Chapter 19
Once inside her room, Lucy removed her boots before reaching up under her skirt to slip off the old pants Wyatt had loaned her for riding. Carefully hanging the small garment on a hook on the inside of the closet door, she gently stroked the worn material. What kind of boy had Wyatt Logan been? If she had to guess, Lucy imagined quite similar to the man he'd become. Smart, quiet, kind. She sighed happily, still trying to get used to the idea that the two of them were courting now.
What a pleasant surprise then they'd be spending a good bit of the afternoon together after all. Glancing down at her appearance, Lucy's smile faded at the dusty smudge here and there from the morning's activities. Lifting her arm and daintily sniffing her sleeve, her nose wrinkled in distaste at the faint smell of horse that clung to her. She definitely needed to freshen up (especially now that Wyatt would be accompanying them). Hastily stripping down to her bloomers and chemise, Lucy dropped the dirty, smelly clothes in the empty wicker basket Martha or Katie had returned to her closet earlier in the day.
A brief wash in the now cool water remaining in her wash basin from this morning was definitely an improvement. Carefully patting her face dry, Lucy dropped the towel on the wash stand and leaning closer to the mirror, peered at her reflection. She absently smoothed back a few wayward curls blown about by the early spring breeze and decided to leave her hair in one long, loose braid since there was not enough time to properly dress it. No matter. This afternoon's outing was quite casual, merely a trip into Brady to run errands with Wyatt and his grandmother.
Instinctively reaching up to pinch the apples of her cheeks, her hands stilled. No need to help Mother Nature along today, not when the woman in the mirror was already pink-cheeked with happiness, Lucy realized. "Wyatt Logan and I are courting," she blissfully told her reflection, who beamed in response. A sudden movement outside her window caught Lucy's attention. Stepping closer to the glass, she smiled dreamily. It was Wyatt, probably heading to the barn to hitch up the carriage. She'd know those broad shoulders anywhere.
For heaven's sake, Lucy, stop daydreaming. It would be terribly rude to make the others wait on her because she was dawdling. Within a few minutes, she was dressed in a clean, starched petticoat, dark blue skirt and a fresh shirtwaist in a becoming pale blue and was putting her boots back on. A quick stop at the wash stand to dab a bit of violet scent on the inside of each wrist and behind her ears, and Lucy's toilette was complete.
After retrieving a thick plaid woven shawl from the closet and setting it aside, she opened the top drawer of the small table beside her bed and pulled out her reticule and a brown bank envelope. It held not only her modest wages to date but the remainder of the cash she'd brought with her from the bank in Belton. Swiftly counting through the contents, Lucy thought gratefully there should be more than enough to order some new things from the dressmaker today, as well as pay for a few small sundries from the general store.
Though it certainly wasn't urgent at the moment, she made a mental note that sometime in the future, the remainder of her sizeable inheritance would need to be transferred from the trust fund in San Francisco to a bank here in Texas since this was her home now. Lucy wondered idly if Wyatt would be surprised to learn how much money she had. Since it was extremely poor manners to ever speak of such things in polite company, he probably had no idea (or even cared). Unlike a certain red-haired, would-be suitor who came to mind, Wyatt Logan was not one to brag on his personal wealth or accomplishments.
She frowned thoughtfully. Shortly after taking ill, Henry Preston met with his lawyers to ensure Lucy's inheritance would remain in her name only, even if she did marry, as per the law in California since 1862. Of course, he couldn't have known she would move halfway across the country after his passing, which meant if she and Wyatt were to marry in this state, everything Lucy owned would legally become his.
She supposed that could have been a concern with a good many men who might've eventually wanted to court her back in California-harkening back to the days when wives brought substantial dowries to the marriage. However, after staying at Sherwin Ranch for the past six weeks, it was obvious Wyatt and his family were rather comfortably off by Texas standards...if not necessarily Nob Hill wealthy.
