The Marshal Meets His Match

by Clari Dees

  She broke off on a sobbed breath and another tear wet her cheek. Wyatt dug out his handkerchief. He leaned over and ever so gently blotted her cheeks.

  Watery brown eyes met and clung to his. “Thank you.” The words were so quiet he saw rather than heard them. He nodded and pressed the handkerchief into her hand.

  She sniffed. “When we realized just how ill she was, I starting praying like I’d never prayed before, but one night, she slipped away. Faither was beside himself. I stayed strong for him even though the only world I’d ever known was shattered. When he started healing, he wanted to talk about her, but the only way I could cope was not to think about her. The better Faither got, the angrier I became. The morning before he was shot, he simply mentioned her on the way into town, and I nearly snapped his head off.” She ducked her head. “I was feeling guilty about that and running away from another of Mrs. Van Deusen’s matchmaking attempts when I ran into you. I’m sorry I took it out on you.”

  Wyatt covered the hand that was gripping the arm of the rocker with his own. Her eyes flew up and met his. “I’m tough. You didn’t hurt me. You just very effectively grabbed my attention.”

  “I didn’t mean to.” Her cheeks went pink, and her eyes widened. “I mean…”

  He smiled and squeezed her hand. “I know what you mean. You caught me by surprise, too. I had a plan, I had a dream and I wasn’t going to pursue a woman until I had those accomplished.”

  He heard her quick intake of breath before she spoke. “Are…are you pursuing me?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Wyatt grinned. “Yes, ma’am, but if you have to ask, I must be going about it all wrong.”

  Her hand had been curled over the arm of the rocker when his own had covered it. Now, however, she turned her hand until it was actually holding his, and he felt the pulse in her wrist racing madly. She cleared her throat. “No. You’re not.”

  Wyatt’s heart swelled at her shy glance, and for a moment, there was no need for any words to fill the silence.

  “What is your dream?” She shifted slightly in the chair to face him better and grimaced a little.

  “Are you hurting?” He was a cad for keeping her out here so long. She was injured.

  “Sit down. I’m fine. I just rubbed against the back of the chair a little too hard.”

  He hadn’t realized he’d stood, but he hovered over her for a long minute to make sure she was really okay before he sat back down. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable inside?”

  “No. Now quit dodging the question. What is your dream?” A smile softened the order.

  He grinned right back. Did she have any idea how much she’d changed his dream? “I’ve long wanted a place of my own to raise good-quality horses—mix Charger’s speed and bloodlines with some of these tough Western horses like your Sandy to produce a line that has both speed and endurance.” It seemed so small compared to what he wanted now. He scooted his rocking chair closer to hers and reached for her hand again. “And maybe raise a family of my own.”

  She looked out across the front yard, her fingers tightening around his. “That’s a nice dream. Do you have a particular place picked out yet?” A slight tinge to her cheeks belied the casual-sounding question.

  Wyatt rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “No. I’m still looking.” His eyes traced her profile. He could easily look at her all day.

  She took a deep breath. “There’s good horse land around here.” She glanced toward him and just as quickly glanced away again. “And Franks could get you started with a couple of good mares.” She paused slightly. “If you’re interested.” Her shy uncertainty was endearing and encouraging.

  “I’m very interested.” In everything about her.

  Meri twisted to face him, her eyes bright with cautious hope. “You are?”

  Wyatt smiled and nodded. “Any place you’d recommend?”

  Her face lit up, and she immediately began to list the good and bad points of various pieces of land, growing more animated the longer she talked. She attempted once to pull her hand away to emphasize a point, but he kept his grasp until it nestled back down.

  His heart busy with plans, Wyatt relaxed into his chair, content for the moment to enjoy the expressive face of his new dream.

