“C’mere, sweetheart, it’s all right,” he murmured, gruff with emotion, gathering me in the shelter of his arms as we stood alongside Blade. The sun had just cleared the horizon and cast us in the rose-petal flush of a summer morning. The day promised fair skies, which heartened me; at least they wouldn’t be riding in a downpour. Ax was still inside the house, chatting with Birdie and Grant, allowing us a moment of privacy for farewell.
Marshall, Marshall, Marshall. God, how I love you. I can’t live without you. I can’t even think about it.
I buried my face in the scent of his neck, gripping the material of his shirt with both hands. “Hurry back to me.”
“I will, angel. We’ll be careful.” He drew apart just enough for our eyes to meet, imparting his strength and love upon me. “We’ll be home by the day after next. Don’t stay too long on your feet and don’t lift anything heavy,” he went on, cupping my belly, making small warm circles with his hand horizontal to the earth. “Take good care of our boy.”
I forced my trembling lips to smile. “I will, I promise.”
“Give me your sweet mouth,” was his final order.
We were summarily joined by Axton, Grant, Birdie, and Celia, who held Jacob on her ample hip. The baby was bright-eyed in the morning’s rosy light, his irises the deep, rich gray of his mother’s. Marshall bent down to the baby and planted a kiss on Jacob’s downy cheek. The baby was his great-something grandfather and while Celia and Jacob would likely never be aware of the fact, I had not forgotten for a moment.
“Take care of the womenfolk, little guy,” Marshall murmured. He rose and tipped his hat at Celia, who beamed her wide, attractive smile, angling her impressive breasts in his direction in a gesture too deeply ingrained to ever overcome; she had worked for many years as a prostitute before leaving the profession altogether. I loved Celia dearly and considered her one of the noblest people I’d ever known. How amazing to be allowed the gift of looking upon the actual flesh-and-blood faces of Marshall’s ancestors. My thoughts skittered, taking an unexpected detour eastward, toward Minnesota. The Davises were alive in Landon at this very moment.
Imagine seeing them in real life.
I shivered; the notion seemed to possess weight, a premonition rather than simple speculation.
Axton hugged me next and I squeezed hard in return, this man I loved as much as a brother. “Keep safe,” I said in his ear. “Please, keep each other safe.”
“We will, I swear, Ruthie.” Ax drew away and my gut knotted at the haunted look in his green eyes, the daily strain of missing Patricia compounded by the increasing intensity of his fear for her safety.
I wanted to whisper that she was all right, that everything would be fine, but I refused to patronize. Instead I insisted, “Hurry back.”
There was a final flurry of hugs and admonitions to be safe – Marshall swept me close for one last kiss – and then he and Axton mounted Blade and Ranger, respectively. I shaded my eyes against the expanding glow of the bright June sun, my heart beating too fast. Marshall’s face grew stern with love, his eyes steady on mine as he angled Blade toward Howardsville, many miles east of the ranch.
Be safe.
I will, angel.
He and Ax paused to look back and wave before they were out of sight.
I watched until they rode out of view over the horizon.
After supper Celia and I walked down to the creek to visit Miles’s grave, arm in arm, taking our time through the knee-high grass and abundant wildflowers blooming in riots of color as summer advanced. I eyed the mountain peaks bordering the western horizon, attempting to focus on this moment rather than allowing my thoughts to scurry across the distance separating me from Marshall. I couldn’t bear to think about the coming night hours, when terrible images would swarm – stealthy figures stalking him and Axton, bullets flying from the darkness to pierce their bodies. Axton had already survived three gunshot wounds; I had assisted Birdie in stitching his first two. It had proven harrowing enough to witness Ax in pain; I refused to imagine Marshall enduring the same.
“They’ll have reached Howardsville by now, I’m certain.” Celia infused her voice with confidence, for my sake. “Don’t you fret, little Ruth, not in your condition.”
“I’m fine,” I murmured, squeezing her elbow more securely to my side, I hoped conveying my sincerity.
“I know a lie when I hear one. I promised your man I’d watch out for you, so don’t you go getting me in any trouble,” she warned, with a subtle air of good humor. “I know enough about the Rawley temper to avoid stepping straight into it.”
I couldn’t quite manage a laugh, muttering, “Damn right.”
“Besides, that man loves you like I never seen. He’ll hurry on back here, be home before you know it.”
I stretched to tiptoes and kissed her soft cheek, catching the scent of her warm skin, a lingering essence of lavender oil. Strands of hair had escaped the heavy knot at the crown of her head to drift around her flushed face.
She bestowed her soft smile. “If you’re too lonely tonight, you come right on downstairs. You can bunk in with me and the baby, if you’d like.”
“Thank you,” I murmured. “I just might. I hate sleeping alone. I never did. My sisters
