Anne Marie Duquette
Page 27
Caro’s heart leapt with excitement. “Do you now?”
“Only if you understand one thing. I can’t change who I am or what I do. I can’t change that… that darkness inside me. I can only promise that I’ll never use it for anything except the pursuit of justice.”
“Well, Wyatt Earp Bodine, I’m kind of into truth and justice myself. Which is why—” her eyes grew dark with sadness “—I can’t leave my old life now for a new one in Tombstone.”
“I don’t expect you to, city girl.”
“Of course you do! You’re an elected official.”
“And my term expires in a few months.”
“Then what?” Caro ran her fingers through her hair. “I’m in Florida next week, and who knows where after that!”
“So, we’ll compromise. I’ll travel more—with you, of course—and you’ll travel less—staying right here at the Silver Dollar when you’re not on a case.”
Caro lifted her head.
“Neither of us has to give up our work, Caro. We just have to cut back. In fact, we have it easy.”
“Easy?” Caro echoed.
“Yes. We’re our own bosses. Do you like solving crimes seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year?”
“No, I don’t.” Caro thought of the numerous airline meals she had eaten, the airports that had all started to look the same, the anonymous hotel rooms. “I never took much time between jobs because… well, I never had a good reason to stay home. Never had anyone waiting for me.”
“You do now,” he said simply, taking her hands in his.
Could it really be that simple? “But what about your horses? Your ranch?”
“Luciano can easily run this place when I’m gone. And I’ll be home often enough to supervise the breeding program, take care of business and make love to my lady on my own land. No, change that.” He pulled her closer. “Make love to my wife on our own land.”
“Is that…is that… ?” Caro stammered.
“A proposal? Yes, ma’am, it is. I don’t intend for us to be separated again, so I’ve decided to tag along. Wherever you go is where I’ll hang my hat—if you’ll have me.”
Caro gasped. “You’d do that for me?”
“And for me. I’m doing it for purely selfish reasons. Maybe sometimes you’ll need a bodyguard. But you do need an assistant. I’m much more experienced than Marta Wenkert.”
He reached for her hand and gently pulled her closer.
Caro hesitated. “What about Morgan?”
“I already called my brother Virgil. He’ll be here tomorrow to take over running both the Silver Dollar and the Bar E. He’ll keep an eye on Morg and Hugh until they’re back to their old selves.”
“Your brother doesn’t mind?”
“No. He might even stand in for me as sheriff until the elections.”
“But what about your ranch? What about the gold? Don’t you have to mine the gold to get the Silver Dollar out of hock?”
“Oh, I think I’ve got enough in the bank to finance our honeymoon. And I’ll take money on the hoof over money in the ground any day. Mining’s too much like work. As for Morgan and the ranch…”
Wyatt’s tender expression faded just a bit as he spoke. “Morgan’s sold all his diamonds back to the California wholesaler he purchased them from.”
“Oh, no! Won’t he take a big loss?”
“I’m afraid so. He’s put his jewelry store up for sale to cover the difference. He called me from the hospital this morning. As I understand it, some Native American jewelers have gone in together to purchase the place. That sale will put things square again, and cancel out the mortgage on his and Virgil’s share of the Silver Dollar.”
“But… that shop was Morgan’s dream!”
“I know. I told him to take his time about paying back the rest of the money. Virgil said the same thing. But Morgan said he made the mistake, so he’d correct it. And he has.”
“But why didn’t he just take over Kimberly’s mining oper—? Oh.” Caro stopped abruptly, remembering again how Kimberly had met her end. The mine would hold bad memories for all the Bodines.
“I’m sorry about your loss,” Caro said quietly. “I know you loved her, too.”
Wyatt acknowledged her sympathy with a curt nod, then moved on. “Enough about Morgan,” Wyatt ordered, dropping her hands to draw her into his arms. The tenderness returned to his manner. “Now…are you going to marry me or not?”
“Are you sure, Wyatt?”
“I’m free to go. If you’ll have me.”
Caro blinked. She couldn’t believe her good fortune—or her hesitation. Surely it can’t be this easy to trust someone with my body, my heart, my soul. Or can it?
