The Marshal Takes a Bride (18 page)

In that moment, with his eyes burning, Trey silently vowed to become the man he saw shining in Katherine’s gaze.

“Y
ou did good today, Mr. Trey.”

Trey smiled at the little girl sauntering toward him, the flowers in her hair bouncing with each step she took. Watching her approach, he felt his heart burst with the need to protect, to love. “Thank you, kitten. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

She looked over her shoulder, giggled. Trey sent his gaze in the same direction, caught sight of his wife in deep conversation with Laney. Emotion squeezed his chest. Would he ever tire of looking at Katherine? She was so beautiful, and not merely on the outside, where everyone could see. Sometimes it hurt, deep in his soul, to look at her.

She’d suffered so much torment in her young life. How he wanted to do right by her now, as he hadn’t been able to do for Laurette.

“I can’t believe you did it,” Molly said, still looking at her sister, obviously unaware of his turbulent thoughts. “You really married Katherine.”

“I did. She’s officially my wife now. And as far as I’m concerned, that makes you my daughter.”

Wife. Daughter.
It felt good to know they were both pledged to him forever now.

With a swish and fancy, little-girl swaying, Molly turned back around. A look of deep concentration marred her brow. “Did you know, Mr. Trey, Katherine hasn’t yelled at you all day? I think that’s the only time ever.”

He tried to keep his features blank, his mood as serious as the little girl’s. “I know.”

“That’s really good.”

Unable to hold back any longer, he let go of his grin and chuckled. How easy life was in the eyes of a five-year-old. For the rest of the day, he vowed to let Molly’s world prevail over his.

“Want to know a secret?” He leaned over, lowered his voice to a whisper. “Although it’s sometimes fun to fight with your sister, I really like it when she doesn’t yell at me.”

Molly gave him one solemn nod. “Me, too.”

Raising her arms to him, she waited. Understanding her silent command, he lifted her into his embrace, settled her on his hip, then offered his cheek. She planted a big, wet kiss on the same spot as always. “I love you, Mr. Trey.”

His response was immediate. “I love you, too, kitten.”

Suddenly shy, she cocked her head at him. “So do I get to call you daddy now?”

She might as well have gripped his heart and squeezed. “Absolutely.”

Flattening a palm against his cheek, she nodded again.
“Daddy.”

Trey’s heart stopped beating completely, then kicked wildly back to life. “Promise me something, Molly.”

“Sure, okay,” she said, her expression serious, her eyes never leaving his face. “Anything,
Daddy.
”

He was sure his heart was going to explode from the affection he felt for this child, his daughter. He had to blink to stop the burning in his eyes. “Be good tonight while your sister and I are at the hotel.”

She hitched her chin at him, mutiny blazing in her eyes. “I’m always good.”

He lowered her to the ground, dropped a kiss on her head. “Right. I forgot.”

Shaking her head at him, she planted her left fist on her hip and swung her bandaged hand back and forth. “Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.”

“I know. I forgot. How about you go run over there and tell your sister goodbye. We’re leaving soon.”

She angled her head, considered him for a moment. “Be nice to Katherine tonight.”

He hitched his chin at her in a similar show of stubbornness. “I’m always nice.”

Obviously unconvinced, she stared at him a while longer, then stamped her foot. “Promise,” she demanded.

He looked past Molly, fixed his gaze on his wife. As though hearing his silent appeal, Katherine looked up and molded her lips into a ready smile. “All right, kitten, I promise I’ll be nice to your sister tonight.”

That was one vow he knew he’d have no trouble keeping.

Katherine allowed Trey to lead her away from the church, the guests following them to the carriage hired to take them to the Palace Hotel. The plush interior of the coach was finer than any Katherine had known. Another
detail Marc had insisted he settle for them. She had no idea where he had found such an elaborate conveyance. But, as she slid across the seat and allowed the sheer luxury to wash over her, she decided not to ask questions.

Today was a day for joy.

She splayed her fingers along the red velvet cushions, which stood in stark relief against the dark mahogany of the inlaid ceiling. Sitting in so regal a carriage, Katherine felt like a queen—with a very attentive king by her side.

Trey’s gaze hadn’t left her face since she’d joined him at the altar, making her feel cherished, special. The ceremony had been short, lovely, sweeping her away into a world of hope and possibility. Not wanting her senses to return and ruin the moment, she shut her eyes and pressed her head against the plush cushions behind her.

Trey climbed inside, his weight slightly tilting the carriage toward him. He issued the order to the driver, then shut the door behind him.

As he settled in next to her, his voice drifted over her like a soft whisper. “Look at me.”

