“There,” Walt said. He glanced down at Clint’s waist. “Why ain’t you wearing your gun?”
Clint straightened, half wondering the same thing himself. “Mattie doesn’t like it and I figured I could handle things without it. I’m not expecting any bank robbers tonight.”
“That’s when they show up—when you ain’t expecting them.”
“It’ll be all right for one night.”
Walt sighed in resignation. “I hope you’re right.” He eyed Clint. “You got your work cut out for you. Mattie’s not going to be easy to persuade.” Walt rolled his eyes. “Believe me, I know.”
Clint rested an arm on the fireplace mantel, trying to give the impression he was more relaxed than he felt. “Any suggestions?”
Walt snorted. “A lot, but none you’ll listen to.”
Clint tensed. “Try me.”
The older man leaned back on the couch, his good arm wrapped around the injured one. “Walk up to her, tell her you love her, ask her to marry you, then get it done before she can change her mind.”
Clint wished it was that easy. He wasn’t certain what her feelings were for him, and he wasn’t ready to spill his guts and be totally humiliated. Besides, he couldn’t marry Mattie until his unfinished business was completed.
He shook his head and pushed away from the fireplace. “It’s not that simple.”
Walt studied him with a perceptive gaze. “It’s as simple as you make it. Good luck, son.”
Clint sent him a nod and strode out of the house, closing the door behind him. The autumn air was cool but fresh, and it cleared his mind. As he walked toward the town hall, the lively strains of a fiddle became more distinct. Horses and buggies lined both sides of the street and he spotted Dr. Murphy’s wagon among them. That meant Mattie was already inside.
His step faltered as doubts plagued him. Why couldn’t he just accept Mattie’s decision to marry Kevin?
Because I love her.
By habit, he reached down to rest his fingers in his gunbelt and encountered only his trouser pockets. Maybe he should have worn the holster and gun—after all, he was the sheriff.
No, he needed all the help he could get persuading Mattie that it was a mistake to marry the doctor. If he showed up wearing his Colt, he’d lose the argument before he could even state his case.
He continued to the brightly lit building with resolute steps, nodding to the folks he met on the way in. Once inside, he drew off to the side to get his bearings. A fiddle, banjo, and mouth organ played a lively tune with more enthusiasm than skill, but none of the whirling dancers seemed to mind. The air was permeated with the scents of hair pomade, bay rum, and ladies’ toilet water. He sneezed.
“Bless you, Sheriff,” Amelia said as she, on the arm of her husband, joined him. “You look quite handsome tonight.”
“And you look lovely, Mrs. Johnson,” Clint said formally.
“Glad to see you could make it, Beaudry,” Orville said, shaking Clint’s hand. “How’s Walt doing?”
Clint had to strain to hear him above the voices and music. “His arm is healing slowly, but Dr. Murphy said he should be able to start using it in another week or two.”
Orville’s head bobbed up and down. “That’s good news, Beaudry.”
Clint nodded, but he was already searching the crowd for Mattie. Children dashed in and out of the twirling men and women, creating controlled chaos. There were nearly a hundred people crammed into the town hall, but nobody seemed to care. He spotted Ellen from the bakery, Norbert the bank teller, Luther, and many others he recognized but whose names he couldn’t remember.
“Well, look over there,” Amelia said, pointing to the opposite corner of the room. “Isn’t that Dr. Murphy and Mattie?”
Clint’s heart leapt into his throat. Mattie, dressed in a deep violet gown and with her long hair flowing down her back, was easily the most beautiful woman in the room. Her arm was held possessively in Murphy’s crooked elbow.
Startled to find he’d stopped breathing for a moment, Clint sucked in a deep breath. Why the hell had he ridden away from her?
“It’s about time Kevin found himself a wife,” Orville commented.
“You wouldn’t mind if I danced with Dr. Murphy later, would you, Orville?” Amelia asked her husband. “I’d like to congratulate him on his engagement.”
