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Authors: Karen Kirst

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BOOK: Married by Christmas
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The sheriff tucked the small pad of paper into his pocket. “You’ve given me plenty to go on. I’ll round up a search party when I leave and share this information with the men.”

“You’ll keep me posted?”

With a nod, Shane retreated to the fireplace, propping an elbow on the mantel as Monroe finally pushed to his feet and approached the bed. Doc’s bulky form was sprawled in one of the dining table chairs. His unreadable gaze tracked Monroe’s progress.

The hairs on the back of Caleb’s neck stood to attention. Suddenly he could identify with the animals he hunted, could feel how it was to be prey. The air grew heavy with foreboding.

Monroe took up residence at the foot of his bed, fleshy hands folded neatly at his waist. “There’s something we need to discuss with you, son.”

Son? Caleb’s body went rigid, exhaustion chased away by surging adrenaline.

“Rebecca took you in and cared for you...nursed you back to health, you might say, which is a blessing from God. If she hadn’t found you in time—” He cleared his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing. His eyes looked a little sad. “The problem is your isolation here in this cabin. You and Rebecca have spent many days and nights alone together without supervision. And while we—” he gestured to Shane and Doc Owens “—are confident nothing untoward occurred, the same might not be said of everyone in town.”

Monroe’s words rattled around in Caleb’s brain, refusing to connect into anything sensible. His gaze probed Doc’s face first, then Shane’s. The young sheriff looked slightly annoyed, as if he found the entire conversation ridiculous.

“Of course nothing occurred,” Caleb snapped. “Even if I hadn’t been wounded, I would never have compromised Becca in any way.”

Had they all conveniently forgotten how much she detested him?

“Of course you wouldn’t. You’ve both been raised to follow God’s principles. You are aware, however, that all it takes to ruin a reputation is the suggestion of impropriety. Rebecca will be subjected to ill-treatment if you do not marry her.”


Marry
her?” He half snorted, half laughed.

Doc shifted in his chair. “This is hardly a matter to take lightly.”

“You have lost your minds if you think Becca would ever agree to marry me.” The momentary spark of humor fizzled. “She would willingly suffer gossip and public slights and much more, I’m sure, if that meant avoiding getting tangled up with me.”

“And what of Amy?” Monroe said. “Would Rebecca place her in a position to be ridiculed and ignored, especially after everything she’s endured with her parents passing at such a young age?”

No need to respond to that. Everyone in this room already knew the answer.

The headboard bit into Caleb’s back as he sank farther into the mattress. Rebecca would do anything to protect Amy. Even sacrifice herself.

Monroe came around and perched on the bed’s edge, his somber manner turning intense. “You’re a good man, Caleb. I know this isn’t easy. Sometimes God brings difficult things into our lives in order to make us stronger. Sometimes it’s to increase our faith and other times He simply wants us to acknowledge we can’t do everything in our own strength. I don’t know why this happened, but I trust you will do everything in your power to safeguard your friend and her sister.”

Caleb squeezed his eyes shut. “I need time to think.”

“There isn’t much time, I’m afraid. The longer we postpone putting this situation to rights, the worse the repercussions.”

“You’re gonna have to be patient.” He tried not to glare at the reverend. “And understand this—even if I do decide to heed your warning, no one can force Becca into doing something she doesn’t wanna do.”

Chapter Nine

“R
ebecca?”

Jumping up from the bed, she smoothed her skirts and opened the door. Shane Timmons stood on the other side. Brushing longish blond locks off his forehead, he wore an air of impatience. “Doc’s getting ready to leave. He’d like a word.”

“Right.”

“I want to thank you for everything you did to save Caleb’s life. Without his testimony, Tate’s murderers would’ve gone free.” Twin flames of determination burned in his hard blue eyes.

“I hope you find them soon.”

“Until I do, don’t let your guard down.” He slapped his Stetson on his head and, with a nod to the others, took his leave.

