One Day, My Prince, page 15
“I can’t make mistakes,” she blubbered. “I’m in charge of everything now, and if I make a mistake they’ll take my sisters away.”
Joe reached up, grabbed Alice’s wrist, and with a gentle tug he pulled her onto his knee. Alice was startled, but after a moment settled comfortably in his lap.
“You’re a kid,” he grumbled. “You’re supposed to make mistakes.”
Alice was trying so hard not to cry, holding back, breathing abnormally. Her entire body was tense.
“Go ahead and cry,” Joe said so softly Sarah almost couldn’t hear him. “You’re entitled.”
Alice laid her head on his shoulder and sobbed, just once. “I want my mother,” she said softly.
“I know,” Joe whispered, cutting his eyes up to Sarah. He looked so lost, so agonized, that she could only love him more. And that wasn’t good.
“I can’t do this alone,” Alice sobbed. “I want my mother!”
“You don’t have to do anything alone,” Joe said softly. “Sarah’s here, and … and I’m here.”
For now, Sarah thought.
Joe let Alice cry; for her mother, for her unwanted responsibilities, for her mistakes. He laid a hand on her back, patted it a few times, then began to rock.
Sarah had never been one for tears. As a child she hadn’t cried much, and when she had given in to tears she’d been alone. Always. No one had ever comforted her. If her lip so much as trembled in front of her father, he’d tell her to buck up and act like a Prince. Her mother always did her best to avoid any unpleasantness, disappearing quickly if her only child ever looked as if she might shed a tear.
No one had ever held her, and rocked her, and told her to wipe her tears on his shirt, the way Joe did with Alice. No one had ever told her that she was allowed to make mistakes.
As Alice’s sobbing lessened, Joe’s eyes found Sarah again. He said he didn’t want a family, didn’t want kids or a home or roots of any kind. But he was better at this family business than she was. He knew how to comfort a distraught child, when to scold and when to hug.
Since he wasn’t going to be here much longer, she would have to learn.
Alice finally regained her composure and headed up the stairs to bed. All was quiet above stairs, so the other girls were already asleep or well on their way.
Joe looked a little bewildered, sitting there in the rocking chair with a teardrop-dampened shoulder. He seemed a little lost. They still had no real answers, no solution to this new problem.
Yes, she wished she only liked him, that she didn’t love him at all. If she simply liked him, she’d kiss away the bewildered look and take him to bed, and together they would forget this horrible day and the argument they’d had last night. But she loved him more every time he looked at her, every time he touched her, and that meant his leaving would only hurt more. She loved him, and she couldn’t make him love her back.
So when she went to bed she fastened the latch Joe had put on their bedroom door and crawled into bed alone.
Deacon loved the sound and smells of a saloon and the taste of good whiskey. Together, they usually held the power to soothe him after the worst, longest of days. But not tonight.
“Don’t you want to buy me a drink, you good-looking thang, you?”
He looked up into the face of the woman who placed herself in his lap. As his eyes met hers she smiled, revealing a gap where one of her front teeth should’ve been.
“Uh, no,” he said, giving her a gentle shove to force her off his lap. She did move, reluctantly, but was back a moment later, snaking her arms around his neck to secure her position. “Maybe you’ve got other things on your mind,” she said suggestively, straddling him lewdly.
It was a fact that he did have other things on his mind, but none of them had anything to do with this saloon gal; who was, with the exception of the missing tooth, a nice-looking woman.
“I’m looking for a lady,” he said. Dammit, he’d asked everyone else in this godforsaken place, the second town he’d stopped at in his search. He’d stopped at every ranch and farm in between, too, zig-zagging his way across the land.
She ground against him. “You got one right here, handsome. And you look to me like a man who knows how to handle a lady, if you know what I mean.”
He was tempted to toss her onto the floor, but maybe that would have to wait until after he’d gotten an answer to his questions. “Lovely as you are, I’m looking for a specific lady. Her name’s Rosie, and she has pale hair and blue eyes, and she wouldn’t have been here more than a couple of weeks.”