She opened her eyes, and her heart hammered against her ribs at what she saw in his gaze. Trey Scott had the look of love in his eyes.

As he leaned closer, his lips curved into a beautiful smile. “No regrets?” he asked, with something oddly hesitant in his manner.

“Not yet.” She’d thought to tease him, but her words came out stilted, earnest.

He sighed. “Not a very hopeful answer, but an honest one, I suppose.”

He stroked her cheek, her jaw, and a low rumble sounded in his chest. “I’ll be gentle with you tonight, my
love. We’ll go at your pace, and I’ll do only what you want me to do.”

Sudden fear clogged her throat. “What if…what if I can’t go through with it?”

“Then we spend the night talking. Get to know each other better.”

Her heart turned troubled, unsure. She knew enough about men from her mother’s business to know what he offered was unusual. Heroic, even. “That would be enough for you?”

Trey leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the nose. “I can be a very patient man, Mrs. Scott. Resourceful, too. Even if it takes a lifetime, I plan to give you every reason to trust me to take care of you in our marriage bed.”

“A lifetime?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then.” Her eyes glittered back at him, and his heart hitched in his chest. “Let’s hope it doesn’t take
that
long.”

Trey laughed, the sound chasing away the remaining tension between them. “Beautiful Katherine, I’ll do everything in my power to be a good husband to you.”

She covered his mouth with her fingers. “I know, Trey. I believe you.”

“Good.” He took her hand and pressed her palm against his heart.
“Good.”

He closed his eyes a moment and just breathed in her clean, fresh scent. His stomach felt a little funny all of a sudden, and then the sensation spread up to his chest. Once he could breathe again, he decided he liked the feeling.

Liked it very much.

T
he next morning Trey woke first. Settled comfortably in an overstuffed chair, he drank a second cup of coffee while his bride continued sleeping in the other room. At the sound of her soft, feminine snoring, a wave of contentment rippled through him.

He couldn’t help but think God had blessed him with this new marriage. And for the first time in four years, the thought of the Lord’s hand in any part of his life didn’t bring anger and bitterness.

Only awe. And a large dose of gratitude.

The evening had been filled with firsts for them both. And as their wedding night had progressed, Trey had been able to show Katherine just how patient he could be with her. Together, they’d overcome the obstacle of her fear of physical intimacy.

With a large dose of satisfaction, Trey kicked his feet onto the ottoman and wondered if they’d made a baby when they’d consummated their marriage.

But as soon as the thought came, painful memories of
what had happened to Laurette and their unborn child broke through his pleasure. Heart-pounding fear gripped him, nearly paralyzing his ability to breathe. He’d failed Laurette. Violence had won that round.

Could he keep his new family safe? Or would he fail them as well?

No, he would not. This time he would do what was necessary to protect what was his.

Until he found Ike, there were going to have to be rules, nonnegotiable rules. When he had to leave town, Katherine, Molly and any children that came along would stay with Marc and Laney at Charity House. Once the school year began, he’d appoint a deputy to watch the premises.

A muscle shifted in his jaw as gripping anxiety clogged his throat and stole his breath. The drive to finish the business of the past was suddenly obscene, like a sharp, fiery stake stabbing into his heart.

He heard Katherine stir. Shaking away his ugly thoughts, he set his cup on the table next to him and went to the doorway that led into the bedroom. Leaning against the jamb, he studied his wife as her eyes blinked slowly open.

With her gaze unfocused, sleepy, she looked youthful, beautiful. His momentary concern for the future faded, and Katherine Taylor Scott filled his world. “Good morning, Mrs. Scott.”

A smile played at the tips of her mouth. “Good morning, Mr. Scott.”

“Sleep well?”

She stretched, yawned. “Lovely.”

Trey’s heart dipped in his chest. “Hungry?”

“Ravenous.”

Laughing, he shoved away from the door. “Me, too.”

In the same moment he leaned down to kiss her lips, a pounding came at the door.

“Marshal, you in there?”

Logan.
For a lawman, the deputy had rotten timing.

Katherine blew her hair out of her face and sighed. “Looks like breakfast will have to wait.”

“If we don’t answer,” he whispered, “he’ll go away.”

Three more raps. “Marshal. It’s important.”

Katherine sat up, wrapped the covers around her and then slid him an annoyed look, as though she was as disappointed as he was by the interruption. Unfortunately, the underlying dread in her expression was impossible to miss.

They both knew Logan would interrupt them for only one reason.

“Answer the door,” she said at last.

He wished he knew what to say to alleviate her worry, but his mind wrestled with two thoughts—it was time to serve up justice, and it was too soon to leave his wife.

