The Lawman's Little Surprise (15 page)

“He didn't have to. I think we both know who it was. But I'll never say a word to anyone.” She made an X on her heart with her finger. “I swear.”

Trish almost smiled at the familiar childhood pledge. “I don't think Morgan reported it,” Trish said. “If he had, John would still be in jail now. I don't understand why he didn't.”

“I think he believes he's helping John.”

“He's not. John needs professional help, and Morgan isn't the one to give it.”

“And maybe he'll still get it. Morgan can only let kindness take him so far, and he may realize that what John did has ramifications he hadn't thought of before. Such as the two of you.”

Sighing, Trish leaned her head back against the sofa and closed her eyes. “It's almost as if he's waiting for it to happen again, only with a different outcome. As if that's his destiny or something.”

“He does love you, Trish,” Kate said softly. “He loves you so much he was willing to give you up to keep you safe.”

Opening her eyes, she sat up. “It just doesn't make sense.”

“Love never does. Give him time.”

“I would,” Trish said, “but I don't think it will change things.”

Morgan hadn't meant to slam the door when he finally made it home to the Commune, but he'd used enough force that Ernie poked his head out of the office door.

“It's late,” Ernie said, the scowl on his face proving his disapproval.

“Yeah, I know,” Morgan answered and continued to the stairs. All he wanted was a shower and sleep…if sleep would come.

“Maybe you should come in here.”

Morgan shrugged, crossed the foyer and started up the stairs. “Don't know why.”

“No? Let's try slamming the door, for starters.”

“Let's try forgetting about it.”

“Morgan.”

His foot froze on the stair, and he blew out a
whoosh
of air. Maybe he should get this over with. If Ernie had something to say, he'd listen. He owed him that much. If Ernie hadn't helped him out six years ago, there was no telling where he'd be right now.

“All right.” Descending the way he'd come, but in a much worse mood, he joined his uncle and followed him into the office, taking a seat, but not caring and not ready to discuss the day he'd had. He'd listen to what
his uncle had to say, and then call it a night. It had been a day he hoped to soon forget.

“Stu called earlier looking for you,” Ernie announced as he settled in his easy chair.

“He found me. I was running late, but I made it. I've been there all evening.”

“And the rest of the day?”

Morgan refused to look his uncle in the eye. He didn't know if he even wanted to tell him he'd been slam-dunked in the marriage department. “Here and there. Working. Not working.”

“Talked to Trish, did you?”

Shoving to his feet, Morgan stood. He'd thought he could do this, but he couldn't. “Not now, Ernie.”

“Now's as good a time as any.”

It irked the hell out of Morgan that his uncle seemed so unaffected, as if he had expected things to go bad. There Ernie sat, waiting to hear what happened, and Morgan couldn't think about it, much less share the experience.

“Bottom line, I took your advice and told her about Miami,” he admitted. “All she could say was she was sorry, but that I'd lied when I led her to believe her tour was the reason I canceled the wedding.”

“And that's not true?” Ernie asked, watching him closely.

Morgan ran a hand through his hair. “Well, yeah, but I did it to protect her. That's what she doesn't seem to understand. Well, that and why I now want to make an honest woman of her.”

“Aha.”

“Aha?”

“I understand where you're coming from, and there's
an answer to your problem. But first, you need to figure out what it is.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Morgan replied, more confused than he had been when he'd walked in.

A thoughtful expression crossed Ernie's face. “You were always a serious boy, and now you're a serious man, sometimes overstudying things.”

“I have to be this way to do the job I do,” Morgan pointed out.

“True. But you keep things close to yourself. The opposite of my dad.”

Morgan remembered his childhood. “It was Grandpa who got me interested in law enforcement,” he said, thinking aloud. “All those stories he told me.”

Ernie nodded. “I heard the same ones growing up. So did your mom. And your grandmother, too. It was more immediate then. We heard the story right after it happened. I think that's why your mom married your dad. An accountant's life seemed pretty tame compared to the stories we heard.”

Morgan looked up at him. “But she never said a word to me.”

“She wouldn't. But there you have it. Two extremes. He couldn't talk enough about it and you keep it locked inside. There's a happy medium you're going to have to find, Morgan. Not enough to frighten Trish, but you can't keep her in the dark, either.”

Morgan thought about it. Maybe Ernie had something. But it still wasn't the answer he needed. “And you think that's the problem?”

