My Baby, My Bride Page 5

  “What’s that, Mr. Parsons?” Duke asked.

  “The town records.” Mr. Parsons patted the old box with satisfaction. “All the private information is right here in my safekeeping, safe from bees and every other type of varmint.” He grinned at Duke, but Duke was looking around his office.

  “Shouldn’t the town records be in there?” He pointed to the only filing cabinet in the room, which he knew for certain held property deeds, auto deeds and anything else a registrar’s office would contain.

  “This is how Mrs. Gaines kept them for thirty years,” Mr. Parsons said, “and after she died, and I took over the position, I really saw no reason to move them into that.” He jerked his head toward the three-drawer filing cabinet. “Seems like important stuff would be easy for anyone to get into if it were in that thing. I don’t really trust it.”

  Duke blinked. “How is that copper box safer?”

  “No one cares about this old box. Besides, no one comes in my bedroom.”

  That was true. Still, Duke felt that something was amiss. “You’re not actually…the registrar,” he said slowly. “Nor are you a town official—you used to own the town pawnshop. Should you be in possession of private documents?”

  “Who are they safer with?” Mr. Parsons looked at him with sympathy. “After the ladies vote Zach into office, along with Pepper, you’ll not have any business in here, anyway. It’s best if there’s a firm, ongoing, permanent hand on our town records.”

  Duke slid back into his chair, thinking, even as he dismissed Mr. Parsons’s assertion, that the ladies were conspiring against him. He could deal with that later. “Does anybody know you have the box?”

  “You. You’re the sheriff, and you’re all that matters in that regard. For the moment you’re the sheriff, anyway.”

  Duke ignored that rumination. “Do you ever look inside it?”

  Mr. Parsons nodded. “Of course I do. When Sheriff Widow Gaines died, I counted every single document to make certain they were all there. She told me exactly how she liked them kept when I visited her in the hospital, and I’ve done it exactly the way she felt was best.”

  Duke frowned. “But wouldn’t that make those public records then? Not to put too fine a point on it, but that’s sort of how it’s looking to me.”

  “No,” Mr. Parsons said, “these are not tax nor property records. These are birth certificates, medical examiner certificates, marriage certificates—”

  “In other words, there’s not a whole lot in that damn box,” Duke said. There weren’t very many people in the town, and the last citizen of Tulips who’d passed on was Mrs. Gaines, rest her soul.

  “Nope. Not until the new little settler is born.”

  “Settler?” Duke’s frown deepened. What else didn’t he know about?

  “Liberty’s baby,” Mr. Parsons said mildly, “our first town birth in years.”

  “Give me a peek at the box,” Duke said.

  “Hell, no, Sheriff,” Mr. Parsons said. “You should never open up a box. Nothing good ever came of opening up a box that your eyes weren’t meant to see into. Think of Pandora, for example.”

  Duke wondered if any other sheriff in the history of the planet had as little power as he did. The truth was, he didn’t do a damn thing except respond to disturbance-of-the-peace calls, and those were usually between the women and the few men of the town when they somehow got crosswise with each other. Other than that, the ladies did what they pleased, and the men had their own code of survival.

  He wasn’t even in charge of the town secrets. Heaven only knew, there couldn’t be many. He’d known these people all their lives. “I’m bored,” he said, suddenly realizing it was true.

  “Well, getting into this box isn’t going to help. Go play Monopoly,” Mr. Parsons shot back. “Get one of those fancy computers. Learn to program in your spare time.”

  “Program what?”

  “How about something to spy on the woman,” Mr. Parsons whispered dramatically. “They’ve got their own spying methods, you know.”

  Duke grunted. “I believe that’s illegal.”

  Molly-Jimbo ran in the door with a great doggie smile on her face, fresh from eating a burger. He could tell she had because she was waving her plumy tail, and the wonderfully smoky smell of the grill wafted over to him as she ran straight into Mr. Parsons’s cell.

  “Just great,” Duke said.

