A bride without a groom

Mail-order bride Rebecca Ramsey arrives in the New Mexico territory full of dreams—but they’re shattered when she discovers her intended husband has been killed. If it weren’t for U.S. marshal Seth Billings’s housekeeping job offer, she’d have nowhere to go. Rebecca loves tending to Seth’s home, but the strong and silent lawman is harder to figure out. What secret is he hiding?

Caring for Jesse Cole’s would-be bride is the least Seth can do. If it weren’t for him, the young man would still be alive. Seth had promised to look after Rebecca—and to keep her safe from Jesse’s enemies. Now if only he can keep his heart safe, as well....

Seth felt closer to Rebecca than he’d ever felt to another woman.

But he knew that he wouldn’t put any woman through the dangers and loss of being married to a lawman. It had cost Clare her life, and that was before they’d even wed. Looking into Rebecca’s eyes, Seth knew her love would be true and strong.

“You are turning out to be a good friend, Seth,” Rebecca said.

Her gentle smile created a longing in him to take back her hand and never let it go. He told himself that this was a simple reaction from learning that Rebecca had suffered losses much like him.

He hated the thought that his actions had caused her even more loss. Jesse Cole would have been a good husband to her.

Once Rebecca learned the truth of the circumstances of Jesse’s death, would she still want to be friends with him?

RHONDA GIBSON

lives in New Mexico with her husband, James. She has two children and two beautiful grandchildren. Reading is something she has enjoyed her whole life, and writing stemmed from that love. When she isn’t writing or reading, she enjoys gardening, beading and playing with her dog, Sheba. She speaks at conferences and local writing groups. You can visit her at www.rhondagibson.com, where she enjoys chatting with readers and friends online. Rhonda hopes her writing will entertain, encourage and bring others closer to God.

The Marshal’s Promise
Rhonda Gibson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Many are the plans in a person’s heart,

but it is the Lord’s plan that prevails.

—Proverbs 19:21

Books are never written alone—friends and family are always supporting the author in various ways. This book is for Kathryn Velarde Baharmi and Janet Lee Barton. Thank you both

for all that you do for me. You are true sisters—maybe not blood, but definitely sisters.

James Gibson—

without you my idea well would surely run dry.

I love you more than words can express.

And above all to my Lord and Savior.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Cottonwood Springs, New Mexico Territory, 1885

“Please don’t cry, Miss Rebecca.”

“I’m not crying,” Rebecca Ramsey said, brushing at the tears that had caught her by surprise. “I— I’ve got something in my eye.”

Grace Miller’s young eyes chided her less-than-honest answer.

“Yes, I am crying. I shouldn’t have fibbed about it. Please forgive me?” At the child’s smile and nod, Rebecca continued, “It’s just that, I never expected Mr. Cole to be dead.” She’d never met the man she’d been engaged to marry in person, so the tears were more for her and what she’d lost than for Jesse Cole.

Rebecca tried to ignore the presence of U.S. Marshal Seth Billings, who stood beside the door. He had been the bearer of the bad news that her intended groom had been killed. Did he know she’d answered a mail-order-bride ad? Probably not.

He held his hat in his hands, waiting for her reaction. His broad shoulders seemed slumped under the tan shirt and brown vest he wore. There was a U.S. Marshal’s star on his chest. Her gaze moved upward to where his sorrowful brown eyes bored into hers.

The rich texture of his voice drifted across the short space between them. “I’ll be happy to pay your train ticket back to…” He stopped and looked at her.

The question in his eyes prompted her to say, “Maryland?”

“Maryland.” He nodded his head.

What did she have to go back to Maryland for? Her stepmother had made it clear she was no longer needed or welcome in her father’s house. The only job available to her, a woman of twenty, was personal maid to the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in Ellicott City.

Rebecca didn’t like the job or the daughter. No, Rebecca Ramsey would not be returning to Maryland anytime soon. She squared her shoulders and stood. “Thank you, Marshal, but that won’t be necessary.”

Seth Billings gritted his teeth; the muscles worked in his jaw. “What will you do, then?” His harsh words cut through her tattered emotions.

Fresh tears threatened to spill over. Rebecca cleared her throat. She wouldn’t let it close up on her now. “I will think of something, Marshal. Thank you for coming by and telling me about…” She couldn’t finish the sentence and the words hung in the tense room like the scent of burned bread. Rebecca focused on Grace’s small back as the child went into the kitchen.

“Well,” he said, turning back to the door, “if I can do anything to help you settle here in Cottonwood Springs, you let me know. Ya hear?”

Rebecca nodded, aware that the brown-eyed marshal no longer looked at her and really didn’t expect an answer. The door shut behind him. She blew her nose on the white handkerchief she kept tucked into her sleeve for just such occasions.

Mrs. Miller came into the room, wiping her hands on her apron. The aroma of freshly baked apple pies drifted into the room with her. “Is he gone?”

Nine-year-old Grace followed her mother back into the room. The little girl bit into a green apple and chewed, her gaze never leaving Rebecca’s face.

“Yes, he’s gone.”

The older woman eased into one of the overstuffed chairs. “So, now what are you going to do?”

Rebecca sighed. “I’m not sure.” The Millers had housed her since she’d arrived five days earlier. They’d given her a room and three square meals and allowed her to sit with them during church on Sunday. How was she going to repay them?

Her plans had been to have Jesse take care of those expenses when he returned to town. Now she knew he wasn’t coming. And she had no idea how to repay the debts she’d unknowingly accumulated.

Her temples began to ache. Silently she vowed to stay in New Mexico and not return to a family who didn’t want her around. “I suppose I’ll look for employment.” She rubbed the sides of her head as she paced the floor.

“I don’t think you have to make any rash decisions today, Rebecca. You’ve had a shock. Why don’t you go lie down until supper?” Mrs. Miller smiled at her. Pity laced her eyes and filled her oversize face.

Rebecca hated that look. She’d seen it in the eyes of her father’s friends many times after he’d remarried, and it wasn’t a look she ever wanted to see again. “I think I’d rather have a breath of fresh air, if you don’t mind. I would like to go for a walk.” She pulled her wool shawl from the peg by the door and looked to Mrs. Miller.

“Go on, child. You have much to think about.” Mrs. Miller pushed her immense body out of the chair and headed toward the kitchen. “Grace, come with me. You can peel potatoes for supper.”

Rebecca slipped out the door and gently closed it behind her. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Her thoughts twisted in her mind as worry and doubt left her feeling faint. She sank into the chair beside the door.

She lowered her head and hid her face in her hands. She and Jesse had been planning to buy a small farm, raise fruit trees and chickens once they were married. Rebecca sighed, but now Jesse was gone and thanks to her stepmother, she couldn’t go home.

Before her mother died, Rebecca’s life had been one of ease and love. Her father, a businessman, enjoyed the warmth of their home as much as she and her sister had, so it had been no surprise that he’d remarried shortly after her mother’s death.

After that day, life had changed for Rebecca. Her jealous stepmother had kept her busy and away from her only living parent. She’d made her feel uncomfortable in the only home she’d ever known. The woman had been sweet in the presence of her husband and vinegar in his absence.

By the time her stepmother had forced her to answer the mail-order-bride ad that Jesse had placed, she’d been ready to leave. She was ready to get away and start a family of her own.

Rebecca desired someone to love her, to make her feel safe and wanted again. She’d thought Jesse Cole was the answer to her prayers. He’d seemed to be stable and to know what he wanted out of life. His letters had promised security and love. Now she knew that wasn’t to be, at least not with Jesse.

She missed her father and longed to go home, if only he would stand up to her stepmother. Rebecca knew that would never happen. No, she had to figure out what to do, on her own and with no help from her father.

Lord, what am I going to do now? I don’t want to go home and I’m not sure how I will be able to stay here. Why did Jesse have to die?

* * *

Seth hated days like today. The shattered look in her eyes had revealed that Rebecca Ramsey felt as if all were lost. Why hadn’t Jesse just surrendered? He would have been in jail, but at least he would have been alive.

Jesse had begged Seth as he bled out from his gut wound, “Please watch for Rebecca Ramsey, Marshal. She was to be my bride.” Their last conversation continued to play in his mind. “She didn’t do anything to deserve this. I really wanted to start a fresh life with her. Please take care of her. Please!”

The easy gait of the horse allowed Seth to recall his answer. “I’ll see that she’s taken care of, Jesse.”

