Finally a Bride

by McDonough, Vickie;

  “Yes, well …” The mayor glanced past him, then waved his corn again and strode off. “Perkins, hold up there.”

  Lord, save that man’s soul. Noah couldn’t help smiling at how Mr. Perkins side-stepped the mayor and hustled back to the food tables that lined the edge of the church’s back lot.

  Noah wandered through the crowd, mingling with the townsfolk, getting to know people he’d only met before, but his gaze kept drifting down Apple Street, where he’d last seen Jackie walking away from the crowd. She’d looked so pretty in her light green dress, which swayed like a bell when she walked.

  “Parson Jeffers.”

  Noah turned back, and Dan Howard strode toward him, his sleeping baby balanced in one of the liveryman’s big arms. Noah had remembered the livery owner was one of Luke’s friends, and his wife was one of the women who’d originally come to town to marry the marshal.

  “Mighty good message today, Parson.”

  Dan was the only man in town Noah could look eye-to-eye with, and he had a pretty wife and a whole passel of children. Noah hoped one day God would bless him as He had Dan. “How’s my horse doin’?”

  “Good! My boy spoils him with a carrot every now and then.”

  “I’m glad. I need to ride him more.”

  A young boy about Alan’s size limped toward them and halted beside Dan. “Pa, Ma says to come ‘cause it’s time for d’sert.”

  “I’m coming.” He ruffled the boy’s brown hair, then glanced back at Noah. “This here’s a good town, Parson. Don’t let Mayor Burke put a burr under your saddle. You’re doin’ just fine. You’ll hav’ta come to supper one night soon.”

  “I’d like that—and I appreciate the advice.” Noah nodded, and Dan returned to his family.

  Soon he’d perform the marriage ceremony of Rand Kessler and Mrs. Morgan—his first wedding. His stomach swirled at the thought, but not enough to make him set aside the plate of delicious food. He spooned in a bit of mashed turnips, almost yellow from the butter that had been added. He never would have thought that he would preside over his first funeral and wedding, one day apart.

  Leaning against the side of the church, he finished his food as he watched friends and families joining together on old quilts to eat and converse. The sun shone bright overhead in a clear sky, but not so much to make the day too hot to enjoy. Children raced around the outskirts of the crowd, chasing one another, laughing, and having fun. A boy held up a garden snake, and Abby Davis let out a shrill scream that turned heads. Noah chuckled. He’d rarely felt so at home in a town.

  A peace and contentment he’d never encountered, other than when he first gave his heart to God, wafted through him. An acceptance that filled a hollow place deep within. He wanted to stay in Lookout. To live here. To marry Jackie.

  But he needed to tell folks the truth about his past before he could realize that dream.

  He just needed a little more time.

  Jack hurried down the street after passing a fussy Andrew back to her ma. She hadn’t wanted to go in Mrs. Linus’s house so soon after seeing Bertha Boyd’s dead body, so she checked on her ma from the front porch and passed her brother through the doorway. Jack had covered a lot of stories for the paper, but rarely did they ever include a dead person. Mrs. Linus must be brave to stay in the house after all that had happened.

  Jack’s stomach growled, and she picked up her steps. She could see the townsfolk gathered in the lot next to the church and sure hoped there’d be some food left. If she’d been smart, she’d have asked someone to save her a plate.

  She couldn’t quit thinking about Noah’s message. Having always been independent and resourceful, she had a tendency to act without thinking. As a child, thanks to her willful streak, she’d done pretty much what she wanted. No wonder her mother had been so frustrated with her back then. Under Luke’s guidance, she learned to find joy in pleasing her mother, but she still fought stubbornness and the desire to do things on impulse.

  She believed in God, but she hadn’t prayed about her future, other than a few frantic pleas for help or guidance on occasion, like when Andrew almost died. She hadn’t sought God first in her daily life, but Noah had helped her see the need to change that.

  How could she make such an important decision like going to Dallas or staying here to see how things worked out with Noah without God’s guidance?

