Dent’s gaze drifted back to the cross. “Why does love always have to be about sacrifice?”
“Because if it’s not, it isn’t love.”
Amy could have sworn she was walking on air as she hurried home to her little cabin. The sky overhead was a cloudless, stunning sapphire. The spring breeze refreshed her soul, and her heart soared with the sparrows. Israel was alive and doing well.
She couldn’t think of anything that could make her happier, except perhaps—
“Amy.”
Dent.
Whirling around, she saw him coming out of the church. He’d been talking to Pastor Wills? Could that be a sign of future plans? He jogged across the street to her, dark hair dancing beneath his hat, brown eyes flashing. They laced their fingers together and Amy read the longing in his tender expression, but they didn’t kiss on the street.
“On your way home?”
“I am, Sheriff.”
“May I walk with you?”
She nodded, delighted with his company, but a flicker of something gloomy in his expression lowered her spirits. Then she remembered that she couldn’t share with him the good news about Israel—at least not yet—and that weighed even more on her heart.
Arm-in-arm they strolled down the street, the traffic here at the edge of town sparse. A flock of chickens wandered around the livery stable, pecking at the ground with great deliberation.
Dent and Amy remained quiet until they reached the outskirts. “You were coming from the church,” she finally said. “I’m a little surprised by that. Can I ask why you were there, or is it private?”
Dent sniffed and shook his head. “No, I want to tell you. Some of it’s just not easy to put into words.”
She nodded, waiting, willing to let him find his way.
“You’re gonna hear soon enough. I have Dillard in jail.”
She leaped back from him. “What?”
“He started a little bit of a scuffle with me.”
Amy couldn’t comprehend. She blinked and took another step back. The pain in Dent’s eyes, though, brought her back to him. Searching his face, she rested her hands on his shoulders. “What happened?”
Dent dropped his hands to her waist. “This isn’t easy to say.”
She nodded. “Just say it.”
“Your father sent Dillard here to break us up. When that didn’t work, he dangled a carrot.”
Amy frowned. That her father would stoop to something as manipulative as interfering in her love life didn’t surprise her. She was deeply disappointed he hadn’t given Dent a chance. But what of this carrot? “My father has a tendency to overstep his bounds, Dent. I’m sorry. What’s he done now?”
“He found my father’s killer.”
A sense of dread cascaded over Amy. Mayor Coker had dangled a similar form of this bait, revealing the killer’s name, and tearing out Dent’s heart in the process. Now he would go through all that agony again? She touched his cheek. “Where is he?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not going after him.”
At first, joy surged through her. He had said he was done with the darkness—the addiction to revenge, the constant dance with death. He had left it all behind. But something didn’t feel right. “Dent, I know you’re still dealing with guilt over letting Israel go. Are you sure you want to let this go, too?”
He took too long to answer. “Yes. I thought long and hard about it. You might even say I prayed. At first I wanted to leave today, but I sat still and tried to listen. I—I—” he seemed to flounder for words— “I just want to build a life with you, Amy. I’ve decided you’re more important to me than anything. Including this.”
She sighed and looked down at the ground. “You’re a good lawman now, Dent. I mean, you wear the badge for justice, not vengeance. Right?” She came back to him. “Right?”
“Yes.” He tilted his head, his brow creasing with suspicion. “But that doesn’t mean—”
“If I said you should go and arrest this man, with my blessing, would you? Would my opinion matter?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know. What are you saying?”
“That I don’t want this left hanging out there for the rest of our lives. If you believe you can find and arrest this man, I think it would be good for you.”
Dent pulled his hands away from her and stepped back. Confusion, sadness, played out on his face.
She clutched his vest and pulled him back to her. “I love you, Dent. And I know you’ll always wonder. I think if you close this chapter, you’ll be whole. I think you can do this for the right reason now. Justice.”
He caressed her cheek. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll...get lost?”