Jesse clutched his shirt and pulled him closer. “Don’t let Maxwell or any of the Evans gang near her. They’ll try to take her.”

Jesse’s fear for Rebecca was real and Seth found himself saying the words he knew the dying man wanted to hear. “I’ll protect her, Jesse. That’s a promise.”

With Seth’s words, peace entered the young man’s eyes and then Jesse Cole took his final breath. Twenty-two was too young to die. Jesse had only been three years younger than himself. Seth shook his head at the sadness of the past week.

Memories of Jesse flooded his mind. Jesse had arrived in Cottonwood Springs six years ago. Nobody knew anything about him, just that he worked hard at the livery where old man Rodgers had given him a job. Then he’d taken up with Maxwell Evans and his brother. For four years he’d run with Maxwell, his brother Clod and Horace Nance.

The four men made up the Evans gang. They had been more a nuisance than a real gang. They’d stolen small things and the men of Cottonwood Springs didn’t feel the need to press charges against them. Boys will be boys, as the old saying goes. Old man Rodgers died one night and Jesse moved in with Maxwell.

And then one night Jesse ran into Reverend James Griffin and found the Lord. Jesse turned his life around that night; he started working on the Vaughan farm just a couple of miles out of town. The other Evans gang members hadn’t been thrilled with the turnabout and they’d given the Vaughan family plenty of trouble.

Over the next two years the Evans gang had grown and become braver. Their crimes had developed into more serious transgressions. With each passing year, Maxwell had become more dangerous.

Seth hadn’t been surprised when they’d robbed the bank in Durango. What had surprised him was when the smoke cleared, Jesse had been the one left to die on the bank floor. He shook his head again. Jesse hadn’t even carried a gun. What had he been doing robbing a bank with no gun?

Guilt slammed into Seth’s gut. He’d shot down an unarmed man. Never had he felt the gravity of being a U.S. Marshal as strongly as he did now. The law was behind him, but he still felt as if a small part of his own soul had been ripped from his body the day Jesse Cole died. No matter how many times he played the events of that day in his mind, it came out the same. He’d killed an unarmed man, he’d killed Jesse Cole.

Thankfully the Vaughan orchard came into view. He shook his head and muttered, “I need to stop dwelling on it. Jesse is gone and there’s nothing I can do about it now.” Seth gave a little kick of his boots against the horse’s sides and sent it into a trot. It was time to go tell Mr. Vaughan that his hired hand wasn’t coming home.

He rode into the front yard. Two big hounds came to greet him with loud barks and yips. Mrs. Vaughan waved from the front porch and Mr. Vaughan walked out of the barn to meet him.

“Afternoon, Marshal. What brings you out this way?”

Seth slid from his mount. “Bad news, I’m afraid. Jesse Cole got himself shot up last week. Didn’t make it. He won’t be returning to work.”

Mr. Vaughan took his hat off and wiped at the sweat on his brow. “I’m sorry to hear that. He was a good man.”

“So it would seem,” Seth agreed.

“Mind telling me what happened?” The old man slapped the hat back on his gray head and indicated Seth should follow him to the bunkhouse.

Seth fell into step with him. “He was present during a bank robbery over in Durango last week. One of the Evans gang took a shot at me and things got out of hand. Jesse got caught in the cross fire.”

Mr. Vaughan pulled the door open and walked to one of three bunks in the one-room building. “I see.”

Seth pressed on, trying to explain away his own feelings of guilt for having shot Jesse. “I’m afraid he was running with the Evans boys again. They were the ones hightailing it out of Durango with a bag full of money.” He didn’t feel the need to tell Mr. Vaughan that Jesse hadn’t been carrying a gun when he was shot. That fact still bothered him. Instead Seth asked, “Did Jesse say where he was going when he left here?”

“No, just said he had some unfinished business and that he’d be back in a couple of days.” He pulled a suitcase out from under a bunk that Seth assumed was Jesse’s. “I thought he’d gone into town to see about buying the Porters’ place. Had no idea he was running with the Evanses again.” He grunted as he lifted the case for Seth to take. “These are his belongings. Feels like this thing is filled with rocks. He also has some clothes lying around here, too. Do you want those?”

Seth shook his head.

“Do you know if he has any family we can give this to?”

Seth took the heavy case and shook his head again. He frowned at the weight of the container. “I don’t think he does, but there is a young woman in town that might. I’ll ask her.”

Mr. Vaughan nodded and followed Seth from the bunkhouse. “It’s too bad.” He muttered more to himself than to Seth. “I really liked that boy. He was real excited when that gal answered his mail-order-bride ad, too.”

They walked back to where Seth’s horse waited. Seth set the suitcase onto the saddle and then swung up behind it. So Rebecca Ramsey was a mail-order bride. He’d heard of women answering those ads, just never figured he’d meet one way out here in the New Mexico Territory.

Seth arranged the case in front of him, before saying, “I’d like to keep this as private as we can. His mail-order bride arrived last week and, well, I’d just as soon she not be told what happened to him.” He paused and shook his head. “Honestly, I’m not sure I know what happened. I’d like to think Jesse was there against his will.”

Mr. Vaughan took his hat off and twisted the brim. “All I know, Marshal, is the poor boy seemed to have got caught in some cross fire and was shot in Durango.” He shook his head and looked at the ground. “Poor boy was at the wrong place, at the wrong time.” He looked back up.

Seth nodded. “Thanks.”

“Do you know if his lady will be staying in Cottonwood Springs or moving on?” He shielded his face from the sun as he looked up at Seth.

Seth had wondered the same thing. “Don’t know yet.” He waved and headed back to town. His thoughts turned to what Mr. Vaughan had said.

Had Jesse been heading to town to buy a place and get married? Or had he met up with the Evanses with the purpose of robbing the bank to secure a better future for his new bride? Seth could still see the fear and concern in Jesse’s face for Rebecca’s safety.

As the horse lumbered back to town, his thoughts turned to the pretty young woman who had come to town to marry Jesse. Her eyes had done something to his heart that only one other woman’s eyes had ever done.

Remember she was killed because of your job, Billings. How could he forget? He couldn’t. And because of Clare’s death, Seth vowed never to love another again. His job and her meekness had gotten her killed. Nope, he wasn’t going to fall in love again, at least not until he was done with marshaling. He doubted any woman would wait for him that long.

Rebecca Ramsey’s heart-shaped face filled his mind’s eye. No, Seth Billings had no intentions of hurting or being hurt by another woman because of his career. A career he felt sure God approved of. Lord, please help me to fulfill my last promise to Jesse and help me to overcome this pressing guilt of killing an unarmed man. And if it be Your will, keep Rebecca Ramsey far from me. I don’t want to see her hurt.

Chapter Two

Rebecca stepped into her favorite blue dress and buttoned up the front. She pulled on her shoes and hurried to get her hair fixed just right. Her fingers worked the hair into a French braid and she eased small strands forward to frame her face.

Today she would look for employment. The night before, she’d talked to the Millers and assured them she would pay for the days she’d stayed with them. They’d been kind and offered to let her stay as long as she needed. For this, Rebecca was thankful to the Lord.

She walked to the dining room and stopped just inside the doorway. The fragrance of eggs, bacon and hot biscuits greeted her. Rebecca ignored the sound of her stomach as she made her way into the room. Mrs. Miller and the marshal were seated at the table. He held a cup of fresh coffee in his hand. When Mrs. Miller saw her, she motioned for Rebecca to join them.

“Good morning, Rebecca. The marshal has come to see you.”

Rebecca acknowledged them with a nod of her head. “Good morning.”

Mrs. Miller indicated that Rebecca sit with a sweep of her hand. The heavyset woman braced her hands on the table to push back her chair and stand. “Would you like some coffee and eggs?”

Rebecca slipped into the wooden chair. “Just coffee this morning, thank you.” She had decided the night before not to eat any more than she had to until she could repay the Millers what she owed them.

“I’ll be right back. You two carry on with your business.” Mrs. Miller lumbered out of the room.

What business did the marshal have with her? Had she done something wrong? Rebecca shook the thought away. No. It couldn’t be that. Then what? Sensing his brown eyes upon her, she folded her shaking hands on the tabletop. “What did you want to see me about this morning, Marshal?”

He lowered his cup and took a deep breath. “Yesterday I went out to where Jesse had been living and let his boss know he wouldn’t be returning to work.” His gaze studied her face.

