The Marshal Takes a Bride

by Renee Ryan

  As though he could physically protect Molly from the harsher realities of life, he hugged her hard against him, then looked up to find Mrs. Smythe watching him.

  “What can I do to help?” she asked. Her voice sounded brave, but Trey knew from the look in her eyes that she was eaten alive with worry.

  “Can you keep an eye on the children for us?”

  She nodded. “Of course. And I’ll make sure they eat something later. So, is Laney—” she cocked her head in the general direction of the stairs “—all right?”

  Molly whimpered into his shoulder. Trey gently rubbed the little girl’s back as he spoke. “I think so.”

  Making sure he spoke in generalities—for Molly’s sake—he gave the housekeeper details of what he’d seen in the room upstairs.

  “Well, sounds like everything’s right on schedule,” she said, relief hunching her shoulders forward. “I’ll handle the children from here.”

  Trey nodded, then went in search of Marc.

  He found his friend standing by the window in his study, staring at nothing in particular. Johnny stood against the wall on the other side of the room, shifting from foot to foot and looking miserable.

  “I’ve got it from here, kid,” said Trey. “The rest are outside, starting up a game of baseball.”

  Johnny’s eyes lit with satisfaction. “I’ll be the umpire.”

  Trey nodded. “Good idea.”

  Once they were alone, Trey was unsure what to say to alleviate Marc’s fears. They lived in a harsh world where good women sometimes died.

  Struggling to find words of assurance he didn’t have, Trey moved to the center of the room and sat down in one of the two wing-back chairs. He shifted Molly so she could sit more comfortably on his lap, then spoke softly to the little girl. “It’s going to be all right, kitten.”

  Marc turned, focused his gaze on Trey, then dropped it to Molly. Grimacing, he trudged over and ruffled the little girl’s hair. “You scared, too?”

  Molly’s lower lip trembled as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I don’t want her to die.”

  Marc flinched. “Me neither.”

  Trey lowered a kiss to the top of Molly’s head. “She’ll be all right.” He commanded Marc’s stare. “Laney’s strong.”

  Marc spun on his heel and started pacing through the room. “I should never have touched her.”

  Trey recognized the absurdity in his friend’s remark. “It’s the way of husband and wife. Regret now is useless.”

  With a sigh, Marc glanced out the window, turned on his heel and tossed his large frame into the chair next to Trey’s. He shut his eyes a moment, crossed himself and then looked toward heaven. “Dear merciful God, please protect my wife. Bring her through this safely.”

  Trey wanted to say his own prayer, but it had been so long. Would God still hear him?

  Please, God, don’t take Laney, too. Not today. Not yet.

  For a prayer, it wasn’t much, but it was all he could manage.

  Molly patted his hand and then settled back against him. Trey hugged her a little tighter than before.

  After a while, the screams slowed, then eventually stopped altogether. Unfortunately, the ensuing silence was far more frightening than the previous confusion and chaos had been. As the time continued to tick forward, with no word from upstairs, Trey’s mind drifted to the little girl who sat unmoving in his arms.

  So much trauma for one so young. Too much death.

  How could he be responsible for adding to her agony? And yet, how could he just walk away now?

  Wouldn’t that be just as bad?

  Molly relaxed her head against his shoulder and eventually dozed off. The moment Trey shut his own eyes, she stirred. With the resilience of youth, she hopped off his lap and grinned. “I think I’ll go play now.”

  Trey waved her on her way. “Have fun, kitten.”

  Just as Molly left through one door, Katherine burst through the other. She slanted Trey a quick, unreadable look, then turned to Marc.

  The other man jumped out of his chair. “How is she?”

  “Exhausted, but fine.” Katherine glided over to him and patted his cheek with affection. “Now go meet your daughter.”

  Marc slapped his fist into his palm. “A daughter! Did you hear that, Trey?”

  “I certainly did.”

  Grinning like a little boy, Marc darted out the door. Seconds later his footsteps pounded up the stairs.

