Charlotte, who sat before her vanity while Jacinda worked on her hair, could hardly blame Mother for her concern. She well remembered how shocked and outraged she’d been when she first arrived in Wyldhaven.
“Don’t worry, Mother. I’ve been collecting money for boardwalks and that will give us a good start on rebuilding the church. And Reagan has decided that this time when he rebuilds the jailhouse, he’s going to do it out of river rock.”
“This time?” Mother’s shocked exclamation barely rose above a whisper.
Charlotte nodded, angling her head so Jacinda could remove the last paper curler that she’d slept in the night before. “Yes, so if anything like this happens in the future it will be much harder for someone to break out of the jail.”
“Oh dear.” Mother sank onto the settee by the window.
Charlotte met Jacinda’s gaze in the mirror. “Was I that bad?” she mouthed.
Jacinda’s eyes widened and she nodded emphatically.
Charlotte rolled her eyes at the petite woman who would be her mother-in-law, but was already a friend. She needed to distract Mother from her worries or they were going to have to run for the smelling salts. “Mother? Why don’t you go down and see if you can find Father? He might need help with his…tie.”
“Yes. Of course. That’s a good idea. I’ll do that.” She scurried from the room, but not before she parted the curtains once more and tossed one last glance toward the jailhouse. On her way from the room she murmured, “Lord, preserve us.”
Charlotte inhaled a lungful of quiet and eased it out on a long slow exhale. Today she would become Mrs. Reagan Callahan. How lucky could one woman get?
Jacinda squeezed her shoulders. “Very lucky.”
Charlotte met her gaze again. “Did I say that out loud?”
Jacinda smiled. “You did. Now up with you. We have to get you into your dress. It’s almost time. Zane will be here to pick you up at any moment.”
Charlotte couldn’t stop herself from jumping in a few circles. “I’m so excited.”
Jacinda chuckled. “So I see. Now into the dress.”
“Yes, Mama.” Charlotte batted her eyes at the woman, who promptly pulled her into an embrace.
“You can call me that anytime. Just don’t let your own mother hear it until she’s had some time to adjust to your new status.”
From outside, they heard the creak of wagon wheels.
Both their eyes widened and Charlotte hurried to the dress that waited for her in the corner. “We’d better hustle. Reagan doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
“That is certain.” Jacinda’s fingers worked swiftly, first to tie the waist of the hoop-slip and then with the silk ribbon that laced up the entire back of Charlotte’s dress.
Jacinda squeezed Charlotte’s shoulders as she settled the silk shawl trimmed in beads around her and pinned it at the front with the diamond brooch Father had presented to her as a wedding present. “My, you look like a dream!”
Zane waited for them on the front porch. His gaze skimmed over Charlotte and he smiled. “Good thing this town has more than one lawman. I have a feeling our head honcho is about to have trouble breathing, the moment he lays eyes on you.” His gaze swept past her to Jacinda who was just pulling her own dusty-blue organza shawl around her shoulders. “Kinda like I am right now.” He swallowed.
Charlotte stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Zane’s cheek, drawing his attention back to her.
“What was that for?”
She grinned up at him and whispered. “We’ll be happy to welcome you to the family, Papa, when you finally get up the courage to ask her.”
Zane’s focus darted back to Jacinda for the briefest of seconds. He swallowed, stretched his neck, and slipped one finger beneath his collar. “Best we get you loaded up. Reagan doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Charlotte chuckled.
Zane helped Charlotte onto the back seat of the wagon, then he helped Jacinda up beside Liora, and Etta and Bertrand into the back next to their daughter. “Right,” he said as he climbed up to the front bench and took up the reins. “We’re off.”
Both Charlotte and Liora gasped as Zane drove the wagon past the mercantile and turned the corner to take the block toward the church. Both of them had resigned themselves to outdoor weddings with a burnt church as the backdrop, but it appeared that the town of Wyldhaven had other ideas.
A large white tent had been pitched on the lawn, and swags of greenery draped elegantly on either side of the tied-back doorway.
Zane helped them both from the front seat and extended an elbow to each of them. “Ladies, shall we?”
Liora did her best not to tremble as she walked toward the tent.
When they stepped into the back of the tent, both of them drew in breaths of awe. Several benches that still had a new-wood shine lined both sides of a center aisle. All along the aisle, buckets of sunflowers and evergreen branches lined the way. At the front of the tent, two tables on either side of a newly constructed pulpit held tiers of candles that filled the area with a golden glow. The men of the town had even transferred Ewan’s Alehouse piano to the front and Rose Pottinger sat before it on a bench.
Both Joe and Reagan waited off to one side, hands clasped behind their backs, impatiently rising on their toes every once in a while.
Charlotte met Reagan’s gaze with a grin of excitement. He tossed her a wink.
Liora felt all her nerves suddenly come to life. Everything inside her trembled as she looked at Joe. Her rescuer. Her friend. Her confidant. Her first and only love. A soft smile played over his lips and his brows pumped. If propriety would have allowed it, Liora would have run down the aisle to him right then and there.