She still didn’t understand why he was there. “I see.” She met his look head-on. Marshal Seth Billings was a nice-looking man. His light brown hair curved above his collar, chocolate-colored eyes looked back at her and when he spoke, a dimple winked in his left cheek.

In a soft voice, he said, “I wasn’t finished.”

Mrs. Miller returned with Rebecca’s cup of coffee. “Here you go, dear. It’s hot.” She set the cup on the table in front of her along with a small sugar bowl.

“Thank you, Mrs. Miller.” Rebecca pulled both the coffee and sugar toward her. “Please go on, Marshal.” She scooped two teaspoons of sugar into her cup.

“If you two will excuse me, I’ve work to do in the kitchen.” Mrs. Miller left without waiting for their answers.

“As I was saying, while I was out there, Mr. Vaughan gave me some of Jesse’s personal belongings. The sheriff and I have gone through them and there are a couple of things we thought you might like to have, Miss Ramsey.” He picked up his coffee and took a sip.

The marshal continued to study her over the rim of the cup. His eyes bored into her as if searching for something. Rebecca ignored his look. She focused on her coffee instead as her mind raced.

What could he possess of Jesse’s that she might like to have? His letters from her? Maybe. A family Bible? But wouldn’t that go to his family? The Bible, not the letters, she mentally corrected herself.

When it became apparent he was waiting for a reaction from her, heat began to fill Rebecca’s face. She set her cup down and asked, “What sort of belongings?”

The marshal reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a small bundle of letters. When he handed them to her, Rebecca recognized her handwriting on the outside of the envelopes.

Had he read them? She searched his eyes for the answer. He held her gaze, but she couldn’t read their expression. Now her face felt on fire. She prayed he hadn’t read them. “Thank you.” She laid the bundle on the table and reached for her drink.

“There’s more.” The marshal reached into the other side of his jacket and pulled out another envelope. He handed it to her.

She didn’t recognize this one. Rebecca turned the plain white envelope over in her hands. “Are you sure? I didn’t send this one to him.”

The marshal raised his head and nodded. “Yes. I think you should have it.”

Rebecca ran her fingertips over the seal. “What about his family?”

“Jesse moved here six years ago. During that time he never mentioned family, so since you were to be his wife, the sheriff and I decided you should receive that, as well.” He nodded his head in the direction of her hands and grinned.

He’d discussed this with the local sheriff? “What’s in here?” Her hands trembled. Was she really ready to take whatever was inside the envelope? Was it a deed to the farm he had talked about in his last letter?

A warm chuckle brought her attention back to the marshal’s face. A woman could get used to the sound of his easy laugh and handsome features; she jerked her mind away from such foolish thoughts.

His eyes twinkled. “Why don’t you open it and find out?”

Rebecca’s mouth dried, she picked up her coffee and sipped the bitter sweetness, allowing it to wash over her tongue. Then she took a deep breath and slid her fingernail under the envelope flap.

Within the depths of the envelope lay a letter. She pulled it out and carefully unfolded what she saw to be a blank piece of paper. Hidden within the paper were money notes. She counted the money and realized there was enough there to pay the Millers for the time she’d spent with them and she’d have a little left over to stay for maybe a month longer. Rebecca silently thanked the Lord for meeting her needs.

“Are you sure it’s all right for me to keep this?” She searched his features once more. His eyes were serious; the chocolate color that had just twinkled with amusement now seemed almost to caramelize as he stared back at her.

He nodded and then finished his coffee. “That money was in his possessions. I’m sure he’d want you to have it. I’d say there is enough money there to take you home, Miss Ramsey.”

Rebecca shook her head. “No, it’s enough to pay the Millers what I owe them. And, I’ve already told you, I’m not going back.”

He stood. “So you are determined to stay here?”

How many ways did she have to say she was staying? She looked up from the money. Then she felt it. Something wasn’t quite right, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. Did the marshal suspect her of some wrongdoing? Or was this just his normal way of dealing with what he might consider a grieving fiancée?

Rebecca stared at the handsome man before her. His jawline tightened and his eyes narrowed. She raised her chin and returned his stare. “Yes, Marshal, I am. You needn’t worry about me. I am an upstanding citizen and, God willing, I will find a job today.”

* * *

Rebecca Ramsey hadn’t reacted the way he’d thought she would when she opened the envelope. Maybe she didn’t know about the rest of the money he’d found in that suitcase. And then again, maybe she did and was sticking around town to find it. What had Jesse been doing with so much money in money notes, diamonds and gold?

Was that the reason Jesse had begged him to keep watch over her? Did the Evans gang know about the stashed treasure in Jesse’s possession? Would they come after her, thinking she had it? The questions swirled through his mind like a Texas twister.

What if she really was just an innocent and had no clue Jesse had been an outlaw? Or that he was far richer than he’d let anyone know. Seth’s protective instincts surged through his stomach.

Seth admitted to himself that he found Jesse’s girl attractive. She seemed young and naive. What kind of woman ventured alone to answer a mail-order-bride ad that would take her to an isolated place like the New Mexico Territory?

He’d read her letters. They were simple letters telling Jesse her age, what she looked like and when she would arrive. She’d asked no questions of Jesse Cole. From what he’d read, it seemed as if Rebecca Ramsey had simply come with no knowledge of anything about her soon-to-be husband.

His first promise to Jesse echoed in Seth’s ears. I’ll take care of her. He tilted his head sideways and studied her. If she really was just a girl looking for work, he should help her. He’d promised, and Seth Billings never broke a promise. “What kind of work are you looking for?”

“I’m not picky, Marshal, and I’m a hard worker, so it really doesn’t matter.” She shrugged her shoulders, picked up her morning coffee and took another sip.

The blue in her dress brought out the blue shades within her eyes. Small ringlets of blond hair drifted about her face as she bent to the hot beverage. Miss Ramsey smiled as she savored the drink. Seth stared at her soft lips and then shook himself mentally. The young woman in front of him was quite attractive, but no lady liked to be stared at.

“Why? Do you know of a position?” Her question pulled him from his musings.

She gazed into his eyes as if she were looking into his soul. What did she see there? He didn’t want to know.

“I might. The sheriff and I were talking this morning and I’ve come to the conclusion that I need a house here in Cottonwood Springs.” Those cornflower eyes continued to study him. “If I find one, I’ll need someone to clean, do laundry and cook for me when I’m in town. Would you be interested in something like that?”

“When will you know if you are going to take up residence here?” Her gaze moved to his left hand.

The urge to tuck it into his pocket proved mighty powerful. He didn’t want her looking to him as a replacement for Jesse. “I’ll let you know by this afternoon. How does that sound?”

Her small smile turned into a big grin. “It sounds like something I wouldn’t mind doing.”

Seth nodded and then headed for the front door. He had a lot of work to do if he planned on having a home in Cottonwood Springs by this afternoon. The soft swish of her skirts informed him that she had followed him. “I’ll see you later,” he promised and then left.

He shook his head as he climbed into the saddle. Seth Billings, you are going to have to stop making promises.

Chapter Three

Rebecca pulled her wool shawl over her dress, picked up the money and then carried her coffee cup into the kitchen. “Mrs. Miller, I am leaving now to look for employment.” She placed the empty cup beside the older woman.

Mrs. Miller’s hands were up to her elbows in hot soapy water. A pile of dirty dishes was stacked to her left. “Your business with the marshal is finished?” She looked over at Rebecca. Mrs. Miller’s gaze moved to the envelopes in her hand.

Rebecca tucked the letters she’d sent to Jesse under her arm and then opened the packet that held the money. She turned her body so that Mrs. Miller couldn’t see the full contents of the envelope. “I’m not sure. He’s offered me a job.”

Mrs. Miller dried her wet hands on a dish towel and rested a hip against the counter. “Then why are you looking for another one?” Her brows arched as she watched Rebecca count out the money.

“Well, it’s not a for-sure job and I can’t continue living here if I can’t pay for my stay.” Rebecca knew Mrs. Miller wanted to ask her about the money. The older woman opened her mouth and then closed it again. Almost as if she realized it was none of her business.

Rebecca handed her what was owed. The other woman took the money and dropped it into her apron pocket.

“Will you be back in time for lunch?” Mrs. Miller returned to the dishpan full of dirty dishes.

