The Lawman's Redemption (Wells Cattle Company Book 3)

by Pam Crooks

  “I expected you would.”

  But damn, it cut right through him to hear her say it. He’d braced for it, known it, but still it hurt like a bitch.

  Now, it was real.

  “I must continue my grandmother’s work. You know I must, don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  “The library means so much to me. Providing books, the opportunity to read—oh, the cultural benefits are enormous, and thousands of people will benefit. Thousands, Jack.”

  “You don’t have to convince me, honey. I already understand.”

  “There are untold details to tend to. After the scandal of Charles’s embezzling, the press will have to be dealt with. Accountants and bankers, and who knows what else. It’ll be like starting all over again.”

  “You’ll have your work cut out for you, for sure.”

  “The Ladies will expect me to be there, leading them through this endeavor.”

  “You can’t let them down, can you?

  A moment passed.

  “Jack.” She rose up on her elbow. The sheet slipped, revealing one delectably round breast. With blue eyes wide and voluminous, she stared at him. Her lower lip quivered. “Don’t you want me to stay?”

  He blinked. His brain turned somersaults to comprehend the switch to her logic.

  “Stay?” he rumbled. “Stay?”

  On a growl of pain and frustration, he flipped her over to her back with an abruptness that wobbled the mattress. He straddled her, glaring down at her with a ferocity he couldn’t curtail.

  “You think it’s not tearing me up inside, listening to you detail how your life is going to be halfway across the country?” he demanded. “A life that will never include me?”

  “But it could, Jack. Come with me tomorrow, and—”

  “No.”

  She sucked in a breath. “Why?”

  “I can’t.” He thought anew of his obligations right here in Great Falls, the debt he owed to the townspeople, and his jaw tightened.

  “You can’t? Or won’t?” There that full lip went, getting all quivery again.

  “Call it what you want, honey, but I’m not going. It would likely destroy us both.”

  And Jack couldn’t risk losing what they had, every raw and vulnerable perfect moment of it.

  “Minneapolis has a fine police force, Jack. They’d be proud to have a lawman like you in their ranks.”

  An image of George Huys slipped into his mind. Not once had it mattered to the man that Jack was an outlaw’s son. At the outset, from the moment Jack had introduced himself, the police chief had trusted him for who he was, for the reputation Jack had earned despite the blemish of his father’s crimes.

  Would Minneapolis be so forgiving?

  Somehow, Jack didn’t think so.

  “I’m in love with you, Grace. You’re the most perfect woman I’ve had the pleasure of knowing, but I can’t go with you. And I can’t ask you to stay here in the territory.”

  “But—”

  “Not until you’re ready.” Maybe she never would be, but it was a chance he had to take. “We’ll both know when the time is right.”

  He eased down over her, ever so slowly, belly to belly, thigh to thigh, the fire to have her again, to show her how much he hated losing her from his life, building again in his groin.

  “Jack.” Her eyes, always a perfect shade of blue, filled with moisture.

  He lowered his head, licked her neck, inhaled the fragrance of her skin.

  “When you’re ready, Grace honey, you’ll know where to find me,” he murmured.

  He could only hope she would. Be ready. If she never was, if she couldn’t love him… well, it would rank right up there with one of the worst times of his life, and he wasn’t going to think of it.

  Not when he wanted to think of things far more pleasurable.

  A trail of tears streamed down her cheek, and he kissed them away, tenderly, lovingly. She curled her arms around his neck, held him close and breathed his name.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I will.”

  She gave him hope, fragile and tenuous, and maybe nothing would come of it, but he clung to the hope just the same. Time took on new meaning, gave him one last chance to show her just how much he was going to miss her.

  Which he did.

  Until the night was gone.

  Epilogue

  Spring

  Preparations for Allie and Mick’s wedding were in full swing at the Wells Cattle Company, a two-day event that included invitations to several hundred people from throughout the territory, surrounding states, and beyond. Paris spared no expense for the most important occasion in his only daughter’s life, and the wedding promised to be the social event of the year.

