Finally a Bride (34 page)

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Authors: Vickie Mcdonough

Tags: #Western, #Love Stories, #Christian Fiction, #Texas, #secrecy, #Historical, #Christian, #Romance, #Mail Order Brides, #Fiction, #Redemption, #Historical Fiction, #Religious, #Man-Woman Relationships, #General

BOOK: Finally a Bride
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“Well now, what’ve we got here? Eh?” The man responsible for her precarious position leaned over the rail and grinned. The light shining out the window illuminated him. Several days’ worth of sparse whiskers coated his cheek and chin, looking like mange on a dog. He belched, sending a putrid stench Jack’s way.

She couldn’t do a thing.
Go away!

If she so much as whispered, the mayor would hear her. And what would he do if he found her spying on him a second time?

The drunk swatted at her arm. “Come over hear and give ol’ Harvey a smooch. Yer a purty little thang.”

“Git!” the mayor yelled.

Jack plastered her cheek against the building. Her fingers slipped. If that man didn’t leave soon, she was in serious danger of falling. The drunk leaned over—and Jack hoped and prayed he didn’t choose that moment to spew the contents of his belly all over her.

“C’mere.” He snagged hold of her sleeve, then lost his balance and tilted over the rail. “Whoopsie-daisy.”

She closed her eyes, expecting him to knock her off her perch. When no collision occurred she peered out of one eye. Relief made her weak—and she sure didn’t need any more weakness—to see he had righted himself on the landing.

“I said get out of here. Can’t decent men have a meeting in quiet?” the mayor yelled. Footsteps sounded in Jack’s direction.

Yikes! Fall or get caught?

Neither option was favorable.

The drunk regrouped and took another swipe at her but missed. She hoped he’d attract the mayor’s attention so he wouldn’t notice her.

Falling was better than getting caught. Jack let go.

The mayor slammed the window shut.

Jack hurled downward, her skirts snapping like a flag in a wind storm.

 

“Tell us another story, Miss Carly.” Abby sat on her bed in her nightgown, bouncing her legs.

“Not tonight, sweetie. Emmie is already asleep.” She lifted the toddler off her lap and held her tight against her chest as she stood. She kicked out her skirts and carried Emma to her bed.

“Puh-leasse.” Abby held out her doll and danced her across the quilt.

“Shh … I said no.” She pulled a sheet over Emmie and placed a kiss on her head. Oh, how she’d grown to love these children. If she had to leave and move on one day, her heart would break.

“Miss Carr—llyy, I gotta go.”

She turned toward Abby, putting her hands on her hips like she’d seen Jacqueline do. “Are you telling the truth?”

Abby nibbled her lip, then looked down at the floor.

“That’s what I thought. Lie back now. It’s time to sleep.”

The girl did as told, but her frown proved she wasn’t happy about bending her will. Suddenly her gaze turned apprehensive. “But Sissy’s not home. I’m scared to go to sleep without her.”

Carly laid the sheet over Abby’s body. Was she really afraid, or was this another bedtime stalling tactic?

“Abby, you know that’s not true.” Luke walked into the room, making it seem smaller.

“But Papa …”

“No more talking. Time to go to sleep.” He leaned over and kissed Abby’s cheek. “I love you, punkin.”

Carly left the room and started down the stairs. Luke turned off the bedroom lamp and followed behind her, chuckling. “That one is such a fireball. Reminds me of Jack when she was younger, although I didn’t know her at Abby’s age.”

Carly didn’t miss the regret in his voice. “I have to admit, I can’t yet tell when she’s pullin’ my leg or bein’ truthful.”

Luke joined her in the entryway, shaking his head. “Neither can I, and I’m her father—and a lawman. And Alan’s almost as bad.”

“I never realized how difficult raising children can be.” She’d probably never have any of her own. She ducked her head and studied the floor. A large ant crawled out from under the hall tree. Before she could even reach in her pocket for her handkerchief, Luke squashed the intruder.

“Raising children can be hard at times, but it’s worth all the effort.” A soft smile tugged at his lips.

