Hawk's Way: Carter & Falcon: The Cowboy Takes A Wife. Joan Johnston
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be able to use it, so it would only become one more danger.
Desiree was still snuggled under the warm covers when she heard the patter of bare feet on the hardwood floor. Her door opened and Nicole came trotting over to the four-poster.
“Where are your slippers, young lady?” Desiree chastised as she hauled Nicole up and under the covers with her.
Nicole promptly put her icy feet on Desiree’s thigh.
“Your feet are freezing!”
Nicole giggled.
Desiree took her daughter’s feet in her hands and rubbed them to warm them up. “Today’s the day Mr. Carter and I are getting married,” she reminded Nicole.
“Is he going to be my daddy now?”
“Uh-huh.” Desiree hadn’t asked how Carter felt about being called Daddy. Surely he wouldn’t mind. After all, being called Daddy didn’t require any effort on his part.
One of her major concerns over the past week had been how well Carter would get along with Nicole. During his visits he was brusque if forced to speak at all, but mostly he held himself aloof from Nicole. She supposed that was only natural for a man who apparently hadn’t spent time around children. And a man his age—he must be thirty-three or thirty-four—probably didn’t remember what it was like to be a child. Obviously he would need a little time to adjust.
Desiree glanced at the clock and realized that by the time she put a roast in the oven for their post-wedding dinner, she would barely have enough time to dress herself and Nicole and get into Casper before they were due in the judge’s chambers. “We’d better get moving, or we’re going to be late.”
Desiree took a deep breath and let it out. For better or worse, her decision had been made. Whatever price she had to pay for her own and her daughter’s safety was worth it. Marriage, even the duty of the marriage bed, was not too great a sacrifice.
Carter was having second thoughts of his own. He paced the empty hallway of the courthouse in Casper, waiting for his bride. The sound of his bootsteps on the marble floors echoed off the high ceilings. The loneliness of the years he had spent wandering kept him from bolting. Roots. Finally he had found a place where he could belong. He would settle down on the Rimrock and be a husband and father. Again.
He paused in midstep. The sudden tightness in his chest, the breathlessness he felt, made him angry. He should have put the past behind him long ago. Beginning today he would. He wouldn’t think about it anymore. He wouldn’t let it hurt him anymore. It was over and done.
He looked up, and there she was.
“Hello. I’m sorry I’m late,” Desiree said.
His gaze shifted quickly from the scar that twisted her smile to the first place he could think to look—his watch. “You’re right on time.”
“I didn’t think I’d make it. We were late getting up and—”
“Are you going to be my daddy?”
“Nicole!” Desiree clapped a hand over her daughter’s mouth. “She’s a little excited.”
“So am I,” Carter admitted with a wry smile. “Shall we get on with it?” He snagged Desiree by the elbow and headed in the direction of the judge’s chambers. She was wearing that moth-eaten coat again. He wondered what she had on under it. He didn’t have to wait long to satisfy his curiosity. The judge’s chambers were uncomfortably warm, and Desiree slipped the black wool off her shoulders and laid it over the back of a brass-studded maroon leather chair.
She smiled at Carter again, and he forced his eyes down over the flowered dress she was wearing. It was obviously the best she had, but wrong for the season, and it showed years of wear. He felt a spurt of guilt for not offering her the money for a new dress. But since she apparently didn’t know about his wealth, he preferred to keep it that way. Then, if feelings developed between them, he would be sure they weren’t motivated by the fact he had a deep pocket.
Desiree couldn’t take her eyes off Carter. She was stunned by his appearance. In the first place, he had shaved off the shadow of beard. His blunt jaw and sharp, high cheekbones gave his face an almost savage look. His tailored Western suit should have made him look civilized, but instead it emphasized the power in his broad shoulders and his over-six-foot height. “You look…wonderful,” she said.
For some reason, Carter appeared distressed by the compliment. Then she realized he hadn’t said anything about how she looked. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out why. She had done nothing to hide the scar on her face. She had seen how his eyes skipped away from it. But he was still here. And apparently ready to go through with the wedding.
The judge entered his chambers in a flurry of black robes. “I’ve only got a few minutes,” he said. “Are you two ready?”
“There are three of us, Judge Carmichael,” Carter said, nodding in Nicole’s direction.
“So there are,” the judge said. He peered over the top of his black-rimmed bifocals at the little girl. “Hello there. What’s your name?”
Nicole retreated behind her mother’s skirts.
“Her name is Nicole,” Desiree said.
“All right, Nicole. Let’s get your mommy married, shall we? Why don’t the two of you stand together in front of my desk?” the judge instructed Carter and Desiree. He called his secretary and the court bailiff to act as witnesses.
Desiree suddenly felt as shy as her daughter and wished there were a skirt she could retreat behind. Carter reached out to draw her to his side, but she quickly scooted around him so the unblemished part of her face would be toward him while they said their vows. She wished she could have been beautiful for him. It would have made all this so much easier. But she wouldn’t have needed a husband if things had been different.
“Are we all ready?” the judge asked.
“Just a minute.” Carter searched the room for a moment. “There they are.” He crossed to a bookshelf and picked up a small bouquet of flowers. “When I arrived your secretary offered to put these in here for me.”
Desiree stared at the bouquet of wildflowers garnished with beautiful white silk ribbons that Carter was holding out to her. A flush skated across her cheekbones. The thoughtfulness of his gesture made her feel more like a bride. It made everything seem more real. Her heart thumped a mile a minute, and she put a hand up as though to slow it down.
She stared at Carter, seeing wariness—not warmth—in his blue eyes as she reached out to take the flowers. “Thank you, Carter.”
His features relaxed and the wariness fled, replaced by what looked suspiciously like relief. Unfortunately, Carter’s trek for the flowers had taken him across the room, and when he returned he ended up on her right side, the side with the scar. She hid her dismay, but lowered her chin so her hair fell across her face.
“Now are we ready?” the judge asked impatiently.
Desiree nodded slightly. She felt Carter’s fingertips on her chin. He tipped her face upward until he was looking her in the eye.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes,” she croaked.
“Keep your chin up,” he murmured. He turned to the judge and said, “We’re ready.”
Desiree appreciated Carter’s encouraging words but had no idea how to tell him so. She heard very little of what the judge said. She was too conscious of the man standing beside her. She could smell a masculine cologne and feel the heat of him along her right side. On her other side, she was aware of Nicole’s death grip on her hand.
“The ring?” the judge asked.
“Here.” Carter produced a simple gold band, which he slipped on Desiree’s left hand.
He