“Thanks, but I’m not really hungry,” Hannah said.
Florence set the tray on the table between the two rocking chairs that sat on the porch. She sat down in the chair beside the one Hannah was gently rocking. “You can’t go on like this, Hannah.”
Hannah gazed out over the fields. She hated that her sister was concerned about her, but she couldn’t shake the sadness that seemed to have infected every part of her. She plastered a bright smile on her face. “I’m fine. Really.”
“You shouldn’t have sent Kirby away,” Florence said.
Hannah shifted to face her sister. It had taken her three days to finally admit to Florence that she’d asked Kirby to leave and that he was off somewhere tracking down a killer. “I had to,” she replied. “You know that.”
“Because you’re scared you’ll end up like Mama.”
Hannah nodded. “I can’t spend my days afraid that he won’t come home like Mama did.”
“You’re forgetting one thing, Hannah.” Florence reached out and clasped Hannah’s hand. “You’re not Mama. You’re stronger than she was.”
“No—”
“Yes!” Florence interrupted. “You are. You weren’t born when Papa became sheriff. I was, and I remember Mama before he took the job. She was the same even then. She’d burst into tears if he left the house for more than a few minutes. She was terrified to be alone. When he was offered the job as sheriff, she threatened to leave him. I was supposed to be sleeping, but I heard them arguing so I crept out of bed and hid at the top of the stairs. I watched through the railings.”
Hannah was stunned. She’d never known about any of this. “But she didn’t leave.”
“No, she didn’t.” Florence picked up the glass of milk, offered it to Hannah, then took a long drink when Hannah shook her head. “She told him then that she’d never loved him, that the only reason she’d married him was because she wanted security and someone to look after her. That if he wasn’t going to be there to provide it, she’d leave.”
“I can’t believe—”
“It’s true,” Florence continued. “He told her he was taking the job whether she liked it or not. I remember watching him walk over to the door and open it. It was winter, and the frigid air swept up the stairs. I was so cold, but I couldn’t move. I was so afraid that Mama was going to leave me.”
“What happened then?” Hannah asked, absently picking up a cookie and nibbling on it.
“He told her she was free to go, but that she’d be leaving alone. She wouldn’t be taking me with her.”
“So she stayed because of you.”
Florence let out a laugh tinged with bitterness. “I wish that were true, but I don’t think so. She stayed because her threat didn’t work, and if she’d left, she wouldn’t have any security at all. She couldn’t look after herself.”
“I had no idea …”
“Mama never loved Papa, even though after that, they didn’t argue so much.”
Memories washed over Hannah that now made perfect sense.
“Then how did I—?”
Florence let out a short chuckle. “I guess they tried to get along – once.”
“When Papa became sheriff, her worry wasn’t for his safety, but that if something happened to him, she’d be alone again. Nothing else.”
Hannah got up and moved to the railing, looking out over the fields surrounding the house.
“You’re not Mama,” Florence said behind her. “You’ll worry about Kirby when he’s out doing his job, but that won’t be any different than what you’re doing now. There’s one difference, though.”
Hannah spun around to face her sister. “What’s that?”
“Right now, you’ll worry about him every minute of every day because you don’t know where he is or what he’s doing. If you were with him, there would be times when he was home with you that you wouldn’t have to worry.”
Hannah hadn’t thought of it that way. It was true that worry and fear had eaten at her every waking moment since he’d ridden off. Even her sleep was fitful, waking every few minutes, her heart pounding.
She’d made a huge mistake. Having him with her part of the time was better than not having him at all. Yes, she’d worry when she was alone, but when they were together … she’d have joy and happiness instead of the sadness and misery she was living with now.
Reaching down, she grabbed her sister’s hands and pulled her to her feet. She threw her arms around her and hugged her tightly. “Thank you for telling me about Mama. I wish I’d known before—”
“There was no reason to mention it while Mama was alive. I didn’t want you to resent her when she needed you so badly.”
“I understand,” Hannah said.
Florence patted Hannah’s hand, then picked up the tray. “I hope that makes you feel a little better,” she said as she opened the door and went inside, leaving Hannah nibbling on a cookie and thinking about what she’d just learned.
And what she was going to do about it.
“Matheson!”
Kirby turned from the wanted posters he was nailing to the wall behind his desk. His stomach clenched at the tone in the voice coming from outside the office. He’d heard that tone before, right before some gunslinger or another called him out.
This time, though, something in him had changed. He wasn’t a coward. He’d faced down men over the years when the odds were stacked against him surviving without giving it much thought.
But that was before he met Hannah. Now, he had something to live for. Someone to live for, even if she had sent him away. Once he took care of Owen Cooper, he’d go back to the Circle J, and this time he wouldn’t leave until she agreed to leave with him.
“Matheson!” the voice called out again. “You too yella to come out here and face me like a man?”
Kirby sighed, took his hat off the hook by the door, adjusted his gunbelt and stepped outside.
