Page 20 of The Marshal's Bride
“Pick up some sugar as well.”
“Anything else, your lordship?” Whitney grinned.
Sam rubbed a hand down his tired face. He might try to sneak in a nap a little later. “Yeah. How long did it take your wife to say yes when you asked her to marry you?”
Whitney’s eyes widened and he sat back down at the table, pounding his cup against the wood. “Jumping Jehoshaphat! With everything going on, you managed to propose to her?” Sam nodded. “And did she answer you?”
“No.” The word was harsh on his tongue. “She didn’t say anything.” He knew he gave her the opportunity to think about it, but why did disappointment wash over him that she didn’t at least saysomething.
He would feel more settled one way or the other, but he’d said his piece and now he needed to wait. They’d spent enough time together in the last couple of months, that he knew she would turn what he said over in her head, until she had exhausted all her options and was sure of her decision.Until she was sure of him.
Regardless of what she decided, he would still protect her and Hope.He couldn’t do anything else.His feelings for them would always take a second priority to the job he had to do. It was ingrained in him to do so.
Whitney picked up Sam’s cup and threw his coffee out the window as well, before tossing the cup back to him. Going to the closet where the medicinal supplies were kept, he pulled out a brown bottle from the top shelf and returned to the table to pour a fingerbreadth for each of them.
“For medicinal purposes only,” he said, lifting the enamel mug back and downing the drink in one gulp.
“For medicinal purposes.” Sam drank his.
Whitney capped the bottle and pushed it aside. “To be fair, Justine has a lot going on at the moment.”
“I know.” Sam picked up his cup and twirled it on his finger. “You might not know this about me, but I’m not very good at waiting.”
“You also don’t seem to make a lot of sense. A shot of whiskey this early in the morning, is never the best way to start the day.” Justine’s voice cut through the air, startling both lawmen.
“We’re getting a bell.” Whit threw his hands up in the air. “I’ll let you two talk.” He picked up the bottle and walked it back over to the cabinet. Placing his hat on his head, he turned to Justine. “Mrs. McGuthry, if you’re here to say yes, is there any way that I can convince you to do so today? We have a problem that needs to be taken care of, and Sam being distracted isn’t going to help anyone. Man, I wish there was a place to get coffee in this town.” He gave Justine a little wink and headed out the door. “I’ll be at the livery when you’re done here, Sam.”
They both watched him leave, before Sam turned weary eyes on Justine. She looked lovely this morning, and his throat tightened thinking about the kiss that they had shared.
“I don’t want to be a kept woman,” she blurted, fisting her hands in front of her.
He couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on his face as he pushed up out of his chair and guided her to the table, quickly taking the seat next to her. His hands itched to touch her, to hold her in his arms and feel her warmth.
Justine took a deep breath and he saw her swallow hard. “I like you Sam, and Hope is very attached to you. I’ve already buried one husband, and I don’t want to do it again. I don’t want to have to start over again.” She paused and he nodded, encouraging her to continue. “I want to open a cafe or a very small diner. I want to be established, to settle down, and have roots. I want friends and a sense of community. I don’t want to be put in a corner to have babies and make a home, and be helpless once more if something happens to you.”
He couldn’t keep quiet, laughter bubbled up out of him and color flushed her cheeks. “I don’t want you to be anyone but you. I have no idea about this marriage thing. My father was a lousy husband and father. I said I wouldn’t get married because I didn’t want to be like him. I am afraid of being like him.” When her brow wrinkled, he cupped her face and smoothed the creases with his thumb. “I won’t be a lousy husband, no matter what I believe. I want to marry you, Justine, for a lot of reasons. Mrs. Chapman and I had a long chat the other day, and she got through my thick skull about some of the ways I can support you. My name alone protects you and Hope. I also told you yesterday that you can get the building you want. If you need additional money, I’m more than happy to contribute, but it will be yours. I’m here to walk with you and not worry about what anyone says. I meant what I said. If what you need is time and space, I’m here to give it to you and nothing must change beyond your last name and other people’s perceptions.”
Her hand came up to her lips and he thought those might just be tears shimmering in her eyes.
“What happens if I say no?” She all but whispered the words.
His other hand came up to frame her face, thumbs swiping away the moisture that had leaked down her cheeks.
“Sweetheart, if you say no, then I’m still going to be right here. I can’t watch you marry someone else. My heart won’t take it. Eventually I’ll move on, but until then, you’ll always know exactly where to find me. I promise.”
Her head started nodding in his hands, more tears streaming down her cheeks and over his fingers clutching her cheeks.
“Yes.” She coughed, then spoke more clearly. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
That was all he needed to hear. He stood, yanking her from her seat and pulled her into his embrace. He lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers.
Once.
Twice.
Pulling back, he reluctantly released her.
“Then let’s go see your cousin. Whitney isn’t wrong, we are working on a case at the moment.”
