The Lawman Claims His Bride (Love Inspired Historical) (7 page)

Chapter Seven

H
alf fearing Logan would vanish if she released her hold on him, Megan clung longer than was proper.

But, oh, Logan loved her. He
loved
her. And he was going to marry her. Today.

She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder and breathed in his warm, masculine scent. How she’d missed him. How she’d longed for his strength. His kindness. His patience.

Although she didn’t want to rely on anyone, not even Logan, not completely, she couldn’t help but give in to her joy now.

For this one, brief moment in time, it was easy for Megan to believe God’s promise in Romans 8:28.
And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.

She tightened her grip on his shoulders, only half aware the other two men were leaving the building, giving her and Logan a moment alone with one another.

Megan sighed. All her dreams were coming true at last. Her plans for the future were no longer vague and shadowy. There would be no more waiting. No more wondering “when” or “if.” No more serving other people’s purposes, but those of her own family.

The one she would build with Logan.

Megan should be happy.

And yet...

She was tempted to hold a part of herself back, like always, even after Logan’s bold declaration of love in front of a highly unlikely audience—her doctor and the town sheriff.

Confusion and sadness tumbled through her. Surely, this bleak feeling in the pit of her stomach was caused by her memory loss and not some ridiculous fear that Logan would leave her like her father had left her mother. Like her mother had in turn abandoned her to the care of others.

No, this doubt had to be caused by recent events. She’d been through a terrible trauma.

Or so everyone kept telling her.

The thought brought no relief. Only more sadness. She dug her fingers into Logan’s shoulders, reminding herself this was Logan.
Logan,
the man who’d remained constant these past five years. The man who had returned to her, just as he’d promised.As though sensing her shift in mood, he pulled slightly away and stared into her eyes. She quickly lowered her head, away from all that consideration staring back at her.

He gently lifted her chin with his finger. “Megan?” Concern filled his voice. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Rather than answering his question, she bolted back into his arms, letting the strength of his body erase her sudden melancholy.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said in a rushed tone, her voice catching on the words. “It’s just...everything has happened so fast. I’m a bit overwhelmed. That’s all.”

“Of course.” He released a slow exhale of air. “I suspect that’s only natural.”

Why did he have to be so agreeable, so kind? So understanding?

Frowning at the unexpected jolt of frustration at him—at her—at them both—Megan stepped back again. With a slight shake in her hands, she pressed her fingertips to her temples and tried to rub out the ache behind her eyes.

“Do you want me to stay with you awhile longer?” Logan asked, worry still evident in his voice. “Time is short. But not that short. I can wait to start making plans for our wedding if there’s something you want to discuss first?”

He was giving her a chance to change her mind. Instead of feeling grateful for his thoughtfulness, panic clogged in her throat. Did he want her to change her mind?

“No. I...” Her throat grew tighter. She wanted to push him away from her. At the same time, she wanted to pull him close and never let him go. What was wrong with her? “I want you to start making our wedding plans. As soon as possible, please.”

He held very still. “You’re sure?”

Was she?
Of course she was. But her hands started shaking harder and the dark, hazy feeling that hovered just out of reach threatened to consume her all over again.

Her life might be simpler if she relied only on her own strength, but that wasn’t God’s plan for His children.
Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow...

She wanted that kind of unity with Logan.

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Megan laced her fingers together and set them in front of her. They fell directly across the bloodstains at her waist. She
had
to get out of this dress. At once.

“Please, Logan, I don’t want to wait any longer to get married. But I need to prepare a few things on my own, without you here. I need...”

A friend,
she thought a little desperately, someone to help her dress for the wedding ceremony. To share a few words of wisdom that would alleviate her worries about this hasty marriage.

As if in answer to her silent wish, the outer door swung open with a flourish. The scent of jasmine floated on the air while the sound of rustling material and soft footsteps echoed off the walls.