Zane gave Rose a nod and she started to play a soft melody. Jacinda led the way to the front, followed by Etta. Each of them took a seat on the front bench of each side. Dixie and Rory went next, and Liora grinned to see Parson Clay fiddling with his collar and seemingly unable to tear his eyes off of Rory. She did look lovely and petite and fairy-like in the gauzy moss-green gown that heightened the color of her eyes to perfection. Jacinda joined Dixie and Aurora once they reached the front, and then every eye in the room turned to fix on the two brides.
Rose broke into a more exuberant song, and Bertrand stepped up beside Charlotte to offer her his arm.
It was only then that Liora realized her lack. She felt it as surely as she would have felt a knife to the ribs. She had no father to walk her down the aisle. Joe immediately noticed too and started toward her, but Zane waved him back.
As Charlotte and her father started down the aisle, Zane offered Liora his arm and bent to speak in her ear. “I’d be honored to escort you to your husband, if you’ll allow me, Miss Liora?”
Liora slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, feeling a wash of thankfulness toward him. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Liora couldn’t take her eyes off of Joe after that. The ceremony was a bit of a blur. Reagan and Charlotte stood on one side of the pulpit, and Liora and Joe took the other. But from the moment Joe wrapped her hands in his, everything else seemed to fade away. His palms were warm against hers. His soft brown eyes, taking her in from head to toe, were home. A home she never wanted to part from again.
None of the pomp and circumstance mattered. All that mattered was this man, this miracle that God had given her.
This beauty that God had rendered from her ashes.
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EXCERPT
Jacinda Callahan st
ood next to Marshal Zane Holloway on the train depot platform with a smile fixed on her face as she waved goodbye to her son, Reagan, and his wife Charlotte. Their train had been late. But it hadn’t dampened their enthusiasm. They had boarded only a few minutes ago and were even now grinning at her from behind the grimy window of their boxcar.
“Goodbye! Have a lovely time! Don’t worry about a thing!” Jacinda blew a few kisses their way, truly hoping Reagan would be able to leave the pressures and concerns of his job as sheriff behind.
Charlotte flapped her hanky in response and literally bounced up and down from what Jacinda could see through the dingy glass.
Jacinda saw Reagan say something to Charlotte and they both laughed, then leaned close to relish in a lingering kiss.
Jacinda kept her smile in place, but as the train belched a column of steam and chuffed a slow exit, she couldn’t keep up pretenses any longer.
Her shoulders slumped as she watched the train shrink into a small speck on the horizon.
Lord, keep them safe. Bring them back to me all in one piece.
Something tightened in her chest. What would she do if something happened to them? And there were certainly any number of things that could happen!
There were outlaws and gangsters and train robbers. Murderers and thieves.
And that was just the beginning of the list!
Not to mention that Reagan and Charlotte were headed right into the heart of godless San Francisco. Oh, why had she ever agreed with them that this trip was a good idea?
When they’d gotten married late last year, they’d planned to take a wedding trip within a couple weeks of the ceremony—after Charlotte’s parents returned to Boston. However, one delay had led to another and now here it was early March and they were just setting off.
Jacinda would have preferred if they’d never gotten around to the trip.
Beside her, Zane cleared his throat. “Ready to head back? Or shall we stand here staring at the tracks until they return next month?”
Jacinda gave him a deprecating look. She’d almost forgotten that he was beside her. Almost. But not quite. Because it was nearly impossible to forget about the handsome Zane Holloway, even if he was only a friend.
She looked down and fiddled with the lace at her cuffs, willing herself not to give in to the tears that suddenly begged for release. “Yes. I suppose we should get going. It will already be near dark by the time we arrive back in Wyldhaven. I wouldn’t want us to be caught out on the road after dark, especially since that new gang of outlaws has been raising such a ruckus in the area.” Her heart rate increased merely at the thought. “I’m just not certain it’s a good time for Reagan to be away. On the other hand, maybe it’s the best time for him to be away—for his own protection. With the new bank being built in town…”
Zane settled a hand at her back and gave her a nudge down the platform. At the same time, he gave her a sympathetic look that was almost her undoing.
The look told her to buck up, but it also said she could confide in him.
Was there any other man who could say so much without speaking a word? She felt thankful that he’d come with her, because he was such a good listener and she really needed someone to spill her concerns to.
Jacinda stepped out at a smart pace. “Of course, I’m not doubting that you and Joe can protect Wyldhaven, you understand? But do you think the outlaws might try something?”
Zane’s only answer was a bit of a squint around his eyes and the uptick of one corner of his mouth.
Jacinda released a huff. “I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to say that I shouldn’t worry. That I should trust that the good Lord has good plans for everyone. Even better plans than I could ever hope for.”
She glanced over her shoulder.
Zane said not a word, but there was a glint of humor in his blue-gray eyes as he followed in her wake.