  Which only worried Grace all the more.

  Not that she would’ve missed Allie’s wedding for the world or wished her anything less. Allie was her friend, the next best thing to having a real sister in her life. She deserved the happiness and attention, all of which were a perfect accompaniment to the love she’d found with Mick.

  No, for Grace it was more a worry of the unknown than anything else.

  A worry borne from seeing Jack again.

  She stood at the tall window of one of the upstairs guest rooms in the WCC’s main house and watched the beehive of activity taking place on the lawn below. Scores of men and women were working to set up a huge canvas tent and arrange neat rows of white painted chairs beneath. Tables of food would soon follow, and already flowers tucked in long, rectangular boxes sat neatly off to the side of the expansive yard, ready to be arranged in their vases.

  The wedding would begin with a prenuptial supper in a few hours’ time, but the three giggling women surrounding Jack seemed oblivious to the work needing to be done, appearing far too eager to serve him lemonade and titillate him with their flirting, and it was all Grace could do to stand there and watch it happen.

  Yet… she couldn’t step away from the window to save her soul, not when the very sight of him filled the emptiness inside her. A heartrending, stomach-twisting yearning to be with him again after so many months apart, to feel those sinewy arms around her and hear his voice, low and husky in her ear.

  In the bright afternoon sun, in perfect spring weather, he wore his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows and his collar unbuttoned at the throat. With his Levi’s snug and his Stetson bumped up on his forehead, his hip cocked and relaxed, merciful saints, he was and always would be the most masculine man she’d ever met.

  She’d missed him. So much.

  She loved him, even more.

  Not that he showed an inkling of any love or suffering on her behalf at the moment, and emitting a miserable moan, she stepped away from the window and leaned her head back along the wall, papered in pretty yellow flowers.

  Her eyes closed. On a weepy sigh, her hands found the gentle swelling on her abdomen.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t have come back after all, my sweet one,” she murmured softly and caressed the little mound of innocence inside her. The precious gift Jack had given her. “We’ll only intrude into his new life.”

  Jack had hired on as Great Falls’ newest deputy, she’d learned. Allie spoke of how the police chief made no secret of his pride in having Jack on the force. As his right-hand man, Jack had already proved to be a serious asset against the lawless, and the town’s citizens had been quick to show him their gratitude and respect.

  “But he deserves to know about us, doesn’t he?” Grace insisted, half to herself, half to her baby. “Allie’s wedding has given us the perfect opportunity to tell him.”

  Still, it wouldn’t be easy for a man to accept the unexpected responsibility of a child. Her father had been a perfect example of such a man. Carl’s, too. Both had been quick to shirk their duties and leave Bess Reilly to raise her children by herself.

  Even if Jack did sink so low, Grace was fully prepared to be the best mother she could be. Alone. From the moment she realized she carried a baby
in her womb, her whole life shifted from what was important—and what wasn’t.

  And being a mother was everything Grace wanted to be.

  A knock sounded at the door. Her eyes opened, and she straightened from the wall. “Come in.”

  Allie rushed in, carrying a pink froth of chiffon and silk. “Your gown just arrived from the dressmaker’s, Grace. Let’s see if it fits now, shall we?”

  A new round of guilt assaulted her from all the trouble she’d caused—last minute alterations from a dress too small at the waist.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t go through with this, Allie. It’s not proper etiquette for someone in my condition to be maid of honor, and I don’t want to embarrass you—”

  “Embarrass me? Pooh!” Allie enveloped her in a quick hug, dress and all. “Who cares about raising a few eyebrows? After what we’ve both been through?” She stepped back, her happiness shining in her blue eyes. “Besides, you’re my dearest friend. I just couldn’t get married without you at my side.”

  No one knew of Grace’s expectant state. She’d sworn Allie to secrecy and wouldn’t even commit to coming back to Montana until the last minute. Until she had enough nerve….

  Allie eyed her knowingly. “You have to tell him, Grace. He’ll have your hide if you don’t.”

  She nibbled worriedly on her lower lip. “I know.”