Cottonwood Springs wasn’t that big of a town and Rebecca could return in plenty of time before lunch, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Mrs. Miller was nice enough, but Rebecca sensed the other woman would like to have some time to herself and, to be honest, Rebecca felt the same. “Probably not.”

“Have a good day, dear. I’ll see you at supper.” And just like that, Mrs. Miller dismissed her.

Rebecca walked to the front door, stood in the doorway and looked both ways down Main Street. The town’s dirt street and light breeze had sand drifting in the air. She focused her mind on the business in town and not the fact that she hated flying dirt.

Across the street from the Millers’ general store was the newspaper office; next to that stood Mrs. Kelly’s hat and dress shop. She studied the false fronts of both businesses. The newspaper office wouldn’t offer much employment, but maybe Mrs. Kelly could use another seamstress. She’d start with these two businesses and then make her way around town, should she not acquire employment at either establishment.

As she crossed the street, Rebecca lifted her skirts to keep them from getting dusty. A light breeze picked up from the direction of the river and she shivered. Early spring in New Mexico seemed to be rather cold. Truth be told, Rebecca preferred the heat of summer, at least she had in Maryland. Who knew what New Mexico summers would hold for her?

When she arrived at the door of Mrs. Kelly’s hat and dress shop, Rebecca hesitated. She took a deep breath, smoothed out her skirt and slowly exhaled before she entered. A little bell over the door announced her arrival.

A female voice called from the back, “I’ll be right with you. Feel free to browse around.”

Rebecca walked farther into the room. Sunlight shone through the big plate-glass window, creating a cheerful and warm environment. Colorful dresses, shawls, coats and hats took up most of the room. Toward the back, where the mysterious voice had come from, was a curtained-off doorway.

She noticed an area for sewing in the far corner. A long table and two sewing machines occupied the space. The two machines gave her hope that the other woman might need help.

A brown dress caught her eye. She walked over to it and touched the soft fabric. Its color reminded her of the marshal’s eyes. Rebecca admired the way the waist seemed to tuck inward. She took it off the hanger and held it up against her front.

“I like that dress, too, but brown doesn’t seem to be your color.”

Rebecca glanced up and found a woman who looked to be a little older than she, standing off to the side shifting though a rack of dresses. Soft brown hair peeked out from under a stylish green hat that matched the dress she wore. Straight strands of hair escaped the stylish hat and now rested on each side of her heart-shaped face. She stared at Rebecca with interest.

She pulled a light yellow dress off a hanger beside her. It looked to be the same style, just a different color and with a soft print of small blue flowers. “The flowers in this one will accent your eyes beautifully.” The woman held it out to Rebecca.

Rebecca handed the brown over and took the yellow. Again she held the soft fabric up to her front. It had been a long time since she had a new dress, and this one flowed about her ankles and looked as if it would cinch in her waist. What was she doing? She couldn’t afford a new dress. “Thank you, but I can’t buy a dress right now.”

The woman smiled at her. “That’s quite all right.” She took the dress back and hung it on its hanger. “So if you aren’t here to buy a dress, what can I help you with? A hat perhaps?”

Rebecca shook her head. “No, not today. My name is Rebecca Ramsey and I need to speak with the owner of this shop.” She thought that sounded like a good way to start business.

“It is nice to meet you, Miss Ramsey. I am Eliza Kelly and I am the owner.” She smiled broadly.

Rebecca hadn’t expected Mrs. Kelly to be so young. She’d pictured an elderly woman running the dress shop. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Kelly. I wondered if you had a position I might fill.”

Her eyes saddened. “I’m afraid not. This is a one-woman show for the time being.” She tugged at a strand of her hair.

“I see. Thank you, Mrs. Kelly.” Disappointment filled her voice and Rebecca wished she could take it back. She offered a smile to show she wasn’t upset and then turned to leave the shop.

The other woman followed her. “Aren’t you Jesse’s girl? I mean… I was just about to make a pot of tea. Would you be interested in having a cup with me?”

Rebecca started to refuse, and then saw Mrs. Kelly’s cheeks had turned pink and her eyes held warmth. She hadn’t meant her inquiry to sound as rude as it had. Did the whole town think of her as Jesse’s girl? Rebecca hoped not.

The thought of a nice cup of tea swayed her decision to stay. It had been weeks since she’d had a sip of her favorite beverage. “Yes, I am, or I was, Jesse’s girl, and I’d love a cup of tea, Mrs. Kelly.”

“Oh, thank you. I was so worried I’d overstepped my bounds. And you must call me Eliza.” She turned to walk into the sitting room. “I hope you can find employment, Rebecca, but I’m afraid if the other merchants are having as hard a time as I am they won’t be open to offering you a job. Have you tried the other shops?”

She followed Eliza into the sitting room, through the dining area and into the kitchen. “No, I came to you first.”

Eliza picked up the teapot and filled it with water. “That is so sweet. I really wish I could afford to hire you. It would be wonderful to have another lady to talk to during the day.”

The statement sounded odd to Rebecca. “Don’t you talk to women all day? I mean, this is a dress shop.”

“Well, yes, I guess I do, but not real talk. You know, my customers are here to talk about dresses and they share gossip, but I want something more, you know?”

Rebecca did understand. “I believe I do.”

Eliza smiled. “I just had a feeling you and I would understand each other. It’s strange how that works. Hannah is fun to talk to, but she only comes to visit once a week. You know Hannah, don’t you?”

At a shake of Rebecca’s head, Eliza pressed on as she made the tea. “Hannah Young. She’s the schoolteacher. She’s about our age and has no husband. But she is devoted to her work as a teacher and only allows herself to visit on Saturdays, and then of course Sunday is full of church.”

Rebecca remembered someone introducing the schoolteacher last Sunday. If memory served her right, Hannah Young was a small woman maybe four feet eleven with black hair and she walked with a slight limp. She’d also seemed very shy and hadn’t spoken much. A flash of humor tugged at the corners of Rebecca’s mouth. Eliza’s fast talking must be the reason Miss Young kept to herself.

The morning flew by as Rebecca enjoyed her visit with Eliza. It didn’t take long to learn that Eliza was lonely. She’d lost her husband two years ago; he’d died when they lived in Silverton, Colorado. According to Eliza, her Charley had been killed in an avalanche during one of the worst snowstorms she’d ever seen. Thankfully, they’d saved enough money for Eliza to get to Cottonwood Springs and purchase this house to start up her hat-and-dress business.

The sound of the bell ringing in the shop had Eliza up and hurrying to take care of her next customer. Rebecca knew it was time to go. She needed employment if she wanted to stay in Cottonwood Springs and get to know her new friend better.

Eliza came back into the room. “That was Mrs. Pierce. She picked up her dress and matching hat.”

Rebecca stood to leave. “I best be going, Eliza. It’s almost lunchtime and I haven’t inquired about employment anywhere but here.” She slipped her shawl over her shoulders and headed for the door.

“Oh, I wish you didn’t have to go.” Eliza followed her. “Do come back when you are done and let me know if you found a job.”

Rebecca smiled. “I will and thanks for the tea.”

Eliza had been right. An hour later, Rebecca walked out of the general store still jobless. Everyone wanted to give her employment, but none of them had the funds to do so—everyone, that was, except Mrs. Walker, the owner of the general store. Rebecca had the impression that Mrs. Walker had taken an instant disliking to her.

Her thoughts went to the marshal. Maybe he’d had better luck in finding a house to buy. She hoped so. If nothing else good came of the day, thanks to Eliza, Rebecca now felt she had a friend close to her age in Cottonwood Springs.

Rebecca’s gaze moved over the town. It was pleasant enough and sat back against a mountain. The mountain resembled a sand rock, but trees lined the river below and, because smaller streams ran across the back side of the town, cottonwood trees shaded the majority of the businesses and homes. A beautiful spot if ever she’d seen one.

The marshal’s voice pulled her from her musings. “Any luck finding work?”

Rebecca searched the shadows of the buildings to locate him. He stood propped against the blacksmith shop. His arms crossed and his eyes narrowed.

His tone indicated he wasn’t a happy man. So she answered in a short, crisp reply of, “No.”

“I thought we had an understanding.” He pushed away from the wall and walked over to her.

Rebecca didn’t like his tone and hardened her voice to match his. “What kind of understanding?”

He crossed his arms again, spread his legs and glared down at her. “That you now work for me.”

“But, that is only going to happen if you find a house. Did you buy a house, Marshal?” She crossed her arms to match his stance.