  Katherine sighed after him. “I never thought I’d see the day when that man panicked like he did this morning.”

  Trey rested his hand on her shoulder. “He loves his wife.”

  Katherine turned back to him, tears swimming in her eyes. “And she loves her husband.”

  Now that he was finally alone with her, Trey had much he wanted to say, but all he could think about was how beautiful she looked in the fading light of the day. A tender feeling clutched his heart as he took in Katherine’s disheveled appearance.

  Without thinking too hard about what he was doing, he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly against him. “You did good work today.”

  After a moment of hesitation, she sighed and relaxed into him. “God was in the room, guiding us all.”

  He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he merely stroked her hair, reveling in her warmth, her strength. “You were amazing. So calm.”

  “Thank you, Trey. But let’s not forget, you played an important role as well.” She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. “Confusion ruled until you arrived.”

  “I’m glad I could help.”

  She chuckled. “I don’t know how you managed to get Marc out of the room.”

  “Simple.” He tightened his grip. “I used brute force.”

  She let out a long, happy sigh—one of those contented sounds that grabbed a man’s heart and twisted. For a second time in a week, she hadn’t shied away from him. Was she beginning to trust him?

  Stepping back, she stared into his eyes. “Laney asked for you, too.”

  Knuckling a black, meandering curl off her cheek, he said, “First we should talk. Katherine—”

  She pressed her fingertip against his lips. “No, Trey, not yet. Later. We’ll talk later. This is Laney’s moment, not ours.”

  He nodded and followed her up the stairs. Once they were back in the room, the tender mood of husband and wife immediately drew Trey’s attention. They sat together on the bed, smiling down at the bundle between them.

  Marc looked up first and motioned him forward. “Come on in, Trey.”

  Trey hesitated, struck impassive by the change in his friend. Cradling an armload of squirming blankets, the other man looked as contented as Trey had ever seen him. Marc Dupree had come a long way from the hardened man obsessed with making money, even at the expense of his own happiness.

  The startling transformation gave Trey a glimmer of hope that he, too, could change in time.

  “Take a look at my daughter, old friend.” The pride shining in Marc’s eyes was unmistakable.

  Trey edged closer, but with each step, a strange feeling of loss and a sense of new beginnings wrestled against one another inside him. With heavy steps, he maneuvered around the side of the bed.

  Laney smiled up at him then, her eyes radiating peace and joy. Even in her exhaustion, she looked lovely. It was hard to reconcile this new vision with the desperate woman who had wanted his gun a few hours earlier.

  Still grinning, she nudged her husband with her shoulder. “Let Trey hold her.”

  Marc pulled his arm from behind his wife. Holding his child with both hands, he lifted her toward Trey. “You have to hold her like this.”

  He demonstrated by cradling the baby in one arm and cupping a palm beneath the impossibly tiny head.

  Hands trembling, Trey stepped back. “She’s too small. I’ll hurt her.”

  Laney chuckled. “Any creature that can put me through that much torture is not as fragile as she looks.”

  Reluc
tantly, he took the child, careful to support her head just as Marc had shown him. At the feel of the gentle weight in his arms, a tangle of emotions locked together in his throat, then sank to his gut and churned.

  He’d spent the past four years focusing on death. Now, as he held this perfect little creature, he knew he stared into the beautiful face of life.

  “She’s perfect,” he said, noting the mahogany hair, upturned nose and long lashes. “Looks just like her mother.”

  He studied the infant further, taking in the stubborn tilt of the baby’s chin. “And her father.”

  Marc peered over Trey’s shoulder, placed a hand on the tiny head. “We’re naming her Laurette.”

  Unprepared for the declaration, a pall of bleak silence trudged across Trey’s soul. He couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in his eyes, didn’t want to stop them.

  Blurry-eyed, he looked down into Laney’s smiling face. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded her head at him, answering tears falling quickly down her cheeks. “God has blessed us with this new life today, and because of His generosity, there’s no other name I would want for her.”

