The Lawman Claims His Bride. Renee Ryan
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he still the man she remembered?
It was disloyal to think otherwise.
As if sensing her change in mood, Logan stopped pacing and turned to face her. “Megan, everything’s going to be all right. I promise.”
How could he be so confident? How could either of these men stand here and give her such promises? She’d lost a part of her life last night and everything hinged on her remembering those forgotten hours.
“What if I never remember?” she whispered to no one in particular.
“You will,” Logan said. “You just need time to heal.”
Time. There was that awful word again. Time had kept her and Logan apart. Time threatened them now.
She swallowed back a sob, chagrined at her inability to contain her emotions.
Logan moved closer and searched her face as though he could pull the missing memories forth by his will alone.
If only he could.
She knew she was letting him down. Yet some other instinct, something buried inside her lost memories, hinted that the blackness in her mind was about protecting Logan.
How could that be?
“Megan,” Dr. Shane interrupted her thoughts. “Focus on getting well. Once your body heals, your mind will follow.”
Logan took her hands in his. “And until then I’m going to make sure you’re safe.”
Those were the same words Sheriff Scott had uttered to her last night. Fighting a sense of defeat, Megan lowered her head and sighed. “You’re going to leave me in here until you find the real killer.”
It made the most sense, even if she couldn’t bear the thought of another night in this cold, drafty, depressing jail cell.
“No.” Logan shook his head fiercely. “I’m not going to leave you locked up like a common criminal. I went to Mattie’s this morning. I have proof of your innocence.”
“You…you do?”
“Yes.” But he didn’t expand, which made her wonder if he really had proof or if he was still basing his assumption on what he thought he knew about her.
Before she could press him for more information, for anything to give her a sense of the truth hidden deep within her mind, he steered the conversation in a different direction. “As soon as I make the arrangements I’m going to take you home.”
Home? No. No. They couldn’t take that risk. “I can’t go to Charity House,” she said in a panicked voice. “We can’t put the children in danger.”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m taking you to my home, where I grew up.”
His words took a moment to settle over her. “You want to take me to your family’s ranch?” Pure joy spread through her. Logan came from a large, happy family with a mother. And a father. And lots of siblings.
“It’s the best solution,” he said. “The only one.”
Glory.
“Will that be all right with you?” he asked.
She wanted to jump off the cot and fling herself into his arms. She wanted to tell him, yes, yes, yes.
But reality held her back. She was the daughter of a prostitute, raised in an orphanage with children from similar backgrounds as hers.
His family might never accept her.
Then again, surely the people who’d raised this wonderful, kind, godly man would have equally gracious hearts.
“I…” Not sure what to say, she lifted her arms in the air and he immediately tugged her into his embrace.
She rested her cheek against his hard, muscular chest and breathed in his scent.
For the first time since she’d walked into Mattie’s brothel yesterday Megan felt at peace. “Yes, Logan, I want to go home with you.”
“Good.” He blew out a long breath then set her away from him. “We’ll leave immediately. We’ll—”
“Logan, no.” Sheriff Scott slammed into the jail cell, his lips twisting at a furious angle. “You can’t take her away.”
At the sound of those five angry words, spoken with such conviction, Megan’s hope shattered.
Sheriff Scott wasn’t going to let her leave with Logan.
That meant she would have to spend another night in jail, alone, with no relief in sight.
How would she ever bear the torment?
Chapter Six
Logan had been shot once. In his leg. The bullet had seared through his flesh with a burning agony he’d never experienced before that moment. Yet compared to the pain sweeping through him now as he stared at the anguish on Megan’s face, the bullet wound seemed a mere pinprick.
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