Page 71 of Magnolia Summer

The thought of marrying Truett terrified her, sending panic straight to her toes. At the same time, it also filled her with longing and delicious anticipation.

Celia bent over and moaned into her hands. “Oh, Lord, this is terrible.” She shook her head. “I’mterrible.”

Celia had never been one to ask her mother for advice. But right now she wished she had someone—anyone—she could talk to. Were her fears irrational? She didn’t think so. There was a wanted poster with Truett’s face—er, mask—on it, and a sheriff with a complete disdain for the law out to get him.

I have to save him.

That was it. She had to take matters into her own hands and figure out a way to save Truett.

So if that was settled, why did her stomach feel sounsettled? Because she wasn’t sure she could save him, and she still didn’t know what was going to happen. If she was married, could she still take care of her family and open her own shop? How could she ask Truett to move with her to Nashville and leave his family and his medical practice behind in Bethel Springs?

He seemed willing to leave, but what would it cost him? His family needed him—his mother and Griff. How could they get along without him? And this town needed him. They would all hate her if she took him away.

To marry was to doom herself to long days trapped in a kitchen for the rest of her life. At least, that was what she had always thought. If she married now, so young, it would go against everything she had vowed never to do.

But then again, she’d already done things she thought she’d never do, starting with fainting at the sight of blood, then inviting a man to her house, then kissing him—not once, but several times!

Lizzie and Will had teased her about the way she had stayed out so long in the dark corner of the yard, alone with Truett Beverly. And tomorrow she’d have to deal with more of Lizzie’s raised eyebrows and secretive smiles, insinuating comments and hopeful inquiries about Truett.

But she had loved being with him, listening to him pour out his painful memories to her, feeling his pent-up emotion in the way he kissed her. Oh my. It was wonderful! But terrifying at the same time.

Celia held her stomach and leaned forward in her chair. “Oh, Lord, I don’t think I’ve ever felt more miserable in my life.”

* * *

Truett had never felt happierin his life.

In spite of his sore muscles and the fact that he hadn’t slept much, he whistled a lively tune as he unlocked his office door the next morning.

The night before, after his “meeting” with Celia, he and Will had waited outside the henhouse for the possum to come back. Sure enough, they hadn’t had to wait long before he showed himself. Truett handed the gun to Will and let him shoot it. Then he’d gone home to plan his proposal to Celia—which was what kept him up most of the night.

Strictly speaking, he’d already asked her to marry him, but he hadn’t done it right. The words had slipped out before he’d thought. Not that he didn’t mean them. His way of asking just wasn’t conducive to her taking him seriously and giving him an immediate answer. This time he would kiss herafterasking, instead of before . . . and during.

He took off his vest and was hanging it on its hook in the back room when the door opened and someone entered.

Truett turned to greet his first patient of the day.

Sheriff Suggs and Almira stood just inside the door, both staring at him with very different looks on their faces.

Almira’s face was red and puffy, her eyes wet. Her mouth hung open and she pierced Truett with a pleading, desperate look.

Sheriff Suggs’s face was hard and angry, his eyes black. A black shadow darkened his face, defying the early morning sunlight.

“Sheriff.” Truett nodded a cautious greeting. “Miss Almira.”

The sheriff was holding Almira by her arm, and he dragged her forward.

His insides knotted. “What can I do for you?”

“Doc, Almira finds herself in a bit of trouble. I want you to make the trouble go away.”

“What exactly is the trouble?” But he was afraid he knew.

Sheriff Suggs mouth twisted in an ugly half-grin. “She’s in the family way. And as you know, she ain’t married. And as you also know, she was raped.”

Almira let out a strangled cry, like a wild animal caught in a steel trap.

The sheriff yanked on her arm, making her cry out again. “But she don’t like to talk about it, as you can probably understand.”