The Marshal Takes a Bride (15 page)

As soon as Logan’s words were out of his mouth, the solution came to Trey. In truth, he couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to realize the obvious.

He’d been so bent on chasing after the outlaw, he’d forgotten the simplest tactic of war—find the enemy’s weakness, magnify it, then render it useless and ineffective. “We’re going to wait and let him come to us.”

“We’re going to
what?
”

Trey ignored his deputy’s shock and allowed his mind to work through the particulars. He remembered Mattie’s evasion when he’d questioned her about Ike, her parting threat when he’d turned his back on her and, lastly, Ike’s devotion to his little brother. “I’d stake my life on the fact that Ike Hayes is on his way to Denver, if he’s not already there.”

Logan’s face scrunched into a look of deep concentration; he was obviously trying to work through Trey’s logic. “How do you figure that?”

“He’s got reasons.”

Logan’s eyes lit up. “Drew.”

“And Mattie.”

Logan grinned. “And we plan to be waiting for him.”

Trey’s lips curled into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Exactly.”

Soon vengeance would be his to take.

R
egardless of Molly’s constant squirming on the kitchen counter, Dr. Bartlett examined her hand without hurting her. Once he finished, he gave Katherine a sad smile.

Apprehension trickled down her spine. “Is it broken?”

“No.” He shook his head. “But it’s badly bruised.”

Relieved, Katherine released a breath and reached out to touch his sleeve. “That’s good news.”

“I’ll say.” Molly slid off the counter, and let out a squeal of joy. “Can I go play now?”

With surprising speed, the doctor caught her at the waist and hoisted her back in place. “Not so fast. We need to bandage your hand to keep you from injuring it any further.”

With a flick of his wrist, he pulled out a roll of bandages and began wrapping the child’s injury. Molly took the opportunity to yank on his hair with her free hand and giggled. “Your hair sticks out kind of funny all over, Dr. Shane.”

He smiled at her, obviously used to the declaration. “I know.”

“I like it,” she declared.

“Well, of course, you do.” He winked at her. “All the smart ladies know what’s what.”

Molly giggled.

Dr. Bartlett grinned.

“Molly’s healthy otherwise?” Katherine asked.

“Very,” he said, without looking at her. “But I’d like you to come to my office this afternoon, Miss Taylor, so we can discuss her, uh…specific needs.”

Katherine’s brows drew together. “I think I know what to do. This isn’t the first injury at Charity House.”

“Nevertheless. I—” He broke off, slanted a quick look at Molly, who was entertaining herself by using her good hand to empty the contents of his medical bag onto the counter beside her.

He lowered his voice to a whisper. “What I have to say is private.”

Katherine felt his urgency but had no idea where it was coming from. Had he heard the talk about her, too? Was he going to condemn her for what she’d supposedly done in the school’s supply closet? Or would he show her compassion, like he had on the night of her attack, when he’d tended her wounds?

There was one way to find out. And she certainly wasn’t going to trek all the way into town when he was standing right next to her in Charity House.

As he continued working on Molly’s hand, Katherine said, “I’ll be right back.”

She stepped into the hallway off the kitchen and motioned Laney to join them. “We’re about finished.”

“Is it broken?” Laney asked, her eyes filled with concern.

“No.”

“Praise the Lord.”

“Would you mind taking Molly upstairs to her room while Dr. Bartlett has a word with me about her care?”

Before Laney had a chance to respond, Katherine gripped her friend by the arm and directed her toward the counter. “I’ll only be a moment behind you.”

Laney’s eyes widened; then she looked from Katherine to the doctor and back to Katherine again. With each pass, speculation glittered deeper in her eyes. “I…see.”

Katherine waved her off. Her friend was reading signs that simply did not exist. “No, you don’t.”

Laney lifted an eyebrow but then shook her head and smiled down at Molly instead of pushing further. “Come on, little one. Let’s get you settled in the bed.”

Molly’s expression turned defiant. “I don’t want to take a nap.”

“You’ve had a trauma, Molly,” Katherine pointed out. “It’s best if you rest for a while.”

“But I feel fine,” Molly whined.

Katherine would not allow the five-year-old to reel her into this argument again. “Then consider it punishment for fighting. If you can’t fall asleep, then use the quiet time to think about what you’ve done and how you will handle Bobby Prescott next time he says something ugly to you.”

