Page 23 of A Dangerous Heart (Wind River Mail-Order Brides #4)

“A re you sure about this?” Ed stood beside Isaac in the modest parlor the next morning, self-assured and at ease as if this was just another ordinary day—not the day he’d been called without warning to witness his brother’s wedding vows.

The preacher’s wife had welcomed the wedding party into the parlor to wait for the preacher to return.

He’d been called away to visit Mr. Slotkin, another parishioner, and would return any minute now, and Isaac’s wedding would commence.

Isaac stuffed his sweaty hands in his pockets. Of their own accord, his eyes went back to Clare, perched on the narrow sofa across the room. His cousin Merritt talked animatedly, but Clare’s attention was focused on him. He looked away, noting Ed’s white shirt and starched collar.

“I’m sure,” Isaac murmured, his voice barely audible. He wasn’t sure about anything, but he wasn’t going to tell Ed that. He’d stayed the night at Ed and Rebekah’s tiny apartment above the newspaper office and hadn’t slept a wink.

“Because just a few days ago, you were pretty adamant about sending her away,” Ed challenged softly.

“Things change.” His eyes fixed on Clare again of their own volition, some invisible line pulling his gaze to her whenever she was nearby.

Things change.

An echo of their words last night. Things had changed.

She was in more trouble than he’d thought.

Especially now that Ben was injured. Victor Barlow’s sister.

He kept reminding himself that his time as a marshal was over, but when he married Clare, there was a good chance he’d be pulled back into the violent world he’d left behind.

His gut twisted. Clare, however, was quiet, her expression unreadable.

She’d been reserved when they’d checked on Ben at the doc’s office last night.

He’d thought she was simply worried about Ben.

When he’d picked her up this morning, he had witnessed a myriad of emotions pass across her lovely face as they’d walked side by side to the parsonage.

Ed continued his inquisition, his voice buzzing and biting like an annoying gnat. “I know you like her. We all do?—”

“I don’t like her,” he snarled, keeping his voice low.

Ed’s mouth snapped shut.

“This isn’t about me,” Isaac ground out. “It’s about her nephews. Those boys need a pa.”

Ed’s eyes widened. Was he surprised? Or questioning Isaac’s ability to be a father to the two boys?

The previous night, on the boardwalk, in the wake of Ben’s rescue, Isaac had felt some of his old self-confidence return.

He had a chance to redeem himself, and he was going to take it.

But in the black of night, sleep had evaded him, and the voices in his head had tormented him with doubts. What did he know about being a father?

The ropes in his gut tightened. He wasn’t fit for the role of a pa. He’d gotten Cody caught in his deadly crossfire. Opening himself up like that again was like opening his chest and exposing his heart. The sudden urge to escape, to walk away, was so strong that he shifted his feet.

Ed stepped closer, turning in so that his back was to Clare and Merritt.

Isaac met his brother’s sober gaze. Ed, his biggest competitor when they were in their teens, the brother most likely to ruffle his feathers, had mellowed with Rebekah’s influence.

His brother’s expression radiated a powerful concern.

“If you do this, it’s forever. There’s no going back. Are you sure?”

Panic swept through his chest and settled at the base of his throat.

“I said I was,” he muttered. He swallowed hard. Was he?

The front door squeaked open and shut behind the preacher. Isaac turned to go and greet him. Ed’s hand clasped Isaac’s arm, a steel band around his bicep, his stare intent. He wouldn’t let it go.

“I care,” Isaac said. “I care about her. And the boys. Happy?”

Ed studied him, then nodded, giving Isaac’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll stand by you.”

Isaac gave a tight nod in return. The weight of everything unsaid pressed on him.

He could keep Clare and the boys out of the public eye and isolated at the ranch until Ben healed up.

He’d have time to figure things out, to tell his brothers about Clare and the Barlow Gang.

But not today. Not until they’d had time to breathe.

Clare was already stretched thin with worry for Ben, and he didn’t want to add to it.

Moments later, Isaac found himself beside Clare in front of the preacher.

Her small hands were clasped together in front of her, prisoner-like.

At least she wasn’t rubbing that scar. She gave him a tremulous smile.

