Christine Johnson - The Marriage Barter

He found the stable boy dozing on a pile of straw in an empty stall, pitchfork cast aside. Wyatt smiled. No doubt the lad had been up since dawn mucking out the stable. Wyatt’s father had worked him just as hard. A farmer’s work is never done, his pa had told him more times than Wyatt could remember. But Wyatt didn’t love the Illinois farm the way his father had. For as long as he could remember, he’d dreamed of adventure. When the war started, he’d enlisted and never went back. Now it was too late; too late to make amends, too late to explain, too late to tell his father that he’d made the wrong choice. If only they’d reconciled before Pa died.

Life was littered with regrets. Wyatt let the stable boy sleep. He could saddle his own horse.

Dusty snorted when Wyatt drew near, as if to say he didn’t think much of being stuck in a stable. Like Wyatt, his horse spent most days out in the open. They’d traveled across the country together and slept under the stars at night. Dusty had been his only friend. He was also just as stubborn and ornery.

Wyatt flung the saddle blanket on Dusty’s back, and the horse’s ears pricked in anticipation.

“That’s right, boy. We’re heading out onto the prairie.” He patted Dusty’s flank. “A little air’ll do us both good.”

“Leavin’ town?”

Wyatt whirled around to see Sheriff Mason Wright standing outside the stall. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

The sheriff didn’t betray an ounce of emotion. “We all got a job to do.” His hard blue eyes pierced through Wyatt, as if trying to read his motives, but Wyatt was good at masking his intentions.

He turned back to saddling Dusty. “You’re right about that. It’s a job.”

“Must pay right fine to work for someone like Baxter.”

Wyatt narrowed his eyes. His gut had warned him not to trust Baxter, and now the sheriff had seconded it. He wasn’t about to tip his hand, though. “Well enough.” He hefted his saddle off the rail.

“Then you are going before the judge.”

“I was hired to bring the orphans to Greenville. Your mayor can drag her heels all she wants, but in the end, they’re going where they belong.”

The sheriff didn’t argue that they should stay in Evans Grove like pretty near everyone else here. Instead, he stroked his mouth, deep in thought. “I see you’re a man of conviction. Probably no use trying to change your mind.”

“That’s right.” Wyatt set the saddle on Dusty’s back. “I trust you’ll uphold the judge’s decision.”

“That’s my job.” But he didn’t sound pleased. A slight tick at the corner of Wright’s mouth betrayed more than passing interest in the outcome of that decision.

Wyatt had no idea what that interest might be, nor did he want to know. A tracker did not get personally involved in others’ lives. “Glad to hear it.”

He hoped their conversation was over, but the sheriff showed no sign of leaving. “Thought you might give up.”

“I never give up.”

“That’s what I heard.”

Ordinarily, that would be a compliment, but Wright said it like he was condemning Wyatt for being inflexible.

“You of all people must understand the law can’t be broken.”

The sheriff had a casual manner about him that belied his true intensity. “It can be changed, though.”

“Too late for that.” Wyatt was getting tired of this conversation. He wished Wright would either get to the point or leave him alone. He cinched the saddle. “I’m not trying to hurt anyone.”

“Now, that’s going to be tough, isn’t it? Take Widow Miller, for one.”

“Mrs. Miller?” Wyatt’s hands stilled as the pretty woman’s face floated into his head. Something about her drew him like iron to a magnet. “I said the orphans already taken could stay.”

“But she’s a widow now, and only married couples can take in an orphan. Sounds to me like you’ll be taking Sasha with you.”

Wyatt stiffened. Sasha was the whole reason he’d agreed to let the already-placed orphans stay. He couldn’t rip the little girl from Charlotte’s arms. Never in a million years. He couldn’t take Sasha, who had trusted him wholly, to Greenville to be given to another family, end up in Baxter’s orphanage or go back to New York. The whole idea made him sick.

The sheriff drove his point home. “How’s that going to feel, knowing you took a four-year-old girl from her loving mother?”

Wyatt steeled himself. Get in, do the job and get out. No emotional attachments. He couldn’t afford them if he was ever going to get to San Francisco. “That’s not my problem. I’m just upholding the law, the same as you.”

The sheriff grunted. “Guess that’s one way of looking at it.”

“Do you have another way?” Wyatt snapped.

“Like I said, only married couples can take in orphans.”

Wyatt didn’t miss the emphasis on married. The man must be out of his mind. “What do you expect me to do about that?”

Wright tapped his fingers on the stall door. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Neither would I.”

Still, Wright didn’t leave. “You could help the other families. If those kids have to go to Greenville, there’ll be more broken hearts.”

“That’s not my problem, Sheriff. I’m here to do a job. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Too bad.” The sheriff paused before backing away. “Just want you to know that I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Reed.”

Now, that sounded like a warning.

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