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into the restaurant’s parking lot. “Looks like we missed the lunch crowd.” He parked, and they entered the building. After ordering, they made their way out the back door to a picnic table on the deck. They sat in silence for a few minutes, soaking up the sun, until David went back inside to pick up their order. He returned with beers, sandwiches, and a bottle of water.

Charlotte twisted the cap off the water bottle and took a long drink.

“Now, the beer,” David said.

“I can’t.” She spoke softly, her shoulders trembling. “I may be pregnant.”

David set down his bottle of Kentucky Ale and peered over his aviators. “Ye’re a doctor and don’t know for sure?”

“I haven’t taken a pregnancy test. I’m several days late, but I’ve also been through hell and back the last six weeks.”

“Six weeks? How about six months.” He tipped his bottle and finished off the ale. “Ye still have a shell-shocked look about ye.”

“Well, thanks.”

“We’ll stop at the drug store on the way back to the farm. Ye should know what’s going on in yer body. Ye’re a brave—”

She shook her head several times, huffing softly. “No, I’m not brave. I even have to talk myself into running a stoplight late at night, even when there’s no traffic on the road. And then only when I’m going in to take care of a medical emergency. I lead a safe life, and I don’t take risks. The damn brooch has brought nothing but trouble, and after I get Jack back, I don’t ever want to see either one of those things again. It may have been a cakewalk for Kit, but the sapphire has only brought me hell and heartache.”

There was a small barbed edge to his voice when he said, “Kit spent six months crossing the Oregon Trail in a covered wagon with bad food and burned coffee. She fought a cholera epidemic, killed three men, saw her husband get shot, and barely escaped being raped, and those are the highlights. I wouldn’t say she had an easy time of it.”

“I’m sorry. It was insensitive of me to assume it.” Charlotte shoved a hand through her hair and snagged her fingers in tangled, windblown curls. “Damn. Should have worn a hat.”

David snatched off the MacKlenna ball cap he had plopped on his head when he parked the Z4, hooked it onto her head, and tugged on the bill to set the hat in place. “Now ye’ve got one. Let’s go.”

“You know, if I’m pregnant, the baby will be Kit’s cousin.”

“Not sure how ye’d explain it to a wee laddie.”

“Me either, but when he or she grows up, I’ll try.”

“Either do it, or don’t do it, Charley. There is no trying—ever.”

David tossed their trash and recyclables into the proper containers, moving about the deck naturally. Only the tension in his shoulders suggested he was under any heightened level of emotion. He paused at the edge of the deck, his chest rising and falling as he breathed in cool air. It was early in the afternoon, and the rays of sun were beginning to shift, slanting down through the trees in the fencerow on the west side of the property. The bright light glowed on his brown hair, highlighting pinpoints of yellow, as if the wind had sprinkled his head with gold dust.

Charlotte joined him next to the stairs leading to the parking lot, tipping her head back to let the rays of sun bathe her cheeks with warmth. She wasn’t in a hurry to leave the restaurant and drive to their next stop—a drug store. Being pregnant now wasn’t convenient, but she had wanted Braham to be the father of her child. At the moment, though, she wasn’t so sure.

“I asked one of the researchers today if she had seen Braham’s name mentioned anywhere in the trial transcript. She said no.” Charlotte tugged on the bill of the ball cap, trying to put into words the thoughts pressing on her heart. “What could have happened to him? Why didn’t…” Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat, trying to regain composure. “Why didn’t he help Jack?”

“My Internet searches haven’t turned up any information either,” David said in a tone indicating mild frustration. “After everything ye’ve said about him, I’m surprised. And I’m rarely surprised about anything.”

“I know he was leaving town the day we left Washington, but surely he would have returned.” She gripped the railing, turning her knuckles white as she desperately tried to hold the tears at bay, so afraid once they started she wouldn’t be able to stop. “I thought he cared about Jack. I thought he cared about me. But I must have been wrong.”

“Whatever he did after the war, Braham didn’t distinguish himself in any way.”

“He had a law practice to return to, and his winery. I wonder if he never made it back to California.”

“I’ve got people looking. They may turn up something, or it’s also possible maybe…he didn’t survive his last assignment.”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense, but the war was over. So if he died, it must have been from an accident or disease. Edward, his butler, will know where he is and what happened to him. If he’s alive and well, I’m not sure how I’ll react to seeing him.”

“If ye’re pregnant, he’s the father, and he deserves to know about the baby.”

“Then I hope I’m not pregnant. I don’t want a child by a man who would abandon my brother.”

“Don’t give up on Braham. He might not have represented Jack, but he might have helped in other ways. We’ll find out when we get there.”

Yes, they would find out, and if she was pregnant, she didn’t intend to tell him. Nor would she allow the pregnancy to overshadow Jack’s situation. She went down the stairs, clutching her brow. She must have moaned, for David reached her quickly and cupped her elbow, supporting her weight.

“What is it, lass?”

“Besides Braham’s betrayal?” The tears flowed freely now. “Everything.” She

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