Her gaze sought out Caleb. Propped up once more in the bed, his lower half wrapped in the quilt, his shuttered expression gave nothing away. She joined Doc at the door. He didn’t appear particularly worried. Then again, he didn’t look upbeat. He was hard to read at times.

“You did a fine job, Rebecca.” Already clothed in his outer garments, he grasped the bag’s handle with both hands. “We’ll need to watch for signs the infection has returned, but he’s young and strong. I’m hopeful the worst has passed. He’ll need lots of rest.” Indicating the handmade crutches in the corner, he said, “Make sure he doesn’t put any weight on that leg. I’ll come back in a couple of days to check his progress.”

The relief that washed over her receded when it registered that preparations weren’t being made for Caleb’s departure. “I had assumed you’d want to move him to your office.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Well, now, I think that’s something you should discuss with Reverend Monroe.”

“I d-don’t understand,” she stuttered, fighting rising panic. “You’re the doctor. Caleb is your patient. You should be the one to make decisions regarding his care.”

Dear Lord, please,
please
don’t let this head where I think it’s headed.

Movement behind her had her whirling to face the reverend. “Rebecca, this is a sensitive situation. I’m sure you can appreciate that fact.”

“No, actually, I can’t. We haven’t done anything wrong. I—I discovered a man
dying
in the snow. Am I to be punished for helping him?”

“Becca.”

The command in Caleb’s voice snapped her attention to him. He’d moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and what she saw in his eyes frightened her. Resignation. That’s what had taken so long. Not Doc’s examination or Shane’s interrogation. They’d been discussing her reputation and how a hasty marriage could smooth away speculation and gossip.

“We’ll figure this out,” he said. Tension tightened his clean-shaven jaw, but there was no denying he’d fallen for their appeals to his honor. She could hear them now.
You’ve cast doubts upon her virtue. Folks will talk. It won’t be pretty. Marry her and make it right.

She felt like a cornered animal, and anger welled inside. “There’s nothing to figure out.”

“I believe the lady and I need some privacy, gentlemen.” While his pallor and the pain etched in his features declared he was unwell, his demeanor brooked no argument.

“There’s no need for privacy,” she shot back, “because I won’t marry you, Caleb O’Malley. Not now, not ever.”

* * *

“You’re making my head spin,” Caleb complained, shifting the pillows so that the headboard didn’t dig into his back. “Sit down so we can figure a way outta this mess.”

Mess was putting it mildly.
Disaster
was more like it. Her frantic pacing wasn’t really what was causing this sensation of being suspended from the rafters by his boots; it was the unwelcome surprise Monroe and Doc had dropped on him. He’d had absolutely no warning, no preparation. No words to combat their insinuations.

Marry Rebecca or she and Amy would suffer the consequences.

Him? The man she despised most in this world? Marry Becca? She would never agree. On the off chance she did succumb to their coercion, he couldn’t in good conscience bind her to him, not when he knew how she felt about him, knew that every day for the rest of their lives his mutilated face would remind her afresh of the grief and turmoil he’d caused her.

Marrying her or any other woman was not something he was prepared to do. The night of the accident, he’d come to the realization that he was a danger to others. His very nature put those he cared about at risk. Look what happened to his mother last fall—a storm had come up and, because of his careless handling of the team, the wagon tipped, and she’d suffered a badly broken leg. His father had been covered with bruises. In spite of his efforts to stay away, he’d brought trouble to Becca’s door. His very presence was putting two innocent lives in danger.

“I can’t sit.” Stormy green eyes shot daggers at the closed door through which the men had disappeared not five minutes ago. “I’m too wound up to sit.” She threw her hands up.

“Becca, please.” He pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off the ache building behind his eyes.

With a huff, she plopped into the chair and cast him a baleful glare. One knee bounced with impatience. “Do tell me, Caleb, how do you propose we handle this?”

“I don’t have any answers. After all, I just learned of our predicament minutes ago. You, on the other hand, didn’t seem surprised. Why is that?”

