Romancing the Bride

by Melissa Jagears

  What on earth had her so flustered? And why did it matter what people thought about her making oyster soup?

  “So what do you think?”

  Didn’t she just say she didn’t care about anyone’s opinion? “Uh, it’s the best oyster soup I’ve ever had.”

  Her face lit and she folded her hands against her chest. “Do you think so?”

  “Yes.” He’d eat oyster soup every day if he could put that look on her face more often.

  Nolan grabbed a biscuit and swiped the edges of his bowl with it. “I agree.”

  The man had finished already?

  Perhaps salt might help.

  Celia came in from the parlor, dressed in her Sunday finest, short hair slicked back, and sporting dark circles under her eyes. She’d been spending every night with Leah to help the doctor and his wife catch up on sleep considering they had several patients keeping them busy.

  Jacob pulled out the chair beside him, and she slunk over and dropped into the seat.

  “You’ll get through this,” he whispered with a hand to her shoulder, but she didn’t look up to see his smile.

  Nolan wiped his mouth and leaned back in his chair. “I suppose you’ll be headed straight to the courthouse here soon?”

  Annie stiffened as she ladled out soup for Celia.

  Nolan slid his empty bowl toward her for a second helping. “Bet you’re happy your late husband’s name has been cleared. It’s hard to grow up with a good-for-nothing daddy.” He crossed his arms over his chest and gave a sharp nod. “But then, my father didn’t turn out so bad for having one. Though you never can tell.”

  If he could’ve reached, Jacob would’ve kicked him under the table. He’d yet to tell Annie about what he’d learned this morning.

  Seemed he’d been wrong to have discussed the case with Nolan on the way over.

  Spencer walked in from the parlor straight toward Nolan. “Does what you just said mean my pa didn’t kill nobody?”

  “That’s right—”

  Jacob cleared his throat.

  Thankfully Nolan looked abashed and went back to shoveling in his soup.

  Spencer’s gaze fixed on their guest. “How’d you know that?”

  “Spencer, have a seat.”

  Jacob’s heart lightened when he obeyed.

  No matter what, this boy would grow up fine. But still, not all the details were fit to tell a seven-year-old. “This morning, one of the rustlers confessed that your pa caught them panning for gold in your river without permission. Seems they got into an argument and Passey shot him. They tried to cover up the crime by framing your father by murdering another man to make the story believable.”

  Spencer’s lower lip worked. “But why would they do that?”

  How could he explain such evil when he didn’t understand it himself? “Some people are bad deep inside, and without God’s direction in their lives, they can justify anything. But in truth, I don’t know.”

  All sounds of clattering silverware and movement in the kitchen had ceased.

  Annie was hunched over near the sink, clearly trying to hold back emotion.

  Celia had grown paler than milk, and Spencer’s unshed tears glistened on his lower lashes.

  Nolan stood abruptly. “I better go relieve Frank.”

  Spencer’s gaze followed the man until he disappeared out the door, and then he popped out of his chair and slammed into Jacob’s chest. The boy’s sunshine leaked out in an onslaught of tears.

  Annie walked over and hugged the boy’s head, and Jacob hooked an arm around her to bring her close.

  She slipped down onto her knees, letting him hold her as she dissolved into tears as well.

  His heart broke over their pain, yet still managed to overflow with joy that he could hold them and call them his own.

  Gregory’s tragedy had become his blessing.

  He wouldn’t ever take it for granted.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Annie pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her face to keep from wetting Jacob’s shirt any further.

  How embarrassing to have dissolved into tears with Mr. Key here. She sniffed and looked around to find that the man had disappeared. What must he think of her?

  Then again, she’d resolved not to care about others’ opinions any longer.

  Mother had said proper ladies died out West, and perhaps they did.

  Or perhaps they just became more real.

  Spencer was using Jacob’s shirt sleeve to dry his tears, so she handed him her spare handkerchief.

  Celia had somehow been pulled into Jacob’s embrace, and though stiff, she at least hadn’t pushed away.

