Marrying the Marshal Read online

  “Oh,” Allie said. Had Caleb taught him about throwing arms? In the past when she’d dropped him at school, he’d wandered off by himself, or with just Sam and Reider. Now, he was surrounded by a group of boys. If only she’d introduced him to his father sooner.

  No, she thought, straightening in her seat.

  No more looking back. No more regrets. What was done was done. For now and forever more, there’d be nothing but hope and happiness and love.

  “Bye, Mom!” Cal said, slamming his door, then slinging his backpack over his shoulder to free up his hands to wave.

  “Bye, bab—Cal!” She’d been on the verge of calling him baby, but looking at him now, running off to catch another of Billy’s wobbly throws, she saw that he was growing into quite a handsome young man.

  Hmm…Kind of like his father.

  Just like the previous day when she couldn’t stop crying?

  Now, she couldn’t stop grinning.

  Carefully maneuvering out of the row of other cars filled with moms dropping off their kids, Allie relished the simple joy of being back in her old routine, then headed off to start her new routine—waking up every morning to a wonderful husband.

  She made one last glance in the rearview mirror to check on her son, then screamed.

  Slamming on the breaks, grinding the stick shift into Park, she tried yanking off her seat belt, but was stuck.

  “Help! Someone please help!” she cried. “They’re taking my son! Doesn’t anyone see them? They’re kidnapping my son!”

  Two men dressed in jeans, dark sweatshirts and ski masks had hold of Cal and were hefting him into a dirty truck.

  “Mom!” Cal yelled, breaking her heart. “Help!”

  Finally she got free of the restraint, but it was too late, the red pickup, with its rear window blocked out by a confederate flag, was already roaring toward the end of the street.

  A male passenger leaned out the window and started shooting. Once. Twice, he fired.

  Margaret’s windshield shattered.

  Kids and grown-ups screamed.

  Choked by exhaust fumes, Allie pulled herself together. She had to get to a phone. In her rush to escape her security detail, she’d also stupidly left her phone at home.

  Halfway to the school stairs, she realized in a sort of vague haze that her right shoulder stung. She cupped the pain, only to feel sticky warmth reminiscent of the type she’d felt that day in court. The day her face had been dripping in blood.

  Not stopping to check herself, she ran on. Okay, apparently she’d been hurt. Maybe even shot. She’d worry about that later. Right now, she just had to get to a phone. She had to get help to save her son.

  In a lifetime of idiotic mistakes, sneaking out of the house this morning—believing that just because Caleb and Adam and Beau and the rest of her team made her feel safe, that she actually was—had to be the dumbest, most careless, most—

  The air was knocked from her lungs as someone tackled her just as she’d reached the school steps.

  “Got her!”

  “No-oo-o!” she screamed, kicking and fighting her captor. If they had her, how could she save her little boy?

  “Allie! Stop fighting! It’s me! Beau.”

  He had her around her waist and she sagged against him, sobbing uncontrollably. “Beau, please! Find Cal. You’ve got to find him. You’ve—”

  “Shh…” he said, smoothing back her hair like his brother, sounding like his brother, even smelling a little like his brother. Only he wasn’t Caleb. Could never be Caleb in a million years of trying.

  Why hadn’t she forced Caleb to stay last night? Why had she ever sent him away?

  “Shh…” Beau said. “Everything’s all right. Adam and Bear have Cal. Police have the goons who took him.”

  “Thank you,” she said, trembling all over. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” When she’d calmed enough to stop crying, she said, “I have to see my son. I have to call Caleb. Tell him I’m sorry.”

  “Sure,” Beau said, leading her to the school curb that was suddenly swarming with police and gawking parents and students. “All in due time.”

  “H-how did you find us?” she asked, allowing him to help her into the backseat of the now welcoming black SUV.

  He laughed. “We were right behind you. Just let you think you were on your own. Hell, if something happened to you or Cal on my watch, my brother would have my balls.” He winced. “Sorry to be crude, but it’s the truth.”

  In the backseat, Beau beside her, signaling for the marshal driving to take off, Allie leaned against this man who would soon be her brother-in-law—assuming after her latest screw-up, Caleb would even want her as his wife.