“Could be. I'm not the one going through this.” Ernie
stood slowly and stretched. “You think about it. I'm going to bed.”

“Yeah,” Morgan said, wondering what it was he was missing that Ernie could see.
He
sure couldn't see it. “Yeah, I'll do that.”

But even the next morning, after a fitful night of sleep and drifting in and out of disturbing dreams he didn't remember upon waking, he still didn't have an answer. Hettie noticed immediately at breakfast that he was in a sour mood.

“Goodness, Morgan, you're like a bear with a thorn in its paw.”

“I feel like one,” he said, without thinking.

Getting up, Hettie crossed the room and quietly closed the door to the dining room where only the two of them sat having a late breakfast. “Aggie told me you talked with Trish,” she said as she returned to her seat.

“She would,” Morgan grumbled.

For a moment she was silent. “There's just one question that needs answering,” she finally said.

“What's that?”

“Do you love Trish?”

All he could do was stare at her. “Of course I do.”

“Have you bothered to tell her that?”

He considered the question before answering. “Not in so many words, I guess, but I think wanting to keep her safe from harm is proof enough of that.” Knowing Hettie would dig until she got to the truth, he continued. “And I
did
suggest we should get married.”

He'd never seen her look more disapproving. What had he done wrong?

Sighing, she shook her head. “Morgan Rule, lately you've been proving you are more of a fool than I ever
thought. If you can't find a way to convince Trish that you want to marry her because you love her, not just because you've fathered a child, she might very well cut you out of her life and the baby's, too.”

He was trying to digest what she'd said as she folded her napkin, placed it on the table and left the room. He was back to square one.

He did love Trish. He wanted to marry her, always had. He wanted to be a real father, for them to be a real family, and he'd told her so. He'd even told her about Miami and enough about what had happened with John so she'd understand. And she'd refused him.

How was he supposed to convince her that he loved her when she'd insisted they keep to themselves for a while? And for how long?

Later that afternoon, even though he didn't know what he could say, he tried calling Trish, but Aggie answered the phone. “Now, Morgan,” she said when he asked to speak to Trish, “you need to give her some time. Things will work out for the best.”

“I need to talk to her, Miss Aggie.”

“She's at Kate and Dusty's. Now isn't a good time.”

Before he could say more, she'd hung up.

He wasn't sure if he could get through Kate to Trish if he tried calling, so he didn't. But by the next day, he decided he might be able to talk Kate into being his ally. It was far-fetched, he knew, but any chance was better than none.

Kate, however, was like a brick wall and had very little to say except to leave Trish alone until he came to his senses. Because he hadn't reached that point and didn't know where bad sense ended and good sense started in all of it, he chalked it up as another failure
and managed to get through the rest of that day and the day after.

But when Wednesday rolled around and he saw Trish in town, it was clear she was avoiding him. She nearly sprinted to her car when she saw him as she left the Chick-a-Lick Café and he was headed there for lunch.

By late Friday, he was beside himself, more confused than ever. Somehow, he thought, sitting at the desk in the sheriff's office, the tiny baby jersey spread before him, he had to figure this out. He had to find that middle Ernie had talked about.

Pushing away from the desk, he stood and walked to the window that looked out over Desperation's Main Street. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two figures, one an older man in his seventies, the other a woman about the same age. Vern and Esther. According to everyone in town, Esther had been chasing Vern for years. Literally.

Was that going to be him? Would he be chasing after Trish for years and years while she ran away, the way Esther did with Vern? He couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't let it come to that.

He remembered his conversation with Dusty, how Kate's husband had told him that keeping secrets from the Clayborne women could lead to trouble. Dusty had been right. If he'd been honest with Trish when they'd first met, if he'd told her about Miami, maybe things would be different.

And he remembered what Connie had said, how she was thankful for the years she and Ben had spent together.

He'd found love in Desperation, and he wasn't willing to give it up. He
would
talk to Trish. He would find a
way to make her listen, one last time. And maybe as he did, he would begin to understand himself.

The vision of Dusty chasing Kate through town at the July Fourth celebration came to mind. Dusty had gone so far as to rope Kate to get her to listen. If that's what it took, or something like that, then that's what he'd do.

And in that instant, Morgan knew what needed to be done.