Besides, Lucy couldn't picture the man she knew (and hoped to marry) behaving arrogantly or in a greedy manner about what her father always intended would be passed down to his only child and some day, her children. Quite the opposite, actually. She had a feeling the blue-eyed cowboy possessed more than his fair share of masculine pride and would balk at spending money he felt rightfully belonged to his wife.
Returning the envelope to the drawer, Lucy was reaching for her shawl when there was a brisk rap on the door, likely her hostess. "Come in," she called out, settling the warm material securely around her shoulders and scooping up her reticule and putting it over her wrist.
As expected, Mrs. Sherwin stood in the open doorway, a lovely dark green knitted shawl draped over her arm. "All ready to leave, dear?" she asked. "Knowing my grandson, he probably has the carriage out front by now, and we don't want to keep him waiting." The women shared a companionable grin before Betsy stepped closer and squeezed her arm.
"Lucy, I want you to know Wy told us at lunchtime the happy news about the two of you courting now, and we couldn't be more thrilled. It's been delightful having you stay with us, and I guess, as my husband likes to frequently remind me, not a secret I was hoping you and Wy might suit. But now that it's really happening, I'm so excited to welcome you to our family." The warmth evident in the older woman's voice touched Lucy deeply.
Before she could respond, though, Mr. Sherwin called up the stairs that Wyatt was indeed waiting out front and 'you ladies better get a move on.' Lucy snickered when his wife rolled her eyes and muttered something about the men in this family always bossing the women around-and choked back a shocked giggle when Betsy winked at her and answered back in a voice dripping with sugar, "Thank you, dear, we'll be right down."
Looking quite pleased with herself, the older woman shared, "And that's how you handle James Sherwin and Wyatt Logan when they get to acting a bit high-handed." Charmed (and maybe more than a little impressed), Lucy impulsively leaned down and kissed her soft cheek. What a lucky woman she was that the man who stole her heart came from such a wonderful family. Clearly pleased by the show of affection, Betsy smiled and gently cupped Lucy's cheek in return.
"You're a good girl, Lucy Preston, with plenty of patience, taking on a sweet but stubborn man like my grandson," Mrs. Sherwin declared fondly. "But truthfully-and naturally, I may be biased-aside from my James, Wyatt is the finest man I know–one who I promise will make you an excellent husband. After grieving something fierce over losing dear Jess and Mattie, it does our hearts good to see him finally taking a chance on happiness with you..." Once more, a deep, clearly exasperated voice drifted upwards.
"Betsy? For pity's sake, woman, daylight's burning. I'm sure Wy wants to be home sometime before Martha has supper on the table this evening," James scolded, causing the women to exchange amused glances before hurrying down the steps.
Outside, Lucy waited politely for Wyatt to help his grandmother into the carriage first, but to her surprise, she insisted on taking the second seat, even when he started to protest. "Now, don't fuss, Wy, I'm perfectly fine right here, and anyway, you young people should be sitting together." Lucy cheeks heated when Wyatt teasingly quirked a dark eyebrow in her direction.
Once Mrs. Sherwin was comfortably seated, Wyatt turned to Lucy and easily lifted her into the carriage. "There you go, Ma'am," he murmured huskily, deep blue eyes gazing into hers. She couldn't help a slight shiver when his strong hands seemed to linger an extra second or two longer than was strictly necessary around her waist...until Betsy broke the spell by clearing her throat rather loudly.
"Thank you," Lucy said breathlessly, arranging her skirts around her to make room on the seat for Wyatt, who quickly climbed up and sat beside her before flicking the reins lightly. Once the carriage cleared the Sherwin property and the horse settled into a steady trot, to her amazed delight, he gathered the reins loosely in his left hand and with the other hand, casually reached over to entwine his fingers with hers.
Glancing at her from the corner of his eye, Wyatt winked playfully. Her heart pounding at the unexpected flirty gesture, Lucy wondered if this was just a sample of what she could expect from being courted by Wyatt Logan–because she liked it very much. Lucy never dreamed the attentions of a man she cared deeply for could make her feel like this.