All he could think was—beautiful. Prettier than all the sunsets he’d ever seen in his twenty-six years. And she was going to be his wife.

“We are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of these witnesses…”

The preacher looked to Ed, then Merritt.

“…to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is an honorable estate instituted by God…mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his church, which holy estate…”

The admission Ed had wrenched out of him reared through his mind. This was supposed to be a marriage in name only. A marriage to protect Clare and the boys. But somehow it was more.

Something was squeezing at his heart again, making it burn. He wanted to smile, reassure her, but he couldn’t make his lips obey. The gravity of what they were about to do was closing off his throat.

“If any man can show any just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him speak now or else hereafter forever hold his peace.”

Isaac didn’t dare look at his brother, but he had a sharp awareness of him at his side. Today, his childhood rival was his fiercest ally.

The preacher instructed Isaac to take Clare’s right hand in his.

Over the drumming in his ears, Isaac heard himself say, “I take thee, Clare, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better and for worse, for richer or poorer, and in sickness, and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”

The band around his chest cinched tighter when he registered the sheen of tears in her eyes, she quickly blinked away. The preacher led her through reciting her vows.

“I take thee, Isaac, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold…” Her voice trembled slightly, and she searched his eyes.

He wished he knew what she was looking for and that he could give it to her.

His hand jumped with a slight tremor. Her fingers tightened around his, steadying him.

“…from this day forward, for better or for worse…to love and to cherish, and to obey…” She swallowed hard on that word. “…till death do us part.”

The preacher closed his worn black leather Bible and pronounced them man and wife.

“You may kiss your bride.”

Clare had started to look down, but now surprised eyes flew to meet Isaac’s. She had to have known that was how weddings ended.

Isaac let one hand settle on the curve of her cheek. He leaned in, aware of his brother watching and the preacher. Right. There. His lips met hers in a soft, tender kiss.

He intended only a quick brush of his lips against hers, but the moment they touched, he felt a jolt like lightning buzz through him and heard her quick intake of breath—like she’d felt it too.

The unexpected sensation had him stepping back.

He released her, their hands dropping awkwardly between them.

Merritt and Ed were there along with the preacher’s wife, offering congratulations. But he felt off-kilter, relieved when Clare said they should get back to Ben.

He’d married Clare.

Now he could only hope he hadn’t made things worse.

* * *

Clare raised a hand in a parting wave to Merritt and Ed after leaving the parson’s house.

Her other hand rested in the crook of Isaac’s elbow as he drew her down the boardwalk toward Doc Powell’s office.

All around her, the day awakened like any other, but Clare felt out of sorts.

The sun spilled over the small town of Calvin, warming the wooden buildings that lined the main street.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted from a nearby café, mingling with the earthy aroma of horses and hay.

The chatter of townsfolk blended with the rhythmic clapping of hooves on the dirt road.

But part of her was still back at the preacher’s parlor.

She’d felt the tension in Isaac as he recited his vows, right through their linked hands.

She’d been waiting for him to call the whole thing off, even as she’d wrestled with her own conflicting emotions.

Was this a mistake? Tying herself to a man who didn’t really want to be married?

Should she run farther from Victor’s grasp?

She hadn’t come up with an answer to her whirling thoughts before the preacher had pronounced them “man and wife.”

And then…

Isaac had kissed her.

The thought of his kiss made her misstep. Isaac steadied her with his hand beneath her arm and sent her a questioning glance. She smoothed her skirt and tried to smile, hoping he would ignore the blush she knew was scorching her cheeks.

Perhaps he was as discomposed as she was, because he kept his silence. Which left her to stew as they continued walking.

She hadn’t realized how deep her feelings for Isaac had grown until the moment his lips had touched hers.

She wanted more than a marriage in name only.

She’d come to care for the man who protected everyone else but couldn’t protect his own heart.

He’d given up his own comforts so she and the boys had a place to live.

His honor and loyalty to his family ran deep.

If she could win his heart, that would be her greatest treasure.

She sighed. It was out of the question. She knew it. The marriage was for the boys’ sake. That was the deal they’d struck. She wouldn’t, didn’t dare, ask for more.

Maybe she didn’t deserve more.