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  “Not as long as you do what I asked.” Sheriff Daniels sucked in a long breath. “I’m risking my own job, bending the program this way, so understand the trust I’m putting in you. Will you do it?”

  “Yes.” He’d be a fool not to take the opportunity.

  After walking over to a safe in the corner, Sheriff Daniels unlocked it. He retrieved a belt with two holsters, a six-shooter in each. “Here you go. Let’s go get you married.”

  Garrison secured the belt around his waist. He patted the guns, feeling as though he’d been reunited with two lost friends. Following the sheriff, he was surprised when they walked past the church and came to a stop in front of one of Mucksbe’s largest homes.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Pastor Mire closed his Bible, ending the wedding ceremony. Numb was the only way Emma Lee could describe her thoughts and feelings. She’d recited the vows, only vaguely aware of the words she spoke. She was even less aware of the man she’d just married, barely remembering his name.

  Mrs. Grant embraced her, whispering in her ear, “You’ll be in our prayers. When all this is over, you’ll have a home with us.”

  An automatic response triggered. “Thank you.”

  Kitty handed her a valise. “The sheriff’s wife took care of packing clothing for you.”

  “Are you ready?” the normally gruff sheriff asked her, his voice full of understanding.

  “Yes.” Emma Lee didn’t look at her new husband. Sheriff Daniels would escort her several miles out of town since he thought it would be best if she and Garrison were not seen together.

  Everything was kept quiet as to not raise suspicions from Luther. Were he to inquire about her, he’d be told Emma was too distraught to remain in Mucksbe, even for the funerals and had gone to stay with family until she could face the tragic reality. The story wasn’t too far from the truth. All she wanted was to curl into a ball, fall asleep and wake up to find today had been a nightmare.

  Her husband didn’t say a word to her after the ceremony, and she watched him slip out the back door. Would he follow behind? Ahead? What did it matter? Her parents were dead, her beau was the suspect, and she couldn’t stay in town for their funeral.

  “Time to go.” Sheriff Daniel laid a gentle hand on her back, guiding her toward the door.

  Only as they reached a wagon, did she realize that he’d taken her bag and carried it. No one else had come outside, no grand farewells of sending her off with her groom like she’d dreamed about for years. She wasn’t even leaving her own wedding with her husband. But then, it wasn’t a real wedding, was it? Legal though it was, could a marriage that began with the intention to dissolve soon really be considered valid?

  A hammer beat inside her head. It hurt too bad to think of such things. Tonight she’d sleep, and tomorrow she’d go on as normal. There’d be no thoughts of her parents even if she had to trick her mind. If she pondered on their murders, she’d go crazy.

  They rode in silence, the land around them becoming more desolate with each turn of the wheels. The area surrounding her made Mucksbe look like a metropolis and her grief briefly abated to wonder how she would survive. She knew nothing but life’s luxuries—for the indefinite future, she’d have none.

  In the distance, she spotted two horses, one with a rider. She squinted her eyes and recognized Garrison.

  “This is where I leave you.” Sheriff Daniels pulled on the reins to slow the horses. “I’ll be riding my mare back to town. Garrison will drive the wagon the rest of the way.”

  “What of his horse?” It was an inconsequential question but kept her from asking what she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  “Garrison has her well trained, I’m sure. She’ll follow along—these are workhorses pulling the wagon—it’s wise to keep his mare with you in case the need for a quick departure should arise.” Looking at her, a fatherly gaze came over him. “There are supplies in the back of the wagon that will see you through. My deputy or I will come out once a week to check on you, but we can’t risk more than that without raising Luther’s suspicion.”

  Emma Lee gulped. The sheriff talked like she’d be out here for a long time—she’d expected a week, two at the most. “My parents…” Sorrow rose in her throat, and she had to pause. “Please, make sure they get the best farewell.”

  “I will Miss Abingdon.” Sympathetic eyes looked back at her, and she wondered if he purposely used her surname, not that of her now-husband. “Frank Doolittle will keep the bank going until further arrangements can be made and Herb Tarleton will look after the estate.”

  “Can they be trusted?” She still couldn’t reconcile Luther as a murderer, but the doubt had been cast. It would be hard to trust again, even if it was the bank’s manager whom she’d known for years, and Mucksbe’s other lawyer, whom she’d known even longer since the day her family arrived in town.

  “I believe so.” As if reading her thoughts, Sheriff Daniels continued to speak. “There are more good people in this world than bad.” He inclined his head toward Garrison. “That man is a solid one beneath his wild side. You’ll be in capable hands.”

  If he is so good, how’d he end up in jail, as part of the Freedom Brides program? Everything had happened so fast, and in her mourning, she hadn’t thought clearly enough to ask. She’d simply done whatever Mrs. Grant and the sheriff had advised.

  The wagon came to a stop and Garrison approached them. He slid off his horse, nodding a greeting to the sheriff. She gave him a sideways glance, too uncomfortable to make eye contact with him. He wore two guns at his hip, black pants, and black vest with a white shirt underneath. Danger emanated from him, but peculiarly, she didn’t feel afraid. Not of him at least.

