Thirty-five

Jessie’s fear rose in stifling waves. “Mr. Parker?”

The man patted her hand. “Now don’t get in a stew. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything bad.”

She stared at the twelve men, most of whom wouldn’t meet her gaze. One man did however, and she wondered at his black eye. Couldn’t remember it being there before. Had they fought?

Judge Warner turned to the head juror. “Have you reached a verdict?”

“We have, Your Honor.”

“What say you?”

“If it please this court, by a unanimous decision, we think the defendant has been punished enough by Jeremiah Foltry. Not guilty, Your Honor.”

“What?” In his agitation, Langtree sprayed spittle on everyone who was near.

Jessie couldn’t believe she’d heard right. Had they truly given her freedom?

With a whoop and a holler, Duel lifted her up and spun around in a circle. Walt hugged Phoebe while Vicky, Roy, and Luke grinned from ear to ear.

Judge Warner’s gavel quieted their celebration. “Order in this court!”

Shaking with excitement, Jessie sank to her chair. Duel stood behind, with his hands never leaving her.

“The jury has declared you free, Mrs. Foltry. May I say in all my years as a judge that I have never heard the equal of abuse such as you described. It shook my faith in humanity. Let us all hope we have learned something today. You may go, and may peace be with you.”

* * *

“You ready to go home, Mrs. McClain?” Duel turned to his love, his shining light.

“Papa, home? Cheeba?” Two Bit spoke up from Jessie’s lap. Her Boobie perched like a sentinel by the child’s side.

They sat in a handsome surrey he’d purchased for the trip back to Tranquility. The fringed top shaded them from the hot Texas sun.

“You weren’t exactly the McClain lady I meant, but yes, darlin’, we’re going home.”

The girl twisted to see the seat behind, pointing as she chanted, “G’anpa, G’anma, G’anpa. Mine.”

Musical laughter bubbling from his Jess’s mouth topped the happiness inside. As he’d known earlier, his cup indeed overflowed.

They’d talked Phoebe into moving to Tranquility with them. And Tom Parker? The man had tied his horse to the back of the surrey beside Preacher and announced he’d tag along for the ride.

Now, Phoebe sat between Tom and Walt, proud as could be with the two gentlemen’s attentions. As different and mismatched as they each were, they were still family. All brought together by one little runt of a girl.

“Duel, are you ready to make it official?”

Jessie’s question caught him off guard. Engrossed in his thoughts, he’d lost the thread of the conversation.

“What’s that, Jess?”

“Will you truly make Marley Rose a McClain?”

“Son,” Tom joined from behind, “I’ve been meaning to bring up that very thing. You need to have the child’s name changed soon to protect you from someone taking her away. I can handle the paperwork if you’d like.”

Two Bit a McClain? Yeah, he liked the sound of that. And liked the way Jessie beamed at him, blinding him with her beauty.

“Marley Rose McClain. Has a ring to it. We’ll do it.”

“Thank you.”

He felt as though she’d dropped a sack full of gold in his lap. Getting ready to go home had taken a few days. He and Jess had used the time to renew their wedding vows. They’d completed one vow a night while they lay in each other’s arms. So far they’d gotten through love and honor, but hadn’t quite made it to obey yet. Somehow passion always overtook them before they reached that vow. Darn it. He had a feeling that one would never be within his grasp.

The glance he cast his beloved’s way spoke of all that was in his heart. His auburn-haired wife read the message and sent back a similar one of her own. No dots and dashes, just love. They were going home.

“Wagons, ho!” He raised his arm and let it drop to the northeast, signaling Roy and Vicky to follow in their wagon.

* * *

The smell of lumber and paint wafted on the breeze. Duel leaned against the pitchfork he’d used to put a fresh bed of hay in Preacher’s stall. He stood in the doorway of the barn, looking over the newly constructed addition to the farmhouse and the separate dwelling for Pop that sat a little apart.

Thanks to Tom Parker’s generosity before he departed for Austin, they had added three extra rooms and a large porch to accommodate the family’s expansion.

“Want my grandchildren to have room to grow,” Tom had explained. “And a place for me to stay when I visit, which I plan on doing very often.”

In the space between the two dwellings, Jess had planted a winter garden. Turnip tops, onions, and hardy squash plants added greenery to the black soil. Jess showed potential for growing things.