He relaxed and grinned. “As a matter of fact I did. And, I have already moved in.” The sudden pleasure in his voice surprised her.

Rebecca really hadn’t expected him to follow through with his offer of a job. Her spirits lifted, knowing she now held a position and would be able to stay in Cottonwood Springs. She silently thanked the Lord for yet another blessing and smiled. “That’s wonderful.”

The dimple in his cheek winked. “Would you like to see it?”

“I’d love to, Marshal, and while we walk you can tell me what this job entails.”

He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and began walking. Her heart did a little flutter as tingles climbed up her hand and into her hairline. Seth Billings made her feel alive.

With Jesse Cole dead, could this be the man God sent her to the New Mexico Territory for?

Chapter Four

Seth led Rebecca toward his new home. He hoped she liked it as much as he did. The front was white and had a small porch that led off the right-hand side. Two windows faced forward with dark brown shutters on each side. It was small but could be added on to, should he ever decide to marry and have a family.

He liked the fact that it was on a side street and that there weren’t many other houses close by. Cottonwood trees surrounded the house, giving it plenty of shade. He stopped in the yard and waited for her reaction.

Her eyes seemed to drink in the front of the little house. She sighed and pulled her shawl closer about her shoulders. “It’s wonderful, Marshal.” Rebecca turned to look up at him. She tilted her head sideways and smiled up into his face.

Seth felt as if he would drown in the blue pools of her eyes. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it. I’m thinking of adding a couple of rosebushes to the front, under the windows. What do you think of that?”

She stared at the windows as if she could picture the flowers already in full bloom. “They will look and smell wonderful. What color roses?”

He reached up and gently brushed aside a wayward curl from her cheek. Seth was surprised when she turned to face him. Her cheeks flushed a soft pink. “Pink, I think.”

Rebecca stepped away from him and nodded. “I’m sure they will be lovely.”

Seth realized he had embarrassed her with his actions, and moved forward to open the door. She followed him up the steps and waited. His boot heels clicked against the hardwood floor as he stepped inside the doorway and allowed her to pass.

His gaze swept the sitting room trying to visualize how the space must look to Rebecca. It was small with a couch and end table. A bookshelf rested against one wall, empty of books at the moment.

It felt empty, but Seth had been blessed that the Wilsons were willing to sell it at such a low price and were willing to leave some furniture behind. Granted, he had plenty of money sitting in the bank, but he had hoped not to have to touch the money until his days of marshaling were over.

“This is beautiful, Marshal. I love that the living area is open to the kitchen.” She spun around the room, touching the furniture. “It needs a thorough dusting and the floors require a good sweeping, but other than that it is great.”

He leaned against the door frame and watched as she flittered from room to room. It wasn’t a big house—two small bedrooms, a sitting room, kitchen with a dining area. Each room opened off of the sitting room. With her gasps and excited squeaks, you would think it was a mansion on a hill.

Seth couldn’t stop the smile that lifted the corners of his mouth. For some odd reason he felt pleasure at her excitement. “Thank you, Miss Ramsey.”

Her skirts swirled about her ankles as she hurried to the kitchen. “How did you get moved in so quickly?”

Seth pushed away from the frame work and followed her. “It came fully furnished and I don’t have that many clothes.”

Her gaze moved about the rooms. “That was very fortunate for you.”

He nodded. Her eyes sparkled as she ran her hands over the shelves and stove. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was envisioning the kitchen as her own. Maybe she was, it was easy to do.

Seth decided right then and there to continue taking his meals over at the diner. The last thing he needed was to have Rebecca Ramsey getting too comfortable in his kitchen. Women and marshaling didn’t mix. He couldn’t live through another woman’s death caused by his job.

Rebecca looked about the area and spread her hands. “You will need a few kitchen things.”

“Kitchen things?”

Rebecca grinned. “Yes, kitchen things.”

Seth crossed his arms. He’d just decided on eating over at the diner like normal. He didn’t need kitchen things. He set his jaw and started to tell her that he didn’t need another thing in the kitchen.

“Wouldn’t you like to have a fresh pot of coffee first thing in the morning?” she asked, once again mimicking his stance and arms.

How did she know what he’d been thinking? A fresh pot of coffee first thing in the morning did sound nice. He nodded and grunted his agreement. All right, he’d give in on the coffee, but other than that, Seth refused to give in any further.

And then she walked over to the stove. A wistful longing sound entered her voice. “I can cook some marvelous dinners at this stove. Just think, a hot meal at the end of the day.”

The last part seemed to be more a thought to herself than a statement for him. He stepped closer to her. The hopeful sound in her voice pulled at his heartstrings. “Sounds like you miss cooking.”

Rebecca tilted her head to the side and studied him. “I do. Cooking was one of the few things I enjoyed back home.”

The desire to make her feel at home, in his house, overwhelmed him. “It’s a good thing, then, that I said I’d need a cook, too.”

As if she’d forgotten, joy filled her face. “That’s right, you did.”

Seth crossed his arms to restrain himself from reaching out and hugging her. So much for taking his meals at the diner, his inner voice taunted. Rebecca was getting too close and he couldn’t afford to allow that to happen.

He took a step away from her. “I need to get back to work. You go and get the things needed for cooking and cleaning from the Millers’ store.” His boots pounded across the wood floors as he hurried to leave.

“Have Mrs. Miller charge whatever you feel is needed to my account.” Seth rushed out the door and across to his horse. He needed to put some space between himself and Miss Ramsey.

* * *

Rebecca wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and followed him out the door. She pulled the door shut behind her. What had happened? One moment he’d been smiling and seemed happy she’d taken an interest in his home and her new job, the next he’d exited the house like a cat that had been threatened with a bath. She shook her head. The marshal was turning out to be one complex man.

He mounted his horse and rode out of town. His wide shoulders swayed in the saddle. He was attractive, and for a few minutes earlier, she’d thought he might kiss her. His touch on her cheek had been warm. She shook her head. Get those thoughts out of your mind, Rebecca Ramsey, she reprimanded. Now that Jesse was gone, Rebecca knew she could only rely on herself. Her own father had deserted her. No man could be trusted not to cast her aside.

She focused instead on what having a job and money coming in would mean for her. If she saved enough, maybe the bank would allow her to buy a house. She’d need a down payment. Rebecca thought about writing to her father and asking for money, but just as quickly tossed the thought aside. No, it was time she depended on herself.

A few minutes later, she entered Eliza’s hat-and-dress shop. The bell announced her arrival. Within seconds Eliza arrived to greet her.

“Oh, Rebecca, you’re back!” She grabbed Rebecca’s hand and pulled her into the sitting room. “How did the job hunting go? Did anyone hire you? Did you try the druggist? What did he say?”

Rebecca laughed. “If you will stop asking so many questions, I’ll tell you.” She noticed that Hannah Young sat at the table sipping from a small china cup. “Hello.”

The schoolteacher answered in a very soft voice. “Hello.” Her blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Well, tell us,” Eliza demanded. “Rebecca has been looking for employment,” she informed Hannah, as if she’d not told her of Rebecca’s earlier visit, and then she filled another teacup.

Rebecca eased onto the soft cushion of the kitchen chair. “Thank you.” She took the tea that Eliza held out to her.

“Did you?”

“Did I what?” Rebecca teased, setting the cup down.

Exasperated, Eliza huffed, “Get a job?”

“I did.”

Eliza squealed and then demanded, “Really? Where?” She put the sugar bowl in front of Rebecca.

Hannah set her cup down and folded her hands in her lap. She didn’t say anything, but simply waited.

Rebecca spooned two teaspoons of sugar into her hot tea. She glanced at Hannah and they shared a grin. At a snail’s pace she stirred her tea.

Eliza burst. “Oh! Come on, tell us.”

At the same time, the little bell over the door jingled the arrival of a new customer.

Eliza groaned. She leaned forward on the table and whispered, “Don’t say a word until I get back.” Her brown eyes drilled into Rebecca. “Especially you.” She shook her finger in Rebecca’s direction.

“I promise, I won’t say a word about the job until you get back.” Rebecca took a sip of her tea.

Hannah stifled a giggle but not before Eliza pinned her with her brown gaze.

“I promise,” Hannah said, still grinning.

Satisfied they wouldn’t discuss Rebecca’s new job without her, Eliza left the room in a swirl of skirts. They heard her call out a greeting to the lady who’d entered.

