“Can You Nurse Him Just for Once”? the Cowboy Pleaded — And the Obese Girl Held the Baby Close

Chapter 7

Dawn broke cold and clear. Thomas hitched the wagon before sunrise, his movements efficient and purposeful. Norah sat beside him, Grace bundled in her arms, her heart racing.

“Nervous?” he asked.

“Terrified.”

He took her hand. “Me too.”

They rode into town as church bells rang for Sunday service. The streets were full — people everywhere in their Sunday best, gathering in the square after the morning sermon. Thomas’s wagon rolled to a stop in front of the courthouse.

Conversations died. Heads turned. The angry rancher and the fat widow. Together.

Whispers erupted like wildfire. Thomas helped Norah down, his hand firm on her back, steady and unwavering. They walked toward the courthouse steps, where the circuit judge held weekend hours. The crowd parted, staring openly.

Then a voice rang out.

“Thomas Hayes.”

Sheriff Patterson pushed through the crowd, the boarding house matron beside him. Thomas turned slowly.

“Sheriff.”

“Mrs. Henderson filed a complaint. Says you’re keeping Miss Norah against her will. Living in sin.”

The crowd pressed closer, hungry for scandal.

Thomas’s voice was dangerously calm. “Norah is there by choice.”

“Doesn’t matter. Unmarried people living together breaks town ordinance. Marry her right now, or I enforce the complaint.”

Thomas turned to Norah. “That was the plan anyway.”

She nodded, her heart pounding. They climbed the courthouse steps together.

The judge stood in the doorway. “You want to marry now?”

“Right now,” Thomas said firmly.

“This is absurd,” the matron sputtered. “A forced marriage—”

“Nobody’s forcing me.” Norah’s voice rang out, clear and strong. She faced the crowd, her chin lifted. “I choose him.”

The judge pulled out his book. “Witnesses?”

Old Martha pushed forward from the crowd. “I’ll witness.”

The blacksmith stepped up. “Me as well.”

The judge opened his book. “Thomas Hayes, do you take this woman as your wife?”

“I do.”

“Norah, do you take this man as your husband?”

“I do.”

“Then by the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife.” He snapped the book shut. “Kiss your bride.”

Thomas cupped Norah’s face and kissed her. Right there on the courthouse steps, in front of the entire town, unashamed and unafraid. The crowd erupted in shocked gasps.

When Thomas pulled back, he turned to face everyone, his arm around Norah’s waist. “She’s my wife now. Legally. Anyone got a problem with that?”

Silence.

Then the matron spoke. “This doesn’t change what she is.”

“Careful.” Thomas’s voice cut like a blade. “You’re talking about my wife.”

“Everyone knows she trapped you—”

“She saved my daughter when every single one of you refused.” Thomas’s voice rang out across the square. “She saved my ranch. She saved me when I wanted to die from grief. So yes, she’s in my house, my life, my heart. And I’m damn proud of that.”

One of the boarding house girls called out, “You’ll regret this.”

Thomas stared at her. “The only thing I regret is that you’ll never know what it’s like to be loved the way I love my wife.”

He turned to the sheriff. “We done?”

Patterson nodded. “You’re married. Complaint dismissed.”

Thomas helped Norah into the wagon. But before he sat down, he stopped once more, standing in the seat so everyone could see.

“One more thing. Anyone who insults my wife insults me. Anyone who threatens her threatens my family.” His voice dropped to something cold and final. “And I protect my family. Remember that.”

Then he drove away.

The ride home was quiet. Thomas’s hand covered Norah’s on the seat between them.

“Mrs. Hayes,” he said softly.

She looked at him. “What?”

“Just wanted to say it.”

She smiled through tears. “I like the sound of that.”

Back at the ranch, the sun was setting, painting everything in shades of gold and amber. Thomas lifted Norah down from the wagon, his hands lingering at her waist. Then he took Grace from her arms, and they stood on the porch together, watching the sky change colors.

“Are you happy?” he asked quietly.

Norah looked at him. This man, broken by grief, who had learned to love again. Who had chosen her when the world said she wasn’t worth choosing. Who had stood on the courthouse steps and declared his love in front of everyone who had ever mocked her.

“I’m happy.”

Thomas shifted Grace to one arm and pulled Norah close. “Good. Because I plan to spend the rest of my life making sure you stay that way.”

Grace stirred in his arms, letting out a small, contented sound. Norah looked at her — at the healthy pink cheeks, the strong little hands, the bright eyes that had been so dull and dying just weeks ago.

“She’s beautiful,” Norah whispered.

“Like her mother.”

Norah’s heart swelled. “Both of them.”

Thomas kissed her forehead. “Both of them.”