  The cowboy—Blaine—poked his head inside Duke’s office, nodding at him and Mr. Parsons. “Just making sure this is where your dog belonged, sir.”

  “That’s fine. Thank you,” Duke said, squashing the urge to go smash some baby-shower cake. “Don’t get hit crossing the street,” he muttered after the cowboy had left.

  “That wasn’t nice,” Mr. Parsons said.

  Duke sighed. No, it wasn’t. Now he was getting graded on his manners. His marks were bad, and frankly, he realized he needed a change. “Back to my boredom problem,” he said, but Mr. Parsons closed his cell door with a clang.

  Duke blinked. Of course, one could see right through the bars, so it wasn’t as if he were completely shut out. It wasn’t the same as slamming a wooden door, but Duke got the hint.

  “You’re not bored, you’re mad,” Mr. Parsons said, “and my suggestion to you is that you go get your problems with your woman straightened out and quit avoiding them like every other man in this town does. Now, Jimbo and I are going to take a nap.”

  It was probably the best advice he’d heard yet. “Well, I guess I’ll go stick my head in the beehive. I can’t get any more stung than I’ve already been.”

  Mr. Parsons didn’t reply so Duke went out into the fresh night air, wondering if he’d be better off heading down to the Chop House himself. Everyone thought he was the bad guy, which wasn’t fair, because he was the one who’d gotten left at the altar.

  But Liberty was the only woman he was ever going to love. He wondered how he could feel this way when he knew she was pregnant by another man. If she thought he was going to fight that young pup Blaine for her—what a silly name—she was sadly mistaken. Either she loved him, or she loved that young child who probably hadn’t shaved more than ten summers, but Duke wasn’t going to beg for her love. No, sir.

  And there she was, coming out of the saloon with an armful of presents, walking toward the center of town. Because he was a gentleman—and not because he was looking for an excuse—he hurried after her.

  Before he’d even reached her, Liberty said, “I can carry them,” and tried to avoid his reach.

  Duke grabbed a stuffed monkey, a music box and a basket full of baby wipes and diapers before she could protest further. “We could put all this in my truck and make one trip of it,” he said, “especially for that white wicker baby pram.”

  Liberty stopped and glared at him. “How do you know about the pram?”

  “I saw Valentine pushing it inside the saloon.”

  “Why didn’t you stay if you knew about the party?”

  “Because I wasn’t invited.”

  “No one was invited, Duke,” Liberty said impatiently. “If anybody would have been invited properly, if Pansy hadn’t made an innocent little error, believe me, you would have been the first to get an invitation.”

  “I would have?” He suddenly felt better.

  “Yes,” Liberty said, her tone still curt.

  “Why do I not feel like that’s a good thing?” he asked, wondering which of his many transgressions she was annoyed with at this moment.

  She turned down a small street and walked up on the porch of a small white gingerbread house, which, it turned out, was next to Helen’s yellow-painted house and Pansy’s redbrick house. She let herself in, and Duke stopped on the wooden porch.

  “I thought you were staying with Pansy or Helen,” he said.

  “I bought a house. This house.” Liberty smiled as she set down the presents on a table. “It’s all mine. The first thing I’ve ever completely owned.”

  His stomac
h did a funny churn. In his mind, Liberty still lived in the house at the back of his ranch, even though her parents had sold it years ago and moved away to a commune somewhere. A real estate developer had bought it, and no one had lived in the house since. “I can’t see myself living here,” he murmured.

  “You don’t live here,” she said, surprised. “I mean, why would you see yourself living here?”

  He looked at her. “I don’t know. It’s such a doll’s house.” In fact, it was so dainty he couldn’t see anyone but Liberty living there. A feeling of panic set in, a sensation that he was completely out of touch with every inhabitant in Tulips and possibly every person he’d ever known in his entire life. What the hell was he supposed to say to the woman he loved when she became a home owner? “Why didn’t my office receive the deed?” he asked stupidly. “Shouldn’t I have received some tax notification or something?”

