Maureen McKade (31 page)

He brought her face downward to meet his mouth. With infinite tenderness, he banished Libby’s dark misgivings, and she lost herself in the ecstasy of Matt’s caresses.

The invasion of cold air roused Libby and she blinked in the early morning coral glow that painted the small room. She spotted Matt tucking his shirttails into his pants, and the lethargy of her body gave way to shyness. She tugged the quilt to her chin and observed Matt. Despite the many times they’d made love throughout the too-short night, Libby’s desire was again aroused by his broad shoulders and muscular thighs. Her newfound knowledge of the pleasures of passion served to stoke the glowing embers.

“Good morning, angel eyes.”

Matt’s deep rugged voice sent a delicious shiver of delight through Libby. “Good morning.”

He lowered himself to the edge of the bed and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry for waking you. I don’t want anyone to catch me here. Your reputation is already in trouble because of me. Besides, you looked tired.”

Libby noticed the circles beneath his eyes. “So do you. Why don’t you come back to bed?”

His rich laughter brought a tingle to Libby’s core. “If I come back to bed, we won’t be going back to sleep.”

Libby smiled. “That’s all right, too.”

He swept a few strands of hair from her face and tucked them behind her ear. “You should rest. Today’s going to be a long one, with all the decorating and the dance tonight. We’ll have the rest of our lives together.”

Libby stilled. What did he mean?

Matt’s gaze flickered down to his bronzed hand, which rested on the colorful quilt. His uncharacteristic nervousness sent anxiety racing through Libby.

“When you first came here you said you weren’t interested in getting hitched,” Matt began, “but I’m hoping you changed your mind. I mean, I know I haven’t had much learning, and a sheriff doesn’t have much to offer a woman besides a lot of worry.”

Libby captured his apprehensive face between her palms. “What is it you’re trying to say, Matt?”

He took a deep breath and raised his gaze to her. “I’ve admired you ever since you stepped off the stagecoach, and I been too stubborn to admit it until now. I’d be proud to call you my wife, if you’ll have me. Libby, will you marry me?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Did she have the right to capture the happiness she’d never thought she’d possess even for a night? Could she forget the horrors Harrison had inflicted upon her and convince herself she wasn’t a murderer? She could pretend her life started the day she stepped off the stagecoach in Deer Creek. The four-year marriage would cease to exist in her memory, and Matt would become her first and only true husband. She’d found in him a best friend, a considerate lover, and a compassionate man. He was the white knight she’d dreamed of as a young girl.

But what of her other dream? Would Matt allow her to work with Dr. Clapper? She’d forsaken her medical practice as Mrs. Harrison Thompson, and she’d learned she couldn’t ignore the healer within her. She loved Matt, but she also possessed a gift to share.

She lowered her hands and clasped the blanket. “Before I give you my answer, I have to know one thing, Matt. Would you let me work with Dr. Clapper?”

“Why wouldn’t I? He says you’d be a good nurse, and I know from personal experience he’s right. I’d be proud to have my wife help with the doctoring.”

The anvil weight lifted from Libby’s shoulders. She believed him.

Dare she take the chance and become his wife?

The answer came like a breeze whispering through the trees.

Libby hugged him close. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Matt’s strong arms tightened around her shoulders and the quilt slipped to her waist, revealing her firm breasts. Temptation enticed him to love her one more time before leaving, but he covered the alluring sight with the blanket. She had agreed to marry him, and the next time they shared a bed, she would be his in name also.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get married again, but then I never expected to find anyone like you either,” Matt said. “I’d like to set the date as soon as possible.”

Libby smiled. “How about tomorrow?”

“Christmas day?”

“Is that too soon?”

Matt chuckled. “You’re even more impatient than me. I was thinking of the first of the new year.”

“We have to wait a week?”

The dismay in Libby’s tone warmed Matt. “Lenore would shoot both of us if she didn’t have time to get things organized.”