  * * *

  Meri twirled in front of the mirror for a final inspection, the skirt of the new dress flaring softly around her slim high-button shoes. Mother-of-pearl combs held her hair off her face, the length falling in soft waves down the back of a green calico dress sprinkled with tiny yellow flowers. She’d picked the fabric because the colors reminded her of the green-and-gold flecks in Wyatt’s eyes while making her own hair gleam with golden highlights, and the cut flattered her figure with its slim bodice and full skirt.

  “Hurry up, lass. We’ll be late if ye don’t quit fussin’.”

  Meri quickly pinned on a little straw confection of a hat, barely acknowledging the small twinge when her shoulder protested the movement. Picking up her Bible, reticule and lace parasol, she hurried from the room and down the stairs to her father and the awaiting buggy.

  It had been a month since Meri had returned home, and Wyatt had ridden out to the ranch every subsequent Saturday afternoon. They would play checkers, stroll around the ranch, or as Meri healed, venture farther afield on horseback. On Sundays Wyatt would meet them at the church door, and he’d become an expected fixture in the McIsaac pew.

  Meri smiled, admiring the lace-patterned shade the parasol cast over her skirt as the buggy rolled toward town and Sunday services. It was all frills and femininity, and she loved it. Because every time she went for a stroll with Wyatt, he insisted on carrying it. Which meant she had to walk very close to him.

  The days stretched long during the week after seeing Wyatt on Saturday and Sunday, and she quickly found that absence truly did make her heart grow fonder. Occasionally Wyatt would make it out for supper during the week, but as she had resumed riding Sandy, her path somehow always wound up heading into Little Creek and the marshal’s office.

  Meri fingered the fabric of her dress. The mercantile and dressmaker had certainly benefited from her frequent trips to town, and she had the new dresses to show for it. Her feminine vanity had come to life with a belated vengeance.

  Wyatt was waiting to assist her from the buggy, and he escorted her inside the church building. The service flew by with Meri endeavoring to pay attention to the music and sermon instead of Wyatt’s nearness. Closing her eyes, she focused her wandering attention on the verses the pastor had read instead of the arm laid casually along the back of the pew, just brushing her shoulders.

  Thank You, Lord, that You defend us and that Your joy is our strength. Thank You for defending me against the evil intentions of Mr. Samuels, for showing me that I am not strong when I try to stand on my own, but I am strong when You are my strength. Help me to remember joy isn’t found in my circumstances, it’s found only in You. Wyatt shifted, turning her attention back to him. Father, I’m in love with this man, and I think he loves me. Would You give us wisdom, and if he does love me, would You remind him that he hasn’t told me?

  “Amen.”

  Meri’s eyes flew open in surprise as Wyatt’s voice uttered the single word. Had she spoken aloud? No. The congregation was standing, gathering their belongings and chatting with one another. Service was over.

  Wyatt grabbed her hand and hustled her toward the back door. After greeting the pastor, he hurried her outside to the buggy. Hands spanning her waist, he lifted her onto the seat.

  “Where’s the fire?” Meri asked, amused as he loosed the horses from the hitching rail before climbing into the buggy. “Wait, this isn’t Faither’s buggy.”

  “Nope.” Reaching behind him, he pulled out Meri’s parasol, opened it and handed it to her.

  She took it and glanced curiously at the uncommunicative man beside her, but he ignored her silent question. She’d left the parasol under the seat of her father’s buggy before serv
ices started and hadn’t seen him or Faither move it.

  Wyatt guided the horses around the other conveyances parked about the churchyard, clucking to them as they turned onto the road. Meri looked back at the church building as the horses broke into a quick-stepping trot. They’d departed the building so quickly no one else had exited the doors yet; everyone was still inside visiting.

  “This could be considered kidnapping, you know,” she said seriously, hoping to get an explanation out of him.

  “It would be, if your father didn’t know my plans.”

  “Aha. So you had a conspirator in your nefarious schemes.” She twisted on the seat to see him better, her back brushing the armrest.

  “Yup.”