Unsurprisingly, Wyatt contributed little to the women's discussion about new dresses for Easter Sunday and the summer months to come. Exquisitely aware of his warm, muscular body pressed firmly against hers on the narrow seat as they rode along, Lucy struggled to keep her distracted thoughts from straying to the interesting possibility of other occasions in the future where their two bodies might be pressed together...private, intimate occasions between a man and a woman where no clothes were necessary...
By the time he pulled the carriage to a halt in front of the dressmakers, Lucy's face felt like it might be permanently stained a rosy pink. Since she and Wyatt hadn't spent a single moment alone together after deciding to start courting, she had no idea how long they would be "keeping company" before ending up in front of the pastor, but hoped desperately for her peace of mind it wouldn't be a long process...
Back in the stables, he had the carriage ready and sitting in front of the house in no time. After waiting a few minutes, Wyatt checked the sun's position in the afternoon sky, wondering if he might have to go inside to hurry the women up, when the door opened at last. He was genuinely taken aback by the way his heart jumped suddenly and began to race when his eyes met Lucy's, and she favored him with a shy smile. What the hell?
While Wyatt had admitted to his grandpa that he did care for Lucy (and hell, yes, his lonely body definitely wanted her), his vulnerable, skeptical heart continued to stubbornly balk at the idea of having stronger feelings than affection and a natural masculine desire for a beautiful woman after knowing the teacher for a mere six weeks. Still, there was no denying the powerful effect Lucy had on him. Also not helping with his conflicted feelings was the smug voice in his head that sounded way too much like Dave Baumgardner's taunting him, Good lord, man, you have got it really bad for this lady. He tentatively returned Lucy's smile while willing the annoying voice to go away. Back off, Sheriff.
"All ready now, dear," Gran informed him cheerfully as she and Lucy drew near. To his surprise, though, when Wyatt went to help his grandmother into the carriage, she insisted on riding in the second seat, even when he tried to object. "Now, don't fuss, Wy, I'm perfectly fine right here, and anyway, you young people should be sitting together," Betsy told him, blue eyes twinkling. Always the matchmaker, Wyatt thought fondly, even after knowing she'd been successful and the two of them were courting now.
Still, who was he to argue with the woman who raised him? 'Thank you,' Wyatt mouthed, patting Gran's leg once she got herself situated on the seat. Turning around, he wrapped his hands around Lucy's slim waist and lifted her into the carriage (taking his own sweet time letting go). Wyatt was gratified by Lucy's soft gasp when he impulsively reached for her hand after a minute and held it loosely as they rode along.
Despite the presence of his grandmother, he decided it was kind of nice being this physically close to Lucy for the time it took to drive into town-plus there was always the ride home to look forward to. He grinned. Funny how Wyatt had naturally dug in his heels and flat out refused when Gran suggested the night before Lucy's first day of teaching that he be the one to take her into Brady and pick her up. Now that the circumstances between the couple had changed, however, Wyatt thought it was an excellent idea (not that he'd be in a big hurry to tell Betsy Sherwin how right she'd been about Lucy). In his opinion, it would be good for the two of them to have that little bit of extra time alone with each other during the week.
Having no interest whatsoever in the women's conversation about ordering new dresses, he was content to remain silent for most of the trip into town, more than a touch distracted by the tempting warmth of the slender, womanly body pressed firmly against his side. Damn...if this was how the pretty brunette made him feel when they were both fully clothed, Wyatt mused ruefully, what would it be like to kiss and touch all that soft, bare skin at his leisure...
With some effort, he resolutely set aside improper thoughts of a naked Lucy–since unfortunately, that day was a ways off-and used the time to try and figure out what he was gonna say to his friends. While confident both Rufus and Dave would be sincerely happy for him, Wyatt would just as soon not be teased to death about courting Lucy either (something the ornery town sheriff happened to be extremely good at).
Pulling the horse to a stop in front of the dressmakers, he jumped down to tie the reins to the hitching post before helping the women out of the carriage. After carefully setting his grandmother on her feet, he reached for Lucy, who blushed when Wyatt grinned and gently squeezed her waist before letting go.
