The Marshal Takes A Bride

by Sylvia McDaniel

  Ripping open the envelope, she quickly scanned the contents.

  Sarah,

  Tucker came by and took Lucas fishing. He said you’d know where. Hope you don't mind, but I had a meeting I needed to attend, so I agreed to let Lucas go. I’ll be gone until tomorrow.

  Sarah did mind, her heart pounding with adrenaline. Her grandfather had let her baby go with his father. A more undisciplined man she had never met. What if he didn’t watch Lucas carefully? What if Lucas slipped and fell into the pond? What if he realized the child was his son?

  Maybe it was illogical, but she didn’t want Tucker spending time with the boy, especially time alone.

  “Please have a wagon brought around for me,” she informed the clerk.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  Within fifteen minutes they brought around a small team for her to drive.

  She walked out to the waiting wagon and climbed up into the wagon seat.

  Sarah slapped the reins against the back of the horses and yelled, “Giddyap.”

  The wagon lurched, the wheels rolling down the street. How could her grandfather let Tucker take Lucas? But then again, her grandfather didn’t know that Tucker was the boy’s real father. He didn’t know that Tucker had left her before the sun rose the morning after they had made love. Just as she had not known that she was pregnant until two months later.

  The horses kicked up dust, but Sarah paid little heed as the wagon carried her to the creek where they would meet when they were younger. It took her little more than half an hour to find Tucker and her son. Yet when she did, the sight gave her a jolt for which she was unprepared.

  Lucas sat in his father’s lap holding a fishing pole, while Tucker’s head was bent next to the child. She watched as her son giggled when they caught a small perch. He clapped his hands excitedly as his father swung the fishing line up to the bank where they sat.

  Her heart suddenly shattered. What had she done? Tucker was the boy’s father. Didn’t he deserve to know he had a son?

  A lump formed in her throat, and for the first time she doubted the decisions she had made regarding her son. He deserved to know the man whose facial features had fashioned his own. He deserved to know the man who had sired him. Lucas deserved to know his father, just as Tucker deserved to know the boy he had helped to create.

  She swallowed and watched as Tucker removed the fish from the line, put it on a stringer, and then baited the hook for her son once again. He dropped the line in the water, the cork bouncing with the ripples of the pond.

  Sarah sighed, set the brake and then climbed down from the wagon, carefully holding her skirt. As she started walking toward the two of them, Tucker had his arms around the boy, talking to him quietly.

  How could she be angry with him for taking her son when the two of them were having such a good time? How could she continue to keep the knowledge of Lucas’s parentage from Tucker and live with herself? How could she break up this party when Lucas was obviously quite contented?

  “Watch your cork, Lucas. You have to sit real still and let the fish play with your bait.”

  Tucker put his fingers together and tried to make his hand look like a fish going after the bait and explain how it would work for Lucas.

  “Here comes the fish. And when it takes a big bite of the worm, the cork will go under, and you’ll pull the pole up to catch the fish. ”

  Lucas giggled, and Sarah had to cover her mouth as she watched Tucker showing Lucas how a fish would bite his worm.

  “Tish,” Lucas called.

  “Yes, we’re fishing,” Tucker said. “Look, you’re getting a bite now.”

  Sarah looked on as Tucker steadied the pole and then helped Lucas pull it up just as the fish let go.”

  “Oops, we missed. Let’s try again,” Tucker said to the boy, still unaware that she watched them.

  Sarah felt an overwhelming tug on her heart as she stared at the two of them together, fishing, having fun. The anger she had been filled with dissipated, and she was left standing there in shock, with the realization that sooner or later she had to tell Tucker about Lucas. Sooner or later, her secret would have to be exposed. But when? And how?

  “Hi,” she called out weakly, suddenly afraid to be alone with her thoughts any longer.

  Tucker turned around and saw her standing there. It was the first time they had seen each other since that awful trip to the Melbournes’ that had ended with them snapping at each other all the way home.

  She could only stare at Tucker as a compelling warmth stole over her, settling in the lower regions of her body. No matter what had happened between them before, at this moment she wanted his arms around her once again, holding her, telling her that everything would be all right.

