The Marshal Takes a Bride (10 page)

H
ours after leaving Mattie’s brothel, Trey couldn’t stop thinking about the woman, her lies and the ugly business she ran. His gut twisted in anger as he considered the kind of men who frequented the establishment, violent, immoral men like Ike Hayes, who stole life for the sheer pleasure of it.

Anger surged through him, threatening to consume him, but Trey tamped it down with a hard swallow.

How many of Katherine’s childhood years had been spent in a brothel like Mattie’s? How many times had she observed women taking money in the place of love and respect? How many lonely nights had she worried her own life would become the same as her mother’s—only to have her fears realized when a former customer of Sadie Taylor’s stole her innocence?

In that moment, the line between vengeance for Laurette and restitution for Katherine blurred in Trey’s mind. He couldn’t understand why God would allow such kindhearted women to suffer brutality. Apparently, there was no mercy in this cruel world.

Leaning back in his chair, Trey propped his feet on the desk in front of him and speared a hand through his hair. Mattie had made it clear that talk had already begun about him and Katherine, just as he knew it would.

Well, Trey might not be able to right the wrong done to Laurette, at least not specifically, but he could correct the mistake he’d made with Katherine. Then maybe,
maybe,
he could alleviate some of his guilt over failing Laurette.

And regardless of Trey’s past defeats, Katherine deserved freedom from her fear of all men, including him. If only he understood how she could cling to an invisible God that had abandoned her to a childhood inside a filthy brothel, a childhood that had ultimately led to one night of unspeakable violence. In spite of her personal hardships, she still held strong to her faith.

In that moment, he realized it was that very faith that drew him to her. Before meeting her, he’d been consumed with anger, driven by his hate and blissfully ignorant of the need for peace in his life. Marriage to Katherine Taylor might be just what he needed to start a new life.

But if he did talk the woman into marriage, what would it mean for his love for Laurette? Already, thoughts of his wife were becoming hazier and harder to grasp. In fact, he hadn’t even thought of Laurette the past few times he’d been in Katherine’s presence. If he found Ike and personally served up justice to the outlaw, perhaps then Trey could come to terms with Laurette’s murder at last and move on with his life.

He exhaled a ragged breath. Because of his growing feelings for Katherine, he had not only betrayed the memory of his wife, but he’d inadvertently added further ruin to a fine woman’s shaky reputation.

Well, he couldn’t change the past, but he could right the
future. It wasn’t until after hours of hard thought that an idea finally materialized, one that just might work to convince Katherine to marry him.

Lack of sleep, Trey discovered, made him very smart.

Katherine woke from a fitful, dream-ravaged sleep. Squinting through the shadows, she dragged in a shaky breath and studied the clock on the mantel. Midnight.

Sighing, she tossed to her left, turned to her right, then rolled back to her left again. Unable to find a comfortable position, she huffed, kicked at the sheets, then set to tossing back and forth again.

She turned to prayer, whispering aloud a portion of the thirty-second Psalm. “O Lord, You are my hiding place; You will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance. You…”

Unable to remember the rest, she tried another from Matthew. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

No matter how hard she tried to quote Scripture, she couldn’t dispel the image of Trey Scott’s tender expression as he’d taken her hand into his to show her a moment of comfort. He’d been so kind to her, so gentle, and Katherine never knew she could feel such…confusion.

Before Trey had come along, she’d been completely satisfied with a future dedicated solely to Molly and the other Charity House children. Security, comfort, love—those came from her heavenly Father. There was no point in wondering what other blessings she might find in marriage.

Sleep.
She needed the blissful escape of sleep. But even the familiar sounds of the Colorado night couldn’t soothe
her. The rustling of leaves grated on her nerves; the insects chattering with one another distracted and annoyed. Of course, the fact that Trey’s parting words still echoed in her ears didn’t help matters, either.

Make no mistake, Miss Taylor, I’ll ask…when I’m ready.

