My Baby, My Bride

“It makes something,” he said, “and in my book, it makes something good.”

“Yes, well—” Her voice drifted away. “I want something more solid than sexual desire. That fades away over time.”

He turned into the Carmines’ drive. “Like what? A written promise that I’ll always want you enough to make love to you in a closet?”

“Yes.” Liberty nodded. “And that you’ll never try to rule me, or boss me, or overwhelm me with your personality. You’re very chauvinistic in some ways, Duke.”

He laughed. “Not me. That would be my brother, Zach.”

She shook her head. “Zach was always the gentleman. The girls love him. You were always the autocratic one.”

“That’s why I’m sheriff,” he said happily. “It’s an autocracy.” He stopped the engine. “You’ve been hanging around those little blue-haired friends of yours too much. Any day now I expect them to bring out their suffragette banners.”

“That’s not very nice, Duke Forrester. Shame on you.”

He smiled, appreciating the sensation of being the bad boy with a bad girl. “I couldn’t boss you even if I wanted to, Liberty Wentworth. You’re far too unquantifiable for that.” Leaning over, he brushed her lips with his. “Of course, I’ll always be bullheaded enough to take what’s mine.”

“That’s it,” Liberty said, getting out of the truck, “you flunked the test.”

“Poor testing parameters, if you ask me.” He took her arm, helping her to the porch. “You and I were made for each other. We’re like an odd shape, not meant to fit another puzzle on the planet.”

“Sounds dreadful.” Liberty knocked on the door. “Mrs. Carmine! Are you home? It’s Liberty Wentworth!”

“I believe that’s my job,” Duke said to her. “And Sheriff Duke Forrester!”

“Sometimes it’s easier for women to talk to women. Especially about things like husbands that run off for days.”

He crooked an eyebrow at her. “One day, our last name is going to be the same, and then we can stand on Mrs. Carmine’s front porch and just holler ‘It’s the Forresters!’”

“Sounds like a movie title. Maybe it is. It was probably a bad one, too,” she said as Mrs. Carmine opened the door.

“No way. Everything about the two of us together is good,” Duke said as Liberty hugged Mrs. Carmine.

“How are you doing?” Liberty asked the elderly lady.

“I’m fine.” She smiled bravely. “I’m just lonely. Would you mind fetching my husband home?” she asked Duke.

It would be a chore searching all the acreage, but one he’d done many times. “A pleasure,” he said, interpreting Liberty’s glare to mean be gracious. “We’ll go right now. Don’t you worry about a thing, Mrs. Carmine. We’ll tell Bug it’s time to get home.”

She nodded. “Thank you. It’s good to see you, Liberty,” she said, her voice quavering. “If I’d known how men like to disappear, I probably wouldn’t have married Bug, as much as I hate to say it.”

Great. That’s all I need—a little help from the “Wish I Hadn’t” club. “Now, Mrs. Carmine,” Duke said patiently, “you know you love Bug.”

“Bug is a pain in my ass,” she declared. “Like a child, always running off.” She looked at Liberty. “You’re lucky Duke is such a stalwart sort.”

Duke enjoyed the blush pinkening Liberty’s face. It was good for Liberty to know that other women considered him a catch!

“Of course, stalwart can be boring,” Mrs. Carmine said with a frown. “If I was your age again, I’d run off with an Italian lover or a Russian circus performer first. Then I might settle down. Might.”

Liberty blinked. “Let me fix you a cup of hot tea, Mrs. Carmine.”

“No.” A sigh so deep it made her pinafore rise escaped her. “You just go find my Bug before I get the urge to squash him.”

Liberty hugged the older woman, then walked out the front door Duke held open for her.

“Now don’t go getting any ideas,” Duke said. “It’s well-known that the Carmines married very young.”

“Her words are food for thought, though,” Liberty said.

“Try a diet,” Duke said. “Some foods aren’t healthy for you.”

Liberty got in the truck. “Then again, sometimes the food you like most is the least healthy for you.”

He turned to look at her before grabbing her shoulders and kissing her hard. “How’s that for an appetizer?” he asked after he’d thoroughly ravaged her mouth.

She raised her chin and gave him a haughty look. “So good I prefer to skip the main course.”

He rammed his hat down on his head, not sure what to say to that. What was wrong with her? Women didn’t push him away as hard as Liberty was doing. Driving down the hill into the back pasture, he considered his options where Liberty was concerned.

He didn’t appear to have many.

“Duke, when do you run for reelection?”

The change of subject startled him. “I don’t really run. No one else wants the job. I’ve always been a shoo-in.”

“When does that happen?”

“I suppose the elections are this month. I hadn’t really thought about it.” He began to scan the landscape for Bug. “You look on that side, I’ll look over here.”

He thought about her question and idly wondered what had brought her back to town. “Are you running?”

She looked at him. “From you?”

“For sheriff,” he stated flatly, his jaw tightening. Did she have to bring that up again?

“Oh, no. I heard your brother Zach was. Then I heard your sister Pepper was, but that’s silly. Pepper’s not here.”

His jaw untightened and went slack. “Where did you hear that?”

“At the saloon.”

“They haven’t told me.”

“Actually, what I think I heard is that the ladies have decided to petition them onto the ballot.”

“The ladies?” Duke demanded. “By that you mean the little group that’s constantly scheming.” He was slightly hurt, he had to admit. The “ladies” always conspired against him, but it was usually in a somewhat delightful spirit that he indulged. They were, after all, much older than he and deserved his respect.

But petitioning his siblings onto a ballot to run against him didn’t sound like something he cared to indulge. He kept looking for Bug, trying to ignore the hammering in his heart.