First Class Male (19 page)

“Pregnant?” Yes, that would be a complication. “I don’t want that to be the reason he marries me either.”

“Learn a lesson from my mistakes,” Mariel advised, grabbing a short length of string from the top of the bureau and tying it around the end of the braid. “My story didn’t end happily. The man I’d given my heart to, the one who’d swore he’d love me forever, refused to marry me. My parents were shamed, I had to leave my home in Boston and live with a spinster aunt in Pennsylvania who was not happy to have a pregnant fallen woman in the house with her. She threw me out as soon as the baby was born.”

“Mariel, I’m so sorry.” Callie turned around, stunned that any family could be so heartless. But then, she’d been lucky with her loving parents and then her caring grandparents.

“Don’t be sorry, it turned out all right for me, but it took a while.” Mariel patted Callie’s cheek, just like her grandmother used to do. “You look beautiful in that dress, just adorable. Let’s you and I walk over to the marshal’s office and tell Mason you are accepting his proposal.”

“Thank you. Truly.” She took Mariel’s hand in hers, deeply grateful for this woman’s kindness. “I wish I could. More than anything. But I can’t do that to him. I’m leaving town in an hour.”

“That would be a mistake, sweetheart.” Mariel’s eyes filled with tears. “You have a man willing to give you a home and a life. Mason is such a good man. I remember when he was a schoolteacher here. All the kids loved him. He was tough but fair, and he loved his wife so much. Just worshipped her. I know he would be good to you.”

“I don’t want good, I want amazing.” Callie blinked, because her vision blurred, her eyes hot with tears. “I don’t want Mason to marry me because of duty or honor. I want him to marry me because he loves me so much he can’t live without me. I want his heart.”

“Maybe that will come in time,” Mariel suggested. “I know he cares about you. I can see it.”

“I know he cares deeply for me, but it isn’t enough. His heart isn’t free, and he’s not ready.” She shrugged, reaching for her sunbonnet. “It will hurt both of us, me wanting what he can’t give, him trying to give what he doesn’t have. I’m leaving, and it’s for the best.”

“I disagree.” Mariel took the sunbonnet and placed it on Callie’s head and tied the ribbons in a loopy bow. “But it’s your choice. If you ever need a place to stay again, you come straight to me. In fact, I expect you to write to me often and let me know how you are. I keep track of my girls.”

“That’s a promise I will keep.” Callie reached for her satchel. “Would you walk me to the train station?”

“Of course.” Mariel wiped away the tears brimming her eyes. “This can’t be easy for you, leaving like this. Leaving your heart behind.”

That was it exactly. Callie placed a hand over her chest, where her heart was in pieces. She thought of Mason’s touch, of his voice low and rough in the night, of the love and need she’d felt from him. She’d found the love of her life. But she wanted to be the love of his too.

Was there a chance he would ever realize that? She didn’t know. She took one look in the mirror, at the purple dress, the iris-blue sunbonnet, the pink glow on her cheeks. She looked different today. Mason had changed her. He’d broken her heart, but he’d given it new life too.

Now it was time to go home.

Mason squinted at the lawman hiking up the boardwalk in front of the undertaker’s. He cleared his throat. “You got that satchel delivered all right?”

“Yep, I gave it to Mariel.” Pauly adjusted his sling. The color was back in his face, after taking that bullet. “Don’t know why you’re letting Miss Callie leave town. Pretty gal like that, and after spending the night with her—”

“No need to comment on it,” Mason barked out, perhaps louder than he meant to. Clearly that was a touchy spot, and rightly so. All he’d done since he’d returned to town was worry about her. How she was feeling, had she changed her mind about his proposal, would she stay in town if he asked her, what if she was pregnant? He grimaced, had to look across the road hoping Pauly couldn’t guess what was troubling him.

“Well, it would be better for her reputation, what’s left of it,” Pauly commented. “But honestly, Mason, you should marry her.”

“I know.” He opened the door, stormed into the building, the strike of his boots against the floor echoing like gunfire in the solemn foyer. “She said no, and that was smart of her.”

“She said no?” Pauly moseyed in, closed the door, swept off his hat. “Well, guess I can’t blame her there.”

“That’s tough, Mason. I’m sorry.” Deeks strode into sight around a corner, leading the way down the hall he’d come from. “A man might balk at matrimony, but rejection is never good.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Clint chimed in from the back room, where he stood in front of a row of coffins, a folder of paperwork in hand. “I almost got married once, and even though it didn’t work out, it was the smartest thing I ever did.”

“Almost got married?” Pauly asked. “What happened? Did she change her mind?”

“Yep, right at the altar, but I almost got her.” Clint winked. “Maybe I’ll have better luck next time.”

Mason shook his head. He wasn’t tempted to laugh. Right now he couldn’t get past the torture of remembering Callie behind that curtain, head bowed in misery. Knowing she was hurting and realizing she didn’t want him to do anything about it ripped him apart.

“We got four new bodies here from yesterday.” Clint gestured toward the dead men, at peace in a way they never were in life, laid out in pine boxes. “There’s Lew Folsom. Headquarters is gonna be awful glad to hear he is no longer a problem. Those are two of his lead men, Dustin Hinze and Jeb Keller. Then there’s this old man. I don’t have a name on him yet. Do you recognize him?”

“He’s not on any wanted posters,” Pauly said, leaning in to study the weathered face and graying hair. “Nope, I don’t know him. How about you, Mason?”

