by Karen Kirst
Shane tossed his hat on his desk and, using the corner as a seat, motioned for Jessica and the marshal to follow suit. “Grant, I’ve apprised Marshal Taylor of your situation. He knows everything.”
“You don’t remember me, do you?” Taylor’s sunburned face looked sad. “I can see the lack of recognition in your eyes.”
“I’m afraid not.”
“I’m Winston Taylor. You call me Taylor.” His mouth quirked. “Or Skinny.”
“How did you find me?”
“We’ve been searching for weeks. The prisoner you were transporting to Arlington, Wayne Thacker, was captured just over the mountains near Asheville. His cohorts ambushed you and left you for dead. In fact, we were beginning to fear that was the case. Aaron’s been going out of his mind with worry.”
“Aaron?”
Jessica’s eyes were huge in her pale face. “Isn’t that the name of the marshal those people in Maryville mistook you for?”
“Aaron. Your younger brother.” Taylor’s frown turned thoughtful. “It’s no wonder someone thought you were him. The two of you bear a strong resemblance to your father.”
“Can you describe this prisoner? Wayne Thacker?” Grant said.
Taylor’s description matched the first man Grant had remembered in a dream. The angry one. All this time, he’d believed he was on the wrong side of the law. When in reality, he’d been the one enforcing it. “I’m a marshal.”
“That’s right. A good one, too.”
Grant turned his attention to Shane, who’d been listening intently to their exchange. “Did you tell him about the jewels?”
“Yes. It’s likely you hid them in your bag on the off chance Thacker’s gang attempted a rescue. Your instincts proved useful.”
Taylor snorted. “There’s a jewelry store in Chicago that will attest to it being far more than merely useful.”
Grant was silent, trying to absorb the details of a life he didn’t remember. He had a brother. And a father. He flexed his left hand. What else didn’t he know?
Jessica caught the movement. Sitting rigidly in the chair, she looked fragile. “Are there any more family members Grant—I mean, Garrett—should know about?”
“Apart from aunts and uncles scattered about, he has no other immediate family members.”
Grant shifted on the hard seat. This was weird, asking a stranger about personal details. “So I’m not married?”
Understanding lit Taylor’s gaze. Stroking his mustache, his voice dipped in sympathy. “You were married once. About five years ago.”
Jessica’s soft gasp punctuated his own shock.
“Were?” he grated.
“Susannah died before your first anniversary.”
Pushing to his feet, Grant wandered to the window overlooking Main Street, his mind and heart numb, as if pumped full of laudanum. How? How could he have had a wife and not known it? Questions pelted his brain from all sides. What was she like? Had he loved her?
Pivoting, he avoided looking at Jessica. Did she suspect him of lying? Or toying with her emotions?
“How did she die?” he demanded.
Taylor didn’t answer at first. “Perhaps we should discuss this in private.”
Jessica started to rise. Grant threw out a hand. “No. Please stay.” Still looking at the marshal, he said, “Whatever you have to say can be said in front of them.”
He licked his lips. “Susannah was expecting. She died of complications related to her pregnancy.”
*
Jessica felt as if a part of her had died. The shock and disbelief etched on Grant’s face rent her heart into pieces. She longed to go to him, to try to ease his suffering. She didn’t feel free to do so. Hearing about this whole other life, a noble, exciting life as a marshal, with friends and family who cared about him, opened her eyes to how foolish she’d been.
She’d known he could never be hers. The knowledge that he’d courted, loved and married another woman crushed her. Made her feel crazy jealous and ashamed at the same time. The poor woman was dead. And his lost baby… Tears welled up and spilled over onto her cheeks.
Wiping at them surreptitiously, she wished she could disappear. A handkerchief was dropped on her lap. Lifting her head, she met Shane’s sympathetic regard. There was no condemnation in his eyes. Thinking back, there hadn’t been any all those months ago when she’d given him her account of events surrounding Lee’s death. Oh, there’d been frustration. But that had stemmed from his concern, hadn’t it?