"Alright then, ladies, after I drop off these papers at the bank for Gramps, I'm heading over to the livery to see Rufus. I'll meet up with you two at the general store before we go home, okay?" Wyatt asked, amused when Gran distractedly nodded her agreement before guiding a bemused Lucy inside the shop. Besides her menfolk and the Lord, wasn't much Betsy Sherwin liked better than buying a becoming new dress...
Staring after them, it occurred to Wyatt that while he knew his grandmother was truly overjoyed he and Lucy were courting because she loved him and wanted her grandson to be happy-it could also be true part of her pleasure was because she appreciated having another female around the ranch. It was a relief to him the two women got along quite well, and had done so practically from the day Lucy arrived in Brady. It was rather amazing how easily the teacher fit in with his family as if she'd known them for years...
And, too, once he was old enough to comprehend the familial ties, Wyatt never forgot that at the exact moment his Mama and Daddy had been taken away from him, James and Betsy Sherwin had lost their only child, their dearest daughter, Libby–enduring a terrible grief over the past twenty five years he sadly understood so much better after his baby son died. And while Lucy had been their guest for only a short time, it was clear how attached his grandmother was getting to her. Though he and the Lord weren't exactly on speaking terms just yet, still, Wyatt wondered if maybe Gran could be right. Maybe God really had sent Lucy Preston all the way from California to help mend all of their broken hearts...
Since the bank was across the street and only a couple buildings down, Wyatt left the Sherwin rig where it was to drop off the papers for James. A few minutes later, his errand completed, he stopped the carriage outside the livery and following the heavy, rhythmic thudding of a hammer, found Rufus around back standing in front of the forge laboring over some tin work. The blacksmith looked up when Wyatt stepped into his line of vision and held up a couple fingers. Nodding in understanding, he snagged an old wooden bucket hanging on the wall beside the double doors leading into the stable and made a stop by the well to get some fresh water for his horse.
Wyatt finished the task and was putting the bucket back when his friend walked toward him wiping his brow before stuffing the rag in his back pocket. "Wyatt! Wasn't expecting to see you," he greeted him. "You here for the bridles, then? I told Jonah a few days ago they'd be ready today." At Wyatt's ready nod, his friend went inside and fetched an old crate with the repaired bridles neatly coiled inside. "Let me see now...that'll be four bits, Mr. Logan," Rufus told him, taking the coins Wyatt held out with a tired smile and 'thanks.'
After stowing the crate in the carriage, he gestured toward a sturdy bench beneath a budding oak tree a few yards away. "Can you take a break from your work to sit a spell?" Wyatt asked lightly, pretending not to see the curious expression on his friend's face as he followed him over to the bench and dropped down with a low groan.
"Hell, yeah, my back has had more than enough for today. So, what's on your mind, Wy? You look a little serious. Everything okay out at the ranch?" Rufus asked, rolling his shoulders to alleviate the strain from bending over his forge most of the day. Because the two men had known each other since they were very small, Rufus patiently waited quietly while Wyatt tried to put his thoughts together.
Clearing his throat hesitantly, he said, "So, uh, I wanted to talk to you about something. Seeing how you're my best friend and all, I didn't want you to hear the news from someone else that Lucy and I are courting...as of this morning, actually." It was obvious from the delighted grin spreading over his face, Rufus very much approved of the idea. Well, that, and the enthusiastic slap on the back he gave Wyatt.
"Good for you, man! Damn glad to hear it. You been alone for quite a while now, and Lucy is a nice lady, smart and pretty, too. I think she'll make you a fine wife." Wyatt exhaled in relief, appreciative of the other man's encouragement. That is, until he asked in the next breath, "So does this mean you and Lucy are gonna be taking the vows fairly soon, like maybe this summer? Bet your folks would like that..."
