Rhonda Gibson - The Marshal's Promise

Rebecca shook her head no. “I had two cups already this morning. But thank you.”

Mrs. Miller nodded. “Well, then in that case, go sit down in the parlor and look at the new mail-order catalogue. It’s on the table by the window. I have a chocolate cake to check on.” She led the way into the parlor without giving Rebecca a chance to reply.

She sniffed the air appreciatively. The smell of baking chocolate cake caused her tummy to rumble. Rebecca sat down and wondered if Mrs. Walker would give the ham to Josiah. She had to know that the Millers were getting it for her. And, what had Mrs. Miller meant by calling Mrs. Walker a gossip? Had the local gossips been talking about her?

* * *

Seth rode into town by the light of the moon. His body ached from being in the saddle for almost two days straight. Had the Evans gang tried to contact Rebecca again during his absence? He didn’t think so, and even if they had, the reverend had promised to keep an eye on her.

Reverend James Griffin was a small man with a big attitude. He wouldn’t have allowed the gang to get within ten feet of Rebecca, of that Seth was sure. He had seen the little traveling preacher stand up to some pretty tough guys and not back down. He thought about riding over to the church but decided against it. The hour was late and he was bushed. Tomorrow would be soon enough to talk to James.

He rode his horse back to the barn and bedded him down. The stallion nudged him gently when he gave him fresh water and oats, as if to say thank-you. Seth finished up and then continued to the house. He opened the door and immediately became aware of the delicious scent of fresh bread and coffee.

With a will of their own, his tired legs carried him to the kitchen. His eyes widened when he saw Rebecca sitting in a chair but slumped over the table. One arm was stretched out and her head rested on it. Fear welled in his chest. Was she hurt? Had the Evans gang left her there as a warning?

He hurried to her side. Oh, Lord, please let her be all right. Seth sent the silent prayer heavenward and then reached out and touched her cheek. It felt soft and warm.

Rebecca jerked away from him. Her sleep-filled eyes resembled an owl. She stood so fast that her chair slid backward and hit the wall with a loud thud.

Seth held up both hands. “Easy, it’s just me.”

Her gaze darted to him and then about the room. A shaky hand came up to her throat. “You scared me,” she accused.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He moved to pick up the chair and she skittered away from him to the other side of the room.

Seth searched her face and saw that her eyes still seemed glazed over with sleep. “Rebecca, are you awake?” he asked softly.

She looked at him once more. Rebecca’s voice came out soft, velvety. “Seth?”

“Yes, it’s me.” He sat down and laid his hands on the table. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her more.

She yawned and pulled out the seat across from him. “When did you get home?”

Home. Seth looked about the clean room. A pot of coffee and a fresh loaf of bread rested on the stove. What would it be like to come home to Rebecca every night?

“Marshal?”

Seth looked back at her eyes. She was alert now. Did she even realize she’d called him by his first name? He cleared his throat. “Just a little while ago. What are you still doing here?”

She stood and poured them both a cup of the aromatic coffee. “I have been staying late so that if you came home, you’d have a hot meal.” Rebecca set a cup in front of him. “I must have fallen asleep tonight.” She sipped at the hot beverage.

“You stayed all night?” he asked, praying the local gossips didn’t know if she had.

Rebecca shook her head. “No, I’ve been going home and would have been gone tonight, but as you know, I fell asleep.”

He studied her. She’d waited for him, like a wife waits up for her husband. The thought touched a part of his heart that he hoped to keep locked away from her. Her blond hair had come down and brushed the sides of her face, giving her a vulnerable look. Normally clear sharp eyes now were clouded with the remains of sleep, giving her the look of someone who yearned for tenderness and love. He wanted to reach out and hug her to him, to absorb the softness that her sleep-filled eyes promised. But he knew that would never happen. He couldn’t allow it to.

A light pink flush filled her cheeks. “Are you hungry? Would you like for me to fix you something to eat?”

“No, I think we’d better get you home before the gossips find out how late you were here tonight.” He pushed back his chair and walked toward her, surprised when she didn’t move. He held out his hand and waited until she took it. Then he helped her from the chair.

“Thank you.” She looked up into his eyes and a small smile tilted the edge of her mouth. “I probably should have gone on home, but I was starting to worry about you. Where have you been?”

Seth liked the idea that someone worried about him. He pushed the warm feeling away and released her hand. He’d had that kind of love three years ago, but Clare had paid the ultimate price for their love. “I picked up a prisoner and took him to Durango. I’m sorry I worried you.”

Rebecca walked to the front door and pulled her shawl from the nail. “It’s all right. I know your job is a dangerous one—that’s the only reason I worried.” She opened the door.

The night had grown colder and he wondered if her shawl would be enough to keep her warm. Pulling the door closed behind him, Seth took her elbow and helped her down the three short steps. “I think we’d better talk about your hours. The thought of you walking home this late doesn’t sit well with me.”

She looked over at him. Under the moon’s light, her hair created the illusion that she had a halo over the crown of her head. “You might be right.”

“You can continue to come in the mornings at the same time, but I really think you should return home before dark.” Seth stepped up on the wooden sidewalk and helped her to do the same.

The hem of her skirt brushed the wood and snagged on a nail. Rebecca bent to work the cloth free. Her words floated up to him. “I did the first night you were gone and my roast and potatoes were ruined.” She stood. “I’m surprised you didn’t stop by to tell me you were going.”

Seth pulled his shoulders up straighter. The accusing sound of her voice struck a chord in him. Who did she think she was? His mother? Wife? Fiancée? Fresh, painful thoughts of Clare filled him once more. No, Rebecca Ramsey wasn’t his fiancée. That position had been Clare’s alone. He didn’t owe Rebecca an explanation. “I didn’t think about it.”

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