“If it’s any consolation, you weren’t there when it happened.”
Grant stared at the older marshal. “Where was I?”
“You were protecting a judge whose life had been threatened.”
He looked haggard. “Let me get this straight. I left my pregnant wife alone so I could go gallivanting about the country protecting a judge who likely had been taking bribes in exchange for leniency? She suffered and died with no one around to help her?”
Taylor stood, hands out in a placating gesture. “You were doing your duty, Parker. Serving your country as you’ve done faithfully since you pinned on the badge.”
Shoulders sagging, Grant’s head bent low.
The auburn-haired man went and grasped his shoulder. “I’m sorry you’re having to relive this all over again, my friend.”
Jessica gained her feet. “Shane, would you mind taking me home? They have much to catch up on.”
Nodding, he snatched his hat. “Before we go, I have one more question.”
“What’s that?”
“If Grant found Thacker in Kentucky, what was he doing here? Gatlinburg wouldn’t have been on his route to Arlington.”
“You’re right.” Hefting a huge leather satchel onto the desk, Taylor rifled through the contents and brought out a sheaf of papers. “He was making a stop here to inquire about another case.” Licking his fingertips, he flipped through the papers until he found what he was looking for. “Ah. Here it is. The case is about two years old. Involves a bank robbery. Five men dead, including the banker and one female clerk. Our information led us to believe the perpetrator traveled here.”
Shane took the proffered paper. Through the thin parchment, Jessica could see the bold letters describing the criminal and bounty. She couldn’t make out the photograph.
Shane suddenly stiffened, nostrils flaring. His gaze shot to hers.
“You know him?” Taylor asked.
A sense of foreboding filling her, she moved to stand beside the sheriff. There, staring up at her, was a photograph of Lee. A small cry of protest escaped her lips. She covered them with shaking hands. Her stomach roiled.
Grant came and snatched the wanted sign, his mouth going slack when he read the name. “Jessica, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Shane said something to the marshal. Jessica couldn’t make sense of it through the roaring in her ears.
Grant had come to Gatlinburg in search of a murderer. In search of Lee, the man she’d trusted and loved and lost.
Whatever respect he’d had for her must surely be gone. Grant was a man whose job it was to uphold the law and punish those who broke it. She had aided a federal criminal. How would he ever look at her as anything other than a fool?
“I—I have to go.”
“Don’t,” he intoned as she bolted onto the boardwalk. “Jess!”
Behind her, she heard the scuffle of boots on wood. Heated words between the sheriff and Grant.
She didn’t stop. Didn’t slow down.
She couldn’t face US Marshal Grant—Garrett—Parker again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“You weren’t at the church service this morning, so I came to check on you.”
Grant turned the hat in his hands in a complete circle. He remained at the foot of her porch steps, oddly uneasy in this place he’d considered home for weeks. He would’ve thought learning he was an honest citizen in service to the government would make him feel as if he belonged, as if he had a right to be
here. But the truth hadn’t brought healing. The truth had acted like a disease, eating away at his and Jessica’s relationship until he wasn’t sure if there was anything left to salvage.
Jessica’s attention was on the pile of pink fabric in her lap. The sun’s light blocked by thick, low-hanging clouds rendered her unbound hair a darker hue in contrast to her slate-gray dress.
“Go away, Parker.”
“Not until we talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Of course she’d be stubborn. He balanced one boot on the bottom stair and rested his forearm across his thigh. “I disagree. I can be just as obstinate as you, so unless you’d like for me to stick around all day, you’ll hear me out.”
Pink mouth compressing, she lifted her gaze. The turmoil in her eyes punched him in the gut. If Gatlinburg hadn’t been his destination, if he hadn’t been searching for Cavanaugh, he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to inflict pain. The prospect of missing the chance to know her, to love her, made his chest ache and his heart kick in protest.
