"He's my kin."

"That'll always be a mystery to me." Tucker threw out an arm when Cy started to move around him. "You just hold on, son. I'm not going to tell you twice." He could feel the air tremble between him and Cy. Not with fear; fear had a different rhythm. This was energy. The boy would have gotten a few good shots in, Tucker mused. Before Vernon broke him to pieces. "You're not laying another hand on him, Vernon."

"And who's going to stop me?"

The thought of having his face battered again made Tucker sigh. The last bruises had barely faded. "I reckon I am."

"And me." Sweaty and far from steady, Dwayne stepped beside his brother.

One by one, men moved out of the crowd and ranged themselves beside the Longstreets. Cy had been wrong-there were more than a few who would have come forward, and they did now. Black and white, forming a silent wall that spoke eloquently of justice.

Vernon flexed frustrated fists. "He can't hide all the time."

"He isn't hiding now," Tucker said. "I think he's proved that. He may be half your size, Vernon, but he's twice the man you are. And he's under my protection. Your mother signed a paper that makes it so. You'd best leave it alone."

"Whatever you paid her to sign him away, he's still my blood. You got too much of my blood on your hands."

Tucker stepped forward, lowering his voice so only Vernon could hear. "He's nothing to you. We both know it. Kinship's just an excuse you use to hurt and call it family business. There's nobody standing with you on this, Vernon. Nobody. Going after him's only going to make it hard for you around here. Your family's had enough grief."

"And you brought it on us." He leaned his face close to Tucker's. "This ain't over."

"I don't expect it is. But it's done for the night." Turning, Tucker walked through the line to where Caroline was dealing calmly with Cy's bloody nose. "I sure do love a carnival," he said. The squeeze he gave Cy's shoulder transmitted both approval and reassurance.

"I was going to fight him, Mr. Tucker."

"You did what you had to do."

Furious, Caroline balled bloody tissues in her hand. "Men. You always think the way to handle any problem is with your fists."

"And women like to talk them away." He winked at Cy, then pulled Caroline close for a quick kiss. "Now, personally, I prefer loving my way out of a problem. But it takes all kinds."

"Don't it just?" Josie strolled up, snapping her purse shut. She carried her pretty little pearl-handled derringer inside among her other necessities. Right now she was almost disappointed that she hadn't had cause to use it. She kept her back to Tucker, whom she'd yet to forgive. 'Cy, honey, you're going to be the talk of the annual Innocence Fourth of July Carnival." She kissed his cheek and made him blush. "You bleeding anywhere, Jim?"

"No, ma'am. I landed on my butt, is all." He was busy brushing himself off with hands that shook from excitement. "Me and Cy, we coulda took him."

"I'll just bet you could." Josie squeezed Jim's bicep and rolled her eyes appreciatively. "We got us a couple of strapping young boys here, Caroline. I wonder if I could impose on you two to accompany me to the lemonade stand? It seems my gentleman escort has deserted me for another woman." She nodded toward the Scrambler, where Teddy and Cousin Lulu where taking another round. "Men are such fickle creatures."

Jim puffed out his chest. "We'll go with you, Miss Josie. Won't we, Cy?"

"Is it all right, Mr. Tucker?"

"It's just fine." He passed a hand over Cy's hair, left it lie there a moment. "It is just fine, Cy."

Cy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I know it. I didn't run. I'm not running from him or anybody anymore."

Tucker let his hand slide off Cy's shoulder. He thought it was a pity that youth and its simplicity were so soon and permanently lost. "Running away and walking are two different things. Keeping clear of Vernon won't change what you did for yourself tonight. But it might keep your mama from any more grief. You think about that."

"I guess I will."

"Go on with Josie." He watched them walk away with some regret, and something colder, that was suspicion.

"I guess I'm going home," Dwayne said, narrowing his eyes against the spinning lights.

"You sober enough to find the house?" Tucker asked him.

"I haven't had much-and tossed up what I did." Dwayne offered a weak smile. "I never did have the head for those whirly rides."

"Or the stomach," Tucker agreed. "You get sick every blessed year."

"I don't like to mess with tradition. Delia and Cousin Lulu came with me, but I don't think they're ready to leave just yet."

"Caro and I'll get them home."

"That's fine, then. 'Night, Caroline." He sauntered off alone, moving beyond the lights and music and into the shadows. Tucker nearly called him back. It didn't seem right that his brother should look so lonely. Then Dwayne was gone, and the moment passed.

"Well…" Caroline tossed the bloody tissues into a trash basket. "You certainly show a woman an interesting evening."

"I do what I can." Hearing the strain in her voice, he slipped an arm around her. "You're upset?"

"Upset?" she countered. "You could say so. It upsets me to see that boy have to fight his own brother. He's lost two members of his family and is estranged from the rest of them just because he's different. It's hard to see him have to face those kinds of demands and pressures, those choices, when he's only half grown."

Tucker drew her around to face him. "Who are we talking about, Caro? You or Cy?"

"It has nothing to do with me."

"Maybe you're shifting things around. Looking at him and seeing yourself at his age, facing something you couldn't fight with your fists."

"I didn't fight at all."

"You took your stand later, and in a different way. That doesn't make it any harder when what you're standing against is family." He led her back a little, where they could stand and watch the lights and the colors and the knots of people. "You want to make it up with your mother."

"There's nothing-"

"You want to make it up," he said again with a quiet assurance in his voice that stopped her from arguing. "I know what I'm saying. I never settled things with my father. I never let him know what I thought or felt or wanted. I don't know if he'd have given a damn. And that's just it. I don't know because I never worked up the gumption to say it all to his face."

"She knows how I feel."

"So you start from there. On your terms. I don't like to see you sad, Caroline. And I know what kind of pull family brings."

"I'll think about it." She tilted her head back to study him. He was looking beyond the midway, into the lights. There was something in his eyes that had her moving closer. "What are you thinking about?"

"Family," he murmured. "And what runs through the blood." Deliberately, he smiled, but that glint in his eye remained. "Let's go check out that Ferris wheel."

Tucker pulled her back into the crowd and the noise. But he was thinking. If Austin had been capable of murder, perhaps Austin's son was equally capable.

The sins of the father, he mused. It was a quotation that would have suited Austin down to the ground. Perhaps Vernon carried that same violent and twisted gene.

As the Ferris wheel began its slow backward arch, Tucker draped an arm around Caroline's shoulders.

He was sure of one thing. Among the laughter and lights of the carnival, a murderer hunted.