He squinted into the afternoon sun, pausing on the boardwalk until his eyes got accustomed to the blazing sunlight.
He could die today, he realized. He could die without ever seeing Hannah again, without feeling her touch, seeing her smile.
Owen Cooper stood in the middle of the street, his legs braced, his hand on the six-shooter on his hip. His hat shaded his face, to Kirby couldn’t see into his eyes, but he didn’t need to. He knew what he’d see there, a fire for revenge. And hatred.
How many more times was Kirby going to have deal with thieves and murderers before he took a bullet that would end his life? Until he met Hannah, he didn’t really think about dying. Now …
“’Bout time you came out to face me,” Owen called out.
“Are you here to give yourself up, Cooper?”
Owen laughed, a throaty sound. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Marshal?”
“It would save your life,” Kirby told him.
Owen took off his hat and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, then put his hat back on. “My life ain’t worth much,” he said. “Not with Jubel gone and Abel gonna hang. All because of you.”
“You and your brothers brought it on yourself.”
Owen laughed again. “Maybe you’re right, but either way, I gotta kill you. An eye for an eye, the Bible says.”
A tiny movement, and Kirby knew Owen was reaching for his gun.
Kirby drew his Colt and fired.
A moment later, Owen lay on the ground.
Two men hurried toward Owen. “He’s dead,” one called a few seconds later.
Hannah dismounted and looped Dixie’s reins around the hitching post in front of the livery stable in Cedar Valley. A tall bald man came forward when she went inside. “Afternoon, ma’am,” he said with a slight Scottish burr in his voice. “What can I do for you?”
“My horse needs feed and water and a stall for the night if you have one,” she replied. “And can you tell me where I can find the marshal?”
“Right now, I expect he’s at the saloon getting h
imself drunk.”
Drunk? Hannah hadn’t even considered the possibility that Kirby was a man who spent his evenings in a saloon.
As if the man could read Hannah’s mind, he added, “Marshal don’t drink hardly ever, but when he has to defend himself with his gun, it does somethin’ to him and he gets himself drunker than a skunk. Might not be that far gone yet, though, if you hurry on over there.”
“Where might the saloon be?”
The blacksmith approached her. “There’s three saloons in town, but you can likely find him at the Silver Dollar.”
“Thank you,” Hannah said, then hurried toward a two-story building about half way down the street. Three scantily clad women lounged on the balcony, calling out to cowboys as they passed.
As Hannah neared the batwing doors, piano music drifted toward her. “You looking for a job, honey?” one of the women called to her.
She looked up, her face flaming. “No.” Then she spun around and pushed the saloon doors open and stepped inside.
Hannah had never seen the inside of a saloon. A long bar stretched the entire length of the saloon. Behind the bar, shelves held bottles of various sizes and shapes. A painting of a naked woman lying on a settee hung on the wall. She felt a flush of embarrassment creeping into her cheeks.
Several tables were spaced haphazardly throughout the large room. Men sat at some of the tables, and she noticed a group of men playing cards. A cloud of smoke hung in the air.
Piano music stopped. Voices faded.
As her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light inside, she saw Kirby sitting alone at a table near the back of the saloon.
He glanced up, his eyes widening when he saw her standing in the doorway.
Hannah’s heart flipped in her chest. He looked so … Forlorn was the only word she could think of to describe the expression in his eyes. And sad.
Ignoring the men staring at her, she held her head high and marched toward Kirby’s table. He stood, but there was smile, no words of greeting. “What are you doing in here?”
How could she explain her change of heart? “I … we need to talk.”
His voice was emotionless when he responded. “I don’t see as we have anything to talk about,” he said. “You made yourself pretty clear the other day.”
“About that—”
“Not right now.”
Had she made a mistake when she’d decided to go to him, to tell him she’d been wrong, that she wanted to spend her life with him? He certainly didn’t seem pleased to see her. “Why not?” she asked.
“Because I don’t feel much like talking.”
It had taken a lot of soul-searching since the talk she’d had with Florence. She’d been willing to give up the man she loved because she was afraid she might lose him one day. But by sending him away, she’d lost him anyway. She’d given up love, and happiness, and a family of her own. She’d given up the days and months and years she could have had with him because of something that might happen.
But what if it didn’t? What if she didn’t lose him?
When she’d realized how wrong she’d been, the decision had been easy.
And now, she was here. She’d come this far, and she wasn’t going anywhere until she told him how she felt. If he wasn’t interested, then she’d have to live with her mistake.
She planted herself in a chair at his table and set her reticule on the scarred wooden surface.
“You want something?” the bartender called to her.
Hannah was thirsty after her ride, but she had no idea what was available to drink in a saloon other than beer and whisky. “Do you have coffee?” she asked.
He nodded, and Hannah turned her attention back to Kirby.
“You should go,” he said, staring at the amber liquid in the glass he had wrapped in his hands.
“I’m not leaving until you listen to what I have to say.”
“Could be a while,” he commented.
“I’ll wait.”