Carly continued to be amazed at how he’d welcomed her into his home, given their past history. How he entrusted the care of his children to her. He didn’t seem to hold any animosity toward her for her past.

He glanced down, his brown eyes anxious. The sun had ironed permanent creases in the tanned skin beside his eyes. His brown hair, the color of a pecan shell, had touches of gray at the temples and sideburns. “I wonder if I might ask a favor of you.”

“Of course. Anything.”

His smile turned him from a rugged lawman to handsome. “I’d like to get Rachel out of the house and take her for a short walk. Would you mind tending the baby and keeping an ear out for the children?”

“I’d be happy to.” She loved holding the baby. It was her first time to be around one other than at church or when a young mother would visit Tillie.

“I’d be much obliged. We won’t be gone long. I know Rachel is tired, but the fresh air will do her some good and maybe even help her sleep.” He glanced at the window beside the front door. “Hmm … I wonder where Half Bit is. Do you know?”

Carly shook her head. “No, she was hanging up the diapers last time I saw her. Come to think of it, she didn’t come in afterward.”

He strode toward his bedroom. “Rachel and I can look for her. I’m sure she just got distracted chasing a rabid boar or trying to interview a cattle rustler for that paper.” He shook his head and turned into the bedroom.

Rabid boar? Carly chuckled. She remembered all the stories about Jacqueline that Rachel had written to her while she was in prison. Those letters and Rachel’s encouragement had kept her going when things seemed more than she could bear.

She walked into the dining room, turned up the lamp, and checked to make sure everything was in place. A light breeze blew in the window, but a flash of lightning pulled her across the room. If a storm blew in, she didn’t want the floor to get wet. She shut the window and stared out, waiting for another flash.

Footsteps sounded behind her, and she turned. Luke strode in with Andrew on one arm. The baby’s head rested in his father’s hand, while the tiny body lay across Luke’s forearm. Andrew looked so much smaller when Luke held him.

“Here you go. Rach’ said he still needs to be patted since he just finished his supper.” Luke handed her a clean diaper and waited while she draped it over her shoulder then passed his son to her.

“Take care of him.”

“I will.” Cuddling the baby, she walked around the table, satisfying herself that all was in order and no food had been overlooked on the floor. Then she turned down the lamp. In the dimly lit parlor, she sat in the rocking chair and patted the baby’s back. She liked sitting in the dark. It was a habit she’d developed in prison, not by choice but because the lights were turned off shortly after supper.

In the dark, she’d been able to pretend she was somewhere else—anywhere except the hot cell she’d been locked in. She closed her eyes and laid her head back. Andrew squirmed, pumping his legs, and uttered a squeak.

Footsteps echoed down the hall. Luke and Rachel stopped at the front door. He opened it, but she turned toward the parlor.

“Andy’s fussing. Maybe I should stay.” Rachel nibbled her lower lip and took a step in Carly’s direction.

Luke snagged her arm. “Nope. C’mon, Mama, Andrew is fine, your other little chicks are in the coop, and now the rooster wants to take a walk with you.”

Rachel laughed and took his arm. “Why, you have such a way with words, Marshal Davis.”

“Yep.”

The door closed, leaving Carly alone. She loved how Luke and Rachel teased one another and joked. Loved the affection brimming from their eyes whenever one stared in the other’s direction. She loved it, but it only emphasized what she’d never have.

No man wanted a convict for a wife. The women in prison had told her as much, not that many of them seemed to care if they married. And neither had she until she’d come back to Lookout and observed how a couple in love lived.

Now she wanted it all. A husband. A home. Children.

She glanced up at the dark ceiling. “Help me to turn loose of those dreams, Lord. They only cause me anguish.”

Andrew jerked and screeched. Carly stood and bounced him up and down. She glanced at the front door. How long would Luke and Rachel be gone? What should she do if the baby had a problem?

She walked down the hall, bouncing little Andrew and patting his back. The baby stiffened and wailed. If she didn’t get him quiet, he might wake the other three, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to handle all four children at once.

“Shhh, little fellow. You’re all right.” Her crooning helped but the moment she stopped, he kicked out his legs, and she nearly dropped him. “Hey now, settle down. Your mama will be back soon.”