Rebecca leaned toward Hannah and asked in a soft voice, “Is she always like that?”

Another giggle escaped Hannah before she answered, “Always.”

They sipped their tea in comfortable silence. Rebecca’s thoughts were on the trip she planned to make to the Millers’ store. She intended on stocking the marshal’s kitchen with a big coffeepot, lanterns, crockery, pots and pans, iron skillets, a Dutch oven, cooking utensils, knives and dishes. Then there were the food staples she’d need, like coffee beans, spices, baking powder, oatmeal, flour, sugar, eggs, milk, butter, fruit and vegetables, honey and molasses, crackers, cheese, syrup and dried beans. Her mind swirled with what she’d buy and cook in the cozy kitchen.

“She didn’t tell you, did she?” Eliza asked as she hurried back into the room.

At Hannah’s negative shake of the head, Eliza pressed on. “That was Mrs. McClain and Isabel. Her daughter is getting married in Aztec next week and we had to do a final fitting.” Eliza laughed. “I think that’s the fastest final fitting I’ve ever done.” She refilled her teacup. “Now, Rebecca, where will you be working?”

Rebecca could only imagine the look on Mrs. McClain’s face as Eliza rushed her daughter through the fitting. She set her cup down and answered, “I’ll be keeping house, cooking meals and doing the marshal’s laundry.”

Eliza’s jaw dropped. Her brown eyes resembled those of a hoot owl. When her friend had nothing to say, Rebecca looked to Hannah.

The schoolteacher’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright.

“What is wrong?” Rebecca asked, looking from one of them to the other.

Hannah recovered first. “Nothing is wrong, Rebecca. It’s just that we didn’t know the marshal had decided to stay here in Cottonwoods Springs.”

That seemed like a reasonable excuse for the women’s shocked reactions to her news, but Rebecca sensed there was more. “And?”

Rebecca waited. She expected that at any moment Eliza would find her tongue.

Eliza took a big gulp of tea. Hannah followed suit.

The hatmaker shook her head. “Oh, I dread to think what the older ladies will have to say about this. They will chop you up and have you for breakfast, Rebecca. You’re going to have to tell the marshal you can’t do it.”

Rebecca looked from one woman to the other. Hannah was nodding her agreement with Eliza. “No, I accepted the position and I don’t care what a bunch of old ladies have to say about it.”

“But Rebecca, I thought you were a Christian.” Hannah reached across to pat her hand.

Anger boiled to the surface. “I am a Christian, Hannah. But I don’t see what that has to do with this.”

Eliza jumped to her friend’s rescue. “You are a single woman, he’s a single man. It wouldn’t be decent.”

Rebecca sat back in her chair. “It’s not like that,” she said in a soft voice.

“We know that, but the tongues will begin wagging as soon as the gossips hear this.” She pressed on before Rebecca could react. “You haven’t been here long. This is a small town with very little for the local gossips to do.”

Rebecca took a deep breath and said a silent prayer. Had she made the right decision? Was this something God approved of? She searched her heart and had peace about the decision. The concerned look on both her new friends’ faces had Rebecca reasoning with them. “Eliza, did those same women speak out against you when you bought this house and changed it into a hat shop?”

“Well, yes, but that was different.”

Before she could add more, Rebecca jumped in with a question for Hannah. “Have they ever spread rumors or said mean things about you, Hannah?”

The young schoolteacher looked down at her hands and nodded. “Yes.”

Rebecca nodded. “So they are going to talk, no matter what I do. Right?”

Eliza answered. “Yes, but living with a man without marriage, that’s not right, Rebecca. Surely even you can see that.” Again she gulped her tea.

It was Rebecca’s turn to become speechless. Who said she would be living with the marshal? Her cheeks began to heat up as she realized what her new friends thought of her. She gritted her teeth and prayed for patience and wisdom before speaking.

“Please don’t be angry,” Eliza said. “We don’t want you to go against…”

Rebecca held up her hand to stop Eliza’s tirade of words that was sure to follow. “First off, I’m not moving in with the marshal. I will be going to work and returning to the Millers’ place each evening, at least until I can afford my own place.”

Eliza opened her mouth to interrupt. But this time Hannah stopped her. “Wait, Eliza. Let her speak.”

Rebecca nodded to thank Hannah and then continued, “Second, I’m willing to forgive you both since you really don’t know me, and third, I need to go, I have shopping to do.” She stood to leave.

Hannah’s firm voice stopped her. “Please sit back down, Rebecca.”

So that was the way to handle students—firm voice and constant eye contact. Rebecca eased back onto her seat.

“Thank you. Eliza and I didn’t mean to upset you or hurt your feelings. You’re right, we don’t know you very well, but I know we both want to know and help you. Please forgive us for jumping to the wrong conclusion.”

It was the most words she’d ever heard Hannah speak. Were these ladies to become lifelong friends who would love her no matter what? Rebecca feared to believe it, and yet, deep down prayed it would be so.

“Yes, please forgive us. I’m not sure why we jumped to the wrong conclusion.” Eliza’s cheeks held pink coloring and her neck had turned red.

Humbled by their sincerity, Rebecca blushed. “Thank you both. Maybe I should have told you I will be going to his house in the mornings, fixing his breakfast, and while he is away during the day, I will be cleaning his house, doing his laundry and then cooking his dinner. Once he arrives back home in the evening, I will be returning to the Millers’. Yes, that’s how I should have told you.”

Silence filled the room.

Then Eliza came alive again. “Do you have to stay at the Millers’? Or can you live wherever you want? Because, I’d love it if you would move in with me. Where is his house? Is it close to here?”

Hannah shook her head and then picked up her tea. Did Hannah wonder how Eliza could rush from one thought to the next, like she did?

“Well?”

Rebecca laughed. “No, I don’t have to live with the Millers. Yes, I can live wherever I desire. And, yes, the marshal’s house is one street over and back from here.”

“Then you can live here with me! I have two bedrooms. Yours would be small, but you would have your own space. Come on, I’ll show you.” Eliza was out of her chair and through the door before either Rebecca or Hannah realized that she planned on leaving.

Hannah stood first. “You might as well humor her.” She followed Eliza from the room.

Rebecca took a deep breath before standing. Lord, will everyone judge my decision to work with the marshal like Hannah and Eliza just did? And, Lord, You better step in quick if I’m not meant to move in here with Eliza.

Chapter Five

Seth strolled out of the Millers’ store with a frown on his face. Mrs. Miller had been happy to inform him that Rebecca had moved from their residence and into Mrs. Kelly’s. She’d also given him the bill for the supplies Rebecca had had delivered to his house two hours earlier. He shook his head. Miss Ramsey had been busy, but what had he expected?

His boots kicked up dust as he walked toward his new home. That she’d be looking for the remainder of the stolen money and diamonds? He pushed the thought of stolen money and diamonds from his mind.

Would she be waiting for him when he got there? Seth’s emotions warred with his reasoning. He wanted her to be there waiting with a hot meal, and then again he didn’t want her to be there. The thought of her cooking at his stove, setting his table and smiling across it at him tugged at his heart. He reminded himself that he couldn’t get romantically involved with her. Besides, he’d killed Jesse and when she learned that she’d never forgive him.

In a quiet, firm voice, Seth spoke to himself. “I am a U.S. Marshal. I have no business thinking about her that way.” Maybe speaking the words out loud would convince his heart it was true.

He slowly climbed the steps to his house. Seth took a deep breath and opened the door. The smell of green chili stew filled his nostrils and his stomach growled its appreciation of the welcoming aroma. Expecting to find Rebecca at the stove, he squared his shoulders and entered the kitchen. Only, she wasn’t there.

Disappointment and relief washed through him. He released the air in his lungs and turned to look in the bedrooms for her. After a quick inspection, Seth realized he was alone in the small house. He followed his nose back to the kitchen.

His gaze moved around the room. She’d moved things around. A white cabinet with two drawers now sat beside the stove. A washtub sat on top of it. She’d hung a small shelf above the cabinet and several bottles containing spices set on top of that. The large cupboard now stood against the wall and held all his new dishes. The kitchen table and four chairs sat in the center of the room and in front of the cupboard. The potato bin stood beside the window on the other side of the room. Sheer curtains covered the window and the table had a crisp, clean cloth draped over the dark wood that matched the curtains. How had she done it? In just a few short hours she’d turned his kitchen into a cozy place to eat.

