Marshall's Law

by Denise A. Agnew

  Dana’s soft laugh sounded throaty and sexy against his ears. When she reached up and touched his beard, sliding her fingers over his jaw in an affectionate touch, he almost pulled her into his arms again. “I might be enticed to forget again. Ghosts or no ghosts.”

  “Speaking of ghosts, I wonder if the exorcism worked. Did you hear them…uh…”

  “Yeah, I think so.” She sounded a tad embarrassed, and he liked the way her face flushed. “I know I heard us.”

  As they left the house, the night sky had turned into blue velvet with a blanket of diamonds, and he wondered how many more nights he would have Dana in his arms. Soon he’d catch the bastard that terrorized her and her family. She’d return to New Mexico and her novels. If he saw her again it would be the odd visit to Lucille’s home. Deep inside this realization burned like acid, making him uncomfortable as a porcupine on a pincushion.

  No. If he had anything to say about it, he wanted to see her as often as possible. Maybe they did have a chance.

  As he drove Marshall recalled she hadn’t finished telling him about her old boyfriend. Fred? Phillip? Frank? Whatever his name was. Part of him said to forget about the guy, but the other part recognized plain old-fashioned jealousy. He wanted to know about the man who had hurt her.

  “Tell me about this old boyfriend of yours,” he said before he could chicken out.

  In the dim light of the car he could still see her frown. “You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

  “Damn right I’m not. After what I told you about Eva and Helen, it’s quid pro quo.”

  She glanced at him, a furtive sidewise movement. “Frank was a year younger than I. Nothing significant. We met in a class and sort of danced around each other like mating birds for about six months. Not quite ready to—”

  She stopped, and Marshall realized with a shock that she described the same situation between her and him. They had engaged in a minor war since the day they’d met. When he said nothing she continued with her story, as if she wanted to spill it all right this minute. “He was intriguing, smart and funny. We had few things in common but something kept drawing us back to each other.”

  “Lust?”

  “Yes.” She sounded hesitant to admit it. “He seemed to fight his attraction for me, and I know I fought what I felt for him.”

  “What did you feel for him?”

  “It was more than physical attraction.” She shrugged and slid down in the seat a ways. “We had an affection and a common base of understanding.” She passed a hand over her face. “Friends warned me to stay away from him.”

  Marshall frowned. “Why? Was he dangerous?”

  “No. Nothing like that.” When he glanced over at her she looked edgy. Sort of like a seal under the beady-eyed observation of a shark. “We went out for drinks a few times. He seemed very good at getting me to reveal things to him that I had never told another man.”

  When she stopped he said, “Such as?”

  “I talked about old boyfriends.”

  “Uh-huh.” Again she dropped into silence and he wondered what it would take to make her regurgitate the entire story. If she held back this much there must be something pretty bad hovering around the edges. “How did he persuade you to talk about that stuff? Most guys don’t give a rat’s butt about former boyfriends.”

  She laughed. “You’re asking me about an old boyfriend. What’s your excuse?”

  She’s got you, Marshall. By the balls.

  He added a soft growl into his voice. “All right, all right. Don’t change the subject. Why did he want to know?”

  “I guess he figured he’d know my vulnerabilities, or he really cared about me. Maybe both. Anyway, I coughed up the info. He spent time putting down another boyfriend I’d had. Called him a jerk. Said he’d met him and the guy was only after me to get me in bed.”

  “That made you angry?”

  “Yeah, actually. It did. I didn’t believe the other guy only wanted me for sex. Frank apologized the next day, though. We had this…thing…whatever it was. It drew us together again and again.”

  Something nagged at him like an old wound plagued a man on a cold night. “Why did your friends warn you away from him?”

  She stayed silent for so long he thought she’d never answer. “You’re getting ahead of the story, Marshall,” she said wryly. “One night I broke down and asked him over to watch videos and one thing led to another.”

  His gut tightened as his head filled with pictures of a faceless man holding her in his arms and kissing her. He hated it. Hated the idea beyond words.

