Texas Lawman

Well, he thought, smiling as he looked down to where she sat, he’d come a long way. From “Sheriff” to “Brace” was quite a step for one day. “And I’d appreciate the effort on your part,” he told her.

“Aunt Sarah?” Stephen’s voice echoed through the hallway, and Sarah leaped from the window seat.

“I’m here,” she called out. “In the library, Stephen.” And then in a softer tone, “Are you all right?”

He skidded to a halt before the warmly lit room, and his eyes sought her out. “What’cha doin’?” he asked, and then stepped forward, almost hurling himself into her arms. “The kittens were hungry, Aunt Sarah, and their mama was busy washing them, so I shut the door of the shed and came inside. I woulda fed the tabby cat, but I didn’t know what the sheriff wanted her to have.”

“There’s food for her in the kitchen,” Brace offered. “We can wait till morning, or else I’ll go out and leave a dish of milk for her tonight.”

“I think she’s hungry,” Stephen said. “Washing all those babies is hard work.”

“It won’t be long before they can wash themselves,” Sarah said wisely. “But for now their mother is happy to do it. I do think she could use a dish of milk, though.” Her eyes cut to Brace, and he understood the silent query.

“Let’s go, Stephen. I’ll pour the milk and you can offer it to her. I’ll bet she likes you better than me, anyway.”

Stephen shook his head. “Naw. She just likes it because I was petting her and talking to her. She’s still your cat.” He reached for Brace’s hand, and his small fingers clutched at the longer, more capable digits he touched. “Come on, sir. I’ll help you with her. She’s not afraid of me.”

Brace smiled at the boy, relishing the feel of small fingers pressed against his palm. Children were trusting little souls. Too bad this one had found abuse in such unexpected places. Stephen should have been safe, secure in his father’s love. Instead he’d been used as a pawn by a man whose selfish passions had driven him to draw Sarah into his reach. He looked at her now, noting the possessive look, the loving tenderness in her eyes as she watched the boy. She was a staunch champion, this Sarah Murphy.

The house was settled down, the candles blown out, the lamps darkened. Brace stretched out in his bed, pulling the sheet from the bottom to better accommodate his length, and yawned widely as he considered the woman who slept across the hallway.

She’d escorted Stephen to the storage room he’d chosen, had carefully inspected the bits and pieces of Brace’s own childhood that had so caught Stephen’s interest, and then had settled on the side of the narrow bed to listen while the boy squeezed his eyes shut and folded his hands.

A long litany of words and phrases had followed, a petition to the Almighty, a bedtime prayer that seemed to be a regular item in Stephen’s life. But, for probably the first time, a new name was added to the list the boy recited as he named his family, one by one calling their names.

“And bless the sheriff,” he’d said solemnly. “Thank you for this nice room and the nice house he lives in, and for the food he let us eat for supper.”

Brace remembered the small, scrunched-up face, the smile that had been blinding in its brilliance as blue eyes opened and Stephen looked up at his aunt. “I think that’s everybody,” he’d said, and then reached his arms to hug her and lifted himself from the pillow to plant a loud kiss against her cheek. Sarah had blown out the candle and headed for the door before Stephen called out, his words not for Sarah, but for the man who watched from the hallway.

“Good night, sir.”

“Good night, Stephen.” He thought now he’d give a whole lot to claim the child as his own. It would be a pleasure to listen to the boy, to watch him at play and to know that he was a permanent fixture in his life. He should have married before this, perhaps had a child of his own to love and protect. And yet, as he’d told Sarah, there hadn’t been anyone, except for Faith Hudson. And she’d gone where her heart led her. He could not fault her for it, but his chest tightened a bit as he thought of the woman he’d loved.

Now another woman had come along. And if he was half as smart as his mama had always said he was, he’d snatch her up and make her a permanent part of his life. And how would Miss Sarah Murphy feel about that? His mouth twitched as he thought of her, remembering her trim figure, her long hair finally let loose at bedtime, when she’d bent low over Stephen, allowing its length to surround her face and then fall to her bosom as she sat up on the edge of the bed.

He’d give a whole lot to haul her into his own bed right now, he decided. But that wasn’t the route Sarah would be willing to take. Perhaps he could woo her, win her over gradually. And on that thought he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds coming from the room across the hall, where the object of his meandering thoughts was settling in for the night.

The door was quietly opened, and then the candle was extinguished as he heard her bedsprings give way beneath her slight weight. “Good night, Sarah,” he called softly, and was pleased by her answering words.

“Good night, Brace.” Then after a moment’s silence, her whispered words filtered through the dark. “Thank you.”

A week passed uneventfully. The days took on a rhythm of their own. Sarah cooked breakfast early and called Brace and Stephen when it was ready. Reluctantly Brace took his leave shortly after he’d finished the meal, heading for the middle of town and the office he kept there. It was a worry, leaving Sarah alone in the big house, but there was no help for it. He couldn’t very well take her to work with him, and there’d be talk aplenty if he stayed home with her. Besides, there was Stephen to consider. Brace’s first task was to drop the boy off at the small schoolhouse at the edge of town.

The boy was under strict orders to remain inside until Brace arrived to pick him up later in the day. It made a shorter workday for Brace, but he knew instinctively that there would be no complaint from the townspeople. They’d gotten their money’s worth from him, and he could pretty well do as he pleased.

