Marrying the Marshal

by Laura Marie Altom

  “Oh. Then, yeah. Thanks. Got any paper?”

  “Uh-uh,” Sam said. “It’s all in my desk. Why do you need it?”

  “I gotta meet Clara at recess. She made me pay her my lunch money to tell me how to get Mom and Dad married.”

  “Man,” Sam said. “For that much money, she should hafta write it down for you.”

  ON THE BENCH, presiding over the tedious jury selection for a copyright infringement complaint, Allie tried focusing, but it was tough getting past giddy teenaged pangs of wanting to hurry up and finish with work so she could get home to see Caleb, who was spending the day with Cal at his school.

  It’d only been a day since they’d shared that precious Saturday morning at the inn, but already she was eager to explore more of their burgeoning romance.

  “Thanks, guys,” she said to her security team once she’d finally adjourned for the day. All had been so calm since the end of Francis’s trial, so she didn’t really see why their presence was even necessary, but if it kept Caleb close to her, she wasn’t about to complain.

  “Sure. No biggee,” Adam said, glancing over his shoulder, then muttering something into his radio microphone.

  “Nice job on the job,” Kent, one of the more stone-faced marshals, said in the hall. He wasn’t a very talkative guy, so from him, Allie took this as high praise…Although odd, considering the afternoon’s monotonous work.

  “All’s clear,” Adam said. “Let’s rock and roll.”

  “After you,” Kent said, opening Allie’s office door only to step back and let her go in first, instead of entering, checking that the coast was clear, then letting her in. She was still pondering the change in tradition when she opened her mouth, then put her hand over it to contain the unjudgelike whoop of glee that would’ve escaped.

  Standing in the center of a jumble of tarp-covered furniture were two very green marshals, holding green paintbrushes. Her formerly yellowed walls were now a vibrant shade of jungle-green.

  “Taa-daa!” Caleb said. “This better?”

  “Better?” she squealed, running to him for a hug—not caring if in the process he got green paint on her solemn black robe. “It’s awesome! Thank you!” She pulled back. “But I thought you were on duty and spent the day with Cal at school?”

  He grinned. “With your observational skills, it’s a good thing I’m the protector and you’re the protectee. Relax. According to the last report, our son is out of class for the day and seated at the kitchen table doing homework.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I’m gonna go clean up,” Bear said. “And for the record, I’m all paid up on returned favors.”

  Before the huge, sweet lug of a marshal got away, Allie squeezed him in a heartfelt hug as well. “Thanks. I love it.”

  “Sure,” Bear said, hugging her back.

  “And I also love the spot of green on your head,” she teased. “Might be a whole new fashion statement for you.”

  He growled.

  “I’ll be outside if you need me,” Adam said. “Kent wants me to introduce him to that hottie in the front office.”

  “Go for it, man,” Caleb said. “She’s a looker.”

  “Hey,” Allie said, swatting his arm. “Watch it. I’ll hold you in contempt.”

  “Mmm…” He tugged her back against him. “Being locked in a cell with you doesn’t sound all that bad.”

  That earned him another swat. “Seriously, Caleb, this goes beyond sweet. I can’t believe you even remembered me telling you how uninspiring this office was, let alone that you took it upon yourself to paint it for me. How can I thank you?”

  “Boy,” he said, scratching his head. “That’s a tough question. I would ask for a kiss, but….”

  But she was already on her tiptoes, kissing him, molding her lips to his, parting them with her tongue. He tilted his head and groaned, inviting her farther in.

  He backed up, taking her along with him, eventually landing them against a tarp-covered table. Unfortunately, under their weight, it skidded out from under them.

  Allie shrieked as they went down, but Caleb was there, cushioning her fall.

  The door burst open. Adam blurted, “You all right?”

  Allie, straddling Caleb, felt her face turning a hundred shades of red.

  “We’re, ah, good,” Caleb said. “Thanks.”

  “You’d better be damned glad your boyfriend’s my brother,” Adam said with a huge grin, at the same time wagging his index finger. “Otherwise I’d report you for mugging a marshal.” Just as abruptly as he’d entered, he left.

