Chapter 9

Morgan looked at Vin. He brushed her hair back from her face and Morgan closed her eyes at the light touch. Closing her eyes made her more aware of how her legs were tangled with his, her skin against his.

She wanted to thank him. For not questioning her. For not arguing, telling her she was making a mistake. For being there.

His other hand rested on her back, his palm rough and warm against her bare skin.

"You good?" Vin asked quietly.

Morgan nodded. She opened her eyes and saw him watching her, worry a strange mix with contentment in his blue eyes.

Morgan swallowed hard and rolled away from him, pulling the sheet with her.

Vin leaned back into the down pillows. He moved a hand toward Morgan. When she didn't say anything, he ran his hand over her shoulder, before letting it rest there, his thumb tracing lazy circles on her arm.

Morgan watched him close his eyes. He seemed like a really good guy. He had been gentle with her, he hadn't been intimidating, and he had somehow lit a spark that had flamed to life while she was in bed with him that she didn't think she could have after her assault.

And he was her husband. They'd be leaving this bed and breakfast room at some point and facing the real world. She stared up at the ceiling, his hand on her a steady presence.

She should tell him the rest. He deserved to know. Her stomach twisted, the ever present anxiety she had been trying to keep at bay with constant movement, shoving it away so she didn't feel it, returning.

"I'm pregnant," she announced, keeping her eyes on the ceiling, noticing a thin fissure that looked like the coast of California running across it. It was the first time she had said the words out loud and she tried not to think of what they actually meant.

The hand on her shoulder stilled, then moved away. Morgan steeled herself against the loss of that presence.

The mattress shifted as Vin sat up. "You…what?"

Morgan hadn't really planned to tell him. She hadn't planned to tell anyone. Sam didn't even know. Morgan closed her eyes.

"How can you…already? How do you know already?"

Morgan opened her eyes and turned to see Vin sitting in the bed, bewilderment given him a stricken look.

"It's not yours," Morgan said, surprise at Vin's assumption making her words harsher than she intended. She started to sit up, grabbing at the sheet to keep herself covered. She slid out of the bed, clutching the sheet to her. It was silky soft against her, compared to Vin's calloused hands. She shook the thought from her head, not sure where it had come from.

Vin got out the other side of the bed, taking the blanket with him and wrapping it around his waist.

Morgan expected to him to look relieved, instead he looked more distressed. "From what happened to you? What that guy did to you?" he asked.

Morgan set her jaw and looked away, not answering. Vin knew enough to put the pieces together. She was aware of Vin staring at her. She pretended she didn't care.

Then she heard movement, was aware of him pulling on his boxers and crossing over to her, the blanket abandoned on the floor.

She stiffened when he touched her arm.

"That why you needed to get married?" he asked.

"It's why I needed to get out of Denver. Away from everyone. Away from my brother." She hadn't wanted to think of how Buck would react if she told him she was pregnant. If he asked who was the father and then she had to tell him what had happened. She clenched her jaw tighter to fight the trembling that threatened.

"Ok."

Morgan looked at him sharply. He stood in front of her, meeting her eyes. She didn't know what that was supposed to mean and it must have shown in her face because Vin spoke again.

"We'll figure this out," he said. "Don't know how, but we will."

It wasn't anything Sam hadn't said to her after Morgan had told her what had happened. But Vin said it quietly. He clearly didn't have any more of an idea of what they were doing than Morgan did, but he was willing to stay with her and figure it out. She wasn't going to have to hold onto this secret alone anymore.

Morgan's knees started to buckle, the weight of the past three months finally too heavy.

"Whoa, easy," Vin said, moving quickly to get his hands under her elbows. He caught her easily and moved her toward the bed, getting her sitting before she fell. He made sure she was steady in her seated position before reaching down to the floor to grab his t-shirt and hand it to her.

Morgan took it, slipping it on, her hands trembling, her entire body shaking.

"I mean it," Vin said, kneeling down in front of her so their eyes were closer to level. "Every word I said this morning in the chapel, I meant it. I don't got nobody but you. And we're in this together."

Morgan couldn't manage a nod, couldn't do anything but sit there and shiver.

"You ain't slept in more than a day," Vin said, concern in his voice. He took the sheet Morgan no longer gripped and set it aside. "You need to sleep."

Morgan didn't argue. The fight had drained out of her with her confession. Vin didn't seem to waver. He waited until she laid down and put the sheet over her, going to the other side to get the blanket and cover her with that, too.

He settled back into the bed and Morgan told herself there was no way she was going to sleep. It had been months since she had managed to actually sleep without waking up gasping for breath.

Vin reached over and pulled her gently to him, one arm around her, loose enough to keep Morgan from feeling trapped.

She listened to the regular rhythm of his heartbeat, felt it against her cheek. As she laid there, her own heart slowed to match the pace of his. Her limbs grew heavy with fatigue, tired of running. Her breathing slowed. She still didn't feel like she could draw in a full breath, but she didn't feel like she was gasping for air. Her eyes start to fall closed under the weight of exhaustion.

