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Bonnie bounced to her feet. "What's married mean?"
"It's a holy institution sanctified by God," Mrs. Dobson said importantly, the perky feather on her black hat quivering with agreement. "A man and a woman live together for His glory."
"Does that mean you go live with God?" the girl asked.
Megan smiled. "No, honey. We still live in Landing."
"Good," Bonnie said, and grinned. "I like it there."
"I'm glad," Mrs. Dobson said. "Now, you go wait by the buggy, while I talk with Megan and Justin. And don't get too close to the horses, you hear me?"
"Yes'm," Bonnie said obediently as she raced out of the church. Her shoes clattered loudly on the stone floor, then were silenced as she skipped outside onto the new spring grass.
Mrs. Dobson cleared her throat. "If you choose not to take me up on my offer, I'll understand, but I thought I would make it all the same."
She paused. Megan didn't have any idea what the other woman was talking about. She glanced at Justin. He shrugged.
"It would be a simple thing to explain to people that the two of you left Landing last night, rather than this morning." Mrs. Dobson looked at Megan and nodded significantly. "If you get my meaning."
At first Megan didn't. Then she understood. The widow was offering to tell everyone that Megan and Justin had been married before she'd spent the night in his hotel room. The lie would go a long way to salvaging her reputation. She looked at Justin. "What do you think?"
"It's up to you."
She studied the handsome lines of his face. The scar on his chin, the full mouth, the dark eyes. Familiar yet unfamiliar. He was her husband now. He was also a stranger. They were finally married—seven years too late. Or was it? He hadn't forgiven her for what had happened between them. Was this wedding the finest form of revenge? Did he plan to exact a price for the rest of her life? Or was their marriage a second chance? Would it give them the time to learn about each other and perhaps even fall in love again? Did marrying him to protect her reputation mean she was destined to an unhappy life? Did she want the marriage to be successful?
She waited, hoping he would give her a hint as to what he was thinking, but he didn't. It was her decision. To save herself and begin with a lie, or to begin with honesty. To begin as she meant to go on.
She turned to Mrs. Dobson. "No lies," she said. "Let them think what they want. I'm not afraid."
"I'm not afraid." Easy words for Megan to say while they were still two hours away from Landing, Justin thought. More difficult to believe now, as they drove into town.
He could feel her apprehension. She huddled close to him on the seat. Behind them, Mrs. Dobson and Bonnie had grown silent. It was late afternoon. Before starting the long journey back, they'd stopped and eaten. At the time, Justin had wondered if Megan was putting off the inevitable. Did she already regret the wedding?
He told himself he didn't know that for sure, but he couldn't let go of the thought. Why wouldn't she regret it? He was still just that bastard, Justin Kincaid.
His hands tightened on the reins and the black gelding tossed his head. Justin loosened his grip and took a deep breath. He had to consider the facts. First of all, he wasn't just that bastard kid anymore. He was the sheriff. Seven years had passed. He was older and, hopefully, wiser. He and Megan were married. That couldn't be undone. Even if she wanted it to be.
The horse trotted down the main street, past the hotel, | past the new saloon. The animal's pace increased as he ap- j parently realized he was close to home. Justin reined him in. They had to take Mrs. Dobson to her house first. He felt Megan inhale sharply. He glanced at her. She'd put on a bonnet to protect her skin from the bright spring sun. Gloves covered her pale hands and she'd pulled a thin shawl over her bare shoulders and bosom. She looked every inch a lady.
But she was still wearing her Worth gown. She'd still spent the night in his hotel room, then disappeared with him out of town that morning. People were talking. And stopping to stare. And pointing. He was used to being the center of attention, but she wasn't. He could feel her shrinking against him.
"Take me to the store," Mrs. Dobson ordered from the seat behind theirs.
