Never Love a Lawman (50 page)

“Sid and Ned blew the charges in the shaft and buried it,” he reminded her. “There wasn’t anything to find. Now that Jay Mac has the C & C, we’ll be at least six months digging out the bullion.”

“That’s my point. So much effort has been expended to keep the secret that it seems wrong, even a betrayal of the town’s trust, to explain all of it to my family. I only want to see them comfortably set, Wyatt. I can manage that without telling them everything.” She hesitated, resting the damp sponge at the curve of his shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about what I’d like to do with my profits, and I know now that I want to invest in the land.”

“You mean the mine?”

“No, I mean the land. I want to see if it can be returned to something like it was. I keep thinking of the images in your photographs, the beauty that you captured. As the mines play out, it should be like that again. I don’t know what’s possible exactly, but I’d like to try.”

It moved him powerfully that she would want to. He reached for his shoulder and laid his hand over hers, rubbing it gently. “So what will you tell them? Your family, I mean.”

“That I married into money.” Slipping her hand free, she ran the sponge along his back again. “It’s the most reasonable truth.”

Wyatt lifted his head to look around the modest, functional kitchen. He was still waiting for the thaw that would allow him to put in running water, and they didn’t have room to spare for even one of her family or his. “Not an obvious one.”

Rachel’s tone was dry. “My family’s met yours, Wyatt. It’s obvious to them now.” Leaning forward, she kissed him at the nape of his neck. “My mother asked me this afternoon if you were the black sheep.”

“Wonderful.”

She kissed him again, this time on the shoulder. “It’s all right. I explained you were a wolf in black sheep’s clothing.”

He shot her a wry glance. “That must have eased her mind.”

“Oddly, it did. She thought I was being humorous.”

Wyatt wasn’t certain how he was supposed to interpret that, but with Rachel’s mouth hovering near his ear and her tongue poised to lick his wounds, he chose not to take issue. When her teeth caught his earlobe and tugged, he thought he would come out of his skin.

What he did was come out of the water. Shaking droplets and lather left and right, he rose from the tub like the titan Oceanus rising from the sea and made a grab for Rachel. She danced out of his reach and showered him with what remained of the rinse water. For good measure, she tossed the pitcher at him as well. He caught it easily and made a threatening gesture to fill it up and toss it back. That was enough to make Rachel bolt from the kitchen and charge toward the bedroom.

Wyatt followed her damp footprints. They ended about four feet from the bed, proof that she’d covered the last bit of ground in one impulsive leap for the safety of the covers. Now she was cocooned in them. He caught the outer edges of the blankets in two places and yanked hard. Laughing, Rachel obliged him by rolling out of them until she reached the far side of the bed. She loosened the belt of her robe and teased him with a glimpse of her breast and the smooth, creamy flat of her abdomen.

The bed shook as he flung himself across it. He captured her easily, pinning her wrists back and drawing himself up on his elbows so he didn’t crush her. “Did I know you were incorrigible when I agreed to marry you?”

She smiled up at him, unapologetic, and gave him back the response he’d given her. “I’d have to say you had your suspicions.”

Wyatt touched his forehead to hers. “You’re right. I did. It’s what made me fall in love with you.” He lifted his head, touched his mouth to hers, then drew back slightly. “You will marry me, won’t you?”

“Are you proposing, Sheriff?”

“I love you, Rachel Bailey Cooper. Will you marry me?”

“Nicely done.” She made him wait while she pretended to think about it. “I believe I will, thank you.”

Growling softly at the back of his throat, Wyatt gave her wrists a little shake and then proceeded to kiss her so thoroughly that a sigh was all that occurred to her when he was done.

Much later, when she had returned every favor, it was all that occurred to him as well.

Standing at the chancel rail, Wyatt turned toward the doors of the church as they opened. The swell of guests followed his example, every head straining to see the view that captivated him.

Rachel seemed to hover on the threshold, ethereal in her white satin gown, sunlight glancing off the long, draping train. Perfectly poised, she glided toward him without escort, her head held high, her slender throat exposed by the scalloped neckline of the dress she’d been crafting in secret for weeks. As always, there was no hint of hesitation in her step, and she looked neither left nor right, but straight ahead, at him, her eyes clear and bright and full of promise.

Wyatt tapped the rail at his side with his fingertips, counting her carefully measured steps down the aisle, just as he used to when he observed her progress through town. Here she was passing Morrison’s, then Easter’s Bakery from across the way where Abe and Ned were once again engaged in a game of checkers. Johnny Winslow and Henry Longabach tipped their hats as they loitered outside the restaurant. Jacob Reston swiveled in his chair to watch her from the bank window, and the tellers crowded in the doorway. That no-account Beatty boy showed his deep, crescent-shaped dimples when he smiled at her. Ed Kennedy flexed his arms as he straightened over his anvil to bid her a good day. Rudy Martin leaned on his broom in front of the Miner Key when she sailed by, and Artie Showalter waited outside the telegraph office just to greet her.

Wyatt saw that she seemed unaware of the attention she aroused, except for the attention she aroused in him. If he’d been on the sidewalk in front of his office, he’d never have let her pass, and she wouldn’t have wanted him to. She met his eyes, held them, and took another step closer, exactly on the downbeat of his gently tapping finger. He couldn’t look away.

Smiling, he counted it out. Four steps to reach him. Then three. Now two.

As always, watching her was a pleasure.

A pure pleasure.