#

"No way," Sam said.

Ezra held her gaze.

"There's no way," Sam said, tossing her hair back over her shoulder.

"Count it up," Ezra said.

Sam tossed her cards aside and pulled her pile of cash toward herself. She started to count the bills while Ezra did the same.

"$4,321," Ezra said.

Sam counted out her last dollars. "$4, 438," she said, not bothering to hold back a smirk.

Ezra narrowed his eyes at her.

"I told you I would beat you in poker. Just like I beat you in pool."

Ezra reached over to the nightstand and tucked his money into his wallet. "Next time we find a dart board. And I'll try not to gloat when I win all your money."

Sam stuck her wad of cash into her jacket pocket. "I'll definitely gloat when I win," she said.

She got off the mattress, stretching her arms overhead. Her t-shirt hem lifted slightly and she saw Ezra watching before he quickly looked away and grabbed his wallet. She watched him. He could act like the hardened pool hustler all he wanted, but Sam suspected it was an act.

"I'll go get some food," he said.

"You sure you don't want me to pay?" Sam asked.

"Oh you'll pay," Ezra promised, but the glint of humor in his eye made Sam grin. She was surprised at how much she wanted there to be a next time with Ezra.

"Do you have any requests?" Ezra asked.

"I'm starvin'," Sam said. "Don't bring back a salad."

Ezra did smile then. "Noted."

He picked up the key card and added that to his jeans pockets before heading out the door.

Sam was left alone in the room. The sudden silence was deafening. She looked around her. She wondered where Morgan was. If Morgan was ok.

She took a deep breath. Morgan was smart and capable. Sam couldn't imagine going through what Morgan had and still be standing, let alone keeping that self assured smirk that was guaranteed to annoy Buck and Chris to no end.

She would find Morgan soon enough and be able to reassure herself that Morgan really was ok, she just had to remind herself of that. If it was Chris with Morgan, he wouldn't sit around moping with worry about anyone. He would do what needed to be done.

Sam ran a hand through her hair, feeling what a mess it was. A shower and washing her hair. That's what needed to be done for now.

#

Chris didn't let himself think of all the motel doors he and Buck had already knocked on. And he didn't let himself think of how many more there still were. They were on the third motel.

"Chris," Buck said, heading his direction.

Chris paused before he knocked on yet another door.

Buck glanced around and then showed Chris what he held in his hand. A key card. Chris raised his eyebrows. "Better be two beds if you got us a room," Chris said drily.

"Got it off the housekeeping cart," Buck said. "We can check the rooms that don't answer."

Chris ignored whatever moral or legal questions that might raise and nodded. They needed to find the girls. Now. There was no time for debating how far outside the legal realm they may be straying.

Chris knocked on the door, heard the unfamiliar voice answer and waited for the woman to answer the door. He and Buck apologized, yet again, for having the wrong room and moved to the next door.

The key card came in handy by the fourth door. But that room was vacant, clearly occupied by a family judging by the toddler size pajamas and stuffed animals. They cleared the main level and moved up the outside stairs.

Down the row of doors, a man opened a door. The way he moved was familiar. It had been dark in the bar, but Chris had thought it was a gray button up and jeans the man had been wearing who had gone out the door of the bar with Sam. This man was wearing a gray shirt and jean. He entered one of the rooms.

"Buck," Chris said, keeping an eye on the door that had closed behind the man.

Buck followed Chris' eyes to the closed door.

"Let's go," Chris said, not looking away.

#

Ezra opened the door and returned to the room, his phone still on the bedside table. He needed to check his messages before he grabbed food for him and—

Sam.

Ezra froze. The door swung closed behind him.

Sam stood in front of him, eyes wide, nothing but a towel wrapped around her, the bathroom door open with water running in the shower behind her.

"What are you doing back?" Sam demanded, her hands moving to adjust the towel more securely around her.

Ezra stared, her shifting the towel higher drawing his eyes to her legs, then her tugging at the hem pulling the terrycloth down and bringing Ezra's eyes up to the skin it revealed on top.

"You want to look at my eyes?"

Sam's sardonic tone snapped Ezra out of whatever trance he had been in. "I—I—" he shook himself slightly and met her eyes. He saw a hint of caution there in spite of her sarcasm. He immediately regretted his lapse in control. He could only imagine what she thought of him, stepping into the room unexpectedly with her ready to get into the shower.

"My phone," Ezra finally managed. He looked away from Sam and crossed to the nightstand. He cleared his throat. "I forgot my phone."

Sam kept her grip on her towel and watched him cross the small room. She didn't say anything and the muted steps of his shoes on the worn carpet was the only sound in the room.

Ezra was nearly to the table when the door to the room burst open.

Sam let out a small shriek and jumped back, and Ezra instinctively moved toward her.

"What the hell?"

The voice was familiar and stopped Ezra, bringing his full attention.

"Chris?" Sam asked. "Buck?"