  The man made Mr. Van Deusen look like a blabbermouth. “May I know what your plans are?”

  “Nope.”

  “I must warn you, I get very hungry when I’m kidnapped. I hope you brought food.” She twirled her parasol and watched it spin over her head.

  “Been kidnapped often?”

  “Dozens of times, but they always brought me back and told Faither I ate too much.”

  Wyatt had kept both hands on the reins, looking steadily down the road and keeping a straight face at her foolishness, but now he shifted the reins to one hand. His free hand snaked around her waist and pulled her up against him on the bouncing buggy seat.

  “That’s better. Can’t have you so far away you think you can escape.”

  Meri loved riding Sandy alongside Wyatt and Charger, racing each other or merely exploring together the past few weeks, but a buggy ride had its own distinct charm. Especially when a handsome lawman had his arm wrapped around you.

  Silence surrounded them as the scenery rolled by, but she was more absorbed in the delightful sensations caused by her traveling companion than the passing landscape. They headed in the direction of the ranch, but before they reached the rise that allowed them to see the ranch buildings, Wyatt turned the horses off onto a trail that climbed gradually to a high meadow. The sun was shining brightly and butterflies were busily flitting around the wildflowers dotting the large expanse of open ground.

  Wyatt pulled the team to a stop under the trees that fringed the edge alongside a cool, clear stream. Hopping down, he turned and reached for Meri, swinging her to the ground easily. “Would you care to have a picnic with me?” He reached into the back of the buggy and held up a large picnic basket.

  Meri looked around slowly and grinned. “Well…since I’m hungry and since you seem to be the only other person around…I suppose I’ll have a picnic with you.”

  Wyatt’s eyes danced. “I appreciate your kindness. If you’ll give me a couple of minutes to tend to the horses, we’ll eat.”

  He set the basket down and moved to the horses. Unhitching them, he led them to the water for a long drink, hobbled them and turned them out on the grass to graze. Retrieving the basket, along with a thick quilt, he offered his arm to Meri and led her farther up the sloped meadow to a large, shady tree that stood magnificently alone in the center of the field.

  Meri helped him spread the quilt and sat down, legs curled to the side. “I’ve always loved this spot.”

  “That’s what your father said.”

  “He knows we’re here?”

  “I didn’t tell him specifically, but he probably guessed.”

  He busied himself filling two plates with delicious-looking pieces of fried chicken, sliced cheese, fresh tomatoes, pickles, biscuits and cold baked beans. She accepted the food and cup of lemonade he handed her, closing her eyes when he offered a quick blessing. They hungrily dug into their food; comfortable silence highlighted by the sounds of trickling water in the distance and birds flitting back and forth over their heads.

  Meri thought back to her prayer in church; at the rate they were going, there would be no confession of feelings today. In all the times they’d been together recently, she’d never seen him this quiet and enigmatic. She finished her food and set the plate aside.

  “Dessert?”

  “Not right now, thank you.” She watched, fascinated, as Wyatt refilled his plate and continued eating. Where did he find room for it all? There wasn’t an ounce of spare flesh anywhere on the man.

  When he finished, he set his plate aside and flopped back, head cradled on his crossed arms. He closed his eyes and let out a satisfied groan. “That tasted good.”

  “It did. You’re a man of many skills, Marshal,” Meri teased, standing to her feet to put some distance between herself and the man who overloaded her senses just by his very presence.

  One eye slid open lazily. “I thought we settled this.”

  “Settled what?” Meri feigned innocence and didn’t wait for an answer but turned to stroll across the meadow.

  A growl sounded. She looked over her shoulder to see him surge to his feet quicker than she thought should have been possible. She was running before she realized what she was doing, pulse racing harder than her feet when she heard him drawing closer. Changing directions unexpectedly, she managed to evade him, lifting the hem of her skirt to keep it from tangling around her ankles and wishing she were wearing her much more practical split skirt.