  Sheriff Daniels patted her shoulder before stepping down from the conveyance. “We’ll all be praying for you.”

  “Thank you,” she mumbled, then returned her stare straight ahead.

  Garrison whispered to his mare before taking the sheriff’s spot on the wagon. “Ready?”

  It was his first word spoken to her, outside their recited vows. Not an ounce of apprehension was in his tone, and she envied that. Then it made her unreasonably angry. That he was so calm while her life was in upheaval.

  “Do I have a choice?” she barked, knowing she wasn't acting fairly.

  But if life were fair, her parents would still be alive, Luther would be asking for her hand in marriage, and she wouldn’t be married to a stranger about to live on a forsaken land.

  Her new husband clenched his jaw and didn’t say another word. Picking up the reins, he directed the team of horses into motion, remaining entirely silent the rest of the way.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “What did I get myself into?” Garrison muttered under his breath.

  “Speak clearly.” Emma Lee scowled. “How am I to understand a word you say if you don’t enunciate?”

  “It was nothing.” He gazed ahead, relieved to see a shack in the distance. It had to be his new home unless they’d gone in a wrong direction.

  “Obviously it was something or you wouldn’t have spoken in the first place.”

  He shook his head. The distraught, demure Emma Lee he’d married several hours ago had vanished, replaced by the sharp-tongued girl he’d expected. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself of the tragedies that befell her in the last six hours, which allowed some leeway in her behavior.

  But if she continued with it, he’d be forced to say something. Their arrangement wasn’t pleasant for either of them, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be civil to the other. They’d be sharing close quarters for who knew how long, so they might as well learn to get along—grieving or not.

  The problem was, he’d seen how she treated people. He’d been in the mercantile when the plump Allison Scherer walked in and Emma Lee and her friend had called her names. He’d seen her raise her voice at the diner, verbally lashing the young new waitress and demanding a different plate because her food wasn’t warm. Ever since he came to Mucks
be six months ago, he’d seen evidence of the spoiled girl Emma Lee was and didn’t think her current behavior was due strictly to mourning.

  At least she’d been quiet most of the ride. Of course, he hadn’t initiated conversation either, hoping for silence.

  They were close enough to see the building clearly now, and Garrison rose a finger to point in its direction. “I think that’s our house.”

  “Where?” From the corner of his eye, he saw Emma Lee looking all around.

  “Right there, the only building within sight.” He turned just in time to catch the look of disgust on her face.

  Her pert little nose scrunched up until he thought it resembled that of a pig. “You can’t be serious?”

  “Not fancy enough for you?” He couldn’t help the jibe—all his life, he’d seen the privilege look down their noses at anything they deemed beneath them and it grated his nerves.

  “My family’s thoroughbreds have better lodging.” A shudder—of disgust, he presumed by her tone—ran through her, sending visible tremors through her body.

  “This is how most people live out here, away from town.” He took a long breath before he continued, lest he give out too much information. “Besides, I’m sure we won’t be living here long.”

  After a few more minutes, Garrison brought the wagon to a stop in front of the house. Up close, its condition looked better than it had from a distance, which surprised him since the opposite was usually the case.

  “Stay put until I check out the inside.”

  “I’m coming with you.” Defiance gleamed in Emma Lee’s blue eyes.

  He bit his cheek, agitated with himself that he’d noticed her eyes, let alone that he thought they were prettier than the Texas sky on a clear day. Beauty meant nothing if there was nothing with which to back the lovely vision.

  “Suit yourself.”

  Emma Lee sat in the wagon, making no motion to move down. He had half a mind to leave her up there, knowing there were likely varmints inside he’d have to chase out. It wasn’t that he cared if Emma Lee saw them or not, but he didn’t want to hear her whine about them for the rest of the afternoon.

  She coughed and looked at him expectantly.

  Grudgingly, he went to her side and lifted her down, but only because his Mama taught him to respect a woman, no matter the circumstance. It was a shame Mama was rarely on the receiving end of those manners. He shoved the thought aside—it wouldn’t do to dwell on thoughts of the past and the injustice of it all.

  With a hand on her back, he guided her to the door. He kicked it open, expecting to need the extra force to open it. It hadn’t been necessary—the last occupants hadn’t secured the home. Perusing the interior, he came to the conclusion they must have left in a hurry. A couple of plates and a tin mug sat on a shelf nailed to the wall. A tattered quilt was spread over a bed in the corner. There wasn’t much other furniture except a rough-hewn table near the kitchen area and a single wooden chair next to the bed.

  It wasn’t much, but it would suffice for his needs. He’d learned at an early age not to need or expect much. Darting his gaze to Emma Lee, he saw her pupils widen with dismay. A stab of sympathy struck him, taking him by surprise. Even if he tried, he wouldn’t be able to empathize with her, for he’d never known a privileged life, but he reckoned this living arrangement wouldn’t be easy for her, on top of handling everything else that had happened.

  Maybe distracting her thoughts would help. “I wonder what the story is of the people who left all this behind.”

  Emma Lee crossed her arms over her chest. “They probably realized what a horrid place it was.”