A knock sounded, startling Carly. She stared at the front door, knowing it wasn’t locked. Who could be knocking at this hour?

Whoever it was pounded harder. Maybe there was a problem and someone wanted the marshal. She hurried to the door, baby crying, and peeked outside. Garrett Corbett’s oh-so-beautiful blue eyes stared back, illuminated by dim light in the parlor. June bugs and moths flittered around the porch lantern. “Well, c’mon in before you let all the bugs inside.”

He hurried through the door, shut it, and yanked off his western hat, revealing a sweat line that darkened his blond hair. “That wasn’t exactly the greeting I was expecting.” He flashed a teasing smirk. “What’s wrong with Andy?”

“Sorry. And I don’t know. He was fine until Rachel left. I’m supposed to pat him until he belches, but it’s not working.” Tears blurred her view of her guest. She wasn’t qualified to care for a baby.

“Let me see him.”

She tightened her grip on Andrew, raising her voice to be heard over his frantic wails. “What do you know about babies?”

“Watch and learn.” He lifted Andrew out of her arms and carried him into the darkened parlor. He perched on the end of a chair, then set the baby on his lap. Holding the baby upright with his neck and head supported, Garrett patted circles on the baby’s back. Andrew continued screeching.

“You’re gonna wake the other children. Let me have him back.” Carly reached for him.

Andrew stiffened suddenly, then a huge belch erupted from the tiny child, followed by a white arc of sputum.

“Ah!” Garrett spread his legs, but not fast enough. The milky white steam spread across his left leg.

Carly couldn’t help the giggle that worked its way up. Garrett stared at his pants, unable to take his eyes off the stain. She covered her mouth and bent over, laughing harder than she had in years.

“It’s not funny.” He glared up at her.

“Yes it is. You should have seen your face.” She yanked the diaper off her shoulder and handed it to him.

“Here, take this scoundrel. I try to make him feel better and he does
this
to me.” He passed Andrew to her and attacked his pants with the diaper. “That’s no way to say thanks, kid.”

“At least he’s quiet now.”

Garrett grunted and held up the nasty wad of cloth. “Got another one of these?”

“Yes, just a minute.” She turned up the lamp then hurried back to Rachel and Luke’s room and laid Andrew in his cradle, hoping he’d be happy for a few minutes. In the kitchen, she grabbed a towel, dunked it in the water bucket, and took it to Garrett.

He scrubbed his pants like a man trying to wash away his sins. She noticed a spot on the floor and stooped down beside him to mop it up with a dry towel. His hand stilled, and she glanced up and found him watching her. She swallowed hard and stood. He copied her, which left them only a few feet apart.

Carly cleared her throat and backed away, wondering at the odd sensations surging through her body. “Did you … uh … need to see the marshal?”

Garrett shook his head and kept gawking at her. She glanced down to make sure she didn’t have a button unfastened or some food on her bodice. She’d never been comfortable staring men in the eye. Generally, she saw things in their gaze that she didn’t want to see, and that scared her.

“Um … well, did you need to talk to Rachel?” she asked.

“No.”

Perplexed, she looked up. “If you came to see Jacqueline, she’s not here.”

“I didn’t.”

Carly shoved her hands to her hips. “All the children are in bed, so what are you doing here?”

The tiniest of smiles lifted his lips. “I came to see you.”

“Me?” She blinked, trying to remember if there was something she was supposed to give him or tell him, but nothing came to mind. “Whatever for?”

His smiled faded. “I thought you might like to take a walk.”

“A walk?”

He nodded.

“Why?”

He shrugged one shoulder.

“It’s getting ready to storm.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is. I saw lightning.”

He stepped closer, and she tried to back up, but her calves bumped the coffee table.

“The storm is moving away from town,” he said.

“Oh. Well, how do you know?”

“I’ve lived in Texas my whole life. I know.”

“Oh.” Unable to hold his steady gaze, she glanced around the room. Why was he here again?

“So, do you wanna?” He held out his palms as if to hold her hand, begging her with his eyes to agree.

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