  “It’s not right if he finds out from someone else about his own child. And I think it’s absolutely silly you wouldn’t let me tell him you were coming. How long do you think you can keep up this charade? Making everyone think I’m having a different maid of honor?”

  “Not much longer, I’m afraid.” A few hours, at most. Until the prenuptial supper, being set up now, at this very moment.

  “I’ve never known you to be a coward. You’d better tell him, and soon, or I’ll do it for you,” Allie warned in exasperation.

  “I’ll tell him. I promise.”

  Allie’s glance fell on the bedside clock. “Oh, my. Look at the time. We have to hurry, Grace. I’ll help you try on your dress.”

  After Grace shimmied into the bridesmaid gown, Allie stepped behind her to fasten the long row of pearl buttons extending from Grace’s neck, down her back and to her waist… where no amount of tugging or breath-holding could get the last few to fasten.

  Grace groaned. “Now what?”

  Allie pursed her lips. “He’s going to be big like his daddy, I think.”

  A knock sounded on the door. “Grace, is Allie in there with you?”

  They both turned toward Zurina’s voice.

  “She is. Come in,” Grace called.

  The exotically beautiful matriarch of the Wells empire stuck her head in. “I’m sorry to interrupt. The bunting to decorate the tables has arrived, but it’s the wrong shade of pink.” She halted and darted her glance between them. “Is everything all right?”

  Allie set her hands on her hips. “The dress doesn’t fit.”

  Grace’s cheeks flushed. She heaved an embarrassed breath.

  “What? It doesn’t fit?” Zurina strode into the room, but it only took a single glance at Grace’s rounded belly to know why. “Oh. I see.”

  “You may as well tell her, Grace,” Allie said.

  “You are going to have a baby,” Zurina said, before she could. “No one needs to tell me what I can see with my own eyes.”

  “Jack’s,” Grace said, giving up.

  “That’s wonderful!” Zurina’s delight was genuine. “Oh, congratulations! He will make a fine papa!”

  “He doesn’t know, so mum’s the word.” Allie’s disapproval couldn’t be hidden.

  “Well, he will soon enough.” Zurina replaced her attention for the matter at hand. “Let me see what needs to be done with the dress.”

  She examined the seam with an efficiency Grace found relieving. “I can let out a little more fabric. Very easy. Come down to my sewing room but take the back stairwell so no one sees you. We must keep the surprise. Bring your shoes so we can make sure the hem is just right, too.” She rushed toward the door. “You’ll look at the bunting, Allie?”

  “I’ll be right there.” Allie headed toward the door after her. “I’ll see you soon, Grace. At the supper, if not before.”

  “Thank you, Allie.” Grace vowed to be less trouble from now on.

  Alone again, she removed her shoes and hosiery, scooped up the new pair of shoes still in their box and strode in her bare feet to the window to inspect the activity below. Jack was gone, and so were the three females with him, and she hoped they left him alone from now on.

  She hastened down the steps toward the small alcove Zurina used as her sewing room. Voices reached her—the animated chatter of women from nearby ranches who crowded the kitchen, chopping and stirring while they prepared mammoth portions of food. In her haste to keep from bothering anyone, but mostly to keep from being seen, Grace emerged from the stairwell and padded quickly toward the alcove, just as Catalin, Zurina’s one-year-old daughter, toddled squealing and stiff-legged out of the room, chased by another little girl, and then another, both several years older and enjoying the game as much as the baby.

  Grace veered back to avoid them… and careened right into someone walking backward, leading a cart laden with half a dozen glass vases filled to their brims with water. Jack, working in tandem with Trey, and both men veered sideways to avoid hitting Grace and the running children, too.

  The cart tilted, despite their scrambling efforts to keep it upright. Several vases clattered to the floor, hurling Grace and the front of her dress with a stunning amount of water. The containers shattered, spraying glass everywhere. Someone screamed. Catalin howled. Grace yelped in horror from being the cause of it all.

  “Don’t move!” Jack roared.

