"NO!" Jeremiah cried, just as Josh prepared to shoot the Mexican down. Ortega whirled to face the black man.
"No?" Ortega repeated suspiciously. "Why do you care what I do with her?"
"She's harmless. Let her go," Jeremiah urged as Josh debated shooting Ortega in the back. Every instinct deplored such an act, but he could not let the bandit shoot Candace or Jeremiah.
"Why did you come back?" Ortega asked, his suspicions growing. "To plead for the life of an old woman?"
"No!" Josh shouted from his hiding place. "He brought Logan here!"
Ortega turned, firing blindly at the sound of Josh's voice. Josh felt something strike his chest, but he fired back, and a splotch of red appeared on the bandit's shirtfront. Then the night exploded as guns roared everywhere at once.
In the confusion, Josh caught sight of Jeremiah, his pistol still holstered, dragging Candace off into the shadows and out of the line of fire. Josh aimed carefully, keeping his half-brother covered as the black man shielded Candace with his own body.
Josh kept shooting, switching to his spare gun when the first one clicked empty. His shirt was clinging, soaking wet, and some distant part of his brain registered that fact, but he took no time to analyze it. Then he thought he heard familiar voices shouting his name, but he could not be certain. A mysterious fog had settled over the clearing, distorting sights and sounds.
His spare gun clicked empty, too, but when he tried to open the cylinder to reload, his fingers fumbled and the gun slipped from his grasp. He reached to pick it up, but it was just too far away.
"Josh! Josh, are you all right?" Grady's voice asked through the fog. Josh opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out. "Oh, my God," Grady's voice said, and then the fog closed in, dark and silent.
Felicity stared bleakly out the window as the train pulled into the Philadelphia station. Self-consciously, she smoothed the fabric of her homemade Mother Hubbard over the obvious mound of her stomach. All the beautiful clothes she had gotten during her last visit to the city were now packed away, too small for her burgeoning figure.
Richard would lift his elegant eyebrows when he saw her gown, but then he would discern the reason for it. Heaven only knew what his reaction would be then. Felicity sighed wearily at the thought. After her long trip, she simply did not feel up to dealing with him at all. Unfortunately, she was afraid she would not have a choice. Knowing Richard, he was bound to be meeting her train.
As Simon Duvalier bustled about the car, moving her luggage so it could be easily unloaded, Felicity was reminded of her first visit here and how Joshua had stood by her side. Thoughts of Joshua caused an unpleasant throb in the general region of her heart, which she would have thought was past feeling any pain at all.
What was she going to tell Richard and her grandfather? How could she admit to them that Joshua had sent her away when she couldn't even admit it to herself quite yet? But she didn't have to tell them, not at first. She could tell them Joshua's lie. He had sent her here for expert medical attention. He would be joining her before the baby's birth.
And maybe he really would come, she found herself thinking. Maybe all her fears and suspicions were ridiculous notions caused by her delicate condition. Hadn't she once thought that Joshua and Blanche were having an affair and wanted her to die so they could be together? Pregnant women were not always completely rational, as she knew from experience. And he had promised, several times during the past month and again at the station just before she left.
But then she recalled the way he had treated her all during that month. He had been polite and solicitous of her, but aloof and cold, too, never touching her if he could help it. Only in the dark of night had they come together at all, and although her body had responded to his touch, her heart had recoiled at the cautious way he held himself back, as if unwilling to give too much.
The memory brought tears to her eyes, and she was wiping them away when Simon announced, "We're here, Mrs. Logan. I believe that's Mr. Winthrop coming for you."
"Oh, perfect," Felicity muttered, rising from her seat just as Richard burst into the car parlor.
"Felicity!" Richard exclaimed. He looked just as elegant as she remembered, every raven lock combed to perfection, his suit uncreased and exquisitely tailored, his face flawlessly handsome. He spread his arms wide as if to embrace her, and Felicity noticed he was carrying a bouquet of flowers.
The way his welcoming smile gradually changed into a look of stunned surprise was almost comical. The flowers slipped unheeded from his hand and tumbled to the floor. His arms dropped to his sides.
"Felicity," he whispered, aghast. "What has he done to you?"
Felicity experienced a quick flash of fury at his reaction, but before she could give Richard the edge of her tongue, her grandfather spoke from behind them.
"That's fairly obvious, isn't it?" Maxwell asked, stepping around his nephew into the car.
"Grandfather!" Felicity cried in delight, rushing to kiss him. "I didn't expect you to come to the station."
"And why not?" he asked, feigning offense. Indeed, when he stepped away again and she got a good look at him, she realized he was now completely recovered from the malaise he had previously suffered. Before her stood the same Henry Maxwell who had built a legendary financial empire.
"You look wonderful," she said with a smile.
"And you look… different," he said with a significant glance at her protruding stomach. Almost overnight, several weeks ago, her figure had changed. Suddenly she looked pregnant, and her long-kept secret was now public knowledge.
"Yes, I-" she began, placing one hand defensively on her belly, but her grandfather didn't wait for her to explain.
"When do you expect it?" he asked, his canny eyes narrowing speculatively.
"Around Christmas."
"Well," he said, growing cheerful again, "at least one good thing happened to you when you were here last spring."
Ignoring the strangled noise that Richard made behind him, Maxwell led Felicity back to the settee where she had been sitting. "But why has Joshua sent you back here?" he asked as they sat down. "Should you be traveling in your condition?"
Felicity felt herself blanch at her grandfather's unintentional choice of words, but she recovered quickly. "You remember I told you that our first child died?" she began, looking down at where her hands were clenched in her lap so he would not see her eyes as she told this half-truth. "We want this child to have every chance. Joshua thought… we both thought that the doctors here would be better."
"Yes, of course, I understand completely," Maxwell said, patting her hands reassuringly. "But why didn't young Joshua come with you? I thought it odd when you said he wasn't coming, and now that I know the reason for your visit, it seems doubly so."
Felicity managed a smile and forced herself to meet her grandfather's eyes. "He couldn't be away from the ranch that long, but hell be here before the baby is born," she said, reciting her carefully prepared speech. For one horrible second she thought her grandfather was going to challenge her statement, but then he, too, smiled.
"Of course," he said, so blandly that Felicity could not tell whether he believed her or not. Then he turned to where Richard still stood. "Are you going to stand there gaping all day, boy?" he inquired. "You act as if you had never seen a lady who was enceinte before."
Richard visibly shook himself, flushing at the rebuke. "I'm sorry," he said tightly. "I didn't mean to be rude. It was just such a… a shock." He made a great show of picking up the flowers he had dropped and rearranging them. By the time he had them orderly again, he had recovered his poise. "Welcome home, Cousin Felicity," he said quite formally, presenting her with the bouquet.