 

T
RISH SAT
at the table in Kate's kitchen, surrounded by honey oak cabinets and frilly white curtains at the windows, so unlike Kate it was almost laughable. But Kate looked right at home that Saturday as they waited for Aggie to join them for an early evening meal. Kate had fixed Dusty's favorite fried chicken and Trish had fixed the trimmings, feeling smug that everything had turned out perfectly. Aunt Aggie was expected at any moment, and the sun was moving toward the horizon.

“It'll work out,” Kate said for the hundredth time in the past week. “Morgan isn't a fool. He's smart.”

Sighing, Trish nodded, but she didn't feel as positive as her sister did. “I hope so. Maybe I shouldn't be trying to avoid him.”

“It's exactly what you should be doing. Just be patient a little longer.”

“That's easy for you to say,” Trish answered as the phone rang.

Kate hurried to answer it. “Yes, she's right here.” Handing the phone to Trish, she said, “It's Hettie.”

“Hi, Hettie,” Trish greeted her when she took the phone. “What's going on?”

“I called the farm, but Aggie said you were there at
Kate's. By the way, Aggie is on her way and should be there any minute.”

“Oh, good, dinner's almost ready.”

Hettie whispered a sigh. “Oh, dear. I was hoping you'd have a few minutes to run into town.”

Disappointing Hettie was something she hated to do. “What for?”

“I need your opinion on the new drapes for my apartment,” Hettie rushed on. “I was planning to go into the city and get them as soon as possible, but I wanted to see what you thought first.”

“You were going tonight?”

“No, no. First thing, right after church in the morning,” Hettie explained, “before the crowds get too big to shop without a problem. But if you're busy…”

Trish glanced at Kate, who was setting the table with the pottery she'd received as a wedding gift. “Well, I suppose I could,” she said, shrugging when Kate turned to look at her.

“No, no, I don't want to take you away from the family, even for a few minutes.”

“It's not a problem, Hettie,” Trish answered, feeling bad to be thinking only of herself. Hettie had always gone out of her way to help the Claybornes without even being asked. She'd been like Trish and Kate's fairy godmother for as long as they could remember. “I can be there in a few minutes and back without missing much of anything here. Kate can hold things up for a little while.”

“Dusty wouldn't be too pleased,” Hettie pointed out.

Trish laughed. “He'll survive. But really, Hettie, Kate won't mind and neither would I.”

“You're sure?” Hettie asked, hesitating. “I'd feel bad if I made everyone change their plans. We can do it another time. Don't you worry.”

“Hang on for one second, Hettie.” Trish placed her hand over the receiver so Hettie wouldn't hear. “Kate, can we delay dinner for a little bit? Hettie needs my help. It shouldn't take long.”

Kate shrugged. “It makes no difference to me. The gravy isn't made yet, and everything else can be kept warm. We've done that enough times during wheat harvest.”

“Thanks,” Trish told her, then removed her hand. “Hettie, Kate said she can hold dinner. I'll be there as quickly as I can.”

“Oh, Trish, that's so nice of you. I should have called earlier, but I got busy with other things and simply forgot. You're always such a dear girl.”

Trish smiled. “I'm happy to help whenever I can. You know that.”

“Then I'll see you in ten minutes or so?”

“I'll be there soon.”

When she'd said goodbye and hung up, Kate nudged her. “You're always a sucker for Hettie.”

“And you're not?” Trish asked, grabbing her purse from the chair where she'd left it. “Well…”

“Right,” Trish said, laughing, and started for the door. “I won't be gone long. Something about needing my opinion on drapes for her apartment that she absolutely must get tomorrow after church.”

“That's Hettie. If you'll turn the oven on to warm on your way out, I'll put everything in it and you can be on your way.”

Trish did as requested, and then opened the door to step outside before calling over her shoulder, “Tell Dusty I promise I won't be gone long enough that he'll have to worry about starving.”

Kate laughed. “I'll do that. But I'm sure he'll waste away, no matter what.”

“No doubt about it,” Trish answered with a wave of her hand as she hurried to her car.

The early evening was cold, with a hint of a breeze, and she pulled her coat around her as she slid inside her car and started the engine. Out on the road, she took a long look at her surroundings, appreciating the beautiful countryside. Clouds from earlier in the day banked in the northeast, moving away, while the sun shined against them, creating dark silhouettes of the bare trees in the distance.