Soon, the other customers lost interest in her. The conversations resumed, and the tinny piano music started up again.
Hannah had consumed three cups of coffee before Kirby finally spoke. “Come on,” he said. “We sure as hell can’t talk in here.”
She got up. Kirby’s hand cupped her elbow and ushered her outside.
Her eyes stung from the bright sunlight as he led her down the street to his office and stepped aside for her to enter.
He closed the door behind them and turned to face her. “What is it, Hannah? I’m in no mood—”
“I heard about what happened,” she said softly.
“It was Owen Cooper,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about him anymore.”
Hannah was surprised at the relief that washed over her. She hadn’t admitted – even to herself – how terrified she’d been. “I confess I’m glad the threat is gone, but I’m sorry it had to end that way.”
“It usually does,” he muttered. He strode across the office and tore the wanted poster off the wall behind his desk.“Why are you here?”
“Because … because I was wrong.”
His brows arched. “About what?”
“I was wrong to send you away,” she said quietly.
“What?”
She repeated herself, louder this time. “I swore I’d never fall in love with a lawman, but it looks like I did anyway.”
“You did?”
She nodded, smiling softly.
“What about your mother?”
“I was wrong about that, too,” she replied. “I’ll tell you about it another time. All I’ll say now is that I’m not my mother. I know that now. So, do you still want to marry me?”
The clock on the wall ticked, filling the silence, echoing through the office as she waited for his answer. Her breath caught. Was he going to turn her away?
Finally, a grin spread across his face. “I sure do.”
The air stilled. Her heart exploded with happiness. She closed the gap between them, tears of joy filling her eyes. She tried to blink them back, but gave up, smiling as they streamed down her face.
He pulled her into his arms, holding her so tightly she could feel his heart beating against her chest. Holding her as if he never wanted to let her go.
“We haven’t known each other long,” he whispered into her hair, “and I don’t like the idea of a long engagement, but whenever you’re ready … I most definitely do want to marry you.”
Her heart was so full and her throat so tight with emotion it was hard to speak. While she’d hoped and prayed that he’d still want her, after refusing his proposal, a tiny part of her thought he might send her away.
Her voice trembled. “I don’t believe in long engagements either.”
He kissed her then, until they were both gasping for breath when he finally released her.
“I never expected to fall in love with a lawman, but I never expected to meet a man like you,” she said, “and while I’ll always worry when we’re apart, I know you’ll try to come home to me. That’s all I can ask for.”
“You know I’ll do my best.”
For a long time, they kissed, held each other, and whispered words of love to each other.
“I don’t care where we get married, either here in Cedar Valley or in Rocky Ridge, as long as it’s soon.”
She looked up at him, at the intensity in his eyes, the way his hair tumbled down his forehead, and the smile on his lips She’d remember this moment forever. “The sooner the better.”
Epilogue
Two months later
“I now pronounce you husband a wife.”
The preacher grinned at Hannah and Kirby. “You may kiss the bride,” he said. Kirby cradled Hannah’s face and lowered his lips to hers.
The kiss was soft and sweet, and over far too quickly, in Hannah’s opinion. The crowd packed into the tiny church cheered as Hannah and Kirby made their way outside.
Although the wedding was being held in Rocky Ridge, it a
ppeared that every resident in Cedar Valley had made the trip to see their marshal get married.
Congratulations and well wishes surrounded them, but in time, the guests wandered off to the hotel where a huge wedding feast was waiting.
“Don’t you two take too long to get to the hotel so we can get this party started,” Buck ordered. “I just got my eye on the woman I’m going to marry and I need to snatch her up before somebody else gets a notion to go after her.”
Kirby laughed. “You go ahead, Buck. I have something to take care of first, but we’ll be there soon.”
Hannah was intrigued. What could he possibly have to do that was more important than their wedding feast?
“Come on.” Kirby took her hand and helped her into the buggy waiting in front of the church. He climbed in beside her and flicked the reins, guiding the horse away from town toward the river.
“Where are we going?” she asked finally. “We have guests waiting for us.”
“I’ll stop soon,” he replied. “I want you all to myself for a few minutes.”
She shifted until her thigh was resting against his and tucked her hand beneath his elbow. Resting her head on his shoulder, she smiled. “That’s a wonderful idea.”
“I’m full of wonderful ideas,” he said, reining in the horse and giving her a wide grin. “And surprises.”
She straightened as he reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope that had been opened and handed it to her.
“What’s this?” She took the envelope and plucked out a single sheet of paper. Her eyes widened when she read the words on the page. She hadn’t imagined her wedding day could get any better, but she’d been wrong.
“You really resigned?” She couldn’t prevent the shock in her voice. “But—”
“I’d been thinking about it for a while, even before I met you. When Owen Cooper showed up, I knew then it was time. I almost got myself killed because of you.”
“What? How—?”
“I was so busy thinking about maybe never seeing you again that I wasn’t paying attention.”
Hannah’s chest constricted at the thought he might have died because of her. “What were you thinking about?”
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