Wyatt shifted uncomfortably on the bench–though to be fair, it was a perfectly reasonable question–and decided to tell Rufus exactly what he'd told his grandparents earlier. "I don't think...we haven't...that is, this is all so new between us, Lucy and I haven't had a chance to talk...and well, I see no reason to rush into anything just yet. Probably for the best if we take things kind of slow for now." From the dubious frown on his friend's face, Wyatt's stammered response appeared to have been less than convincing.
"Uh, okay, that's your choice, of course," Rufus said mildly. "Thing is, and I hate like hell to point it out since we are the same age, but you're not getting any younger, Wy, and if the two of you want yourselves a houseful of little Logans running around Sherwin Ranch, better get started sooner rather than later."
Caught off guard by the well-intentioned, yet unwittingly painful, advice, Wyatt was momentarily at a loss for words. A houseful of little Logans. Though Rufus couldn't have known it, that had been his late wife's dearest wish, practically from the day they got married. In fact, within months of Mattie's birth, Jess had started talking wistfully about having another baby so their son wouldn't be an only child like his parents...
Flashback
Late March 1879
Rolling over in bed, Wyatt instinctively reached for Jess, but her side of the bed was cold and a quick glance revealed the cradle was empty. Yawning tiredly, he smiled as the faint sound of a lullaby drifted in from the other room. Slipping on a pair of pants, Wyatt padded into the front room and knelt down beside the rocking chair in front of the low-burning fireplace where Jess was singing softly as she fed their son. He couldn't resist running a gentle finger over the baby's wispy blonde curls, grinning despite his wife's sigh when Mattie's bright blue eyes popped open and he waved a chubby hand at his father.
"Your stubborn son was nearly asleep, and now see what you've done, Wyatt Logan," Jess scolded in a low voice–but there was no anger in the words, only an abundance of love. Though Wyatt often deserved it, his wife was seldom, if ever, cross with him. Rufus often declared that Jessica Logan must be a saint here on earth for putting up with a pigheaded cuss like her husband–and Wyatt was inclined to agree.
"Sorry," Wyatt whispered back (though he really wasn't), pressing a kiss to her warm cheek in apology as he let the baby grab his finger and hold on tight. His son had a pretty good grip for only being four months old. Sometimes he could hardly believe the two of them had created this beautiful little boy. Matthew Wyatt Logan was healthy and happy and a true blessing in all their lives. Naturally, his grandparents were crazy about the baby, and lately, Gran had been dropping hints that she and Gramps would be thrilled to pieces if Jess and Mattie cared to stay at the ranch with them whenever Wyatt was away with the Rangers. Though amiable and soft spoken, his wife was no pushover, and preferring to take care of the baby herself, politely turned down the offer–though she took Mattie to visit his adoring great-grandparents at least once a week, and of course sat with them during church services every Sunday.
Lost in thought, he blinked in surprise when Jess murmured, "Wyatt? There's something I've been wanting to talk over with you. I was thinking-even though Mattie is only a few months old–well, I was thinking about having another baby. Both of us are only children, and it would be nice if he had a little brother or sister or maybe both..." Her quiet voice trailed away as she watched him somewhat anxiously.
Another child? So soon? Naturally surprised at first, Wyatt thought it over for a minute or two and had to admit, it wasn't the worst idea. Mattie was already a little over four months old, which meant even if Jess got pregnant right away, there would be more than a year's time between him and a brother or sister. While it would definitely mean extra work for her, right from the start, his wife was a loving, patient mother, and Wyatt had no doubt she could handle two little ones so close in age.
"Wyatt?" Jess asked uncertainly when he didn't respond right away. "It's alright if you don't agree, we have plenty of time to decide..." Cupping her cheek tenderly, Wyatt cut Jess off with a sweet kiss.
"If you're sure that's what you want, sounds like a fine idea, honey," he assured her warmly. Noting the baby had fallen asleep at last, Wyatt carefully lifted him from Jess' arms and whispered solemnly, "In fact, since I'm only gonna be home a few more days, we probably should get started on that second baby, don't you think?" He smirked when his wife blushed prettily but obediently followed him into their bedroom...
