Susan Mallery - Justin's Bride

She wouldn’t have been more shocked if he’d asked her to take off her dress and parade around in her petticoats. “I can’t. What would people—”

“Think,” he finished grimly. “Stupid of me to ask.”

“That’s not fair. No one I know would be familiar with a saloon girl.”

He stepped into the hallway. “Tell me, Megan, does it get cold and lonely being perfect?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, he simply walked away. She stared after him, biting her lower lip and fighting the tears. He wasn’t being reasonable. He wanted too much. And he was right. Her world was much colder and emptier than he could ever imagine.

* * *

Justin stormed along the boardwalk, then stomped through the mud on his way back to his office. Damn Megan for her heartlessness. He pulled his mouth into a straight line and barely had the good manners to nod as one of the new settlers in the area greeted him.

She couldn’t risk her precious reputation to ask a few questions about a dead girl. Laurie Smith had never hurt anyone; she’d been the one hurt.

His steps slowed as he remembered the look on Megan’s face as she’d tonelessly spoken the words that had proven his innocence. That Laurie knew Justin’s form in the dark because he’d bedded her. More than once.

He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He’d been so young, then. So infatuated with Megan, so determined to do the right thing. But night after night of kissing her and nothing more had left him as randy as a stallion teased by a mare in heat. He’d taken his release with Laurie because she was young and smelled sweet and because if he closed his eyes, he could pretend her curves were Megan’s. He would have cut out his heart rather than let Megan know what he’d done.

He shook his head but that didn’t banish her look of hurt and shattered pride. She was too innocent to understand the needs of a man, especially a foolish young man. She wouldn’t know that time and experience would temper those needs and that spending his coin on Laurie didn’t mean he had loved Megan less. Things would be different now. He could handle the temptation without giving in. He had developed self-control. Not that it mattered. There was nothing between him and Megan and there never would be. When his year was up, he was leaving and never looking back.

He stalked around the pile of manure by the sheriff’s office, then jerked open the door. He was so intent on forgetting Megan and trying to concentrate on her news of another murder four years ago that at first he didn’t notice Thomas cowering in front of a tall, large-boned woman.

“Sheriff,” Thomas said as Justin stepped into the office. “I’m real glad you’re back. This lady here—” he motioned to the poorly dressed older woman “—needs to speak with you.”

The woman turned her cold stare on him. There was something meanspirited about her and Justin understood why his deputy was squirming.

“Are you the last person I got to explain this to, or should I just hold my tongue a spell? I ain’t fond of chewin’ my food twice.”

“I’m the sheriff here,” he said and motioned for her to take a seat. He took off his hat and coat and hung them on the hooks by the door, then offered her his most charming smile.

The woman glared at him and sat. Her gray-streaked hair was pulled back into a bun. The afternoon sunlight caught the strands, highlighting the oily film. Her coat and dress were old and dirty, her face none too clean. Only practice kept him from recoiling when her odor drifted to him.

“How can I help you?” he asked.

Her gaze narrowed. “I’ve been to that church there. The pea-eyed lady done told me she don’t care for the likes of my trouble. Not that I blame her. I don’t care for it none, neither.”

Justin perched on the edge of his desk and looked at Thomas. The deputy shrugged. “I’m not sure, sir. We had just started our discussion when you walked in.”

“I’m gettin’ to it,” the woman said impatiently. “Girl, get over here.”

Justin saw something move away from the corner. He looked closer. With all the commotion, he hadn’t noticed the child standing so quietly. At the woman’s command, the girl stepped forward slowly, but kept her gaze firmly fixed on her shoes.

If anything, her clothing was worse than the woman’s. Her dress and coat were too short. Patches of lining showed through on the sleeves and what he saw wasn’t too thick. Her legs were thin, bare and scratched around the knees. Her littlest toe on her left foot poked through her shoe. The soles were probably missing altogether.

Anger welled up inside of him. He understood families being poor. God knows he and his mother had had their share of tough times. “Are you saying the lady at the church wasn’t willing to provide you with food and clothing for your daughter?” How like Colleen, he thought grimly. She would save all her Christian charity for the well-placed citizens of towns, the ones who needed it the least.

“She ain’t mine,” the woman said. When the girl was close enough, she grabbed the child’s arm and pulled her in front of the chair. “Say how-do.”

“Hello,” the small child whispered. Her voice was shaking. She couldn’t be more than five or six and was obviously terrified.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Justin said.

The woman scowled. “It’s real simple. That whore, Laurie Smith, paid me to take care of her bastard girl here.” The woman poked at the girl. “She’s dead, and the money’s run out. I don’t run no orphanage. I got babes of my own to feed and there ain’t no extra.”

Justin curled his fingers into his palm, just in case his temper got the better of him.

“Madam, I would thank you not to speak like that in front of the child.”

The woman stood up and shrugged. “Say all the fancy talk you want. Like I said, the church lady didn’t want nothin’ to do with the girl. I ain’t gonna keep her. As I sees it, she’s your problem.” The woman moved to the door, opened it and walked away.

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