The Marshal Takes A Bride (24 page)

“But you’re
you
here,” Sarah argued. “People associate you with your family, and you’re known as that youngest Burnett boy. The one who runs this town. The one who keeps us safe and has cleaned up Fort Worth. The one who jokes and has fun. The friendliest of all the Burnett boys. You’re known for your generosity, outgoingness and good-natured spirit. You’re known for you. Not just your brothers.”

She turned away from him as if she had said too much.

Tucker frowned as he gazed at the road in front of him. Everything she said made sense, but he still had this itch to explore new country, see new things, that had never been resolved. When he had come home, he was only going to stay a few weeks, but then the death of his father and his job as marshal had extended his short visit into years. Now he had a chance to leave once again and experience this vast country.

“I’m not trying to stop you. Life should be spent doing the things you love, with the people you love,” she said with a wistful sigh, not looking at him.

“Is that what you’re doing, Sarah? Doing what you love? Spending time with the people you love?”

“I love my work,” she said softly.

“What about your time? Do you spend it with people—”

“Yes, I spend as much of my time as possible with Lucas and my grandfather,” she said, her voice catching at the end. Her face was blocked from his view.

She hadn’t mentioned Tucker. She hadn’t said that she enjoyed being with him, and he knew without question that he took pleasure from being with her. Most mornings he awoke with Sarah on his mind, and every night was spent dreaming of the feel of her in his arms.

Didn’t she like being with him?

But more importantly, he never wanted to cause her pain, to hurt her in some inexcusable way. And he had worried that somehow that was exactly what he had done. Hurt her. Did she really want marriage, and he had failed to see that their friendship could possibly be more?

Tucker cleared his throat. “Sarah, I do enjoy being with you.”

She turned and faced him, her blue eyes filled with pain, the wind whipping her blond curls around her face.

“Maybe that’s why we’ve remained friends for so many years, because we enjoy each other’s company,” she said, the words sounding wistful.

Tucker felt them reverberate inside of him. He enjoyed being with Sarah more than with any other person he had ever met.

“Sarah, I know I can be a selfish bastard sometimes, but I never meant to hurt you.”

She turned toward him, her eyes filled with tears. “In our culture it’s not often that men and women can be friends like we have all these years. I don’t understand why we’re still close. We certainly have tested the strengths of our friendship to the point of breaking, but it always seems to rebound. I know I was harsh with you on the trip out, but I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

She took a deep breath, glanced out at the edge of town that was quickly approaching. “But no matter how good we are as friends, it can never be anything more, never again.”

***

Several days passed, and though Tucker had been by, he hadn’t been in the best of moods. She knew he was busy trying to resolve the situation with Kid Lansky, and after their discussion on the way home, maybe it was for the best that he stayed away more.

For so long she had held hope that someday he would come to the realization that they were meant to be together. Though she knew it would never be easy, she would tell him about his son, and they would live together as man and wife. For so long she had dreamed that he would realize she loved him and that he would love her in return. But her aspirations were quickly dying.

Sooner or later she was going to have to give up on Tucker and pursue her own life. Soon she would leave Fort Worth, return to Tombstone and her own practice. And maybe that was for the best. Maybe it was time she put behind her all thoughts of a life with Tucker and the dream she had built of a family with Tucker and their son.

The bell above the door to the clinic tinkled and for a moment her pulse leaped. Since the day that Wo Chan had come into the doctor’s office unannounced, she had been nervous. She stepped from the examining room, determined to face whoever had just walked in the door, and was surprised to see Brad Riley, the man who had bid so high on her basket of food at the church auction.

“Hello,” he said, smiling shyly at her, the emerald green of his eyes twinkling. “I hurt my hand mending a fence the other day on my ranch and thought maybe you could take a look at it.”

She returned his smile, a pleasant feeling of awareness coming over her. “Sure, come back into the examining room where I can look at it in the light.”

“It’s not bad, but it’s irritating the fool out of me,” he said, as his boots echoed on the wooden floor of the front room.

He walked down the hall, and she followed him into a private exam room. “Sit down if you don’t mind on the stool there by the window.”

