She sniffed, brushed a tear from his eyes, while finally letting her own flow unchecked. “Does this mean you forgive me for my stupid impulsiveness once again?”
He laughed through the blur of his vision. “Darling , I can forgive you anything—as long as you never stop loving me.”
She smiled then, impishly. “Stop loving you? That, Nicholas, would be impossible.”
55
West Texas
Jane had never quite had a ride like this before.
Dust filled the coach, and she’d long since given up holding a kerchief to her nose. She’d grown used to the thick taste of grit on her tongue. If the carriage had springs, they were broken. She was jarred by every rut and pothole, which meant that despite Nicholas’s supporting arm around her, she was tumbling around like a pair of straight die. Chad clung tenaciously to the seat opposite where he sat, his eyes wide and round as saucers as he stared at the rugged passing landscape. “Papa,” he asked again, for the dozenth time, “are you sure there are no Indians?”
Beside her, just for a moment, the earl relaxed, and a hint of a smile touched the corners of his mouth. “Well,” he said levelly, “maybe just one or two renegades hiding up on that ridge.”
If possible, Chad’s eyes grew larger. “Wow!”
Nicole was the true trooper, enjoying the madcap ride, shrieking with delight every time they all went into the air, as if it were nothing more than being tossed by her father. Molly was a distinct shade of apple green, nearly oblivious to her charge’s howling pleasure.
No, she had never had a ride quite like this one. Jane was gripping the earl’s palm as she rode the bucking stage. And he was clenching her hand back just as tightly.
His face was taut, as taut as his grip on her. Jane knew he was filled with anxiety, in the clutches of his own inner turmoil. She leaned close to kiss his cheek. Briefly he smiled at her, squeezing her hand. And then his gaze turned out the window, his jaw so tight he surely must be grinding down his teeth one by one.
“I’m sorry about this, Jane,” he said. “Soon the railhead to the D and M will be completed, probably in the spring. But until then, the only way to my parents’ ranch is via stage from San Antonio.”
“It’s all right,” Jane said softly, covering his palm in hers with her other gloved hand. “At the least, this is a unique experience, especially for the children. And the country is magnificent.”
It was. A sage- and mesquite-studded vista rolled away from them in shades of purple and green. In the distance, jagged mountains etched a mauve line across the bluest sky Jane had ever seen. Never had Jane had the feeling before of being so insignificant, or of being in the midst of God’s land. The power and majesty of this huge, raw, wild country stretching before her was overwhelming and scintillating.
And her husband was a part of it.
“D ‘n’ M just up ahead,” yelled the driver from outside, above them.
Eagerly Jane and Molly and Chad all rushed to peer out the windows for a glimpse of the Bragg ranch. Only the earl sat unmoving. Jane was disappointed when what looked like a small but busy town greeted her. They roared down a wide dirt street, and she glimpsed brick storefronts and homes with gardens and white picket fences. Then they pulled to a stop in front of a small shop. Its sign, hanging lopsided from a chain, said JOE’S POSTE STAGE STOPS HERE.
Jane looked at the earl, who was rigid and still. “Why, this isn’t a ranch, it’s a town!”
Nick could not manage a smile. He looked at her numbly. He was sweating. “Rathe said the ranch had grown. None of this was here when I left in sixty-five.”
Jane was worried by his tone and his expression. She took his hand again. “Darling, it will be all right.”
He held her gaze. They hadn’t discussed the situation between him and his father again, not once in the past two weeks since their reconciliation. Nick had not brought up the topic, and Jane, although wanting to, was afraid it was too sensitive for her to mention. But now she saw the naked worry in his eyes, and her heart wept for him. She touched his cheek as the door opened and Chad bounced out. “Darling, everything will be fine, you will see.”
Molly exited with Nicole, who was having a temper tantrum because the ride had ended.
Nick gripped her hand hard. “Do you think so?” he asked hoarsely.
“I’m sure,” she managed, unnerved by his fear and anxiety.
And then from outside a voice boomed: “Are you Chad Bragg?”
“No, sir,” Chad piped. “I’m Chad Bragg, Lord Shelton.”
“Lord! No—I don’t believe it!”
“It’s the truth—you can ask my papa!”
Suddenly Chad shrieked, and Jane saw through the window a big leonine man in his early sixties lifting the boy high in the air. “I am Grandpa Bragg!” he shouted.
