The Marshal Takes a Bride (14 page)

Wanting to soothe her fears, he reached to her. She took a single step back, creating a chasm between them that felt as wide as a continent.

“Are you going after your wife’s killer?” she asked in a defeated tone.

He sighed, deciding the truth was the best defense. “Yes. It’s time justice was served once and for all.”

She gasped. “Justice? This quest of yours isn’t about justice. It’s about revenge.”

“It’s the only thing I have left that I can give Laurette.”

“It won’t change anything.”

Hardening his heart to the look of disappointment in her eyes, he shoved a hand through his hair. “Even if Ike Hayes hadn’t murdered Laurette, he’s killed others. It’s my job to find him and bring him to justice. It’s what I do. It’s who I am.”

“And what if you don’t come back? What am I supposed to tell Molly? That you were killed seeking revenge?”

With his patience pushed to the snapping point, he glared down at her. “I
always
come back. And when I do, we’re getting married. Molly will have the family you want for her. It’s no longer up for discussion.”

Her only response was a tight-lipped grimace.

“Did you hear me?”

“I heard you.”

“Good.” He gave her a single nod. “Then it’s settled.”

“Not by half. Now you hear me,
Marshal.
” She poked her finger at his chest. “You better make good on that
promise of yours to return. Because if you hurt my little sister, I’ll make you sorry you ever chose to mess with a Taylor woman.”

With that, she spun on her heel and marched across the open field, her dignity wrapped around her like an iron cloak.

Trey stared at her retreating back, his heart clutching in his chest at her bold threat. “Oh, I don’t doubt it, honey,” he whispered after her, smiling in spite of himself. “I don’t doubt it for a minute.”

O
ne month, two days and six hours after their heated argument, Trey had yet to return home. As the midday sun spread golden fingers of light through the kitchen window, Katherine tried to go about her daily chores as though nothing was bothering her. To little avail.

Sighing, she used her wrist to wipe her forehead and then began pressing freshly kneaded dough into a bread tin.

Perhaps today would be the day Trey returned home.

Did he miss her, she wondered, as much as she missed him? Or was he thinking about their last argument and the ultimatum she’d given him to return unharmed or else she’d make him sorry?

How she regretted those impetuous words. He’d needed her comfort that night, her understanding, as he dealt with the emotions of the past. But she’d offered only accusations and shrewish demands. That wasn’t the way she wanted him to remember her while he was gone.

In a matter of seconds, her mind skipped from worry to dread to fear and back to worry again. Furious at herself, she pounded at the dough, kneading with vicious intent.

If only she had some news of him. Was he safe? Had he caught the outlaw? Was he on his way home at last? Or—the worst of them all—was he lying dead in some hidden valley, alone and forgotten?

“I will not give in to this paralyzing fear.”

She stopped kneading, closed her eyes and quoted her favorite verse from the Gospel of John. “Jesus said, ‘Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.’”

Please, Lord, help me to have faith over my fears. Please, bring Trey home safely to Molly and me
.

Her stomach clutched at the thought of never seeing him again. Stifling a moan, she flicked loose flour onto the cutting board and began kneading again.

If this sickening dread was what she had to look forward to every time Trey left to hunt an outlaw, how could she ever expect to survive marriage to him?

She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed, “Lord, give me clarity. Reveal to me what I should do.”

A movement just outside the window caught her attention.

Katherine squinted into the sunlight, her eyes focusing on the town sheriff dragging a familiar child in tow. One child. Not three. Not even two. But
one!

The last time Katherine had seen Molly, the five-year-old had asked to tag along with Johnny and Megan as they headed into town to run an errand for Laney. How on earth had her sister ended up in the lawman’s care?

And where were the other children?

In an attempt to gather more information, Katherine studied her heel-scuffing, head-hanging little sister as she
made her way toward the back door of the house—with her arm gripped by the sheriff’s hand.

Battling a large dose of trepidation, Katherine wiped her hands on her apron, circled around the counter and then opened the door leading into the backyard.

She stood on the top step, waiting for an explanation.

When neither spoke, Katherine bobbed her gaze from her sister to the sheriff and back again. Both held themselves unnaturally stiff, each shifting from foot to foot in an erratic, guilty rhythm.

“What’s happened?” When both continued in their silence, Katherine sighed. “Are either of you going to answer me?”

Molly squeaked out an “I’m sorry, Katherine,” but kept her head lowered and her arms wrapped around her middle.

“Sorry? For what?” asked Katherine.

Molly dug her toe into the dirt and shrugged.

Katherine turned her attention to the lawman, who seemed surprisingly…contrite?

What on earth was going on here?

