Renee Ryan - The Marshal Takes a Bride

More agitated than before, Katherine trudged down the steps and started along the sidewalk that led from the orphanage to the Charity House School two doors away. The faint whinny of a horse in the distance had her looking up.

Realizing she wasn’t alone on the path, Katherine immediately stopped in her tracks. Two ladies slowly approached from the opposite direction. They were dressed in beautiful tight-waisted dresses in identical shades of pink satin. With each graceful step, their skirts billowed over their dainty feet. They shimmered in the morning light, looking like purity personified.

In spite of her best efforts to remain calm, instant trepidation sprang to life. Katherine knew these women. She had seen the two sitting together with their families in church. They were either sisters or very good friends, but Katherine had failed to find out which because no matter how often she smiled at them, they never acknowledged her in return.

The reflex to rush back into Charity House came fast, nearly too powerful to resist. But Katherine was no coward. Thus, she held her ground and took courage in the last line from Psalm 31. Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord.

As the two drew nearer, Katherine lifted her chin a little higher. They studied her from under the brim of their feathered hats. Their gazes were unreadable but not overly antagonistic. Pleased the women hadn’t snubbed her right away, Katherine smiled.

“Good morning,” she said.

The taller woman grabbed the elbow of the smaller and pulled her closer, as though she were saving her from stepping in a cow pie. A snarled lip confirmed her disgust.

Katherine swallowed down the bile rising in her throat. A shiver slithered up her spine, and her hands started to shake.

Oh, please, Lord, not again.

Her prayer went unanswered. As one, the ladies lifted their regal noses in the air, snorted—they actually snorted!—and all but scrambled across the street in their haste to get to the other side.

Stunned, Katherine’s eyes began to sting, and she had to fight a wave of hysteria as their pointed whispers lifted in the air.

“Tramp,” one said to the other, menace dripping in her voice. “She’s just like her mother.”

“I heard she led that man on,” came the harsh reply.

At that comment the women turned back and stared at Katherine from over their shoulders. From the measuring glint in their eyes, it was obvious they thought very little of her.

Katherine had experienced this sort of shunning often enough before, but the pain and humiliation were still sharp, like burning shards stabbing into her heart. For several heartbeats, Katherine stood with her head high and her breath stuck in her throat.

On her left, the Charity House School stood like a sentinel, offering sanctuary. Giving in to her humiliation, Katherine rushed up the steps and quickly fit the key into the lock.

Once inside the safety of the building, she leaned back against the shut door and gulped for air. Blinking away the tears in her eyes, she swallowed hard, again and again and again, until she had her emotions under control. Katherine would not allow those cruel women’s barbs to hit their mark. Not today. Not ever.

At last her breathing evened out, and she wandered aimlessly through the rooms of the school. Unfortunately, and against her best efforts, Katherine’s thoughts kept circling back to what the women had said on the street.

She’d led that man on.…

No. It wasn’t true. Katherine hadn’t asked to be forced like that. All her life she’d kept her distance from men. They’d always scared her, a legacy from the ugly side of their nature, which she’d witnessed often enough in her mother’s brothel.

And no matter what people claimed about her, Katherine would never have relations with a man, not willingly. Which made Laney’s accusations about her feelings for Trey Scott all the more absurd. The man was too intense, too dangerous, and…and…Katherine had worked too hard to achieve normalcy in her life to give any man—especially a lawman with a death wish—the power to hurt her again.

With her head thick and heavy from her troubling thoughts, Katherine prayed for focus. O Lord, be not silent. Do not be far from me.

She looked around her and studied the safe world she’d created out of an incomplete education and necessity.

No man could hurt her here.

This was her territory. Her home. The one place where she had complete control. Each desk, book and writing tablet had been chosen with care. She and Laney had turned the two-story brick building into a reputable school for the children banished from all the others in town.

She and the orphans might be outcasts in the community, but they had a place of belonging here.

Katherine crossed to her desk and straightened a stack of papers that didn’t need straightening. The fresh smell of soap and furniture polish told her Mrs. Smythe had indulged in some deep cleaning earlier this morning.

Strolling through her domain, Katherine released a sigh. Every detail reflected her taste for precision and order.

Admit you have strong feelings for Trey Scott…

Laney’s words from the night before echoed through Katherine’s thoughts. Taunting her. Mocking her. Far worse than any whispered attempts at hurting her with untrue accusations.

Frantic for some relief, she wove her way between the desks and trekked toward the supply closet in the back of the building. After lighting a lantern, she carried it with her into the dark, tiny room.

Katherine’s trademark military-style order was reflected here as well. Inkwells, writing tablets and fresh sticks of chalk marched in straight rows along the lower two shelves on her left. More writing tablets were stacked on the upper shelves, along with rulers and other miscellaneous supplies.

Katherine set down the lantern and breathed in the comforting scent of books and paper. She ran her fingertip across the cold inkwells, and then along the smooth book spines. But even here, in her favorite refuge, thoughts of Trey Scott threatened her peace of mind.

What if she hadn’t flinched from his touch? Would such a man ever be able to give her the genuine caring and devotion she secretly craved, in spite of what others thought of her?

She was only kidding herself with dreams of the impossible. No man would give her the love and respect that another, untainted woman deserved. Her attacker, and the subsequent response from the townspeople, had shown Katherine exactly what her value was in this world.

Anyone who trusts God will never be put to shame.

The verse from Romans swept through her mind, giving her the reassurance she sought. Ever since that dark night, Katherine had turned to God as her salvation. And she’d always found peace in His shelter.

His opinion was all that mattered. Today would be no exception. Instead of feeling sorry for herself, she would take a quick inventory of her supplies.

She focused her attention of the rows of Michel’s Geography and The Pilgrim’s Progress on her right. Looking forward to the mind-numbing task, she dropped to the floor and began counting the books on the bottom shelves first. She had to bend all the way over in order to reach the books nudged in the farthest back corner.

“Ten, eleven, twelve.” She jabbed at the last one. “That makes thirteen. I’ll definitely have to order more this week.”

“Well, now.” The familiar drawl dropped through the stuffy air and skidded down the back of Katherine’s neck. “This is by far the most interesting sight I’ve seen all morning.”

Katherine jerked upward and promptly thumped her head against the shelf above her. “Don’t you know how to knock?”

A masculine chuckle was Trey’s only response.