Orville patted Amelia’s hand. “You go right ahead, my dear. He is, after all, one of Green Valley’s finest citizens.”
Clint bit back a caustic remark. Murphy was a good doctor and probably a decent man, but the jealousy that ate at Clint tainted his feelings for him.
“We should go over and greet them, Amelia. Beaudry, care to accompany us?” Orville asked.
Clint nodded, unable to trust his voice.
He followed Orville and Amelia through the kaleidoscope of color and motion of the dancers and uncurbed children. People greeted him and he responded, but he had no idea what he said. His attention was focused on the woman he’d come to claim.
Finally, they made it across the room and Clint found himself face-to-face with Mattie. Her wide violet eyes matched her dress, which hugged her curves like a snug glove.
“Good evening, Orville, Amelia,” Murphy said, then added with less enthusiasm, “Sheriff.”
Orville gripped Kevin’s hand. “I haven’t congratulated you on your fine fortune in marrying one of Green Valley’s own.” The banker gave Mattie a fond smile.
Mattie’s own smile was tremulous at best. Clint had heard how the fine citizens had forced Mattie to marry Jason St. Clair, and he wondered if she was thinking the same thing. Clint had no doubt Orville Johnson had been one of those who had done what they thought best for Mattie.
“Thank you, Orville,” Murphy said. “From both of us.”
Clint managed a civil nod. “I’ve already congratulated”—he glanced at Mattie deliberately—“both of you.”
Clint was barely aware of the idle conversation between the doctor and the banker. His attention was stolen by Mattie, who kept her gaze divided between Murphy and the floor. Clint stared at her, willing her to look at him. He caught a whiff of her rose scent, and it teased him with memories of her moon-bathed skin above him….
“Isn’t that right, Sheriff?” Orville asked.
Startled, Clint dragged his gaze away from Mattie. Damn, he was acting like a horny kid. Again. He focused on the banker. “I’m sorry. What was that?”
“I was just saying to Dr. Murphy how we might be able to convince you to stay if Walt decides it’s time to retire.”
Clint forced a smile. “That’ll depend on a few things.” He purposely looked at Mattie, whose cheeks reddened.
Murphy’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sure Mr. Beaudry is already getting restless. From what I understand, he rarely stays in one place for any length of time. That’s the way it is with men who live by the gun.”
Mattie flinched and Clint’s muscles tensed. He took a step toward the doctor as he smiled coolly. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not wearing my gunbelt this evening.”
Out of the corner of his sight, he saw Mattie’s gaze flick to his hips, then back up to settle on his face. She appeared puzzled.
Murphy pressed his glasses up on his nose, a gesture Clint recognized as nervousness. “I’m surprised.”
Amelia whispered something in Orville’s ear, and he looked toward a group of men standing in the corner and nodded to Amelia. “I’ll be back in a moment.” The banker looked at Murphy and Clint. “Excuse me.”
As Orville wended his way through the crowd, the band began to play a waltz.
“Would you like to dance, Mattie?” Murphy asked.
Her face paled and she shook her head. “No, thank you.”
“Well, I would like to,” Amelia spoke up, batting her eyes at the doctor.
Murphy blinked in consternation and looked at Mattie. “Do you mind?”
For a moment, Clint thought she would, then she shook her head. She manage
d a thin smile. “No, of course not. Go ahead.”
As Amelia dragged Murphy out among the other dancers, Clint shifted to stand beside Mattie. He listened to the waltz, recognizing it as the same tune that Mattie’s music box played. He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “They’re playing our song.”
Mattie tried to edge away from him, but a wall blocked her escape.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, anger sparking her eyes.
Clint grinned. This was the Mattie he remembered. “I wanted to see you.”
She licked her lips and he couldn’t help but follow the trail of her pink tongue with a hungry gaze.
Mattie glared at him. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?” he asked innocently.
She narrowed her eyes and her nostrils flared. “You know darn good and well what I’m talking about.” She paused. “You weren’t supposed to come back.”