  He’d been so absorbed in her explanation he almost missed the turn off to his own house. When he pulled into the driveway, parked and turned off the engine, he didn’t open the door to go inside. The truth, right now, seemed more important.

  Gripping the steering wheel, he looked at that dark sky with the sparkling stars and took a deep breath. “And?”

  “We stopped. Actually, he stopped before we could…make love. He didn’t have to say why. I knew his reasons.”

  “What was his reason?” Marshall almost reached for her, turning so he could see moonlight fall across her face.

  “He was married.”

  He sucked in a breath as the truth ate a hole in him. “Married.” Though he sounded like a parrot he felt like a fool. “Did you know he was married when you and he were about to make love?”

  “Yes. But he was separated and had been for several months. He…he never did go back to her, even after he left me. I saw their divorce notice in the paper a few months after. I never saw him again.”

  She didn’t hesitate, and that bothered him double. If she’d been an innocent in this he would have understood, but the facts screamed out at him like a neon sign. One word stood out among all others.

  Adultery.

  Images of Eva and Helen merged in his mind with Dana until the picture formed a three-headed woman. Bitterness shoved past restraint and he opened the car and got out. He started for the house. He didn’t think about being polite or reasonable. Right now he wanted to be alone. Think about what Dana had said and why it burned a hole in his gut the size of Montana.

  He heard the other car door open, and she ran after him. He let them inside the house, set the security system, then headed for the kitchen.

  “Marshall.” She grabbed his sleeve. “What’s wrong?”

  He spun around and she lost her grip on his shirt. “I just need some time to think.”

  He went to the refrigerator and rummaged through it for a cold drink. When he found one he popped the can and spewed cola all over the front of his flannel. He cursed and as he set the drink on the counter, more soda spilled over.

  Dana reached for a towel, and she came at him like she meant to dab at his shirt. He took the towel and ineffectually wiped at the material.

  “Marshall, what’s this all about?” She reached for his shoulder. “Are you angry?”

  He wanted to be, but he also didn’t want to act like a jerk. Confusion and old memories ran amok in his head.

  He took a deep breath and kept a straight face. “No. I’m not really angry.”

  Worry entered her eyes. “Are you jealous of Frank?”

  “Of course I’m not.”

  “Then what is it? What set you off?” She looped the towel around her neck and planted her hands on her hips like a football coach ready to kick butt and take names. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing.”

  He should have known she wouldn’t back away. Leaning back against the counter, he folded his arms, ignoring the wet shirt. “It’s like this, Dana. I have a difficult time understanding why a woman would date a married man. Been there, done that. Got the T-shirt. The idea rubs me the wrong way.”

  Her mouth flopped open. Then closed. Then opened again. “I didn’t commit adultery. We were just friends. We didn’t do anything about the way we felt. We stopped before it could get out of hand—”

  “If he hadn’t stopped would yo
u have slept with him?”

  Uncertainty flickered across the features he’d mapped with his fingers, his lips, and his memory. “I don’t…I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know.” For long, agonizing seconds he stared at her and she at him. For a long moment, he didn’t know what to say or do. He shoved one hand through his hair. “Look, I need some time to think right now, okay? We’ll talk later.”

  He walked away, feeling her gaze boring him in the back. She didn’t rush after him or argue, and he knew they needed to discuss his feelings. Right now he didn’t know how he felt.

  Sunlight speared through the bottom of the curtains in the guest room, and Dana rolled to her other side with a groan. Her head throbbed, her throat ached and her eyelids felt as fat as Portobello mushrooms. A cold seemed to be creeping up on her.

  Falling into bed after Marshall had retreated to his bedroom had been an easy thing. She’d been tempted to toss her pillows around the room like a madwoman to relieve a little anxiety. Beyond ruining Marshall’s property she knew if she made that much noise he would have burst in the room thinking she’d been attacked.