His gaze found Phoebe dozing in the rocking chair on the shaded porch. He couldn’t help the grin that made itself at home. Jessie’s mother had settled right in, as if she’d always been there, and she seemed to spend a powerful heap o’ time at Pop’s little cabin. Wouldn’t surprise him if wedding bells didn’t chime in the air soon.

“Papa, look.” Four children, all stair steps, chased Marley’s Cheeba, trying to wrestle the goat down to put a rope around her neck.

Yellow Dog, who refused to answer to anything other than Boobie, danced under their feet, yipping as if this was his last day on earth and he had to make sure he filled it to the brim.

Funny thing. For a man who’d been so dead set against changing his ways, his life had taken amazing turns. Two sons, two daughters, and a wife who thought he could lasso the moon—how lucky could a man get?

He knew there was a part of Jessie that ached for a child of her own, though it could never be. Sometimes in church he caught her staring at someone’s new babe, and it brought a lump to his throat. He’d spent many nights convincing her that it didn’t matter to him. And he planned on doing a heck of a lot more. But the pain went mighty deep. It would take a powerful amount of loving to completely heal his wife.

Suddenly he had a profound thought. Perhaps Annie’d had to die so he could rescue Jessie. Perhaps things played out the way they were meant to, and nothing could’ve changed them. His chest tightened. Perhaps he needed Jess and the children as much as they needed him.

In that instant, he found the total peace that he’d fought tooth and nail against. He accepted the fact that a man can’t always protect the ones he loves. He had to have faith and do the best he could. Jess’d taught him that.

A wagon turned off the road. He breathed easy. His Jess had returned from her errands in town.

“Whoa, there.” She pulled the team he’d bought in El Paso to a stop in front of the barn.

Late afternoon sunlight bouncing off her hair made it shimmer. A contented smile graced her kissable lips. His breath got stuck somewhere between his lungs and his mouth. She was a beauty.

A king surveying his kingdom couldn’t have been happier than he was at that moment. A queen, heirs galore, a castle, a plot of land: it couldn’t get much better.

Jess climbed from the seat, then reached into the back and lifted a picnic basket. A picnic at this time of day? It’d be dark in a little more than an hour.

“Need some help, darlin’?” He wondered why his voice had turned so husky. Always seemed to when she was near.

“No, I’ve got it.”

The way she carried the basket made him wonder if it was filled with eggs. He eyed her as she gingerly set it on a barrel. Then she came into his embrace, fitting snugly in the circle. She put her arms around his neck.

“I need a kiss, dirt farmer. Know where I could find a man who’d oblige a lady?”

“Reckon you’re looking at him, ma’am. I do a lot more than oblige. I guarantee complete satisfaction.”

“I do declare.”

She tilted her head, welcoming his mouth. He did oblige.

“Duel,” she murmured beneath his lips. Moments later, she drew back, her blue eyes staring into his. “Do you think we can fit one more?”

“One more what? What’re you talking about, Jess?”

She grabbed his hand, pulled him to the picnic basket, and opened the lid carefully. A baby no bigger than a minute lay sleeping on a soft blanket.

“One more child.”

“Great day in the morning!” The surprise had him at a loss. “You leave for a few hours and come lugging another babe home. Jesus, Jess. Don’t tell me you found it sitting at the side of the road.”

“No, silly. Doc Mabry delivered her yesterday but he lost her mother, a young, scared girl who had no one. Doc did what he could, but she died anyway. And now this wee one needs a family. Can we keep her, Duel?”

The flush on her face, the sparkle in those eyes, drove a hard bargain. She didn’t know it yet, but he’d never be able to deny her anything. His heart and soul were in her hands.

Tenderly, he touched the babe’s downy soft cheek.

“Suppose one more won’t make much difference. What are you thinkin’ of naming the little thing?”

“How about Lily?”

Her suggestion they name the girl after his mother made his chest swell. Perfect. Pop would have another Lily of the Valley, and they’d have another daughter to love and care for.

“Good choice, darlin’.” As an afterthought, he added, “From now on, would you at least warn me when we’re adding to our family? Don’t know if we can take in all the unwanted leftovers in the world.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She lifted the tiny bundle and hugged her to her breast. “I figure we can stop after ten.”

Duel rolled his eyes.

For more Linda Broday check out
the Men of Legend series

To Marry a Texas Outlaw

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