by Lilly Inman
Chapter Twenty-Seven
His eyes blinked open groggily. Four worried faces came into focus, leaning over him. Matthew, Maureen, The Old Man. Isabelle. A great tear rolled down her cheek as she saw him waking and he grinned at her.
“What, is it that bad?” he asked, rubbing his stubble. They all smiled.
They had taken him home and laid him down on the sofa in the sitting room. The fire was lit and blankets covered him. He tried to sit up and winced. Isabelle’s hands hovered over him, wanting to make him comfortable but too scared to touch him.
Joe licked his lips. His mouth was dry.
“Water,” he croaked. Everyone jumped up to help but the Isabelle was the fastest. She brought a cup from the kitchen and pressed it to his lips gently, cradling his head. “That’s better,” he gasped.
“How do you feel?” Isabelle’s voice was quiet. She wrung her hands in concern.
“Like I’ve been shot,” Joe replied. He winked at her and his hand went to check his left shoulder. “How’s the wound?” he groaned.
“Doctor says you’ll heal, but you need to rest. No more running around after bad guys. Not for a while, at least.”
Joe tutted at himself. “Can’t work.”
“Nope.” Isabelle’s eyes danced.
“Well, I guess now is as good a time as any to promote Matthew to Deputy,” said Joe. He propped himself up on his good elbow and smirked at his cousin.
“Oh, very funny,” he brushed it off. “You’ll never make me a deputy.”
“Sure I will. Already made an appointment with the Marshall; should be coming to the office this week. He’ll swear you in. How does tomorrow sound?”
Shock washed over Matthew’s face.
Maureen clasped her hands in delight. “Oh, Matthew!”
“Matt, I’ve got to say thank you. For everything. You’ve been by my side for so long, but I was blind. I couldn’t see it.” Joe cleared his throat. “Thank you for all that you’ve done for me. For our community.”
Joe paused and his expression grew serious.
“And I owe you an apology. All of you.” He looked in turn at each person’s face. “I was so wrapped up in proving to myself that I could do this alone. But I can’t. No man is an island. I needed your help—I should’ve asked for it in the beginning.”
Matthew shuffled his legs around and tried to brush off Joe’s apology but he interrupted him.
“I should’ve asked for help but I didn’t. Now look where it’s got me.” He looked down at his shoulder and sighed.
The Old Man stepped forward. “It takes a strong man to accept defeat and give up… but it takes a stronger man to ask for help and to carry on fighting. We’re here with you, Joseph. Count on us.” He smiled proudly at his step-son.
Joe took a deep breath, relieved. “So, what now?”
“Well, we won’t be seeing those criminals for a while. They’re being well looked after by the guards at Wilson County Jail.”
Joe nodded, satisfied.
“Doctor says you’re going to have to get assistance for a lot of basic tasks while your arm’s still strapped up,” said Matthew. “Cutting food, getting dressed…” he glanced teasingly at Isabelle, who flushed red in embarrassment. “That’ll let you practise telling us you need us in the future, right?” Matthew laughed and Joe rolled his eyes.
“This going to take long to heal?” Joe asked, nodding to his wounded shoulder.
“Couple months, at least.”
Joe nodded thoughtfully and then smiled to himself.
“Well… at least it’ll free up some time for me to look after my little wife.”
*
Isabelle’s heart fluttered in her chest. “Your…wife?”
Joseph looked at her and grinned. “I’m going to need a little help, here. Would you mind checking my right pocket?”
Her hand trembled as she reached inside his jacket. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling as she pulled out a small box.
“Go ahead, open it,” he urged her.
Isabelle slid the lid off the box and drew in her breath. The room was silent.
A ring.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“Like you are, Belle.” Joe stretched his hand out and caressed her cheek.
Isabelle stared at the ring in her hand.
“Well, will you?” Joe asked.
Isabelle narrowed her eyes and challenged him with a smile. “Will I what?”
He grinned. “Be my wife.”
She collapsed into him with a happy sigh. “Yes, Joe. I will.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Mrs. Cartwright, please follow me to the Sheriff’s office.”
Isabelle grinned, her cheeks flushed with pleasure. She wasn’t quite used to hearing her new name just yet, but it sounded lovely.
“Just a minute,” she mumbled, gazing longingly at the dresses on display in the shop window. “And I’m not Mrs Cartwright yet, you know. Not for another week.”
“Mrs. Cartwright…” the man’s voice became impatient.
Isabelle’s eyes refocussed on the figure reflected in the window of the dressmaker’s shop and were met with Joseph’s handsome smile. She spun around to face him, his hand outstretched.
“Are you ready?” he grinned, excited about something.
“What’s all the fuss about? You know I prefer working with you in the study at home.”
“I know, but there’s something you need to see down at the office. Matthew’s waiting.”
Isabelle ruffled her skirt and agreed with a sigh. She threw one last glance back towards the dresses in the window and took Joseph’s hand grudgingly. Her engagement ring glinted in the sunlight.
“Don’t worry, we’ll come back for one later,” Joe laughed.
They strolled down the street, Isabelle hanging onto his arm proudly. Passers-by asked about law-and-order business and congratulated them on their wedding announcement and they beamed, happy. Isabelle hadn’t imagined she could feel this good.
She looked up at Joe as they walked. “So, what’s this ever-so-important thing you need me to check down at the office anyway?”
“You’ll see.” A twinkle lit up Joe’s eyes as he smirked, staring straight ahead.
Isabelle rolled her eyes. “You’re terrible, Mr. Cartwright, do you know that?”
Joe’s laugh rung out, making Isabelle’s heart flutter.
*
Joe led Isabelle slowly up the steps to the Sheriff’s office, the secret dancing in his chest. He glanced at Isabelle behind him.
She smiled, puzzled. “Well?”
He pulled open the door and stepped aside to let her see.
There was a middle-aged man and two youngsters seated at Joe’s desk. The man turned around in his chair as he heard the door opening. “Belle!” he called out.
Isabelle’s face burst open with joy and she rushed forward. Excited squeals and laughter filled the room.
Joe’s heart throbbed as he watched his wife collapse into her father’s arms. Her little sister and brother crowded round them too and she squeezed them all into a tight embrace.
“Did we miss the wedding?” he laughed.
Joseph caught Isabelle’s eye over her father’s shoulder. Her face was streaked with tears but she was grinning.
Thank you, Joe, she mouthed. Thank you.
The End
Dear Reader
You’ve reached the end of the book – I hope you enjoyed this tale as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Thank you, as ever, for reading. I’d love to know what you thought – you can leave a review on Amazon, if you have time. I’d really appreciate it.
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Until next time…
Acknowledgements
This story would not be
in your hands today if it weren’t for the indefatigable patience of Carol McKay, who provided endless guidance and support during my writing and editing process. Thanks, Mum – hope you’re ready for the next one!
About the Author
I write from the south-east of France, but I grew up in small town in Scotland. Not quite the open plains of South Dakota, right? No, but I’ve always been fascinated by the lives of the courageous women who lived through this time period. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to be one of them!
When I’m not writing I’m probably reading, learning folk songs on the ukulele (still can’t sing and strum at the same time), testing old recipes, or walking outside in nature.