He picked up a bowl and walked to the stove, where a pot of stew, a skillet with a stack of homemade tortillas and a coffeepot were warming. Instinctively Seth reached to the closest drawer in the white cabinet and pulled it open. His gaze landed on a large ladle. He grabbed its handle and dipped the cupped end into the stew. The aroma of meat and green chili teased his nose.

Seth located more utensils in the cabinet and then carried his meal back to the table. He pulled out a chair and was almost seated when a knock sounded on the front door. His gaze went to the door and then back to his bowl. The desire to ignore the summons tugged at him. The knock came again. He sighed and walked to the door.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Seth, but I was wondering if I might have a few minutes of your time.”

He pulled the door open wider. “Well, sure, Reverend Griffin. Please do come in.” Seth stepped farther back into the room. It was amazing how fast the reverend had located him. “I didn’t realize you were in town.”

“Only been here a few hours.” The reverend smoothed his mustache over his top lip.

“Would you like some supper?” Seth asked, leading the way to the kitchen.

“No, thank you. I just ate over at the diner.”

Seth stopped and turned to face him. “Oh, would you rather sit in the sitting room to talk?”

“No, I don’t want to keep you from your supper. We can chat at the table.”

Seth nodded and continued on to the kitchen. He poured each of them a cup of coffee and then sat. “What brings you here?”

Reverend Griffin pulled out a chair across from him. He cleared his throat. “Why don’t you tell me about you and Miss Ramsey?” He picked up his cup and held it his hands.

“There’s nothing to tell. She needed a job and I gave her one.”

The reverend looked him straight in the eyes and demanded, “Doing what?”

He took a deep breath and folded a tortilla in half. If it were any other man, he’d tell him it was none of his business, but since James Griffin was a man of God, Seth decided it would be best just to answer. “She cooks and cleans for me.”

“That’s all?” He arched an eyebrow and studied Seth over the rim of his cup.

Savory stew and spicy flavors coated Seth’s tongue. He had to swallow before answering the minister. “No, she also agreed to do my laundry once a week. Why all the questions, Reverend?”

James set his cup down. “It’s like this, son. The ladies think it isn’t decent for a young woman to be here with you alone.”

Seth sighed. “Reverend, Miss Ramsey isn’t living here with me. She’s coming in every morning, while I’m working, to cook and clean. She wasn’t here this evening when I came home. So I don’t see what they are upset about. And, if it bothers them so much, why didn’t one of them offer to be her chaperone?”

James laughed. “You better be careful what you ask for, Marshal. I can just see Mrs. Walker and her group of friends doing just that. Now, let me get this straight. You won’t be home when she’s here?”

Seth pushed his bowl back. All his interest in food was gone. “I can’t guarantee that, Reverend. There may be times we are both here.”

James frowned. “I see.”

“But I give you my word, on those occasions Miss Ramsey will be safe with me.”

The two men studied each other. Finally the minister smiled and pushed back his chair. “Then that’s good enough for me.” He walked to the door and Seth followed.

“I’ll see you on Sunday, Reverend.” Seth stopped in the doorway.

They shook hands and then the minister left.

Seth closed the door and looked about. The sitting room had been dusted and swept. Thanks to his promises, Rebecca now worked for him and the town gossips had started to spread their poison.

* * *

Rebecca gathered her basket of applesauce-oatmeal muffins and headed out the door. She stopped on the sidewalk and enjoyed the crisp morning breeze. Mr. Watson entered the newspaper office. He waved at her before shutting the door.

The sound of skipping feet caught her attention and she turned to see Grace Miller skipping toward her. “Hi, Miss Rebecca.”

“Well, good morning, Grace. Off to school this morning?” she asked.

Grace held a lunch pail in one hand and a book in another. “Yeah, Ma makes me leave early every morning. I end up there way before the other kids. Where are you going?” She tugged at the long brown braid that had landed on her shoulder when she’d stopped skipping.

Rebecca tried to remember if Grace had left early the mornings she’d been staying at the Millers’ house. After a few moments, she gave up. “I am headed to work.” Rebecca started to walk down the sidewalk. She liked the idea that she had a job now and didn’t have to rely on someone else to take care of her.

“At the marshal’s house?”

“Yes, at the marshal’s house.”

Grace walked along beside her. “Mama says you are lucky he needed someone ’cause there isn’t no work here.”

“Because there isn’t any work here,” she automatically corrected.

Grace frowned up at her. “That is what I said.”

Rebecca laughed and continued walking. She was in too good a mood to press the matter further. Grace skipped along beside her.

“Your mother is right. I feel very blessed.” Rebecca tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. If it hadn’t been for the marshal, she’d have had to go home. The last place she wanted to go.

“Can I go with you to the marshal’s house? I don’t want to go to school yet.” Grace stopped in front of the diner and looked up the hill at the school.

The smell of bacon and eggs drifted to them as the town banker opened the diner door and walked out. “Excuse me, ladies.” He tipped his hat at them and then continued on down the sidewalk.

“Yes, as long as you’re sure your mother doesn’t mind.”

Grace smiled. “She said she doesn’t mind as long as I get to school on time.”

Rebecca frowned. Had Mrs. Miller planned on Grace going with her to Seth’s house? That’s the way it sounded, but then again, children often maneuvered things around to fit what they wanted to do. Besides, what difference would it make as long as Grace got to school on time? “Well, then, let’s go.”

They arrived and Rebecca knocked on the door. Grace shifted from foot to foot as they waited. Seth opened the door. He stood before them with wet hair and stocking feet. The brown curls coiled about his white collar and Rebecca itched to reach out and touch the damp strands.

“Good morning,” she said in a soft voice.

Grace looked up at her. The young girl tilted her head as if to study Rebecca’s face further. The expression in her eyes said she knew something was wrong but wasn’t sure what.

Rebecca cleared her throat and said a little more forcefully, “Good morning, Marshal.”

He smiled at Grace. “I see you brought a chaperone this morning.”

“I’m not a chaperone. I’m Grace Miller.” The nine-year-old stood up taller as if to remind him of who she was.

“So you are.” He tugged her braid.

Rebecca pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders. “May we come in?”

Seth opened the door farther and Grace slid around him. He looked into Rebecca’s eyes and smiled. The dimple in his left cheek winked. “Sure, come on in.”

He inhaled as she walked past. “What’s in the basket?”

“Applesauce-oatmeal muffins. My mother’s recipe.” Rebecca walked past him and headed for the kitchen. “I thought you might like them with a hot cup of coffee for breakfast.”

“Sounds wonderful,” he answered, following close behind.

Her mother used to say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Rebecca hadn’t thought of that in a long time. She made the coffee and listened to Grace and Seth talk about school and the spelling test that Grace was dreading.

She put the muffins on the table and got down three small plates. Next, she poured herself and Seth coffee. “Would you like a glass of milk, Grace?”

“If you have it,” the little girl answered politely.

“I do. I’ll be right back.” Rebecca went out to the well and pulled on a long rope. The evening before, she’d tied a mason jar filled with milk to one end of the rope and lowered it into the cold water below.

She returned a few minutes later to find both Grace and Seth munching on the muffins.

“These are very good.” Seth indicated the muffin in his hand and then sipped his coffee.

Rebecca smiled. “Thank you. I never think they taste as good as when Mother made them.” She poured the milk for Grace and set the glass down beside her.

“Thanks, Miss Rebecca.” She picked it up and gulped it down. “Oh, it’s so cold!”

“That’s because it just came out of the well.” Rebecca sat down and picked up one of the muffins. She bit into the sweetness and sighed. They were good, but like she’d said earlier, not as good as her mother’s. The brown sugar and oatmeal topping didn’t taste as sweet.

“May I have another one, Miss Rebecca?” Grace was already reaching toward the bowl.

“Of course you can.” Rebecca licked the sugary sweetness from her lips. She looked up to see Seth watching her. Tingling heat filled her face.

He pushed his chair back. “If you ladies will excuse me, I need to get to work.”

Rebecca followed him to the door. “Is there anything special you want me to do today?” she asked as he stepped out onto the porch.

“Just do what I’m paying you to do, and don’t expect anything more from me.” He stomped off around the house. Rebecca knew the barn was behind the house and figured he was going after his horse.

Grace came to stand beside her. “What did he mean by that?”

Rebecca shook her head. “I have no idea.” The man seemed as skittish as a mother deer with a new fawn, another good reason to stay away from him. She knew opening her heart to a man like him would only lead to heartbreak.