Megan turned her head in time to see Bella, Dr. Shane’s wife and one of Megan’s dearest friends, approaching. With her honey-gold hair, amber eyes and aristocratic features, Bella O’Toole Bartlett was the most beautiful woman Megan had ever met. She was also a ferocious and loyal friend.
Exactly
the person Megan needed right now.

Arms full of what looked like expensive dresses made of shiny silk and lace, Bella half glided, half waddled into the jail cell. Despite being eight months with child, she was all grace and style. No longer touted as the international opera sensation of her generation, the woman still knew how to make an entrance.

“Oh, Megan, my dear,” Bella said in her breathy, British accent. “I’ve been beside myself with worry. It’s just not right, you, all alone and trapped in this hideous jail cell.” She drew in a dramatic pull of air. “Well, I’m here now. We’ll get you changed and feeling like new in no time. I’ve brought several dresses with me. You can choose the one you like best.”

Barely glancing in Logan’s direction, she shoved the bundle of silk and lace at him. Ignoring how he fumbled to keep one of the dresses from falling to the floor, Bella tugged Megan into a fierce hug.

“Shane told me what happened last night at Mattie’s.” She rubbed Megan’s back as if she were one of the smaller children at Charity House. “What an ordeal you’ve suffered.”

Megan relaxed under her friend’s sympathetic care, then glanced over at Logan. He stared back at her, wide-eyed, blinking rapidly and so adorably handsome in his confusion. Clearly, he had no idea what to make of Shane’s wife. Bella had that particular impact on people.

He bobbled the dresses in his arms again, crumpling the bulk of them against his broad chest in an effort to secure his hold. He should look ridiculous, standing there with all that silk and lace tumbling around him.

He stole her breath away. This man, this dear, dear man, would soon be her husband.

Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow.
Megan sighed in satisfaction.

Bella let out an answering sound deep in her throat, then stepped back. “Let’s have a look at you.” She gripped Megan’s shoulders, scowled at the wound on her throat, then searched her face for...what?

Megan shifted under her friend’s scrutiny, putting far too much weight on her tender ankle. She gasped at the sharp pain shooting up her leg.

Logan was instantly by her side, but the dresses in his arms made it impossible for him to reach out to her.

No matter. The fact that he’d moved that quickly was enough to tell her how deeply he cared. Maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible to rely on him. Just a little.

Megan had to fight to keep from bursting into tears, whether from happiness or confusion she couldn’t say. Her emotions were so raw, so close to the surface. One moment she was happy, the next she was confused. Would she ever feel like herself again?

She didn’t have long to ponder the question before Bella released her and moved to stand directly in front of Logan. “You must be Megan’s fiancé, Logan.”

He blinked several more times, obviously thrown off by the censure in her tone. “Yes. I’m Logan Mitchell. And you—” he cleared his throat “—must be Shane’s wife, Bella. He said you were coming to help Megan change her clothing.”

“And here I am,” she said, continuing to eye Logan with her face bunched into an uncharacteristic glare.

At the sight of the two squaring off, a moment of desperation spread through Megan. What was her friend about to say to Logan? Bella had never pretended to agree with Megan’s decision to wait for his return. She’d gone so far as to encourage Megan to leave Denver altogether and travel abroad so she could study her art.

Megan had resisted.

What was wrong with not wanting to leave Denver? What was wrong with desiring a simple life with Logan, and producing a handful of children together?

“You know, Logan,” Bella said, jamming her fists on either side of her waist. “I don’t mind saying, we’ve been anticipating your arrival for some time now. Years, to be precise.”

“As have I, Mrs. Bartlett.” Logan eyed Bella carefully. “In fact, I’ve been counting down the days for five years, one month, six days and eighteen hours.”

His answer did not impress Bella. “And how many minutes, since we’re counting?”

“Twelve.”

Bella’s lips twitched, but her eyes gave away nothing of what she was thinking. “Well, now that you’ve finally arrived, I find it necessary to speak plainly.”

He tilted his head at her. “Of course.”

“You stayed away too long.”

Something like pain traveled across his features. “I agree.”

“You...” It was Bella’s turn to blink in shock. “Agree?”