  So that hadn’t worked. Garrison bit his tongue before he could make a smart retort. Thank goodness this wasn’t a real marriage meant to last forever. He pitied the man who joined with Emma Lee for life.

  A loud, shrill scream pierced his ears. The next thing he knew, Emma Lee was clenching his arms, her fingernails dug so far into him they were probably drawing blood through his shirt.

  “What in tarnation was that about?” He looked at his wife, her face pale as snow.

  She gasped several times before finally getting a word out. “M...mou...mouse.”

  His gaze traveled around the room until he saw a field mouse in the rear corner, frantically running. “That’s nothing. Just a little mouse trying to find his way outside.”

  “I am not staying in a rodent-filled house.” Gone was spontaneous vulnerability, replaced with her icy countenance.

  The absurdity of the entire day finally struck him, and he burst into loud chuckles.

  “This is not funny.” Her bottom lip stuck out in a pout and her eyes were smoky with indignation.

  “Maybe not, but you’re the one who insisted on coming inside with me before I could check out the place and rid it of any vermin.”

  Her bottom lip began to tremble and her eyes became spouts for a barrage of tears. He stood there immobile, rendered helpless by her sobs. Dealing with a crying lady was something outside of his realm of expertise.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Stop crying. Mortification wrapped Emma Lee in its clutches. No matter how hard she tried, the sobs would not cease. Garrison stood beside her and after several minutes, he patted her shoulder in an awkward touch. She tilted her head, peeking through the slits of fingers that covered her eyes. He looked as uncomfortable as she felt.

  To further her embarrassment, the cries turned to laughter. Garrison was sure to think her a daft female, and she wasn’t sure she’d disagree. Certainly she wasn’t acting like a woman with a sound mind. But the look on his face was priceless—it reminded her of a lost puppy dog and most of the arrogance he’d displayed moments ago had vanished.

  “Everything all right?” Both eyebrows rose to form a V-shape while his lips were twisted into something akin to both a frown and smile.

  She wiped at her cheeks, drying the fallen tears. “You must think I’m silly.”

  “Among other things.” Garrison’s mouth went straight.

  Emma Lee couldn’t tell if he was kidding with her or not. “Today has not been easy. I didn’t mean to unload my grief onto you through my tears and boorish attitude. For that, I am sorry.”

  His head jerked backward and surprise flitted across his face before he reigned it in. “I remember when my mother died. Grief isn’t an emotion that always makes sense.”

  Something within her stirred. Her vision was still blurry from the pools of moisture that hovered above her bottom eyelids, so she blinked once. For the first time, she took a good look at Garrison Gray, the stranger she’d married for her own protection. He had dark brown hair, almost to a point of being called black. The end strands curled though the rest of his hair was straight. His nose was straight and his jawline strong. In most circles, he’d be considered handsome.

  The air between them shifted and something changed. Dark eyes looked back at her, but she couldn’t read them. What was he thinking?

  Garrison put a hand on her back, guiding her outside. “Wait out here and I’ll make sure there are no other surprises inside. Should you see anyone riding nearby, come in immediately.”

  “I’ll be fine. I won’t scream at a mouse again.” A need to prove she wasn’t a ninny overcame her. She squared her shoulders. “What can I do to help?”

  He removed his hand from her back and looked at her with hesitation written on his face. “Do you know how to clean? The place could use a good dusting and sweeping.”

  Of course, she knew how to clean. A sharp retort almost slipped off her tongue, but she bit it back in time. “I can do that.”

  “In that case, I’ll start unloading the wagon.” He walked over to it, reached behind a wood sidewall and brought out her valise. His gaze traveled up and down the length of her. “You might need this first. I doubt you want to sully your fancy dress.”

  “This? It’s just a day dress.” She pinched the pink fabric, not thinking anything of her defense.

  Covering hi
s mouth from a mocking cough, Garrison looked at her with denigration. “You’re not living the life of a spoiled debutante for the time being. Out here, people dress for practicality, not high fashion.”

  An embarrassed blush tinged her cheeks. She didn’t understand Garrison. A few minutes ago, he’d been kind, almost compassionate. Not even moments later, it was gone, replaced with a coldness, even worse than the apathy he’d projected earlier. His opinion shouldn’t matter, but his words stung.

  All her life people had fawned over her, wanted to be near her. She knew some of the attention came from her beauty and family’s position, but she’d always believed herself to be a pleasant person. Unaccustomed to blatant dislike, she became even more determined to prove her worth. She took the bag from him and walked inside with all the grace she could muster, foregoing the stomping she’d rather have displayed.

  Inside her new but temporary home, she set her valise on the bed and glanced around, looking for something she could use as a broom. Once she’d completed that task, she would dust. If it broke her back, she would have this place spotless if for no other reason than to prove to Garrison she had substance.

  She looked down at her dress. Already the bottom hem was covered in dirt. Maybe she should change first, but into what? All her dresses would be equal to the one she wore, but maybe there’d be an apron in there since it would be expected she’d have to cook. Her hand froze on the valise’s handle. She would be expected to cook. The thought repeated itself, sending trepidation down her spine. She’d never prepared a meal, not even once. Swallowing the panic, she focused on one thing at a time.