  “I love him so much, Beau—both of them. Your brother and Cal.”

  “I know,” he said, awkwardly patting her leg.

  “I just wanted to be on my own to tell him. You know, figured it would be more romantic, but….”

  “It’s okay,” he said. “Dumb, but ultimately, no harm done.”

  Easy for Beau to say, but what if there had been harm done? Cal was now safe, but what about her future with his father?

  “Beau?” Allie said right before her world started a slow fade to black.

  “Yeah?”

  “I forgot to tell you…. I think I m-might’ve been shot.”

  THAT NIGHT, exhausted after an endless day of police questioning and paperwork and alternating fury with Allie and love for her, Caleb helped her tuck their brave son into his bed.

  Thank God, the shooter’s bullet had only grazed Allie. The emergency room doctor surmised it was stress, not loss of blood, that caused her to pass out. The only first aid she’d needed was a squirt of antibacterial cream and a bandage. As for Caleb, after hearing the initial news that she’d been shot—he’d needed a gallon of antacid and a defibrillator!

  “Sure you’re all right?” he asked his already half-asleep kid.

  “Yeah. Only my stomach kind of hurts after all that ice cream.”

  Caleb ruffled his hair. “I believe it. We all had to eat fast to get it away from Adam.”

  “Yeah,” Cal said, yawning, then rolling onto his side and shutting his eyes.

  Caleb’s breath hitched, thinking what a close call they’d all had today. No matter what Allie said, he should’ve never left. No one could watch over the two people he most loved like him.

  But then in Allie’s case, the person she most needed protecting from was herself.

  She kissed their son’s cheek, and in the process got too close for Caleb’s emotional comfort. The woman smelled the same—soapy and good. Felt the same—soft and warm. Only trouble was her insides had turned out to be about as cozy as a brick.

  After Cal drifted off to sleep right before their eyes, Caleb got up, gesturing for Allie to precede him to the door. He left Cal’s airplane lamp on, just in case he woke up spooked. He’d taken the kidnapping amazingly well. Maybe too well. The only thing that would tell them for sure was time.

  “Thank you for getting here so fast,” Allie said out in the hall. “It meant a lot that all of you could be here with him.”

  He shrugged. “Thank Joe. He’s the one with enough cash to charter helicopters to fly the whole crew over.” Gillian, Joe and the kids were now at the Morning Glory Inn for the night, after assuring Cal they’d be back first thing in the morning.

  Together, silently, they trudged down the back stairs and into the kitchen.

  “How long are you going to do this?” she asked.

  He opened the fridge, staring blindly into the jumble of Chinese food take-out cartons. “Do what?”

  “Give me the cold shoulder.”

  “Rest of our lives I guess. Not much else I can do.”

  “Do you even care why I tried sneaking past your brothers?”

  “Nope.” He reached for the leftover sweet and sour pork.

  “Well, I’m going to tell you anyway. I wanted it to be just the two of us when I showed up at your offic
e or apartment or wherever I had to find you in order to spill my heart out and basically grovel my way back into your life. I love you, Caleb. I love you no matter what you do. I get it that you love me, too—or at least you used to. And that because you love me, you’re not going to go out of your way to do something stupid like get yourself hurt.”

  He slammed the food in the sink. “That’s rich. For you to stand there telling me you trust me not to be stupid about getting hurt when you’re the one who actually got herself shot. How could you be so careless with not only your life, but our son’s? Do you realize that if my brothers hadn’t been tailing you, odds are we might never have gotten Cal back? You might be dead? Why, Allie? Why the hell would you ever do such an asinine thing as sneaking out of here without protection?”

  Crying, she stammered, “D-didn’t you hear me? Because I love you. I—I wasn’t thinking straight. I want to marry you. Spend every day of the rest of my life with you. It was like I had tunnel vision. All I could think of was getting to you. Begging you to give me a what? Third or fourth chance. B-but I guess I blew that, too.”

  Ashamed for letting her go on crying this long, Caleb drew her into his arms. “God help me, I’d give you a thousand chances, woman. Sometimes I have to wonder why, but I love you. I seriously love you.”

