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At first his eyes were hard, then she detected a softening. He sighed. “What more do you need to know? I’m a Duggan.”
“I don’t believe that says it all.”
He looked past her. Kept his attention focused on something beyond her shoulder.
“Brand, who are you besides that?”
Slowly his gaze came to her, and she shivered at the pain she saw embedded in them. He blinked as if he hoped to erase it, but failed.
She squeezed her fingers tighter to keep from reaching for him. Her heart could not forget the few days when she’d believed in him. The way they’d laughed together, nursed Dawg together. The way they’d kissed. “Why did you kiss me?”
The pain in his eyes deepened, turning them to black coals. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “That’s not what I want to hear.” When had she become so demanding? So outspoken? She knew the answer. When she began to sort out the pieces of what she knew about Brand. “Things just don’t add up. If you were staking out the place, as we’re supposed to believe, why did you never visit Eddie’s house? Why did you avoid everyone on the ranch except me? Why didn’t you ask questions about the place? What kind of front man could you possibly be?” She grew impassioned as she spoke, lifting her hands imploringly.
She knew she wasn’t mistaken in judging his attitude shifted. His shoulders relaxed. His breathing came easier.
Then he shrugged. “I’m still a Duggan and that is how I’ll be judged.”
“Are you saying you’ll go the gallows with your only defense being that you’re a Duggan? Need I point out that is no defense at all?”
He tipped his head to one side in a dismissive gesture.
“I don’t understand.” She sorted through the events of the past few days. “Why did Cyrus kidnap me? If you were doing the job of spying out the land, why kidnap me? Wouldn’t it just bring more attention to the gang? What purpose did my kidnapping serve?”
“Apart from giving Cyrus some sport, you mean?”
It wasn’t meant as a question but an answer. A truly unsatisfactory one, she decided.
“I was very angry at first. I don’t like being deceived. But more and more the whole situation simply doesn’t make sense.”
He studied the shape of his dog’s head, visually examined the grain of the wood in the wall beside him and generally pretended a great interest in everything but her demands.
“Brand. Can you not offer an explanation? Don’t I deserve at least that much?”
He shifted his gaze back to her, all sign of emotion gone. “You figure one little kiss gives you the right to know everything about me?”
His harsh words drained the concern from her thoughts. She rose to her feet in a slow, self-controlled manner. “I haven’t given the kiss another thought.” It was as false as his pretense to be a good, kind man. Or was his falsehood in pretending to be an outlaw? She left the barn without a backward look.
But she could not shake off the feeling that things were not as they appeared, if anyone cared to look beyond the surface.
But was anyone willing to do so?
* * *
Brand waited until he knew she was long gone before he let out a low groan. “Sure hate to be mean to her,” he explained to Dawg. “But what’s the point in her thinking I’m innocent? The Mountie caught me in the act of robbing the store.” No one would believe he was there against his will. After all, he was a Duggan. And that said it all. He’d ask for no mercy except from God, who knew the truth and had forgiven more than one Duggan.
Lord, there’s still Cyrus. Give him a chance to repent, too.
And thank you that Sybil wonders if I’m guilty.
Brand could die with joy tucked around his heart to know that. More than that. If he held on to the memory of her facing down Cal, he could die happy.
He sobered instantly. He did not fancy dangling at the end of a rope. But he saw no way of avoiding it.
Because the truth was, he had been involved in a robbery. He had become what he had avoided so hard for years.
He’d become a Duggan in more than name.
Unable to guess at the time except to know the sun shone in the western window of the barn, he settled down to wait, Dawg at his side.