Chapter Six

The sound of the school bell had both Rebecca and Grace hurrying back inside. Grace to get her book and lunch pail, Rebecca to get the breakfast and the previous night’s dinner dishes washed. She’d noticed earlier that Seth had piled his dinner dishes into the new dishpan.

“See you after school, Miss Rebecca!” Grace yelled as she raced back out the front door, the sound of the slamming door a sure sign of her departure.

Rebecca grabbed the water bucket and walked out the kitchen door to the well. What had Seth meant by “don’t expect any more from me”? Did he think she’d expected him to give her this job? Surely not. He’d been the one to suggest it and had even seemed angry when he’d realized she’d been out seeking employment elsewhere. She carried the water to the stove to heat.

Then she made her way to the bedrooms. The guest room looked the same as when she’d left it the day before. Seth’s bed looked as if he’d wrestled a bear during the night. Rebecca stripped the sheets and quilts off it and then remade the bed.

Next she returned to the kitchen and poured the hot water into the dishpan. After the dishes were washed, Rebecca swept and mopped the kitchen floor. While it dried, she stepped outside and looked at the backyard. To the left someone had hung a clothesline between two boards and to the right an overgrown garden spot had been fenced off. At the back of the lot stood a big red barn.

“Lovely day, isn’t it?”

Rebecca turned toward the sound of the male voice. The speaker stood beside the corner of the house, under a large Cottonwood tree. He looked to be about her age. A hat covered his dark hair and hid his eyes. “Yes, it is.”

He pressed away from the tree and moved closer to her. “I haven’t seen you around here before.” His voice dripped of sweetness.

Unease warned her not to allow him to get too close. She took a step back.

The stranger bent down and plucked a piece of grass, he chewed the end of it. His gaze never left her.

“I’m new to Cottonwood Springs.” She walked backward toward the door. “If you will excuse me, I have work to do.”

He stood and started toward her again. “Aw, why don’t you stay outside for a bit? We could get to know each other.” A crooked-toothed grin inched across his face.

The hair on the back of Rebecca’s neck prickled. She continued walking backward. “I don’t even know your name, sir. Now if you will excuse me.” Rebecca turned and opened the door.

“Hello! Is anyone home?” The voice came from the other side of the house.

Rebecca looked to find a short man with a mustache and thinning light brown hair walking around the corner of the house. Where were these men coming from? Were they together? Panic crept up her spine. Rebecca’s head spun back to where the other stranger had been, but he was gone. Where had he gone?

She jerked her head back in the direction of the shorter man. He’d come a short distance in a fairly fast time. He extended his hand out as he walked toward her. “Miss Ramsey? I’m Reverend Griffin, the circuit-riding preacher for this area. I don’t believe we’ve met. I hope you don’t mind my stopping by this morning.”

She grabbed his hand within hers and pulled him inside. “I am so glad to see you. There was a man here. He frightened me,” Rebecca explained once they were both within the kitchen.

“What man?” Reverend Griffin looked back out the door.

“I don’t know who he was. He didn’t give me his name, but everything about him made me nervous.” Rebecca placed her hand over her pounding heart.

“I’ll go see if he’s still hanging around.” Reverend Griffin barged out the door like a mama bear after her wayward cub. The look in his eye said he was in a no-nonsense sort of mood.

Rebecca stood up and poured herself and the reverend cups of coffee. She waited at the table for him to return. Sipping the rich beverage, Rebecca allowed her mind to go over the events of the past few minutes. Maybe she had overreacted. By the time the preacher returned, her heart rate had slowed its terrified rhythm and her hands had ceased shaking.

The reverend stopped in the open doorway. “I’m sorry, Miss Ramsey. He’s gone.”

“Please come in and sit down, Reverend. I’m glad he’s gone.” She took a drink of her coffee and then continued, “I might have been a bit excessive in my reaction to him.”

He entered the kitchen, shutting the door behind him. “Never underestimate your first gut reaction to a person, Miss Ramsey. It’s better to be cautious than to be sorry.” He picked up the coffee cup and took a sip. “You make very good coffee, young lady.”

“Thank you. Would you like a muffin?” She took the cloth off the basket of muffins she’d made that morning.

He waved a hand. “No, thank you. I appreciate the coffee but I need to be on my way. I only stopped by to introduce myself and invite you to church on Sunday.” Gulping the last of his drink, he stood.

Rebecca stood, also. “Thank you for stopping by. I’ll be sure to attend Sunday morning.”

“Very good. Services start at ten.” He opened the kitchen door and left the way he’d entered.

She gathered their cups and took them to the full dish basin. Had the strange man been innocent of wrongdoing? Had she overreacted like she’d told the traveling preacher she might have? The hair rose on Rebecca’s arms. No, she’d been right in staying away from him.

Rebecca washed and rinsed the dishes. She pushed thoughts of the stranger away and focused them on Seth and his parting words. She didn’t know why he’d snarled at her, but she was determined not to give him a reason to fire her. The rest of the day was spent scrubbing his house and cooking dinner.

Grace arrived shortly after school let out. “Hi, Rebecca!” she called as she came through the front door. “Oh, something smells delicious.”

“I’m in the kitchen,” Rebecca called back to her. “I baked chocolate-chip cookies.”

The nine-year-old tossed her lunch pail on the table. “May I have one?”

Rebecca smiled. “Yes, you can tell me if they are any good.”

Grace grabbed a warm cookie from the plate on the cupboard and took a big bite. “Mmm, these are great,” she mumbled around a mouthful of cookie.

“I’m glad.” Rebecca finished wiping off the table. Grace reminded Rebecca of her sister back home. Joy would be ten in a few months. Joy loved her sweets, and her little round body was proof that their mother had been the best baker in all of Maryland. Tears filled her eyes as she thought about Joy and their mother. She blinked hard and reached for the pan of dishwater. Thankfully their stepmother had taken a liking to Joy. Probably because Joy looked so much like her father. Rebecca, on the other hand, looked like Mother, which didn’t sit well with her stepmother at all.

“Do you want to walk home with me today, Miss Rebecca?” Grace asked as Rebecca tossed the dishwater out the kitchen door.

Rebecca looked to the roast and potatoes she’d cooked for Seth’s dinner. They were finished and would stay warm until he came home. She looked about the house. There really was no reason for her to stay longer today. “I would like that, Grace. Thank you.”

The little girl smiled her pleasure. “I can’t wait to tell Ma how well I did on the spelling bee.” She picked up her lunch pail. “May I have another cookie?”

Rebecca handed her two and then covered the dish with a clean cloth. She placed it in the center of the table for Seth to find when he got home.

“Thanks!” Grace skipped to the front door.

She followed and pulled her shawl from a row of nails she’d hung earlier in the day. As she put it on, Rebecca looked about the house once more. The smell of fresh baked cookies was inviting, the house was clean and dinner was on the stove.

Thanks to her hard work, Seth Billings would have no reason to fire her. She pulled the door closed behind them and followed a skipping Grace home.

The hair prickled on Rebecca’s neck. She looked about nervously. Was it her imagination? Or was someone watching them? Seeing no one, Rebecca hurried after Grace. She prayed the stranger from earlier in the day wasn’t around.

* * *

Seth glanced over his shoulder at the man tied to the horse behind him. He stifled the yawn that threatened to reveal just how tired he truly felt. It had taken all night to track the man, but he’d done it. Thanks to the reverend’s quick thinking, Seth had been on his trail fairly fast.

Thankfully the reverend had seen the stranger running from his house. He’d watched to see which direction he’d been going before returning to Rebecca. It hadn’t taken the preacher long to find Seth at the jail and give him the man’s description and details he needed to track the villain.

A yawn over took him and he winced as the cut on his lip stretched with the motion. The prisoner had put up quite a fight and had gotten several good hits in before Seth had knocked him out. Once subdued, Seth had learned the man’s name was Jacob O’Malley and that he was the newest member of the Evans gang.

Seth frowned; he hadn’t gotten much out of the prisoner. Jacob was willing to admit that the Evans gang had grown in the past few months. He’d even confessed he was supposed to be watching Jesse’s girl, but other than that his lips were sealed. Seth didn’t like it; he didn’t like it at all. Rebecca Ramsey was in danger. He’d put her there. Guilt over Jesse’s death and his failure to keep her safe ate at him.

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?”

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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