One Day, My Prince, page 26
The capture of Lockhart was a feather in any lawman’s cap, and Joe was no exception. Charlie Lockhart, alias Charlotte Wylie Butler Lockhart Handy, made him an instant legend. There were already stories about Lockhart’s capture, most of them false, hitting the Eastern newspapers. Some of them had almost gotten the story right.
With her only child dead, Lottie had confessed to everything; including shooting her third husband, Sheriff Frank Handy, when he found out who she really was. No wonder so many lawmen had disappeared in the search for Lockhart! They’d probably gone straight to the sheriff, and then, within hours perhaps, they were dead.
Joe should’ve spent the last month floating on a cloud, but instead he’d felt like something on the bottom of a farmer’s shoe. He didn’t sleep well, he snapped at the folks who congratulated him on his victory, and everything he ate and drank tasted like … something from the bottom of a farmer’s shoe.
The only respite had been the two days at Tess’s home in Tennessee. He finally allowed himself to see that she truly was happy now. She wasn’t sixteen anymore, her dreams had changed, but she was happy. That’s all he wanted for her.
She’d named her fourth child Joseph, and everyone called him Joey. The poor kid looked just like his uncle.
Joe pulled the reins and brought Snowdrop to a halt as soon as the Shorter house came into view. This was one of the most foolish things he’d ever done. He was surely wasting his time. Sarah and the girls probably already had gone to New York. Maybe the divorce wasn’t yet final, though, since Towerson had said it would take months.
Towerson had made it clear that he was to stay away from Sarah. They couldn’t claim desertion if he kept coming around, the lawyer had pointed out as Joe had left the house for the last time.
Too bad, he thought, as he kicked Snowdrop into a trot. Maybe he didn’t want a goddamn divorce. Maybe, once her head had cleared, Sarah had decided she didn’t want one either. There was only one way to find out.
Sarah was in the kitchen when Dory came running into the house, slamming the door behind her. “Someone’s coming!” she screamed.
Sarah was trying to decide if she should slip the derringer into her skirt pocket, just in case, when Dory reached her and grabbed onto her skirt. “On a white horse,” she added dramatically. Within a minute all the girls were gathered around, all of them asking questions and some of them jumping up and down.
With great effort, Sarah remained calm. “I’m sure your Poppy doesn’t have the only white horse in all of Texas. Clara, you take over here, and the rest of you…” Oh, what if it was Joe? “Wait here and help her.”
“But Sarah…. “Faith whined.
“Please,” Sarah said softly, and with a smile. All the girls agreed.
He was still a good ways off when she stepped onto the porch, wiping her hands on her apron. When he was so close she could tell it was, indeed, Joe, she reached behind her to untie the apron and take it off. It was stained, after all. Not that she was worried about making a good impression.
She smoothed her hair, which was loose and beyond redemption at the moment, and wiped her sweaty palms on her calico skirt. By the time Joe was close enough so she could see his face, she stood on the steps. Waiting.
Somehow she would have to be strong. Joe could not come riding in and out of her life whenever it suited him! She would not pine and cry for a man who did not love her, waste away wondering where he was and what he was doing, as she had for the past month.
She shaded her eyes with her hand as he came closer. “What do you want?” she asked.
It was difficult to read his expression beneath the shadow of that black hat, but she could see very well that his lips hardened. “Well, hello to you, too.”
It was not exactly an auspicious start.
Joe dismounted and removed his hat, and Sarah lowered her hand. “Where are your folks?” he asked.
“They’ve been back in New York for three weeks now.”
“You didn’t go with them?”
She shook her head. “I decided to stay here.” She didn’t want him to think she’d been sitting around waiting for his return. “It’s best for the girls.”
He nodded his head. “I’m glad.”
“You are?”
He looked her straight in the eye, and her heart skipped a beat. “I kept thinking about what you said, about feeling like you were living in a box that got smaller and smaller everyday. I don’t want you to live like that, and I don’t want it for the girls, either.”
“You remember that?”
“I think I remember every word you ever said,” he whispered.
Like I love you? Sarah thought with a shudder. Surely he knew he’d just reminded her of every confession she’d ever made, of all those nights they’d whispered in the dark. He was going to try to charm his way back into her life and her bed, and then, when there was important work to be done, he’d disappear. For a month? A year?
“Why are you here?” she asked, lifting her chin and steeling her spine.
“I’m here for you, Miss Priss.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, solid as a rock on the outside, shuddering on the inside.
He smiled, blast him. “You need me, so here I am.”
In love with him or not, she was insulted. “I do not need you, Stumpy. I know it must pain you greatly to know that there’s a person in the world who doesn’t need you, but I’m afraid it’s true.”
He glanced up and around. “So you can run this place and raise seven kids all by yourself.”
