after him. Drag me along. But don't expect me to support your decision."
"I never asked you to,” he said, lying down beside her. “In fact, I never asked you for a damn thing. I think it's about time you remember that you're my prisoner. What I say goes. I don't need your opinion or your approval."
She remained silent for several long minutes, searching for a comfortable position. Lucas had his back to her, and though his breathing sounded deep and even, she knew he was still awake.
"My mother told me once that roses are the hardiest of all flowers.” She spoke softly, sure he could hear her in the dark silence, with only the campfire crackling at their feet. “In winter, snow and ice cover them, sometimes so brutally that you think nothing could possibly live for months under those conditions. Then spring comes, and the snow melts. And before you know it, tiny rosebuds appear. It seems like a miracle—until you realize that all they really needed was a little sunshine to melt the ice. It's like a never-ending promise from God. A promise of roses to bloom every spring.
"The ice will melt someday, Lucas. All you have to do is let a little sunshine into your heart."
Lucas rose before dawn the next morning, having gotten no more than a pinch of sleep here or there. Too many things plagued his mind, not the least of which was Megan's speech the previous night. Her words bothered him more than he wanted to admit. He found himself wondering if she was right, if he should try to put the past behind him and start over. And then he pictured Annie and Chad the way he'd found them that day. So much blood everywhere. He remembered the goading tone of Scott's note, and he knew he could never put things behind him until Scott was dead.
The hatred began once again to swirl through his body, making him ever more determined to see Silas Scott suffer for his crimes.
He had half a notion to leave Megan behind. He could drop her off in the next town and go on without her. She was becoming too much of a burden to him, knowing about his past, trying to change his mind about what he knew had to be done. And yet he didn't want to continue the journey alone. Or maybe it wasn't that he didn't want to be alone but that he didn't want to be without her .
Christ, she was driving him insane.
Despite his urgency to find Scott, he almost looked forward to bedding down these days—whether on the hard ground or in a comfortable hotel room—because he knew that sometime during the night Megan would roll onto her stomach and drape herself across his long body. And, damn, he liked that. He liked the way she felt, the way she smelled, the way she mumbled in her sleep.
He still grinned like a schoolboy whenever he remembered her admitting to having a brain disorder. A broken sieve, for Christ's sake! What would she come up with next?
He stared at her for a moment, memorizing the way her hair fell in total disarray all around her. No matter how much tossing and turning she did throughout the night, it still looked as becoming as hell.
Lucas took a deep breath, then crouched to shake her awake. He knew from experience that it would take at least five minutes—another ten if he waited for her to start speaking coherently. But it had been his decision to bring her along.
Funny. He wasn't a bit sorry.
"Another day, another hotel room,” Megan said, staring up at the sign for Gray's Hotel. “How long will we be staying?"
"As long as it takes.” She muttered the much-used line at the same time Lucas did.
"Are we Mr. and Mrs. Luke Campbell again?"
"Sure are, darlin ',” he said, taking her elbow. He guided her into the lobby past several curious onlookers peering at them from behind their newspapers.
"We'd like a room, please,” he said to the man behind the desk. The clerk asked him to sign the ledger and handed him the key.
"Will there be anything else, sir?"
Lucas spared Megan a glance, then nodded. “A bath for my wife would be
"I never asked you to,” he said, lying down beside her. “In fact, I never asked you for a damn thing. I think it's about time you remember that you're my prisoner. What I say goes. I don't need your opinion or your approval."
She remained silent for several long minutes, searching for a comfortable position. Lucas had his back to her, and though his breathing sounded deep and even, she knew he was still awake.
"My mother told me once that roses are the hardiest of all flowers.” She spoke softly, sure he could hear her in the dark silence, with only the campfire crackling at their feet. “In winter, snow and ice cover them, sometimes so brutally that you think nothing could possibly live for months under those conditions. Then spring comes, and the snow melts. And before you know it, tiny rosebuds appear. It seems like a miracle—until you realize that all they really needed was a little sunshine to melt the ice. It's like a never-ending promise from God. A promise of roses to bloom every spring.
"The ice will melt someday, Lucas. All you have to do is let a little sunshine into your heart."
Lucas rose before dawn the next morning, having gotten no more than a pinch of sleep here or there. Too many things plagued his mind, not the least of which was Megan's speech the previous night. Her words bothered him more than he wanted to admit. He found himself wondering if she was right, if he should try to put the past behind him and start over. And then he pictured Annie and Chad the way he'd found them that day. So much blood everywhere. He remembered the goading tone of Scott's note, and he knew he could never put things behind him until Scott was dead.
The hatred began once again to swirl through his body, making him ever more determined to see Silas Scott suffer for his crimes.
He had half a notion to leave Megan behind. He could drop her off in the next town and go on without her. She was becoming too much of a burden to him, knowing about his past, trying to change his mind about what he knew had to be done. And yet he didn't want to continue the journey alone. Or maybe it wasn't that he didn't want to be alone but that he didn't want to be without her .
Christ, she was driving him insane.
Despite his urgency to find Scott, he almost looked forward to bedding down these days—whether on the hard ground or in a comfortable hotel room—because he knew that sometime during the night Megan would roll onto her stomach and drape herself across his long body. And, damn, he liked that. He liked the way she felt, the way she smelled, the way she mumbled in her sleep.
He still grinned like a schoolboy whenever he remembered her admitting to having a brain disorder. A broken sieve, for Christ's sake! What would she come up with next?
He stared at her for a moment, memorizing the way her hair fell in total disarray all around her. No matter how much tossing and turning she did throughout the night, it still looked as becoming as hell.
Lucas took a deep breath, then crouched to shake her awake. He knew from experience that it would take at least five minutes—another ten if he waited for her to start speaking coherently. But it had been his decision to bring her along.
Funny. He wasn't a bit sorry.
"Another day, another hotel room,” Megan said, staring up at the sign for Gray's Hotel. “How long will we be staying?"
"As long as it takes.” She muttered the much-used line at the same time Lucas did.
"Are we Mr. and Mrs. Luke Campbell again?"
"Sure are, darlin ',” he said, taking her elbow. He guided her into the lobby past several curious onlookers peering at them from behind their newspapers.
"We'd like a room, please,” he said to the man behind the desk. The clerk asked him to sign the ledger and handed him the key.
"Will there be anything else, sir?"
Lucas spared Megan a glance, then nodded. “A bath for my wife would be
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