“It’s a free country. I can go wherever I please.” He touched the sleeve of her dress. “At least you listened to one thing I said. It matches your eyes perfectly, especially when you’re spitting mad. Like now.”
“I. Am. Not. Mad,” Mattie stated through clenched teeth. “You need to leave.”
“Not until you dance with me.”
“No.”
He shrugged. “Then I stay.”
Clint could feel her exasperation, but beneath it was the hum of awareness that flowed through his own veins. Mattie was definitely not going to marry Dr. Murphy, even if he had to kidnap her from the church.
“Want to dance?” he asked again. He winked. “At least we’re dressed right for it this time.”
Mattie’s face turned as red as a ripe apple, but her chin lifted stubbornly. “If that’s the only way I can get you to leave, all right. We’ll dance.” She glared at him. “But I’m not going to enjoy it.”
He grinned. “Wanna bet?”
Before she could offer a retort, Clint swept her out onto the dance floor. She seemed to float, feeling as natural within his arms as she had that night they’d waltzed in her home.
“Do you feel this way when you dance with the doc?” Clint asked. He was so close to her that her breath warmed his neck.
“I’ve never waltzed with him,” she admitted in a voice so low Clint almost missed it.
“Why?”
She remained silent, her feet gliding with his in light easy steps and her head bowed. Clint leaned forward, intending to press his lips to her bare neck, but caught himself at the last moment. This wasn’t Mattie’s parlor.
“Why haven’t you waltzed with him?” Clint pressed.
She took a deep shuddering breath and Clint instinctively tightened his hold on her.
“I swore I’d never waltz with a man again after my husband was killed.” She finally lifted her head to meet his gaze. “He promised he’d waltz with me until we were old and gray.” Her eyes glistened. “He lied.”
Clint’s mind struggled to put sense to her words. “But you asked me to waltz that night.”
“It was for just one night and I knew that.” She paused, then added quietly, “At least that’s what I believed.”
“No promises,” he whispered, his heart thundering in his chest.
She nodded, her dark hair tickling his nose. “If a promise isn’t made, it can’t be broken.”
That’s why she understood his promise to his late wife so well, and that’s why she hadn’t asked him to stay with her. It wasn’t because she didn’t love him—of that he was certain.
His breath faltered and his heart threatened to leap from his chest. He suddenly knew what he had to do.
He tightened his arms around her. “I love you, Mattie St. Clair.”
Chapter 21
Mattie stumbled and Clint’s strong arms caught her, pulling her flush against his body. She could feel his arousal pressing into her belly, just as she had that night…. Her throat tightened and she searched for the courage to look into his face.
Her gaze latched on to his string tie and she valiantly moved her scrutiny upward, to his firm chin and angular jaw, his sensuous lips, his straight aquiline nose, and finally his startling green eyes.
The truth blazed from the depths of his soul—she could read it in those eyes that had captured her from the moment she’d met him. Clint Beaudry loved her.
The air was suddenly too hot, too heavy. “Outside,” she gasped.
His expression concerned, Clint took her arm and guided her through the crowd to a side door. The cool, fresh air stung her face and chased away the swirling nausea. She leaned against the building, tilting her head back to drink in deep draughts of the night air. Her dizziness receded, but she remained staring upward at the stars.
Now what? Clint loved her and she believed him. So why did her own declaration stick in her throat?
“Mattie,” Clint said quietly. “Are you all right?”
His warm breath fanned across her cooling cheek, but it was the concern in his voice that sent a shiver of desire through her. “I’m fine,” she replied. She finally lowered her gaze to meet his anxious features. “The air just got a little close in there.”
His creased brow smoothed and he smiled boyishly. “That probably wasn’t the best place to tell you, but I knew I wouldn’t get another chance.” He grew somber once more. “Do you love him, Mattie?”
His steady gaze unsettled her. If she told him the truth, she’d be breaking her word to Kevin. Startled, she realized that although Clint had said he loved her, he hadn’t mentioned the vow that had taken him away from her.
