The Marshal Takes a Bride (12 page)

Either way, Trey wasn’t going to explore the shocking emotion any further. At least, not while he had an unreasonable, panicked father-to-be literally thrashing in his grip.

By the time he’d wrestled Marc to the bottom of the stairs, the fight had left the other man completely. Satisfied he’d won the war, Trey released his hold. But then Laney let out a scream, and Marc’s muscles bunched. He made it up two steps before Trey caught him again and yanked him back down. Tired of the game, Trey slammed his friend against the wall and pinned him there, with a restraining hand against his chest.

“Calm down, Marc. You aren’t helping anyone with this behavior. The kids are petrified.”

Marc jerked forward, but Trey hurled him back into the wall. Shifting his gaze up the stairs, Marc sighed. “Yeah, well, I know the feeling.”

Trey took his friend by the shoulders and shook him. “Get hold of yourself. The children need to see everything’s going to be all right.”

Marc stared at him with an empty expression but stopped fighting.

Trey blew out a hard breath, then called out over his shoulder. “Hey, Johnny, I need you to come out here.”

Johnny sped around the corner, nearly clipping his shoulder on the wall.

“Take Marc into his study. I’ll be right behind you.”

With his face draining of all color, Johnny looked at Marc, then back to Trey. “Not a chance.”

“Don’t worry. He’ll cooperate. If he doesn’t—” Trey glared hard at his friend “—I’ll knock him out.”

Another scream from the second floor sliced through the air. With the strength of three men, Marc broke out of Trey’s grip. Down to his last tactic, Trey wrapped his fingers around his friend’s throat. “Take another step and I’ll make sure you’re out cold for the rest of the day.”

Marc glared back at him. Trey kept his feet poised, prepared to stare down his friend for however long it took to communicate his message.

“I think you mean it,” Marc grunted.

Curving his lips into a fixed smile, Trey nodded. “I do. And at this point, Laney would congratulate me for it.”

Marc glanced up the stairs.

“She’s in good hands,” Trey reminded him. “Let Katherine and Bartlett take care of your wife.”

Trey shut his mind against the fact that Katherine was in that room with the young, handsome doctor, the two working side by side, sharing the miracle of birth…

No, he was being absurd. He had to focus on his
friend, not some petty, selfish jealousy that didn’t have any place here.

With his shoulders slumped, Marc bared his teeth. “When this is over, I’m taking you out.”

Trey grinned. “You’re welcome to try.”

Mumbling that it would be his pleasure, Marc stomped off toward his study. With a nudge from Trey, Johnny followed at a good distance behind.

T
rey waited until Marc rounded the corner before letting out the breath he’d been holding. After taking several more gulps, he turned in the opposite direction and entered the large parlor. Forty pairs of eyes locked with his. The look of solemn despair he saw staring back at him cut through the thin fabric of his confidence.

These children recognized the yells coming from upstairs for what they were—the sounds of a woman in the grip of a dangerous, perhaps even deadly, situation.

Molly tore herself out of one of the other girls’ laps. “Is she gonna live?”

Trey lifted the little girl into his arms. “She’s doing just fine. A little tired, but she’s tough.”

A bloodcurdling scream nearly lifted the roof off its rafters. Molly buried her face in Trey’s neck. “She don’t sound so very tough.”

Trey patted her on the back, smiled at the others. “The hollering is a good sign. Means the baby’s healthy.”

At least, he hoped so.

Realizing he had to get all of their minds off what was happening upstairs, he looked to the oldest girl. “Megan, why don’t you take everyone outside and organize a game of—”

“Baseball. That’s Laney’s favorite.”

“Excellent idea. Choose up teams, and I’ll see if I can get Marc to join you outside.”

Trey tried to set Molly down, but she wrapped her spindly arms around his neck in a tight grip and sobbed. After a few seconds of prying, he gave up. “I’ll just keep Molly with me for now.”

One by one, the kids trooped outside, looking as though they were about to face a firing squad instead of heading out to play. Their calm acceptance tore at Trey. Like him, these children had learned that life was unfair, and that loved ones often died before their time.

How could he help anyone have faith when he had so little himself? Doubt filled him, and his breathing picked up speed. Trey knew about hate, he knew about vengeance and anger, but what did he know about being a parent?

