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"Never!" His eyes widened and all color fled his face. "Never. liar. Whore. You must be stopped! You must be punished!"
Megan stared at him. She'd never seen Gene like this. Her heart thundered in her chest and she started inching sideways along the counter. He was crazy.
Before she could duck away, he grabbed her arm. "It is the will of God. You must be punished." He raised his hand high. She twisted, but he didn't release her. She steeled herself for the blow.
It never came. Suddenly, Gene was wrenched away from her. He flew across the kitchen and hit the back door before sliding into a heap on the floor.
"If you ever touch my wife again, I'll kill you," Justin said through clenched teeth. He towered over the fallen man. "Get up, you worthless piece of—"
"Justin?"
He turned toward her. Fire burned in his dark eyes. Not the fire of passion, but something darker and more deadly. She didn't recognize this man at all. Even so, she trusted him. She ran to his side.
"Hush, Megan. It's all right."
Gene rose slowly to his feet. "This isn't finished," he said.
Justin stiffened but didn't move. "I've warned you. Your being a man of God doesn't make a damn bit of difference tome."
The minister glared at him, then stumbled out the back
door. When he was gone, Megan gave in to the trembling
and clung to Justin. He held her tightly against him. His
hands felt warm and sure as they moved up and down her
t back.
"Dammit it all to hell, Megan, why didn't you call me?"
"I didn't think of it."
"Why the hell not?"
"Stop swearing at me." She shifted her face against his chest and inhaled the scent of him. He'd come to her rescue. Despite the mistakes she might have made last night, he cared enough to defend her. The thought left her giddy with relief.
"Did he hurt you?"
She shook her head.
"Megan." He took a step back and glanced down at her. "Are you sure?"
One of his hands closed over her upper arm. Before she could fight back the sound, she whimpered. Justin turned her so she was facing the lamp on the kitchen table and studied the darkening red marks. They were large and the exact shape of a man's fingers, standing out garishly on her pale skin.
He cursed low and long, using words she hadn't heard before. "I should have killed him," he muttered.
"It's nothing. Besides, you're the sheriff. You can't go around killing people just because you want to."
"A lot of good being sheriff does me, if I can't even protect my wife."
Gene had scared her with his physical violence, and worried her with his threats of turning the town against her. But none of that mattered. She glanced up at Justin's familiar face, noting the intensity in his stare and the straight set of his mouth. His large body vibrated with the need for revenge. The burning behind her eyes returned, but this time it wasn't from sadness or confusion. It was from happiness.
He looked down at her. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?" She sniffed.
"Like I'm responsible for the sun coming up in the morning."
She smiled and could feel her mouth trembling. "You defended me."
"You're my wife, Megan. What would you have me do?"
"No one's ever defended me before."
His stare intensified and she had to look down as she realized how close they were standing and how silent it was in the kitchen. She could hear the ticking of the clock in the hallway and the echoing beating of her own heart.
A few minutes ago, she'd run to Justin without thinking about what she was doing. Now, with less than a foot separating them, she wanted to hold him again. She v/anted to feel his body pressed against hers, to inhale his scent and
steal his heat. He'd defended her because she was his wife. If only he knew how willing she was to take on every part of that role. Or did he already know and not care?
She stood there in front of him, her head bowed, her heart praying. But he didn't touch her. The moments ticked along. At last, he moved to one side and glanced into the hamper.
"What's this?" he asked.
"Mrs. Dobson sent a cold supper."
"It looks good. I'll go get Bonnie."
She watched him leave the room and listened for the sound of his footsteps on the stairs. Tonight she would be alone in her narrow bed with only her memories to keep her warm. A single tear slipped down her cheek.
