by Renee Ryan
Make no mistake, Miss Taylor, I’ll ask…when I’m ready.
Pounding her fist into her pillow, Katherine barely stifled the urge to scream out her frustration. Trey Scott certainly had more than his share of audacity.
There was something alluring about a man who took what he wanted and then guarded it with complete conviction once he had it in his possession. That sort of caring made a woman feel safe, cherished.
With that thought, Katherine threw off the bedcovers and pushed herself out of bed. Gritting her teeth, she began to pace. With each step, she struggled against the awful notion that she’d lost an important battle before it had truly begun. Trey Scott might be a lawman. He might still be in love with his dead wife. And he might carry a driving need for vengeance that could one day destroy him. But he was also handsome and charming and had a way with Molly that truly amazed Katherine.
With a soft thud, something landed at her feet, drawing her attention from her troubled thoughts. She looked down at the object on the floor, leaning over at the exact moment a virtual onslaught of various colors, shapes and sizes rained through her open window.
Reaching to the floor, she picked up one of the…flowers? Before she could grasp what was happening, more followed. And more still, accumulating into a soft rainbow of color at her feet. Studying the blossoms, she noted that a scrap of paper hung from each of the flowers’ stems. Trying to read one of the scribbled messages, she bent forward. But another batch flew into the window, pelting her gently in the head and shoulders.
As the flower assault continued, a wave of girlish giggles slipped out of her lips. She fumbled to the nightstand and quickly lit a lantern.
Picking up a random stem, she read the scrawled, nearly illegible message aloud. “Marry me.”
Half dreading, half hoping to read the same message again, she chose another flower. “Marry me.” She picked up three more. “Marry me. Marry me. Oh, and what’s this? Marry me.”
The protective shield she’d wrapped around her heart started melting.
Another batch of flowers shot through the window, followed by a loud whisper. “Katherine.”
With something perilously close to a smile on her lips, she headed toward the window. Only to be hit in the face with a red geranium.
“Katherine, come out here.”
Afraid to move, to breathe—and not quite understanding why—she stood frozen in place, staring numbly at the window.
“Katherine.”
Realizing Trey’s whispers were getting louder with each demand, she dodged another rapid-fire round of blossoms and rushed to the window. Leaning her head into the crisp night air, she locked gazes with her favorite U.S. marshal one floor below.
Whipping off his hat, Trey bowed. “Fair maiden.”
When he straightened, his expression looked a bit worried, as though he wasn’t completely sure of himself. And for a brief moment, the loneliness Katherine had held at bay all her life disappeared inside a painful hope that Trey Scott would become the man she wanted him to be.
She didn’t want to disturb the magnificent picture Trey made with his hat in hand, and his smile flashing, but curiosity got the best of her. “What do you want, Trey?”
He bent down on one knee. “Marry me. Take my name as your own.”
Ridiculous as he looked, she’d never been more charmed by a man. “You’re going to wake up the rest of the house.”
With an uncharacteristic lack of grace, he shifted to a standing position. “Then come out here and let me ask you properly.”
She had an insane urge to rush outside and fling herself into his arms. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He lifted on his toes and leaned forward. “Then I’m coming up there.”
“You wouldn’t. You can’t.”
He started toward the trellis. “I can, especially when my woman is being unreasonable and stubborn.”
My woman? Katherine’s pulse picked up speed, but she knew better than to read too much into his words.
Trey Scott had an agenda, coming here at this indecent hour. And it certainly wasn’t a godly one.
Looking around to make sure they were still alone, she leaned farther out the window and lowered her voice. “Go home, Trey. We’ll talk in the morning.”
He wrapped his fingers around the bottom rung in front of him. “Looks like I’m coming up.”
“No, you’re not. You’re going home.”
He started to climb, missed his footing then started again.
Panicked that he might follow through with his outrageous threat, she said, “Stop.”
He continued, made it halfway up the wall, wobbled a bit on a faulty slat then fell to the ground, landing flat on his back.
“Trey?”
No response.
“Trey.”
Nothing.
“Trey, talk to me.”
“I’m…all right.”
“Can you move?”
He waved a hand in the air.
“Stay there. I’m coming down.”
He immediately jumped to his feet. “I knew you’d see things my way.”
“You tricked me, you beast.”
“I guess this means I have to come up there, after all.” He had the brass to look pleased.
“Stay there. I’ll only be a moment.”
Pivoting back to the interior of her room, Katherine lowered her gaze to the collection of flowers on the floor. Tears of hope welled in her eyes, mocking her attempt to remain rational. As hard as she tried to harden her heart, a wisp of a sigh rose from her soul.
She wasn’t accustomed to romantic displays of affection. And, with a woman’s instincts, she knew Trey wasn’t accustomed to giving them. Which made his ridiculous flower shower all the more special.
No. She would not be moved by his calculated attempts to win her. Trey was a U.S. marshal, a man not only angry at God, but one who would abandon her and Molly each time he went to seek vengeance for his dead wife.
With that last thought, renewed determination dug deep. No matter what happened here tonight, Katherine had to get Trey Scott out of their lives.
