Her Bodyguard (23 page)

Luke unfolded his arms and braced his hands on his hips. “I may be wrong here, but you’re making it sound like that’s a problem.”

“It is a problem!” She sat up, the look in her eyes wild. “You were safe when you were an outlaw. Now you’re not safe!”

“What?” Luke’s brow wrinkled as he tried, unsuccessfully, to make sense of what she said.

She scrambled from the bed, taking the sheet with her, making sure to keep it wrapped around her tight as she dashed for the dressing screen in the corner. “I didn’t want to believe you before, so I took the risk. Why did you have to tell me? Why am I now one of a handful? Haven’t you ever heard that ignorance is bliss? It’s one thing to be a Menace with somebody even worse than me, but you…you…” She poked her head out from behind the screen and glared at him. “You’re a hero!”

She said it like an accusation and left him standing speechless, staring in bemusement at the dressing screen, listening to the sounds of her getting dressed. Then, because it seemed like the thing to do, he looked around for the rest of his own clothes.

Scooping up his shirt, Luke attempted to collect his thoughts. “I’m sorry, Maribeth. I’m having trouble following this conversation. Surely you’re not saying what I’m thinking I’m hearing.”

He shoved his arms in his shirtsleeves and began to work the buttons. He noticed the bed and the bloodstained bottom sheet. “This business about risk taking and being a menace. Are you possibly referring to what just took place on that mattress?”

He waited for a response, but all he heard was…sniffling. Ah, hell. Luke finished buttoning his shirt, then shoved his fingers through his hair. “Mari?”

He waited a full minute before she emerged from behind the screen. She’d donned a pretty blue cotton gown that matched her eyes. Her sapphire necklace, its chain repaired, hung around her neck. Color lingered on her cheeks. Her eyes were red and swollen. “I apologize, Luke. I’m afraid this has all been a bit…unsettling.”

Yeah, well, he wouldn’t argue with that. Luke sat on the bed and reached for his socks and boots. “Just clear one thing up for me. Why was I ‘safer’ as an outlaw than as a Texas Ranger?”

Her posture ramrod straight, she drew a deep breath, then confessed. “It’s difficult to explain. You were safe because I knew we had no future. I knew not to even dream about it, not to invest my heart. It’s humiliating to admit, but my fiancé hurt me badly. I needed to prove to myself that his assertions weren’t true. You were my opportunity.”

“Your opportunity,” Luke repeated, offended. “You were using me.”

“Well, yes.”

Damned if it didn’t make him feel cheap.

“It’s the McBride Menace in me,” Mari continued. “I’ve worked so hard to subdue that part of my nature, but it got the better of me. Please, accept my apology.”

Well, now. This was just getting worse and worse. The woman had just apologized for having sex with him. Now, there was a first. Angrily, Luke tugged on his socks, shoved into his boots. Standing, he snapped, “So, then. It won’t happen again?”

“Oh, no. I…oh, no. No.”

Oh. Well, hell. Luke pretended not to see the tears she rapidly blinked away. “All right, fine. That’s fine. Now we know. Right?”

“Yes. Right.”

“All right. Good. You ready to go, then?”

“I don’t know.” He was ready to leave this room, that’s for sure. “Breakfast. We need to go get some breakfast.”

“Yes. Breakfast would be good. I’m sure I must be hungry.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” Luke watched as Mari glanced around the room, a slightly troubled expression upon her face, until she spotted the handbag lying on the floor between the bed and the nightstand. She went to pick it up and in a movement that betrayed her loss of composure, rather than making a ladylike dip and scoop, she bent at the waist and reached.

Her skirt molded to her derriere, and Luke’s mouth went dry.

Without pausing to consider his words, Luke said, “Hey, Menace?”

“Hmm?”

“Since we’re not gonna be doing this again, how about we have one for the road?”

CHAPTER TWELVE

“ONE FOR THE ROAD,” Mari muttered beneath her breath, her face turned toward the window to catch the breeze rushing past as the train chugged southward in the hot summer sunshine. “Really.”

On the seat beside her, Luke sat reading a copy of the
Trickling Springs Gazette
. Or pretending to read it, anyway. Mari had kept a close watch on him, and he didn’t turn the pages with any regularity. What he was doing, she believed, was sitting there brooding.