  And though the command rumbled throughout the room, to the very rafters, silencing every voice, every action, it was Grace he speared with a stunned expression.

  “You all right?” he barked.

  Mortified beyond words, beyond tears, she could only nod, frozen in place by his wrath and her pathetically bare feet and dripping in the dress that proclaimed her honored place in the wedding. Despairing that they had to meet again, like this.

  “She’s not bleeding that I can see,” Trey said, calmer, giving her a once-over while he scooped up his baby girl for comforting.

  “Take Grace upstairs to her room, Jack.” Zurina took charge from the alcove doorway. “She’s soaked to the skin. Get her out of her dress so it can be dried. I’ll send someone up for it shortly. And do be careful with her.”

  Jack took one step toward her, his boot soles crunching glass…

  Grace appealed to Zurina. “I’m so sorry—oh!”

  …and swung her up into his arms, halting the rest of the apology Grace intended to make. But Zurina was already busy, combining her efforts with a group of other women to sweep up glass and soak up water off the floor, everyone working quickly to clear the mess so supper preparations could be resumed.

  Grace had no other recourse but to hang on to Jack while he hauled her up the stairwell, his jaw set and his anger tangible.

  “Which room is yours?” he growled, reaching the hallway.

  “The yellow one.”

  He angled her in effortlessly, sliding her from his arms onto her feet. Her toes sank into the soft square of carpet decorating the floor. He slammed the door shut and glared at her.

  “Take the dress off,” he said.

  Her chin kicked up. “Does it please you to act the barbarian with me?”

  A muscle in his cheek moved. He swung away from her, drew in a harsh breath, and swung back again.

  “What game are you playing, Grace?” he demanded, his voice low. Ominously low.

  “What makes you think I am?”

  “You all but fall off the face of the earth these past months. Then, you show up like a damned ghost. The day before your best friend’s wedding. Her maid of honor.” His control seemed on the verge of slipping. “I�
�m Mick’s best man, and I don’t even know you’re in the damn wedding party.”

  She didn’t move. She couldn’t. She knew her plan hadn’t been quite perfect, and the regret built inside her, higher and higher, that it wasn’t.

  “Yes.” What else could she say? It was the truth. The cowardly, unfair truth. “I’m sorry.”

  “How long has Allie known?” he asked, quieter, his control precariously back into place. “Or Zurina?”

  “Long enough.” She shifted, one bare foot to the other. “Does it matter?”

  “You strong-armed them into keeping their mouths shut, didn’t you? You forced them to lie for you.”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “The hell it wasn’t,” he snapped.

  She flinched, and the tiny life inside her fluttered within the womb, as if showing his disapproval, too. Reminding her he was there, of all she yet needed to do.

  “I told you to take the dress off,” Jack said. Softly.

  “I can’t.” Hating her helplessness, she drew in a jagged breath. “The buttons are too small and too hard to reach.”

  “Come here, then.”

  He hadn’t moved, she noticed. He intended to force her to swallow her pride, to come to him first.

  Because he was hurting? As much as she was?

  Because he hungered to take her into his arms? As much as she wanted him to?

  Because he wanted nothing more than to break down the barriers between them, to unleash the closeness they’d once shared?

  Yes. She sensed that about him. All those things. And knew they were true.

  She took heart, for knowing gave her courage to tell him what he needed to know.

  “We have to talk first,” she said.

  “Talk?” He narrowed an eye. “All right. How about you start with why it took you so long to come back.”

  She released her breath. He didn’t sound so angry anymore.

  “Because you told me you wanted me to be ready, that when I was, I’d know where to find you.” Her blood warmed at the memory of where they’d been when he spoke those words. How lusciously warm and naked, scant hours before she had to leave him. “Even before the train rolled into Minneapolis, I knew I couldn’t stay. Not without you. So I worked hard completing my obligations to the Ladies Literary Aid Society. I groomed someone else to take my place as president. I pushed the library plans through. The ground has been broken, and construction started.” She hesitated. “I even sold my grandmother’s house.”