She jammed her arms into her robe and quickly headed out into the hallway. She padded along the back stairs as quickly as she could without making any noise.
Releasing the lock, she opened the back door leading off the kitchen and collided directly into Trey. “Oh.”
With one hand, he reached out, steadied her. “Miss Taylor, always a pleasure.”
She glared at him, told herself she was too angry to notice how his gray eyes glinted like silver fire in the moonlight. Or how his hair shone dark as onyx. Nor did she notice how tall and handsome he looked with that devilish grin on his face.
No, she didn’t notice any of that.
“Are you drunk?” she asked, more out of an attempt to gain equal footing than genuine suspicion.
“I may be a man with my share of sin, but that’s one vice you won’t pin on me.” There was steel, hard and immovable, in his voice.
She’d clearly insulted him.
“Of course. I’m sorry. It’s just so late. And you’re so…different tonight.”
He opened his mouth to speak again, but she crooked her finger at him. “Not out here. Come with me to where the neighbors won’t see us.”
He gave her a two-finger salute.
She ignored his arrogant attitude, squared her shoulders and set out at a clipped pace.
He dutifully followed behind her. Which put her instantly on guard. Trey Scott was anything but accommodating.
Once inside the house, he proved true to form. Shouldering the door shut, he said, “Marry me.”
“No.”
Angling his head, he spoke in that arrogant tone of his. “Did you like the flowers?”
Her heart flipped in her chest at his eager, almost boyish expression. He really was ridiculous, and a dear, dear man. Her defenses were quickly melting under his sweet attempt to woo her. A bit too qu
ickly.
She had to catch her breath.
“Of course I liked the flowers, you big fool.” She motioned to a stool sitting next to the chopping block in the center of the kitchen. “Now sit down and lower your voice.”
He reached out and knuckled a lock of hair away from her forehead. “It seems, Miss Taylor, you’ve driven me to sneaking around in the dark. Don’t you think you should try harder at saving my soul?”
She would not laugh. She would not laugh. She would not laugh. “I’m not taking responsibility for your tumble from bad to worse.” She steered him toward the stool. “Now, sit.”
He obeyed, then lifted a single eyebrow at her. “Bet I can change your mind about us.”
Fighting the urge to smile at him, she put her best teacher glare in place. “Nothing you say could possibly make a difference to me.”
He cocked his head. “Who said anything about talking?”
“You wouldn’t dare. Not with the children upstairs. Must I remind you that any one of them could come in here and catch us, like they did this morning?”
“Of course not.” He threw his palms in the air. “I came only to talk. Really. You see, I’ve been thinking—”
“Imagine that.”
He talked right over her insult. “I’ve come up with a brilliant reason why you have to marry me.” He tapped his temple. “Got it all figured out.”
“I’m running over with anticipation.”
“Notice how I’m ignoring your sarcasm?”
Intrigued in spite of herself, she was careful to keep her tone neutral. “Mmm. So what is this brilliant reason of yours?”
“Molly needs a father.” He shot her a triumphant grin. “And I think it should be me.”
Katherine could only stare at Trey. He wanted to become Molly’s father? That was the reason for his latest proposal? A strange sense of disappointment hung heavy in her chest, stealing her ability to breathe. Yet, a hidden desire kicked into life.
Oh, to have the opportunity to provide Molly with a complete family, to give her the life Katherine had never had, was tempting. Very tempting.
Needing a moment to gather her thoughts, Katherine started pacing.
“Think about it.” Trey scrubbed a hand down his face. “We could provide Molly with two parents, a mother and a father.”
She stopped midstride. “Oh, Trey. I—”
His eyes softened. “You’d make a wonderful mother.”
For a dreadful moment, as Trey stared at her with that tender expression on his face, Katherine wondered what his child would look like. Black hair, gray eyes—a hidden wild streak.
No. No, no, no. This was the exact kind of thinking that would lead her to make a dreadful mistake. They weren’t evenly yoked. And even if Trey mended his anger at God and became a practicing Christian again, he didn’t want her as a wife. He loved Laurette, sought her killer with such passion, there could be no room in his heart for more.
Yes, he wanted Molly as a daughter. She didn’t doubt that for a moment, but on his terms. In the end Trey was a man who would always put revenge for his dead wife’s murder ahead of everything else. Katherine would do well to remember that part of the equation.
“I’m predicting we’ll have an early snow,” she said. “What do you think?”
He rose. “I didn’t come here to discuss the weather.”
She slid a glance over her shoulder, her breath catching in her throat again. The man looking at her now knew what he wanted. And possibly even why he wanted it.
Which made little sense. As far she could tell, the only thing Trey Scott wanted was vengeance. Right?
“I was giving you a chance to get this insane notion out of your head,” she said at last.
“Marry me.”
“Let’s see if I can make this simple enough for you to understand…No.”
“But Molly—”
“Is perfectly happy at Charity House. She’s not alone here. There are forty other children sharing this home with her.”
“You’re forgetting the moral implications in the matter.” He strode closer. “You’re the schoolmarm.”