The tall, dark man sat down and held out his hand. “It’s barely more than a scratch.”

Sarah picked up his hand, the warm, rough texture surprising her. “You don’t want to get blood poisoning.”

“No, I don’t.” He paused nervously. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much at the church auction a couple of weeks ago. I’ve been meaning to come over and apologize for my behavior, but just haven’t been in town.”

She gazed at the splinter in his hand and reached for the small tongs that were good for getting finite pieces of debris from skin tissue. “No need to apologize. I was flattered.”

Taking the tongs, she started to pick at the sliver of wood with the pointed end. She tried to be gentle as she plucked at the wood chip.

Sarah finally managed to snag the irritating splinter. She held up the sliver of wood in the tongs. “Here is the problem. Let me pour some iodine over the wound and you should be good as new.”

“So how’s your son, Lucas? Has he recovered from his reaction to food that day?”

Sarah smiled at the mention of Lucas. “Thank you for asking. He’s doing fine. He’s completely recovered, and I don’t allow him anywhere near strawberries.’’

“He’s a cute boy. If I had a son who had food reactions like that, I’d be extremely careful about what he’s around.”

She gazed at Brad, noticing he appeared ill at ease. “Yes, I am. This is going to sting a bit.”

Tipping the bottle, she poured the iodine on his hand He flinched but never took his eyes off her.

“I was wondering, Doc, since you don’t appear to be upset with me over the basket bidding war, if you’d have dinner with me some night When you’re not busy.”

Sarah felt her cheeks flame. She was old enough not to react this way to his invitation, but still a flush spread across her cheeks. Slowly she turned her head and gave him a smile of encouragement “I’d like that very much.”

The man relaxed visibly before her eyes. “Great! How about tomorrow night? If you don’t already have plans.”

“Tomorrow night would be fine.”

“So it’ll be me, you and Lucas,” he responded “Unless you’d like to ask your grandfather to join us.” She had been bandaging the small wound on his hand She raised her eyes to his. “I was thinking more of just the two of us having dinner. My grandfather will take care of Lucas.”

He nodded “That would be really nice, but in case you wish to bring the two of them, it’s fine with me.”

“Thanks. I appreciate your being so thoughtful, but I’d like an evening without them,” she said.

“What time should I pick you up and where would you like to go?” he asked

Sarah felt a ripple of pleasure. The man was asking her what she wanted. He was secure enough in his own masculinity not to have to show his power by making all the plans himself.

“I’d like to go to the Merchant restaurant down on Main Street.”

“What time?”

“How about seven.”

“I’ll pick you up at the hotel.”

“Well, I think you’re all patched up,” she said, knowing that the hand hadn’t been bothering him near as much as he let on.

“If it turns red and puffy, soak it in warm salt water. But I think it’s going to be fine.”

“Oh, I think it will be just dandy,” the man said, gazing at her. “How much do I owe you?”

“A steak dinner,” she said.

He grinned. “Guaranteed.”

“I’ll see you then tomorrow night.”

“Promptly,” he said, picking up his hat that he had laid down on the small table in the room. He walked out of the examining room and out the door of the clinic.

Sarah smiled. Brad Riley was a nice man. Maybe he was just the man to show her that there was life after Tucker.

Tucker watched as Kid Lansky sat in the Trinity Saloon. He had followed him as much as time permitted these last few days, hoping to catch the gunfighter at something that he could throw him in jail for. But the man was wily, and so far he had been discreet in his dealings with Wo Chan.

The Chinaman ran an opium parlor and a whorehouse on the edge of the Acre. As long as the law wasn’t out there breaking up fights every night, the city council pretty much turned a blind eye to the establishment, regardless of how sadistic his trade was.

One slipup, though, and Tucker would have Wo Chan and Kid Lansky looking through bars.

Tucker sat on a stool watching the room from the bar, a drink in his hand as he surreptitiously observed the gunfighter.

“How you doing, Marshal?” Charlie, the bartender, asked. He had known Tucker since he was a kid.

