Finally a Bride (40 page)

Carly stood on the edge of the field where folks had laid out their quilts and watched the children playing. The younger ones, their bellies full of their mamas’ cooking, played with less enthusiasm than they had when church had first let out. She watched Alan and Abby playing hopscotch for a few minutes, making sure the rambunctious children were behaving. Several older girls sat in a cluster together, chatting and making chains of clover flowers. She’d never once made one. Didn’t even know how they hooked those long stems and white flowers together. She swiped her hand in the air at a pesky fly and chased it away.

As far back as she could remember, she had helped her mama wash clothes from sunup to sundown. Hauling water, carving soap chips, squeezing clothes, and hanging them up, then taking them down later to be ironed and folded. Even today, she couldn’t resist shuddering when Rachel needed help with the laundry. She’d rather clean a privy.

Would life have been different if she’d had a father? Would her mama still have had to work so hard? Would she?

Pressing her lips together, she blew a heavy breath out her nose. She would never know—and wishing life were different wouldn’t change the past. But she could hope the future would be different.

She scanned a crowd of men standing near the horses and wagons and found Garrett beside Luke. They stood with a half dozen others in a rough circle. One man raised his fist, and though she couldn’t hear the words, she suspected they were talking about the murder. Everybody had been talking about it. From what Rachel had said, it was the first that had ever taken place in Lookout.

Garrett glanced in her direction and winked. She smiled back, feeling heat warm her cheeks that had nothing to do with the sun. Two women dressed in calico and sunbonnets walked between her and Garrett. One lady glanced at her and scowled, then leaned toward her friend and said something.

Her smile fading, Carly looked away, feeling the brunt of their silent censure. She zigzagged her way through the groups of families, back to the Davises’ quilt, wishing Rachel had come or that Jack would return. She smiled a thank-you to Mrs. Castleby for keeping an eye on Emmie while she slept on the quilt.

After sitting and rearranging her skirt, Carly leaned her head back against one of the few trees shading the field. Her eyes drifted shut, and she yawned. Taking a nap right about now would be nice, but the wedding was soon to start. The steady hum of conversation lulled her into a limp state, and her whole body relaxed, her arms felt as heavy as leg irons.

On the other side of the old oak tree, two women chatted about a recipe, but she tried to ignore them. She lifted up a heavy hand and swatted at a mosquito that landed on Emmie’s calf. She sighed. If only she knew more people.

“What’dya think about that murder—and those break-ins? Ghastly, aren’t they?” one lady behind her said. Carly stiffened.

“Yes, it’s getting so that a decent woman’s afraid to walk the streets of Lookout these days.”

Carly rolled her eyes at the woman’s exaggeration.

“Well, if’n you ask me, I think it was that female outlaw. All these appalling things didn’t happen until after she came back to Lookout.”

Carly gasped, their cruel words breaking her fragile hope. Unable to listen to any more nattering, she pushed up from the quilt. Her heart ached. Would these people never accept her? Couldn’t they see she’d changed?

She scooped Emmie up in her arms and looked for Luke. She noticed Garrett instead, talking to Mr. Howard, and made a beeline for him. He smiled in her direction. Mr. Howard turned his head, looking right at her, and one brow lifted. But instead of censure in his gaze she saw surprise, then his mouth curved up in a grin. Too bad Leah had left earlier to go feed her baby. At least she and Carly had something in common.

Garrett leaned toward Mr. Howard, who nodded. Then Garrett walked toward her. His smile dipped. “Is something wrong?”

Carly shrugged, unable to explain her unease. He’d lived in this town his whole life. How could she expect him to understand how badly the woman’s unjustified accusations had hurt?

“I thought I’d take Emmie home. The sun is moving toward our quilt, and I don’t want her to get a sunburn.”

“But what about the wedding?”

Carly shrugged. “I don’t know those folks gettin’ married, other than she owns the store, and he once hoped to marry Rachel and also your brother’s wife—before she married Mark, of course.”

Garrett leaned toward her and waggled his blond brows, his blue eyes sparking with mischief, somewhat soothing the pain the callous women had inflicted. “Don’t you want to get some ideas for our weddin’?”

“You don’t wanna marry me.” Tears stung her eyes, frustrating her. She never cried—not even when Luke had hauled her to jail all those years ago. Not even when her brother sat in the cell next to hers, giving her the skunk eye and blaming her for his capture, for hours on end. Only Luke’s threats to gag Ty and hog-tie him made him finally shut up.

Garrett grabbed her elbow and hauled her toward the edge of the crowd. Folks gawked at her as if she’d done something wrong or was trying to steal Luke’s young’un. Standing between two wagons, so that nobody could see them, he dropped her arm and shoved his hands to his hips. “Why would you say that? I wouldn’t have asked to court you if I didn’t intend on marryin’ you.”

Carly shifted Emmie to her other arm. The girl was small, but heavy.

“Let me hold her.”

“No, I need to take her home. Could you tell Luke and then help him keep an eye out for Alan and Abby until Jacqueline returns?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you changed the subject.”

A horse behind Carly nickered, as if asking for a handout. Why couldn’t Garrett just let her go without causing a ruckus? “I prayed and thought God gave me the go-ahead, but I’m foolin’ myself to think we could ever marry.”

“Why?” His face crinkled up, making him look as if he’d been sucking on lemons. “Am I too old for you? Is that it?”

