Texas Lawman

by Carolyn Davidson

  “Are they cut from the same cloth as Lester?” Brace asked, but his frown seemed to assume that to be a ready-made conclusion.

  “I’ve never met them, but I suspect he’ll get as much help from them as they can offer,” she told him. “He can’t run off with Stephen, can he?”

  “He won’t be doing that,” Brace told her. “The judge won’t allow it.”

  “There’s no guarantee of that,” Sarah said sadly. “He has no idea of what Lester’s like, or what he’s likely to do to Stephen.”

  “I think the doctor’s testimony will bear fruit,” Brace said. “Let’s wait and see.”

  Chapter Seven

  Judge Bennett was a stern-looking man, dressed in a dark suit, his features harsh, as if hewn from stone, except for a moment when he looked down at Stephen and his face softened. The boy sent a quick glance in the magistrate’s direction and then whispered to Sarah in an undertone.

  “He looks nice, don’t he?”

  “Do you think so?” Sarah asked.

  “Yeah. He kinda smiled at me.”

  But the visage the man presented to Brace was that of a man well equipped to settle the hash of anyone who crossed him. “What seems to be the problem, Sheriff?” he asked sharply. “I heard from—” he looked at a paper before him “—from Lester Clark this morning that you’ve taken custody of his son without cause.”

  “I suspect that depends on your viewpoint, sir,” Brace said respectfully. “It was obvious that the boy had been abused, and the father showed no signs of the concern a boy that age deserves.” Brace looked over at Stephen, who wiggled his way a bit closer to Sarah.

  “Stephen is a child. He wants to stay with his aunt, and has instead been taken from the grandparents’ family home, where he’d lived after his mother’s death, to travel under less than ideal circumstances with his father.” Brace paused again and placed a sheaf of papers before the judge.

  “I’d like to appeal to the court to allow his aunt full custody.”

  “That’s against the law!” Lester rose hurriedly, knocking his chair over as he rose, his face crimson with anger, his hands clenched at his sides.

  The judge peered at him calmly. “Sit down, Mr. Clark. I’ll set the standards here.”

  Brace stepped closer to the well-used table he’d borrowed from the saloon, which was serving as the makeshift bench. “I’d like to call Stephen Clark to testify, sir,” he said quietly. At his words, the man nodded at Stephen and extended a hand.

  “Come up here and talk to me, boy,” he said kindly.

  Stephen rose and shot a quick glance at Sarah, as if asking permission, and she nodded and brushed his cheek with her fingers. Without a look in Lester’s direction the boy stood before the judge.

  “Sit in this chair,” the man directed and Stephen complied, perching on the edge of the seat. “Now, why don’t you tell me about this whole thing?” Judge Bennett asked. “Where was your father taking you when you stopped in Benning?”

  “I don’t know,” Stephen answered softly. He cleared his throat and seemed to search for words. “He said we might find Aunt Sarah again but that his family would give us a place to live from now on.”

  “Do you know his family?” the judge asked, leaning back in his chair.

  Stephen shook his head. “But,” he confided, shooting a glance at Lester, “if they’re anything like my pa, I don’t want to live with them.”

  “And why is that?” White brows lowered as the magistrate gave his full attention to Stephen.

  “Pa is kinda…” Stephen halted, as if fearful of saying too much.

  “Is he mean to you?” his questioner asked.

  Lester stood up again. “I’m his pa. I have the right to make him behave. Sometimes boys need a heavy hand.”

  “Sit down, Mr. Clark,” the judge said sternly. “I’ll listen to you in a minute.”

  “You can’t take a child’s word against his parent,” Lester muttered loudly. “The boy has been spoiled by his aunt, and needs to be taken in hand.”

  Stephen visibly shrank in the chair, his trembling lips making it difficult for him to speak. “He hits me sometimes,” he said, his words quivering as they left his mouth.

  “Do you deserve it?” the judge asked, and then shot a warning glance at Sarah as she would have risen. She sank back onto the bench she occupied and attempted a smile in Stephen’s direction.

