The Inheritance (42 page)

Tears glistened in her eyes.

“And who makes this man want to spend the rest of his life proving to her that she can.” He held out the box. “Not to mention a woman who makes the best saddles in all the western territory.”

Her eyes widened. “You know?”

Oh how he wanted to kiss her. And if he was reading her right, she was more than open to the idea. “What did I tell you about looking at a man that way when he couldn’t do anything about it?”

She grinned, and he pulled her to him and kissed her. He’d meant for their first kiss to be more tender, slow and gentle, but the way her arms came around him, pulling him closer, the way she responded, deepening the kiss, drove the desire inside him. Their bodies touching, he memorized the curves of her waist, the small of her back, how she felt pressed up against him. The warmth of her hand as she cradled the back of his neck encouraged him further—

Remembering where they were, Wyatt drew back. “McKenna!” he whispered.

Her eyes were still closed, her lips parted. She was wearing a purple dress today, one he hadn’t seen before. But he liked it, very much. Especially on her. It buttoned up the front, and the lacey curve of the bodice revealed her neckline. The dress wasn’t at all improper, but the thoughts he was having about her right now bordered on being just that.

She blinked. “Y-yes?”

He smiled and ran a finger over her mouth, and put more distance between them. “You need to open your gift.”

She gave him an intimate look. “I thought I already had.”

Oh this woman . . . It was a good thing they were in church.

She opened the box in her hand, and giggled.

He didn’t mind in the least. He’d had about the same reaction when he’d first seen it. The woman in the store in Denver had called it a charm bracelet. But it was the tiny saddle hanging off it—among other miniature trinkets—that had gained his attention.

She held up the bracelet and fingered each tiny charm. “I love it! Thank you, Wyatt.” For a long moment, she stared. “I wish you were presiding over this today.”

He cupped her face in his hands. “We’ll get through this. God’s waiting for you in there, right now, just as surely as He’s already waiting for you . . . in the moment this ruling is decided.”

They heard footsteps, and Wyatt put more distance between them.

Billings and another man, one Wyatt assumed was Harrison Talbot, walked into the church and nodded in their direction. Wyatt did likewise but couldn’t shake the feeling he’d seen the second man before. Yet he knew he’d never met him. He’d only seen him from a distance on the ranch.

McKenna worked to open the clasp on the bracelet. Wyatt helped her put it on her wrist, feeling clumsy with the delicate chain.

Dr. Foster peered around the corner. “Judge Hawkins says he’s ready, Miss Ashford.”

She nodded. “Thank you, Doctor. I’m coming.”

“Ma’am, may I say again how sorry I am about all this with your brother. I stopped by the jail and checked on him last night before he was transferred. He’s doing fine and—”

“Robert was transferred?” McKenna looked from the doctor to Wyatt.

Wyatt watched a blush creep into her cheeks. But this time, it wasn’t from his kiss. “I was going to tell you, McKenna. When the timing was right.”

Dr. Foster’s expression turned sheepish. “I’m sorry, I assumed you knew, ma’am. I–I’ll see you both inside.” He disappeared around the corner.

McKenna took a step toward Wyatt. “When was Robert transferred? And where is he going?”

“He left this morning, and he’s on his way to Denver.”

She searched his eyes. “And you knew?”

He nodded. “I arranged it, this past week. He’s in good hands. With another marshal I’ve served with for years. Robert will stay in the Denver jail until he stands trial in a month or two.”

“A month or
two
?”

“It could be longer, depending on when we track down the third man. But we’ll get him. Then he and Robert will stand trial together for what they’ve done.”

“Robert didn’t kill the U.S. Marshal. I’m sure of it.”

Wyatt wanted to be certain too, but wasn’t.

McKenna turned and walked to the door of the church. She took several deep breaths. “You could have told me.”

He came up close behind her, but didn’t touch her. “If I had, what would you have done?”

She gave an abrupt laugh. “I would have tried to stop you. I would have tried to change your mind.”

He spoke as tenderly as he could. “Neither of which would have happened, McKenna.”

“I know,” she whispered, and bowed her head. “Will you be going there? To Denver?”

“On occasion.”

“Will you see him?”

Wyatt knew where she was headed. “Yes, I’ll make sure I see him.”

“Perhaps I can go with you, on occasion.”

When he didn’t answer, she slowly turned back.

Her eyes said she already knew, but Wyatt stated it so she would understand what he’d done. “I’ve asked the judge to limit Robert’s visitors. Not to punish him, but in the hope that, given time, alone, with the right people helping him, he’ll realize what path he’s on and decide to make better choices.”

“And my name won’t be on that list, will it?”

“No, it won’t.” Wyatt took hold of her hand, and was grateful when she didn’t pull away. “That’s not because you don’t love him, McKenna. I know you do. I’ve seen it. But what Robert needs right now is a different kind of love.”

She looked down at their hands.

It had taken him years to learn this, and he’d learned it in the crucible. From God. He didn’t know how else to say it, other than this. “Break me, Lord, until I’m wholly yours.”

Her head came up.

“That’s been my prayer for years . . . for myself. And it’s been my prayer for Robert, since the day I met him.”

She squeezed his hand tight. “How are you so sure that this is what he needs?”

Wyatt saw the fledging trust in her eyes. She was struggling, wanting to understand. And like blowing softly on kindling until it caught flame, he wanted to nurture that trust. “Because it’s what I needed when I was about Robert’s age—and nearly killed a man.”

Seconds passed in silence. She slowly shook her head. “No . . . that’s not possible.”