“What about your wife’s murderer?” she asked, keeping her voice steady as her insides trembled.
The flash of guilt across his face betrayed him. He had no intention of abandoning his quest. Tears burned, but she held them back. Though they loved one another, they couldn’t be together until Clint had erased his debt.
Nothing had changed.
“I’m marrying him,” Mattie said. “I gave him my word.”
Clint clasped her upper arms as desperation clouded his eyes. “You don’t love him. You love me.”
She wished she could lie and deny his words, but it didn’t matter. He knew. “Love isn’t enough this time.”
“The hell it isn’t,” Clint said through thinned lips. “Marry me, Mattie.”
“When?”
“As soon as I track down Emily’s killer, I’ll come back and we’ll have the biggest wedding Green Valley ever saw,” Clint said.
She wanted nothing more than to say yes, but there were too many obligations and uncertainties. Mainly the possibility of his death.
Mattie shook her head, misery clutching her heart with sharp talons. “I won’t wait for a man who may never return, always wondering if you were dead or alive. I can’t do that. Kevin is safe, dependable.”
“You sound like you’re buying a damned horse,” Clint said disgustedly. He released her and held out his hands. “I’d be a good father to Andy, and a damned good husband to you. I promise I’ll come back to you.”
“No,” she shouted, panic clawing up her throat. “Don’t you dare make a promise you can’t keep.”
He drew back, startled by her outburst. “What if I do everything in my power to stay alive and come back?”
Mattie shook her head, which had begun to pound. “Don’t, Clint. It doesn’t change anything.”
He studied her a long moment and Mattie wondered if he could see the wild flutter of her heart. “You promised Kevin you’d marry him,” he said softly. “And Mattie St. Clair would rather die than break a promise.”
That was only part of it, but Clint couldn’t know the rest—the most important part. She’d given her word so her child could have a father and a name. “That’s right.”
He shrugged tiredly, as if exhaustion abruptly took hold of him. Mattie had never seen him look so … so helpless, and she lifted a trembling hand to rest on his sleeve. Her body hummed with awareness. No man had ever made her feel so
alive.
“I’m sorry, Clint. It’s just that…” How did she explain something that had been with her since she’d been Andy’s age? The fear and the betrayal…. “My parents promised they’d never leave me, then they died when I was eight years old and I was placed in the children’s home. When I was sixteen, Jason St. Clair promised he’d waltz with me until we were old and gray, then he got himself killed.” Tears burned her eyes as unexpected rage surged through her veins and her hands fisted at her sides. “I am sick to death of people I love breaking their word. I won’t make the same mistake with you.”
His eyes widened at the same moment she realized she’d inadvertently told him she loved him. She pushed away from the wall to dash back into the hall, but Clint caught her shoulders. Realizing it was fruitless to try to escape, she stood motionless, staring down at his boots.
“Dammit, Mattie, you can’t marry him if you love me,” he said.
His voice trembled and Mattie could feel the waves of frustration rolling off his powerful body. His fingers clutched her arms, holding her so close that the tips of her breasts brushed his shirt, a reminder of something else—something infinitely bittersweet.
She hated this inability to curb her body’s reaction to him, the subtle shift of the air between them to something alive and vibrant. She would always have a part of him in the child she carried, but that, too, would be a poignant reminder of the gunslinger who had given her a taste of love—the true love her parents had shared.
Guilt preyed upon her conscience—and soul—as she desperately wished she could tell him of his child. But she had her own promise to keep, even it meant losing the only man she’d ever truly loved.
Raising her head, she met Clint’s despairing eyes. Her resolve wavered, then steadied. “Kevin will be a good husband and I’ll be able to work at his side, helping him with his practice. You have your own life.” She smiled, her lips quivering. “I’m only glad we had what time we did together. Remember”—she paused, her vision blurring—“no regrets.”
For a moment, Mattie thought he’d continue the fight, but then his eyes shuttered and he nodded in resignation. Releasing her, he took a step back.
Outlaw's Bride Page 25