Libby laughter shimmered like light through a prism. “You’re right. January first it is.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to make the announcement tonight at the dance,” Matt said hesitantly.

She frowned. “Why should I mind?”

Matt shrugged a shoulder. “Folks’ll try to talk you out of getting yourself hooked up with someone like me.”

“There’s nothing anyone can say that’ll convince me not to marry you. You’ve given me more than anyone could possibly imagine. I’m the luckiest woman in the world. I can’t believe you truly love me.”

“Believe it, angel eyes.” He skimmed his hand
down her back, and paused. With light fingers, he discovered narrow bands of raised skin. Libby’s body stiffened beneath his touch. His pulse thudded in his ears. If those marks were what he suspected….

“Turn around, Libby,” he said quietly.

“Why?”

“I want to see your back.”

Libby’s white face revealed her agitation. She attempted to smile, but the result resembled a grimace. “It’s nothing, Matt. Just an accident I had a long time ago.”

Empathy twisted his gut into knots. “You don’t have to lie to me, Libby. Let me see.”

She stared at him, her eyes sparkling like morning dew on a blade of grass. Reluctantly, she twisted her upper body and allowed Matt to view what he’d felt beneath his fingers.

Belt marks crisscrossed her back in four places. Matt’s blood thundered in his veins. Who would hurt beautiful, gentle-hearted Libby? “Who did this?”

She remained silent.

Helpless anger clawed at his insides. “Dammit, Libby, who hurt you?”

Her neck bowed and her shoulders shuddered. Carefully, as if she were fragile china, he grasped her arms and straightened her. Tears tracked down her ivory cheeks, and protectiveness overwhelmed Matt. He embraced her, burying his face in her tangled auburn curls.

Suspicion rippled a new wave of rage through Matt. “Did the man who forced you do this?”

Libby nodded against him.

Matt swore and tightened his hold on her. “Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. What happened is in the past. Can’t we leave it there?” she replied in a muffled voice.

He understood her unwillingness to talk about the
attack, but Matt wanted to make someone pay for hurting her. The need for vengeance against the man who brutalized her boiled in his blood. He took a deep breath and pressed his lips to her hair.

“You don’t have to be scared anymore, Libby,” Matt vowed. “I’ll protect you.”

He stretched out on top of the quilt beside her, keeping her cushioned in his arms. She’d been scarred, too, but Matt worried more about the damage to her inner self than the marks on the outside. She’d sensed his hidden pain and healed him of his tortured memories. He wished he could do the same for her.

He knew only one way to achieve his goal, and he already possessed the tool he needed: he’d love her every day for the rest of his life.

Chapter 16

L
ibby awakened for the second time that morning and found herself alone. The sunshine through a frosted pane of glass made her realize it was nearly midmorning. Soon people would arrive to prepare the schoolhouse for the evening’s festivities.

She bounced out of bed, groaning at the stiffness of her thighs. The recollection of the intimacies she’d shared with Matt brought a glow to her insides that minimized the discomfort. She’d finally discovered why most married people were so happy. And why they missed their companion so terribly. She loved Matt even more for merely holding her in his arms until she’d fallen asleep in the early morning.

Quickly, Libby washed up and dressed in a blue calico dress, forsaking her usual drab wear. Her light mood refused to allow somber clothing to camouflage her newfound joy. She braided her hair into one thick plait that hung to her waist. Pinching her cheeks, she wondered if anyone would see a difference in her. She laughed softly. Lenore would. And the older woman would bask in smug satisfaction at the upcoming nuptials.

Libby thought of Dylan, and how excited he’d be to learn the three of them could live together as a family.

A ready-made family. Contentment swelled within
Libby. She was grateful Harrison hadn’t gotten her pregnant, yet she sometimes wondered if the fault had been hers. Her monthly had always arrived on schedule, but perhaps something in her prevented conception. Despite her knowledge of the human body, she didn’t know if she’d ever be able to give Matt children.