The man’s mood had deteriorated steadily since they left the hotel that morning. At first, Mari had felt bad because she knew she’d behaved poorly. Not during the, um, event. That had gone quite well. She had no doubts about that. But the aftermath had preyed upon her conscience. She’d been so mixed-up, so confused, she couldn’t remember exactly what she’d said.

Love did strange things to a person.

Oh, it wasn’t true love. Not the sort of love that her parents and Aunt Claire and Uncle Tye shared. Theirs was the kind of love that Roslin had talked about—love that was powerful, vigilant and true. The love that Mari felt for her outlaw bodyguard was wicked and exciting and stirring—undoubtedly the product of her own self-doubts, the forced intimacy of traveling alone together, and the fact that the man had a body that made her toes curl. This kind of love had turned her brain to mush.

As the day went on, with Luke growing grumpier by the minute, pique took the place of guilt in Mari’s mind. She hadn’t done anything to warrant a winter chill from Luke Garrett. Just because she’d dismissed his suggestion of one for the road didn’t give him reason to act so sullen. Although, she didn’t think that was the reason for his grumpiness. He’d laughed off her refusal. The cold front had come on gradually after that.

Mari couldn’t figure it out. She couldn’t figure him out.

Maybe he was as confused as she.

Mari glanced at Luke. A muscle in his cheek twitched, and she quickly looked away. Could that be it? It must be difficult to live a lie. He was a hero at heart who walked in the boots of a villain. She could see how that could cause all kinds of inner conflicts in a person.

Maybe he was pulled in two different directions just like she was. Maybe they both had a Menace side that got the better of them sometimes.

The notion was intriguing.

More in charity with him now at that thought, she decided to strike up a conversation. “Where are we due to stop next?” she asked.

He answered without looking up. “Paradise Prairie.”

“Paradise Prairie,” she repeated. “What a lovely name. Is it as big a town as Trickling Springs?”

“No.”

Mari waited for more, but apparently he wasn’t in the mood for small talk. She tried again with a question that required more than a yes or no response. “What sort of facilities can I expect to find?”

He flicked her a sidelong, suspicious look. “What are you looking for?”

“Nothing in particular. Well, except for a church, of course. Even though I know my sister is alive, it would be nice to have physical confirmation to show my parents if we have trouble finding Kat and your brother.”

Finally, Luke looked at her fully. “This is only a water stop. You might not have time for something like that.”

“I’ll hurry. I’ll know exactly which date to check, so it won’t take me long.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. The last thing you want is to miss the train again.”

Mari considered that for a moment. Luke was right. Aside from the fact that missing the train would once again delay her search for Kat, it would also mean another day without her luggage, which was hopefully awaiting her in San Antonio. Her new carpetbag filled with purchases had disappeared from the alley in the wake of Murphy’s attack, and she’d replaced her wardrobe replacements with but a single change of clothing upon their return to Trickling Springs. While an excess of vanity wasn’t ordinarily one of Mari’s vices, she couldn’t help but want to look her best, under the circumstances. “You could stay with the train and convince the engineer to wait for me if I was running a few minutes late.”

“No. Absolutely not. I learned that lesson. As long as I’m your bodyguard, you’re not leaving my sight.”

He didn’t have to sound so unhappy about it, Mari thought. Wrinkling her nose, she turned her head back toward the window and abandoned her attempts at conversation. Let him sit and stew if that’s what he wanted. She didn’t care. And she wouldn’t indulge in the childish temptation to stick her tongue out at him, either.

The remainder of the ride to Paradise Prairie passed in silence. Mari did a bit of stewing herself and decided she darn sure would check church records at their next stop, whether he thought it was a good idea or not. She had a feeling about that town. The moment she heard the name, it registered with her. It made her neck niggle. Besides, she knew her sister. She’d love the idea of getting married in a town named Paradise Prairie. It would suit her sense of drama just perfectly.

Any lingering doubts Mari entertained evaporated as the train pulled into Paradise Prairie, and the steeple on the north end of town caught her attention. This was exactly the type of church that would appeal to Kat.

