The Marshal and the Bride on the Run Read online

  “You are infuriating.” Simon couldn’t help but laugh. “I love you so much… will you marry me, Katy?”

  For a moment, he thought Katy was just going to stand there staring at him. Then she beamed and flung her arms around his neck.

  “I love you too and I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that for a long time.”

  “Katy…”

  Simon’s protests were cut off by Katy kissing him, pulling back with a smile that made her eyes sparkle.

  “Yes.”

  Epilogue

  “Who do you think you are?”

  Mary could hear the shouts as she left her room. Her in-laws had gone on ahead with Elijah to the church. They were ready for the wedding, but Mary wasn’t. She had been struggling with morning sickness badly lately, to the point where she could barely get out of bed. There were good days and bad days, and this was one of the bad days.

  Thankfully, her family was more than understanding. Mary just hoped she didn’t miss the wedding.

  Now there were sounds of a commotion outside the mission. One voice sounded like Coleman. He had come to the mission demanding to see Simon. He wanted the deputy to arrest Emma for murder. But Simon was more focused on his wedding day. As it was, he wasn’t going to take Emma back, or even arrest her. He had made his decision, one that Coleman hated. And he was kicking up a fuss about it.

  Then Mary heard her husband’s voice. He sounded calm, but the low tone said his temper was close to going.

  “Try that again, Mr. Coleman, and I won’t be as nice.”

  “As nice? I think you’ve broken my jaw.”

  Mary came outside to see Coleman sitting on the ground clutching at his jaw. Gareth was massaging his knuckles, while Philip Anthony was standing beside the coach with another sheriff. He looked impatient and huffed as he reached down to haul Coleman to his feet.

  “Unfortunately, he hasn’t,” Phillip said gruffly. “You can still talk. Now, get in.”

  He and his deputy began to push Coleman into the coach. Coleman was fighting back, knocking the young deputy onto his backside in the dust. Philip growled and shoved even harder.

  Mary hurried to Gareth’s side.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Philip is transporting Coleman back to the station.” Gareth winced as he rubbed at his hand. “He’s got an escort to take him back to the East Coast.”

  That was something. Mary was glad the man was going. He had caused a lot of upset, and he made a lot of people uncomfortable, Mary included.

  “That little chit killed my brother!” Coleman bellowed, trying to get past Philip without success. “She deserves to pay for it.”

  “She was a victim of your brother’s abuse!” Philip snorted. “You’ll be lucky to find anyone willing to hand her over to you. Emma is not going anywhere.”

  “Oh, she is.” Coleman spat in Philip’s face. “Trust me on that.”

  Mary’s stomach churned. The man reminded her too much of her father. A mean, vile bully. And that sort of dampener was not needed on this day. She stepped toward him.

  “Emma is not going anywhere with you,” she said, shaking her head at him. “Neither to the gallows nor to your side as your wife.”

  Coleman snorted.

  “You’d defend that little…”

  “Yes, I would. It’s men like you who should be thrown into hell to rot.” Mary tugged her neckline aside to show the scar that wrapped around the base of her throat. “I didn’t get that by tripping down the stairs.”

  “That’s enough,” Philip snapped. “Mrs. Stanier, please step back. Coleman, get in!”

  With one final shove, Coleman disappeared into the coach. Philip jumped in after him, the deputy slamming the door behind them. Then the coach was off at a fast pace in the direction of the train station. It was only when it disappeared around the corner that Mary felt like she could breathe again.

  “Mary?”

  Gareth had reached her side. He touched her shoulder. Mary shivered as she adjusted the neckline of her dress. Gareth knew about the scars her father had left on her. She had never revealed them to anyone else. Doing just that had left her shaken.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” Mary leaned back, allowing her husband to fold his arms around her. “What time is it?”

  “You really want to go to the wedding? Katy and Simon aren’t going to be upset if you miss it.”

  “I want to go. It would take my mind off things.”

  Gareth sighed. He knew better than to argue with his wife. He kissed her head.

  “If we’re quick, we can get to the church before the vows are exchanged.”

  Mary hoped so. It always made her smile to see a wedding happen. To see a happy couple and knowing that she had helped always brightened her day. And Katy did deserve a happy ending after months of hiding. They all did.

  This may not have been Mary’s design this time around, but she was glad to have witnessed it and in some ways she had helped bring justice to all the girls.

  If you missed any of the books in this series grab them here

  Breaking the Chains of the Past – Preview

  “Russell has not said he will not marry me, Father. I can’t understand why you would want to send me so far away. What have I done wrong?” Constance Dearborn wasn’t crying but she was certain tears couldn’t be far away.

  “He has never proposed, child, and it is unlikely now that he ever will.” Francis Dearborn spoke with regret. “I wish my purse was better able to cope with the times and the rising rates of expected dowries. I just can’t afford one hundred pounds for one daughter, never mind three.”

  “And so, I am to be the one to be sent away? I am to be punished because you cannot afford to pay to have me married — well?” Constance loved her father but knew that he was much as any other father.

  He was pragmatic when it came to money and the obvious burden of female offspring. But as much as that was clear, she knew in her heart that her father would not truly find it easy to watch her leave and never come back.

  For surely to live in the colonies, to depart for America, could be nothing less than permanent.

  “I am not sending you away, Connie. I am asking you to consider it, not only for the solvency of this household, but for yourself and your own prospects in this world.”