What good is loving her going to do either of you? an insidious voice demanded. Your life is dedicated to bringing criminals to justice. A treacherous existence not suited to marriage.
After she’d fled, he and Taylor had spoken long into the night. He’d answered Grant’s myriad questions as best he could. Those pertaining to his marriage to Susannah Baker hadn’t been as clear-cut. According to the older marshal, Grant hadn’t been one to share private details with just anyone. Aaron would be better suited to supply the information he needed. What Grant was able to glean, however, was that after her death, he’d planned to remain single.
One thing was certain—Jessica would’ve been better off never meeting Garrett Parker.
“I thought you’d be packing,” she charged, the needle and thread held aloft.
“That’s what Taylor wants.”
Something flickered in her expression. She pressed her lips more tightly together.
“I’m not leaving town until I talk to my brother. Taylor’s sending word for Aaron to come here at his first convenience. In the meantime, I’ll continue working and going about life as usual.”
The thought of meeting his brother filled him with anticipation. Apprehension, too, if he was honest. He didn’t know what to expect, what sort of relationship they shared. Without knowing their history, he was a blind man fumbling about in the dark.
“And will Taylor stay, as well?”
“Shane found a family willing to take him in for the time being.”
“He seems like a decent man.” She tilted her head. “You don’t remember him?”
“That mustache of his is hard to forget. And the cheroot scent clinging to his clothes. Do I recall working with him? No.”
“Maybe, when you return to Arlington, to your home, and you’re surrounded by your possessions, you’ll remember more.”
She dipped her head, but not before he glimpsed her deep sorrow. The specter of his marriage loomed between them. And the fact he’d been pursuing the man she’d loved.
The distance between them seemed insurmountable. Grant hated it. He wasn’t about to leave Gatlinburg with things unsettled and broken. He couldn’t leave her with hurt feelings. If it weren’t for Jessica, he might’ve died. He certainly wouldn’t have adjusted to his altered existence without her.
“Let’s go for a walk.”
He thought for a minute that she’d refuse him. Clearly unhappy, she put her sewing project inside the cabin and halted before descending the steps. She didn’t come near. Waving her hand, she said, “After you.”
Grant yearned to hold her close, to promise her everything would turn out fine. He couldn’t lie to her, however. Things wouldn’t be fine. How could they when his future didn’t include her? Staying in Tennessee wasn’t an option. He had a responsibility to his fellow marshals. To the US Government. Even if Jessica agreed to a future visit from him, who knew how long it would be before he could travel this way again?
By that time, she could be in a courtship with someone else.
His heart heavy, he focused on keeping his stride matched to hers. They entered the forest. Without the sunlight peeking through the canopy above, the understory assumed a mysterious quality. The humidity moistened his skin and made the ends of his hair cling to his nape.
Jessica maintained a healthy distance, looked everywhere but at him. “How are you coping with…everything?”
His chest heaved with a sigh. “It’s a lot to take in at once. I don’t doubt Taylor’s sincerity, but it feels as if the life he’s described belongs to someone else.”
He stepped over a moss-encrusted fallen log. Jessica avoided his outstretched hand and climbed over it without his assistance. He thought of their most recent embrace, clung to the memory of her sweet kiss and soft expression.
Memories fade. They won’t be enough to sustain me.
“US marshal wasn’t one of the jobs we thought of, was it?” She finally deigned to look at him, attempting a half smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
He silently willed her to hold his gaze, to read everything he couldn’t articulate into words. “No. It wasn’t.”
She stumbled over an exposed root and, pulling away from his fleeting touch, put even more space between them. “It’s a noble profession.”
He tamped down his frustration. “According to Taylor, my father was a respected constable for many years. That’s the reason Aaron and I went into law enforcement.”
Walking into church that morning, he’d recognized the not-so-subtle change in folks’ regard. Admiration and respect had replaced suspicion. He wouldn’t lie. It felt good to be rid of the troubling imaginings, to slay the panic beast that had hovered below the surface since awakening in these woods. To know he’d lived his life righting wrongs. Upholding justice. Ensuring criminals got what was coming to them.