The possibility terrified Libby. She didn’t think she was strong enough to release the love she’d just found. She refused to ponder the situation any further. It was Christmas Eve, and she had a busy day ahead of her.

The sound of voices announced the arrival of those who’d volunteered to help decorate. She wiped her palms against her skirt pleats and went to meet them.

The morning passed swiftly, and by noon the work was completed and everyone had left. The classroom was adorned with a ten-foot pine tree, decorated with homemade ornaments and strings of popcorn and wild berries. The desks had been pushed against the walls, and a nativity scene was set up in a front corner. As Libby rehearsed the children’s program in her mind, her stomach fluttered with anxiety. She hadn’t been so nervous since she’d taken her final medical exam.

“Sure don’t look like a schoolroom anymore.”

Libby turned at the sound of Matt’s voice. She tilted her head back and gazed up at his handsome face. The memory of the night heated her face, and her heart constricted with newfound love. He held his hat in his gloved hands, his eyes twinkling. He appeared more relaxed than she’d ever seen him.

“Hello, Matt,” she greeted shyly.

“Is that any kind of welcome for a man—from his soon-to-be wife?”

He opened his arms, and Libby entered their welcoming embrace. She inhaled his familiar scent. He raised her chin with his forefinger and kissed her lips lightly. “How did the morning go?”

Libby smiled and motioned to the room with her hand. “Everyone pitched in and got it done in no time at all.” She gazed up at his eyes, feeling she could lose herself in their adoring depths. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. Dylan and I went out to find a tree for Lenore, and we put it up in her parlor. She sent me over here to fetch you for dinner.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

She hurried to the back room to retrieve her hooded cloak, and they stepped out into the crisp cold. When Matt took her hand, she wrapped her fingers around his secure hold.

He guided her around a pile of horse droppings in the street. “What do you think of us adopting Dylan after we’re married?”

She smiled. “I was hoping you’d want to.”

Matt grinned. “So you’d already thought about it?”

Libby nodded. “He needs a stable home, and we already love him. I hope his mother doesn’t make things too difficult.”

“If I know Sadie, she will. We have to be prepared to fight for him.”

Libby moved closer to Matt. “We’ll do it together.”

Comfortable silence surrounded her, and she absorbed Matt’s loving attentiveness like a bee drinking a flower’s nectar. He opened the door to the boardinghouse, and the fragrance of pine and apples brought happy memories tumbling out of their hiding places.

Dylan skidded to a stop in front of them. “Hi, Miss O’Hanlon.”

Libby squatted down and hugged the boy. “Hello, Dylan. I hear you and the sheriff have been busy this morning.”

“We went out in the woods and chopped down a tree. Mrs. Potts said we could decorate it this afternoon. I’ve never decorated a Christmas tree before.”

“You’ll enjoy it, sweetheart.”

Lenore bustled into the entry. “Come on in and
hang your wraps up. I kept lunch warm. How did the decking-out go, over at the school? Did you get the place all spruced up? I was going to come over, but I been baking all morning, getting goodies ready for tonight.”

Matt chuckled. “Calm down Lenore, or your tongue’s going to lasso your lips and you won’t be able to do any jawing tonight. Course, that way someone else might be able to get a word in edgewise.”

Playfully, Lenore slapped Matt’s arm. “What’s got you in such a chipper mood?”

Matt shrugged innocently, his hair brushing his collar. “It’s Christmas Eve. Isn’t that a good enough reason?”

He winked at Libby.

Lenore wagged a finger at him. “I can smell a skunk in the coop. What’s going on?”

Dylan sniffed. “I don’t smell a skunk, Mrs. Potts.”

Laughter rang in the foyer and the boy looked at them, puzzled.

Lenore placed a chubby hand on Dylan’s shoulder. “It’s just a saying, honey. What do you say we have some chicken and dumplings?”

“As long as there isn’t no skunk in it,” Dylan said solemnly.