“Where are Megan and Johnny?”

Two bushy white eyebrows drew together, and the sheriff shifted his hat to the back of his head. “I don’t know about any others. I only found this one in town.”

Gasping, Katherine turned her full attention to Molly. “You were in Denver, alone?”

Still gazing at the ground, Molly shrugged again. “I sort of got separated from the others.”

Something in the way her little sister refused to lift her head put Katherine on instant alert. “Look at me, Molly. Right now.”

The child slowly—very slowly—lifted her head.

“Oh, Molly.” A thick, hot blast of air escaped from
Katherine’s lungs as she rushed forward and lowered herself to her knees. “Your eye. It’s swollen shut.”

Molly hunched her shoulders forward. “I kinda fell into Bobby Prescott’s fist.”

Katherine fought to keep her shock from taking control of her reason. “You
kinda
fell?”

The sheriff cleared his throat. “Don’t fret over it, Miss Katherine.”

“How can I not?” She shot him an exasperated glare.

His answering gaze turned direct, unwavering. The grizzled lawman was firmly in place now. “Turns out, your little sister has quite a right hook when provoked.”

“Molly! You’ve been fighting?” exclaimed Katherine. Nausea nearly overtook her. What had possessed the child to indulge in fisticuffs?

“At least she gave it to that Prescott boy but good.” Lassiter patted her on the head like a faithful pet. “She’s a scrappy little thing, your sister.”

A strong sense of chagrin left Katherine completely unsettled. “You hit a boy?”

Clearly insulted by Katherine’s tone, the five-year-old jerked her chin at an angry angle. “He said you was my mommy. I said, ‘Yeah, so?’ ’Cause, well, I want you to be my mommy, but then he called you a tramp. He said that you was slinking in closets with men for money. I was just shuttin’ him up, but good.”

Understanding dawned, and with it came the pain. The humiliation. The bitter reality. The talk had begun, and it had already circled back to Katherine’s innocent little sister. “Oh, Molly.”

Trey had been right all along. People talked. Reasonable doubt was ignored. Guilt instantly assumed.

And Molly had been the one hurt today.

This was no longer a simple matter of word getting out about a slight indiscretion in the school’s supply closet.

It was so much worse.

Katherine took a deep breath and accepted the reality of the situation. It was one thing to hear the whispers directed at her. At least those comments were unfounded. Something had to be done about the new rumors, rumors that were entrenched in a semblance of the truth.

Neither she nor Molly could continue to live in this state of indecision. First, however, Katherine had to attend to Molly’s injuries—both the physical and mental ones—and explain the right and wrong way to respond to provocation.

But not in front of a stranger.

Rising to her full height, Katherine turned her attention to the sheriff and gave him a tight smile. “Thank you for bringing my sister home. I can handle matters from here.”

Lassiter stabbed a quick glance at Molly; then his lips flattened into a determined line as he returned his stare to Katherine. “Don’t you let them town folk and their talk get to you, Miss Katherine. Anyone with sense knows you’re a fine Christian woman.”

“Thank you, Sheriff,” Katherine said, shoving a shaky hand through her hair. “But why defend me? You don’t really know me.”

“I know what I know. Marshal Scott is the most honorable man in the territory. If he says you’re a good woman, well, then I say so, too.”

Tears pricked her eyes, but she held them back with sheer force of will. “Trey said that about me?”

He patted her on the arm. “He’ll be home soon, and he’ll help you sort this all out.”

Her heart began to trip at the burden that lay ahead of her. Yet the man’s confidence in her was heartening. “Thank you, Sheriff, for everything.”

Laney chose that moment to materialize in the door frame. “Sheriff? Is everything all right?”

“I was just leaving. Miss Taylor can give you the sordid details.” He rustled Molly’s hair. “See ya, kid.”

He turned to go but stopped and cocked his head toward Molly. “She’s been hiding her right paw under her wing ever since we left town. That Prescott kid’s got a hard head. You might want to get the doc to check out her hand.”

The words pushed Katherine to action. Ignoring the sheriff now that he was leaving, she dropped to her knees and wrestled Molly’s hand out from under her arm. “Let me see what you’ve done to yourself.”

At the sight of the bloody, swollen fingers, Katherine fought back a wave of hysteria. “Oh, Molly.”

Laney darted out of the house and knelt down next to Katherine. “You might have broken it, baby,” she declared, swiping her fingers across the child’s knuckles as she spoke.

Katherine cringed as Molly whimpered. “That hurts, Laney.”

“It’s what comes of fighting.” Laney clicked her tongue. “We’ll have to get Dr. Shane.”

Fear sprang into the child’s eyes, and then the tears started flowing freely.

