Free Stay by Julia Barrett, J. W. Manus, Winterheart Designs Page B

behind. Every twenty miles he had to fight the urge to turn the truck around and race back to her.
    Sydney Blake.
    I fell from the sky for you, Sydney Blake.
    Oh, he remembered saying those words all right. He knew to the depths of his immortal soul what he’d given up to come to her, but more than that, he knew what he’d sacrificed to save Cass Weber. He’d found the love of his life and lost her, only to find her all over again. And none of it made a lick of sense, except maybe the archangel’s warped sense of humor in sending him back as an infant.
    Those were Wolf’s thoughts and memories, not his.
    But they were his too.
    How the hell was he going to co-exist with Wolf? How would he live with eons of memories? Not the memories of one lifetime, not the memories of two, but ages and ages stretching into infinity.
    It was enough to drive a crazy man insane.
    He fished the chunk of gold from his pocket and held it in his palm, felt the warmth of it, the weight of it, the possibilities it represented.
    His mother would know. She had to know something.
    His life felt like a puzzle missing critical pieces. His mother could probably supply a few of them.
    But the others, what about the other pieces? What about his daughter, Sara? What about Nathan de Manua, her husband and Guardian? What about their daughter, his granddaughter? She must have been born by now.
    It was impossible. How was a plain old cowpoke from Nebraska supposed to accept the impossible?
    Lucas dropped the gold back into his pocket. Well, it was easier than denying it. Couldn’t stuff the demons back in once Pandora’s Box had been opened.
    He snorted. If history as he remembered it was a case in point, the lid never did fit well in the first place.

Stay

    is mother stepped in front of the backhoe, arms waving; mouth moving. From his perch high up in the cab, Lucas couldn’t hear a word she said.
    He brought the machine to a stop and turned off the engine.
    She called out to him again.
    “Huh? I can’t hear you, Mom.” He hopped down from the cab. “What did you say?”
    She put her hands on her hips and looked around. “You know, this road can wait. Your brothers can finish it up before winter.”
    He shook his head. “No, I want to get it done. These ruts are hazardous, especially when the road gets wet. I don’t like you driving on it in bad weather.”
    She took his arm. “Well, I appreciate it, I do, but you worry me, son. You haven’t stopped moving since the day you came back. You barely even sit still for a meal.”
    Lucas couldn’t stop. If he stopped he’d think.
    When he thought he thought about Sydney Blake.
    He wondered what she was doing. How big the baby was getting. If she had enough help to move the cows up to the high country. He wondered if she thought of him. If he invaded her dreams the way she did his every single night.
    Living away from Syd was pure torture, self-imposed torment.
    “There’s that look again.”
    “What look?”
    “You can’t fool me, Lucas. I’ve known you since the day you were conceived.”
    Her words got a smile out of him. He patted her hand. “I’m not trying to fool you, Mom.”
    She raised her eyebrows. “The hell you’re not. Anyway, you’ve got a visitor up at the house. That’s what I came to tell you.”
    A visitor? He felt like the proverbial rug had been pulled out from under him.
    What if something has happened to her?
    He’d never forgive himself. He’d left her all alone, abandoned her when things were getting tough. If anything happened to her or the baby it was on his head.
    Lucas stumbled forward, the toes of his boots catching in the dirt he’d piled up on the side of the road. If his mother hadn’t grabbed his arm, he would have fallen to his knees.
    “Lucas, whatever is the matter?”
    He struggled to find his voice. “Who is it? Who’s here?”
    “A gentleman from England.” His mother shot him an appraising look. “His name is Nathaniel Henry Neville, and