  “I try to be good,” Stephen answered. “I just want to be with my aunt Sarah and the sheriff. They got married, and he’s gonna be my new daddy.”

  “I see,” the judge said slowly. And then looking at Brace, he allowed a smile to form. “Covering every possibility, were you?” he asked. “A ready-made family for the lad sounds like just the ticket.”

  “He’s my son,” Lester said boldly.

  “I’d rather live with the sheriff and my aunt,” Stephen said mournfully. “We got a nice house to live in, and Aunt Sarah cooks real good.”

  “Pretty handy, finding a man to marry you,” Lester said snidely, glaring in Sarah’s direction.

  The judge cleared his throat and allowed Stephen to go back to the bench beside Sarah. Lester Clark was called forward and spoke his piece, emphasizing his concern for his son, and his plans for them to live in west Texas with his family.

  The judge asked several pointed questions, and then leaned back in his chair. “I’d like to speak privately with the boy, and then the aunt. I’ll make a decision shortly.”

  Brace rose and cleared his throat. Judge Bennett looked at him expectantly and waited. “Perhaps Your Honor would read the doctor’s statement first,” Brace suggested.

  “I intend to, Sheriff Caulfield,” the man replied, sorting through the papers before him. With but a glance at the document, he looked at Lester, his gaze sharp, his eyes cold. “I’ll peruse this a bit longer in a few minutes, but it seems pretty conclusive.”

  With a signal from his index finger he urged Stephen from his spot on the bench and rose from his own seat at the table. “The boy and I will be back very shortly,” he said, directing his words at Sarah. She nodded and cast a smile at Stephen, and he wiggled his fingers at her in a farewell, then walked beside the judge from the room.

  Lester stood and inhaled deeply, obviously intent on speaking his mind. Brace shook his head at him.

  “One word and you’ll be in a cell,” he warned him. “Just sit down and wait for the man to return.”

  It was a long ten minutes before Sarah’s name was called and she rose to follow the clerk who’d signaled her. He led her down a corridor and into a room holding several chairs, one of which the judge occupied. With a wave of his hand, he included her in his conversation with Stephen.

  “I understand your nephew is adamant about staying with you, Mrs. Caulfield. He’s been very specific on that point.” The man smiled, but his eyes scrutinized Sarah and she felt his judgment weigh heavily on her.

  “Yes, sir,” she answered. “My sister, before she died, was set on extracting a promise from me to look after Stephen, should anything happen to her.”

  “And you think her death was not as presented to me by Mr. Clark?”

  “If I may speak to you alone, Your Honor,” Sarah began haltingly, “I’d like to elaborate on that.”

  “Certainly.” With a nod of his head, he dismissed Stephen from the room. “Wait in the hallway for us, young man,” he directed the boy, and with a lingering look in Sarah’s direction, Stephen left the room.

  In a few short sentences Sarah gave her version of Sierra’s death, telling of her suspicions where Lester was concerned, and spoke of her own part in the situation. “I knew that Stephen would be in peril if I didn’t catch up to him,” she said fervently. “I was fearful of what Lester had planned for him. He’s always been too willing to punish the boy, whether or not Stephen was deserving of it. He wore bruises from the time he was but a baby. Sierra tried her best to defend him, but Lester had her terrified.”

  “And h
e doesn’t frighten you?” the judge asked.

  “Not anymore,” Sarah said boldly. “Brace has promised to look after Stephen, and I think he’s capable of handling Lester.”

  “And you married Sheriff Caulfield in order to gain custody of your nephew?”

  Sarah felt a blush climb her cheeks. “No, sir, not entirely. I love Brace. With or without Stephen in the picture, I’d have married him anyway.”

  “I believe you, young lady,” the judge said kindly. “Now, let’s go back to our makeshift courtroom and see what sort of decisions we can come up with.”

  Lester blustered and fussed loudly, but his arguments did him no good. The judge was determined that his word should be final, and with happiness etched on her face Sarah listened to the words he spoke.

  “The boy will remain with his aunt and Sheriff Caulfield, and the father shall have visiting privileges under the court’s jurisdiction. He may stay here in town and see his son twice a week for the next month.”

