Lawless Love (Lawmen and Outlaws) (6 page)

“Oh, yeah. It makes sense.”
Sure makes sense to me.

“Come on then. Get on a nice dress and…”

“Where we gonna live? You think of that? I’m not giving up this house after all I’ve gone through to get it!”

Dylan sighed in exasperation. “All right. We’ll sort out the details. You won’t have to give up the house. I’ll move here.”

“And as for being married to a lawman who might get hisself shot at any moment…”

Here it was, the old ‘I ain’t marryin’ no lawman.’ Well, this time he had the upper hand—as well as the woman he’d been waiting for. Dylan stood straight and slammed his hand against the wall. “Hell and damnation, Lacey. I’m trying to save your life here. You going to cooperate or what?”

Lacey took in a deep breath as she glanced across at her brother before turning back to Dylan. “You sure you want to do this, absolutely sure, for better or worse and all that.”

“Better or worse.”

****

“You can go on and kiss the bride now.” The preacher plastered a smile on his face as he closed the Bible, the beam matching the shine of his bald pate. He stood patiently waiting as Dylan took his time kissing his new bride, holding his grin in place as the kiss went on.

“You two gonna stop any time soon?” Luke said at last. “We didn’t have much of a breakfast.”

Dylan gently pulled away. “Well.” For a moment he found it hard to believe the angel he had seen washing in the river was now his bride, but he knew he’d never have any regrets. He bent to kiss Lacey lightly once more, then gave a smile to Luke. “I expect this calls for a celebration dinner over in that café I spotted. Will that do, Luke?”

“Sure will.” Luke looked rather pleased with the outcome. “I don’t reckon I’ve ever eaten in that place. And Del says it’s mighty good.”

“Well, let’s go.”

Lacey looped her arm through Dylan’s and clasped his hand. Luke followed behind, almost a skip in his step. Lacey used her free hand to lift the skirt of her Sunday dress to cross the mud of the road, dodging horses coming through. Every so often Dylan would glance down at his new wife, a small smile turning up his lips as she returned the look with luminous eyes.

“Dylan,” she said at last.

“Yes, dear?” He took her elbow as they stepped up onto the boardwalk, and Lacey stopped.

“You know when I said I’d read about that law which states a husband cannot testify against his wife?” She looked up at Dylan’s serious nod. “And you remember how I said there was only one small problem?”

“I remember. So?”

“Well, that there problem is this: that law is called something like spousal privilege or marital privilege—something like that.”

“And?”

“And, well, it doesn’t apply to things said
prior
to the marriage, Dylan. Those things are exempt from that privilege.”

Dylan stopped dead as Luke moaned, “Why did you tell him that, Lace? Why?”

“Luke, you go on and wait for us in the café. Dylan and I’ll be right in.”

The couple watched as a bewildered Luke sloped off to the restaurant, then faced each other again. Dylan saw the life he had yearned for slipping away. That pretty little house on the outskirts of town which Lacey had already made into a lovely home, the children asking to be swung when he came in each evening, even young Luke looking up to him as the father the boy had never had, all that disappearing, evaporating into a black mist.

“Why did you marry me, Lacey, if you knew that? I mean…You went on about only knowing me a few days and all. Why…why did you do that?”

“Well.” Lacey plunked down on one of the benches outside the barbershop they were passing. Smells of soap wafted out mixing with the horse and mud smells of the town. “I guess I just plumb wanted to marry you. I mean, last night and all, it was something, wasn’t it? And I figured…well, I figured you’re a good man and, I have to say, I really have feelings for you, Dylan, and I figure you return them and all. So I’d take my chances. But you can see I couldn’t let you go on and believe what you did. I couldn’t really do that to you. That’s no way to start a marriage.”

Dylan looked down at his wife and extended his hand to pull her back to her feet.

“So, well, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, Lacey. I really don’t know.” Right and wrong, black and white. Dylan J. Kane had finally encountered gray.

They walked slowly along the boards to the café, Dylan mulling this over as he clutched Lacey’s hand as if she might run off. Through a window, Dylan spotted Luke at a table, his eyes innocently scanning the menu, a look of delight on his face that the boy had no doubt not had for ages. The marshal reached out for the door just as the sheriff exited and faced him.

“Why, Marshal. Fancy seeing you here. And with Miss Everhart.”

Lacey flinched slightly as Dylan said quietly, “Well, it’s Mrs. Kane now, Sheriff. We were just wed.”

The sheriff didn’t bother to hide his look of surprise. His eyebrows shot up and might’ve hit his hairline if he’d had one. “Why, you sure do work mighty fast, Marshal Kane.” He hesitated. “Well, let me congratulate you both. I hope you’ll be happy.”

Dylan stood feeling the soft little hand in his and looked down at his bride. Lacey played her part—which wasn’t playing—and returned his look with a smile and those emerald eyes that had first entranced him. Yes, that was it. He was entranced. Captivated. Spellbound by her. She certainly had worked magic on him.

“Say, did you find any leads on that outlaw you were seeking in the Morgan case? Or has that all gone cold?”

There was no hesitation in Dylan Kane’s answer. He looked down at Lacey and squeezed her hand. “Well, hell and damnation, Sheriff. I guess this one’s just never gonna get solved.”

A word about the author...

Andrea Downing has spent most of her life in the UK, where she received an M.A. from the University of Keele in Staffordshire. She married and raised a beautiful daughter and stayed on in England to teach and write.

During this time, family vacations were often on guest ranches in the American West, where she and her daughter have clocked up some seventeen ranches to date. In addition, she has traveled widely throughout Europe, South America, and Africa, living briefly in Nigeria.

In 2008 she returned to the city of her birth, NYC, but frequently exchanges the canyons of city streets for the wide open spaces of the West. Her love of horses, ranches, rodeo, and just about anything else western is reflected in her writing.

Loveland
, another western historical romance published by The Wild Rose Press, Inc., was her first book. She is a member of Romance Writers of America and Women Writing the West.

Visit Andrea Downing at her website:

http://andreadowning.com/

Thank you for purchasing
this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.