  Liberty looked at him. “Duke, this is not your kingdom and you do not sit on a throne. Not everything that happens in Tulips is going to be notified through the sheriff’s office.” She turned away from him, giving him a view of a stiffly straight back and a delicious nape, which, as matters were going, he might not ever get to kiss again. “My loan went through Holt,” she said.

  “Holt? Our town hairdresser?” Duke shook his head. “He can’t give you a loan.”

  “He sold me this house, which was one of six he owns in this town,” Liberty said defensively.

  How had that information slipped past him? “Well, congratulations are in order, Liberty. I’m…happy for you.” He wasn’t, not really, because he knew this place wasn’t meant for a big man like him to live in, and that Liberty hadn’t considered that when purchasing it. But that meant she also wasn’t planning on the pup, the Blaine character, who seemed to be trying to write himself into the play that was Liberty’s life.

  “Duke, we need to talk,” Liberty said.

  He glanced around at the still-unpacked boxes. Maybe it wasn’t too late to change her mind about this fragile house. “I’m listening.”

  “You’re not listening,” she said, which caught him off guard because it was true, so he tried to focus more on the moment and less on matters he couldn’t change.

  She took a deep breath. “This is hard for me to tell you. Very hard. But this baby—” Hesitating, she put a hand on her stomach for a second. “This is our child. We’re having a baby.”

  Chapter Six

  Duke went pale, and Liberty’s heart tightened. She couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t happy, that much was clear. There was shock mixed with denial, and maybe anger, on his face. “Oh, Duke,” she murmured. “I am so sorry.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment. His mouth worked as though he wanted to speak but couldn’t. Then it looked as if his legs were giving out as he sat down on the old sofa and stared at her.

  Liberty had tried many times to envision Duke’s reaction to her news, had given herself every chance to prepare for several scenarios of his possible emotions. But she hadn’t imagined this stunned silence. “Duke—” she began.

  He surged to his feet. “Marry me. Right now. Say yes, and this time, damn it, stay at the altar.”

  She drew in a breath. “Duke—”

  He picked up the stuffed monkey he’d carried into the house, stared at it for a second, then tossed it back down. “Liberty, every single person in this town knows I’m the father, don’t they?”

  “Since I’ve never cared for anyone but you, they probably guessed,” Liberty responded.

  He thought about Mr. Parsons’s copper box. “By heaven, and took bets on it, too,” he said.

  “Sure, they bet on everything. Why are you so surprised?”

  He pushed back his hat. “It’s illegal, for one thing, but never mind that. Did you know that they’ve taken up spying?”

  “Well, it’s more ham radio operating and things of that nature,” she said. “I wouldn’t call it international espionage just yet.”

  “How do you know all this? Why don’t I?” Shaking his head, he said, “I’m not getting sidetracked. The very fact that I didn’t know any of this is the problem. Everybody knows everything, including the fact that you’re expecting my child, and I appear to be the one person in this town everyone leaves in the dark!”

  “You stay holed up in your office most of the time. How could you expect to know more than you do?” Liberty asked.

  “I expect to know when I become a father!” Crossing to her, he took her hand. “Liberty Wentworth, this time you’re going to marry me. I asked you nicely and romantically the first time but it didn’t get me past the altar, and so this time, I’m telling you, you’re staying at the altar if I have to glue your little white shoes to the floor!”

  “I think you’re in shock, and I think you and I both need to think things through rationally. Neither of us wants to make a mistake in judgment,” Liberty said, pulling her hand away, but Duke continued to hold her up close to him.

  “I know you don’t. And I know why. But you’re not on the outside looking in anymore, Liberty. You belong to this town, and you belong to me. You’re having my baby, and I care about that, and I care about you.” He let her go, his fingers leaving sweetly warm places on her skin. “The wedding carousel ends right here. This time, you’re going to face all your fears and see my wedding ring on your finger. Where it will remain. Forever.”