Logan’s plea turned urgent.
“Marshal.”

“I’m coming,” Trey shouted back. “Give me a moment.”

He waited until Katherine snuggled deeper under the covers before moving back into the sitting room. He gave her one last look over his shoulder, then padded barefoot through the room.

Yanking the door open, he growled at the other man. “This better be good.”

Logan tried to enter the room, but Trey barred entrance with his body. “Well?”

Shrugging, Logan stepped back. “A telegraph came in from the marshal in Nebraska territory. He caught Ike Hayes.”

He caught Ike Hayes.

The need for justice knotted in Trey’s gut, and all he could do was stare at Logan as the news slowly sank in.

This was it, then. After all these years of searching, retribution was within his grasp. Laurette would receive justice at last. She would not have died in vain.

“Marshal Roberts wants us to meet him in Cheyenne,” Logan continued, “so he can turn over the prisoner to you personally.”

“I’ll be ready to leave in an hour,” Trey said. “Meet me at the stables.”

Trey shut the door behind Logan’s nod of agreement. No time for thought. Only action. With deliberate movements, he gathered his belongings. Against his best efforts to remain calm, his head filled with memories, and his heart exploded with anger and frustration.

Ike Hayes had preyed on the innocent and killed for sport for too long. Trey would not miss this opportunity to bring the man who’d killed his wife to trial.

If for no other reason, he owed it to Laurette.

So consumed with ending the violence, he’d nearly forgotten about Katherine until his glance fell on the bed. She sat there, unmoving, her knees wrapped in the covers and pulled to her chest. She didn’t say anything, just quietly watched him.

Her eyes were big and round and worried, and in that moment, she looked only a few years older than Molly.

“I have to go,” he said.

She nodded, her eyes never leaving his face. He understood the fear settling over her. Just as he recognized the strength it took her to hold the emotion at bay.

“I have to do this,” he said, his tone more desperate than firm. “He’s the man who killed my wife.”

She jerked at his declaration, sighed and then dropped her gaze to her knees. “Of course.”

“Try to understand, Katherine. Justice must be served.”

He wanted to repeat the words over and over, until he made her accept how important this was to him. To them and their future together.

She lifted her gaze and simply stared at him. After a long, dead silence her eyes filled with a deep sadness, but she continued to hold his gaze, with an unwavering conviction that belied her emotions.

“You have to do what you think is best, Trey.”

“I
have
to finish this.” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded hesitant, uneasy. “Then I—
we
—can move on with our lives.”

She simply nodded. “Of course.”

Katherine’s patient acceptance shattered him. Where was the fight in her? The yelling? The accusations? A battle he could handle? This calm understanding—it nearly broke him.

“I—”

“No. Don’t say anything else.” She rushed to him, reached for his hand and clutched it to her heart. “God-speed, my love. May you have the peace of Christ and the conviction of the Holy Spirit in your heart as you go.”

He dropped his belongings and pulled her into his arms. “Once I…Once justice is finally served, we can start our new life together, Katherine. We’ll be free from the past. I promise.”

And as with every promise he’d made to her in the past, he would keep his word.

As weeks turned into months, and still no direct word from Trey, Katherine’s worry increased, putting her on edge.

Oh, Lord, please bring him safely home to me,
she prayed.
Let this capture of Ike Hayes be the end of Trey’s need for revenge. Give him the freedom only You can give
.

But no matter how hard she focused on her husband, Trey’s safety wasn’t Katherine’s only concern. A few weeks ago, her body had started changing, no longer feeling like her own. The morning the vomiting had begun, she’d realized she was carrying Trey’s child. One night together—their beautiful, all-too-short wedding night—had been enough to create a baby.

Out of her healing, and Trey’s gentleness, had come this new life. She couldn’t have asked for a richer blessing.

Unfortunately, the morning sickness had gotten worse these past two days, throbbing with the tenacity of sharp little rat’s teeth. She lay in her bed just as dawn broke, trying her best to control the spasms of pain gripping her stomach.

She prayed softly for strength.

Lifting her Bible off the nightstand, she flipped to the thirty-first chapter of Deuteronomy. “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified—”

Another spasm cut through her. Leaning over the chamber pot, she spilled the last of the contents of her stomach. She hadn’t been able to keep food down for two days now. She was so tired, uncharacteristically weak, and her stomach ached miserably. Even now, the energy to get out of bed eluded her.

Her throat clutched again. Unable to bear another bout of nausea, she willed the pain away and began reading
where she’d left off. “For the Lord your God goes with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you.”

In spite of the chill in the room, she started sweating. Her legs ached through to the bones, and her heart swelled with fear. Something was wrong. This pain couldn’t be normal.