Tucker turned on his seat. “Not too bad, Charlie. Looks like you’ve got a pretty good crowd tonight”

“Not bad. Business has been slow. Will be until the herds hit town.”

“Spring’s almost here, so it won’t be too much longer.”

“Hey, Marshal, rumors say you’re trying to shut down the Chinaman’s business. Is that true?”

“Rumors are just gossip. I’d love to shut him down, but the council has told me to leave him be.” Tucker took a swig of whiskey. “Drinking is one thing, but opium is against the law.”

“So who is this gunfighter the Chinaman hired?”

“Kid Lansky. He’s the tall guy sitting at that table playing poker.”

“Him? He’s been in here the last several nights.”

“Yes, I know.”

Tucker watched a billiards game from across the room and sipped his whiskey.

“So how’s your mother doing now that she’s got two of you boys married?” the man behind the bar asked.

Tucker frowned, set his glass down and poured from the bottle again. “She’s all right She’s pretty busy getting ready for the first grandchild.”

“Good thing for you, huh?” The man laughed.

“She’s leaving me alone, and that’s all I care about,” Tucker said.

The bartender smiled. “You know, several of us got together after the last wedding, and we’ve got a pool going on how much longer before your mother finds you a woman, Marshal.”

“What?” Tucker asked, shocked at the news. People were gambling on if and when his mother would manage to drag him to the altar?

“You want to bet against us? The one closest to the date of your wedding wins the money.”

“So what are my odds?” he asked, irritated.

“Not good, I’m afraid.”

Tucker cursed. “A man can’t even get a drink in this town without people pestering him about getting married. What happens if I never marry?”

“We’ve put a six-month time limit on it. If you’re not married in six months, then we donate the money to some charity.”

“Do I get to choose the charity?”

“Depends. Who do you want it to go to?” Charlie asked, wiping down the bar.

“To start a retired lawman’s association. Any man, who could do this job day after day, putting up with stuff like this, deserves to get some kind of reward.”

“If you don’t marry, maybe we should just give it to your mother.” The bartender laughed. “She’ll never rest until you settle down.”

“Don’t give her any more ideas,” Tucker insisted, thinking that this little joke had gone far enough.

The bartender looked out at the crowd and frowned. “You following that gunman, Marshal?”

“Like fur on a bear’s behind.”

“Well, you better drink up, because he’s heading toward the door.”

Tucker downed his drink and slid off the barstool. “Thanks, Charlie.”

“Anytime, Marshal.”

He pulled the brim of his hat down as he walked out the door of the Trinity Saloon.

***

Sarah dabbed a drop of lavender-scented water on her wrist, feeling nervous. What did she really know about this man named Brad, other than he was a rancher who had bid on her basket at the church social. He was handsome, and he seemed more of a gentleman than any man she had met recently. But that little bit of information meant nothing.

He was obviously attracted to her, but would dinner with Brad be any different from her previous engagements?

The sound of a knock echoed through her grandfather’s suite of rooms, and she knew he was here. He had insisted on escorting her to and from the restaurant where they would be having dinner, and she appreciated his thoughtfulness.

She heard her grandfather open the door and knew the moment for her to greet him had come. A brief thought of Tucker flashed through her mind, and she quickly blocked the memory of his laughing face and teasing brown eyes. The time had come for her to put him out of her thoughts and her life.

She pinched her cheeks, opened the door and stepped into the sitting room.

Brad Riley stood there in a western-cut suit, a bolo tie, and his hat in his hand, looking uneasy. He smiled at her as she walked into the room, relaxing a bit as she returned his smile.

“Good evening. You look mighty pretty tonight,” he said, his eyes glowing as he gazed at her.

“Thanks,” she replied. “You look very dashing yourself.”

The man blushed at her compliment before turning to her grandfather. “Are you sure you don’t mind watching Lucas. We can take the boy with us if it causes you any inconvenience.”

Sarah felt herself melting as he offered to take Lucas again with them to dinner. Of the men who had escorted her recently, he was the first to offer for Lucas to tag along, and she could feel her barriers melting.