  Feeling him behind her, she darted to the side again, but he was anticipating it, and muscular arms closed like steel bands around her. She emitted a surprised squeak and stumbled to a rather ungraceful halt. She tried to step away but the arms refused to yield their captive. He turned her to face him.

  Heart racing and breath coming in quick little gasps, she looked up into his face.

  “I can’t have you running away with my heart if you can’t remember my name. You just might forget you even have it, and then where would I be?” He held her loosely, but there was no escaping the arms that enfolded her, or the eyes that devoured hers.

  “Do I still have it?” she whispered. Her eyes fastened on an eye-level shirt button.

  The sinewy bands around her tightened, drawing her inexorably closer, and she braced her hands against an expanse of rock-hard chest.

  “Ah, Meri,” he crooned. “Don’t you know I love you? You irretrievably have my heart whether you want it or not. I’m just hoping you do.” One hand came up to lift her head, knuckles lightly grazing her chin as his thumb caressed her jawline.

  “You love me?” She thought she uttered the words, but his hand on her face was causing her heart to do all sorts of acrobatics, and she wasn’t at all sure her tongue was still in proper working order.

  “Didn’t you realize I love you? I said you had my heart.” One hand caressed the wavy hair hanging down her back.

  “I wasn’t sure…I mean…I hoped so, but you didn’t say it…specifically… I don’t know. I guess I’m pretty naive when it comes to things like this.” Meri ducked her burning face and leaned her head into his chest to hide from his keen eyes.

  Both arms enveloped her and held her close, the silence allowing her to hear the steady thump of his heart. “Well?”

  Meri felt the vibration of the low question rumble through his chest. Captivated, she waited for it to happen again.

  He shook her a little. “I’m waiting.”

  “Hmm?” She wanted to place her ear to his chest and hear that interesting rumble again.

  His hands shifted to her arms, and he nudged her back a step, leaning down slightly to peer into her eyes. “Do you?”

  She smiled into his eyes. “Yes. I love you.” It felt as wonderful to say the words as to hear them.

  They were barely out of her mouth when he hauled her back to his chest. She fully anticipated a kiss, but he only tucked her head under his chin and held her tight as a gusty sigh of relief escaped him. “Thank You, Lord!”

  Meri’s heart mirrored his prayer of thanksgiving. He loved her. Her arms tightened around his waist as she smiled and inhaled the scent that was Wyatt Cameron.

  She was abruptly pushed back, and hazel eyes peered intently into hers. “I have a solution.”

  “For what?”


  “For remembering my name. Permanently.”

  Her breath froze. He sank to one knee and gathered her hands in his. “Miss America Catriona McIsaac, would you change your name to mine?”

  Tears sprang to her eyes, and she hastily blinked them away so she could see his face clearly. She wanted to remember this moment. “Yes.” The answer barely whispered past her lips.

  He looked at her with hopeful uncertainty. “You’ll marry me?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “I’ll marry you.” That came out a little stronger.

  A huge smile lit his face, and he stood, gathering her tenderly in his arms. Her hands slipped up to his shoulders. “Wait.” He leaned back slightly. “Yes, I’ll marry you, what?”

  She smiled a bit mistily. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Thank you for asking.”

  “That’s not quite what I had in mind.” He leaned in and placed a tiny kiss on her nose.

  Breathing was highly overrated. “Did you not want me to say yes?”

  “You little minx. Of course I wanted you to say yes. But who are you saying yes to?”

  She circled his neck with her hands, sliding her fingers into his closely cropped hair. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Wyatt Cameron.”

  A huge smile bloomed across his face and took what little breath Meri had left. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

  His eyes caressed her face, and she rose up on tiptoes to meet him halfway. He leaned down and settled his lips against hers in a first kiss. The world rocked and then stood still and silent except for the sound of each other’s heartbeats. Wyatt tightened his grip and straightened, lifting Meri off her feet as he continued kissing her.