Ezra held his hands up and backed up a step as the two Denver cops approached. "Officer Wilmington," he greeted Buck. "Sargent Larabee." He gave them each a cordial nod.

He kept his expression neutral, even as his heart thudded at the look on Chris Larabee's face. His feet shuffled backward a step seeing the fury and rage in the hard planes.

"Ezra," Buck growled. He glanced away from Ezra long enough to look at Sam, the man clearly distressed with what he was seeing, her still wrapped in nothing but the undersized motel towel and alone with Ezra. Ezra winced. Chris didn't speak immediately, his eyes glinting dangerously.

"What's going on here?" Buck asked.

"Buck—" Sam started, and it drew her brother's attention.

Chris whirled on Sam, apparently deciding Ezra wasn't worth his attention. "Him?" he asked. "You're doing this with him?"

"We're not doing anything!"

"Nothing happened," Ezra said the same time as Sam protested the assumption.

"How many guys are there in Denver?" Chris asked, his voice hardly calm. "And you find this lyin', cheatin' con artist?"

"I don't cheat," Ezra protested, then held his hands up in surrender when Chris fixed him with a hard look again.

"Where's Morgan?" Buck demanded, his attention back on Ezra.

Ezra shook his head. "I have no idea."

Buck's face darkened. "No idea?" he echoed, his voice raising.

"She's not here," Sam said and Ezra could hear the staunch loyalty to her friend.

Buck and Chris both swung their heads back to Sam and Ezra took advantage of the space to draw in a deep breath.

"Get dressed," Chris ordered in a dangerously low voice.

Sam didn't look cowed by her brother's anger, something that Ezra found impressive. But she did duck back into the bathroom and close the door.

As soon as Sam was sealed in the bathroom, both men took steps toward Ezra.

"Miss Larabee and I were simply resting up before we returned to Denver," Ezra said. He glanced at the men's clothing, trying to judge if either one had a concealed weapon.

"You want to tell me what exactly you're doin' in Wyoming with my sister to begin with?" Chris asked. This time the police sargent did approach Ezra, getting nearly toe to toe with him.

Ezra swallowed hard. He opted for silence. He was acutely aware that he most likely smelled like stale beer and smoke, something that wouldn't help his cause.

"When we get back to Denver, I'm gonna make sure I find every single thing you've ever done wrong and a judge who will throw the book at you."

Ezra looked towards Buck, knowing Wilmington was usually more patient with him in their encounters when Ezra shared information in exchange for money and a blind eye towards his less than legal dealings. But this wasn't the amiable officer Ezra worked with. Buck's eyes were hard.

The bathroom door opened and Sam came out, fully clothed, if a bit rumpled. Her hair was definitely tousled as if she and Ezra had been doing something before her brother barged in. Ezra had a sinking feeling that wasn't helping matters. She pushed her way between Chris and Buck. "Ezra didn't do anything," she said.

Neither man moved.

Sam shoved them harder and finally Chris looked at her. "It was all me and Morgan," she said. "Ezra was just in the car when Morgan started driving."

Ezra knew full well it wasn't quite that simple and he didn't miss that Sam left out the pool game, gambling, and both his and her part in the brawl. He started to give her a wink, but stopped when Buck fixed him with a look.

"Where. Is. Morgan?" Buck asked, each word bit off painfully slowly in a bid for control that Ezra feared he might be losing.

"I have no idea," Ezra said again.

Buck narrowed his eyes at Ezra before turning to Sam.

"Samantha," he said. "I know you and Morgan. Ain't no way she's runnin' around with you havin' no idea what she's up to."

Sam set her jaw. She squared her shoulders. She didn't say anything. Once again, Ezra found himself admiring her grit and her commitment to her friend.

"Fine," Chris bit out. "You can come with us while we find her." He headed toward the door and wrenched it open, holding it for Sam. When Ezra didn't follow he grit his teeth, clearly fighting for control.

"You, too, Standish."

Ezra started to decline, but Buck put a firm hand on shoulder, a vise grip on the muscle there. "It wasn't a suggestion, Ezra," Buck said.

Ezra got his phone off the nightstand and put it in his pocket. On his way past the table near the door, he impulsively picked up the deck of cards he and Sam had used and pocketed those, too, not sure why he wanted the souvenir.

He allowed the cops to escort him and Sam to their waiting truck. He could only hope that he was able to get free before the men found out what Morgan had done. He definitely was hoping that Morgan and her paramour would be more fully clothed than Sam was. He was fairly certain both Buck and Chris had guns on them. The way both men slammed their doors shut when they got in the truck had Ezra debating making a run for it right then.

Then he looked at the tension on Sam's face. The way her hands were tightly fisted and she stared straight ahead.

Maybe he would stay with Sam long enough to make sure she wasn't alone to deal with Buck and Chris whenever they found Morgan.

Sam looked over at him and Ezra lifted one side of his mouth in a wry smile. "It beats jail," he commented.

Sam snorted lightly. "Just wait," she said, turning her eyes forward again and tensing when Chris started the truck.

#