  Kissing him, laughing, crying, she said, “I love you, too.”

  “Okay, but listen.” He cupped her cheeks with his big, protecting hands. “In order to avoid any future misunderstandings, we’re getting married. Now.”

  She nodded. “Yes. Now. We won’t even wait for Christmas.”

  “Agreed.” He kissed her hard and claiming and soft and every way in between.

  “But what about Gillian? She was planning a big Christmas wedding.”

  During another kiss, Caleb emitted a low sound somewhere between a groan and growl.

  “Okay,” Allie said, getting the hint, loving the hint. “Let me go call one of the county’s other judges.”

  UPSTAIRS, peeking through the slats in the stair rails, Cal grinned. Whew. Finally his mom and dad were back together.

  Good thing, too, ’cause he was really getting sick of always having to ask Clara for advice. People were starting to think she was his girlfriend and that was just wrong! Girls were okay to have as a mom and aunt and cousins and stuff, but as girlfriends? Yuck!

  Epilogue

  Joe put his arm around Gillian and squeezed. “Would you quit pouting. This is a beautiful ceremony. Look how happy they are.”

  “I don’t care,” Gillian said. “I had big plans for their wedding. Now I’m going to have to wait forever to have a big, fancy Christmas wedding at our house. You know about my mom’s holiday wedding list. If only my brother could’ve waited a few more days.”

  Joe sighed, kissing the top of her head. “There’s always Meghan’s wedding. Why not start planning now?”

  “Ha ha,” she said, jabbing his ribs, eyeing the bride and groom. “Vegas. It’s not a fit place for a wedding nine years in the making.”

  “Then how about the two of us just have a second wedding? Would that make you happy?”

  “Really?” She beamed.

  “I was about to say, ‘no, not really,’ but damn, you have a gorgeous smile.”

  “Thank you,” she said, kissing him just as the happy couple shared their official first kiss as man and wife.

  At the business end of the ivory rose petal-strewn aisle, Allie sighed with happy pleasure.

  No one had ever had such a beautiful wedding.

  Gillian and Joe, and a fleet of private jets, had seen to it everyone she loved was there. Her mother, all of Caleb’s family, her security crew, her neighbor Margaret and Margaret’s husband, Mike. Even Allie’s work friends.

  Seeing how they hadn’t been able to find a judge willing to marry them in the middle of the night, Joe—being Joe—had just phoned some friend of his in Vegas to help plan a sunrise ceremony.

  It’d been idyllic.

  Hundreds of candles and ivory-colored poinsettias and fragrant ivory roses and an ivory satin gown for her, and jeans, boots, a dinner jacket and a starched white shirt for Caleb. He also sported a cowboy hat at her request. Cal’s outfit matched his dad’s.

  After sharing congratulatory hugs and kisses, Allie practically floated on Caleb’s arm into her dream reception. Equally elaborate, complete with a fancy breakfast, dancing, mimosas and even Caleb and Cal’s favorite oatmeal!

  Giselle seemed to be having an especially good time, still working her feminine wiles trying to break through Bear’s all-business demeanor.

  At the end of their tenth slow dance, Allie sleepily rested her cheek on Caleb’s chest.

  “Tired?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “But in a wonderful way.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I know what you mean. Hungry? Thirsty? Those champagne thingees are pretty good. Want me to get you one?”

  She shook her head. “Probably not a good idea.”

  “How come?” Caleb asked, gently swaying to the soft ballad’s beat. He froze. “No way. Already?”

  “I’m not a hundred percent sure,” she said. “But I have been feeling a little off. Last time I felt this way was…You know.”

  “Wow.” He buckled, grabbing his knees.

  “Caleb?” she asked, voice shaky with concern. “You all right?”

  “Sure.” He straightened. Cleared his throat. “Give me a minute. Last time this happened, I handled it bad. I need time to think. You know, be sure I make things right.”

  Allie wagged her sparkling new ring. “Thanks, but you pretty much already did.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4603-6960-9

  MARRYING THE MARSHAL

  Copyright © 2006 by Laura Marie Altom.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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  *U.S. Marshals