  Her heart began a dangerous palpitation, spilling nervous tension throughout her body. She wanted him to stop talking! His gaze wouldn’t release her, though he didn’t touch her again. Still, she stood, rooted by his words.

  It was true, every word he’d said. She was afraid, terribly afraid. And he wasn’t making her feel any better. “Duke, the reason I didn’t go through with it in the first place is that I knew we weren’t right for each other.” She tried to carefully choose her words so they’d at least end up friends, which at the moment seemed like a distant dream. “You’re too bullheaded for me. And for most everyone else in this town. We don’t mean to avoid you or leave you out, but we know your opinions and your personality will far dominate the decisions we’re trying to make at that moment. You’re more of a parent than a friend. That image summarizes the situation as best I can.”

  “I’m going to be a parent now!”

  “Town father. That’s what you are.” Liberty turned away, not able to face the hurt expression Duke wore. “You make an excellent sheriff for that very reason.”

  “Which is why the little blue-haired women are trying to take my job and put Pepper and Zach in it,” he stated roughly.

  “Oh, don’t call them that,” Liberty said. “Holt mixes beautiful shades of gray.”

  He sighed. “I’m using an outdated expression, and I apologize, and for the name-calling—however endearingly I mean it. It’s all outdated.”

  She turned to him. “You are a trifle outdated, you know. You want to rule, possess, own, conquer.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” His chin jutted out.

  “Maybe nothing—to some other woman out there, Duke,” she said, her voice soft.

  “But I had to find the one hell-raising woman to get pregnant.” He sighed. “Things just never come easy for me somehow.”

  Liberty tapped his arm. “You’re hardheaded, Duke. Even you admit it.”

  He looked at her. “Liberty, you liked me well enough to go to bed with me. Now you’re going to have to deal with me, hardheaded, annoying, opinionated and every other tag you and my townspeople need to describe me. But deal with me you will. And marry me you will.”

  He walked out, leaving her stunned at his abrupt departure. Then she realized she hadn’t heard his boots leave her porch. Waiting, she held her breath.

  As she’d expected, he poked his head around the door.

  “By the way, I suppose I should say congratulations,” he said begrudgingly.

  “To you as well,” she replied cautiously.

  “You’re a…beautiful mother.�
�

  She realized he was trying to make an effort at chivalry, as foreign as it was to his tongue.

  “Thank you.”

  He glanced around the room, then back at her with as much suspicion as he might view a snake.

  “I assume we’re not due for a while yet?”

  “I’m seven months pregnant,” she said.

  His face went completely ashen. “You can’t be! I can’t even tell you’re pregnant.”

  “If I took off my clothes, you certainly would.

  Besides, my figure seems to camouflage it well.

  It’s my height. At least that’s what Pansy said.”

  He blinked. “But you were just trying on your wedding gown the other day.”

  “Trying is the operative verb. We couldn’t get it fastened, not really. Without the Cinderella styling, the dress would never have even gotten that close.”

  “Seven months,” he murmured. “That means two to go until we have a…baby.”

  “I can’t marry you, Duke,” she said softly.

  “Please don’t make this harder on me than it is. I came home because I didn’t want to keep your child from you. But I really don’t want this to be an uncomfortable thing between us.”

  “It’s too late for that.” He gave her one last hard look, then let the door close.

  This time she heard his boots clomp away. Then silence enveloped her.

  For the first time, she fully understood how he’d felt when she’d walked away from him at the altar.

  “WELL, WE SURE AS HELL can’t give him a bachelor party,” Mr. Parsons said to Pansy and Helen and Bug Carmine.

  “And I don’t think a baby shower is what he wants, either. He seemed pretty sore that we accidentally gave Liberty one before he knew about the baby.”

  “Duke’s sore about everything these days,” Helen said, not caring much about that. The sheriff was just going to have to get himself sorted out. The main thing on her mind was Liberty and the coming baby. “Let’s just focus on how we take care of Liberty, and then what we want to do about growing the town. We ladies have voted on a Men’s Day. What have you men come up with?”