“Not in the old darkness. I’m terrified you’ll get hurt or worse. But I’m more afraid your heart won’t heal completely if you don’t do this. You’re not the same man you were. You are better. So, I’m willing to let you prove it to yourself.”
“Your sacrifice,” he whispered so softly she almost missed it.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He leaned down and kissed her, bringing the spark of joy back to their conversation. “Why don’t we just focus on the party tonight. I’m gonna have the prettiest gal in Wyoming on my arm. I am one lucky man.”
Amy was a bit surprised when Doc showed up at her door instead of Dent. For a moment, she wondered if her sheriff had headed out after his father’s killer. She opened the door to greet the physician, and the old man stopped, halfway up her porch steps.
“My gracious.” He let out a long whistle of appreciation. “If you aren’t going to be the belle of the ball.”
Amy patted the powder blue velvet skirt. “My mother sent a few of my things.” She touched the diamond choker at her neck. “Including my jewelry. It’s not too much, is it?”
“No, ma’am,” he said firmly. “You look like you stepped right out of the window at the House of Worth. I bet you’ll strike Dent dumb at the sight of you. I’d put money on it. Better yet, I’d pay to see it.”
Amy giggled over the compliments and fluffed her skirt, wondering if the bustle was a bit too much for a small party. “It’s rather formal, but I haven’t dressed up in so long.”
“Perfect,” he said with as much spunk as before. “It’s perfect.” He offered his arm. “Let’s go wow the town.”
“Speaking of the town, is that what’s held Dent up? I thought he was escorting me.” She had toyed with the idea of telling him about Israel on the way to the party, but had decided against it.
“Oh, he’ll be there. Just running a little late.”
10
Glowing Chinese lanterns filled Doc and Susan’s backyard, along with half the town. There was barely room to move, given the crowd and the picnic tables covered in food. Amy was taken aback by the number of guests.
“What’s the occasion?” she asked Doc as he led her through the packed bodies. “I didn’t realize this was going to be such a big gathering.” She nodded and smiled at several people as he pulled her over to Susan.
Standing at the head of a table covered in delicious treats, the woman gasped and clasped her hands together. “Amy, that dress is simply stunning. Poor Dent’s liable to faint dead away when he sees you.”
“Kinda what I was thinking,” Doc said as he shook a neighbor’s hand in passing. Through the murmuring of the crowd Amy heard a violin tuning up. A flute joined it, followed by a cello. “Susan said we’re going to have chamber music tonight.” Doc scanned the crowd, scowling. “I’d prefer some polkas.”
“Oh, you,” Susan swatted at him. “Why don’t you go get us some punch?”
“All righty.” Doc nodded and headed off into the laughing, chatting mass of bodies.
“It’s a lovely party, Susan.” Amy glanced around, taking in the crowd, filled now with many, many faces she knew—unlike the fall festival last year when she had been new to the town and unsure of everything. “Far bigger than you led me to believe. Is there an occasion? Should I have broug
ht a gift?”
“No, no. We, uh, just wanted to celebrate spring.”
The band struck up something classical. Amy guessed it might be Strauss’s Blue Danube. “I didn’t know anyone in Evergreen could play classical music.”
Susan laughed. “No one can. These fellas came over from Cheyenne.”
“My, you’re really putting on the dog tonight.”
A sly little smile tipped Susan’s lips. “I hope you enjoy it.” Suddenly, the woman’s gaze shot past Amy and her eyes widened to the size of harvest moons. “My, oh, my. Dent?”
Amy spun. And her breath caught in her chest. Her handsome sheriff, dressed so often in simple trousers, a cotton shirt, and a worn vest, had traded all that for an elegant, perfectly tailored tuxedo. It accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist to perfection. His boots glistened with fresh polish, a red rose hung on his lapel. The stark, white shirt seemed to glow. His tanned, clean-shaven face made her want to kiss every inch of it.
He was magnificent.
And Jeremy thought he could compete with my sheriff?