  Jacob’s arm pulled Annie in tighter. How loath she was to move. She may have been crying for Gregory, but all of them together in Jacob’s embrace just felt right—like home.

  But Celia might not be here to love on tomorrow. Annie tightened her stomach to keep from launching into tears anew.

  God alone knew what would happen, and she’d have to trust Him to give both her and Celia the strength to endure.

  She reached across Spencer and clasped Celia’s hand. “You sure you don’t want to eat something before we leave? You’ll hold up better with food in your stomach.”

  “Why does it matter?”

  “Well, you might faint—”

  “I won’t faint.” Celia straightened, a flash of fight in her eyes.

  Good. She’d need some fire to get through today. She’d never seen Celia as placid and hopeless as she’d been since bringing Leah home.

  Annie retracted her hand and enfolded Spencer in her arms instead of the daughter she longed to embrace.

  The clock chimed one.

  Jacob’s compassionate eyes glued to Celia. “It’s time to go, darling.” His bass voice barely sounded above a whisper.

  Was there a man better than Jacob, who loved her willful, headstrong girl as if she were his own?

  Celia stood without a glance at either of them and preceded them through the door.

  “Do I have to go?” Spencer pulled away and looked at Jacob.

  “Joe’s ma said you can drop by any time you want.”

  “Can I go now?”

  “Give your ma a kiss first.”

  Spencer gave her a quick squeeze before shuffling outside.

  Jacob reached for Annie’s hand, but thankfully said nothing. She likely couldn’t talk if her life depended on it. He placed a kiss against her hairline and braced her about the shoulders as they walked out to follow Celia.

  Her daughter was already navigating the abnormally busy street as if none of the commotion affected her.

  Having never lived in town, Annie hadn’t experienced the hoopla of a court trial. Wyoming judges rarely sentenced anyone to hang, and only in cases of murder. But with the shepherd’s death, and now Gregory’s, to be accounted for, there’d probably be more county folk coming in for the sentencing who’d find the gruesome possibility a draw worthy of a holiday.

  Annie glued her gaze on the ground as they shuffled along the dusty road, relying on Jacob’s arm and her prayers to keep her upright. Her daughter wouldn’t hang, she was fairly certain of that, even if Leah died and the charges for her death were added to the long list the court was dealing with. But right now, she couldn’t look at the people who might have come to see her daughter die for sport.

  Inside City Hall, Daniel sat on a bench in the hallway next to his father, his hands stuffed into his pockets, and Timothy leaned against the wall beside him, head hung. Annie gripped Jacob’s arm, thankful he’d convinced the judge to hold a private trial and sentencing for the children before the men’s.

  Jacob ushered the families into an office where Judge Macrow sat behind a large desk, flipping through a book while smoking a pipe.

  The three young adults sat in the chairs directly across from him while their parents quietly amassed behind them.

  Timothy’s twin toddler brothers hid behind their mother’s skirts. Had
Annie known Mrs. O’Conner would bring her children, she’d have asked Joe’s parents to watch them along with Spencer, but Judge Macrow cleared his throat. Too late to suggest that now.

  “I’m assuming everyone who needs to be here is present?” Directing his question to Jacob, Judge Macrow set down his pipe.

  Annie forced herself to let go of Jacob’s arm. He wasn’t merely Celia’s stepfather, but also a lawman with duties. He couldn’t stay with her no matter how desperately she wanted to cling to him.

  “Yes, everyone is assembled.” Jacob helped her sit before moving to the front of the room. He’d be in charge of enforcing whatever sentence the judge assigned Celia and the boys. Hopefully her daughter wouldn’t hold that against him.

  Praying under her breath, Annie kept her focus on Celia, who sat as still as stone.

  “I’ll make this short. No need to keep anyone in agony longer than necessary.” The judge unfolded a paper and put on his spectacles. “Timothy O’Conner?”

  “Yes, sir.” The boy stared at his lap.