  “Ugh,” Allie said, dropping her chin on Caleb’s chest. “That couldn’t have been any more humiliating.”

  Sliding his hand from the small of her back down to her rear end, he said, “You saying you’re embarrassed to be seen with me?”

  “Seen riding you in my office—yeah. I find that a little humbling, considering the rather public state of my career.”

  “You can count on Adam to keep your dirty little secret.”

  “My dirty secret?” she said, laughing and pummeling his chest. “What about you? You started this.”

  “Um, for the record…” He cleared his throat. “I was innocently painting your office, when you virtually threw yourself at me. I was only trying to fend you off when—”

  Before any additional verbal bologna spilled past his gorgeous lips, she kissed them good and hard. And just in case he got any big ideas about starting back up with his teasing, she kissed him again softly. Melting against him until he was rolling them over, putting himself on top. Judging by the all-male pulsing bulge against her midsection, there was no question that he wouldn’t have had a problem taking things still further. At least until he pushed himself up and off of her, swiping his fingers through his hair.

  “Damn,” he said. “You don’t kiss anyone else like that, do you?”

  “What if I did?” she asked with a sassy smile.

  He smiled back—sort of. Only she couldn’t tell if it was a “ha-ha” smile, or maybe, a “just a little bit serious” smile. “If you did,” he said, “no question about it, the guy kissing you back would have to be taught a lesson in trespassing.”

  “COME ON, COME ON,” Allie’s son said, dragging her by her hand through the open back door and into the house. Caleb was behind her. “Geez, what took you guys so long?”

  Feeling a blush rise, once they all stood inside, Allie turned to Caleb. “How about you tell Cal what took so long.”

  “Well, bud, it was like this…” Caleb took a seat on one of the counter stools. “Me and Bear painted your mom’s office, but—”

  “Cool! What color?”

  “Green, but—”

  “Okay, come see what I made for you guys. You’re going on a date.”

  A date?

  Not that Allie wouldn’t enjoy doing just that, but since when did Cal even know the word date, let alone what a couple was supposed to do on one?

  This time, Cal dragged Caleb along after him toward the dining room.

  “Taa-daa!” their little boy said. “You like it?”

  The dining room table had been set with the paint-stained plastic cloth she and Cal used for crafts. On top of that sat mismatched place settings of her grandmother’s white china plates and the heavier, everyday cobalt blue saucers, bowls and mugs. Filling all the dishes was an assortment of clumped macaroni and cheese that looked like it hadn’t been cooked—probably an accurate assumption since Cal wasn’t yet allowed to use the stove. Then there was applesauce and sliced apples. Cookies and peanut butter sandwiches. Chocolate milk in the mugs, and what looked like turquoise Kool-Aid in the martini glasses she’d purchased for a holiday office party and hadn’t used since. In the center of the table sat her best crystal vase—another gift from her grandmother. Filling the vase was water and a burgundy plastic poinsettia left over from the previous year’s Christmas.

  “This is amazing, man.” Caleb whistled, giving his son’s ba
ck a pat. “Other than our date, what’s the occasion? Is it my birthday and I forgot?”

  “No,” Cal said with a giggle. “At least I don’t think so.”

  “But it could be?” Caleb asked.

  “No, it couldn’t,” Allie said, pulling her son over for a hug.

  “How do you know?” Cal asked.

  “Because I happen to know for a fact your father’s birthday is in March.”

  “Sorry,” Cal said, his expression highly serious. “Want me to write it down for you so you don’t forget?”

  “Thanks,” Caleb said. “That’d be great.”

  “Okay, but first, you guys have to sit.”

  “What about you?” Allie asked while her suspiciously well-mannered son pulled out her chair.

  “I already ate,” he said, heading around the table to pull out his father’s chair as well. “You guys go ahead. Oh, and since I’m not allowed to play with matches, here.” He handed her the big pack of wooden kitchen matches. “You can light the candles.”