“Let’s see.” He ambled up to the last coffin in the row and peered at the pale face, slack in death, a face he recognized. Shock hit him hard, had him reeling into the past, to the bank where this same man shot Opal in the back as easily as if he’d been closing a door.

“I know him. That’s Sam Cates, the one man who was never caught.” The words sounded strained, squeezed out of his tightening windpipe. His heart had simply crumpled. He couldn’t breathe, he felt dizzy and weak. He leaned against the wall for support. “He’s the outlaw who shot my wife.”

“Well.” Clint didn’t know what to say, just hung his head, and silence filled the room.

When Mason looked up, everyone was watching him with sympathy and pity. He couldn’t handle that, he wanted to be alone, so he reached for Clint’s folder. “I’ll take it from here. You all had a hard day yesterday. Take off early. You’ve earned it.”

“Okay, boss.” Deeks was the first to walk away, leading the others. “See ya tomorrow.”

“We’re heading over to the Lucky Seven.” Pauly stopped in the hallway, looked back over his shoulder. “Come join us. You always say no, but I had to ask.”

Mason’s throat was too tight to speak, too full of emotion, so he shook his head. No, he wouldn’t be coming. He listened to the men’s footsteps echo down the hall, heard them fade away. He didn’t move until he was completely alone.

He stared at Sam Cates, at the bullet hole in his chest, and felt something break apart inside. Grief.

Callie was right. She was right. He shook his head, not able to believe it, but he knew it was true. All this time he’d buried himself in his work, not because he was trying to make the world a better place, but because he was hiding from his pain. Not facing his loss. He told himself he couldn’t love, but last night with Callie had shown him something.

He could love, if he let himself. That was the problem. He wasn’t letting himself live or love. He turned away, paced the length of the room, angry at himself. His heart hadn’t died long ago, he’d been the one to turn it off. That’s why he didn’t have anything to give, why he’d stopped being able to love. He pushed everyone away,
everyone,
even the men he worked with.

Mason hung his head, blinking hard, and stopped in front of the old outlaw’s coffin again. He hadn’t realized what had been driving him, but his hunt to find justice was over. Without that, he had nothing to hold back the grief. It hit him hard.

Very hard. So did his failures.

Callie gave Mariel a hug goodbye and hurried across the platform where the train waited, spewing smoke and noise. The whistle blew over the sounds of teary goodbyes and conversations along the platform, kicking up her pulse. If she wasn’t so sad, it would be exciting to think she’d be home by supper, walking into the little shanty she’d shared with her sisters. Thinking of seeing their dear faces, she walked a little faster. As much as it hurt to leave, the prospect of being with them again sustained her. The solace of her sister’s love was exactly what she needed right now.

Part of her wanted to turn back, already missing Mason. It took strength to keep going. She climbed into the passenger car, satchel in hand, her heart heavy. The car was crowded, she spotted a free seat in the very back and headed straight for it. Her feet seemed to drag. It wasn’t easy to leave. She wanted Mason—whole and loving—with all of her soul.

Was it possible? She didn’t know. She plopped onto the seat and tucked her satchel underneath her. She dreamed of him rushing down the aisle after her, desperate to win her back, but she shook her head, knowing it would never happen. She peered out the window, searching for Mariel in the crowd, and waved to her. The woman waved back, looking regretful, as if she were sure Callie was making a mistake she would regret forever.

And maybe a part of her, down deep, felt the same. Callie bit her bottom lip, unable to deny it. But she couldn’t settle for anything but Mason’s heart. It was his heart she wanted.

Mariel had departed, so Callie looked one more time at the town where her life had changed. Clark Creek spread out in a cozy sprawl beneath the blaze of the sun, dotted with lush green trees that dappled shade across residential yards and town streets. Then something familiar caught her eye and she sat up straighter in her seat, riveted by a man all in black with his wide shoulders set, his Stetson shading his face. He stormed across the platform like a lawman on the hunt, his gait swift and commanding.

Mason.
Her heart gave a thrilling tumble, then her stomach squeezed with dread. Mason was here? What did he want? What if he was going to try and talk her into a convenient, loveless marriage again? Her palms went damp, she couldn’t catch her breath. Was he going to break her heart even more by trying to make her stay?

He looked determined as he strode to a stop on the platform, tipped up his hat. His whiskered jaw was set, powerful body tensed, a man on a mission. She wasn’t prepared for this—she’d said her goodbye to him. Why wasn’t that enough?

She watched him search the windows of the cars and knew the exact moment he recognized her behind the sun-streaked glass. He froze, his entire frame tensing like a man ready to fight, and she went cold inside. As he stalked closer, a tremble quaked through her. Images assaulted her, memories overtook her. She couldn’t stop them. They flashed into her mind. His touch on her skin, soft on her breasts. His hands grazing her thighs, then clutching her hips as he came. The sight of him naked and lying on his back as he drew her over him, joining them together.

Her breath quickened, she felt her heart opening to him and she could not stop it. He was her destiny—she had no doubt about that—but she was not his. He reached up to knock on the window, staring in at her.

Resigned, gathering every scrap of courage she had, she unlatched the window and shoved up the wooden frame.

“Callie.” He gripped the sill, staring in at her, eyes dark and intense. He was as formidable as a mountain, hard as granite and still so remote, a man closed to love and life.

Disappointment cinched through her, drawing her insides tight like a belt squeezing. She hadn’t realized until that moment how she’d hoped that something had changed in him. Sorrow beat at her, and she balled up her hands, struggling to keep it inside.