The gal’s smile faded. She did look a lot prettier with her lips together. “Haven’t seen her.”
Deacon reached past the woman to grab his whiskey, downed it in one swallow, then gently disengaged her arms from around his neck and shoved her from his lap. Again. “I gotta get moving.”
There was just one town left of the original three he’d decided to search: Jacob’s Crossing. And after that … after that he wouldn’t know where to look. The thought that Rosie might not be there either gave him an unpleasant and unexpected chill. If she wasn’t there, where would he look next? How would he ever find her?
He shook off the chill. He would find her, dammit. He had to. And when he did … when he did … Dammit, Rosie had no idea what she’d put him through, how she’d tortured him. One part of him wanted to make her pay dearly for hurting him this way, but another part knew he’d be so glad to see her he’d probably kiss the ground at her feet.
And after that, maybe he’d ask her to marry him. He’d never thought much of the idea of legally tying himself down to one woman, but it was a sacrifice he might be willing to make to keep Rosie in once place.
Deacon shuddered as he came to his senses. Married! Hellfire, he wasn’t ever getting married. Still, maybe Rosie wouldn’t mind being his woman, exclusive-like. Maybe she’d let him put her up in a little house somewhere and when he came off the road she’d always be waiting for him. He kinda liked that idea.
He smiled as he rode toward Jacob’s Crossing. His woman. Rosie would like that, he was certain of it. And she’d be so happy when he asked her she’d forget all about the Joe White incident.
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Chapter Sixteen
Since Joe hadn’t been to this part of Texas before, he wasn’t worried that he might have even a passing acquaintance with the judge he and Sarah were set to appear before. Still, he was nervous as they approached the saloon, which had been closed and converted to a staid courtroom for the afternoon.
His nervousness had nothing to do with the fact that Sarah had taken to locking him out of their bedroom at night. That she fastened the latch he’d installed against him every night. That he’d been sleeping on the floor in the parlor or in the barn for the past three nights. He’d slept in worse places.
This new predicament should make it easier for him to walk away when this chore was done, to load up his saddlebags and head back to Silver Creek with no regrets. No reservations.
“Hold my hand. Poppy,” Glory said, skipping forward and taking his hand before he had a chance to respond. She tucked her little fingers in the palm of his hand and hurried to keep up with his pace. He shortened his stride to accommodate her.
“Me, too,” Faith said, scurrying forward to take his free hand. “I’m a little nervous,” she said. “I’ve never seen a judge before.”
“Judges are just regular people, like you and me,” Joe said calmly. Some were good, some bad, some power-hungry. Better not to divulge that bit of information to a child. “We have nothing to worry about.”
Evie decided to take Sarah’s hand, and as she did Joe glanced in that direction. Sarah was at her Miss Priss best today, in a severe gray gown and a prim hairstyle. Looking at her he could hardly believe this was the same fiery woman who’d shared his bed for days, who’d whispered about learning to shoot and walking in the rain, who’d wrapped her legs around him and cried out in the dark.
Dangerous direction for his thoughts to be taking, he decided, glancing over his shoulder. The four older girls trailed behind, silent and unsmiling and as worried as Faith professed to be.
They pushed through the batwing doors and filed into the back row. There were just seven seats in the row, so Glory climbed into his lap and Faith sat on Alice’s knee. The judge was seated at the front of the room, at a small desk that had been placed there for him to preside over. His was the only chair in the room that was not hard and wobbling. Someone had moved a wide leather chair into the closed saloon for court day.
The justice, Judge Wilkins, according to the placard that had been placed before the large man, dominated the room with his size and his booming voice. Gray-haired, with a well tended mustache and gold-rimmed spectacles, he was fit for a man of his apparent years.
As Judge Wilkins and the sheriff debated the fate of a petty thief, Sarah leaned close to Joe and whispered, “See the lady two rows up and to your left? The fair-haired woman in the dark plum gown.”
Joe easily found the woman, and just as he laid his eyes on her she turned her head. When she saw Joe watching her, she quickly returned her gaze to the judge.