  “Thank you,” she said, solemnly taking them from him.

  “You’re welcome. Bye. Have fun!”

  “But, what’re you—” Too late, judging by the clomps up the stairs—he was already heading for his room. A few seconds after that, faint tinny pop music pulsed through the dining room ceiling.

  “Is it just me?” she asked, putting her crumpled red napkin—also left over from last Christmas—on her lap. “Or is this whole setup a little suspicious?”

  “You think?” Caleb dug in to his saucer of applesauce.

  “Who do you think put him up to this?”

  “If I had to guess,” he said, guzzling his chocolate milk, “this plot reeks of Clara.”

  “WOW, GUYS,” Allie said a few days later in her home’s detached garage. “This is like the rooster Taj Mahal.”

  Cal grinned with pride, pounding a nail into the coop’s shingles.

  Caleb said, “A couple of off duty guys chipped in to help fence a back corner of the yard. So once we get this done, we should be good to go.”

  “Will you take me to see it?” Allie asked her security team.

  Caleb glanced toward the garage windows. They were covered in brown paper. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather keep you both inside.”

  “But why?” she asked. “You said yourself that most likely Cal and I are out of danger.”

  He shrugged.

  While Cal was busy pounding another nail, Allie gestured for Caleb to join her alongside the tool bench.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “You tell me. Is there something going on I should know about?”

  He looked away.

  “Caleb?”

  “Look,” he said, taking her hand, brushing her palm with his thumb, in the process sending unexpected pleasure deep into her belly. “There’s nothing concrete. Just a gut feeling that we’re in the eye of the storm.”

  She took his free hand, gave him a squeeze. “I appreciate that you care, but really, my gut feeling is that we’re fine.”

  Sighing, he pulled her into his arms.

  “What?” she said against his chest. “Haven’t you ever heard of women’s intuition?”

  “Have I told you lately you make me crazy?”

  “Hmm…” She put her finger to her lips. “Not that I remember, but I’ve been awfully busy. I suppose I might’ve forgotten any specific statement alluding to that intent.”

  “Mom?” Cal asked. “Since you and Caleb are hugging and laughing and stuff, does that mean you’re getting married? ’Cause my friend Clara said that’s what you have to do.”

  Allie made the mistake of looking up at Caleb to see the smile lighting his eyes. It said, “Hey, I answered the ‘Why We Were Late Coming Home From the Courthouse’ question. This one’s all yours.”

  “Is that what you want?” Allie asked. “For your father and I to get married?”

  He jiggled the nails in his right hand. “I dunno.”

  “Well, I kind of think judging by the fancy meal you fixed the other night, then by your question now, this is at least a subject you’ve thought about.”

  Looking at his father, Cal whined, “Can we get back to building? All this talking about girl stuff is boring.”

  Allie had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

  “Sure, bud,” Caleb said. “Is your mom allowed to stay, or is hammering too manly for her?”

  “Well…” Cal took a good, long while to ponder the question. “I suppose if she doesn’t tell us to be careful and stuff it’d be all right if she stays.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Allie cast them both a pouty grin. “I can tell I’m loved.”

  “We love you, Mom. We just don’t need you getting in the way of construction.”

  “Yeah,” Caleb said with a broad wink. “We can’t have you getting in the way.”

  Allie took a folding chair from its canvas storage bag, then set up camp at what she hoped was a safe distance from all the manly banging. She didn’t think she could ever be a safe distance from Caleb’s broad shoulders, or the honed muscles of his forearms and biceps, showcased as he wielded his hammer. Maybe even more disconcerting was the sight of him curved around their son, helping him position a shingle, or yank out a crooked nail.

  We love you, Mom.

  She knew her son loved her, but what about Caleb?

  From all that he’d shared about what he’d been feeling the last time they’d seen each other, she feared her mistake of ever leaving him was more in the realm of tragedy. That maybe—no, almost certainly—Caleb had loved her. Would’ve married her. If only she’d stayed around long enough for him to ask.

  But then really, what good would that have done?