  She heard the rustle of someone moving down the hall, then the clank of pots and pans in the kitchen. All night she’d tossed, unable to sleep but for short snatches of half lucid dreaming. Dreams where she’d tried to make Marshall understand she had always regretted her actions with Frank.

  Marshall had made his share of mistakes with women; he’d told her all about Eva and Helen yesterday and she’d seen a vulnerable side to Marshall she’d never imagined when she’d first met him. Maybe the uncertainty she’d seen in his eyes yesterday would have cleared by the time she saw him at breakfast this morning.

  Maybe she’d made one whopper of a mistake telling him about Frank and now she’d lose Marshall because of it.

  Maybe she’d never had him.

  No. I’ve seen it in his eyes. He does care for me.

  Sitting up, she put her hands to her head and moaned again. She rubbed her temples. Some painkiller for breakfast and maybe hot tea and toast would mend her world.

  If only it were that simple.

  After dressing and showering, she made her way into the living room. She found Marshall sitting at the dining room table with a cup of coffee. She expected to see a big meal in front of him. Instead his empty plate matched the contemplative look in his eyes.

  A gentle smile touched his mouth, and relief flooded through her as she grinned. Maybe he did understand about Frank.

  “Morning,” he said. “Coffee’s fresh. What would you like for breakfast?”

  As he started to stand up, she said, “Let me make breakfast. As a thanks for your hospitality.”

  He nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

  After she’d scrambled eggs and cooked up some bacon, she sat across from him. Should she bring up Frank or let it alone for now?

  “Your aunt called,” he said before she could make a comment.

  Dana’s head snapped up. “What? I didn’t hear the phone.”

  He pushed back from the table and took his coffee mug and plate to the dishwasher. “About an hour ago. She says Neal hasn’t regained consciousness and Gregory still maintains he doesn’t know who attacked him.”

  “I don’t know if I believe Gregory. Something isn’t right.”

  “You can say that again.”

  She sneezed and pulled a tissue from her jean pocket. Dabbing at her nose, she looked at him and saw concern in his eyes.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  She sniffed. “I think I’m getting a cold.”

  His brow creased as he walked toward her and gently put his hand on her forehead. “You’ve got a bit of a fever. Maybe you should take it easy today.”

  Dana shrugged. “Can’t keep me down for long. Besides, I’m a horrible patient. I can assure you that you don’t want to play nursemaid.”

  Marshall allowed his fingers to trail over her cheek in a tender caress. She reveled in the sensation. “How about playing doctor?”

  His sexy suggestion made her face fill with heat. “Why, Marshall, what a naughty boy you are.”

  He winked. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

  His drawl, combined with the heat in his eyes, almost made her wish she felt up to his suggestions. “Rain check? My head feels like a watermelon.”

  Gathering her into his arms, he pressed her head against his shoulder. “Of course.” He held her for several moments, and she enjoyed in the sweet care of his embrace. “And I’m sorry about yesterday.”

  “Sorry?” she asked, not wanting to assume he meant his reaction to her news about Frank.

  He pushed his fingers through her hair. “I wasn’t really angry yesterday when you told me about your relationship with Frank. I was confused and needed to sort out my feelings.”

  Relieved, she looked up at him. “I hope you know that in a committed relationship—any relationship with a man—I want complete honesty. I’d never betray the man I loved by getting involved with another man.”

  She knew right then she admitted something profound. Her willingness to tell him, to spit it all out right then made her feel terrified and powerful all at once. His expression, warm and tender, told her all she needed.

  “I realize you’re not like Eva and Helen, and last night I thought about that good and hard. I don’t want my relationship with you cluttered up by old baggage.” His tone, soft and reassuring, gave her new satisfaction. “Forgive me for even doubting you one moment?”

  She gave him a wicked smile. “I’d kiss you, but I don’t want to give you my cold.”

  “Bank it. I’ll make you pay up later. Let’s find you some cold medicine.”