At that, Molly’s head dropped at a wayward angle. “Yes, Katherine. I’m really sorry, you know.”

“I know,” said Katherine. She swept a braid off Molly’s shoulder and clutched her gently. “But you’re still going to be punished.”

Head hanging, Molly silently followed Laney out of the kitchen.

Once they were alone, Katherine looked at Dr. Bartlett, noting how his features were set and stern, matched only by the severity of his black coat and crisp white shirt.

Prepared for the worst, Katherine lowered herself in a chair near the counter where Molly had been sitting earlier. “What did you want to discuss with me, Dr. Bartlett?”

Unable to meet her gaze, he shifted from foot to foot. He’d seemed so sure of himself earlier, his hands and manner full of confidence when he’d bandaged Molly’s injury. But now, it was as if he’d become a different man.

Katherine studied him while he silently struggled to put words together. She’d never really noticed how handsome he was. His rumpled dark brown hair, strong features and gentle hands made a woman feel safe in his presence, even a woman with a horrifying past like hers. He was big, like Trey and Marc, but had been blessed with the soothing touch of a healer.

It was a wonder she hadn’t seen any of his finer qualities before now.

“Miss Taylor—” He broke off and set to pacing around the room.

Katherine tapped her foot on the floor, folded her hands in her lap and waited for him to continue.

She watched him move, his grace at odds with his size, his shoulders large enough for a woman to set all her cares upon. Why couldn’t her heart have fallen for this man? Shane Bartlett was handsome, compassionate and…
safe.

The antithesis of Trey Scott.

He stopped pacing, pivoted to face her. Speculation wavered in his gaze. He looked very much like the way he had when he’d watched her in the birthing room with Laney. “Miss Taylor.”

A warning twisted in her stomach. “Yes?”

“All this resurgence of talk about you in town, well, I know it’s not your fault. Does the man who cornered you in the closet know—”

“I wasn’t cornered,” she hastened to explain before he accused Trey of something he hadn’t done. “Nor was I doing what they say I was doing.”

“You weren’t—” He broke off, swallowed, then began again. “You weren’t…kissing a man in the school’s supply closet?”

“Not kissing, no. Or anything else remotely sordid like that. We were just talking. About Molly and her future.”

He gave her an odd look. “Well, whatever you were doing, word is all over town that it was a lot more than talk.”

Katherine blew out a breath. Although Trey hadn’t actually kissed her, in a matter of weeks the gossip had turned decidedly ugly.

“Miss Taylor?” Dr. Bartlett swallowed. “Will the man in question do what is needed to stop the talk?”

She thought of Trey’s parting shot when she’d left him gaping at her in the open field. “Yes. As a matter of fact, he’s asked me to marry him.”

And thanks to the events of today, she’d decided to say yes. That is, if he came back alive, she thought, her heart aching over the terrible prospect.

Oh, Lord, please keep Trey safe. Bring him home so we can sort through this together.

“Well, if he doesn’t—” he touched her sleeve “—I’d like to offer to marry you in his stead.”

She stared at him in genuine confusion. “You’re asking me to marry you?”

His gaze turned solemn. “You can trust that I am sincere.”

Although his tired eyes held conviction, she saw none of the tenderness she’d witnessed so often in Trey’s gaze when he’d discussed marriage. His motives were clearly not from love and caring. So what urged him forward? “Why would you offer such a thing?”

“Miss Taylor, I see you at church every Sunday, in the same seat each week. In spite of your upbringing and what others say, I
know
you are a good Christian woman.”

She smiled at the compliment and then folded her hands in her lap. “What I am, and what others say I am, are obviously at odds with one another.”

“You suffer enough shame because of your mother’s…profession.” He pulled his shoulders forward and broke eye contact as he spoke of her attack. But then he straightened and stared straight into her eyes. “You don’t deserve more of the same, no matter the reason.”

“You’d marry me simply to stop the talk?”

A sorrowful look flickered in his eyes, only to be replaced with a determination she’d never seen in him before. “If not for you, then let me do this for your sister.”

She smiled up at him. “You are a good man.”

He shot her a look that had her sitting straighter in her chair. “This isn’t about simple kindness,” he said. “Or even Christian charity. It’s about protecting an
innocent
child from the heat of scandal.”

She couldn’t help but wonder if there was more underneath Shane Bartlett’s calm exterior than she had at first realized. His severe expression told her this was not a man to trifle with, especially on this subject. Which made it imperative that she set him straight. “This is sweet of you, but completely unnecessary.”

