since yesterday has been insulting and belittles what we shared.” She swept past him and her clean scent washed over him.

Nick had wrestled with his conscience since they had been together. Now it stabbed him. And he deserved it.

“Would it help if I said I’m sorry?” The words were out of his mouth before he realized it.

“No, but it’s a start.” She placed her bags beneath the seat and pulled herself into the carriage. “We’d best be on our way.”

No response was needed. He tucked his saddlebags beneath the carriage, tied his horse to the back and hoisted himself into the driver’s seat. The next two days would be difficult, to say the least. He hoped he didn’t make too much of an ass of himself.

Winnie kept her head turned, looking out at the landscape. The awkward silence made the first hour pass slower than a molasses drip. Each minute crawled past. She sat beside him, stiff as a board, her entire body screaming, “Never again,” in his direction.

“You’re gritting your teeth so loudly you scared a flock of birds.” The first words she spoke startled him. He tugged on the reins, in turn making the horses toss their heads and pick up speed.

“Whoa, boys, whoa.” Embarrassed and annoyed, he slowed the horses back down to an appropriate speed for the carriage.

“You have no reason to be angry with me, Mr. Graham.” He knew this Winnie. She was the one he’d met in Houston. She was hard as an oak tree and tougher than its bark.

“No, I don’t.” He loosened his grip on the leather and flexed his fingers. He’d been gripping them so hard he’d given himself cramps.

“Then stop acting as though you’ve been wronged. I will not accept your anger for an unsubstantiated reason.” Her hands were folded neatly on her lap but her grip appeared to be as tight as his had been.

Guilt assailed him. Winnie damn well didn’t deserve to be treated the way he’d been treating her. Their experience had been mutual and he damn sure was a willing participant. If he could stop acting like a horse’s ass, things would be better for both of them. Too bad he couldn’t stop.

“I know why you do it.”

“Do what?” He wanted to be done talking.

“Why you push people, me, away. Why you
’re angry all the time. Why you spend so much time alone.”

Every word slammed into him. She couldn’t possibly know all that.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her sigh was so soft he nearly missed it. “I know because I
’ve been through it myself. For years.”

“What are you yammering about, woman?” He told himself not to be angry with her, to let it pass. That worked out badly.

“I’m talking about being so sad some days you can barely drag yourself out of bed.” She had turned toward him, her face flushed with anger. “Or so angry that even the smallest incident incites fury. Or not caring if you take another breath.”

Nick stared at her, his heart hammering hard enough to make his ears hurt. “What are you talking about?” His words were barely a whisper.

She grabbed his hand. “I know, Nick.
I know
. I lived it for a long time. The only reason I survived was because I met Vaughn, the very first person who cared about me. He helped me realize what I was doing, how I was destroying myself. As you are doing.”

Horrified, he could only stare. Nick was not destroying himself. He was going through a bad patch.

“Let me help you, Nick.”

“I don’t need help.” He shook off her hand. “There ain’t nothing wrong with me.”

If he’d thought the silence before was awkward, he’d been wrong. The air between them was thick enough to cut with a knife. It fairly crackled with tension and the lies he’d just spouted to her.

“You don’t have to be honest with me now. I wanted to be sure you knew I understood.” Her tone had lost the bite it had a few minutes earlier. Instead it held the promise of revisiting the conversation. Something he did not want to do. Ever.

The best response, in his opinion, was no response. He simply stared straight ahead and ignored her huffing beside him. She was likely thinking of ways to punish him for being stubborn and obnoxious.

His throat was drier than the ground beneath the wheels. Hell, he could hardly swallow. Just thinking about how thirsty he was made it worse. He licked his lips and tried to get past it.

It didn’t work.

“Do you, uh, have water?” He,
undoubtedly, sounded pitiful.

“Yes
, of course I do. Would you like some?”

He counted to five before he answered. “That would be why I asked if you had water.”

“I know. I just wanted to hear you ask for a drink rather than peering around the corner silently.” She handed him the canteen, much to his confusion.

“You confound me, Winnie.”