  “Since you and the other minors in this case were unaware that the river section you were panning was not on your employers’ land, I find no reason for you to be punished. As to you not telling anyone about the possibility of attempted rustling, I hear you have a prized horse you could auction to pay a fine. The county will accept the proceeds of your sale for restitution. From now on, I expect you to report any criminal activity you hear of as a responsible young adult should, even if doing so may cause friends to suffer the consequences of their actions.”

  Mrs. O’Conner sighed as if a thousand weights had lifted, and Timothy, though visibly distraught over the loss of his horse, slumped with relief.

  “With any luck, you’ve at least learned that keeping company with the wrong people can lead to your destruction.”

  Annie’s heart lightened. Perhaps Jacob’s prediction of a light sentence would come true despite her worst imaginings.

  “As for Daniel Crawford and Celia Gephart, you both willfully disobeyed your parents and the laws of this territory. As I can only assign sentences in light of the law, I’ve taken into account your naiveté, foolhardiness, and lack of premeditation, and have determined to simply make you pay back the county for the shenanigans, vandalism, and sorrow you’ve heaped upon its citizens. You’ll report to Marshal Hendrix, who has agreed to mete out your punishment, and work under his supervision until you’ve helped every citizen meet Armelle’s sidewalk code. If he finds you reluctant to attend to your employment, you will become a resident of the county jail until you have had a change of heart.” He leaned forward in his chair and looked between the two young folks in front of him. “Do you understand?”

  Daniel uttered, “Yes, sir,” and Celia mouthed the same.

  “Then so be it.” Judge Macrow stood and nodded to Jacob. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Annie closed her eyes.

  Thank you, Lord, for delivering my daughter from jail time.

  She made her way to Celia on shaky legs and hugged her. “This is good news.”

  “It won’t make up for what I’ve done.” Celia’s voice didn’t so much as fluctuate.

  “It won’t, of course, but all you can do is choose what you do next, and choose right.”

  Her shoulders scrunched up in a shrug. “Won’t change anything.” She tried to pull away. “I need to get back to Mrs. Whitsett.”

  The Crawfords filed out around them, but Annie kept a hold of her daughter until Celia finally stopped trying to follow them out the door. “You’re right; nothing that’s happened can be changed. Lately, I’ve let fretting over my past decisions steal my joy and rob me of making better choices moving forward. I don’t want you to do that too.”

  “It’s not as if you’ve killed anyone,” Celia muttered.

  She shook her daughter a little. “Neither have you. Even if Leah doesn’t survive, you tried your best to save her. What matters now, is what you choose to do in the next hour, what you choose to do tomorrow. If your past decisions didn’t get you where you wanted to be, figure out what decisions will. Beating yourself up over the past won’t change a thing.”

  Annie looked over Celia’s head to where Jacob was standing quietly by the judge’s vacated desk. “I wasted so much time dwelling on things I had no control over that I treated the piece of heaven God gave us as if he were of little consequence. I chose misery when I could’ve been comforted.”

  She let go of Celia’s hand and turned toward Jacob. “I chose to question your love, instead of simply loving you back. When I think of what I prayed for … Well, God gave me more than I ever asked for when He gave us you.”

  Jacob crossed over to her before the last words had even exited her mouth and wrapped his arms around them both. “And I’d given up on God ever gifting me a family, but I’m so glad He finally did.”

  He swallowed noisily near her ear, and she wriggled her arms around him to hold him back.

  His voice seemed to be having difficulty un-lodging itself from his throat. “I—I’m sorry for all the times I’ve been impatient. For if you loved Gregory half as much as I love you...”

  His voice did catch then, and he hugged her tighter.

  She likely had loved Gregory as much as Jacob thought she did. But she’d been wrong to think she couldn’t begin to love Jacob until her previous love had faded away.

  She pressed closer and let herself breathe him in.

  Thank you, God, for both the loves you gave me.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Jacob helped Nolan push through the crowd at the courthouse with McGill, Bryant, and rustlers in tow. He frowned at the baker sending his children around with platters of pastries, taking advantage of the circus-like atmosphere as they all awaited the outcome of the trial.