But she’d wasted too much time in bed already. Attempting to lift her head, she collapsed back against the pillow, conquered by the rush of agony. The terror, both thick and huge, ripped a single moan from her lips.

Another spasm of pain clutched her stomach, and she dropped the Bible to the floor. Rolling herself into a ball, she prepared for the inevitable nausea, but instead another pain followed the first. The third one made her cry out.

She expelled three more shaky breaths, then managed to stand. A hot, sticky liquid slid along the inside of her legs. Looking to the floor, she saw the red stain on her nightgown, the blood creating a small puddle at her feet.

“Oh, Lord, no.
Please,
not this. Trey doesn’t even know he’s going to be a father.”

Just as she cried out for Laney, the room spun, and Katherine’s head filled with dizzying, life-altering fear.

“Trey,” she whispered just before her vision turned black.

Katherine opened her eyes to find Dr. Bartlett standing over her, a concerned expression on his face. The pounding in her head made her squint against the sharp light piercing the room.

She tried to lift her head off the pillow—someone had obviously moved her to the bed—but the effort wore her out. “What happened?”

The fast clicking of heels to wood accompanied Laney’s soft cry. “Praise God, you’re awake.”

Katherine opened her eyes just as her friend knelt beside the bed, placed her cool palm against her forehead.

“We’ve been so worried about you.” The terror was there in the other woman’s eyes, in her shaking fingers, her stilted voice.

Katherine tried to close her mind to what Laney’s fear meant and focus only on the words spoken. “We?”

“Me, Molly, Marc, the Charity House children.”

Giving up the fight, Katherine allowed her mind to concentrate on a memory, one that refused to let her go but wouldn’t fully materialize. Her head pounded out a series of sketchy details, then went blank. But then one painful, heart-wrenching image came into focus—the blood at her feet. “My baby?”

Tears filled Laney’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Katherine. You lost it.”

Why couldn’t she make her head understand what Laney was saying? Why did the terror embrace her heart?

Dr. Bartlett’s melodious, soothing voice drifted over her. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here soon enough.”

What sort of cruel twist was this? She and Trey had made a baby together, but it was dead. How would he accept this new loss? How would she?

Overwhelmed by too many fierce emotions, she simply stared at Laney and Dr. Bartlett.

Oh, Trey, why aren’t you home yet?

She needed his strength, his arms around her. She needed him to tell her it wasn’t true. But it was true; she saw it in the concerned eyes that watched her. Her baby was dead, and Trey hadn’t even known of its existence.

For weeks, she’d spent her days worrying about Trey,
about the harm that could come to him both physically and spiritually if he didn’t let go of his drive for vengeance.

It hadn’t occurred to her that she might be the one in danger. Had her ignorance killed her baby? Had she neglected some detail? Had she been so consumed with worry that she’d killed her child?

Laney sighed, the sound cutting through Katherine’s terrifying thoughts. “I’m so sorry.”

Although she heard the words, knew them to be true, Katherine couldn’t make her mind focus on the fact that she’d lost her child.

The doctor moved slowly into view. “We nearly lost you as well.”

Laney gripped her hand and squeezed. “You’ve been very ill, unconscious for four days now. We’ve all been praying for you.”

“Four days?” The headache gripping the inside of her brain twisted to her eyes. She reached up to rub her temple, shocked at the shake in her hands. “The last thing I remember is calling for you.”

“I found you in a heap on the floor. Marc carried you to the bed, then sent Johnny for the doctor.”

Making prayers out of her wordless sighs, Katherine tried to call up the details of the past few days. She got nothing. “I never woke?”

Dr. Bartlett shook his head.

Laney squeezed her hand again. “Katherine, I know you’re weak right now, but Molly has been…in a state.”

Molly.
Oh, her poor little sister must have been petrified. “Go get her, Laney.
Hurry.
”

Laney looked to the doctor.

Dr. Bartlett nodded. “Go ahead.”

Once she was alone with the doctor, Katherine’s fears twined inside her sorrow and guilt. “What did I do wrong?”

Shaking his head, he looked more tired than usual, as though he’d lost a lot of sleep. Over her? Had she truly been that ill? “This wasn’t your fault,” Dr. Bartlett said.

Words backed up in her throat. “Then why did my baby die?”

“Sometimes these things happen.” He brought a cup of water to her lips and lifted her head. As she drank, he continued. “I know that doesn’t bring much comfort to you, but there are mysteries of the human body we just don’t understand. As the Lord says, ‘My ways aren’t your ways.’ But Jesus will give you comfort if you turn to Him.”