As though he could physically protect Molly from the harsher realities of life, he hugged her hard against him, then looked up to find Mrs. Smythe watching him.

“What can I do to help?” she asked. Her voice sounded brave, but Trey knew from the look in her eyes that she was eaten alive with worry.

“Can you keep an eye on the children for us?”

She nodded. “Of course. And I’ll make sure they eat something later. So, is Laney—” she cocked her head in the general direction of the stairs “—all right?”

Molly whimpered into his shoulder. Trey gently rubbed the little girl’s back as he spoke. “I think so.”

Making sure he spoke in generalities—for Molly’s
sake—he gave the housekeeper details of what he’d seen in the room upstairs.

“Well, sounds like everything’s right on schedule,” she said, relief hunching her shoulders forward. “I’ll handle the children from here.”

Trey nodded, then went in search of Marc.

He found his friend standing by the window in his study, staring at nothing in particular. Johnny stood against the wall on the other side of the room, shifting from foot to foot and looking miserable.

“I’ve got it from here, kid,” said Trey. “The rest are outside, starting up a game of baseball.”

Johnny’s eyes lit with satisfaction. “I’ll be the umpire.”

Trey nodded. “Good idea.”

Once they were alone, Trey was unsure what to say to alleviate Marc’s fears. They lived in a harsh world where good women sometimes died.

Struggling to find words of assurance he didn’t have, Trey moved to the center of the room and sat down in one of the two wing-back chairs. He shifted Molly so she could sit more comfortably on his lap, then spoke softly to the little girl. “It’s going to be all right, kitten.”

Marc turned, focused his gaze on Trey, then dropped it to Molly. Grimacing, he trudged over and ruffled the little girl’s hair. “You scared, too?”

Molly’s lower lip trembled as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I don’t want her to die.”

Marc flinched. “Me neither.”

Trey lowered a kiss to the top of Molly’s head. “She’ll be all right.” He commanded Marc’s stare. “Laney’s strong.”

Marc spun on his heel and started pacing through the room. “I should
never
have touched her.”

Trey recognized the absurdity in his friend’s remark. “It’s the way of husband and wife. Regret now is useless.”

With a sigh, Marc glanced out the window, turned on his heel and tossed his large frame into the chair next to Trey’s. He shut his eyes a moment, crossed himself and then looked toward heaven. “Dear merciful God, please protect my wife. Bring her through this safely.”

Trey wanted to say his own prayer, but it had been so long. Would God still hear him?

Please, God, don’t take Laney, too. Not today. Not yet.

For a prayer, it wasn’t much, but it was all he could manage.

Molly patted his hand and then settled back against him. Trey hugged her a little tighter than before.

After a while, the screams slowed, then eventually stopped altogether. Unfortunately, the ensuing silence was far more frightening than the previous confusion and chaos had been. As the time continued to tick forward, with no word from upstairs, Trey’s mind drifted to the little girl who sat unmoving in his arms.

So much trauma for one so young. Too much death.

How could he be responsible for adding to her agony? And yet, how could he just walk away now?

Wouldn’t that be just as bad?

Molly relaxed her head against his shoulder and eventually dozed off. The moment Trey shut his own eyes, she stirred. With the resilience of youth, she hopped off his lap and grinned. “I think I’ll go play now.”

Trey waved her on her way. “Have fun, kitten.”

Just as Molly left through one door, Katherine burst through the other. She slanted Trey a quick, unreadable look, then turned to Marc.

The other man jumped out of his chair. “How is she?”

“Exhausted, but fine.” Katherine glided over to him and patted his cheek with affection. “Now go meet your daughter.”

Marc slapped his fist into his palm. “A daughter! Did you hear that, Trey?”

“I certainly did.”

Grinning like a little boy, Marc darted out the door. Seconds later his footsteps pounded up the stairs.

Katherine sighed after him. “I never thought I’d see the day when that man panicked like he did this morning.”

Trey rested his hand on her shoulder. “He loves his wife.”

Katherine turned back to him, tears swimming in her eyes. “And she loves her husband.”

Now that he was finally alone with her, Trey had much he wanted to say, but all he could think about was how beautiful she looked in the fading light of the day. A tender feeling clutched his heart as he took in Katherine’s disheveled appearance.

