The Lawman's Little Surprise (14 page)

He shook his head and dangled his clasped hands between his knees. “Only Ernie and only because he needed to know why I was here.”

“Morgan, that's so…” She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, he could see the tears glistening in her eyes. “Were you and your partner close?” she asked.

“He was like a big brother to me when I first joined the force. He showed me the ropes, helped me hone my skills and made me a better cop.”

“He was older than you?”

“A few years. He made me a part of his family. His wife, Connie, spent hours talking to me about what it was like to be the wife of a cop in a city where there was constant bloodshed of some kind.”

“I'm sure it's brutal,” she said, reaching out to put her hand on his. “What you went through—” She shook her head and sighed. “Most people couldn't have gone on.”

“Connie and the kids needed somebody, so I stayed for six months,” he explained, remembering the time as clearly as if it had happened a week ago.

“How old were their kids?”

“Ben Junior was eleven, and Tasha was eight.”

“Did they— Where were they when the shooting happened?”

“Asleep in their beds,” he answered. “It was late. We'd had one of our Saturday-night barbecues.” He looked up and into her eyes. “Ben loved to grill, and Connie would tease him about not knowing how to cook, but he sure
could grill a mean steak. Sometimes he'd smoke ribs, but that night, it was the steaks.”

They were silent for a moment, until Trish asked, “Did you see the car coming?”

He shook his head, remembering it as if it was yesterday. “Connie was on the porch steps, and I was standing in the middle of the yard. We were joking about the watermelon-seed-spitting contest we'd had and how Connie had beat us all.” He was seeing it again, as if he was there. The dark road lit only by a few streetlamps, the small gas light glowing in the front yard. A dog barked down the street, and he heard the faint sound of garbage cans being tipped over. “My back was to the street. Ben was telling Connie again that he was sure she'd cheated, but he never finished the sentence. None of us heard the car as it approached.” He clenched his hands together, not realizing Trish's was still on his. “I should have seen it. Heard it. Something.”

“No, Morgan, you can't think of it that way.”

He glanced over at her. “I wish I didn't think of it at all sometimes. I don't remember if the car's headlights were on. Probably not. I've never been able to answer that question. But I remember the sound of several shots, and then Ben went down. Then the squeal of tires, and I pulled my gun and spun around and started shooting. I know I hit the car and shattered at least one window, but the car just kept going.”

“Did they find out who did it?

Her voice was soft and caring, and he nodded. “Some kids. Gang. Ben had testified against some of their family members who had been put away for a long time.”

“I can only imagine how awful it was for you. And for Connie.”

Nodding, he forced out the words. “She's a strong woman, but losing Ben was almost more than she could handle. She'd told me so many times how hard it was being the wife of a cop, not knowing if this night or that night would be when she'd get a call that something had happened and Ben was in the hospital or wouldn't be coming home. She never expected it to happen right in front of her.”

“It's stayed with you all these years, hasn't it?”

“Every second of it,” he admitted.

“But it's different here in Desperation,” she said, her voice quiet as she squeezed his hands. “We don't have gangs or kids shooting out of cars. It's a quiet town, and I don't understand how what you've told me has to do with canceling our wedding.”

“It just does.”

Her hand came off his when she leaned back. “What do you mean?”

He wanted to reach for her hand as she had reached for his, but he couldn't. Instead, he tried to explain to her the fears he had and how he wanted to keep her safe.

“I thought Desperation would be peaceful. Safe,” he said, getting to his feet. “When I first asked you to marry me, I believed everything would be good. But I found out this town isn't any safer than any other, that bad things can happen.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, watching him.

“I can't tell you,” he answered. “Not the specifics, but something happened that made me realize that you wouldn't be any safer than Connie was. If anything
happened to me, you'd be left alone, as hurt and lonely as Connie was.”

“What are you trying to say, Morgan?”

He'd come to the part where he had to make her understand. “All of this is why I canceled our wedding.”

“But you made it sound like—”

“I did,” he admitted, unable to look at her. “But your tour wasn't the reason. I couldn't risk leaving you a widow like Connie.”

The silence in the room wrapped around him. He knew she had questions, but he wouldn't say any more than he had to.

She stood, but she didn't move toward him. Instead, she walked to the other side of the room before turning around to face him. “But that doesn't make sense, Morgan,” she said. “That was several years ago. You were right in thinking it's peaceful here. The risk you're so worried about is gone.”

But it wasn't. Still, he wouldn't tell her about John. And he knew now that he had to do right by her and the baby. Keeping his distance wouldn't work. He should have done it in the beginning when she told him she was pregnant.

“So getting married is the right thing to do,” he finally said. “Our baby needs a family, and I'll watch after both of you and make sure nothing happens to either of you. Or to me.” He looked at her, meeting her puzzled gaze. “It
is
the right thing, Trish. You know that.”

Her head moved slowly from side to side. “I don't think so.”

“You don't think so what?”

“No, I—” She started to sit again but didn't, and then she paced along the opposite side of the room.
“No, getting married is not the answer. I'll raise the baby on my own as I'd planned, with help from Kate and Aunt Aggie. I won't marry you, Morgan. Not now, anyway.”

“What?” He couldn't believe he'd poured out his heart to her and told her something he'd long ago sworn he would never tell anyone. And this was the answer he got for it?

Turning, she met his gaze. “Maybe later, but not now.”

“That's not right, Trish. I'm offering you marriage, a home for you and our baby. But you're turning it down?”

“I'm sorry, but that's what I have to do. That's what's best.”

He stared at her, willing her to come to her senses, but his were now so scrambled, he didn't know what to say to make her understand.