“I won’t have to,” she said. “It seems my Aunt Mabel left me … some money. I’m building a private school in town, and in just a few months the girls and I will move there. I’m selling the farm to Jake Halberg, and he was quite generous, even though I don’t need the money.”
“A private school,” Joe muttered.
“Yes. I’ve already inquired as to teachers, and in less than a year the Elizabeth Shorter Academy for Girls will be in operation.”
His smile faded. “Sounds like an expensive operation.”
“My Aunt Mabel left me a lot of money.”
Joe shuffled his feet slightly, as if he was suddenly nervous. “And you’re going to blow it building a school.”
“The town needs to be rebuilt,” she said angrily. “This is my home now, and I can help. Rosie and Deacon were married last week, and they’re going to buy the hotel and fix it up.”
“They’re going to buy it? With what?”
“With money I loaned them.”
Joe spread his hands wide. His eyebrows shot up. “You loaned money to the man who had me bushwhacked?”
“I loaned money to the man who saved my life,” she corrected softly.
Joe shook his head slowly, no longer so confident. “Well, maybe you don’t need me to take care of you, but we did live together as man and wife, and if there’s a baby on the way—”
“There’s no baby,” she interrupted. “So you see, you’re off the hook. I really don’t need you. I have enough money for the girls and me to live well the rest of our lives. You didn’t leave me with any … extra responsibilities.” He looked almost angry at that. “You’re free, Joe White, free to do whatever you like and go wherever you like. Isn’t that what you wanted all along?”
“Maybe,” he muttered.
They stared at one another for a long moment. If she turned her back and walked away he’d likely ride off without another word and she’d never seen him again. She faced him bravely.
“So,” she said softly, “don’t stay because you think I need you. Don’t give up your dreams and your important work because you’ve convinced yourself that I can’t get along without you. Don’t sacrifice anything for me. If you’re going to stay, stay because … because…. “She took a deep breath. “Because you love me as much as I love you.”
Joe grinned as he walked slowly toward her. Her heart skipped a beat when he reached out and grabbed her, and when he kissed her … all of a sudden everything was all right again.
“You do need me,” he insisted when he pulled his mouth from hers. “Who else is going to dance with you in the moonlight, and keep you up all night, and make you laugh? Who else is going to ruffle your feathers, Miss Priss?”
“Only you, Stumpy,” she whispered with a smile.
“I love you, Sarah,” he whispered. “I wasn’t pretending when I said that, it wasn’t a part of any plan. I love you and I need you. Marry me.”
“We’re already married, remember?” she teased.
He shook his head. “I want to do it again. Right, this time. I want Joe White to marry Sarah Prince, and by God I want the whole town to watch their new sheriff take the woman he loves as his wife.”
She backed away a little bit. “Their what?”
“You’re looking at the new sheriff of Jacob’s Crossing, darlin’. I told you I was no farmer.” He kissed her again, quickly. “But it didn’t take me long to figure out that I couldn’t live away from you. So … I asked about Potter’s vacated job and I got it.”
“What if I hadn’t been here?” Sarah asked, horrified. “What if I’d returned to New York with my parents?”
“You think I couldn’t find New York if I had to? I hear it’s a big place, and I do have a little experience tracking people down.”
Sarah smiled and melted against his chest. “You would’ve come after me?”
“Yep.”
“I love you,” she whispered against his chest. “And you’re right, I need you, too. After you left, I had no one to talk to when I couldn’t sleep. No one to kiss until I felt lightheaded. My life is not an adventure without you.”
He let her go so quickly her head began to swim, rushing back to Snowdrop and opening a fat saddlebag. “Speaking of adventure,” he said. “When we get married, I want you to wear this.”
He whipped a long length of something red from the saddlebag, something that caught the sunlight and billowed in the wind. When he turned to face her he held the dress before him. The gown was shockingly red, and much lower cut than anything she owned.
Sarah grinned widely. “I can’t possibly wear that in public.”
He looked down, studying the gown carefully. “It’s a little wrinkled,” he said as he stepped forward, “but I’ll bet you can iron the wrinkles out in no time.”
“But it’s—”
“And if you don’t want to get married in it, the least you can do is wear it for me,” he said as he climbed the steps. “There’s going to be a full moon in a couple of days. We can dance right out there,” he said, nodding his head toward the barn.
“With no music?” she asked.
He grinned and tossed the gown over his shoulder as he reached out for her once again. “I’ll provide the music. There’s this bawdy song I want to teach you…”
“What are you up to, Joe White?” she whispered. “Are you trying to make all my dreams come true?”
“Each and every one,” he said seriously. He glanced over her shoulder, briefly. “I’d love to pick you up right this minute and carry you to the bed or the barn or a soft patch of grass, but there are seven little faces in the window, watching. I guess it’ll have to wait.” He kissed her, soft and deep and much too fleetingly. “I have a feeling finding time to be alone will be an adventure all its own for the next few years.”