  Sure, they’d have been married, raising Cal together, but ultimately, marriage wouldn’t have kept Caleb from entering the marshal’s service.

  Cal erupted in laughter.

  She looked up.

  Father and son fought an epic mini-sword fight with nails.

  Allie’s first instinct was to leap from her chair and make them stop before someone got hurt. But realistically, aside from a possible minor scratch, the worst harm that could come to her son was maybe a sore tummy from too much laughing.

  How many times in the past had she dealt with the tough single-parent issue of there not being nearly enough hours in the day for her to even do the necessities for Cal, let alone squeeze in extras like goofy play?

  But seeing him now, out of breath with laughter, was play really something extra? Or was it as vital to a child’s life as clean water and air?

  In that moment, seeing the joy on her son’s face, the full impact of what she’d done by not telling Caleb the truth about their son’s existence hit her in a crushing blow. Her chest ached from the weight of it.

  Not wanting either of her men to see her tears, she got up from her chair as quickly as possible and went to stand outside.

  Just beyond the reach of the back porch floodlight, the night was cold and dark and it was drizzling, only she didn’t care, because that’s how she felt inside.

  She’d been so concerned about protecting her son from all things that might’ve happened if Caleb got hurt, she’d missed the bigger picture. How she cherished memories of time spent with her father, as Cal would with his.

  “I thought you were in the house.” Caleb said, stepping outside the garage. “You should’ve waited for an escort.”

  Sniffling, she shook her head.

  “Do any of my guys even know you’re out here?”

  “Oh, Caleb, stop it with the security thing, okay? I’m fine. Cal’s fine. You caught the bad guys. We’re all fine.”

  “Are we?”

  Gripping her shoulders, he turned her to face him.

  The drizzle turned to rain.

  “I—I don’t know what you mean”

  With the pads of his thumbs, he softly swept the shadows beneath her eyes. “You’ve been crying.”

 
Again, she shook her head.

  “You’re not mad about all that stupid macho crap Cal said back there?”

  “No. As usual, you were right. He probably could use a little manly influence in his life.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  Like she seemed to be doing a lot lately, she threw her arms around him, hugging him like she’d never let go. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Please forgive me for keeping him from you for so long. He needs you. I’ve done a terrible job. He shouldn’t know how to knit. My mother and I have turned him into some freak of nature.”

  “No, no,” Caleb said, easing his hand beneath her sweater’s hem, then smoothing his strong, warm fingers up and down her back. “Every guy should know how to knit. I’m sure it might really come in handy for…” He laughed. “Well, I’m not sure for what, but baby, Cal’s okay. He’s an awesome kid. He’s got a damned strong foundation, and he got it from you.” Hands cradling either side of her face, he tilted her head, forcing her to look at him, to catch the full weight of his words. “Yeah, I’d give anything to have been here from the start with you, helping to shape his life and views. But I’m here now, and I thought we’d decided that’s what matters.”

  “It is.” She sniffed.

  “All right, then. No more tears. Let me get Bear in the garage to help Cal finish the roof, then we’ll get you inside for a hot bath.”

  “No, wait,” she said, wearing what she hoped was a big grin that might even rival the size of one of Caleb’s. “Maybe I’d rather have Bear helping me?”

  “Ha, ha,” Caleb said. “Get that sassy mouth of yours upstairs and in the tub. I’ll be up to deal with you momentarily.”

  Chapter Twelve

  With Cal squared away with Bear in the garage, Caleb stood outside Allie’s bedroom door, palms sweating, pulse pounding as if he were setting off on his first date.

  He wasn’t on duty, but that didn’t erase the moral dilemma of what he wanted so desperately to do.

  Was he just supposed to bust through the doors and pull some macho stunt like taking her on the side of the tub? Should he pull the nice guy routine and allow Allie to finish her bath in private? Did he go in and just pretend to be comfortable sitting on the small ottoman Allie used for putting on her makeup? Did he sit there, butt half-on/half-off the ridiculous, spindly thing, trying to keep up casual conversation when all he wanted to do was—