Marrying the Marshal. Laura Altom Marie
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“The girl who broke your heart?”
“Aw, geez, it wasn’t all that bad.”
“The hell it wasn’t. Adam said you didn’t get out of bed for two weeks. He also said she was pregnant, then told you in a letter she’d lost the baby after leaving town.”
“Adam’s got a big mouth,” Caleb said. “Anyway, the short of it is, she didn’t really lose the baby.”
“What?!”
“Gilly, I’ve got a son. He’s so damned handsome it hurts to look at him. He’s got my eyes.”
“God, I’d like to hug you right now. Congratulations, honey. I can’t wait to tell Dad—and Joe. I’ve got to see if he can wrangle time away from the office, then we’ll be right over.”
“Not a good plan.”
She laughed. “Just try keeping me away. I love staying home with Chrissy, but truthfully, I could use a little action.”
“Yeah, well, there’s too much action here. And Allie and my son are at the heart of it.”
“MOM,” CAL SAID at the dinner table that night, “I wish you’d let me go back to school. Sam called and said Kelly got her noodle necklace stuck up her nose. And then Miz Talbert came over to try yanking it out, and then the whole thing broke, and noodles were like, wham—” he swung his left arm for emphasis, in the process dumping his chocolate milk “—everywhere. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said, sopping the mess without skipping a beat.
“Need help, ma’am?” The newest marshal assigned to protect them stepped in from the living room. She didn’t know him, but he seemed nice enough. Cal seemed fascinated by his size and smooth-shaven head.
“No, but thanks,” she said.
“Sure.” All eight feet of him ducked back into the living room.
“You mad?” Cal asked, munching on a carrot stick.
“Not even a little bit.” She tossed the milk-soaked rag in the sink, then joined him at the table.
“How come you’re not sayin’ anything?”
“Sorry,” she said. “Guess I’m just tired.”
“Then how come you’re not eating? I thought Great-Grandma Beatrice’s meat loaf’s your favorite.”
“It is. Guess I’m not all that hungry, either.”
“I am.” He helped himself to thirds on meat loaf and mashed potatoes, carefully steering clear of the steamed broccoli along the way.
“That’s good,” she said, not in the mood to lecture Cal about vegetables.
“Man,” he said, mouth half-full of potatoes. “This was the crappiest day ever. At least Sam told everyone I have bodyguards. Wish that Caleb guy could’ve stayed here with me, but he said he had to hang out with you. Bet he was bored.”
If only!
“Yeah,” Allie said, sipping iced tea. “It was a pretty dull day.” Nothing but a few blood-balloons whizzing through her court.
“Sorry. Wanna stay home with me in the morning? After I do my work, we can go see Power Force.” The dear look on his face was so sincere, so hopeful, she couldn’t help but smile. Then she happened to flash back to that afternoon, and how Caleb had worn the same concerned expression.
A pang ripped through her at the notion that no matter how hard she’d tried convincing herself that in her mind Cal’s father was dead, he wasn’t. He was alive and well and quite possibly lurking just outside the house.
“Oh, baby,” she said, grabbing her son’s small, sticky hand. “I would love to stay home with you, and then go to a movie, but I can’t—we can’t.”
“How come you look like you’re gonna cry again? You never have before.”
“I know. There’s just a lot going on that—”
“You’ll understand when you get older.” Caleb strolled into the kitchen. His choppy, dark hair was wet, as were the shoulders of his denim shirt. For the most part, his faded jeans were dry, kind of like her mouth once she’d finished eyeing the ridiculously gorgeous combo of his body and face. In his left hand dangled a plastic bag.
“It still rainin’ outside?” Cal asked.
His father nodded. His father.
“Sure is,” Caleb said. “Want to go outside and play?”
“Yeah!” Cal leaped from his seat. “Can I take my plastic boats?”
“Whoa,” Caleb said, rubbing the boy’s head. “Slow down, mister. That was a joke. It’s a nasty night.”
“It’s nice in here,” Cal said. “We’ve got meat loaf. Want some?”
“That depends. Is it Grandma Beatrice’s recipe?”
“Yeah,” Cal said. “How’d you know?”
Eyeing Allie, he shrugged. “Lucky guess.”
“Man,” Cal said, back in his seat. “You’re good. What’s in the bag?”
“This,” he said, pulling out a Hershey bar the size of Cal’s head.
“Cool!” Cal said. “Thanks! Can I eat it now? What else is in there?”
“You can eat part of it now,” Caleb said. “And only if it’s okay with your mom. As for what else is in there, that’s for me to know and you to find out.”
Cal made a face.
Caleb returned the look.
“Can I eat it?” Cal asked Allie.
“Sure,” she said. “After dinner. You the new shift?” Allie asked Caleb.
“Nah. I went ahead and sent Bear out to the front porch, but I’m officially off for the night.”
Cal asked, “Then how come you aren’t at the new movie, Power Force? That’s where I’d be goin’ if I didn’t have to work.”
Caleb laughed, and the rich normalcy of his voice washed through Allie. “You work a lot?” he asked his boy.
“Yeah. Mom makes me take out the trash. I have to make my bed, too. And sometimes when I forget to take the trash, she yells at me and I get talked to about ’sponsibilities.”
“What’s so bad about that?”
“It’s hard. You ever take out the trash? And sometimes, if it’s