  A man suddenly jogged out from between two houses. Yanked from her musings, Jack jumped. A nut brown hat was pulled down low, blocking his face, and he strode purposely toward her. The only times she’d ever been truly frightened had been in her own home when her other pa was alive and when her ma had been kidnapped by an outlaw, but with all the robberies and now a murder, her nerves had a hair trigger. Jack glanced around for a rock or stick for defense, but then she recognized the man’s walk—Billy.

  Horse feathers.

  She didn’t want to argue with him again about getting married. That would never happen. She moved away from him, hurrying her steps, but he broke into a run, then skidded to a halt, blocking her way. Jack sighed, her doubts rising about there being any food left except for Margie Mann’s baked beets, which everyone but newcomers knew not to touch. Since she couldn’t get away from Billy, she might as well be cordial. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you all week.”

  He pushed his hat up his forehead and grinned. “Did you miss me?”

  Well, she’d walked right into that quagmire. “I just noticed you weren’t around. Why weren’t you helping your ma in the store so she could get ready for her wedding?” Jack crossed her arms and tapped her toe. Her cordialness hadn’t lasted long, but she had little patience with Billy, especially when he was standing between her and her dinner.

  A frown replaced his smile. “I don’t wanna be a storekeeper. It’s boring.”

  “What do you want to do? If you don’t run the store, how will you make a living?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and lifted his chin. “I’ve got ways. And I got me a place to stay. I ain’t goin’ to that ranch.”

  Jack’s stomach complained about its empty state. She stepped sideways, but Billy matched her efforts. “I want to eat, Billy, before the food’s gone and the wedding starts.”

  “Come with me first. I got something to show you.”

  Jack flung out her arms, wishing he’d leave her alone. “There isn’t time. I had to take Andrew back to Ma, and now I want to eat.”

  “Who’s Andrew?”

  Jack stared at him. “He’s my new baby brother, remember?”

  He shrugged, as if it were of no importance. She scowled and noticed his clothes. His tan shirt was wrinkled and stained, and his pants and boots dusty. “Is that what you’re wearing to the wedding?”

  He glanced down and swiped his hand across his thigh. “Ain’t goin’.”

  “Billy! That’s just plain mean. Your ma will be so hurt.”

  His steely blue eyes flashed. “She should have thought of that before she agreed to marry that man.”

  “What’s wrong with him? He’s got a nice ranch, and from what I hear, a big house. He can provide for your ma. She won’t have to work so hard—and besides, they’re happy together. I don’t understand you and Tessa.”

  He yanked his hands out of his pockets and shoved them on his hips. “Tessa wants to live in town, not all alone on that ranch—even if she’s taken a likin’ to one of the cowboys out there. And I don’t want that man bossing me around. I ain’t a kid no more.”

  Jack pinched her lips together. She didn’t know what to say to him. She just wanted to eat. “I’m leaving now. All the food’s probably gone already.” She picked up her skirts and dashed to the left. When he slid in that direction, she darted back to the right—and almost made it.

  He grabbed hold of her arm, jerking her to a halt. “I’ve got us a place, Jack. I want you to come see it.”

  She almost groaned out loud. “I can’t. I need to help Papa watch the young’uns, and I—want—t
o—eat.” She emphasized each of the last four words. As she pulled away from him, her hands came down hard on her waist, and she felt something stiff in her pocket. “Oh, yeah.” She pulled out the bracelet Billy had given her and held it out to him. “Here. I can’t keep this.”

  He stared down at the shiny silver bangle reflecting in the sunlight. “I don’t want that back. I bought it for you.”

  “It’s not proper for me to take presents from you. We aren’t courting.”

  Billy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re gonna marry me, even if I have to force you.”

  Of all the nerve! She jerked her arm, but he wouldn’t let go. She’d never been truly afraid of him before, but today, something menacing darkened his blue eyes. Still, she wouldn’t be forced to do anything, especially marry him, not when she was within shouting distance of most of the town. She fluffed up her bravado. “No, I’m not. And don’t forget my papa is the marshal. He won’t take kindly to your threatening me.”

