Chapter 10 Retribution
T he day of the wedding dawned with a heavy layer of frost and the scent of a snowstorm on its way.
Mallory stood shivering on her screened-in porch with a mug of coffee in her hands, watching the sunrise like she did every morning. “Thank you, God.” The sight of Old Glory grazing in the back pasture made her heart overflow.
She was still absorbing Tucker’s confession about being a federal agent.
It meant a lot to her that he’d come clean about it before the wedding, but it begged another serious question.
Was there anything else he was keeping from her?
The fact that he might not be at liberty to tell her was troubling.
Regardless, she couldn’t complain. A few days ago, she’d been on the brink of losing the home she’d been born and raised in.
And now she was marrying the one guy in the world capable of restoring her ranch to its original size.
Only God could do something so amazing. It almost felt wrong to ask Him for anything else, but she needed another miracle.
“Give us justice, Lord,” she whispered. She wanted justice for her late parents’ legacy she was trying so hard to carry on.
She wanted justice for Chip, Tucker, and all the local ranchers who’d been defrauded.
She also wanted justice for the innocent steers who’d paid the ultimate price for the dirty deeds of the narco rustlers.
It was a big, God-sized request that only He could grant.
She took another sip of coffee, tasting hope in the generous dollop of hazelnut and vanilla creamer she’d poured into her mug. A gal was allowed to hope on her wedding day, wasn’t she?
As she stepped back inside the house, she heard the front door open and close. It was Chip making his usual getaway. The next time she saw him, he would be all spruced up in his blazer at the front of the church.
At first, she’d been puzzled about why Tucker had chosen Chip as his best man, but it was starting to make more sense.
Since he wasn’t close to anyone else, he’d probably done it to please her.
The only other living, breathing creature that Tucker implicitly adored and trusted besides herself was his dog.
Someday, she was going to ask why he kept himself so closed off from most people.
For now, though, she was enjoying being the center of his world .
Inspired by his and Chip’s new bond, she’d gone against her better judgment and asked Martina to serve as her matron of honor. She prayed it wasn’t something she’d live to regret.
A light, hesitant knock sounded on her back door, sending a jolt of alarm through her. It didn’t sound like Chip, Tucker, or any of the other guys.
And it wasn’t. A quick peek through the window blinds revealed it was Martina. Wondering what she wanted so early in the morning, Mallory reluctantly cracked the door open.
“Hey, you!” Pretending to be surprised, she opened the door wider.
Her bookkeeper was shivering beneath her too-thin sweater jacket. “Got a second?”
“For you? Always.” Mallory couldn’t think of a plausible reason to refuse the woman entry, so she opened the door wider.
Martina’s teeth chattered as she stepped across the threshold.
Mallory swallowed her misgivings and led the woman who’d once been her trusted friend to the living room. Before either of them said anything else, Mallory reached under the Christmas tree to retrieve a large box wrapped in cheerful red paper.
“Here.” She held it out to Martina. She’d purchased the gift under the assumption that Martina couldn’t afford to replace her threadbare jacket. Boy, how wrong she’d been about that!
Martina’s dark gaze softened. “An early Christmas gift, huh?”
“Yes. ”
“On your wedding day, no less.” Her bookkeeper fingered the gold ribbon, looking uncertain.
“Just open it,” Mallory begged quietly. What she’d done for the woman had been for all the right reasons, albeit misinformed ones.
Martina tore open the paper and lifted the lid of the box. “Oh, Mallory!” She lifted out the fleece-lined leather coat. “You shouldn’t have!”
I know that now. Strangely enough, she didn’t regret it, though. “Do you like it?”
Martina nodded vigorously, quickly removing her old jacket to pull on the new coat.
Her shivering eased. “This is amazing!” She held out her arms to get a better look at the sleeves, running her fingers up and down the soft leather.
Her voice cracked as she raised her head to meet Mallory’s gaze.
“You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a…
” She stopped and shook her head, swallowing hard.
Mallory had to finish her sentence in her head. The closest thing to a friend? Family? To a sister? “Me, too,” she sighed. But not anymore .
“You don’t have to say that.” Martina’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“Too late.” Mallory longed to go back to what they’d been to each other when they’d first met. What I thought we were to each other, she corrected. She now understood their friendship had been one-sided from the get-go.