“No child should bear this kind of shame. Nor should you,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

Katherine studied his face for a long, long moment. “You needn’t worry about what the good folk of Denver will think of me.”

If anything, he set his shoulders at a more determined angle than before. “You’re a schoolteacher. Your reputation must be above reproach.”

“I will never be considered a decent woman.” She ignored his flinch and continued. “Let’s not pretend otherwise. I do know what they say behind my back.”

Even now, she could hear the words of condemnation echoing in her head. Words whispered within earshot in her own neighborhood.

His gaze hardened. “What do they say?”

She pitched her voice up an octave. “Oh, that’s Katherine Taylor, the daughter of that harlot, Sadie. Bet she’s just like that no-good mother of hers.”

He nodded, a sage look coming into his eyes. “Guilt by association.”

Determined to let Dr. Bartlett know she wasn’t living in a cocoon, that she knew exactly what was said about her by the “good” citizens of Denver, Katherine continued. “Exactly. They assume I’m just like my mother and all that that implies.”

He winced, his face set and stern.

Katherine couldn’t help but think there was more to the doctor’s strong reaction besides concern for her. But now wasn’t the time to ask. “Nevertheless, I’m condemned and shunned.”

He paced two steps, then turned to face her, his gaze intense and inflexible. “Perhaps in the eyes of some, you’re
tainted forever. But if we were to marry, we could leave Denver, go someplace where no one knows you or your infamous connections. You would be the wife of a doctor, and Molly would never have to suffer the…whispers.”

Why was he so adamant?

“Leave Denver? But Charity House is our home. Laney took me in when no one else would even look me in the eye. I could never leave—”

“You’d rather Molly suffer the shame of
your
actions instead?” Disapproval glared back at her.

Katherine’s hands flew to her heart, knowing the ridicule that was bound to come to her sister if she didn’t rectify the situation soon. Regardless of what she and Trey had done in that supply closet, word was out. And it wasn’t kind.

The doctor’s expression softened as he wrapped her hands in his and knelt before her again. “Will you at least consider my offer?”

“Thank you for asking, but—”

“I’d be a good husband and father.”

“Yes. I know you would.”

“Does that mean you’ll marry me?”

Oh, what a wonderful, wonderful gesture, to
ask
her, instead of ordering her. It was the kind of consideration that deserved complete honesty in return. “I can’t.”

“But—”

She pulled one of her hands free, pressed it to his lips when he tried to speak again. “Please, don’t ask me again. I do appreciate your offer, but I don’t love you.” She worked her other hand free and clasped his shoulders, ensuring he’d look her straight in the eye. “And you don’t love me.”

“Love?”
He spat out the word. “This has nothing to do with something so trivial. This is about protecting a child from spiteful talk.”

His intensity told its own story. Shane Bartlett had very strong beliefs on the matter.

The question, of course, was why.

“This has everything to do with love,” she said. “And when you’re captured by the emotion yourself, you’ll understand why I’m doing both of us a favor by saying no to your offer.”

“And I can’t change your mind?” Though his tone was mild, his expression was grave.

“No.”

He rose, began gathering his things, but stopped and looked at her again. “If the man who threw you into this scandal refuses to marry you, will you reconsider? For Molly, if not for yourself?”

She nodded, hoping for all their sakes it never came to that. “Yes, perhaps I’ll reconsider if the situation warrants.”

“That’s all I ask.” He turned his attention to the table once more and began rolling the remaining bandages.

As she watched him prepare to leave, tears pierced through her composure. In little over a month, two men had asked her to marry them. Two
good
men who knew the details of her horrible past, and
still
they wanted to marry her. Her. Katherine Taylor.

Oh, thank You, Lord. Thank You for showing me in such a substantial way that I’m worthy of a man’s caring, and that I’m so much more than what happened to me that night two years ago.

Dr. Bartlett made it to the door, stopped, then turned back to her. “Marshal Scott returned late this morning with
his deputy. Perhaps you’ll want to talk with him right away.”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “How did you know? Has talk been that specific?”

He shrugged. “I don’t think so, but I see things.”

If Shane Bartlett knew about her and Trey, did others as well? “Did I, I mean, was I…that easy to read?”

“No.” He twisted the door handle, his lips descending into a sympathetic grimace. “He was.”