January 17

8:05 a.m.

Rosemary's head rested on Lee's strong chest, his heart beat thumping steadily in her ear. Whoever said 'confession was good for the soul' sure had that right. Her shoulders, which previously carried the weight of her past, now felt light, airy. Her heart, did too. How could she have ever doubted his reaction? How could she ever have withheld a piece of her heart, her past from him? There still was so much more to be revealed, but they were off to a great start. He'd surprised her with his rapt attention and sympathy. But why should she be surprised? From the moment they had said "I do" he had been nothing but patient and kind. Sure, she was good at getting under his skin, but even in those times, he chose to respond well. Could this be true love? Oh sure, she knew he was capable of that, but her? Was she capable of being lovable? Lee reached for her hand, and intertwined their fingers. His soft lips swept down once again over hers.

A knock sounded at the door.

Lee grunted and pulled his lips from hers, reluctantly. Already she missed their warmth.

They sat still, almost frozen. Another knock came at the door. So, they hadn't imagined it.

Lee scooted off the settee and held up a finger. "I'll be right back…"

She smiled back at him.

Lee opened the door. "Hickam, what brings you by?"

Hickam? On a Sunday morning before church? She scrambled into a sitting position and tried to twist her hair up, but the rebellious tendrils fell all around her face.

Hickam stepped into the room. "Oh, I hope I'm not interrupting any—thing." She could almost hear the blush on his voice. Her with her rumpled hair and Lee with his breathlessness: What a sight they must be!

"Just a friendly conversation between a man and his wife. That's all." He cleared his throat. "How can I help you?"

"Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there is an outright brawl in town. I know in the past you have acted as sheriff in Bill and Jack's absence, and well, considering they are both out of town— I rode as quickly as I could to get you. Jesse and Carson— they are down there now, trying to sort everyone out."

"A brawl? On a Sunday?" Lee shook his head, then sighed heavily. "What has this town come to?" He hoisted his plaid overcoat off the hook near the door and pulled it on.

Then he looked to her. "You'll be okay? I'll be back as soon as possible." His eyes were gentle. Kind. Promising to pick up where they left. Gone were the moments of awkwardness between the two of them. Thanks to the story of the clasp, he now knew she was at least trying.

She nodded.

Lee went to the drawer and pulled out his gun, more for the look of authority than anything. He loaded the gun into the holster at his side. "Where are we headed? The saloon?"

Hickam scoffed. "No. Actually, the brawl is going on at… the church."