“I need to know why,” he said, wounded in a way that even John's pistol could never do.

 

S
INKING TO THE CHAIR
, Trish let out a long sigh. She'd known Morgan would be upset. She didn't blame him. If she'd made up her mind sooner, they wouldn't have come to this point. But if she'd done that, she probably would never have known what happened to change him. At least something good had come of this. She had the answer to the question that had been keeping her awake at night for months.

“I'm sorry, Morgan,” she said. “I'm not saying I'll never marry you. Maybe down the road things will change.”

“Down the road?” He shook his head and stuffed
his hands into his pockets. “I don't believe this is happening.”

“I'm glad you told me about Miami,” she admitted, even knowing it wouldn't help. “I knew something had happened, but you never share things like this with me. It's as if you don't think I can handle it.” Like Morgan, she shook her head in confusion.

He stiffened and looked her square in the eye. “I didn't share it with anyone but Ernie, and even then only because I had to. It's not something you go around telling people.”

“I understand. But you took it upon yourself not to tell me, yet you made a decision for me that would affect me for the rest of my life.”

“I decided for
us.
”

Why couldn't he see? What did she need to say to make him understand that she was a part of this and had every right to know things that affected her, no matter how long ago they happened?

“No, Morgan, you decided that canceling the wedding was the best thing for
you.
”

Jerking his hands from his pockets, he took a step toward her. “That's not true. I couldn't risk something happening to me that would leave you alone. I didn't want you to go through something like that.”

She studied his face. He was a good man, an honorable man, and she understood that he was only doing this for her. Or thought he was. “Shouldn't that be
my
decision?”

“Not necessarily.”

She was ready to give up. He saw things his way, not from the view of others, at least not in his personal life.
“You don't trust me enough to let me choose what's best for me.”

“That's not true, either!”

She wouldn't argue, but he needed to know how she felt, so there would be no question. “You didn't tell me any of this until now. Not one single thing, not even a hint as to why you'd left Miami and came to Desperation. It's as if I don't really know who you are. You let me think my book tour was the reason you called off the wedding. You lied about that.”

She knew she'd hit the mark when the anger left his eyes and was replaced with remorse. “I couldn't deal with what happened to Ben,” he explained. “Not then, not now. I'll always feel it was my fault that he died that night. It should have been me, not him. I didn't have a wife and children.”

“That's not the way life works.”

“I know that,” he admitted, his sorrow evident in his eyes. “I wanted to make sure you wouldn't ever go through what Connie has gone through all these years.”

“But that's for me to decide,” she said as kindly as she could. She knew he was hurting, and the last thing she wanted to do was inflict more pain. But he had to understand how she felt about what he'd done and how it couldn't happen again, not if they wanted to have any kind of relationship in the future.

“I only had your safety and best interest at heart,” he insisted.

Trish nodded and felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She wouldn't let him see. In the state he was in, he'd only see it as weakness. “I'm sure you were thinking of
me, but that doesn't make it right. I'm sorry, Morgan, but that's something we need to work on before we go any further. I didn't realize it before, but I'm seeing things in a different way. Maybe it's the pregnancy. I don't know.”

Morgan didn't seem convinced. “I've told you everything now. How Ben died, how I watched Connie suffer, how I came here to Desperation thinking it would be safe.” He looked directly at her, uncharacteristically, his pain reflected in his eyes, his defeat in his slumped shoulders. “Believe me, Trish, if I hadn't thought that, I never would have asked you to marry me. And then when—when somebody pulled a gun on me last June, I realized Desperation wasn't safe, either, and I would never be able to promise that I would always be here for you.”

Trish's heart ached for the man she had fallen in love with years before and still loved. But there were still issues that needed to be worked through before she would consider marrying him. She tried to be gentle in choosing the words she had to speak. “Yet you now think we should get married. It doesn't work that way for me, Morgan. I won't marry you out of necessity, because there's a baby on the way and you—and I—think he or she should have both a father and mother and be a part of a traditional family.” She shook her head, thinking of what could be but might not. “No. Honor doesn't make it the right thing to do.”

“It's all I
can
do.”

“Then we'll give it time.”

She knew the second his anger got the best of him. She'd refused his offer of marriage, at least for the time
being. Morgan had pride, and he wouldn't accept that she wasn't ready, not the way things stood between them. “We don't
have
time, Trish.”

Knowing she could do nothing more, except to hurt him, she stood. “We have a lifetime, no matter how long or short that is. And until you can understand yourself and me, I think it would be best if we didn't see each other for a while. The more you insist, the more I'll back away.” Stepping closer to him, she reached for his hand and held it between hers. “That isn't what I want, Morgan. Please believe that.”

It was hard to let go of him, but she did and turned away. For several seconds, he didn't move, but she finally heard him walk toward the door, then heard it open and close behind him. Drained, she sank to the sofa, where she sat and prayed that someday he would be able to deal with his past and see that there were no guarantees in life.

She didn't know how long she'd been sitting there when she heard the door open. Looking up, she saw Kate. “Come on in,” she said, gathering what energy she had left.

“Is everything okay?” Kate asked, crossing the room to sit on the sofa beside her. “I couldn't help but overhear some of that.”

“I'm not sure it will ever be okay,” Trish said, feeling more confused than ever. “Am I doing the right thing, Kate?”

Kate took her hand and squeezed it. “I wish I could tell you, but only you know the answer.”

“But I don't. Nothing seems right. What keeps going
through my mind is that he's never said he loves me, not since…”

“Since John held that gun on him?”

Trish stared at her. “He never said—”