Pounding her fist into her pillow, Katherine barely stifled the urge to scream out her frustration. Trey Scott certainly had more than his share of audacity.

There was something alluring about a man who took what he wanted and then guarded it with complete conviction once he had it in his possession. That sort of caring made a woman feel safe, cherished.

With that thought, Katherine threw off the bedcovers and pushed herself out of bed. Gritting her teeth, she began to pace. With each step, she struggled against the awful notion that she’d lost an important battle before it had truly begun. Trey Scott might be a lawman. He might still be in love with his dead wife. And he might carry a driving need for vengeance that could one day destroy him. But he was also handsome and charming and had a way with Molly that truly amazed Katherine.

With a soft thud, something landed at her feet, drawing her attention from her troubled thoughts. She looked down at the object on the floor, leaning over at the exact moment a virtual onslaught of various colors, shapes and sizes rained through her open window.

Reaching to the floor, she picked up one of the…
flowers?
Before she could grasp what was happening, more followed. And more still, accumulating into a soft rainbow of color at her feet. Studying the blossoms, she noted that a scrap of paper hung from each of the flowers’ stems. Trying to read one of the scribbled messages, she bent
forward. But another batch flew into the window, pelting her gently in the head and shoulders.

As the flower assault continued, a wave of girlish giggles slipped out of her lips. She fumbled to the nightstand and quickly lit a lantern.

Picking up a random stem, she read the scrawled, nearly illegible message aloud. “Marry me.”

Half dreading, half hoping to read the same message again, she chose another flower. “Marry me.” She picked up three more. “Marry me. Marry me. Oh, and what’s this? Marry me.”

The protective shield she’d wrapped around her heart started melting.

Another batch of flowers shot through the window, followed by a loud whisper. “Katherine.”

With something perilously close to a smile on her lips, she headed toward the window. Only to be hit in the face with a red geranium.

“Katherine, come out here.”

Afraid to move, to breathe—and not quite understanding why—she stood frozen in place, staring numbly at the window.

“Katherine.”

Realizing Trey’s whispers were getting louder with each demand, she dodged another rapid-fire round of blossoms and rushed to the window. Leaning her head into the crisp night air, she locked gazes with her favorite U.S. marshal one floor below.

Whipping off his hat, Trey bowed. “Fair maiden.”

When he straightened, his expression looked a bit worried, as though he wasn’t completely sure of himself. And for a brief moment, the loneliness Katherine had held
at bay all her life disappeared inside a painful hope that Trey Scott would become the man she wanted him to be.

She didn’t want to disturb the magnificent picture Trey made with his hat in hand, and his smile flashing, but curiosity got the best of her. “What do you want, Trey?”

He bent down on one knee. “Marry me. Take my name as your own.”

Ridiculous as he looked, she’d never been more charmed by a man. “You’re going to wake up the rest of the house.”

With an uncharacteristic lack of grace, he shifted to a standing position. “Then come out here and let me ask you properly.”

She had an insane urge to rush outside and fling herself into his arms. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He lifted on his toes and leaned forward. “Then I’m coming up there.”

“You wouldn’t.
You can’t.
”

He started toward the trellis. “I can, especially when my woman is being unreasonable and stubborn.”

My woman?
Katherine’s pulse picked up speed, but she knew better than to read too much into his words.

Trey Scott had an agenda, coming here at this indecent hour. And it certainly wasn’t a godly one.

Looking around to make sure they were still alone, she leaned farther out the window and lowered her voice. “Go home, Trey. We’ll talk in the morning.”

He wrapped his fingers around the bottom rung in front of him. “Looks like I’m coming up.”

“No, you’re not. You’re going home.”

He started to climb, missed his footing then started again.

Panicked that he might follow through with his outrageous threat, she said, “Stop.”

He continued, made it halfway up the wall, wobbled a bit on a faulty slat then fell to the ground, landing flat on his back.

“Trey?”

No response.

“Trey.”

Nothing.

“
Trey,
talk to me.”

“I’m…all right.”

“Can you move?”