“The problem is—”
“Mind the steps,” Zane said.
Jacinda faced forward, lifted her skirts and took the stairs down to the flat area. Then she turned to look at him again. There was something comforting about the man’s soulful eyes. “The problem is that one can never know if God is done with a person on this earth. I understand that—”
“Look out for the wagon.”
Jacinda spun just in time to avoid crashing into the tailgate of a farm wagon.
With that hurdle cleared, she twisted to face Zane again, but before she could resume her speech, he lifted a hand.
“I think things will be safer if you come here.” He reached out and wrapped the warmth of his fingers around her own, then tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. He glanced down at her with a smile. “Now…you were saying?”
But the impact of that smile, combined with the knee-weakening assault of his long-lashed blue eyes, knocked Jacinda’s thoughts six ways from Sunday.
She pressed her lips together. Tore her attention to the path before them. “It doesn’t matter, I suppose.”
Zane rubbed the back of her hand where it rested on his arm. “Matters to me.”
She swallowed. And how well she knew it. His affection for her was part of her current barrage of worry. Always in the past, she’d been able to put off his attentions with excuses of being busy helping Charlotte or Reagan with this or that. But now that they were going to be out of town for a month, what excuse was she going to offer?
She gave a flap of her free hand and then settled it over the crimp in her middle. “I know it does. And I appreciate that. You’ve been a good friend, Zane.” She layered a little extra emphasis onto the word “friend,” hoping he would hear it.
Needing him to hear it. Because, heaven help her, the man was a temptation. She’d known from the moment he walked into her dining room just over two years ago now, asking for information about a couple of murderers he was tracking, that if ever there was a man who could make her forget her promise never to love again, it would be Zane Holloway.
After she’d lost Wade to that outlaw’s bullet, she never wanted to go through the pain of something like that again! It was better not to love at all, and certainly loving another lawman was out of the question! So far out of the question that it shouldn’t even be a consideration.
The last time Parson Clay had preached about worry, he’d said it was a sin because it was a lack of trust in God.
Jacinda would be the first to agree with that. But how did one get back to a place of trusting a Being who’d had the power to save the man she loved, but had chosen not to do so?
She only realized they had reached their wagon when Zane stopped next to it. “Oh, and here we are.” She forced a smile and made to climb aboard, but Zane’s hand on her arm stopped her.
“You know you don’t have to pretend to be strong with me, right?”
Jacinda blinked at him. Something inside her curled up a little.
“Pretend?” Did he think she was weak?
Zane grimaced. “I didn’t mean it like that. Trust me, Jac, you are one of the strongest women I know. I just meant…you don’t have to hide your real feelings and struggles from me.”
Jac. Everything in her stilled. Zane had never called her that before. But “Jac” had been Wade’s affectionate name for her. And Zane had said it with a hard C just as Wade always had. If she didn’t know better, she would swear the two men were conspiring against her. But Zane had never had the opportunity to meet Wade. Nor had Jacinda been afforded the opportunity to meet Zane’s first wife, who had died in childbirth when he was just a young man.
Jacinda hoisted herself up onto the wagon seat without even waiting for Zane’s help. “I don’t have anything I need to confide. We’d best get going if we’re to beat the dark.”
Zane pressed his lips together, traversed the back of the wagon, and swung up onto the driver’s seat. With a click of his tongue and a snap of the reins, he set the team to trotting down the road.
He’d been patient with Jacinda Callahan fo
r several years. Especially since he’d been attracted to her from the moment he’d first laid eyes on her in her dining room all those months ago.
At first, he’d flirted with her a little, but it had been clear from the start that she wasn’t interested in jumping into a courtship with an old codger like him. He’d thought maybe she had another beau in the wings, because surely a single woman as attractive as her would have men buzzing around like bees to clover. And a few had tried. But Jacinda had always put them firmly in their place—which was anywhere other than in her life.
Zane had proceeded with caution after that, never wanting to make her take enough offense that she might put him out on his ear also. But in the past few months since Reagan had married, Zane had found his patience with the whole tiptoeing around their feelings growing thin. He wasn’t getting any younger, and neither was she.
And there were times when he could sense that she was attracted to him.
There would be a softening of the cornflower blue of her eyes. Or a little release of breath which reminded him of the way that Daniella used to respond when he took her hand. But then Jacinda would give herself a little shake and in a blink, it was as though she had dropped a mask back into place and reconstructed a wall between them.
Zane canted her a look. He shouldn’t have let that endearment slip out. But Reagan had mentioned it to him not long ago—how his father had always called her “my Jac”—and ever since then he’d not been able to think of her as anything else. It was diminutive, just like her, but also implied the strength that embodied her.
Even now he could tell from the pinched pucker of her lips that she was fretting about something, but he knew she wouldn’t say anything. She would battle through her fears alone and with a smile and a word of dismissal for anyone who questioned if she was all right.
Beauty from Ashes (Wyldhaven Book 3) Page 28