Katherine smoothed Molly’s hair off her forehead. “Don’t worry, Molly. We’ll get you patched up.”

“I’m sorry, Katherine.” Sniffling hiccups came out of the little girl, and she wiped her good hand across her nose. “But Bobby was being really, really mean about you. He made it sound like you being my mommy was bad or something.”

Even though Katherine wanted to pull Molly in her arms and tell her everything would work out just fine, she also knew she had to set her little sister straight while the incident was fresh in her mind. “You can’t hit every boy who says bad things about me, or you, or anyone we care about. You need to turn the other cheek next time.”

Two black brows drew together in obvious confusion. “Huh?”

Katherine shared a look with Laney. The other woman nodded encouragingly.

Shifting to her knees, Katherine took the child’s face gently into her hands. “What I’m trying to say, Molly, is that when a boy like Bobby says something ugly to you, you have to ignore him and walk away.”

“Even when he calls
you
names?” squeaked Molly.

Katherine dropped her hands. “Especially then.”

Molly scrunched her face into a scowl and chewed on her lower lip. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“It is, baby. Forgiving isn’t easy, but boys like Bobby need it most from us.”

“But he was the one who wronged me.”

“Nevertheless—”

Johnny came barreling around the corner, his winded shouts cutting her off. “Katherine, Laney, we lost Mo—” He came to a halt at the sight of Molly. “Oh, you found her. Whoa! That’s some shiner, kid.”

Laney rose and instantly took charge. Placing her hands on the boy’s shoulders, she spun him around toward town. “Johnny, go get Dr. Bartlett. Tell him it’s an emergency.”

His gaze dropped to her stomach. “Another one?”

“It’s for Molly this time.” Laney’s voice held a stern, unrelenting note. “We think she broke her hand.”

“Oh.” His eyes widened.
“Oh!”

Footsteps pelted the ground as Johnny rushed off and descended the hill back toward town.

“Katherine,” Laney continued, “get that child inside, and try to wash her up as best you can before the doctor arrives.” She raised her voice an entire octave. “And for goodness’ sake, everybody try to stay calm.”

Swallowing back her rising hysteria, Katherine scooped up her sister and started for the house. At least one good thing had come of the incident. God had given her the clarity she’d prayed for.

In the end, Katherine had a responsibility to her sister. There could be no more waffling on the matter of Trey’s proposal, no more worries over her own fears.

Yes, Katherine knew exactly what she would say when she saw Trey again. Of course, the man had to come home in one piece first.

Trey rode at a clipped pace, Logan’s horse easily matching the quick gait. With the cool air shrouding them in a watery mist, defeat hung heavy between them. Trey blew into his cupped palms and tried to ignore the condemnation that seemed to brood in every rock.

They’d failed. For over a month, they’d checked out every possible lead but still hadn’t come close to finding Ike Hayes. And now, thanks to the wasted time searching for the man who’d turned into a phantom, Trey had to push Drew’s trial back another two months.

What was he missing? The instinct that had kept him alive for years kicked in, warning Trey he’d forgotten something important.

Something simple.

Silence clung to the edges of the gray morning, and exhaustion etched across Trey’s soul; bitter failure circled around his heart.

He wanted the hunt over, wanted relief from this consuming hatred. He wanted
freedom.

Katherine had claimed God was the way to Trey’s liberty. And with time, both healing and forgiveness would come. All Trey knew was the impossible had happened. Katherine and Molly had inched their way into his heart. And now he needed both in his life, more than he’d thought possible.

Trey scowled, not sure which bothered him more—shoving Drew’s trial back or Ike’s continued freedom. Every day his nemesis continued to run free, Trey’s anger grew more pronounced, rooting deeper into his soul.

Would Trey be able to come back from the violence once the hunt was over? With Ike’s death, would Trey find the freedom he now craved?

Or was it too late for him?

As though sensing his edginess, his horse snorted and shifted beneath him. Trey patted the beast’s neck until he settled into a rhythmic gait again. Clearing his thoughts, he surveyed the open terrain with a watchful eye. Although the sun was just peeking over the horizon, the day felt crooked to him. Off balance.

“Now what do we do, Marshal?”

Trey’s mind cut back to Logan. He was just agitated enough to take out his frustration on his deputy. “First, you’re going to refigure last year’s expenditures, column by column, month by month. Then you’re going to head to Mattie’s and find a girl more talkative than the madam. Then—”

Logan cut him off with a snort. “Am I being punished for something?”

With one quick slash of his hand, Trey dismissed Logan’s question. “It’s time we both got back to our assigned duties.”

“But what about Ike?”