  He returned her stare, his eyes saying so many things he would never follow through on. Things she had steeled her heart against ever thinking about Tucker again.

  Lucas caught sight of her and squealed with delight. He jumped up from Tucker’s lap and ran as fast as his little legs would carry him. “Momma, Momma, see tish.”

  He wrapped his arms around her legs, almost knocking her over. She had to pry his arms loose to squat down beside him and hold him tightly in her embrace. The smell of talcum powder drifted in the air, soothing her, swelling her heart with love. “What have you been doing?”

  “Tish. I tish.” He pulled out of her arms, grabbed her hand and tugged on her. “Come see.”

  She laughed at her son and glanced up to see Tucker watching them. She let Lucas lead her over to Tucker on the bank of the stream where they had spent the afternoon together. Lucas leaned over the water, reaching for the string of fish.

  Tucker grabbed him by the arm. “Whoa there, son, let me help you.”

  Sarah felt her heart skip a beat, and while she tried to tell herself it was because Lucas had been hanging over the water, she couldn’t help but hear the echo of Tucker saying the word “son.”

  Tucker pulled the string of fish up out of the water and handed them to Lucas. “Show your mother what we’ve been doing all afternoon.”

  “Momma, see. Tishes. I caught tish.” He jumped up and down excitedly.

  “You are such a good boy. And a good fisherman, too. I’m so proud of you,” she said, feeling the tears prick her eyelids, knowing it was silly, but it was one of those motherly moments. In years to come, she would look back and remember her son holding that string of fish, so proud of his accomplishment, while Tucker looked on.

  For a moment she thought of Eugenia and could almost understand her interfering ways. Yet it was hard to remember the woman meant well and that she had honored Sarah by choosing her to be with Tucker.

  Sarah glanced up and saw Tucker watching her, a silly grin on his face.

  “Momma, I rode horse with Tuck,” Lucas cried. He dropped the string of fish and ran to her.

  “What did you say, son?” she asked, afraid of what he had just told her.

  “I rode horse.” He shook his head. “I big boy.” She sent Tucker a stem look. He had put her baby up on his horse? She glared at him.

  “Did Tuck think that maybe you were a little young to be on a horse?” she asked quietly. Her son frowned, knowing from the tone of her voice that she was displeased, but not really understanding.

  Tucker, who had finished putting the fish back in the water, walked up the embankment to Sarah and Lucas. “Come on, Sarah. This is Texas. Babies are born on horseback.”

  “Maybe, but not my son.”

  “I wouldn’t have let anything happen to him. You must know that.”

  “Maybe so, but I wasn’t all that happy when I found out you had him.”

  “Why? The boy needs to spend some time with a man. It was time he learned how to fish.”

  Sarah felt Lucas tug on her skirt, but she ignored him. Tucker’s insinuations that she was less than a good parent, simply because her son didn’t have a man, were starting to infuriate her.

  “He’s two and he’s my s
on. You should have asked my permission.”

  Lucas tugged even harder.

  “You weren’t around, and your grandfather needed some help. So I volunteered.”

  “Momma?” Lucas said, tugging on her skirt.

  She glanced down at the boy. “What?”

  Lucas took her by the hand, and then he reached up and took Tucker’s hand. “Tish?”

  The sight of their son holding both of their hands, gazing up at her with such a soulful expression in his big brown eyes that looked so much like his father’s, caused her to choke up.

  Her gaze briefly went to Tucker. What was the point of arguing over what had been done? Why not enjoy what was left of the day?

  Tucker stared back at her, a sheepish grin on his face. “He’s quite a charmer, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, he is,” she whispered. “Okay, Lucas, show me how to catch a fish.”

  Not releasing their hands, he pulled them toward the water, laughing excitedly.

  She glanced at Tucker. He smiled at her, his eyes warm with a light that usually shone just before he kissed her. The thought of his lips on hers left her with a feeling that curled her insides.