  He glared back. Then his gaze darted past her. His brows lifted, and he let go and smiled, albeit without his normal charm. “We shall see,” he said through clenched teeth.

  She needed to tell Luke about Billy’s odd behavior, but she kept forgetting. Issuing threats about forcing her to marry was carrying things way too far. Stepping out of his reach, she peered over her shoulder to see what had distracted Billy. A man rode down the street, watching them. The relief she felt at the stranger’s arrival made her knees weak. A beam of sunlight reflected off the star on his vest. A Texas Ranger.

  “I gotta go, but this ain’t over.” Billy swung around and hurried back between the houses.

  The ranger stopped his horse beside her and touched the end of his hat in greeting. He glanced in the direction Billy had fled; then his kind gray eyes looked her over. She couldn’t see his upper lip because of his large mustache. “You all right, ma’am?”

  She nodded and put the bracelet back in her pocket. She couldn’t help wondering how forceful Billy might have gotten.

  “I’m looking for Marshal Davis. Could you direct me to him?”

  Jack smiled. “I sure can. He’s my stepfather.”

  The ranger dismounted. “Martin Carlisle, ma’am. Me and Luke were friends in the army.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ranger Carlisle.” She waved toward the end of the street. “I reckon you can hear all the noise. We’re having a church social and then a wedding.”

  He fell in step beside her, leading his gray horse. Sweat ringed his old brown hat, and his clothes didn’t look a whole lot better than Billy’s. “Maybe I can get me a bite to eat at this social.”

  “I sure hope so. I was just on my way back there and was thinking the same thing.”

  “It’s none of my business, ma’am, but don’t let that man get rough with you.”

  Jack nodded. Billy’s harsh grasp on her arm had hurt and reminded her of the times her first pa would sometimes grab hold of her if she didn’t obey fast enough. When he was in a fair mood, he never paid her any attention, nor did he ever hug her or bring her a present when he’d been away. He had promised he would, and she always hoped he might, but he never did. Not once. He was a liar—a mean man who hurt women and children. She had a feeling whoever married Billy might suffer the same pain she had as a child.

  The ranger walked beside her, leading his horse, his gaze focused on the crowd as they drew near. She glanced at the gun in his holster. Maybe she needed to start carrying a weapon—a derringer—because she’d never let another man treat her like her father had.

  Noah stood on the outskirts of the crowd, holding an empty plate and talking to Mr. Mann. At least she didn’t have to doubt Noah. She had at first when he wouldn’t talk about his past, but many people had things in their past that hurt to remember or they were ashamed of. She rarely ever talked about her first father or what he’d done. At least with Noah being a Christian and a minister, she’d never have to doubt his word.

  Carly stood on the edge of the field where folks had laid out their quilts and watched the children playing. The younger ones, their bellies full of their mamas’ cooking, played with less enthusiasm than they had when church had first let out. She watched Alan and Abby playing hopscotch for a few minutes, making sure the rambunctious children were behaving. Several older girls sat in a cluster together, chatting and making chains of clover flowers. She’d never once made one. Didn’t even know how they hooked those long stems and white flowers together. She swiped her hand in the air at a pesky fly and chased it away.

  As far back as she could remember, she had helped her mama wash clothes from sunup to sundown. Hauling water, carving soap chips, squeezing clothes, and hanging them up, then taking them down later to be ironed and folded. Even today, she couldn’t resist shuddering when Rachel needed help with the laundry. She’d rather clean a privy.

  Would life have been different if she’d had a father? Would her mama still have had to work so hard? Would she?

  Pressing her lips together, she blew a heavy breath out her nose. She would never know—and wishing life were different wouldn’t change the past. But she could hope the future would be different.

  She scanned a crowd of men standing near the horses and wagons and found Garrett beside Luke. They stood with a half dozen others in a rough circle. One man raised his fist, and though she couldn’t hear the words, she suspected they were talking about the murder. Everybody had been talking about it. From what Rachel had said, it was the first that had ever taken place in Lookout.