“While we’re baring our hearts to each other,” Martina’s voice grew thready, “I want to thank you for the way you and Tucker have taken Chip under your wing.”
“He’s a good kid,” Mallory gushed, feeling like she was on safer ground. “So easy to love.”
“Yes, he is.” A tear trickled down Martina’s face.
“You were right to nudge him kicking and screaming toward his GED. Someday, he’ll thank you for it.
” Her gaze flitted briefly toward the guest room where her son had been bunking.
“Now that he’s eighteen, you could’ve gone around me. Why didn’t you?”
“You’re his mother.” Fear prickled through Mallory, though she was careful not to let it show—fear that Martina had figured out her son was no longer living in the barn loft. She inwardly braced herself to defend her actions if it came to that.
But all Martina did was nod, looking resigned. “I know my parenting skills leave a lot to be desired, but I only want what’s best for him. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“No judgment.” Mallory forced a smile, but it wasn’t easy.
“Baloney!” The edges of Martina’s eyes crinkled with anger. “I can see it in your eyes. I don’t blame you, though. You don’t understand what lengths I’ve gone to in order to protect my son.”
You’re right. I don’t, and I never will. Martina was reaping the consequences of her poor decisions. It was too bad she didn’t see it that way.
“Chip is special,” his mother continued. “What others see in him as weakness, you see as strength.” She gave Mallory a tearful smile. “Just like I do.”
If she was referring to her son’s genius-level computer skills, Mallory couldn’t have agreed more. “He has a bright future in the tech world.”
“I sure hope so.” The finality in Martina’s voice made Mallory’s heart ache. “Keep pushing him toward it, will ya?”
“I will.” She struggled to adopt a lighter tone of voice.
“I’ve always wanted a younger sibling to boss around.
” In all honesty, she would’ve taken a brother or a sister, older or younger, book-smart or athletic.
Her childhood had been a lonely one. However, her mother hadn’t been well enough to bear more children.
“You’re a good person, Mallory.” Martina snuggled deeper into the folds of her new coat. “Thank you for your early Christmas gift. I’ll, um…go get dressed for the wedding now.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s your big day.”
Something was wrong, but Mallory didn’t dare ask her what it was.
Talking to Martina had felt like standing across from a ticking time bomb.
The moment the door snapped shut behind her, Mallory let out a breath of relief she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
Then she headed to her bedroom to step into her wedding dress.
It wasn’t a wedding dress in the traditional sense.
It was a vintage dress of creamy crushed velvet with long, flowy sleeves and lots of creamy lace.
She’d found it online and purchased it to wear to a country western dance with some friends—an evening out that her crushing workload at the ranch had propelled her to cancel.
The dress had been hanging in her closet ever since, with the price tag still dangling from it.
Waiting for today. This special occasion. This very moment.
As she donned the dress, the folds of crushed velvet tumbled over her slender frame, fitting her like a glove. She rarely wore anything but jeans, so this was a big step up for her. She paired it with her newest cowgirl boots, loving the delicate roses stitched into the leather.
Her hair was still shorter than she preferred, but it would take months to grow it out to its original length. On the upside, Tucker didn’t seem to care what length her hair was .
She moved to the bathroom to fish out the makeup bag she almost never unzipped. It felt weird dabbing on foundation, face powder, and blush. When she finished, she hardly recognized herself in the mirror, but it only seemed right to doll up a little for Tuck on their wedding day.
While she was zipping the bag and tossing it beneath the sink, her doorbell rang. This time, it was Tucker.
She drank in the sight of him in the one suit he’d promised her he owned—solid black with a white dress shirt and silver bolo. No regular dress shoes for her cowboy, though. He had on a new felt Stetson and gleaming black-cherry boots.
“You look incredible!” He gave her dress a low whistle. “Hope you don’t mind your groom driving you to church.” They’d discussed it ahead of time. With all the danger curdling around them, he didn’t trust anyone else to do it.
She reached for her coat. “I don’t believe in bad luck. There’s enough real evil in the world to worry about.”
He took the jacket from her and held it up so she could slide her arms through the sleeves. Then they strolled to his ice-blue Chevy Colorado together. “Chip said his mom paid you a visit. Is everything okay?”