Page 14 of Nomad

Cann was on the verge of being embarrassed. He didn’t feel like a nice man. He felt like a wretched man.

“Now just stop that business right now. Everybody needs a hand up now and then. It’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal.” He waved her off by spreading the fingers on the hand that gripped the steering wheel. “What is Rides and Wrecks?”

“It’s an outfit my club owns. Makes custom vehicles for celebrities and rich people who need shiny toys.”

“Sons of Sanctuary?”

“Yeah.”

“What does nomad mean?”

Cann didn’t answer for a few minutes. “It means you got no home.”

“But I thought you were going home?”

“I am.”

“So you’re not going to be nomad anymore?”

“That’s right. I’m done.” He was done with being nomad and he was done talking about the subject. “Now about tonight. I can take you to a motel if you want to dive into some of that cash you’ve got in that thing you carry. But we’ve got a guest room at the club where you could stay if you want. Just for tonight. Nobody will bother you. Tomorrow morning we can fix you up with a ride and maybe you can find a job.” He looked for the headlights since they hadn’t come on automatically. “And a doctor.”

“A doctor.”

“Remember when I told you babies are work?” She nodded. “It starts now. You have to take vitamins and eat good and go to appointments to make sure everything is okay.”

“Okay,” she said softly, touched that he actually seemed to care what happened to a stranger and her baby.

It was around eight when they blew past the Austin city limits. Just before they reached the club compound, he realized that, for the first time in years, he’d spent several hours awake and not sad. But that revelation didn’t bring him either relief or satisfaction. It made him feel guilty, like he’d deliberately betrayed the memory of Molly and the baby.

When he pulled up to the SSMC gate, a voice on the box said, “Cann. That you?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Let me in.”

A kid came trotting over to open the gate. After they parked, Bud got her bag and followed Cann inside. What happened next was hardly the kind of homecoming he’d imagined.

There on the giant screen TV was a freeze-frame image of him with Bud at the bank in Barburnett. Several club members including Brant and Brash were standing and sitting around the bar, looking unhappy to say the least.

When Cann saw the image, he froze in his tracks and gaped. “What the…”

“You’re a wanted man,” said Brant with alarming calm. “Everybody’s looking for that little girl. After her picture had been plastered on the news, the bank at Barburnett called in a report that she was in the bank, probably under duress, with a shady character who’s a member of a motorcycle ‘gang’.”

Brant practically spit that word. He hated having his club referred to as a gang.

“Needless to say,” Brant continued, “you will not be staying long. But we’d like to enjoy your company long enough to find out what the fuck is going on.”

Cann turned to Bud. “Do you know anything about this?”

His stomach roiled when he saw that she looked sheepish. “My daddy may be abusing his office some.”

“His office? What does that mean?” Cann practically boomed.

Bud took a tentative step back and looked around the room anxiously. “He’s a Texas Ranger?”

“Jesus Christ!” Cann turned his back on her, ran a hand through his hair, and pulled on it in a way that looked painful. “You’ve brought the Rangers here?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t. I just got a ride.”

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