Read Online A Lawman's Christmas: A McKettricks of Texas Novel by Linda Lael Miller - Free Book Online

die in a brothel,” he remarked.
    Dara Rose was jangled, but not offended. Everyone knew what had happened to Parnell, and the scandal, though still alive, had long since died down to an occasional whisper, especially since Jack O’Reilly had left his wife and children for a sloe-eyed girl from the Bitter Gulch Saloon.
    â€œHe wasn’t,” she said, very softly, and then colored up again. “That kind of man, I mean. Not really.”
    Dara Rose had never confided the truth about her marriage to Parnell Nolan to a single living soul west of the Mississippi River, and she was confounded by a sudden urge to tell Marshal McKettrick everything.
    Not a chance, she thought, running her hands down the front of her apron as if they’d been wet.
    â€œIt must have been hard for you and the children,”Clay said quietly. His eyes, blue as cornflowers in high summer, took on a solemn expression. “Not just his dying, but being left on your own and all.”
    â€œWe manage,” Dara Rose said.
    â€œI reckon you do,” he agreed, and he looked more puzzled than solemn now.
    She knew he was wondering why she hadn’t found another husband, but she wasn’t about to volunteer an explanation. Maybe she hadn’t actually loved Parnell Nolan, but she’d liked him. Depended on him. Even respected him.
    Parnell had been kind to her, cherished the girls like they were his daughters instead of his nieces, and married her.
    She would have felt disloyal, discussing Parnell with a relative stranger; though, oddly enough, in some ways she felt as if she’d always known Clay McKettrick, and known him well. He stirred vague memories in her, like dreams that left only an echo behind when the sun rose. The silence was awkward.
    Dara Rose didn’t ask the marshal to sit down, and she couldn’t offer him coffee because she didn’t have any.
    So the two of them just stood there, each one waiting for the other to speak.
    Finally, Clay grinned ever so slightly and turned his hat decisively in his hands. He went to the door andopened it, pausing to look back at Dara Rose, his impressive form rimmed in wintry light.
    â€œGood day to you, Mrs. Nolan,” he said.
    Dara Rose swallowed. “Good day, Mr. McKettrick,” she replied formally. “And, once again, thank you.”
    â€œAnytime,” he said, and then he left the house, closed the door behind him.
    Dara Rose resisted the temptation to rush to the window and watch him heading down the walk.
    Harriet appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, hair rumpled, rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands. “I thought I heard Papa’s voice,” she said.
    Dara Rose’s heart cracked and then split down the middle. “Sweetheart,” she said, bending her knees so she could look directly into the child’s sleep-flushed face, “Papa’s gone to heaven, remember?”
    Harriet’s lower lip wobbled, which further bruised Dara Rose’s already injured heart. How could such a small child be expected to understand the permanence of death?
    â€œIs heaven a real place?” Harriet asked. “Or is it just pretend, like St. Nicholas?”
    â€œI believe it’s a real place,” Dara Rose said.
    Harriet frowned, obviously puzzled. “Is it like here? Are there trees and kittens and trains to ride?”
    Dara Rose blinked rapidly and rose back to her fullheight. “I don’t know, sweetheart. One day, a long, long time from now, we’ll find out for sure, but right now, we have to live in this world, and we might as well make the best of it.”
    â€œI think I would like this world better,” Harriet told her, “if there was a St. Nicholas in it.”
    Dara Rose gave a small, strangled chuckle at that, and pulled her daughter close for a hug. “We don’t need St. Nicholas, you and Edrina and me,” she said. “We have one another.”

Chapter 4
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