“Yes.” He didn’t expand, or explain himself further.

“Well, hmm.” Bella tapped a finger against her chin and studied him silently.

He simply held her gaze.

Letting out a feminine sniff, she tossed him a dismissive wave. “You may go now. I wish to speak with Megan. Alone.”

“I understand.” He set the bundle of dresses on the cot with exaggerated care. But instead of leaving right away, he pulled Megan’s hands into his and said, “But I’ll go only if that’s what you wish of me.”

How sweet to ask her. How...wonderful.

He drew one of her hands to his lips. “Do you wish for me to leave?”

No. Yes. Maybe? She wasn’t sure what she wanted so she hedged. “I’ll be perfectly fine with Bella.”

“Then I’ll begin making plans for our future.” He dropped a chaste kiss on her forehead. “When we meet again, it’ll be at our wedding.”

“Our wedding.” As she repeated his words, the bottom dropped out of Megan’s stomach. For the first time since Logan had returned home she felt secure. “Yes, I’ll see you at our wedding.”

“Once all is made ready, I’ll return.” Smiling broadly, he turned back to Bella and regarded her with a sense of amused tolerance. “I leave my future bride in your care, Mrs. Bartlett. Watch over her for me.”

Before Bella could respond, he was gone.

“Well,” Bella said, still watching the door after he’d clicked it firmly shut behind him. “Perhaps I underestimated his attachment to you.”

Megan felt her mouth curve up at the corners. “It takes a confident woman to admit when she is wrong.”

“I said,
perhaps.
” Bella flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Time will tell.”

Megan did laugh then, the sound coming out rusty and a little off-key. “You are my most loyal friend, Mrs. Bartlett.”

“So I am.” Bella let out her own pitch-perfect laugh. “Now, come.” She steered Megan toward the cot, moved the dresses aside and forced her to sit with gentle pressure on her shoulders. “Tell me everything you remember about last night.”

The request brought a sudden ache flooding hot and fast through Megan, making her head spin. How many times must she answer the same endless round of questions before people quit asking her?

“Didn’t your husband explain the situation? I can’t tell you what happened,” Megan said, her words coming out harsh. “Because I don’t
remember.
”

“So, it’s true.” Bella touched Megan’s hand. “You’ve lost your memory of last night’s events.”

Megan nodded.

“Oh, my dear girl.” Bella joined Megan on the cot and immediately turned into the trained nurse she’d become in the past year. She brushed Megan’s hair off her forehead, then lifted her wrist and placed two fingers at the tender spot below her hand.

While Bella counted heartbeats, Megan closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing. She wanted to clear her mind, to relax, but she was getting married in a few hours. Her life was about to change forever.

In her heart she knew it was time for her to leave Charity House at last. Although she loved them dearly, the babies she cared for weren’t her own. The murals she’d painted on the bedrooms walls weren’t her creations, not really, but rather an expression of all that the orphanage stood for.

Even her charity work at Mattie’s brothel had been done by Bella first. Nothing Megan had ever done in her life was a reflection of who she was as a person, or as a woman.

Who was she then, really?

She wanted to know the answer. Craved it. But until her memory returned she feared she would be at a disadvantage. How could one know oneself when parts were missing?

Bella released her hand and then swept her fingertips across Megan’s forehead again. “You’re a little warm.”

Megan snapped her eyes open. Everything in her hurt, her head, her body, maybe even her soul, an ache borne from her helplessness. “It’s...it’s stuffy in here.”

“Is it?” Bella looked around the tiny jail cell. “I was thinking it was a bit drafty.”

For some reason, the offhand remark loosened the tears Megan had barely gotten under control once before. But she couldn’t cry. Not now. She swiped at her damp cheeks with the back of her wrist.

Wordlessly, Bella pulled Megan into her arms. “Go ahead, my friend. Cry. It’s a perfectly acceptable reaction to all that’s happened to you.”

“No.” Megan shook her head sternly. “No. It’s my wedding day. I will
not
cry on my wedding day.”