“Really?” Nick was hoarse.
“Son, do you want to see my will? I’ve left all of this to the three of you equally. A parent doesn’t love one child more than the other, yet, Nick— you were our first. In a way, that makes you special, always, to me and Miranda.”
Nick hung his head. He felt Jane’s hand on his back. He heard his mother speaking.
“Nick, you know your father isn’t a liar, and you know that he is a warm, loving man. Don’t doubt his love for you! The day you left for England he wept.” At Derek’s startled look, she smiled through her own tears. “Yes, darling, I knew. I decided to leave you in privacy.” She touched Nick. “We both grieved, and we comforted each other. We didn’t want you to go, Nick. Do you want to know the truth? The truth is, if my father hadn’t been an earl, Derek would have left you the D and M, instead of leaving it to the three of you equally. We always thought you were the most like your father, and you know what? Because Derek and I never questioned his being your father, or his love, we sort of forgot the truth, and it didn’t seem strange that you should be so like Derek—more so than your brother. You’re the one who is happy working the land, you’re the one who is a homebody, a family man.”
Derek moved around the table, but stopped short at Nick’s side, not touching him. “You should have come to me immediately—not ten, no, fifteen years later! God, Nick, when I think of what you’ve been through …” He choked.
Nick looked up. “I was afraid.”
“How could you have doubted me?” Derek asked, his eyes glistening.
“I don’t know,” Nick managed.
“Do you—do you still doubt me?” Derek asked. “No.”
His eyes brimming, Derek smiled and pulled his son into his embrace for a big bear hug. Just for a moment, Nick clung, and then the two separated, both embarrassed.
“I should wallop the hell out of you,” Derek tossed out.
And, nose red, Nick laughed.
It was the happiest sound Jane had ever heard.
Arm in arm, hips brushing, they walked along the ridge at sunset overlooking the D and M. Below them, on the right, were the many timbered buildings of the ranch—the main house, the barns, the smokehouses, the bunkhouses, the tool sheds and tackrooms. On the left, in the distance, were the many rooftops of the little sprawling town. Above them, a golden eagle soared, and they both paused to watch.
“You know what?” Nick said, his tone lighter than Jane had ever heard it, his body relaxed against hers, “I feel like that bird.”
Jane cuddled closer into his side. “Like a bird?”
He smiled down at her, his eyes warm and unshadowed. “I feel like that eagle. I feel so light, so free, that I could fly, soar, along these mountain-tops.”
“I’m so glad, Nicholas,” Jane said.
His hand stroked her shoulder. She said, “They are very special people.”
“Yes, they are.”
“Quite the couple.”
“Absolutely.” Nick suddenly chuckled. “Derek thinks you’re like Miranda. It tickles him to death!”
“He can’t get past our accents, is all,” Jane teased.
“He knows a lady and a beauty when he sees one,” Nick said, lifting her hand to kiss it. “Mmm, you taste good.”
She kissed his shoulder, eyeing him. “You taste like horse.”
He laughed, a roar she had never heard before, one suspiciously like his father’s. “Really? You just don’t know what to do seeing me in blue cotton and denim pants and cowboy boots!”
“I think the outfit is—er—interesting,” she said. Then she looked at him askance. “I think the pants fit you too well, Nicholas.”
“Too well?” He grinned. “And why is that?”
“They’re rather … provocative.”
He laughed, another roar, and lifted her up and swung her around. She shrieked and clung, and when he put her down, they were both breathless and giggling like children. They started walking again.
