Rhonda Gibson - The Marshal's Promise

What would have happened if the reverend hadn’t arrived when he did? Would Jacob have kidnapped her? Hurt her in some way? Taken her to Maxwell, the gang leader?

The reverend had said she’d been frightened. Had her blue eyes shown that fear? He wanted to hurry back to his house and pull her into his embrace. The thought of holding her and stroking her soft hair, inhaling the sweet fragrance of sweet vanilla that was her scent alone, pulled at him.

He gently kicked his mount’s sides and put both horses into a gallop. The sooner he got Jacob back to Durango, the sooner he could return to Cottonwood Springs and Rebecca. He told himself he only wanted to be by her side to protect her, but knew it wasn’t true.

Seth pulled the animal back and forced himself to remember why he and Rebecca could never be a couple. You are a U.S. Marshal and people who get too close to you die.

Chapter Seven

Rebecca frowned. Nothing had changed. The roast and potatoes still sat on the stove, now ruined. When Seth hadn’t answered the door, she and Grace had let themselves in. Now, seeing he hadn’t been home, Rebecca found herself chewing on her bottom lip.

“May I have a few cookies to take to school?” Grace asked, lifting the cloth from the desert.

She nodded and watched Grace take three. “I don’t think the marshal came home last night,” Grace said around a mouthful of cookie.

“No, I don’t think he did either.” Rebecca moved to the stove. She removed the pan from the stove and set it on the white cabinet. They hadn’t talked about what she should do, should he not come home.

Grace looked up at her. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure.”

The bell at the school rang. Grace started for the front door. “I have to go. Should I come by after school?”

“No, I think I’ll head home and when the marshal gets back, I’ll find out what I need to do in circumstances like this one.” Rebecca pulled her shawl closer about her shoulder and followed Grace outside.

Grace raced up the hill to the school. Hannah stood on the porch. She waved and Rebecca returned the gesture. Her new friend herded the children into the building much like a mother hen shelters its chicks from a spring rainstorm.

Rebecca decided to toss the meat and potatoes. She returned to the house and let herself in. What was she going to do with the ruined meat? Rebecca returned her shawl to the nail and walked into the kitchen. What she needed was a slop bucket. Her gaze moved about the kitchen.

A few moments later, she’d decided on a pan to use as a slop bucket. She dumped the meat and potatoes into it. Then she went outside to get water to wash the pot she’d dirtied the night before. Her gaze darted to the trees. Seeing no one, she hurried to pull the water up and go back inside.

While it heated, her thoughts went to Seth. Being a marshal, he probably didn’t come home every night. Why hadn’t she thought of that before? She rinsed out the coffeepot and began to make fresh coffee.

Her mind worked on what to do. She didn’t want to waste food, but she also didn’t want the marshal going hungry or having to eat at the diner in the evenings. If she didn’t come up with a solution fast, Rebecca reasoned she’d be out of a job.

Simple food, that’s what she needed to make. She needed to create easy meals so that no matter what time he came home, Seth Billings would have something good to eat. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. What had her mother fixed? Fresh bread came to mind.

Rebecca stood and began work. She’d make bread and see about buying a smoked ham. He’d be able to have a sandwich, if he came home too late. What else can I do? she asked herself as she worked.

As soon as the dough was rising, Rebecca headed to the general store for the ham she intended to buy. Normally she would have gone to the Millers’, but she knew that Mrs. Miller always purchased her meats from the general store.

Hot from the heat of the stove, she left her shawl hanging by the door and walked up the street. A light breeze lifted the hair off her damp neck.

Her gaze moved about as she thought of the man who’d visited with her the day before. She didn’t have the feeling he was around or watching her, and she relaxed. Maybe she’d been right in her assumption that she’d overreacted.

A small brass bell jingled overhead as she stepped inside. The delightful scents of cinnamon and fresh-baked banana bread greeted her. Her eyes widened as she looked around. Unlike the Millers’ store, this one was packed with sellable goods. Shelves filled with every kind food and household item she could imagine covered the walls. Glass jars holding lemon drops, peppermint sticks and other colorful candies stood next to the cash register. Baskets of apples, walnuts, potatoes and onions sat on the floor in front of the sales counter. Bolts of cloth and baskets of thread and notions covered the far wall. Rebecca made her way to the counter. She prayed Mrs. Walker, a round woman with black hair piled high and hazel eyes, would have a ham for sale.

“What can I help you with, Miss Ramsey?” Mrs. Walker asked without looking up from the ledger she was writing in.

Rebecca hadn’t expected Mrs. Walker to sound so frosty. She cleared her throat. “Do you have a ham that I can buy?”

The cool hazel eyes looked up at her. “There might be one in the smoke house, but it won’t be cheap,” she warned.

“Good. I’ll want it placed on the Marshal’s account.”

Mrs. Walker straightened. “I’m sorry, Miss Ramsey, but I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Rebecca asked, also pulling herself up to her full five feet two inches.

“The marshal has not approved you to make purchases on his behalf.” Her icy voice should have sent chills down Rebecca’s spine but had the opposite effect. Heat filled her face, neck and body. Anger boiled. The woman was treating her as if she was a criminal.

She took a deep breath. “Then I shall be making all future purchases from the Millers.” Rebecca turned, held her head high and walked from the store.

Out on the sidewalk she sighed. “Why did Mrs. Walker have to be so rude?” Rebecca marched down to the Millers’ store.

She squared her shoulders as she entered. It looked and smelled much like the general store, just not as crowded. Rebecca smiled as Mrs. Miller entered from the sitting room. “Hello, Mrs. Miller. How are you today?” she asked.

“Very well, thank you, Rebecca. What brings you in today?”

Rebecca took a deep breath. She really didn’t want to tell the other woman about her encounter with Mrs. Walker, but she didn’t see any way around it. “I went to see Mrs. Walker about acquiring a ham for the marshal and she refused to sell it to me.” The heat rose in her cheeks once more, this time from embarrassment more than anger.

“That old gossip! What excuse did she use?” Mrs. Miller placed her hands on her hips and waited.

“Gossip?” Rebecca didn’t understand what Mrs. Walker being a gossip had to do with her.

Mrs. Miller waved her hands as if it weren’t important. “That doesn’t matter, Rebecca. Why didn’t she sell you a ham?”

It did matter, but Rebecca knew no more information about Mrs. Walker would be coming from Mrs. Miller. “She said the marshal hasn’t given me permission to put anything on his account. She treated me like a criminal.”

Mrs. Miller yelled, “Josiah! Come here.”

Mr. and Mrs. Miller’s oldest son hurried into the room. “Yes, Ma?”

“Go to the general store and tell Mrs. Walker I need a ham.”

He nodded and hurried out the door.

“I’ll add the price of the ham to Seth’s account.” She wrote in her ledger and then turned back to Rebecca. “Would you like a cup of coffee while we wait, Rebecca?”