  “That’s not even legal,” Lester said harshly, rising and turning his anger on Sarah. “She’s got the sheriff bamboozled, and you, too,” he said.

  “You’d better watch your mouth, sir,” Judge Bennett told him. “My word is law here, and you’re about halfway into a jail cell right now.”

  Lester was silent, his hands twitching at his sides, watching his son and Sarah with venomous intent. Stalking past them, he left a final threat behind. “You haven’t heard the last of this,” he muttered blackly. “I always win.”

  Stephen shuddered and clasped Sarah’s hand as if it were a lifeline. “What can he do?” he asked.

  “Brace will take care of us,” Sarah assured him staunchly. Yet her heart beat rapidly as she considered the man who represented all that was cruel and vile. He barely gave the judge a glance as he went from the room, jamming his hat on carelessly.

  “I’ll set up visitation for the father,” Brace told Judge Bennett. “I’m assuming he’ll still be staying at the hotel.”

  “Watch your back,” Judge Bennett told him. “I’ll return next month to make a final decision on this.”

  “Yes, sir,” Brace said. “We’ll be looking forward to it.”

  “Now what?” Sarah asked softly, grasping Stephen’s hand in hers. The boy clung to her silently, his eyes large as he watched the judge leave just a few steps behind Lester.

  “Now we go home and try to live a normal life,” Brace said. “We allow Lester to see Stephen in my office twice a week for the next month, and the rest of the time we work on being a family.”

  “You make it sound so simple,” Sarah told him, doubt tingeing her words.

  “Nothing that really matters is ever simple,” Brace said. “And this really matters. To all of us. We’ll just take it one day at a time and make a home together.”

  A chill of foreboding ran the length of Sarah’s spine as they left the building and paused in the sunshine, just outside. A malevolent gaze was upon her. She knew it from her depths, even though Lester was nowhere to be seen. The man was evil. Her skin almost crawled from the intensity of his presence. A deep-seated fear settled in the pit of her stomach, and she cursed silently as she considered what he was capable of.

  “What is it, Sarah?” Brace spoke quietly in her ear, one arm wrapped firmly about her waist, holding her fast against his side.

  “Lester is watching me,” she said, and was thankful that Brace did not argue the fact with her.

  “I don’t see him,” Brace said after a moment, “but that doesn’t mean anything. He’s too smart to be out in the open.”

  She looked up at him and then away. “I was afraid you might think I was imagining it,” she said. “But I know he’s watching.” She stepped faster down the sidewalk. “Let’s go home.”

  “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” Brace said, a subtle tone in his voice that bid her meet his gaze, and she was held captive by the desire burning from his dark eyes. “I’m in a hurry to have you to myself,” he murmured quietly in a voice that traveled no farther than her ear. “Tonight I’m leaving the lamp lit.”

  As though he had nothing more important to do than spend the afternoon at her beck and call, Brace stayed in the house with her, sitting at the table with a book while she cooked, drinking a cup of coffee and testing the first sample of her batch of bread. “I didn’t realize how talented you were,” he said, slathering butter across the thick slice he held. A jar of jam was presented to him and he used it generously, then took a bite.

  “Good?” Sarah asked, watching with satisfaction. “My mother thought every woman should know the basics of homemaking, and the most basic is finding your way around a kitchen.”

  “You were no doubt her star pupil,” Brace commented. “I’ve never been so pampered in my life. Not only do I find clean clothes to wear every morning, but I’m privileged to sit down at a meal fit for a king every evening. And in between, I’ve managed to snag myself the prettiest girl in town.” He leaned back in his chair and ran an approving look down her length, from the top of her head to where her toes peeked from beneath her skirt.

  “Where are your shoes?” he asked, frowning as he realized she was barefoot.

  “I took them off,” she said, glancing down and extending one slender foot. “My boots are too heavy for the house and my shoes are too tight.”

  “Then buy some new ones,” Brace told her bluntly. “I can afford anything you want from the Mercantile.” He looked sternly at the evidence of her frugality, and she felt her toes curl instinctively.