  She let the feelings wash over her. For just this moment she was going to enjoy this day. For just this small space of time, they were a family on an outing, teaching their son to fish.

  For just this moment she wanted to pretend that Tucker loved her and would be by her side forever.

  ***

  The sun had long since disappeared below the western horizon as the trio rode back into town. Tucker had tied his horse to the back of the wagon and sat driving the team with Sarah beside him, the wagon jostling her against him. The rub of her body against his had him fairly smoldering for Sarah. It was late, they were tired, but Tucker couldn’t remember a more pleasant afternoon.

  Lucas had kept them laughing at his silly antics, while the three of them had fished until they ran out of bait and were forced to return to town. Sarah had laughed and bantered with Tucker as she had when they were kids. It was the first time since she had been back that he felt as if the girl he knew had finally come home.

  Several times he had caught her staring at him, but neither one had said anything about the afternoon of their kiss. Though he had wanted to kiss her again, he knew she would have resisted because of Lucas, and they were having too much fun for him to cause trouble.

  He glanced at Lucas. He had never given children much thought. But Lucas was fun. He was bright, vivacious, and it would be exciting to watch him grow into manhood. If ever Tucker wanted a family, this was what he would want.

  The thought of staying and raising children surprised him. That would mean staying forever. That would mean getting married and settling down. That would mean responsibilities and no more drifting. And he had been born never to settle down. Even the thought of putting down roots disturbed him. Yet being without Sarah left him uneasy.

  He looked over at Sarah. She held Lucas in her lap, asleep. Her cheeks and nose looked as though the sun had kissed them. Her blond hair was more down than up with wisps flying loose around her face. She was windblown, tired and had never looked more beautiful.

  Tucker drove the team up to the front door of the El Paso Hotel and set the brake of the wagon. “Sarah?”

  “Hmm,” she said, distracted as she rubbed the back of Lucas’s head with her hand.

  “I really enjoyed today. It was fun.”

  She glanced up at him. Even in the darkness the expression in her blue eyes caused his breath to quicken

  “So did I, Tucker.”

  “Maybe next week on my day off we can do that again. Or better yet, we’ll take Lucas out to the ranch and go horseback riding.”

  She smiled. “We’ll see.”

  “You know, as much as I enjoyed Lucas, the thing that brought me the most pleasure today was you.” Tucker said the words before he had a chance to stop himself.

  She turned and stared at him, an astonished look on her face. He shrugged and gave a small grin. “We’ve always been good together, and today reminded me so much of how things used to be between us. Before Tombstone.”

  They sat there in front of the hotel, staring at one another, feeling awkward, the air thick with the memory of their night together in Tombstone.

  Finally, after what felt like forever, Tucker cleared his throat. “I better carry Lucas upstairs for you.”

  She smiled. “That would be nice. He’s almost too big and heavy for me to carry.”

  After climbing down from the wagon, he helped Sarah alight and then lifted the sleeping child in his arms and held his soft cuddly body against his own. A feeling of protectiveness overwhelmed him, and he looked up to find Sarah watching him.

  “We better get him in bed,” Tucker said, his voice cracking when he spoke.

  “Yes,” she said, and turned toward the hotel.

  They walked through the front door, and Tucker waited as Sarah hurried over to the desk clerk. “The wagon I borrowed this afternoon is outside. Please take care of it. And have someone care for Mr. Burnett’s horse.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the young man replied.

  Together the two of them began to climb the stairs to her grandfather’s suite of rooms. Neither one of them said anything, yet Tucker couldn’t help but recall the way Sarah felt in his arms, the soft texture of her skin and the feel of her lips against his.

  Sarah, who was so smart, so strong and defiant, so much more than he ever deserved in a woman. Yet she was the one woman he could never seem to erase completely from his mind. And he had tried. Lord, how he had tried.

  Tucker gazed down at the boy in his arms. Sarah was a mother. What in the hell was he doing thinking about her in the biblical way?

  Sarah unlocked the door, and they stepped into the living area. “Where do you want me to lay him down?”