  “I had never even heard of Jamestown until you spoke the name,” she said miserably, her heart hammering and the tears still threatening to fall as she stared vacantly across the room.

  The sitting room in their modest home in Kensington, south of the River Thames, was small but neat. And it was the only room in their home where Constance had any recollection of her mother. If she was to leave, would she forget those last tantalizing traces of the woman who had died when Constance was just six?

  But Constance knew that that was far from the real reason she didn’t want to go. Russell Melton had filled her heart almost completely for the last two years, especially when she had realized they were within a whisper of being married.

  His family had a good deal more wealth than Connie’s father. Although it was true to say that Connie’s father could claim gentlefolk as kin given that he was cousin to Sir Ronald Dearborn. But Connie’s father whose own business had suffered from the rising cost of procurement of necessary materials, had found his own circumstances reducing year after year.

  And with three daughters and no son, the expense of marrying his offspring away would be all his. Connie knew well that if the business continued to suffer as it had been doing there would be nothing left in the end, nothing for any of the three sisters to inherit. And what good was that anyway when a woman was married? Whatever her father left her would only ever become her husband’s property.

  Perhaps that was why Russell had not been as attentive of late. If Constance had worked it out, if she understood the world of business and how everything was likely to end in her father’s case, then surely Rus
sell had understood it too.

  And if her father was right, then Russell was as concerned about a lack of his wife’s inheritance in the future as he was about the lack of dowry now.

  But Constance loved Russell with all her heart and it didn’t occur to her for a moment to blame him for such a sentiment. After all, his family had built their wealth and a family could not continue to do that by giving an inch. And even now she could not think that he had truly decided to reject her. He had never said as much.

  “I wish you would see it as I do, my dear. The idea that you would remain unmarried, scorned by everybody around you as the reverend of every church preaches the sin of spinsterhood, near breaks my heart, daughter. I should be torn in two never to see you again, but I would do that rather than have you looked down upon. At least this way you have a chance.”

  “Because you do not believe anybody else would marry me?”

  “I do not have the resources to see all three of you suitably married, Connie.”

  Francis Dearborn ran his hand over his bristly chin; it made a rasping sound that was so familiar to Constance that she felt tears springing to her eyes once more.

  “But you are the only one of the three who has been thwarted in love and I am certain that your feelings for Russell Melton will hold you back. Perhaps it would be a good thing for you to be far away from him where your own feelings could mend in safety. I wish I could make you understand the wonderful opportunities there are for a young woman in the Virginia Colony.”

  “What opportunities?” Constance asked, knowing she must at least hear him out.

  “The opportunities to find a husband, and a good one at that. The settlers who left these shores some years ago have established themselves. They are the first, they will always have the richest pickings.”

  “But Father, I would sooner have at least some little say in who it is I am to marry.”

  “And you shall. That is the sincere declaration of the Virginia Company, my dear. They are offering opportunities for nicely bred women just like you to find a new life and a good husband. But I have made my inquiries well and can tell you that every lady who leaves these shores has a right to choose upon arrival. You will not be coerced into a marriage you do not want, and you may turn down as many suitors as you please. There now, is that not a good prospect?”

  “Perhaps it is good if it is true,” Constance said and looked down at the rug on the wooden floor of the sitting room, unable to meet her father’s gaze fully. “If it is true.”

  “Will you at least give it some thought?” Francis Dearborn said as he rose from the chair with the customary groan that was more habit than anything.

  “I will give it some thought, Father. But I can assure you, Russell still loves me and there is still hope.” There had to be for she loved him and could think of nothing worse than to travel halfway around the world to marry a man she had never met. Marriage was about love, after all.

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  About the Authors

  Indiana Wake was born in Denver Colorado where she learned to love the outdoors and horses. At the age of eleven, her parents moved to the United Kingdom to follow her father’s career.

  It was a strange and foreign new world and it took a while for her to settle down. Her mom raised horses and Indiana soon learned to ride. She would often escape on horseback imagining she was back in the Wild West. As well as horses, Indiana escaped into fiction and dreamed of all the friends she had left behind.

  From an early age, she loved stories. They were always sweet and clean and more often than not, included horses, cowboys and most importantly of all a happy ever after. As she got older, she would often be found making up her own stories and would tell them to anyone who would listen.

  As she grew up, she continued to write but marriage and a job stole some of her dreams. Then one day she was discussing with a friend at church, how hard it was to get sweet and clean fiction. Though very shy about her writing Indiana agreed to share one of her stories. That friend loved the story and suggested she publish it on Amazon Kindle. Together they worked really hard and the rest, as they say, is history.

  Indiana has had multiple number one bestsellers and now makes her living from her writing. She believes she was truly blessed to be given this opportunity and thanks each and every one of her readers for making her dream come true.

  Belle Fiffer is not your ordinary girl. She grew up in the west where she loved to ride horses and walk in the wilds. At fifteen, she moved to England when her father’s job took him across the pond. Leaving behind all her friends she lost herself in books and if she is honest she fell in love with food. She is not ashamed of her curves and loves stories about good, honest men that love their women on the large side.

  As a committed Christian, her books are clean, sweet and inspirational. Belle hopes you enjoy the books and would love to hear from you.

  Thank you so much for reading this book. We both love to write and to share our stories with you and hear your wonderful comments gives us great pleasure. Until our next adventure keep well my friend xx