The Marshal Takes A Bride (12 page)

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Authors: Sylvia McDaniel

Tags: #A Western Set Historical Romance Novel

BOOK: The Marshal Takes A Bride
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Sarah stared in awe at the woman. She had never felt so frustrated in all her life. Tucker’s mother just refused to see reason. She refused to even consider that Tucker and Sarah would never be together.

“I think I hear Rose moving about upstairs, if you’d like to go up and see her,” Eugenia volunteered. “I’ll watch Lucas if you want to leave him here with me.”

Sarah swallowed and glanced around the room for Kira. She had gone to the kitchen with Eugenia and never returned, leaving Lucas alone with Eugenia and Sarah. How could Sarah refuse Tucker’s mother? Yet she was nervous with Lucas and Eugenia in the same room. God, she didn’t need her to find out about her grandson, or she would never give Sarah a moment of peace.

“Okay. I’ll be back down shortly,” Sarah replied, walking out of the room, determined to return as quickly as possible.

Sarah hurried up the stairs, anxious to see her patient, not wanting Eugenia to have too much time alone with Lucas.

***

Tucker came in from the bam and noticed his mother watching Lucas in the parlor.

“Hello, son,” she said. “I’m so glad you brought Sarah and Lucas out.”

“Where’s Sarah?” Tucker asked.

“She’s upstairs with Rose, and I’m playing with Lucas.”

His mother was down on the floor with the boy, and they were playing with some blocks that Tucker remembered he had played with as a child.

“Mother, why did you send Sarah that wedding veil? Wasn’t it bad enough you scared her into coming home by sending her that telegram?”

“She told you about the veil?” Eugenia asked, placing a block on top of the tower that Lucas was building.

“Of course. I’m not going to marry Sarah or any other woman, so I wish you’d just leave us alone. Fort Worth needs a doctor, and you’re going to keep bothering Sarah until she leaves and goes home. Then who is going to deliver Rose’s baby?”

“You’re exaggerating, son. Sarah is going to be with us for quite a while. I promise you this: I won’t interfere anymore as long as you bid on her basket at the church auction.”

“Why do I have to bid on her basket?”

His mother smiled at him. “Because the church needs the money, and if you up the bid, it makes Sarah feel welcome. And you need for your loving mother to quit interfering.”

Tucker groaned, wondering how it could be so easy. He had already planned on bidding for Sarah’s basket, but if this was what it would take to make his mother quit her interfering, then he could easily play her game.

“Okay, I’ll bid on her basket, but don’t expect me to buy it. And you’ve got to promise me that you won’t interfere anymore.”

“I won’t as long as you don’t tell her why you’re bidding on her basket.” His mother gazed up at him, her eyes sparkling with merriment. “You know, Tucker, in case you haven’t noticed, Sarah is not a young girl anymore. She’s turned into a beautiful woman.”

Lucas knocked the blocks down, clapping his hands in delight at the destruction. “Momma?”

“She’ll be right back, Lucas,” Eugenia told him, as she started to build yet another tower of blocks.

“I have eyes, Mother. I can see,” Tucker reminded her.

Eugenia smiled. “I just wanted to make sure.”

Oh, yes, he had noticed the moment she stepped off that stagecoach just how much motherhood seemed to suit Sarah. She was more beautiful than even he had remembered her, and he was trying his damndest to ignore the attraction he felt simmering between them. But somehow he wasn’t having much luck. And his mother was making damn sure he couldn’t deny it.

Chapter
Seven

 

Sarah watched as Tucker carried a sleeping Lucas to the wagon. Whenever she saw the two of them together, she always got a little catch in her throat. He should know the boy was his son, should be a part of his life, yet the deception had been set in motion so long that if she were to tell Tucker the truth now, he would be angry. And deep inside she couldn’t blame him.

But she had made the decision not to tell Tucker about Lucas when she didn’t know where he had gone or how to find him. She had been alone, pregnant and frightened when she decided not to tell Tucker about his son. It was a decision she would have to live with, even though she hated the fact that it robbed Lucas of belonging to a group of people with whom he shared a common bond.

Tucker returned from securing the sleeping boy in the back of the wagon to help Sarah. He placed his strong hands around her waist and lifted her up onto the seat as if she weighed next to nothing, then climbed up after her.