  “Let’s put him in his bed. He’s so tired,” she said, rubbing her hand down the child’s arm.

  Tucker carried the boy down a short hall to a room that held a small bed and gently laid the sleeping child down, careful not to wake him. The boy rolled onto his side and curled into a ball, sinking deeper into sleep.

  “He is out,” Tucker whispered, as they stood there watching the boy sleep.

  Sarah nodded, reached down and pulled the covers up over the child, then gently kissed him on the cheek. They tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind them.

  “I can’t believe he slept through all that and didn’t open his eyes once,” Tucker said.

  “He played hard today,” she replied.

  They stood in the living area, Tucker feeling anxious as he stared at Sarah. She hadn’t turned on a lantern yet, and the semidarkness seemed to surround them like a cloak. The air was thick with tension, and the urge to pull her into his arms was strong, but he resisted.

  “Let me turn up a lantern,” she said, bustling about nervously. She struck a match, the flame flaring, radiating her face with light. Her hands were shaking as she put the match to the lantern wick and then turned the flame until the light seemed to glow about the two of them.

  He glanced at her and felt as if someone had knocked his knees out from under him. She stood in the living area, the lantern light reflecting off her hair, shimmering about her, iridescent and soft. Her full lips seemed to beckon to him, and all he could do was think about the way her kiss made him forget everything but the touch of her lips.

  He swallowed and tried to look away. But the very air around him seemed heavy, suppressed. Almost as if it were so thick he couldn’t breathe. Yet the swish of his own breath sounded loud in the lamplight.

  “Would you like something to drink?” she asked. “I know you must be tired.”

  Not too tired for her, he couldn’t help but think.

  “I better be going,” he said, twirling his hat in his hands, wishing she wasn’t so tempting as he stared at her, knowing he had to leave or be enticed to stay.

  “Yes, it is getting lat
e,” she whispered.

  He walked to the door and put his hand on the knob. The metal felt cool against his hand. As he turned to tell her good-bye, he bumped into her, their bodies pressing against each other for a brief moment of contact.

  Tucker almost groaned. First the wagon ride and now this; how much more could a man take before he gave in? A man whose resistance ran like a halfdried creek, low on substance.

  She was so close he could smell the lavender soap she bathed with, and he breathed deeply, trying to control the desire that filled him. She stepped back, and he wanted her closer. He wanted to touch her, feel her soft skin beneath his fingertips, and wrap his arms around her. He wanted to lose himself in her gaze and find himself in the shelter of her embrace.

  “Will I see you tomorrow?” she asked, her voice whispery soft.

  He couldn’t speak as he stared at her lips, drawn to their fullness, to their silky sheen. He nodded and watched as his finger reached out and stroked her cheek.

  That simple touch was a mistake. The feel of her skin beneath his own ignited a firestorm that flashed through him. Unable to resist a moment longer, he lowered his mouth to hers as she lifted her lips to meet his halfway.

  Chapter Eleven

  Blood roared in Sarah’s ears as she leaned into Tucker’s kiss, unable to resist the pull of his attraction any longer. The realization that she still cared for this man had left her feeling reckless. Coupled with the pleasant interlude they had shared this afternoon, she was defenseless against her unbearable need to be in his arms. And she could no longer fight the feelings she had for this man, the father of her child.

  Consequences be damned, she was hungry for the feel of his body twined around hers, delirious with wanting him, desperate to be possessed by Tucker. His mouth plundered hers, and she returned his feverous kisses with a fierceness that surprised her. She placed her hands on his face and molded his lips to hers, opening to receive him. He tasted of sun-kissed days and pleasure-filled nights. Sweet, sinful sensations erupted in a delicious soft moan that escaped from the back of her throat.

  His hands gripped her shoulders as though he would never let her go, his lips plundering hers, as he pushed her back until the back of her legs bumped into the wall. Her body was flat against the hard surface as he leaned into his kiss, pressing his arousal through her skirts into the vee of her legs. From the feel of his muscular thighs to the strength of his sinewy chest, she felt all of him. Every delicious, rock-hard inch.