Without thinking too hard about what he was doing, he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly against him. “You did good work today.”

After a moment of hesitation, she sighed and relaxed into him. “God was in the room, guiding us all.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he merely stroked her hair, reveling in her warmth, her strength. “You were amazing. So calm.”

“Thank you, Trey. But let’s not forget, you played an important role as well.” She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. “Confusion ruled until you arrived.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

She chuckled. “I don’t know how you managed to get Marc out of the room.”

“Simple.” He tightened his grip. “I used brute force.”

She let out a long, happy sigh—one of those contented sounds that grabbed a man’s heart and twisted. For a second time in a week, she hadn’t shied away from him. Was she beginning to trust him?

Stepping back, she stared into his eyes. “Laney asked for you, too.”

Knuckling a black, meandering curl off her cheek, he said, “First we should talk. Katherine—”

She pressed her fingertip against his lips. “No, Trey, not yet. Later. We’ll talk later. This is Laney’s moment, not ours.”

He nodded and followed her up the stairs. Once they were back in the room, the tender mood of husband and wife immediately drew Trey’s attention. They sat together on the bed, smiling down at the bundle between them.

Marc looked up first and motioned him forward. “Come on in, Trey.”

Trey hesitated, struck impassive by the change in his friend. Cradling an armload of squirming blankets, the other man looked as contented as Trey had ever seen him. Marc Dupree had come a long way from the hardened man obsessed with making money, even at the expense of his own happiness.

The startling transformation gave Trey a glimmer of hope that he, too, could change in time.

“Take a look at my daughter, old friend.” The pride shining in Marc’s eyes was unmistakable.

Trey edged closer, but with each step, a strange feeling of loss and a sense of new beginnings wrestled against one
another inside him. With heavy steps, he maneuvered around the side of the bed.

Laney smiled up at him then, her eyes radiating peace and joy. Even in her exhaustion, she looked lovely. It was hard to reconcile this new vision with the desperate woman who had wanted his gun a few hours earlier.

Still grinning, she nudged her husband with her shoulder. “Let Trey hold her.”

Marc pulled his arm from behind his wife. Holding his child with both hands, he lifted her toward Trey. “You have to hold her like this.”

He demonstrated by cradling the baby in one arm and cupping a palm beneath the impossibly tiny head.

Hands trembling, Trey stepped back. “She’s too small. I’ll hurt her.”

Laney chuckled. “Any creature that can put me through that much torture is not as fragile as she looks.”

Reluctantly, he took the child, careful to support her head just as Marc had shown him. At the feel of the gentle weight in his arms, a tangle of emotions locked together in his throat, then sank to his gut and churned.

He’d spent the past four years focusing on death. Now, as he held this perfect little creature, he knew he stared into the beautiful face of life.

“She’s perfect,” he said, noting the mahogany hair, upturned nose and long lashes. “Looks just like her mother.”

He studied the infant further, taking in the stubborn tilt of the baby’s chin. “
And
her father.”

Marc peered over Trey’s shoulder, placed a hand on the tiny head. “We’re naming her Laurette.”

Unprepared for the declaration, a pall of bleak silence
trudged across Trey’s soul. He couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in his eyes, didn’t want to stop them.

Blurry-eyed, he looked down into Laney’s smiling face. “Are you sure?”

She nodded her head at him, answering tears falling quickly down her cheeks. “God has blessed us with this new life today, and because of His generosity, there’s no other name I would want for her.”

“Thank you,” Trey whispered.

Marc clutched his shoulder. “This is for all of us, my friend. It’s time we started looking ahead, instead of behind.”

Trey swallowed, unable to wrap his brain around the notion. But then blue, unfocused eyes blinked up at him, and the pain in his chest slowly subsided, as though the grip of grief that had clutched his heart for too many years was finally loosening. Just a little.

The baby gurgled at that moment. Inside that tiny sound, the past separated from the future, leaving only the joy of the moment.

Was it truly time to let go and look ahead?

Drawn by a force he didn’t quite understand, he turned and linked gazes with Katherine. She smiled at him, her beauty heightened by the tears and acceptance flickering in her eyes.

In that moment, Trey knew he had to try.