Marshal's Law

Epilogue

Epilogue

“We’re just at that age . . .” Roxie quipped, letting the tease trail into silence. 

Monica sighed blissfully, the emotion of the room buoying her.  Dropping her lips to kiss the bundle in her arms, she hid her features against his sweet cheek for just a moment.  It was harder to keep the tears at bay than she’d thought it’d be.

“Oh, Roxie, hush,” Susan chided from her bed. “Not like this is the first baby you've seen.”

“Yeah, but Monica?” Roxie said. “A grandma?  Come on, she’s my sister.”

Monica laughed lightly and shrugged it off. “These things happen.”

Outside the cramped hospital room, carts and footfalls made a steady drone of noise; but inside, the family spoke with a reverent hush.  She’d come to offer her support to Mark and Susan, the new parents; to promise that sleep and life, however different, would one day resume.  Instead, she found herself in the chair of honor.  She held the baby.

“He’s perfect,” she murmured, tempted to stroke the long eyelashes that lay over his plump cheeks. “And so pink.” 

“Pink is good,” Marshal rumbled next to her.  His arm thrown across the back of the couch, he peered at the newest member of the family from over her shoulder. 

Lifting her eyes to her husband, she blinked away the tears clinging to her thick lashes. “I’m a grandma.”

“Yeah, well,” Roxie said, waving it off with a flick of her wrist. “That’s what you get for marrying a man fifteen years your senior.”

At her elbow, Ashley giggled. “Could you imagine Marshal’s reaction if I were to bring home a man fifteen years older than me?”

Marshal’s eyebrows rose until they disappeared into the unruly hair that tumbled over his forehead.  His lips puckered speculatively, doing interesting things to the bristle of his mustache.  

“You can call him dad, you know,” Luke reminded her.

Ashley blushed and dropped her eyes back to the baby. “I will,” she said. “One day.”

The baby’s face screwed into a pucker.  He wiggled a complaint until Monica eased the tight swaddle.  Tiny fingers curled around the edge of the blanket, just by his cheek.  The room chorused with quiet, “oh’s.”

A new life.  A fresh start.  The baby in her arms was all possibilities.

But then, so was her sister- all energy and possibilities.  Or, at least, she always had been.  Monica turned her gaze up and her heart wrenched at what she saw.  Laughing a little too gaily with Kody, Roxie’s once bright hair was dyed an off chestnut color, her clothes bagged away from her frame, and her eyes were shadowed.  Her bruises long healed, she was still haunted.  Monica already knew she wouldn’t stay here, couldn’t stay here.  She’d only come to see Monica and the new grandmother knew it.  As soon as she boarded a plane home, Roxie would disappear to wherever she’d come.

No one knew where that was. 

Monica’s eyes dropped back to the baby but her teeth worried at her bottom lip as she worried for her sister.

“Whatcha fretting over this time?” Marshal asked into her ear.

Her eyes jumped to her sister and, of course, Marshal understood.  They all did.  But they all felt powerless to help. He dropped his arm over her shoulders and she leaned against him, absorbing the comfort he offered. 

“She’ll find her strength again,” he promised gruffly into her ear. “She’s just got to heal.”

Monica sighed.  She once thought her life was over- reduced to commitment and obligations.  She breathed.  She worked.  She gave her children what she could, but after the death of Jason, her first husband, she felt like everything colorful and warm had been stripped out of the world. 

Now her eyes glistened with happy tears.  It had taken faith and strength and she never could have done it alone, but she knew the truth now.  There could be life . . . and love . . . after death.

Now she wanted the same for her sister.