“That’s Felicity Halberg, the woman who’d wanted to adopt Glory.”
Joe was a little surprised. The woman was younger than he’d expected and looked perfectly normal, if a bit tired. He’d expected a monster, he supposed, an evil witch. But Felicity Halberg, who now kept her spine rigid and her eyes straight ahead, appeared to be just an average, nice-looking if not spectacular, woman.
When the Shorter family was called forward, Faith bit her lower lip and moaned low in her throat, and Glory clutched at Joe’s shirt. Rather than fighting, Joe lifted Glory as he stood, holding her in his arms as they made their way from the back row, past Mrs. Halberg and all the others, to the front of the saloon. Glory encircled his neck with her thin arms and held on tight.
“It’s all right,” he whispered.
“I don’t want to go away,” she whispered back.
Her words crept under his skin, made their way inside him and found a home. Something in his heart clutched and released. These girls had lost enough. They didn’t need to lose one another.
Judge Wilkins studied the single sheet of paper before him. “What are these people doing here?” he asked grumpily, casting his eyes to the front row where Sheriff Potter and Mayor Larry sat side by side.
“Your honor,” the mayor said dramatically, coming to his feet with an awkward stagger. “The situation is not as wholesome and typical as it seems at first glance. Two months ago the mother of these children passed away. At that time everyone believed the father to be long deceased, and the town banded together and did its best to make proper arrangements for the girls. Before those arrangements could be implemented this … this stranger came to town claiming to be Joseph Shorter. He then married this … this hussy and—”
Joe set Glory on her feet and turned threateningly toward Mayor Larry.
“Mr. Shorter,” Judge Wilkins said calmly and sternly. “While I understand your natural response to the mayor’s unfortunate words, I must warn you. I allow no violence in my courtroom. Not even if it’s well-deserved,” he added in a lower voice.
Joe stopped short. Oh, he’d dearly love to put his fist through Larry’s red, puffy face. Glory tugged at his pants leg, and when he looked down she offered her arms up to him. He lifted her up into her place, and together, with Sarah and the other Shorter sisters standing around him, they faced the judge.
“The town’s arrangements,” Joe seethed, “included splitting my girls up, putting the older kids to work in inappropriate situations, and sending two of them to an orphanage hundreds of miles away. They were going to hand Glory over to…” He looked into the wide green eyes so near his own. How much did Glory know? Probably more than she should. He glanced briefly to Felicity Halberg, seated in the third row with her eyes wide and desperate, leaning forward expectantly.
Joe returned his attention to the judge. “They were going to hand Glory over to strangers. I arrived just in time—”
“Your honor, I have inquiries as to this man’s identity that are pending. If we can just wait until your next visit to—”
“Mr. Shorter,” Judge Wilkins interrupted Larry with little patience. “Are you these girls’ father?”
He was lying in a courtroom. If Marshal Webb ever found out … “Yes, your honor, I am.”
“And this lady is your new wife, I take it,” the judge added.
“Yes, sir, she is.”
“But your honor—” Larry began.
The judge silenced him with a frigid glance. “I really see no reason for the court to get involved. But just to ease the mayor’s mind, is there anyone here who can vouch for your identity?”
“I can,” Alice said quickly, her voice trembling slightly.
The judge gave in to a small smile. “Anyone besides his children.”
Joe held his breath. Dammit, this should be easy. The judge should look at Sarah and know she would provide the best possible home. What else could they do to prove it?
A sweet, soft voice came from the back of the saloon. “I can vouch for Cousin Joe.”
Joe, along with Sarah and all the children, turned to watch Rosie walk down the aisle toward the desk. Ah, she might change her dress and her hairstyle and her profession, but the walk with the gentle sway of her hips still said woman. All woman. The Shorter family parted to let Rosie come to the front of the crowd. With a smile, she faced the judge fearlessly.
It was clear to Joe, if not to everyone, that Wilkins knew Rosie. The flicker of recognition, the friendly smile, came and went quickly.
