The Lawman Claims His Bride
For five years, U.S. Marshal Logan Mitchell has dreamed of returning to his sweetheart in Denver.He never imagined he'd find Megan Goodwin locked in a prison cell. Megan has no memory of what happened the night the outlaw was murdered. And though Logan is sure of her innocence, proving it is only half the battle. Remembering the killer's identity will clear Megan's name but could lead danger right to her door. Logan will protect her life with his. But forging a true marriage takes trust, faith and the courage to open their hearts to God's plan–wherever it leads….
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A row of impenetrable iron bars stood between Logan and the woman he loved.
He balled his shooting hand into a tight fist. The urge to hit something, or someone, came fast, but he reminded himself heâd taken a different path than his brother. Still, a low growl of frustration rumbled deep in his throat.
At the sound, Megan looked up and slowly turned her head.
Their gazes met.
Loganâs heart pummeled his rib cage. The brutal assault made each intake of air a struggle.
Lost in her eyes, a compelling tapestry of silver over blue, he experienced a deep sensation of completion. The emotion was so simple, so pure, he wondered how heâd been able to walk away before.
Well, he was home now.
âLogan?â A little sigh slipped from her lips. âIs it really you?â
âYes, Megan.â He forced his words around the breath clogging in his throat. âIâve come for you, just like I promised.â
RENEE RYAN
grew up in a small Florida beach town. To entertain herself during countless hours of âlying outâ she read all the classics. It wasnât until the summer between her sophomore and junior years at Florida State University that she read her first romance novel. Hooked from page one, she spent hours consuming one book after another while working on the best (and last!) tan of her life.
Two years later, armed with a degree in economics and religion, she explored various career opportunities, including stints at a Florida theme park, a modeling agency and a cosmetics conglomerate. She moved on to teach high school economics, American government and Latin while coaching award-winning cheerleading teams. Several years later, with an eclectic cast of characters swimming around in her head, she began seriously pursuing a writing career.
She lives an action-packed life in Georgia, with her supportive husband, lovely teenage daughter and two ornery cats who hate each other.
Many are the plans in a manâs heart, but it is the Lordâs purpose that prevails.
âProverbs 19:21
To Donnell Ann Bell, my favorite pair of fresh eyes.
Thank you, my friend, for all the times you answered the call for a âquickâ favor. I owe you more than words can express.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
Chapter One
Denver, Colorado, 1888.
Megan Goodwin had not intended to die today. But as she stared at the knife inches from her throat, she feared her plans were about to change.
Yet to face her end in a brothel, the same one where her mother had died five years before, was simply unacceptable.
Frozen in terror, she watched the knifeâs deadly point creep closer.
Megan prayed for courage to face the next few minutes. Oh, Lord. Oh, God, please help me.
She lifted the silent appeal to the God sheâd counted on her whole life.
Where was Mattie? The madam had promised to return shortly. Sheâd left Megan here in the safety of her private boudoir, out of sight and hidden from Cole Kincaid.
Heâd found her anyway.
Gritting her teeth, Megan forced her gaze to stay on his face, if only to prove to herself she still had some control of the situation.
He was big, just over six feet. His face was hideous, all flat planes, sallow skin and dark, dirty beard. He had small, black eyes. Mean eyes. The eyes of a killer. Theâ
He yanked her head back with a hard tug, cutting off the rest of her thoughts. Small white dots of light burst in front of her eyes.
Sheâd done nothing to warrant this savage attack. Nothing, except put herself in the wrong place at the wrong time for what she thought was the right reason. The act of kindness might be her last.
Cole eased his grip from her hair and lowered the knife, shoving her back against the divan. âLetâs have us some fun, shall we?â His voice had a soft note to it, as though he were suggesting they share a cup of tea.
The man was a monster.
Megan pulled her gaze from him and focused instead on the room that had been intentionally decorated for sin. Beneath the expensive silk and garish furnishings hung a decadence that spoke of the ugly work performed here.
So this was it, then? This chamber of wickedness was where she would die? No matter that sheâd lived a pure life, no matter that sheâd been raised in a Christian orphanage across town, sheâd failed to escape her motherâs vile world after all.
âLook at me,â Cole snarled.
When she kept her gaze averted, he muttered a curse and clutched her jaw, forcing her head around. âMattie shouldnât keep a pretty thing like you hidden from her paying customers.â
The smell of whiskey and week-old sweat trailed in the wake of his words. He swayed, just a little, but enough to tell Megan heâd consumed quite a bit.