“What?” Carly blinked, confused at his question. In truth, he didn’t look anywhere near forty. His shoulders and arms were muscled from lifting crates of cargo for years, and his blond hair wasn’t thinning or turning white. He no longer favored the arm he got shot in or wore the sling. He didn’t look overly old at all. “No. I’ve never thought that.”

She nibbled on her lower lip and stared at the closest vehicle. The black paint of the spring wagon was partly worn off, revealing the grayed wood underneath. Stuffing hung out one corner of the padded front bench. Right now, she felt as worn out as the buggy. “It’s just that … can’t I tell you later? Emmie’s really getting heavy.”

He rubbed his nape, then scratched the back of his head. “I guess so.”

“You’ll let Luke know I’ve got Emmie and to watch out for the other young’uns?”

He nodded, but he didn’t look too pleased. “Luke’s talking with that ranger over there.” He nudged his chin to the right. “Stay here for a minute and let me run and tell him; then I can carry Emmie and escort you back home.”

Carly offered him a weak smile. “Thank you, but that isn’t necessary. The wedding will be starting soon, and you need to be here.”

“Just wait.” He held up his hands, palms out, then backed away. “I’ll be right back.”

Carly watched him jog off, her heart already feeling his loss. She’d dared to dream of marriage and family—of having a permanent home—but she should have known dreams don’t come true for people like her. Folks would always think of her as an outlaw. Hadn’t those women proved that?

Batting her burning eyes, she wove between the haphazardly parked wagons and buggies, down the street toward the boardinghouse. She shifted Emmie to her shoulder to relieve her shaking arm and patted the child’s back.

Maybe it was best for all if she just moved on to another town.

Chapter 29

J
ack sat in the church pew for the second time that day, cocooned by her family. Holding Abby, who was nearly asleep, Ma sat on her left, while Alan leaned against Jack’s right side, kicking one leg and pouting at having to come back to church again when he’d rather play with his friends. Luke proudly jiggled Andrew, alternating between staring at his newest son and watching the wedding. Even the ranger who’d come to see Luke had decided to attend the wedding after getting his fill of food and sat on the far end of the pew.

A sense of peace—of belonging—wrapped around Jack. How could she even consider leaving her family?

Noah’s voice rumbled through the room as he read the vows to Christine Morgan and Rand Kessler, who each recited them in turn. Noah stood straight and tall, his voice confident, but she knew he was nervous about marrying his first couple. She closed her eyes and said the vows along with Mrs. Morgan—only she was saying them to Noah.

Somewhere in the past few days, she’d taken a turn. Dallas no longer held her fascination. Being an ace reporter in the big city had lost most of its attraction, although she hoped to continue to work for Jenny. She had written a letter to the
Dallas Morning News
, declining the job, but she had yet to mail it. Part of her dreaded turning it down. The other part felt at peace with staying in Lookout, but she would continue to pray about it before making a final decision. And how could she possibly think of leaving town until things were settled with Noah?

Was she making a huge mistake? Throwing away her dream just when it was within her reach?

Or had her dream changed? Caring for Noah wasn’t something she’d planned or sought after. It just happened—more quickly than she ever would have believed possible. From the first time her eyes had collided with his, she’d felt that connection. Almost as if he’d come to town just for her.

But that was silly. He simply came for the job and had no former knowledge of her.

“Would you please bow your heads as I ask God’s blessing on this couple?” Noah’s voice pulled her back from her musings. With one hand on Christine Morgan’s shoulder and the other on Rand Kessler’s, he ducked his head and started praying.

Jack caught a glimpse of the thick black hair on the top of Noah’s head, and her fingers moved, aching to touch it. She blew out a heavy sigh. Her ma glanced at her, then closed her eyes again. Jack bowed her head. Why couldn’t she concentrate on the wedding instead of Noah?

Because she had to know if she was just having her first severe case of infatuation or if she was truly falling in love. But how could one know the difference?

Noah was kind, brave, handsome, and made her feel things she’d never wanted a man to make her feel. He reminded her of Luke. Both men were honorable, truthful. Tall. But was she only attracted to Noah because he resembled Luke in so many ways?

She needed to talk to someone. Jenny was too jaded. Penny had never been in love. And Tessa—well, she definitely couldn’t ask Tessa. Noah said, “Amen,” and Jack glanced at her ma. Maybe it was time they had a heart-to-heart talk.

“Mr. Kessler, you may kiss your bride.”

Rand’s smile was as wide as all of Texas. A rosy red stained Mrs. Kessler’s cheeks. The groom ducked down, paused to gaze into his wife’s eyes, then kissed her. Masculine cheers resounded throughout the room.

Jack looked at Noah. He was staring directly at her, a gentle smile pulling at one side of his mouth. She’d kissed that mouth. Her pulse leapt. And she hoped to do it again. Was it shameless of her to enjoy kissing him? To feel completely safe and cherished locked within the minister’s strong arms?

No, not the minister—the man.

Noah.

The couple quit kissing, but their fervent smiles remained. Noah held out his hand toward the newly married couple. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s my pleasure to present to you Mr. and Mrs. Randall Leland Kessler.”

The room filled with cheers and clapping. Abby jerked awake, staring with unfocused eyes. Andrew slept contentedly in his father’s arms. Jack, overwhelmed with emotion, hugged Alan, but the boy pulled away.

“Don’t we get to eat cake now?” he asked.