“This is my Cousin Joseph Shorter, your honor. I haven’t seen him in years, it’s true, but I can certainly attest to his identity.” For one who never lied, she spoke this one quite easily.
When Rosie smiled the judge actually blushed. His cheeks turned pink and a spot of perspiration broke out on his forehead. Yep. He knew her. And Honest Rosie’s word couldn’t hurt.
“Mayor Drake,” Judge Wilkins said testily. “Don’t waste my time again with this case. Leave this family alone.”
“But your honor—” Larry began.
“And that’s an order!” Wilkins bellowed.
It was all over in a matter of minutes. Long, tense minutes. Joe was glad to usher the girls and Sarah out of the saloon and into the sunlight.
It’s over, Joe thought as he placed Glory on her feet so she could jump up and down and squeal with her sisters. Sarah is here, and the judge is satisfied, and no one will try to split the sisters up again. His job here was finally over.
He backed away and watched the sisters hug and squeal and twirl. They were so happy. So relieved. Evie and Dory tugged at Sarah’s skirts, and she gave them a soft smile as she laid her hands on their shoulders. Yeah, they didn’t need him. He’d served his purpose and now it was time to move on.
Sarah lifted her eyes to look at him and her smile faded. Hell, it was past time. He had work to do, people to find, bad men to arrest. He shouldn’t even be thinking of staying for a few more days, a few more weeks. Indefinitely. He sure as hell shouldn’t be thinking of heading home to rip that damn lock off the bedroom door.
“Mrs. Shorter,” a wavering voice called.
Sarah spun around, instinctively reaching for Glory and pulling the youngest girl to her side. “Mrs. Halberg,” she said, resting her hand on Glory’s shoulder.
There were no greetings, no polite inquiries into each others’ health. The women just looked at one another for a moment, and then Mrs. Halberg’s gaze drifted down to linger lovingly on Glory.
“I’m happy for you all,” Mrs. Halberg said softly. “I just wanted to tell you that. If things had come about differently, we would have been more than happy to—”
“Thank you,” Sarah interrupted crisply, confirming Joe’s suspicion that Glory had no idea what her fate might have been.
Mrs. Halberg raised her eyes and smiled. It wasn’t a strong bright smile like Sarah’s could be, but a touch of happiness flickered there. Just a touch. “I’m going to have another baby,” she said softly.
“Oh,” Sarah said, obviously surprised. “How wonderful for you.”
The smile widened almost imperceptibly. Yes, there was the beginning of happiness there. “Jake and I, we didn’t think we’d ever have another. We’ve wanted one for so long. I’d given up hope.” Her smile wavered again. “I just wanted to let you know that I am happy for you. And Jake said if you ever want to sell the old Sheridan place, he wants first crack at it.”
“He’ll have it,” Sarah assured her.
As Felicity Halberg stepped away, movement over Sarah’s shoulder caught Joe’s eye. A woman in black and a younger man approached quickly and then brushed past. Sarah smiled and said, “Good morning, Mrs. Handy,” and the man nodded absently to Sarah and then to Joe.
The man passed so close to Joe he could’ve reached out and snagged him. The familiar image was practically burned into his mind; the hook nose, the long, curling, dark brown hair, the scar above the right eyebrow.
Tristan Butler wasn’t working in Silver Creek, he was right here in Jacob’s Crossing. And if Butler was here, Lockhart wasn’t far behind.
Sarah was relieved and heartbroken at the same time. The girls were safe and together; the judge had all but ordered Mayor Drake to leave them alone … and Joe would soon be leaving. He might even go tonight.
Something was certainly on his mind. While the girls laughed and celebrated and dug hungrily into their supper, Joe remained silent. Perhaps he was still wondering how to tell the younger girls that he wasn’t their father and that he wasn’t going to stay.
Together they made short work of cleaning up after supper. Alice and Clara and Sarah whirled through the kitchen, while Becky and Dory got the little ones ready for bed. With the chores done, they all went to bed happy and content, together and safe. Watching Alice, the last of them to go, climb the stairs, Sarah was assured that this moment and all the moments to come were worth any sacrifice she had to make.