  A skirmish to his left sent his hand to his gun.

  “Get off me, you oaf!”

  “If your wide hide wasn’t blocking my view!”

  The area cattlemen, who’d never cottoned well to McGill’s successes, were not at all in a Christ-like mood this morning.

  Last night, he’d had to settle a drunken brawl over who McGill had undermined the most, and the losers had slept off their spirits in his one remaining jail cell.

  And with all the pickpockets taking advantage of the crowd, he’d had to appoint a few men to keep watch around the clock.

  He shook his head and squeezed Bryant’s shoulder as they made their way up the courthouse stairs for the second time today. Hopefully they’d be able to maintain order once the ruling was announced. If the more aggressive cattlemen didn’t agree with the judge, they might attempt to hang the prisoners themselves.

  Though most considered Leah’s injuries punishment enough for Bryant, Jacob tried not to hope too much for a light sentence. Though the judge had been quite fair with the children, his facial expression hadn’t softened while listening to the witnesses attesting to Bryant’s character during the trial.

  The courthouse buzzed with noise and swishing fans.

  People jostled Jacob’s prisoners, and he glared at each in warning—though they probably couldn’t help it since there was hardly room to stand. Jacob swiped at his damp hairline and tried not to be agitated by the amount of people pressing close.

  Ahead, McGill sneered at the crowd as he was forced through by Frank Dent. Some spectators shrank away, but a few who’d been repeatedly fined for insufficient upkeep of their sidewalks found it amusing to see the mayor cuffed.

  After leading his charges up front, Jacob took a wide-legged stance behind the defendants with Nolan and Frank flanking him, creating a barrier from the attendees.

  The standing-room-only crowd parted for the judge.

  Once the room quieted, Jacob found Annie’s concerned face in the crowd near the windows. He nodded at her, and she nodded back, her eyes ashine with ... what? Pride?

  Though catching the rustlers was more Gwen’s, Celia’s, and God’s doing, he couldn’t help but p
uff his chest a bit.

  A lazy half smile perked her lips, and her eyes ran down the length of him.

  He frowned and peeked down at his clothing to make sure everything was where it ought to be. When he glanced back, a flounce of blue feathers passed between him and his wife.

  The fluff in Gwen’s fancy hat flurried as she weaved her way toward her father.

  The animosity McGill maintained toward his daughter electrified the air around them, yet Gwen stopped to stand behind him.

  “Come to order, please.” The judge stood near the table at the front. The stirring of the crowd quieted, but the amount of shuffling that came with a room packed full of people made silence impossible.

  “Be seated.”

  Wood creaked up front where there were chairs, adding to the muted hubbub for an instant.

  Judge Macrow pulled a small stack of papers from his satchel, and the increase in murmuring while he did so made him scan the crowd with narrowed eyes. He closed his satchel and laid the papers to the side. “I’ll make this quick. I have to be on my way within the hour.”

  Bryant hung his head, and the desire to grip his friend’s shoulder made Jacob fidget, but he kept both hands behind his back.

  “Defendants, please rise.” Judge Macrow adjusted his spectacles. “Concerning Rufus Salazar and Guy Harding, guilty on all charges, sentenced to five years in the Wyoming Territorial Prison. Conrad McGill, guilty on all charges, thirty years in Wyoming Territorial Prison.”

  A sweeping of satisfied male grunts circled the room.

  A man near the front tipped his head back and sighed with happy exaggeration.

  Gwen’s feathers didn’t so much as bob.

  “Tom Passey, on account of all charges including two counts of murder—hanged at the neck until dead.”

  Jacob swallowed hard as the heightened buzz around the room pierced through his skull.

  “I’ll appeal.”

  “I expected so.” Judge Macrow looked out over the crowd. “He has the right to appeal. There will be no vigilante shenanigans to bring about his sentence before he can take advantage of all that the law allows. Not unless someone is eager to face me at trial next week.”