End Flashback
Alas, it wasn't meant to be. There would be no second child because only weeks later, Wyatt's wife and son were gone. But now, after many painful days of sorrow and darkness, there was Lucy-and the real possibility of fathering another child. Since this stage of their relationship was just beginning (and he and Lucy hadn't had more than a few minutes alone with each other), obviously important future decisions such as asking her to marry him and hopefully being blessed with children had yet to be discussed.
Out of nowhere, he suddenly felt a fervent longing to hold little Matthew one last time, so strong, his chest ached with it. How cruel was it of God or maybe Fate to take his child while Wyatt was away from home? The bitter realization Jess and Mattie had spent their last moments on earth without him haunted Wyatt to this day. Lost in memories, he recalled how healthy and sturdy his sweet-natured son had been–born with his mother's light-colored hair, but mostly favoring Wyatt, with blue eyes and a dimple in his right cheek. Though unexpectedly, tragically brief, every single day of the precious few months he'd been a father had been pure joy. He started at the hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Wy, if my careless words brought sad recollections of your boy," his contrite friend began, but Wyatt hurriedly shook his head.
"It's alright, Rufus, you don't have to apologize," he said hoarsely, struggling to speak against the hard knot of grief in his throat. The two men sat quietly in the dappled shade for a few minutes until Wyatt felt calmer (and less embarrassed at getting emotional in front of his oldest friend). They looked up at the sound of hoofbeats to see the sheriff approaching. Stopping his horse on the other side of the Sherwins' carriage, he hurriedly slid from the saddle and loosely tied the reins to the hitching post.
"Just the men I was looking for," their friend called out, pushing his hat off his forehead and regarding them somberly. Wyatt and Rufus exchanged curious glances since Dave Baumgardner was seldom this serious. Pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket, he handed it to Wyatt, who scanned it quickly and frowning, passed it to Rufus. It was a message sent over the telegraph from the Sheriff's Office in Fort Worth...and it wasn't good news.
It seemed that just as his friend had predicted weeks ago, the James gang had decided to leave Oklahoma and take their thieving, murderous ways across the border into Texas. The telegram said that several banks around the town had been hit by the gang in the past few weeks...but worse than that was three innocent people had been killed during the robberies. No wonder the sheriff looked worried.
"Not all that many miles between Fort Worth and Dallas," Dave observed, "and plenty of banks to pick off in the smaller surrounding towns. Those boys are getting pretty damn bold, coming this far into Texas. And I have a real bad feeling they can do a hell of a lot more damage before leaving the state or country."
"Bold, yeah, or worse, maybe desperate," Wyatt added grimly, thankful for the familiar rush of calm mixed with adrenaline from their Ranger days starting to kick in. Granted, their small town was in the middle of the state and pretty far out of the way if the gang was thinking of heading south to San Antone before crossing into Mexico. But what if they set their sights instead on going west to El Paso, which was right on the Mexican border? Such a meandering route across central Texas meant the gang would possibly be riding dangerously close to Brady–and likely tempted to rob the only bank in town if they knew about it.
Dave frowned darkly when Wyatt shared his thoughts, with a worried Rufus silently looking between the two men. "I don't much care for the sound of that, but I suppose it makes sense as much anything does when it comes to this violent bunch," the sheriff admitted. "That's the reason I wanted to talk to you fellas-and thanks, Wy, appreciate you saving me a trip out to the ranch. I'd like to deputize both of you tomorrow after church, and maybe Mr. Sherwin, too, and a couple of the others who're handy with a gun. Shame, though, you're tied to the ranch damn near every day but Sunday, Captain Logan. I could use a steady, experienced man around here until our fellow Rangers chase down these killers and hang the lot of them."
Glancing at Rufus, who merely shrugged, Wyatt said slowly, "Actually, Sheriff, as it turns out, that's probably not an accurate statement any more." If the threat of the James gang wasn't so serious, he might've been tempted to laugh at the confused expression on his friend's face. "Like I was telling Rufus before you rode up, I wanted the two of you to hear it from me and not the town gossips that Lucy and I are courting now. What I didn't get a chance to tell Rufus was I've decided that instead of one of our hands doing it, I'll be the one driving Lucy to school and back. Which means I will be in town for at least a little while every morning and afternoon until the school year is over the end of April."