“Yes.” She dropped her gaze to her shaking hands. “For abandoned children of prostitutes.”
His eyes narrowed, becoming more determined than ever. “All the more reason to keep your reputation clean of any more ugly talk. I find it necessary to remind you that not everyone in this neighborhood wants Charity House to thrive. They could use a scandal of this nature, as unfounded as it may be, to shut your school down.”
Her heart skipped only a beat at his words, but the sensation was sharp and fierce. “I have to trust God will protect us from such an occurrence.”
His mouth dropped open. “You can’t possibly be that naive.”
“Believing that God will provide does not make me naive. It makes me—” she poked him in the chest “—faithful.”
He simply stared at her, his eyes wide.
“It does,” she insisted.
Still staring at her with unblinking eyes, he slowly shook his head. “You were caught cavorting with a man in the supply closet of your school. At best, people will merely talk. At worst, they could try to shut down your school.”
“Oh, Trey. Laney and Marc would never let that happen.”
His chin lifted at a stubborn angle. “People will say you did things you didn’t do. I can’t live with that.”
Cupping her palm on his cheek, she gave him a patient smile. “I didn’t know you were such a prude.”
“Having a firm set of ethics and morals when it comes to how people treat you does not make me a prude.” He pressed his forehead against hers for a moment, then pulled back and took two steps away from her. “Let me make you a respectable woman. Let me give you the honor you deserve.”
The sincerity in his tone nearly had her relenting, but then she remembered his devotion to his dead wife, the passion in which he pursued her killer, and Katherine doubted his words. Besides which, marriage would solve nothing between them. “No.”
“Don’t you want to be a good example for the children? For Molly?”
“Of course, I do. But, Trey, it’s not like we were, well…you know.”
“That doesn’t matter.” He shook his head. “No, actually, it makes it that much more imperative that you do the right thing. You have to lead by example, Katherine, especially in the seemingly small matters.”
If only it were that simple. “In case you have forgotten, I’m the daughter of a prostitute.” This time she raised her hand to stop him from interrupting. “Though I attend church every Sunday, my faith is always in question. And I will always be Sadie Taylor’s daughter.”
He winced but continued staring at her for a long moment, measuring. Gauging. “You’re afraid.”
She swallowed back a gasp, wondered at his meaning for only a moment before denying the absurd accusation. “No, I’m realistic.”
He stepped forward, stroked his hand down her hair in an affectionate gesture. “I won’t intentionally hurt you, Katherine. Marry me, and let me show you that I know how to treat a woman like you, a woman who deserves nothing but kindness from a man.”
“I…I can’t. And you know why.” She didn’t want to bring up his dead wife again—it would hurt them both too much—but she would if he continued pressing the issue of marriage.
As though hearing her thoughts, he placed his finger on her lips. “I won’t give you words I don’t have, but I promise I will take care of you and Molly.”
Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith…. As the Scripture from 1 Corinthians came to her mind, tears threatened. “And if you die? How will you take care of us then?”
He reached out to her, dropped his hand when she shook her head at him.
“It always comes back to that, doesn’t it? I might live for vengeance. But you live in fear. Where’s your faith?”
“Don’t turn this back on me,” she said, quickly closing her mind to the possibility th
at fear, and not logic, fueled her resolve.
“I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. And I mean anything. We can have a marriage in name only, if that’s what you want.”
His soft, understanding tone set her on edge. Why was he being so nice, so caring and thoughtful of her fears? Why couldn’t she trust in his consideration for her feelings?
Because, deep down, in a place shattered by violence, she didn’t believe she was deserving of any man’s kindness, especially this man, who only meant to offer her compassion. She was tainted, ruined. And Trey Scott deserved better.
He deserved a woman who wouldn’t shy away from his touch.
Without looking at him directly, she turned to go. “Goodbye, Trey.”
“We’re not through, Katherine,” Trey said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t leave now that we’ve come this far. Stay and fight.”
She took the coward’s way out. “I…can’t.”
Pivoting, she released a sob and ran from the kitchen.
Chapter Eleven
One week after the incident with Katherine in the Charity House kitchen, Trey stood outside the jailhouse and eyed his surroundings. The buildings lining the street cast long shadows on the pocked mud, indicating the end of another day.
As he pondered his next move with the stubborn Miss Taylor, the only outward signs of Trey’s irritation came in the fast, rhythmic ticking of his pulse and the white-knuckled grip he wrapped around the railing in front of him. Otherwise, he stood unmoving as he watched the sun sink into a long finger of reddened clouds in the distance.
A cool breeze whispered across his face but did little to soothe his frustration. The swift spasm in his gut warned him time was running out, and here he stood, contemplating the sun and the sky and the breeze. Yet as hard as he searched for possible options to the problem of Katherine Taylor, not a single solution materialized.
The stubborn, willful schoolmarm had successfully thwarted his efforts to court her this past week. How was he supposed to honor his promise to protect her from the repercussions of ugly gossip when he couldn’t even speak to her? He certainly didn’t want her to find out from anybody but him that he was leaving town again.