Sarah glanced behind her to make sure Lucas was safely settled and sleeping. The child lay oblivious to the world, his small body curled on a pallet she had made for him in the back of the wagon.

She returned her gaze to the porch where Eugenia stood watching their departure along with Kira, who stood gazing at her sadly.

“Kira, you’ll be safe here,” she reminded the girl. The girl nodded, her eyes downcast.

“I’ll be back to check on Rose in a week. Or if you need me sooner, let me know,” Sarah called to Mrs. Burnett.

“We will. I’ll look for the two of you at the church luncheon on Sunday,” the older woman said, as she waved good-bye.

Tucker snapped the reins and called to the horses, “Yeehaw.”

“See you,” Tucker called, as the wagon began to roll away from the family homestead.

Sarah waved and waited until they were a ways from the house before she asked her question. “What is she talking about? What luncheon?”

“Every four months the church has an auction to raise money. The women donate food they’ve prepared, and the church sells it to the highest bidder. If the woman is single, she has lunch with the person who purchased her basket. I’m surprised your grandfather hasn’t said anything to you about it.”

“He’s been busy lately. He’s probably forgotten.”

"If you want, I’ll pick you and your grandfather up. You’d see a lot of people you know.”

Sarah shrugged. “I’ll consider it.”

The last rays of the setting sun bathed the land in an orange glow as they passed through the gate of the Bar None. Tucker flicked the reins, encouraging the horses to pick up speed, and Sarah, who felt the tension of the day catching up with her, was grateful.

When she was with Tucker she always felt on guard. Soon she could relax and unwind from the long day.

“So how did the meeting with my mother go?” he asked, glancing at her quickly before returning his gaze to the trail in front of them.

Sarah shook her head. “I now understand where the men in this family get their stubbornness. You were right, Tucker. She’s convinced we are meant to be together. I don’t know if I can persuade her any differently. It was like she didn’t even hear me.”

Tucker laughed. “So you didn’t make her understand she was wrong?”

“No. I don’t think I even made a dent in that woman’s armor. She wants you married,” Sarah exclaimed, amazed at the depth of Eugenia’s convictions with regard to her son.

“I know.” He looked at Sarah, his eyes twinkling with laughter. “But you thought you would change her mind, didn’t you?”

“I had to try.” Sarah returned his gaze, the warmth of his brown eyes touching her like flint to stone.

Odd, but in the entire time they had known each other, they had never discussed marriage. She had always known he was a wild spirit, elusive and free, but somehow she had thought the right woman would tame him, settle him down. And she had always hoped that she would be that woman.

“So why are you resisting? Why not just get married to satisfy her? Have you never wanted to marry?” Sarah asked.

“Not since you left town and went to that fancy school and left me here to fight off all the old maids who hadn’t found a husband yet.”

She shook her head at him. “I don’t know why I try to have a serious conversation with you.”

“Oh, Sarah. Why does a man have to get married and settle down? Why can’t I be different?”

“You can’t be different and be married, Tucker?” she asked, suddenly curious.

“No, I can’t.” He glanced at her. “I had this stupid notion that when I became known for being a fast draw, somehow I wouldn’t be ‘that Burnett boy’ anymore. That it would somehow garner me more respect.”

She tried to discreetly cover her mouth and hide her smile. “So becoming a fast draw, did it help you?” He gazed at her warily as the wagon crawled up a sloping ridge, and she had to cling to the wooden railing to keep from sliding out.

“What do you think? Now I’m that Burnett boy that’s known for being fast with a gun. And being known for having a lightning fast draw only tempts foolish young men into trying to make a name for themselves by getting rid of me.”

“So what does all of that have to do with getting married?”

“I guess the reason I don’t want to settle down is because those two words equal being tied down. Never going anywhere, never seeing new places. I guess I associate raising a family with loss of freedom and tied to responsibility.”

Sarah nodded. “There is a certain amount of both when you have children. They’re dependent on you for their every need, and you can’t come and go as you please anymore. But the rewards far outweigh the restrictions they place on you. And they are your blood, a part of you.”