  Garrett glanced in her direction and winked. She smiled back, feeling heat warm her cheeks that had nothing to do with the sun. Two women dressed in calico and sunbonnets walked between her and Garrett. One lady glanced at her and scowled, then leaned toward her friend and said something.

  Her smile fading, Carly looked away, feeling the brunt of their silent censure. She zigzagged her way through the groups of families, back to the Davises’ quilt, wishing Rachel had come or that Jack would return. She smiled a thank-you to Mrs. Castleby for keeping an eye on Emmie while she slept on the quilt.

  After sitting and rearranging her skirt, Carly leaned her head back against one of the few trees shading the field. Her eyes drifted shut, and she yawned. Taking a nap right about now would be nice, but the wedding was soon to start. The steady hum of conversation lulled her into a limp state, and her whole body relaxed, her arms felt as heavy as leg irons.

  On the other side of the old oak tree, two women chatted about a recipe, but she tried to ignore them. She lifted up a heavy hand and swatted at a mosquito that landed on Emmie’s calf. She sighed. If only she knew more people.

  “What’dya think about that murder—and those break-ins? Ghastly, aren’t they?” one lady behind her said. Carly stiffened.

  “Yes, it’s getting so that a decent woman’s afraid to walk the streets of Lookout these days.”

  Carly rolled her eyes at the woman’s exaggeration.

  “Well, if’n you ask me, I think it was that female outlaw. All these appalling things didn’t happen until after she came back to Lookout.”

  Carly gasped, their cruel words breaking her fragile hope. Unable to listen to any more nattering, she pushed up from the quilt. Her heart ached. Would these people never accept her? Couldn’t they see she’d changed?

  She scooped Emmie up in her arms and looked for Luke. She noticed Garrett instead, talking to Mr. Howard, and made a beeline for him. He smiled in her direction. Mr. Howard turned his head, looking right at her, and one brow lifted. But instead of censure in his gaze she saw surprise, then his mouth curved up in a grin. Too bad Leah had left earlier to go feed her baby. At least she and Carly had something in common.

  Garrett leaned toward Mr. Howard, who nodded. Then Garrett walked toward her. His smile dipped. “Is something wrong?”

  Carly shrugged, unable to explain her unease. He’d lived in this town his whole life. How could she expect him to understand how badly the woman’s unjus
tified accusations had hurt?

  “I thought I’d take Emmie home. The sun is moving toward our quilt, and I don’t want her to get a sunburn.”

  “But what about the wedding?”

  Carly shrugged. “I don’t know those folks gettin’ married, other than she owns the store, and he once hoped to marry Rachel and also your brother’s wife—before she married Mark, of course.”

  Garrett leaned toward her and waggled his blond brows, his blue eyes sparking with mischief, somewhat soothing the pain the callous women had inflicted. “Don’t you want to get some ideas for our weddin’?”

  “You don’t wanna marry me.” Tears stung her eyes, frustrating her. She never cried—not even when Luke had hauled her to jail all those years ago. Not even when her brother sat in the cell next to hers, giving her the skunk eye and blaming her for his capture, for hours on end. Only Luke’s threats to gag Ty and hog-tie him made him finally shut up.

  Garrett grabbed her elbow and hauled her toward the edge of the crowd. Folks gawked at her as if she’d done something wrong or was trying to steal Luke’s young’un. Standing between two wagons, so that nobody could see them, he dropped her arm and shoved his hands to his hips. “Why would you say that? I wouldn’t have asked to court you if I didn’t intend on marryin’ you.”

  Carly shifted Emmie to her other arm. The girl was small, but heavy.

  “Let me hold her.”

  “No, I need to take her home. Could you tell Luke and then help him keep an eye out for Alan and Abby until Jacqueline returns?”

  “Don’t think I didn’t notice you changed the subject.”

  A horse behind Carly nickered, as if asking for a handout. Why couldn’t Garrett just let her go without causing a ruckus? “I prayed and thought God gave me the go-ahead, but I’m foolin’ myself to think we could ever marry.”

  “Why?” His face crinkled up, making him look as if he’d been sucking on lemons. “Am I too old for you? Is that it?”