desperately needing to read his mood. “We’re already late.”
“Casey, calm down a bit.” Morgan reached for her hand. “I’m the fancy lawyer here, and I’m waiting on one of the reverend’s prize-winning biscuits. I don’t have anything scheduled except you.”
“I think I’d rather get it over with.” Her stomach twisted.
“And we will, honey. A few more minutes won’t make any difference. I think you’ll be pleased with what I have to say.” He sounded so sweet and caring that she believed every word.
“All right.” The coffee did smell wonderful, even if the reverend’s strong brew tasted like prairie dirt, and she’d felt the pangs of hunger long before dawn.
“By the way, you look beautiful,” Morgan said.
The reverend chuckled. “I believe those are the words spoken by a man in love and looking forward to his wedding day. Mmm, wouldn’t a Christmas wedding be nice?”
Casey shook her head. “You two are a matched pair.” I’m not ready to get married. There’s too much left unsettled in my life.
“I’m taking my coffee up to Sarah’s room,” the reverend said. “I’ll be praying for you two this morning.”
Once the reverend disappeared, Morgan turned to her. “I’m sorry you had such a bad night. You look exhausted.”
“I really am all right. Tired mostly, and nervous about my case.”
He traced his finger on top of hers and grasped the cup. “Are those feelings why you’re avoiding me?”
“I haven’t been avoiding you.” But she had.
“Honey, something has had you upset since that afternoon at my office.”
“The problem isn’t you.” I can’t tell him I’m afraid of him.
He raised an eyebrow. A worry line etched across his forehead. “Are you having second thoughts about marrying me?” He breathed deeply. “You’re expecting the old Morgan to lash out at you without warning.”
While she scrambled for words, he must have realized the truth. He lifted her chin, and her gaze met his. “I’ll earn your trust, Casey. I won’t have you afraid of me.”
She turned her head. “Maybe I’m just like some scared cat with all that’s happening. It’s so hard to be cheerful around Sarah when I see her dying in front of me, and it hurts to see the reverend struggle with his emotions. Then I worry about Bonnie and Ben, afraid they will get caught in the middle of my problems. And you’re spending all your hours on this case to clear my name. Well, my jumpiness can’t possibly be your fault.”
He brushed a kiss across her fingertips, and she swallowed the lump in her throat, which lately seemed to accompany every waking moment.
“One day,” he began, “you and I will be able to put all the misunderstandings and problems of today behind us. Until then, we must talk. I can’t possibly know how you feel or what you’re thinking unless you tell me. Agreed?”
She nodded, and he patted the hand still within his grasp.
“It’s easier posing as Shawne Flanagan.” She attempted a smile.
“We’re about to remedy any more pretense. I believe you’re going to be pleased with what I’ve put together.”
*****
At ten thirty, Morgan ushered Casey into his law office. By then, they’d taken time to pray, and she’d relaxed a little—or so he hoped. He saw the fear in her eyes, and it had nothing to do with clearing her name. Perhaps a year ago, she might have hid it better. Back then, the wall she’d built around her didn’t leave a weak spot for emotions to take over. But she was incredibly strong, much more than she realized.
I’m to blame. He’d seized her trust, then threw it back in her face without explanation. He’d waited too long to tell her the truth about Kathleen, and he may have lost her for good. Perhaps battling for Casey’s love was Morgan’s most difficult struggle, but first he had to set her free from those who chased her.
She removed her shawl and laid it over a chair. With a sigh, she studied his few furnishings, then walked behind his desk to the bookcase filled with law books. Her fingers traced the engraved gold lettering along the spines as she moved from one to the other. “It’s dusty again,” she finally said.
“Sorry. I raised the window.” He studied her, wondering what was going on in her pretty head.
“These books teach you the laws of our country?”
He smiled. “Yes.”
She whirled around and returned his smile. “Morgan, you must be very smart.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
She wore a dark blue skirt and a white blouse. Her swept-up red-brown hair