The sheriff grinned smugly and reacted in much the same way as the blacksmith–except instead of a slap on the back, he thumped Wyatt's upper arm. Hard. "That's the best news I heard today, Captain, and no offense to Miss Lucy, but I'm also happy about you being around here a lot more often." Though he tried not to react to the forceful blow out of pride, Wyatt couldn't help wincing faintly.
"Am I to understand from your reaction you approve of me and Lucy courting, then?" he asked dryly, discreetly rubbing his arm. Jesus, the man could throw a punch...
"Well, hell, yeah, 'course you got my blessing," Dave chuckled. "Wyatt Logan, you sly son of a gun, getting all peeved with your Gran since the teacher came to town for even suggesting such a thing, and then, what? A month or so later, bang, you and the pretty teacher are courting. Don't you agree, Rufus, that love is funny that way? So, brother, when are you and the lady gonna go see Paster Spencer and set a date? Probably don't wanna wait too long and let a fine woman like her get away." Though he could feel his cheeks redden, Wyatt took the joking in stride. He knew his friends were glad for him.
Clearing his throat roughly, Wyatt repeated what he'd already told Rufus about taking things slow with Lucy. To his surprise, though, the other man's pleased expression seemed to dim just a bit. "What is it? Have you changed your mind about me courting Lucy already?" Wyatt teased. Surprisingly, all of a sudden, his friend was slow to answer, and worse, seemed to be measuring his words–something which made Wyatt very uneasy since it happened so rarely. "Okay, you're kinda making me nervous, here, Dave, so just spit it out," he growled, his hands unconsciously tightening into fists. The sheriff sighed heavily before finally speaking.
"Listen, Wy, there's something you should probably know," Dave said reluctantly, reaching out and putting a steadying hand on Wyatt's arm. "I wasn't gonna say anything 'cause you know I don't have any patience at all for gossip, but now that you and the teacher are properly courting...well, part of the reason I asked when you might be getting married is-now, promise me you aren't gonna lose your temper and do something foolish-ever since the winter social, I might've heard a stray whisper here and there, mostly around Miss Emma's, about how you and Lucy are both unmarried, living in the same house and damn, I hate to say it, but maybe acting improperly..." Wyatt was dimly aware of Rufus hissing in dismay at the ugly, hateful words.
A wave of fury swept over him, so fierce, it made Wyatt's chest burn. Who dared spread such hateful lies about Lucy Preston? Staring directly into his friend's sympathetic eyes, all at once, he knew without a shadow of a doubt exactly who dared...someone who might have an axe to grind with the woman Wyatt was courting and planned to eventually marry.
Jed Coleman...the man who'd also wanted to court her but (knowing Lucy like he did) was kindly, respectfully turned down-and instead of behaving honorably about being refused, decided to bolster his masculine pride by besmirching an innocent woman's good reputation. Every single protective instinct in Wyatt's body hummed wildly in that instant with the keen desire to confront the slanderous son of a bitch (and maybe rearrange his face while he was at it). Yeah, Jed Coleman was a dead man...
A/N: Now, if I was Jed Coleman and came face to face with a furious Wyatt Logan, I'd run the other way (just saying). So, oops, this unintentionally turned out to be another rather Wyatt-centric chapter...guess the man had a lot more on his mind than Lucy at the moment (plus our girl already seems to know exactly what SHE wants...and no surprise, he has blue eyes and dimples, lol). I decided to save a confrontation between the two men for the next chapter. All I can say is that any hope Wyatt might've entertained about keeping his courtship with Lucy on the down low will be pretty much blown to bits, lol. As always, I'd like to express my sincere appreciation to everyone for their favorites, follows and nice reviews. Can't believe this story has grown to 20 chapters over the past 18 months, but there's plenty more to come, Timeless friends. Thanks for hanging in there with me :))