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Martha tugged at the rags and most of them shredded away. Then she tucked the towel around as best she could and went to get something hot for them all to drink.

Travis leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He could feel the boy's heart pounding as fast as a bird's against his chest. The child cried once, very softly, and turned his face into Travis's shoulder. The boy's cold cheek rested against his throat, and Travis thought he felt warm tears falling.

Muddy, wet, and feeling his leg cramping, Travis made no effort to move. He just held on tight and willed the tiny body to warm.

When he opened his eyes, his two brothers were staring at him. They were also muddy and wet but didn't seem to notice. The child was the center of all their thoughts and worries.

"The kid knows," Tobin whispered. "He knows you're the one who saved him."

"How could he?" Travis shifted slightly.

Tobin shrugged as Teagen tossed him one of the towels Sage brought in. "I don't know, but I can read him as clear as I do a horse. He's half wild and scared to death, but he knows he's safe now."

"He does smell like a horse," Teagen offered as Sage hit him with a towel.

"He knows," Sage interrupted, "because you're his hero. He must have seen you that day before the battle. If one of the scouts spotted you, maybe the boy did, too. If you ask me, he wasn't trying to run away from anything, he's been trying to find you."

Travis frowned at her logic, but Tobin nodded. "Face it, Big Brother, you're his mother duck. The first thing he saw he could trust, and he's bonded with you for life."

"Surely he belongs somewhere," Travis reasoned.

"Maybe," Teagen offered, "but until we find out where, it looks like he belongs to you."

Travis wasn't sure he could take care of himself, much less a child. He thought of bringing up alternative plans like farming him out to some family who could do a better job than him of watching over the boy, but he didn't say a word. The grip around his neck told him plainly that the boy had no plans of going anywhere.

Tobin pulled off his muddy boots and asked, "What are we going to call him?"

Sage patted the child's damp hair. "Duck," she said.

The brother's nodded. They'd had no experience with names, and Duck sounded as good as any.

It took Travis an hour to get Duck to pull away enough to drink Martha's special warm milk with molasses blended in. Once the boy swallowed his first gulp, Travis had a battle on his hands to keep him from downing all of it at once. Half the cup spilled on him, mixing with the mud and rain already soaking his clothes.

Travis fought down an oath as the others laughed.

When the boy finally fell asleep, Travis lowered him to a thick bear rug on the floor and left him in Sage and Martha's care while he went to the back to clean up. When he returned, the boy was still asleep, but much cleaner and dressed in an old shirt of Sage's long enough to have been a dress on the kid.

Travis covered him and moved to the desk. He'd write the Rangers and ask if anyone knew of a child his age being kidnapped. Now that Duck was clean, Travis could tell he had sandy blond hair. He might have parents looking for him somewhere, but by his thin body and inability to speak, Travis feared he'd been captured very young, and if that was true, the chances were his parents were dead. They wouldn't have let him wander far at such a young age, or permitted him to leave them without a fight.

When Travis finished one letter, he started another to his fairy woman. He had no way of knowing if she ever got the first letter he mailed, but for some strange reason he wanted to write and tell her about Duck. Maybe he thought the woman would understand how the little one felt being all alone, or maybe he wanted to write because he had something to talk about besides his pain and her crime.

An hour later he moved to the chair by the fire and tucked Duck in, then relaxed. Everyone else in the house waited out the storm. He guessed Teagen was in the main room at his work desk. Tobin would be watching the storm from the porch. If it let up, he'd be heading toward the barn to calm the animals. Sage and Martha talked softly as they worked in the kitchen.

Travis felt a tiny hand touch his, then the child was back in his arms. Duck cuddled against his side and went back to sleep without even looking up to see if he were welcome.

Travis frowned. Duck must be one brave little boy, because Travis usually frightened children. Looking over as Martha entered, Travis pointed toward the child with his head and frowned, silently asking what to do.

Martha winked, but didn't offer to help. "That's just the way kids are-they climb on your heart and stay there. Nothing you can do about it." She collected the pile of towels and left without another word.

Travis thought about what the old housekeeper said long after she'd gone. She was right. Duck had climbed on his heart the minute Travis had seen him chained at the camp. He'd fought that day, almost lost his life, but even through the pain he'd worried about the child and hoped later that the Germans had found him still alive. With a shock he realized, if he had to, he'd walk that close to death again for this kid.

Travis cupped the boy's head with his hand. "It's all right, Duck," he whispered. "You're safe."

The boy relaxed in sleep, and Travis knew he'd feel the weight of the kid's heart against his for the rest of his life. What happened the day of the raid didn't matter; it was in the past. What counted was that they lived through it. They might be a little the worse for wear, but they were alive.

"You know, Duck," Travis whispered, "we're both going to be just fine."

Hours later, when the house was asleep, Travis returned to his desk and added a sentence to the letter he'd written about Duck.

In this midnight hour I think of you and how you vanished into the night. I found myself wondering what it would be like to sleep with your heart against mine. I know we are strangers, but you felt so right in my arms. I can't help but wonder if any woman will ever feel that way again. You remain in my thoughts,

Travis

He sealed the letter before he could change his mind and scratch out the words he'd written. It felt good to be honest with her even if he'd told her something in the letter that he'd probably never had the nerve to say aloud.

CHAPTER 15

Rainey felt her blood chill as she leaned closer to the window so that she heard every word. The air held a frost tonight, and fog settled into the alley so thick she couldn't make out the women below, but she knew their voices. Snort and Whiny, the barmaids she'd listened to every night for over a month.

"We wouldn't have to kill him, would we?" the one Rainey called Whiny whimpered. "I don't know if I could do that. I ain't got a murdering bone in my body."

"It's our only way out of this place, don't you see, baby?" Snort answered, her tone soft as if she were talking to a child. "Otherwise, we'll be here until some customer, who thinks he didn't get his money's worth, kills us or Haskell kicks us out."

"He wouldn't do that," Whiny cried, her voice sounding barely old enough to be that of a woman.

"I seen him do it to a woman the day he hired me," the older woman answered. "I was in the back changing clothes. Haskell waited until she came in to work. He offered to buy her one on the house and she said, 'Just tell me the bad news.' I could hear him pouring her a drink anyway."

"Did you look out?" Whiny interrupted. "Was she old or scarred?"

"Both," Snort admitted. "She was eight, maybe ten, years older than me. Well on her way to being too wrinkled to attract anything but a blind drunk."

Snort made a sound half between a laugh and a cough. "Haskell shoved a drink toward her and told her it would be her last at his place. She cried and complained for a few minutes, but she knew him well enough not to stand within swinging distance. He yelled at her and she left without another word. I heard later she got run over by a stage pulling into town. The driver claimed she stepped right in front of his team."