Long lashes lowered to skim cheeks high in color. “Meredith and Louis shared their concerns with me.”

So Doc and the reverend weren’t the only ones to spot potential problems. Not good. “And you didn’t think I deserved to know? A warning might’ve been nice.”

“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to tell you.” Defensiveness flared. “Anyway, they’re welcome to their opinions. We both know we’re innocent. That’s all that matters.”

Caleb wished he could agree. Indeed, despite her brave words, doubts lurked in the luminous depths. They both knew how small towns operated, how people’s minds worked. In situations like this—a single man and woman sharing a small cabin for nearly a week—the tendency was to assume the worst.

She smoothed copper-streaked strands with unsteady fingers. “I don’t like that look.”

“What look is that?” His brows rose.

“The one where you agree with them.” Pointing a finger at him, she surged to her feet. “I will not marry you.”

“I don’t recall asking,” he drawled, schooling his features to mask the prick of hurt her repeated denials caused.

Her hands went to her hair again, twisting and tugging the mass into a thick roll. His fingers itched to take over the job, certain the strands would feel as satiny as they appeared.
Yeah, like I’d ever get the chance.

“I suppose when the reverend comes tomorrow for our answer, we’ll inform him of our decision. That we won’t be pressured into a marriage neither of us want.”

“Sounds reasonable.” The headache bloomed into a full-on assault. He
hated
that he’d put her in this position. “What happens after I leave, though? Will you be able to ignore the inevitable gossip? What if folks shun you?”

Her chin jutted. “I can handle gossip. While there may be some who will be hateful, my true friends will stand by me.”

His gaze strayed to the bedroom door. Amy hadn’t been happy to be relegated to the room once again. Or had it been the fact she had to resume her schoolwork?

“And what of your sister?” He pitched his voice low. “Kids aren’t always as forgiving or tactful as adults. I don’t want her to be hurt because of something I did.”

He absently rubbed the tiny scars fanning out beside his eye, the sensitive, puckered skin smarting as he did so. If he disappeared into the high country, they’d be left behind to bear the brunt of scandal. He’d escape it all. Something deep inside—his conscience, his sense of honor as a man—balked at the idea. It would be the sawmill accident all over again...others suffering because of his actions.

But what other course did he have?

Becca bit her lip. Clearly she hadn’t considered how the thirteen-year-old would handle the fallout. “She’s been through so much already....” Troubled, she resumed her pacing, though this time her feet seemed weighted, her steps lagging. Finally, she handed him a determined look. “We’ll just have to deal with it the best we can. We don’t have a choice.”

“It seems I owe you yet another apology,” he said quietly, hands fisting on the quilt. “I couldn’t fix things two years ago, and I can’t fix them now. Either way I turn, you’ll be hurt.”

“It’s not like you pointed Rebel in my direction and chose to black out in my backyard,” she conceded.

Now probably wouldn’t be a good time to point out that Rebel knew the way to her farm almost as well as he knew the way home, seeing as how they’d come here time and time again to leave fresh meat.

“I’m sure the gossip will subside after a couple of weeks,” she said. “With you gone on another one of your excursions, folks will forget soon enough. Out of sight, out of mind.”

Ouch. Was that her way of saying he was forgettable?

“You will still be here, however. You and Amy.” He wasn’t convinced the matter would dissipate so easily.

“We’ll deal with it like we’ve dealt with everything else—together and with God’s help.”

There was nothing left to say, was there? If she was comfortable with handling things here without him, then he’d have to go along with it. He only hoped the price Becca paid for helping him wouldn’t prove too high.

* * *

Caleb stirred, confused as to exactly when he’d drifted off to sleep, slowly registering a presence beside the bed. Shifting his head on the pillow, his gaze met a pair of silver eyes that were dark with worry.

He groaned, braced himself for a lecture. “Nathan.”