  “Thank you,” Trey whispered.

  Marc clutched his shoulder. “This is for all of us, my friend. It’s time we started looking ahead, instead of behind.”

  Trey swallowed, unable to wrap his brain around the notion. But then blue, unfocused eyes blinked up at him, and the pain in his chest slowly subsided, as though the grip of grief that had clutched his heart for too many years was finally loosening. Just a little.

  The baby gurgled at that moment. Inside that tiny sound, the past separated from the future, leaving only the joy of the moment.

  Was it truly time to let go and look ahead?

  Drawn by a force he didn’t quite understand, he turned and linked gazes with Katherine. She smiled at him, her beauty heightened by the tears and acceptance flickering in her eyes.

  In that moment, Trey knew he had to try.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Katherine didn’t belong here. This was a moment for family, and as much as she’d like to think she was part of this tight-knit clan, she didn’t have their shared history.

  Feeling like an intruder, she shifted her gaze around the room. She caught sight of Dr. Bartlett looking at her, staring at her, really. He quickly broke eye contact, turned to watch Trey holding the baby, and then, just as swiftly, looked back at Katherine with such curious intensity in his eyes she felt a sudden urge to run.

  Dr. Bartlett had never made her feel uncomfortable before. She took it as her cue to leave the room.

  With careful steps, she silently slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her. Knotted muscles caused her to wince as she staggered down the hallway. Drawing in a shuddering sigh, she stepped into her own room, calmly shut the door, then collapsed against it. Ugly, bleak loneliness dug deep, throbbing in a painful rhythm within her chest.

  She knew she was being selfish. She should be helping Mrs. Smythe with the children, not wallowing in her sadness. Yet her feet wouldn’t budge.

  Leaning her head against the door, she squeezed her eyes shut. Unfortunately, there was no sanctuary to be found behind her lids.

  She shouldn’t be disturbed by the emotions she’d seen in Trey’s eyes. Loss, acceptance and finally love. She’d witnessed a man beginning the process of letting go of the past. But now that he’d taken the first step, she was suddenly terrified about what the end result would mean to her.

  Was she holding back from him because of his badge? Or was it a deeper fear? Was she afraid he’d compare her to his dead wife and find her unworthy? Did she fear his rejection more than his abandonment?

  Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see…

  Panic climbed into her throat as the Scripture came to mind. Katherine had been lying to herself all these weeks. She wasn’t a strong, believing Christian. In truth, she had no faith when it came to her own future.

  And just as Trey had accused of her, she was afraid. Afraid of his rejection. Afraid one day he’d see her like the rest of the town did, as nothing more than the daughter of a whore, and as a woman forever tainted by one violent act.

  No. She countered that absurd notion with a stamp of temper. “Trey doesn’t deserve this kind of censure. I will not think like this.”

  Maybe it was time to walk by faith and not by sight. Maybe it was time to give Trey Scott a chance to be the man she knew he could be in time and with God’s healing.

  Shoving away from the door, she quickly washed and changed her clothes. Too tired to fool with her hair, she merely brushed out the tangles and let it hang loose down her back.

  For a moment, she felt better, stronger, but as she jammed her feet into her boots and went to work on the laces, she thought back over the scene she’d witnessed in Laney’s room.

  Both Trey and Marc had received the birth of the tiny child as the blessing it was. They were such good men. Each destined to command his family with honor, integrity and deep, abiding love.

  Why didn’t she feel joy at the revelation?

  Because Katherine wasn’t convinced Trey would ever love her enough, not the way Marc loved Laney. Not the way Trey still loved his dead wife.

  On shaky legs, she rose from the bed and dashed out of the room. Avoiding the other end of the hallway—and the people behind that closed door—she trekked downstairs. Needing to gather her thoughts into some semblance of order, she veered toward the front porch, then slipped out of the house.

  And nearly collided into Trey.