Dent’s dark eyes danced with mirth and warmth. His gaze strolled leisurely over her gown, and she saw the spark of desire ignite. He approached her and Amy realized she was holding her breath.
“Amy ...” He shook his head. “I don’t have the words.” He swallowed. “You are beautiful. The most stunning thing I’ve ever seen.”
She exhaled and smiled. “Thank you, Sheriff. When you didn’t come for me, I thought maybe you’d already left to get Joe.”
“Joe’s not going anywhere. U.S. marshals arrested him in Colorado today. Judge Lynch has already signed the extradition order. I’ll go get him in a few days.” Amy tilted her head and studied Dent. He tugged on his collar and scanned his tuxedo. “What? Something wrong with this suit?”
Yes, indeed, he was so handsome he made her heart race. But it wasn’t his looks causing this reaction in her. He exuded confidence. And peace. Like a man who had conquered a huge challenge. She was delirious; beside herself with happiness for him. He could finally let his father rest. “I was just thinking how lucky I am.”
He plucked her hand from her side. “Turned out to be a nice, well-attended party, huh?”
A little surprised by the abrupt change in subject, she slipped her arm around his waist to hold him close and revel in him. “Yes, it is.”
“Everybody in town seems to be here.”
“It appears so,” she agreed, wondering why this sudden fascination with the size of the party.
“Wonder where they got that high-toned musical group from.” Something in his voice sounded amused.
“Susan said Cheyenne.” She peered up at him, deciding the turn in conversation was a man’s way of moving past the sensitive, hearts-and-flowers kind of talk.
Dent turned and looked over the crowd again, his head cocked as if he was listening to the song. “You’re too pretty not to be out there dancing.”
Amy fought the urge to try once more to convince him to dance. “I’m fine right where I am.”
Dent shook his head and cut his eyes sideways at her. “Nah, you should be twirling and spinning, showing off that gown.” He offered her his hand. “Miss Tate, would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”
Amy’s mouth went slack. “Do you mean it?”
“I didn’t do all this,” he motioned to the party around them, “just to watch you dance with some other fella.”
“You did...all this?” Amy couldn’t fathom. Why? What was—?
Dent slipped his arm around her and pulled her in close. “Offering to take a bullet for you didn’t seem to impress you.” He cupped her chin. “I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And if the price for that is that I have to dance with you...Amy Tate, it’ll be my privilege, my honor to do so. I’m only sorry I made you unhappy over something so small.”
Amy fought the knot in her throat, but her tears wouldn’t be stopped. “It wasn’t small to you.”
“Yes, it was. Compared to how happy it could have made you, it was small and I was selfish. Love is sacrifice. I make this one willingly.”
He led her to the front of the crowd where a small space was open. To her amazement, with great skill and confidence, Dent put an arm around her and proceeded to lead her in a perfect waltz. “I thought you said you couldn’t dance.”
“I learned.”
“From whom?”
“Audra and Dillon. Doc and Susan. They gave me a few lessons.”
A wry, half-smile played on his lips. He was quite pleased with himself. And so was Amy. “Dent, now I don’t have the words to tell you how much this all means to me.” He spun her, box-stepped, twirled her again. Amy couldn’t get over his skill. “It’s—it’s grand. It’s magical.”
“So, you’re happy. Is that what I’m hearing?”
“Delirious.”
“This is better than me getting shot for you.”
“Much.”
“I guess there’s just one more thing to do then.”
“Which is?”
Dent stopped her, held her gaze with his dark, intense eyes, and slipped to one knee. Teasing her with slow, deliberate movements, he drew a ring from his pocket. “Amy, will you dance with me the rest of my life?”
Grinning, she cupped his cheeks and nodded. The crowd erupted in cheers, startling them both. But they both laughed as he slipped the ring on her finger. She pulled him to his feet and kissed him with joy and determination.
“I love you, Sheriff.”
