The Marshal Takes a Bride. Renee Ryan
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Katherine peered at her friend. The sympathy she saw staring back at her clogged the air in her throat, reminding her of the dark night when Laney had wrapped Katherine in her arms and held her until the tears had eventually stopped flowing.
Her friend had made things easier for Katherine then, and she wished she could give in to the offer of help now. “I have to do this myself.”
Angling her head to the side, Laney looked at Molly’s mutinous expression. “Are you sure?”
Katherine focused on her little sister. The childish rebellion brewing in her gaze warned Katherine the fight wasn’t over yet. Perhaps taking a moment to strengthen her resolve would do them both some good.
“Molly, I’m going to step in the hall with Laney for a few minutes. When I return, I want to see you completely undressed and sitting in that tub.”
The little girl opened her mouth to protest.
Katherine stopped her with a warning look.
The angry child paused, made a face and then stomped her foot. Hard.
“Molly. Grace. Taylor. That’s enough. Get undressed, now,” ordered Katherine.
Two scrawny shoulders hunched forward, and tears began pouring down the dirt-smudged cheeks. Sniffing loudly between sobs, Molly plopped onto the floor and started tugging off her shoes.
Katherine winced at the pitiful sight her sister made, but she wouldn’t give in to the tantrum. Molly needed to learn respect for the new life she had at Charity House. How could Katherine explain to the child just how blessed they were to be living at the orphanage, instead of above some filthy saloon? Or worse.
With unshed tears burning in her own eyes, Katherine motioned Laney into the long hallway that led to five bedrooms and a sitting chamber, then shut the door behind them.
As Katherine turned to look at her ally, her heart swelled with renewed gratitude for Laney’s kindness. The woman had virtually saved Katherine from the life that could have been her legacy as the daughter of the most notorious madam in town.
She opened her mouth to speak but Laney beat her to it. “That is one upset little girl in there. Are you sure you don’t want me to help you?”
Katherine shook her head. “Molly and I are still trying to get used to one another. I have to put an end to this blatant disobedience, before it goes any further.”
“I understand.” Laney headed toward the stairs, then stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “If you change your mind, I’ll be in the kitchen, helping Mrs. Smythe with supper.”
“Laney, wait.”
She pivoted around, her eyebrows lifting in inquiry. “Yes?”
While trying to gather her swirling thoughts, Katherine studied her friend. Even at eight months pregnant, her thick mahogany hair and creamy skin glowed with good health. Inside that beautiful exterior, Laney O’Connor Dupree carried a fiercely loyal heart. And Katherine never took that blessing for granted.
“Thanks for—” Katherine cocked her head toward the back of the house “—taking my side out there today.”
Laney’s amber eyes crinkled at the corners. “Think nothing of it. Trey may be Marc’s family, but in all the ways that count you’re mine.”
Katherine didn’t have the words to express her love for this woman, her sister in the faith. She had given Katherine far more than a home on that horrible night two years ago. Her friend had given her an opportunity to start over and had provided a place in the world where Katherine could exist without shame. “I…well, I just want to say thank you for supporting me.”
“Always.” Laney regarded her with a kind, patient look. “And we both know it goes both ways. I wouldn’t have Charity House if it weren’t for your help.”
Year-old memories pushed to the front of Katherine’s mind. Laney had nearly lost Charity House to a shady banker when he’d called in the loan six months earlier than the agreed-upon date.
Yet Katherine had never blamed her friend for her rash actions in trying to save their home. How could she? Laney had given her a safe haven when she’d been attacked by one of her mother’s former customers. Even when the townspeople had blamed her, rather than the man who had forced himself on her, Laney had taken Katherine in and had given her a job—one that had allowed her to give back to Charity House.
Katherine might be tainted forever, but God had blessed her. By being given Laney and the Charity House orphans, Katherine had learned she was not without worth. Thus, it was with a cheerful heart that she had helped her friend raise the money needed to save the orphanage. In the process, the other woman had found the love of her life in Marc, and because of his help, they all still had a home.
“Even if you had lost Charity House, I’d have never blamed you, Laney. You helped save my life, you—”
The sound of hiccuping sobs cut her off.
“This isn’t the time to look backward.” Her friend slid a glance toward the closed bathroom door. “Right now, you need to focus on your sister.”
“You’re absolutely correct.”
Laney squeezed her shoulder. “Hold firm, Katherine. Remember who’s in charge.”
“Yes. Yes, I will.”
Oh, heavenly Father, please give me the wisdom and strength to face this challenge. Make me a good sister to Molly.
With renewed strength, Katherine turned the doorknob. No matter what else happened today, big sister would prevail over little sister. And once she was finished with Molly, she’d turn her attention to a United States marshal who thought he could disrupt her orderly life by pitting one Taylor female against the other.
There was a lesson to be learned here today. And Trey Scott was going to learn it.
Still stinging from his unprecedented defeat, Trey stared out the window of Marc’s study, where he’d spent plenty of hours whenever his duties brought him to Denver. The former prairie town had grown since Trey first pinned on a badge, becoming a city that lured people with its promises of riches and opportunity. Unless, of course, the one seeking said opportunity was a five-year-old child with a rigid schoolmarm for a big sister.
Feeling his temper rising, Trey inhaled a slow breath and slid his glance along the rooftops peppering the nearby horizon. It struck him as somehow fitting and yet also ironic that a home for orphans sat in the middle of a neighborhood designed for the supremely wealthy. A few of the snobbier neighbors still filed complaints, always unfounded and always thrown out of court. In the end Charity House was here to stay.
Although Marc had always made him welcome here, Trey’s trips had gotten decidedly less restful since Katherine Taylor had taken on the role of zealous protector to her troubled little sister.
As he watched the Charity House orphans play a game of tag in the backyard, dark, angry thoughts formed into one bitter reality. He’d failed little Molly Taylor.
“You through brooding yet?”
Trey spun around and nailed Marc with a hard glare.
“Blast you, your wife and that woman she put in charge of the Charity House School.” He slashed his hand in the direction of the window, unwilling to dig deeper into the reasons for his dark mood. “After everything that child’s been through, she should be playing.”
Hitching a hip onto his oak desk, Marc considered Trey for a long moment. “Perhaps. But one bath does not make an unhappy child. I think she’ll survive the disappointment.”
Trey paced to the opposite end of the room. Leaning against the mantel, he dug his toe at the stones in the hearth. “What possessed that woman to turn a bath into grounds for war?”
Lifting an ironic eyebrow, Marc angled his head.