Matt smothered his amusement. “I’m not partial to skunks myself, partner.”

Lenore linked her arm through Libby’s crooked elbow. “Come on, dear. Those two’ll come when they get hungry enough.”

After eating, they moved into the parlor. Boxes containing ornaments littered the floor. With little encouragement, Libby, Matt, and Dylan set to work trimming the tree.

An hour later, Libby stepped back to admire their handiwork and her attention focused on Dylan, perched on Matt’s broad shoulders. In Dylan’s small hand was an angel fashioned from white yarn and
pieces of silk and velvet. He reached forward and placed the cherub on the evergreen’s top spire.

Libby clapped. “Good job, Dylan.”

Matt bent down and Libby swung Dylan to the floor. Matt wrapped his arm around Libby’s waist and she leaned against his solidness, her hand resting on Dylan’s back. She hadn’t celebrated Christmas since she’d married Harrison, and had avoided the resurrection of joy-filled childhood memories. Icy fingers of desolation had circled her heart the past four years, but now sunshine lit up her soul. Matt had given her the best present she could have wished for: the renewed belief in miracles.

Lenore entered the room with a tray of gingerbread cookies and set the platter on the small table. She planted her fists on her ample hips. “Now, there’s a right nice sight. Dylan, why don’t you run into the kitchen and get yourself some milk to have with these cookies?”

Dylan nodded and trotted out of the parlor.

“So when’s the wedding day?” Lenore asked without preamble.

Libby’s mouth gaped. “How did you know?”

“It’s as obvious as the nose on your face.” Her round face split with a wide smile. “Why, I told Eli the other night, I’d eat my petticoats if you two didn’t get hitched by spring. Course, he didn’t believe me. He told me to stop meddling, but that’d be like asking a bear not to scratch. Besides, I knew you two would be good for each other.”

“We’re planning on the first,” Matt said.

“When you two make a decision, you sure don’t lollygag about. Next week! Heavens to Betsy, I’ll never have enough time to get everything organized. I’ve got to make a cake, send out the word and get folks to bring something for the dinner afterward, make sure the musicians get there. Goodness, and we can’t forget about a wedding dress!”

“Calm down, Lenore. We don’t plan on having a large wedding. Right, Matt?” Libby glanced at him.

His lips twitched. “As long as you’re there, it’s big enough for me.”

“But the whole town will want to come see the sheriff and the schoolteacher get hitched. I bet you even Adelaide Beidler will want to come. Lord knows, she wouldn’t want to miss a chance to spread some gossip.” Lenore enfolded Libby in a motherly embrace. “Congratulations, honey. You’re getting the second-best man in all of Deer Creek.”

She released her and Libby grinned. “We’re hoping to adopt Dylan once we’re married.”

“Of course you would.” Lenore plucked a linen handkerchief from the valley between her bountiful breasts and dabbed her eyes. “I’m so happy for you.”

Dylan came into the room. “What’s wrong, Mrs. Potts? Why are you crying?”

“Because I got some wonderful news.”

Matt went to Dylan and squatted down in front of him. “Remember when we talked about the three of us living together?”

The boy nodded. “You said we couldn’t because you two weren’t married.”

“That’s right, but we’ve changed our minds. Miss O’Hanlon and I are going to get married—then you can live with both of us.”

“You mean like a real family?” Dylan asked.

Libby joined them. “Would that be all right with you?”

“Yippee!” He wrapped one skinny arm around Libby’s neck and the other around Matt, pulling them into a tight circle. “I’ll be just like the other kids.” Dylan drew back and his thin face sobered. “What about my ma? Won’t she be mad?”

Matt nodded. “She won’t be happy about you living with us and she might try to fight it, but we’re going to make it all legal so she can’t ever take you back.”

Anguish shadowed his eyes, and his lower lip trembled. “Will she hit me?”

