Texas Heroes: Volume 1 (48 page)

W
hen Perrie awoke, the sun was high overhead. She and Davey were alone.

In the bright light of day, it all seemed a dream—but the memories were too sharp, too pungent.

Too painful.

She could still feel him inside her, still see him rising above her like a warrior god. Still feel the earth-shattering power of her release, the sense of safety in his arms.

The sense of heaven found…and paradise lost.

He had offered his help—and she had answered him with lies. She didn’t know which of them she had hurt worse.

Perrie vaulted from the bed to escape the guilt that pounded away at her. Padding into the kitchen, she saw his dark scrawl on the scrap of paper.

Gone to town for supplies
. He hadn’t wanted to see her after last night. His metamorphosis from generous, breathtaking lover back to closed-in loner had been heartbreaking to watch.

Because she knew it was squarely her fault. Perrie paced the floor, gnawing at her knuckle. She knew how alone he was, had seen how hard trust came to him, yet when it came time to answer his trust, she had not. She had wanted to—oh, how she had wanted to spill out her story, to accept his strength…his aid and comfort.

But he deserved better.

She’d seen what Simon could do to anyone who got in his way. Mitch was big and strong, but Simon had a hundred men at his back. And Simon had something else Mitch did not—enough cruelty and ruthlessness for a thousand.

So no matter how much she wanted to ask for Mitch’s help, she could not. He had earned better repayment for all he’d done for her and her son.

Whatever had happened in his life to make him close down as he had, it must have been very bad. What she could bring to his doorstep would be worse. For the sake of his kindness to her, for his gentle care of her child, for the life he had saved…and for showing her the woman she could be, she would not yield to the temptation to lay her troubles on his shoulders, no matter how broad.

They had to leave. Today, while he was gone. She would keep heading west. They had to go before the next snow came. Before she spent any more time with Mitch and let her heart take the lead.

“Wake up, Davey,” she touched his shoulder gently. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”

Trusting blue eyes opened slowly, lit from within. “I’m still sleepy,” he yawned.

“How do you feel, sweetie?”

His eyes popped open, and he sat up, a little less agile than normal. “Ow—sore.” His head swiveled toward the door. “Where’s Mitch? I gotta ask him something.”

“He’s not here.”

Davey’s shoulders sagged. “I wanted to go out in the woods with him today. I thought he could show me how he climbed that cliff.”

Perrie resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his obviously intact sense of adventure, grateful for anything to stem the ache in her heart. “I don’t think you need to be doing anything like that for a while.”

“Mitch would take care of me. When he gets back, I’ll ask him if we can do it tomorrow.”

This wouldn’t be easy. “Sweetheart, we can’t stay here, now that Grandpa Cy is gone.”

His gaze was clear and trusting. “Sure we can. Mitch likes us.”

“Well, yes, Mitch is very fond of you, but he won’t be staying, either. He has jobs waiting for him. He has to travel a lot.”

Davey frowned faintly. “Then we should go with him.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible. It would interfere with his work.”

“But we could stay here and wait for him, right? He could come home when he was finished?”

The love he bore Mitch shone from his innocent gaze. Perrie’s chest tightened. “Davey, you and I aren’t really the right people to stay here through a whole winter when all it does is snow. Besides, once we get settled, you can have a yard and meet some friends and even watch cartoons again. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

He shook his head. “Mitch was right. TV’s not such a big deal.”

This was not the time for his stubborn streak to rear its head. “Davey, we can’t stay here. We have to pack and leave while we still have enough sun to make it to the car.”

“You mean today? We have to leave today?” He looked horrified.

“Yes, sweetheart. Now up and at ’em. You get dressed, and I’ll fix us something to eat.”

“What about Mitch? I need to talk to him.” The pouting lower lip had made way for a sense of urgency on his face.

“We’ll write Mitch once we get to our new town, and maybe he’ll come to visit.” Perhaps it could happen that way, though not anytime soon.

“We can’t just leave without saying goodbye.”

“David Lee Matheson, don’t argue with me.” Why did this have to be so hard? But she couldn’t explain, not to a five-year-old.

He looked so forlorn, so unsettled. The air whooshed from her chest. Dropping to a crouch, she held his shoulders. “Davey, Mitch has been very good to you—to both of us. There are grown-up reasons why this is the best thing to do for Mitch, and I have to ask you to trust me on this. We have to leave today, and I need you to help me. I know you care about Mitch. I care about him, too, and that’s why we have to go. He is too kind to us to tell us to leave, but he’s not used to living with other people. We came up here to live with Grandpa Cy, but Grandpa’s gone. This is Mitch’s cabin now.”

“He would let us stay. I know he would.”

Not after last night
, she thought.
Not after what I did
.

“Sweetie, he likes living alone. It’s what he’s used to. And he needs freedom to travel and not worry about us. I know it’s hard to leave Mitch, but sometimes you have to do the hard things for the sake of someone you care about. If you care about him—”

“I love Mitch!” Davey interjected, blue eyes filling with tears.

She nodded, drawing him close. “I know you do. So we have to do the right thing and leave now, so he can go on with his life.”

He burst into broken sobs against her neck. Perrie rubbed his back, fighting back her own despair. They had to do this. There was little she could do to repay Mitch’s kindness, but she could do this for him.

Steeling herself, she pulled Davey out in front of her. “If ever there was a time to be grown-up, Davey, this is it. Now please help me.” But rebellion still stirred within the heartbreak in his eyes. She made one more effort. “We’ll leave Mitch a note, one from you in which you can tell me what to say and I’ll write it—”

“I can write my own name and his, too.” Davey’s jaw jutted. They were far from through with this, she could tell.