It was a small building, its architecture a traditional rectangle with a gabled roof and steeple at the front. Painted a pristine white, its clear glass windows sparkled in the sunlight. What made it so picturesque, so perfectly suited for Kat McBride’s wedding, were the brilliant yellow roses that encircled the church. “That’s it, Luke. That’s where they got married. I don’t care if it means I miss the train, I’m going to take a look at those church records.”

Paper rattled as he slammed his newspaper shut. “You know, Maribeth, if your head had a point it could etch glass. Fine. We’ll trot off to the church, but if the train leaves without us, I don’t want to hear a single word of complaint escape those luscious lips of yours.”

Since Mari didn’t know whether to feel insulted or complimented, she responded with only a smile.

When the train rolled to a stop moments later, Mari was the first person off. According to the conductor, she had twenty minutes. Since the church was barely a five-minute walk away, she should have plenty of time.

She walked briskly. Luke ambled behind her, stopping once at the train station to buy another newspaper from a boy, and a second time in front of the general store where he purchased a dill pickle, Mari having declined his offer of one for herself. Despite the delays, he managed to keep up with her. Mari heard him grumble something about stubbornness a time or two, but for the most part, she ignored him. Her thoughts were on her sister and the proof she hoped to find in the charming church’s registry.

The scent of roses perfumed the air as she hurried up the walkway leading to the large oak doors. “I hope someone is here this time of day,” she observed, as much to herself as to Luke.

“We don’t have time to go chasing all over town for the preacher,” he warned, then took a bite of his pickle.

“I wish you’d stop being so pessimistic.” Mari lifted a hand toward the church door.

Luke reached around her and tugged the door open. “Not pessimistic, realistic.”

Mari stepped inside, spied a man wearing a minister’s collar flipping through sheet music stored in a piano bench, then shot a quick, triumphant glance over her shoulder before starting up the aisle. “Excuse me, sir,” she called, her voice a hollow echo in the high-ceilinged building. “Are you the pastor here?”

“I am.” He was an older gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair and a round, kind face. “Reverend Barlow Hart. May I be of service to you?”

“I do hope so. My name is Maribeth McBride. This is Mr. Garrett. I’m afraid we’re in a bit of a hurry because we need to be back on board the train when it pulls out, so I won’t go into a long explanation other than to say that we’re looking for our siblings, who we believe eloped back in May. I’m hoping you can tell me whether or not you might have married them? Katrina McBride and Rory Kelly, although, he might have been using the surname Callahan.”

“Hmm…” The reverend scratched his chin. “What part of May?”

“The very end. It would have been May thirty-first, in fact.”

“That’s why I can’t recall. The wife and I took a holiday, then. Went to visit our grandbabies down in Houston.”

As Mari’s stomach sank with disappointment, Luke rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. Then the reverend continued, “Seems to me I recall something about a wedding during those two weeks, hmm…”

Mari’s hopes rose as his brows knit in thought. Then abruptly, he snapped his fingers. “Judge Parkin. I remember now. When Mrs. Hart and I returned from Houston, Judge Parkin told me about a little spitfire who wouldn’t settle for being married in his courtroom. Had to be done in the church.”

Mari reached up and grabbed Luke’s hand. “That’s Kat. I know it is.”

“Mari, you thought the same thing at two different churches in Trickling Springs.”

Ignoring Luke, she addressed the minister, she said, “Would the judge have listed the marriage in the church records?”

“I do believe he did.” The minister held up two fingers and gestured for them to follow. “Let’s go see, shall we?”

Reverend Hart led them to a small antechamber to the right of the altar. From a shelf next to a desk, he removed a large book. “May thirty-first, you say?”

“Yes, sir.” Mari had a lump the size of a Parker County peach in her throat.

Paper crackled as he flipped the pages forward, then backward, then forward, once. Twice. Mari swallowed hard as he slid his index finger down the page. “Hmm…Margaret Thurman’s funeral on the twentieth. We baptized the Hawkins boy on the twenty-second. Here. Judge Parkin’s handwriting.” Clearing his throat, the minister read, “ ‘United in marriage. Miss Katrina Julianna McBride and Mr. Rory Wilcox Callahan, May the thirty-first of this year.’”

As a smile burst across Mari’s face, the pickle slipped from Luke’s grip and fell splat against the floor. “So help me God,” he said, “I’m gonna kill that boy.”