“I’m not the same man now that I was then, McKenna. My father loved me enough to let God deal with me in the consequences of what I’d done. And God did. He’ll do the same for Robert, too, if we’ll only let Him.”

THIRTY-NINE

M
r. Talbot, I appreciate your testimony today. Miss Ashford, yours has been . . . enlightening.” Seated at a desk on the platform stage, Judge Hawkins glanced at his notes, seeming to enjoy the elevated position. “Vince and Janie Talbot’s daughter is a most disarming child, and meeting with her this afternoon greatly aided my ability to make this decision so swiftly. So my thanks to you, Miss Ashford, for your assistance in that.”

McKenna heard a trace of sarcasm in his voice, and she forced herself to maintain Judge Hawkins’s appraising stare. Something in his manner, in the way he looked down at her over his glasses made her stomach churn.

Seated beside her, Wyatt gave her hand a discreet squeeze on the pew between them. He moved to pull away, but she held on. It still didn’t seem possible—she tried to picture Wyatt at Robert’s age, nearly beating a man to death for cheating at a hand of poker. While she wasn’t fully convinced that Wyatt’s approach with Robert would work, she knew with growing certainty that whatever she had been doing hadn’t.

The proceedings had been surprisingly informal, given they were being held in a church. Wyatt had told her Judge Hawkins could be harsh. But Judge Hawkins had given new meaning to that word. How he’d learned about what had happened in St. Joseph, she didn’t know. But as Billings had alluded to that day in his office, the world wasn’t nearly as large a place as it used to be. Seeing herself through Judge Hawkins’s eyes had been a most unpleasant experience. Especially with Wyatt present. She’d never before had her shortcomings and failures painted in such a stark light.

They’d taken a brief recess for lunch, and she and Wyatt had gone to Chin Li and Mei’s to see Emma. Mei had served a delicious-looking meal, but McKenna hadn’t eaten much. Neither had Wyatt. All she’d wanted to do was to hold Emma.

She’d been so sure Harrison Talbot was a fraud, yet it seemed as if he could actually be Vince Talbot’s brother. He’d produced private documents substantiating his claim, and he also knew personal information about Vince and Janie that an outsider could never have known. Still, McKenna’s instinct told her something was amiss, and he wasn’t the man he professed to be.

But Judge Hawkins clearly didn’t share her opinion.

“First, my ruling on the property belonging to Vince and Janie Talbot.” Judge Hawkins looked down at his notes. “Based on the absence of a written will from Mr. Vince Talbot, in whose name the land deed was registered, I must rule in compliance with the laws of land ownership in the State of Colorado. Mrs. Janie Talbot’s name was not recorded on the deed. She did not have legal ownership of the property, and thus did not possess the right to bequeath the property to her cousin.

“However, the property was in foreclosure at the time of Mr. Vince Talbot’s death. Therefore, the statutes of foreclosure supersede those of inheritance law. And I am hereby recommending to the State of Colorado that the property be sold at auction on the fifteenth of October, at the courthouse in Denver.” He peered down at her. “Miss Ashford, you have until that date, and no longer, to vacate the premises. You may take with you from the home only what you brought. Everything belonging to Vince and Janie Talbot must remain.”

Feeling her hope being ripped from her, McKenna managed a nod. In itself, losing the homestead wasn’t nearly as important as it once had been. Her heart was fixed solely on the one thing she wanted to leave here with today—her true inheritance from Janie—Emma Grace Talbot. But if she didn’t have the ranch, she didn’t have a place to raise Emma, to provide a stable home for her. Perhaps Judge Hawkins would overlook that in light of the obvious care she’d given the child, but that hope was a thinning ball of twine quickly unwinding.

“Miss Ashford . . .”

She looked up at Judge Hawkins.

“As I stated earlier, your testimony has enlightened these proceedings.
Though I dare say, not in the light you might have desired. That being said, I assure you that the care you attempted to give this child was taken into consideration.”

McKenna’s breath caught.
Attempted to give?

Wyatt gripped her hand.

“In ruling on the custody of Mr. and Mrs. Vince Talbot’s daughter”—Judge Hawkins glanced again at his notes—“I am recommending to the State of Colorado that Emma Grace Talbot be removed from Miss Ashford’s care and that a home more comparable to what Vince and Janie Talbot provided for their daughter be sought on the child’s behalf.”

Numb and disbelieving, McKenna remained seated on the pew, but she felt as if she were not in her body anymore. She saw the judge’s lips moving but didn’t hear him. She blinked hard, knowing she needed to be paying attention. Wyatt had said God was with her in the moments before they’d walked in here, as surely as He was waiting for her when Judge Hawkins made his ruling. But she couldn’t see God anywhere in this.

“Emma Talbot is very young,” Judge Hawkins continued, “and I believe that with the proper nurture and emotional stability that a home with both a father and mother will provide, the child will flourish and will little remember the difficult time she’s endured in recent months.” The judge leveled his gaze. “You are a most enterprising woman, Miss Ashford.” He said it in a way that didn’t sound complimentary. “While that is of concern to me, for many reasons, it did not influence my final decision. The motivation behind my decision today is your inability to provide for the child’s basic physical needs, as well as your inability to provide a traditional, nurturing environment for Emma Talbot, such as, I have no doubt, her parents would have desired for her.”

Feeling herself unravel, McKenna bowed her head, unable to maintain his gaze.

“I will add, Miss Ashford—at the risk of causing further injury, but in the hope of providing understanding—that I did consider the recent path your brother has taken. His . . . altercations shed light on himself, most certainly, but also on you. After all, you were and are the main parental influence in his life. I felt I would be remiss in my duties had I not taken that into consideration when making my decision.”