“They love you, too,” she whispered with a smile.
Without taking his eyes from her face, he lifted his hand and waved the girls outside. They came, laughing and jumping, grappling at Joe’s legs and her skirt and the red dress. Seven different voices asked the same question, over and over; soft and loud, hopeful and excited.
“Are you going to stay?”
Joe got down on one knee and took Sarah’s hand in his. One by one, he took seven little hands and placed them on top of his own, until there was a pile of waiting hands before her.
“Marry me?” he whispered.
“You already asked.”
“You didn’t say yes.”
A symphony of soft voices urged her to accept.
“Yes,” she whispered. “A hundred times, yes.”
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Epilogue
Joe tried to shake off the nervousness as he walked down the aisle with a beautiful bride on his arm. Dammit, this never got any easier.
Who’d have ever thought that the little girl who’d nursed him back to health would defy convention and become a doctor herself? It had meant a long time away from home, years of study and training, but apparently Quincy had cared enough to wait.
“Sure you want to marry that pip-squeak, Doc?” he whispered as they approached the altar.
Alice didn’t look at him, but she did smile. “Absolutely, Poppy.”
He delivered his daughter to Quincy, squelching his usual paternal glare in deference to the occasion. When he sat beside Sarah, she took his hand in hers and squeezed lightly. There were already tears in her eyes.
He shook his head. His sentimental wife had bawled like a baby when Becky married that horse farmer, and again when Clara had married the new preacher—the man who was performing the ceremony for Alice and Quincy today. Maybe she wouldn’t make a spectacle of herself today. After all, Alice was twenty-six years old. It was about time she married and settled down … even if she was going to be the first lady doctor in these parts.
He looked over his shoulder to make sure the rest of the brood were behaving themselves. Dory was sitting, much too chummy, with the new headmaster of the boys’ school, that damned Englishman. Joe gave him the glare he usually reserved for Quincy, for good measure. Evie wisely sat alone, though he couldn’t help notice how she occasionally cast a quick glance across the aisle to where the rest of Quincy’s family, including his younger brother Zack, sat.
Faith and Glory quite properly had their eyes on the ceremony that had just begun. Joe smiled. He’d thought he’d be so glad to see them grow up, so relieved. He wasn’t. Faith and Glory were still his little girls, though likely not for much longer.
Hank, a typical nine-year-old boy, already was bored with the wedding. He poked seven-year-old Ian in the side, and then played innocent as the redhead turned about. Joe caught his eye and he settled right down. For now. Sarah said Hank was too much like his father … and the little rascal already had his eye on Rosie and Deacon’s oldest daughter, Millie. He pulled on her pigtails every chance he got.
Sarah and Rosie thought the two kids were adorable. Joe was distressed by the fact that one day, in the far off future, his eldest son might end up married to the daughter of the man who’d had him bushwhacked. What was the world coming to?
Jacob, barely five years old, already had fallen asleep at the end of the pew. His dark head rested easily against the hard, wooden arm.
They were all growing up so fast. He kinda missed having babies around. Who’d have ever thought….
Sarah tugged on his arm. “Pay attention,” she whispered. “For goodness’ sake, you’re as bad as Hank.”
He held her hand tightly, and leaned forward to see the tears in her eyes. “Don’t cry,” he whispered. “Quincy is a good enough kid.”
She looked at him like he was crazy. Well, living with a houseful of women and a passel of baby boys would do that to a man.
“I’m not crying because Alice is getting married,” she whispered softly. “Quincy is a wonderful man and they love one another very much.”
“So stop crying,” he ordered softly.
From across the aisle, Quincy’s mother delivered a pointed glare of her own.
“I’m not crying because Alice is getting married,” Sarah whispered. “I’m crying because Becky is going to have a baby.”
Joe felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. That damn horse farmer….
“And so is Clara,” Sarah added. Hanging onto his arm tightly.
Joe glared at the preacher.
Sarah held on even tighter. “And so am I.”
Joe rotated his head slowly to watch a single tear fall down Sarah’s cheek. Another baby? “We were careful….”
“Except that one time when it rained and we got caught in the stables. Remember?”
Remember? Brother, did he.
“I knew you would be angry,” she said softly. “We’ll talk about it later. Pay attention to the ceremony.”
Well, he had told her more than once that he’d be glad when he could have her alone more often. And they had decided together that seven girls and three boys was enough for any family. But like Sarah always said, life was an adventure.
He wiped the tear from her cheek and leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Angry? How could I possibly be angry? I love babies.” He moved in closer. “I love you.”
Her tears didn’t completely dry, but she did smile. God, he adored her smile.
And when the preacher told Quincy to kiss the bride, Sheriff White gave in to an improper impulse, taking Sarah’s face in his hands and leaning forward to kiss the woman who would always be his bride.
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Linda Jones, One Day, My Prince