“Fine. Then you write those, and tell me what you want written in the middle. We’ll leave the notes, and when we’re settled, we’ll let him know where we are.” It wasn’t quite a lie. Perhaps her letter to the reporter would bear fruit, and Simon would be caught one day soon. Then she would get back her life. And maybe contact Mitch.

But looking at Davey, she could tell that this was one of the times when her will would just have to prevail. She rose. “Please dress warmly in the clothes I’ve set out. I’ll fix us something to eat.” Then she left the room, knowing she hadn’t crossed the last hurdle.

But more sure than ever that this was the right thing to do. Davey would only get more attached if they stayed.

Mitch entered the general store, mentally assembling the list of supplies he would need to take to them, unease a hard knot in his gut at the thought of leaving them there through the winter.

But he would leave. After last night, one of them had to go. Cy might have given him the cabin, but it had only been because Perrie had vanished from Cy’s life. Mitch was convinced that something had kept her from being there for her grandfather. The old man would have wanted her to have the only thing he’d had to hand down.

Perrie knew how to handle herself up there. Her strength was almost fully returned. He would make sure there was a winter’s supply of wood and plenty of supplies. He would ask Hank Pearson at the ranger station to check in on them often.

Maybe he could come back and check himself—

No. Not a good idea, but it was hard as hell to think of leaving them there. What other choice existed? He couldn’t stay there and not want her. The last days had seduced him, made him wish for a dream. He’d let his damn fool heart open, allowed longing inside. Had let himself pretend that the haven was real.

But it was only the imaginings of a heart too long unused. He had to get out before there was nothing left of him to save. Rebuilding from scratch again might be more than he could bear. He had to lock the gates now.

“Hey, Mitch, how ya doin’?” Curly Bondurant greeted him from behind the cash register. “Didn’t expect to see you back so soon. Get much snow up there?”

“Enough,” he answered. “Already melting, though.”

“Yeah, might have a decent break before the next one. Here to stock up a little more?”

Mitch nodded.

“Don’t know how you stand it, no power or phone up there. Betty would go crazy without her TV or folks to talk to.”

He’d been alone so long, it had come to seem normal. It was his life. At least until Perrie and her child—

No. He couldn’t think about how it would feel without them. It was what it was. What had to be. Shaking his head, Mitch headed for the shelves of canned goods, looking for those noodle things Davey had said he liked.

“Say, Mitch, almost forgot.” Curly walked over and handed him two envelopes. “You got some mail. A letter for you and another one addressed to someone named Matheson sent in care of Cy. You got company up there?”

“Thanks.” But he didn’t answer Curly, studying the envelope addressed to Perrie. A Boston postmark. Mentally shrugging, he stuck it in his pocket, then looked at the one addressed to him. His heart thumped once, hard.

From Texas. From Morning Star.

Mitch’s stomach rose, then plummeted. He didn’t recognize the bold scrawl forming his name. It wasn’t his father’s handwriting—at least, he didn’t think so. He hadn’t seen that in years.

He couldn’t decide whether to stuff it in his pocket, too, or go ahead and read it. Finally, curiosity won out. He turned toward the door. “I’ll be back.”

Curly was obviously curious. “No need to go outside to read it. Good light in here.”

Mitch didn’t spare him a look, just kept walking. Curly’s need for entertainment wasn’t his concern.

Outside, he leaned against his truck, holding the envelope in his hands, a jumble of feelings tossing inside him. A letter from home, or someone close. But Morning Star hadn’t been home for half his life now.

His gut told him this wasn’t good news. He wondered how anyone had found him here.

Finally, he knew he had to read it, whatever it said. Tearing open the flap, he pulled out two sheets of paper inside.

Dear Mitch,

It’s been a long time, but I want you to come home
.

Home. The word sank in his chest like a stone tumbling over a cliff. Flashes of memory: his mother dying in his arms, his father’s rage as he told Mitch never to come back—

Mitch flipped to the last page, to the signature.

Boone
. His brother had been fourteen, raw-boned and all feet, just getting his height the last time Mitch had seen him. How did he look now? And why did Boone want him to come back?

Longing, swift and sharp, sank claws in his heart.

He turned back to the first page.

I don’t know how to say it easy, so I’ll just say it. Dad is dead. His heart gave out. He left the ranch to you and me and Maddie.

Sam was dead. Mitch couldn’t take it in. The father he had once worshipped…who had banished him forever.
Dead
. They would never reconcile, never take back the hateful words between them.

Mitch stared out across the road, seeing nothing. And wanted to howl.

He tightened his jaw. Dead was dead. Nothing he could do now. He turned back to the letter, finally noticing the other name.

Maddie? Who was Maddie?

Maddie’s my wife. It’s a long story, but she’s Dalton Wheeler’s daughter
.

Dalton Wheeler? The one who had vanished years ago? The ranch had been the old Wheeler place until Dalton’s mother died back when he and Boone were kids.

Boone, married. Mitch couldn’t get the picture of a gangly fourteen-year-old out of his head.

You’ll like her, Mitch. And we have a lot to talk about. Dad hired a private investigator to look for you and me both, but you’re one hard sonofagun to find.

Why had Sam needed to hunt for Boone? As much as Boone had loved the old place, Mitch had always assumed he would stay and take over one day.

And there’s more. We’ve got a half-sister we never knew about. Long story, but we’re looking for her now.

Mitch leaned heavily against his truck. A half-sister? Had Sam cheated on their mother? That bastard.

He closed his sagging jaw. Hell of a deal, dropping only part of a bombshell like that. Boone hadn’t changed much—still knew how to taunt his older brother.

Mitch shook his head and read on.

I’m giving you a chance to come back by yourself, but I’ll warn you—I’m coming after you if you don’t show up pretty soon. Dad was wrong to do what he did, and in the end, he knew it. I want my brother back. You belong on this land, same as I do.