  She froze, afraid to disturb him, afraid to turn away.

  Seemingly unaware of her presence, he stood with his back to her, tense and unmoving. His turmoil was palpable, and she wept inside for him. At the sight of him standing there, looking so alone and sad, a crack in her heart opened, allowing him to fill it for just a moment before she slammed it shut again with a sigh.

  He turned at the sound. In one swift movement, he caught her against his chest. Without speaking, he dropped a kiss on the top of her head, the tender gesture breaking her heart a little more. Oh, yes, this man had so much love to give. If only she knew how to trust him with her heart.

  She pulled away, then stared up at him. His gaze softened, his eyes communicating something she couldn’t quite name—didn’t dare name. Out of a perverse need to gain perspective, she lowered her eyes to the tin star on his chest. She tried reminding herself he was a lawman. But, tonight, the dangers of his chosen profession didn’t matter so much.

  Returning her gaze to his, she raised herself onto the tips of her toes and pressed a kiss to his chin. “Trey—”

  “Take a walk with me.”

  Feeling suddenly vulnerable, she inched backward, shaking her head.

  “Please.”

  The genuine appeal in his eyes called to the part of her that could deny this man nothing. She knew he was hurting, knew he needed her in a way she didn’t quite understand. She could no more walk away from him now than cut off one of her limbs. And in that moment, Katherine accepted the truth. She was beginning to care deeply for Trey Scott—a man who would continually come and go from her life, one day never to return.

  He would break her heart. And Molly’s.

  Yet Katherine still yearned for him to find peace above her own selfish fears. She wanted him to experience the freedom in Christ that she had. She wanted him free from pain. And whether he was in her life or not, she wanted him to find true happiness.

  Oh, Lord, give me the courage to face these new, frightening feelings. I’m so vulnerable to him right now.

  Silently, carefully, she placed her hand in his. Smiling, he drew her down the stairs with him. He smelled of a tangy blend of spice and wood, a scent that would always linger in her mind as his alone.

  As they walked side by side, his nearness attacked the doubt clutching at her heart, making her believe—for one small second—that being with Trey was the best thing
that would ever happen to her in this life.

  Fearful she would blurt out her feelings, Katherine started to turn back, but the gentle touch to her arm stopped her.

  “Mrs. Smythe can take care of the children,” Trey said. “I need you to walk with me.”

  His eyes told her he needed much more than that from her.

  Katherine’s heart rolled around in her chest, pounded violently against her ribs. “I…Yes.”

  He waited until she drew back alongside him before striding again down the lane. Clasping his hands behind his back, he walked at a leisurely pace. Light from the other mansions illuminated their path. The slender beam of the waning moon glowed small but bright, the stars especially brilliant in the dark fabric of the sky.

  They continued to walk in silence, and she reveled in the smooth camaraderie that arose between them. No arguing, no wheedling, just comfortable serenity.

  They ambled past the mansions and on to the outskirts of town. Only the stars and moon provided light now, the mountains standing guard, as though protecting them against the fierce enemies of the world.

  Trey looked to the heavens, took a deep breath, then turned back to her. “The quiet is nice.”

  “Quiet?” She chuckled and spread her arms to the sky, sniffing the refreshing, subtle fragrance of the spicy mountain air. “The pine trees are snapping and crackling in the wind. The crickets are singing. I can barely hear myself think.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She turned to him, waited for his eyes to lower to hers again. “Yes, I do.”

  Pulling a strand of her hair away from her face, he twirled the dark curl around his forefinger. “You’ve had a long day.”

  She sighed, barely resisting the urge to lean into him. “It was terrifying, but exciting, too.”

  Studying her face with the same intensity she’d seen in him when he’d stared at the baby, he released her hair, then dragged a knuckle down her cheek. “You didn’t look scared. You looked in complete control.”

  She let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Oh, I’m a master at exuding confidence when I least feel it. Comes from teaching eager minds with too many questions I can’t always answer.”