What he was pleased to do, he found, was to go home to Sarah. She was usually wrapped in a large apron, working in his kitchen when he arrived. Flushed and bright eyed, she seemed happy to see him, and those short minutes of greeting and her hurried instructions to make himself ready for supper began his evenings on a high note.

They sat in the library some evenings, Sarah reading aloud to Stephen, with Brace an eager listener. Other nights, once Stephen was in bed, they sat at the kitchen table and Sarah patiently tutored Brace with some of the simpler books he owned. The reading was coming easier these days, he realized.

“Why didn’t you learn to read in school?” Sarah asked gently as she shifted the current book to lay it in front of him. Folding her hands before her on the table, she watched him from eyes that were warm and soft in the lamplight.

“I just couldn’t seem to put the letters together. The teacher in our school was impatient with me. Told me I was just lazy. But there was never another child who wanted to read for himself more than I did. I felt left out and lonely. My sister read everything in sight, and my mother simply shook her head at my stumbling efforts.”

“How cruel.” Sarah, it seemed, was not partial to Brace’s mother at this moment. “I can’t imagine not getting help of some kind for a child with a special need.” She eyed him thoughtfully. “It’s strange that none of your other skills were affected. You’re eloquent and present a picture of intelligence. No one would ever guess that you have a problem of any sort.”

“I don’t tell folks,” he said shortly. “Just one other person knows. Except for Jamie, my deputy, and he only suspects. I ask him to read the posters for me and the mail that comes in. But I can handle most of it.”

“It’s not shameful, you know.” Sarah’s voice was stern and Brace looked up at her, for a moment ignoring the words on the page before him.

“Maybe not,” he said. “But I felt ashamed. My whole life was tainted by it. Until I met a woman, Faith Hudson, and she began to tutor me.”

“Were you in love with her?” Sarah asked quietly with a wistful note in her voice.

“I could have been. But she was married and ended up going back east to her husband.” He reached out one big hand to Sarah, clasping her fingers in his. “To tell the truth, Sarah, I’m almost glad she’s gone. I’ve just begun to realize that she wasn’t the woman for me.”

Sarah was quiet, her eyes scanning his face, then her gaze dropped to where their hands were joined in an easy grip. “I’m not either, Brace,” she said in a low whisper.

“No?” He lifted her hand and bent forward, his mouth touching the soft skin on the backs of her fingers. “I’m beginning to think differently.”

“I have too many problems,” Sarah told him. “Along with Stephen, I have a brother-in-law who’s out for my skin. And he won’t care who he has to get rid of in order to make me pay for taking his son.”

“He’ll never touch you,” Brace vowed. “That’s why you’re here, Sarah. I want you safe. Don’t you believe I’ll take care of you and Stephen?”

She nodded. “I believe that’s your plan. But things don’t always work out the way we want them to.”

“Well, I’ve got a couple of ideas up my sleeve,” Brace said. “I’m about ready to make you an offer, Sarah. I hope you’ll think it over before you give me an answer.”

“An offer?” She paled at his words and snatched her hand from his grasp. “Don’t ask me to marry you, Brace. I won’t let you take on my mess.”

“Ah, but the deal is, I’ll get you as my wife. Right now I can’t think of anything I’d like better. And believe me, I’ve thought of little else since you moved in here.”

“I’ve been thinking about taking Stephen somewhere else,” she admitted. “I don’t want the people here to start talking about you. If I’m the cause of you losing your job, I’d never forgive myself.”

“Well, then. There’s a simple solution, sweetheart. Just say the word, and I’ll have the minister stop by and bring his book of prayers with him.”

“You make it sound so easy,” she said with a grimace. “There’s more to it than that, Brace. You need to think of the days and years ahead, when you’re stuck with a wife you hadn’t planned on. What if you change your mind?”

“I’m not impulsive, usually,” he said. “But I knew when I saw you that first night that you were the most appealing woman I’d laid eyes on in a month of Sundays. And your being here has reinforced my opinion. I want you, Sarah. Not just in my bed, although that’s a part of it. I want you to live in my house and take care of me and make me feel like a man with roots—a family, and a woman who cares about him.”

“I’m here now,” she told him. “I’m taking care of you and I care about you. You don’t have to offer marriage.”

He shot her a glance that made her cheeks burn. His gaze fell to rest on the soft curves of her breasts and dwelt there for a long minute. “In order to have you where I want you, I have to offer marriage, Sarah. I won’t have you in my bed any other way.”

“In your bed.” She pressed her lips together firmly, then looked down at the tabletop. “I don’t think I’ll sever be very good at that part of marriage,” she said. “From what Sierra told me, it sounds like a nasty business, and a woman is at a disadvantage.”

Brace laughed, a soft chuckle that made her look up at him. “I don’t know what sort of marriage your sister had,” he said, “but any man who puts his wife at a disadvantage is not much of a man at all. As to the ‘nasty business’ part, I’ll be happy to show you otherwise, once we get a ring on your finger.”

He reached for her again, rising and lifting her from her chair. His arms encircled her and he held her firmly against his body, aware that his arousal had to be evident to her. She might as well get used to it, he figured. It wasn’t going to ease up until he had his way, and she was persuaded to do as he asked.