Libby empathized with his anxiety. She’d gained her freedom because she’d been driven to murder, but Sadie’s presence would be a continual reminder of Dylan’s past. “She’s still your mother and you’ll see her around town. If you want to talk to her, make sure the sheriff or I are with you. We won’t let her hurt you again.”

Dylan glanced at Matt.

“Don’t look so worried, partner,” Matt reassured. “Things’ll work out.”

The unease slid from the boy’s features. “When can we be a family?”

Libby smiled up at Matt. “One more week.”

“Not nearly enough time,” Lenore muttered. “Come sit and have some gingerbread, and we can start making plans.”

The schoolhouse rang with voices and laughter from the milling crowd. The holiday fragrances of cinnamon and pine were underscored by a potpourri of perfumed water and hair tonic. Colorful dresses added rainbow splashes to the gaily decorated room. It appeared most of the townspeople had come out to celebrate Christmas Eve.

Standing beside a table laden with food, Libby ran a nervous hand down her close-fitting jade silk basque and smoothed the matching skirt over her hips. Wearing a red dress that gave her the appearance of a ripe tomato, Lenore approached Libby.

“I knew that dress would look beautiful on you. You don’t need any of those fancy flounces or bows with that figure of yours,” Lenore remarked.

“Thank you, but I shouldn’t have accepted it. It must have cost dearly.”

Lenore flapped a pudgy hand. “It’s your Christmas
present, and you would’ve hurt my feelings if you hadn’t taken it.”

Libby gave Lenore a quick hug. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome for the hundredth time. Now relax and enjoy yourself. Matt should be here anytime now.”

Libby sighed. “He said he’d be here at seven-thirty. I wish he could have come earlier.”

“Eli said Matt had a few things to do at the jailhouse.”

Libby grinned wryly. “I’m acting like a silly schoolgirl.”

Lenore shook her head. “Nope, like a woman in love with her man.”

The buzz of voices dwindled to a few murmurs and Libby glanced up. Matt had arrived. Everyone in the room faded into obscurity as her attention focused on the powerfully built man. A black broadcloth coat spanned his wide shoulders, and matching trousers hugged his muscular legs. His rugged face appeared hesitant, and Libby sensed his discomfort. His veiled gaze searched the room and lit upon her. His features relaxed.

Lenore gave Libby a gentle shove. “Well, go on over to him and really give Mrs. Beidler something to talk about.”

Although the noise in the room increased, Libby knew she was the focus of attention.

“Good evening, Sheriff,” she greeted formally.

“Howdy, Miss O’Hanlon,” Matt said with a Texas drawl. His admiring gaze traveled down her figure and settled on her face. “Mighty fine-looking duds you’re wearing tonight.”

“Thank you. You look pretty dapper yourself. Why don’t you take off your hat?”

Matt plucked the brown Stetson from his head and hung it on a nearby peg. A tawny curl spilled across his weathered forehead, and Libby resisted the impulse
to brush back the unruly lock. His eyes glittered, as if he could read her mind.

He laid a firm hand against her spine and ushered her through the throng; a swath opened for them to pass.

“Howdy Matt,” a deep voice greeted.

Matt paused and shook the blacksmith’s monstrous hand. “Merry Christmas, Harley.” He turned to the petite woman beside him. “Mrs. Davis.”

“Hello Sheriff, Miss O’Hanlon,” Janie Davis said, a twinkle in her hazel eyes. She turned to Libby. “You know, Harley always threatened to haul the sheriff to these shindigs, but looks like things might be different now.”

Matt shrugged. “There might be a change or two in the air.”

Harley grinned broadly and slapped Matt’s back. “Glad to hear it.”

Mrs. Davis turned to Libby. “Are you still interested in one of Beauty’s puppies?”

She nodded.

“They should be old enough in a couple weeks to leave their mother.”

“Could I bring Dylan by tomorrow to pick one out?” Libby asked.

“That’d be fine,” Mrs. Davis assured. “He’ll get first choice.”