Free The Lawman Claims His Bride (Love Inspired Historical) by Renee Ryan Page B

of all that the orphanage stood for.
    Even her charity work at Mattie’s brothel had been done by Bella first. Nothing Megan had ever done in her life was a reflection of who she was as a person, or as a woman.
    Who was she then, really?
    She wanted to know the answer. Craved it. But until her memory returned she feared she would be at a disadvantage. How could one know oneself when parts were missing?
    Bella released her hand and then swept her fingertips across Megan’s forehead again. “You’re a little warm.”
    Megan snapped her eyes open. Everything in her hurt, her head, her body, maybe even her soul, an ache borne from her helplessness. “It’s...it’s stuffy in here.”
    “Is it?” Bella looked around the tiny jail cell. “I was thinking it was a bit drafty.”
    For some reason, the offhand remark loosened the tears Megan had barely gotten under control once before. But she couldn’t cry. Not now. She swiped at her damp cheeks with the back of her wrist.
    Wordlessly, Bella pulled Megan into her arms. “Go ahead, my friend. Cry. It’s a perfectly acceptable reaction to all that’s happened to you.”
    “No.” Megan shook her head sternly. “No. It’s my wedding day. I will not cry on my wedding day.”
    “Megan, don’t do this to yourself.” Bella shifted to her left and sighed. “You’ve been through a waking nightmare, with a portion of your memory locked deep inside your mind as a result. There’s no shame in a few tears.”
    “No,” Megan said again. “I’m getting married today, to the man I love. I’m supposed to be happy. I...I...” Megan let her words trail off as a memory shoved for release.
    She closed her eyes and grasped for it, but the elusive thought was just out of reach. Like always.
    There had to be a way to unlock her mind. She thought briefly of praying, but no words formed in her head.
    Bella patted her arm. “Look at me, Megan.”
    She slowly opened her eyes again, stricken and uneasy but determined to hide her suffering from her friend.
    “Here’s what I know for sure.” Bella smiled kindly, tugging a handkerchief from her sleeve and handing it over to Megan. “God never gives us more than we can bear, at least not with Him by our side. You’re a strong woman, Megan, but sometimes even strong women need to call on the Lord for help. With His assistance, you will get through this.”
    Megan wasn’t so sure.
    “I also know that crying, when done properly, is never a sign of weakness but a show of strength.”
    Megan blinked at the sheer cloth in her hand. “Perhaps that’s true, for you,” she said, holding on to her emotions by a thread. “You are, after all, a famous opera singer known for her dramatic range.”
    “Then I’d say that makes me something of an expert, wouldn’t you?”
    Megan managed a wavering smile. Obviously, she wasn’t going to win this battle of words with her friend. But she wasn’t going to cry either. No more tears on her wedding day. No. More. Tears.
    “Well.” Bella rose and stretched out her hand. “If you aren’t going to indulge in a good cry, like any self-respecting female would, let’s get you dressed for your wedding.”
    Instinct told Megan to focus on one thing at a time, and not get ahead of herself. Forcing a smile onto her lips, she took Bella’s outstretched hand and stood. “All right. What have you brought me?”
    “Let’s see.” Bella sorted through the pile of dresses. “What about—” she picked up one, quickly discarded it, went for another but eventually settled on yet a third “— this one.”
    Smiling in triumph, she raised the light blue silk dress. “It’s one of my favorites.”
    Megan let her gaze linger on the gown. The thin line of navy lace running along the collar and cuffs looked far too delicate to touch, much less wear. “It’s too elegant.”
    “It’s perfect. Here. Let’s see how it looks against your skin.”
    With shaking hands, Megan took the dress and held it up