“I love you, Amy.”
“Finish our dance?”
He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he raised her hand and waltzed with her to a perfect, soaring rendition of Blue Danube.
Amy had never enjoyed a dance more.
“The circuit judge will be around next week. You can pay your fine or plead your case.” Dent slid Dillard’s hat and wallet across his desk to the man. “I’d suggest you pay the fine and head back to Swanton. This goes to trial, you’ll lose and wind up sitting in my jail for assaulting an officer.”
A slimy little grin twitched on Dillard’s lips. He deposited the wallet in his breast pocket and picked up his little derby. “Sheriff, I’ve decided I like Evergreen. I think I’m going to stay around.”
“Amy mentioned you were thinking along those lines.”
“Any objections?”
“Plenty.” I’d object less to a hoard of spiders infesting the town. “But I’m the sheriff, not God. A man can live where he pleases in this country.”
“And what if you weren’t the sheriff? What would you do with yourself? Go back to the U.S. Marshals? Become a bounty hunter?”
The questions raised Dent’s suspicions. “You going to run against me?”
Dillard’s smile broke into a full grin. “The thought had occurred to me. I’d have a good shot at it. I have the experience, the financial backing thanks to Amy’s father, and the political skill.”
Dent had never run for anything in his life. With every breath, he disliked Dillard more and more. And until a few moments ago, he hadn’t thought that possible. “If I lost to you, I’d still have Amy.” He plucked his gun belt off the back of his chair and started strapping it on, while enjoying the cold, hard expression on Dillard’s face. Dent had to hold back a chuckle. “I guess I’ll see you around then.” He grabbed his hat off the rack and headed out to do his patrols.
Mail-Order Deception
Intrepid reporter Ellie Blair gets an undercover assignment as a mail-order bride and heads off to Wyoming where she discovers her potential groom isn’t what he appears to be, either.
Matthew 16:26
For what is a man profited,
if he shall gain the whole world,
and lose his own soul?
Or what shall a man give
in exchange for his soul?
1
Boston — June, 1890
“Mr. Taylor would like to see
you in his office.”
Ellie Blair absently shrugged off the tap on her shoulder and continued writing her story. Harvey Wiggins, the World Daily News’ fidgety, freckled-faced copyboy, cleared his throat nervously. “He said now, Miss Blair.”
The twelve men sitting at the long conference table working on their own stories all stopped their chattering to listen. Their stares made her uncomfortable, but, as always, she hid it. “Fine. Thank you, Harvey.”
The boy nodded and raced off. Ellie slowly laid her pencil down, wishing she could answer the summons without every other reporter at the table gawking.
“Got another scoop in the works, Nellie—er, I mean, Ellie?” Jack Conway asked. A veteran reporter, he’d made it abundantly clear from the day Ellie was hired women belonged in the kitchen. To add insult to injury, he purposely mixed up her name with that other female reporter. Oh, how Ellie hated Nellie Bly and her showy publicity stunts.
“I don’t know, Jack,” she said rising. “But don’t worry. If it is, I’ll hand you the first paper off the press.”
A rumble of laughter circled the table.
“Maybe he’s gonna make you head of the Ladies Fashion department.” Bill Reese snickered and tugged at his loud, red-and-yellow plaid jacket. The reporter was famous not for his writing, but for his vulgar taste in suits. The other reporters joked he frightened small animals and children with those clothes.
Regardless, Ellie wasn’t in the mood today to tolerate these men or their ridiculous insults. “Well, if he does, Bill,” she walked past him slowly, “I’ll have you moved over. Seeing as how the style section doesn’t need good reporters—just hacks—you’ll fit right in.”
Laughter followed Ellie as she strode across the newsroom. Her smug satisfaction, though, quickly gave way to a twinge of guilt over her comments. But, Lord, they never let up. I can’t do anything right because I’m a woman. If they can sling insults, so can I.
The Brides of Evergreen Box Set Page 27