“But you’ll have to keep leaving all this—” she gestured widely “—your family’s history, your way of life.”
“The Silver Dollar Ranch will always be there for us. It’s home,” he said simply. It always would be home; he would always love the land and the solid old house with its echoes of past Bodines. But he no longer needed a haven. His haven was her.
“Yes, but…” She stalled for more time. “Are we talking long-term commitment here? Forever?”
“Forever. You’ve seen the worst of me—”
“And the best,” she interrupted.
“You once told me that evil doesn’t frighten you.” Wyatt took her hand. “You also said you’d tell me what does frighten you, remember?”
“I remember.”
“I’m asking now, Caro. Tell me.” His eyes were soft, warm, inviting. Her own eyes filled with unfamiliar tears. This was love—a company of two. Knowing the best and the worst of each other. Accepting both. She could almost see the years of loneliness slip away.
“What frightens me is…” She took a deep breath. If I’m ever going to trust someone, now’s the time, and this is the man. “What frightens me is spending the rest of my life without you. If you aren’t proposing, then I am. Marry me, Sheriff.”
She had only a second to feel his heart beat faster, then she was crushed against his chest, her lips against his, her lonely heart finally at peace. When he drew back, she saw that his face was glowing with a radiance she’d never before inspired in another human being.
Did I do that? she wondered in amazement. Better check and see for sure. She pressed her mouth against his and placed her trust in his keeping.
They were interrupted by a shout. “Hey, none of that in public, you unmannerly youngsters! We’re a God-fearing, law-abiding town here!” It was Catfish. He and Marta were sitting in his truck across the road.
“Go find a minister!” Marta suggested loudly.
“Or rent a room!” Catfish suggested lewdly.
“Ignore them,” Wyatt murmured against Caro’s lips.
She did for another long kiss, then Wyatt released her.
“They’re right, you know. We’ll have to find a preacher real quick. Or a justice of the peace.”
“I like churches, Wyatt, but when? We can’t plan anything “ Caro’s face fell. “I have a plane to catch tomorrow night.”
“So soon?”
“Yes. I have to leave now. When will I see you again?”
Wyatt whistled, then gave Catfish a thumbs-up. Catfish nodded and went around to the back of his pickup truck.
“What’s he doing?” Caro asked.
“Getting my bags. I’ve already packed, said my goodbyes, got you an engagement ring. Morgan made it and he’s working on the wedding bands.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a jeweler’s box. “I hope you like Silver Dollar gold and diamonds.”
Caro started to melt at the sight of the box, then pushed him away to plant her hands on her hips. “Pretty sure of yourself, weren’t you?”
“That I love you, yes. That you’d love me back… well, I was afraid I’d come up aces and eights.”
“Huh?”
“It’s a losing hand in poker. And I didn’t want to lose you.”
“I don’t know ho
w to play poker, but don’t worry. You won’t lose me.” She took the box from his hand, slipped on the ring herself and let him gather her in his arms again. She kissed him hard.
“Just for that, Caro, my love, I may teach you to play poker.”
“Tonight?”
“If you want. What kind?”
Caro’s eyes sparkled devilishly. “How about strip poker?”
Wyatt shook his head. “Not until after the wedding.”
“No, before. Now!”
“I’m a traditional man. I want a license in my pocket and two rings on my wife’s finger.”
Caro looked shocked. “Wow. You really are traditional.”
“You have a problem with that?” he asked.
Caro smiled a slow, womanly smile. “This,” she stated succinctly, “is going to be worth the wait.”
“Hell, I hope so. But we’ll never find out if we don’t get moving.”
Caro watched Catfish drop the last of Wyatt’s luggage by her car. “Only if you’re really sure. I’m good at what I do, Wyatt. I don’t want to give it up.”
“So who’s asking you to? What, you think we country men just want our women barefoot and in the kitchen?”
“Don’t forget pregnant,” she added.
“I wouldn’t mind that sometime down the road, but it’s up to you. It’s your body.”
Caro couldn’t believe her ears. “I guess you’re not as traditional as I thought.”
“Wrong. I can be as possessive as the next guy.” Wyatt proved it by picking her up in his arms and carrying her to the car.
