The doctor shrugged. “I admit, that judge probably saved my life.” His expression became filled with mock outrage. The accent thickened. “But I still say it ain’t armed robbery when the dumb kid drops the gun on the way into the liquor store and gets caught running five blocks away. Hell, who knows? Maybe he was just looking for its rightful owner. Not realizing, the poor cherub, that it was a stolen piece.”
Mike burst into laughter. When his eyes met those of Nichols again, the silent exchange between them was warm and approving. The way two men, meeting for the first time, occasionally take an instant liking to each other.
Mike glanced toward his new in-laws. He was not surprised to see that his riotous gaiety had drawn their disapproving eyes. He met their stern frowns with a smile whose politeness barely covered the underlying mockery.
Yeah, that’s right, you rich farts. Two scapegraces, right before your eyes. As close to outright ex-cons as you can get. Heavens!
Nichols’ voice broke into Mike’s silent test of wills with the Simpsons.
“So you’re the famous brother,” the doctor murmured.
Startled, Mike’s eyes left the Simpsons. “I wasn’t aware that I was famous,” he protested.
Nichols shrugged, smiling. “Depends on the circle, I imagine. From what I can tell, listening to them gabble over the last couple of days, every one of your sister’s college friends has a crush on you. You’re quite a romantic figure, you know.”
Again, Mike was startled. And, again, it must have showed on his face.
“Oh, come on, Mike!” snorted Nichols. “You’re still in your mid-thirties, and look younger than that. Tall, handsome—well, handsome enough. But, most of all, you’ve got that glamorous history.”
“Glamorous?” choked Mike. “Are you nuts?”
Nichols was grinning, now. “Give me a break. You can’t fool me.” He made a little sweeping gesture with his hands, indicating himself. “What do you see here? A very prosperous-looking black man in his mid-fifties, right?” His dark eyes glinted with humor and knowledge. “And what else?”
Mike eyed him. “A—let’s call it a history. You weren’t always a proper doctor.”
“Certainly wasn’t! And don’t think, when I was your age, that I didn’t take full advantage of it.” Nichols’ wide grin changed to a gentle smile. “You’re a classic, Mike. It’s that old tale which always tugs at sentiment. The reckless and dashing black sheep of the family, leaving town before the law could nail him. An adventurous lad. Soldier, longshoreman, truck driver, professional boxer. Disreputable roustabout, even if he did manage to tuck away three years in college. Then—”
The smile faded away completely. “And then, when your father was crippled, you came back to take care of your family. And did as good a job of that as you’d done scaring them to death earlier. Quite respectable, now. Even managed to get yourself elected president of your local miners’ union a couple of years back.”
Mike snorted. “I can see Rita’s been telling tales.” He started looking for his sister, ready to glare at her, when his eyes fell on the Simpsons. They were still frowning at him, so he bestowed the glare on them.
“See?” he demanded. “My new in-laws don’t seem to feel any ‘romantic attraction.’ Me—respectable? Ha!”
Nichols’ own gaze followed Mike’s. “Well . . . ‘Respectable’ in an Appalachian sort of way. Don’t think Mr. Blueblood over there is mollified that his new daughter-in-law’s brother is a stone-hard union man as well as a damned hillbilly. Not hardly.”
The Simpsons were still maintaining the stare. Mike was matching it, and adding a grin to the bargain. The grin was purely feral. A sheer, brazen, unyielding challenge.
* * *
Nichols would remember that savage grin, in the years to come. Remember it, and be thankful.
The Ring of Fire came, and they entered a new and very savage world.
Chapter 2
The flash was almost blinding. For an instant, the room seemed filled by sunlight. The accompanying thunder rattled the windows.
Mike ducked, hunched. James Nichols’ reaction was more dramatic. “Incoming!” he yelped, flinging himself to the floor and covering his head with his arms. He seemed utterly oblivious to any possible damage to his expensive suit.