Tucker shrugged. “I guess it would be exciting to see a part of you living on. But if I don’t have anyone depending on me, I can do whatever I want. I can travel to different parts of the country. That’s the way my life was when I was younger, and I enjoyed being free.”

“So what are you doing here? Why aren’t you pursuing your freedom now?”

He paused a moment. “Timing, I guess. After I left Tombstone, I almost killed a kid in Santa Fe. He was barely sixteen. I could have hit him in the heart, but at the last moment I shot him in the shoulder, wounding him seriously.”

They hit a bump in the road, and the wagon rattled as dust rose up through the air. “I knew that sooner or later, I was going to kill someone, and the law was not going to consider it self-defense. I would hang, and the thought of a rope tightening around my neck was enough for me to put an end to that part of my life. So I came home unsure of what to do. Only certain that I hated ranch work.”

“So now you’re home, but you wish you were back roaming the countryside.”

“Yes. I’m hoping to get a federal marshals position, but until then I’m here.”

“So a woman and a family couldn’t fit into your life living here, right now?”

“Don’t want to take a chance on them getting hurt. What happens when someone faster than me shows up and challenges me to a shootout?” he asked. “What happens if I’m killed?”

“Easy. You don’t participate in gunfights. You’re the marshal.” She stared at him questioningly. “Surely, you don’t respond when someone comes into town and wants a gunfight now, do you? You have stopped that awful practice, haven’t you?”

Tucker refused to meet her gaze. “Being marshal sometimes provokes them even more than just being someone with a reputation. I have to protect the town. It’s my job.”

Sarah shook her head. “You mean to tell me that if someone came into town and wanted to pit their speed against yours, you’d do it?”

He stared at her as if she had suffered a memory lapse. “Of course I would. If I didn’t, that person would think that he could come into my town and take over.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

He turned his attention back to the horses, his voice a deep, rich baritone sound. “I’ve seen it happen, Sarah. Not here, but in New Mexico, in some of the mining towns of Colorado and even in some of the smaller towns of Texas. As long as I’m the law, it is not going to happen in Fort Worth.”

The wind teased wisps of blond curls about her face, and Sarah pushed a strand away from her cheeks. “But you’ve already been shot once, and there’s no guarantee you won’t be again. Next time you could be killed.”

“You’re right, I could be,” he said, staring into her eyes. “But I’m damn good, and I enjoy being one of the best. I want to remain free.”

“You are a foolish man, Tucker Burnett. You’d give up having a wife and children just because your pride wouldn’t let you pass up a gunfight?” Sarah accused, her voice rising with repressed emotion.

Why should she tell him about his son if he didn’t want the responsibility of being a father? How could she tell him, knowing that he could die at any moment?

“That’s not what I said, Sarah.”

“No, but it’s the truth!” she said fiercely. “You’d rather die than let someone else possibly outgun you. Well, guess what? Sooner or later someone is going to, and when they do, you’re going to die.”

He glanced over at her as if she were an irrational female who didn’t know what she was saying, not the doctor who had already patched him up once.

“You don’t understand. As marshal it’s my job to make sure this town is safe. I deal with criminals and take chances every day.”

“I understand that, and I know that there is a certain amount of danger in being the law; but you’re using your position as marshal to keep your skills up as a gunfighter, not as a peacemaker,” Sarah replied her voice rising with emotion.

Tucker shrugged “Maybe so. As a doctor do you always choose the path of a healer or do you sometimes use your social position to convey strength and power?”

Sarah sat thinking, mulling over her response. “It's different for me. Being a gunfighter does not promote healing.”

“So my job as marshal is not as important as yours is of being a healer?” he asked his voice rising.

Sarah wanted to grit her teeth, but instead she glared at him. “I didn’t say that. Being a marshal is a very important and worthy job. Being a marshal who gets into gunfights just for the sake of making sure he’s still the fastest is wrong.”

“I’m good Sarah. Damn good. This is my town, and no one interferes. I’ll take on their challenge either as the marshal or as a gunfighter, their choice.” She stared at him in the semidarkness, the urge to hit him upside the head almost overwhelming, knowing that wasn’t the answer, but tempted just the same. In so many ways, he was still the same arrogant gunfighter she had patched up and fallen in love with in Tombstone.

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