He wished he could remember. The job. His father. Aaron. Susannah. His unborn child.
Sadness overtook him. How could he have forgotten something that monumental? That tragic? He didn’t know how he’d met Susannah, how they’d come to be married, whether or not he’d truly loved her. The old questions had been replaced with a whole new set.
“I probably shouldn’t mention it.” They’d reached the stream. Bracing a hand against a gnarled tree bent sideways, she observed the rippling water. “I didn’t have a chance to express my condolences last night. I—I’m sorry about your w-wife and child.”
Boots making impressions in the soft earth, he clenched his fists. Minnows darted through the water. “I want to remember everything. There’s a part of me, though, that thinks maybe not knowing the details is best.”
“I can’t imagine what you’re going through.” Tenderness wove through her voice.
Grant fought the impulse to confess his feelings. More than anything, he wanted to take her in his arms and not let go until she believed in his love for her. No matter what the past contained, Jessica was the only woman who’d possess his heart. His dreams of a future resided solely with her.
Rubbing his temples, he called on all his strength of will. She wasn’t ready to hear it. And he wasn’t in the position to tell her such things.
“Guess this explains your affinity for the outdoors,” she mused, glancing about at their lush surroundings. “You traveled a lot for your work.”
“Spent my nights stargazing.” He hadn’t memorized the constellations from a book, as they’d supposed, but from lonely nights sitting by a campfire.
“You must’ve seen so many places.” Crouching at the water’s edge, she plucked a yellowed leaf from the surface and twirled it in her fingers, unmindful of the moisture dripping on her skirts. Her glorious hair spilled down her back, shiny and luminous like a new copper penny. “Your interest in your surroundings must stem from that.”
“Possibly.”
“You knew the year Tennessee went dry without having to think about it.” As her statem
ent registered, her gaze shot to his, and he saw the shame come flooding back.
Striding over before she could retreat, he bent and clasped her shoulder. “We’ve been through this already. Don’t reclaim guilt that doesn’t belong to you.”
Jessica averted her face. Long ropes of hair cascaded over his hand. Gently, he smoothed the silky strands into place. “Jess, look at me.”
When she wouldn’t, he curved his hand about her cheek and nudged her face in his direction. Her expression was awash in misery. “You don’t know how humiliating it is,” she burst out. “That you were only here to search for him. I was so blind!”
His thumb stroked her cheekbone. “No,” he intoned. “You trusted someone who failed to see what a treasure he had in you. He willingly deceived you. I don’t need my memories to know there are some people who take advantage of others’ generosity and trust. They use others to get what they want without thought to the consequences.” He shook his head. “You aren’t the only one who has regrets.”
“What do you mean?”
Unable to be this close any longer, he reluctantly shoved to standing. “I can’t stop thinking about what Taylor said about my—” He swallowed hard. “About Susannah.”
Her eyes dimmed. “What about her?”
“Instead of staying home, I left her alone to track outlaws. What does that say about my character? My priorities?” Slapping his hat against his thigh, he tunneled his fingers through his hair. “Taylor said she didn’t have relatives nearby. I don’t know how long she suffered before… She must’ve been frightened out of her mind. Do you know what the worst part is? I don’t even remember what she looked like. She may as well have never existed.”
Jessica approached, her hands together in a gesture of pleading. “Don’t do this to yourself, Grant.”
“I feel like a monster.”
Lying in bed last night, he’d tried to force the memories to break free of the black void, to recall Susannah’s face. Her laugh. Her voice. Anything. He’d wound up with a headache the size of Mount Le Conte.
Mimicking his earlier entreaty, she laid a hand on his chest, directly over his heart. Her eyes burned with conviction. “You are the most compassionate, caring man I’ve ever met. You wouldn’t have left her if you’d had a choice.”