  On the way to the hospital, Dana pushed the power window button and drew in the crisp morning breeze. Thunderheads reared over the mountains in the distance, threatening to converge on Macon by afternoon. Lovely. That’s all they needed. More storms. Unexpected tears backed up in her eyes. Too many things had happened since she’d come to Macon. The car wreck that destroyed Bertha, her stepcousins almost killed, her aunt’s house plagued by mysterious events and horny ghosts.

  She almost smiled. At least the ghosts would make good fodder in her next novel. She never gave it thought before, but she knew her experiences with Marshall would translate, someday, into good background for her work. She could relay on the page all the passion and love she’d discovered in his arms. Something deep inside her said it would be good stuff.

  Once at the hospital they found Aunt Lucille along with Logan in the waiting room.

  Logan filled them in. “Skeeter’s still up there with Gregory. I think if he waits him out he’ll learn something.”

  Dana hugged her aunt. “It’ll be all right. If anyone can get him to explain what happened, Marshall can.”

  “Don’t count on it,” Marshall said. “He’s not exactly the forthcoming type.”

  With that he marched away, Logan following behind.

  Aunt Lucille put her hand on Dana’s forearm and drew her down onto a hard, cold plastic chair. “What’s going on dear? You two look a little…different.”

  Dana didn’t know how to say it. Didn’t know if she could. How did you tell your aunt that you were doing the hunka chunka with a man? “Par for the course for him.”

  “I realize he’s one intense young man, but you can’t fool me. I know when something is going on.” Aunt Lucille’s face softened, her gaze scanning Dana with compassion and understanding that belied her reputation as eccentric. “You’re like a daughter to me. You can tell me anything.”

  “Well, last night I told him about Frank. The man I…the married man I knew a few years back.”

  Aunt Lucille’s brow creased in confusion, then cleared. “Oh, my.”

  “Yeah.” She elaborated, explaining Marshall’s initial reaction to the news, then his apology.

  “I remember you telling me about that other man. Nothing happened between you, though, did it?” Aunt Luc
ille asked.

  “A little something happened. I’m just lucky Marshall doesn’t think I’m scum.”

  Making a scoffing noise, her aunt took her hand and pressed it between her thin, cool fingers. “Now if that isn’t a load of bull hockey. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

  Between embarrassed and intrigued, Dana squeezed Aunt Lucille’s fingers, drawing comfort from her closeness. “How does he look at me?”

  Warmth filled Aunt Lucille’s eyes. “Like a man seriously, deeply in love.”

  Unwanted tears swamped Dana, and she sniffed. Reaching for a tissue in her handbag, she dabbed her eyes. “Getting a cold.”

  “Uh-huh.” Aunt Lucille’s expression said she understood all too well. “I can see that. I take it the teary eyes mean you’ve fallen for him too?”

  “I—” Dana choked up and two tears escaped.

  With a soft, reassuring noise, Aunt Lucille slipped her arm around Dana. “It’ll be all right. A man like Marshall doesn’t invest his heart lightly. He loves you.” She snapped her fingers. “And he won’t lose that love just like that. But I think I can explain why he reacted so strongly to hearing about Frank. Everyone knows his wife Helen had affairs.”

  “I know. That’s got to make a guy cautious about other relationships.”

  “Everyone makes mistakes in their past, my dear. He’s made mistakes too. He can’t judge you based on what happened with Eva and Helen.”

  Dana gazed out the window across the room at puffy clouds rising high in the west. “It’s all right. We did talk it out so there’s no misunderstanding.” After several moments of silence, Dana said, “We cured your bed, by the way.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t ask me how we did it, but…”

  Aunt Lucille’s slow grin made Dana smile. “Yes?”

  “We didn’t get a chance to play back the original tape of the ghosts. But I think we exorcised them anyway.” Dana ran the words together fast. “At least they seemed to let us know they liked the…uh…ritual.”

  “Ritual?”

  Her aunt’s wide-eyed innocent look made Dana smile and she started to laugh.

  Dawning understanding slipped over Aunt Lucille’s face. “You didn’t?” When Dana continued to laugh, Aunt Lucille’s mouth dropped open. “You did.”