“I would ask you how you’re feeling, little brother.” He folded his arms across his chest and leveled him a penetrating stare. “But it’s fairly obvious. I’m glad Ma agreed to postpone her visit.” Threading fingers through dark brown hair grown longer than usual, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Louis told me you’d been shot, but I didn’t realize how bad off you were.”

“Doc says I’m on the mend.” Scooting up, he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grimacing as pain radiated outward from the bullet hole.

“If that’s the case, I don’t wanna even think about what you must’ve looked like when Rebecca found you.”

Caleb scanned the living and kitchen areas. Judging from the waning light filtering through the curtains, dusk was close at hand. Had he slept through supper? “Where is she?”

“In the barn with Amy.”

He massaged his temples, the headache reemerging as he recalled their predicament and the thorough lack of satisfying resolutions.

“Did she take a gun with her?”

His eyes narrowed. “Yes, as a matter of fact, she did. What happened out there, Caleb?”

Nathan listened with grim attention as he relayed the events leading up to his losing consciousness not far from her cabin. “You’ve told Timmons all this, right?”

“He’s gathering up men as we speak. They’re leaving at first light tomorrow morning.” Nathan didn’t need to know about his plan to eventually join the search party. He would only argue against it.

“I wonder if any of Cades Cove’s residents are involved.”

“It’s entirely possible.”

Nathan’s frown deepened. “We need to get a letter to Evan and Juliana.”

Did their cousin and her husband even realize there was trouble? “There’s a chance no one suspects Tate’s missing. He could’ve had business in another town.”

Business that wouldn’t be completed. The image of the young lawman on his knees, head held high and righteous anger burning in his eyes as he faced down death, seized Caleb. Regret clamped like a vise about his lungs. If only he’d devised a better plan, moved faster—

Fingers squeezed his shoulder. “Hey, are you okay?”

Caleb’s eyes flew open. Nathan was standing over the bed, face hovering too close. “Yeah, why?”

“You just went two shades whiter than the pillowcase.” His mouth flattened as he pointed to Caleb’s leg. “I wanna see it.”

“And have you keel over like a schoolgirl? There may not be fresh blood, but it ain’t pretty.” His mouth slanted with self-mocking. “One more scar to add to the collection.”

Balancing his weight against the footboard, his older brother studied him. “This couldn’t have been easy for either of you.”

“Understatement of the year.”

“When she answered the door, she looked as if her world had come to an end.”

“That’s because the powers-that-be are pressuring us to marry.”

Nathan’s jaw dropped. “
What
did you say?”

“Think about it, Nate. I’ve spent a week in her home. She’s dealt with things an unmarried woman oughtn’t. Monroe walking in on her shaving me didn’t help matters.”

Scrubbing a hand down his face, Nathan shook his head. He, of all people, understood how this would impact them both. “What are you gonna do?”

“What do you expect me to do? One, I’m not fit for marriage. Two, she hates my guts. I couldn’t force her to wed me even if I wanted to.” When Nathan’s brow twitched, Caleb rushed to add, “Which I don’t.”

“You were close once upon a time. Surely she harbors some tender feelings for you, else she wouldn’t have taken you in.”

“Becca’s not heartless, and you know it. She wouldn’t have left me out there to die.”

“I don’t believe she hates you. She’s still angry, that’s all.”

“It’s more than that. The woman can’t stand the sight of me, Nate.” He sighed. “Help me get home.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

“I can ride a horse just fine. I’ll rest better in my own bed.”

Not that he planned on doing much of that. He’d give his leg a day or so to rest and then he was going hunting. For two-legged beasts this time. Shane Timmons had promised to put all his energy into finding the perpetrators, and Caleb trusted the no-nonsense lawman to do just that. Still, he had a personal stake in this. It was his hide if Shane and his men failed. Better to hunt than to be hunted. Injury or no, he couldn’t sit around and wait for trouble to come to him.

“I won’t do it.” Of course his brother would be stubborn.

“The longer I stay here, the more damage Becca’s reputation will suffer. Not to mention those thugs could trail me here.”

BOOK: Married by Christmas
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