“What is this?” Caro shrieked. “Do I look like Scarlet O’Hara? Didn’t we have this conversation before? Wyatt, put me down!”
“Fine.” Wyatt placed her firmly back on the ground. “I’d better get to wear the pants in this family some of the time.”
“As long as it’s not in the bedroom,” Caro replied, her eyes shining with love and anticipation. She dug in her skirt pocket for her car keys, then paused before unlocking the door. “Wyatt…”
“Yes?”
“What did Jasentha say to you when we were looking for Morgan? The time she spoke in Apache so I couldn’t understand?”
Wyatt’s smile was slow and easy. “I guess I can tell you now. Jaz bet ten bucks that you’d be finding out if cowboys make love with their hats on before the year was out.”
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Do they?”
He gave her a sharp glance. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
“Fine.” Caro gave him a seductive glance. “Here are the keys. Why don’t you unlock my door and put your suitcases in the trunk?”
“Got it. You want me to drive?” He lifted one of her bandaged fingers to his lips and kissed it. “Maybe you should kick back, relax.”
“Sounds good, Sheriff.”
“You could call me something else, you know,” he suggested.
“You got it, stud.”
“Let’s just stick with Wyatt, shall we? I’ll go stow your gear.”
Caro giggled as she slid into the passenger seat and reached for her seat belt. The crinkling noise from her blazer pocket reminded her that she still had Marta’s envelope. Curiously, she pulled it out and tore it open.
A paper-clipped note covered the photo:
Dear Boss—Enclosed please find two pictures of Wyatt Earp. One is a reproduction of a rare photo of him in his youth, long before his handlebar mustache and lawman days. The other is better known. Thought you might want to keep them both. Best, Marta. P.S. I expect an invitation to the wedding!
Marta was wise in the ways of the heart, after all. Caro carefully removed the paper clip and the letter to expose the photos beneath. What she saw made her fingers shake; she dropped the letter on the floor.
Caro studied the photo in her hand. Despite the graininess of the black-and-white reproduction, the likeness of the young Wyatt Earp was clear. Caro jerked her head toward the rear window and stared at an identical face. It couldn’t be. According to all the history books, Wyatt Earp had no living descendants, no children by any of his three wives. And yet… yet… the face in the photograph was a dead ringer for Wyatt Earp Bodine.
Wyatt slammed the trunk shut, came around to the driver’s side and slid in. Caro still held both photos in her hand, her mouth agape, the envelope and letter still on the floor.
“More paperwork?” Wyatt asked.
Wordlessly Caro held out the photo of the younger Wyatt Earp. Wyatt Bodine barely flicked a glance at it before starting the car. “Oh, that.”
“You’ve seen this before?” Caro asked incredulously.
Wyatt shrugged. “This is Tombstone. Everyone’s seen Fly’s photos.”
“But you… he…”
Wyatt leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, then adjusted the driver’s seat and mirrors. “What’s the cruising speed on this car?” he asked.
“Around seventy miles an hour,” she replied in a shocked whisper.
“You like air-conditioning or fresh air?”
Caro couldn’t believe his questions. “Fresh air, but—”
“Then you’d better pick up your paperwork and photos or they’ll be flying out the window.”
Under his watchful gaze, she recovered the letter and the envelope, then slipped the two photos safely inside. Her eyes were wide, her heart pounded with excitement. “Are you going to tell me about this?”
A tiny smile played on his lips. “Maybe someday—when our first child is born.”
I can’t wait that long! she started to say. Then she stopped herself. “I can wait,” she said.
Now it was Wyatt’s turn to be surprised. “You can?”
“Sure.” She shifted to the center of the seat and laid her head on his shoulder. “You know why? Because I’ve got my hands on something better than family legends and old photos.”
Wyatt slung his arm around her shoulders. “Now what would that be?”
She pulled off his Stetson, tossed it into the back seat and ran her fingers through his hair.
“Don’t you know?” she asked tenderly just before she kissed him hard on the lips. “I caught the sheriff!”
eISBN 9781459281288
SHE CAUGHT THE SHERIFF
Copyright © 1996 by Anne Marie Duquette.
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