  “I like to go barefoot,” she told him.

  “But when we leave the house, you wear shoes that are too small,” he said, reminding her of her own words.

  She grimaced, acknowledging his words as truth. And then, relenting, she turned back to him. “I’ll pick out new shoes if you’ll let me buy you some lighter-colored shirts. Do we have a deal?”

  His frown would have appeared oddly somber if he hadn’t looked so perplexed at that idea. “I like black shirts,” he said simply.

  “I know,” she told him agreeably, “but I’m tired of seeing you in black. I’d like something lighter, maybe blue or tan.”

  He thought for a moment and then nodded. “All right. It’s a deal. Tomorrow we’ll go to the Mercantile and do some shopping.”

  “Will you always be so agreeable?” she asked him.

  “Will you?” he countered, and then smiled at her raised eyebrows. “I know. You asked me first.”

  “I like agreeable men,” she told him. “Especially the one I’m married to.”

  “Anything else I can do to please you?” he asked, his look warming her, promising her without words that he would give her his undivided attention once the sun had set and Stephen had gone to bed.

  “Just be mine,” she whispered, the words seeming to come from some deep well of need, some aching demand for the security of his absolute affection. And if she only knew, he thought, he was more than willing to fulfill that yearning he sensed in her sometimes. He wanted to love her wholly, unashamedly, in a way that would assure her of his devotion, make her aware of the tremendous need existing within his soul.

  She had become his very life, the air he breathed, the first thing he saw when he awoke in the morning, and her presence was the object of his searching when he entered his house every afternoon.

  Yet she would think him daft should he use such flowery language in her hearing. And where the words came from he did not know, but the truth was simply that Sarah was the beginning and end of his existence.

  “I am yours,” he said, his voice breaking as he reached for her. It was not enough to look at her, to admire the sunshine of her smile, the hidden laughter in her eyes. He must have his hands on her, must feel the warmth of her flesh through the clothing she wore. She fitted against him neatly, her breasts warming him, her hips firm and womanly in his hands. His mouth sought hers and he was lost in the magic that was so much a part of her.

&nbs
p; Sarah. His wife. His reason for living, breathing the air she breathed, sharing the space she occupied with her feminine presence.

  “I’m yours, Sarah,” he said, repeating the vow in a way she could not mistake. “Don’t ever think otherwise. I’ll take care of you and provide for you for the rest of our lives.”

  “I know that,” she murmured. “It gives me such a feeling of security, of peace, to know that I’m safe with you.” Her lips formed to his, her arms linked around his neck and she offered herself completely to his will, her every movement enticing him to gather her closer, to carry her to their bed.

  “How long before school is out?” he asked roughly, and then glanced out the kitchen window. It was still early afternoon, he decided, and the bed that awaited them at the top of the stairs was issuing an invitation he could not resist.

  “You probably have an hour or so before you pick up Stephen,” she said, her index finger tracing the line of his jaw. “What did you have in mind?”

  “You don’t know?” he asked. “Shall I tell you exactly what I’m going to do, or should I make you guess?”

  “I think I have a good idea,” she told him, her smile beckoning him further down the path of seduction he was traveling at breakneck speed. In moments her apron was tossed over the back of a chair, the bread was wrapped in a dish towel and she stood before him once more, this time occupying herself with the line of buttons that held the front of his shirt together. Her fingers were nimble, and in mere moments she’d undone all of them, exposing his chest to her eager hands.

  Her palms spread wide across the width of muscled flesh, her fingertips almost hidden in the thick mat of hair that curled there. And then she moved them, up to his shoulders then back to where tiny buttons stood erect, testifying to his arousal. She touched them gently, then bent forward and licked at each small nubbin of flesh with the very tip of her tongue.

  He could barely resist scooping her off her feet, so great was his need for her. But she intrigued him in this moment, looking like a blend of innocence and some other quality he could only describe as bewitching, tempting him with the brush of her body against his, the soft smiles of feminine temptation she offered, the kisses she bestowed.