He waved a hand in the air.

“Stay there. I’m coming down.”

He immediately jumped to his feet. “I knew you’d see things my way.”

“You tricked me, you beast.”

“I guess this means I have to come up there, after all.” He had the brass to look pleased.

“Stay there. I’ll only be a moment.”

Pivoting back to the interior of her room, Katherine lowered her gaze to the collection of flowers on the floor. Tears of hope welled in her eyes, mocking her attempt to remain rational. As hard as she tried to harden her heart, a wisp of a sigh rose from her soul.

She wasn’t accustomed to romantic displays of affection. And, with a woman’s instincts, she knew Trey wasn’t accustomed to giving them. Which made his ridiculous flower shower all the more special.

No.
She would not be moved by his calculated attempts to win her. Trey was a U.S. marshal, a man not only angry at God, but one who would abandon her and Molly each time he went to seek vengeance for his dead wife.

With that last thought, renewed determination dug deep. No matter what happened here tonight, Katherine had to get Trey Scott out of their lives.

She jammed her arms into her robe and quickly headed out into the hallway. She padded along the back stairs as quickly as she could without making any noise.

Releasing the lock, she opened the back door leading off the kitchen and collided directly into Trey. “Oh.”

With one hand, he reached out, steadied her. “Miss Taylor, always a pleasure.”

She glared at him, told herself she was too angry to notice how his gray eyes glinted like silver fire in the moonlight. Or how his hair shone dark as onyx. Nor did she notice how tall and handsome he looked with that devilish grin on his face.

No, she didn’t notice any of
that.

“Are you drunk?” she asked, more out of an attempt to gain equal footing than genuine suspicion.

“I may be a man with my share of sin, but that’s one vice you won’t pin on me.” There was steel, hard and immovable, in his voice.

She’d clearly insulted him.

“Of course. I’m sorry. It’s just so late. And you’re so…
different
tonight.”

He opened his mouth to speak again, but she crooked her finger at him. “Not out here. Come with me to where the neighbors won’t see us.”

He gave her a two-finger salute.

She ignored his arrogant attitude, squared her shoulders and set out at a clipped pace.

He dutifully followed behind her. Which put her instantly on guard. Trey Scott was anything but accommodating.

Once inside the house, he proved true to form. Shouldering the door shut, he said, “Marry me.”

“No.”

Angling his head, he spoke in that arrogant tone of his. “Did you like the flowers?”

Her heart flipped in her chest at his eager, almost boyish expression. He really was ridiculous, and a dear, dear man. Her defenses were quickly melting under his sweet attempt to woo her. A bit too quickly.

She had to catch her breath.

“Of course I liked the flowers, you big fool.” She motioned to a stool sitting next to the chopping block in the center of the kitchen. “Now sit down and lower your voice.”

He reached out and knuckled a lock of hair away from her forehead. “It seems, Miss Taylor, you’ve driven me to sneaking around in the dark. Don’t you think you should try harder at saving my soul?”

She would not laugh. She would not laugh. She would
not
laugh. “I’m not taking responsibility for your tumble from bad to worse.” She steered him toward the stool. “Now, sit.”

He obeyed, then lifted a single eyebrow at her. “Bet I can change your mind about us.”

Fighting the urge to smile at him, she put her best teacher glare in place. “Nothing you say could possibly make a difference to me.”

He cocked his head. “Who said anything about talking?”

“You wouldn’t dare. Not with the children upstairs. Must I remind you that any one of them could come in here and catch us, like they did this morning?”

“Of course not.” He threw his palms in the air. “I came only to talk. Really. You see, I’ve been thinking—”

“Imagine that.”

He talked right over her insult. “I’ve come up with a brilliant reason why you have to marry me.” He tapped his temple. “Got it all figured out.”

“I’m running over with anticipation.”

“Notice how I’m ignoring your sarcasm?”

Intrigued in spite of herself, she was careful to keep her tone neutral. “Mmm. So what is this brilliant reason of yours?”