“For one, I’m not a pretty little thing,” she said quietly.
He grinned. “I beg to differ.”
She tried to ignore his words. “I don’t need your tips. I have a paying job.” She waved her hands about, indicating the store.
“Fine,” he said. “No more tips – noted.”
“Last but certainly not least,” she said with emphasis, “I am not weak. I can easily carry that meal tray when it is full.”
He pushed back his hat and stared at her. “On that point, I do object. Women are not strong enough to carry heavy items.”
Bethany felt her temper rising. “Is that so?”
“I stand by my words. Oscar,” he called, looking for back up. When the other man appeared he made the same statement.
“Follow me,” Bethany said out of desperation, and scurried into the storeroom with the two men following.
“You’re out of your depth here,” Oscar whispered loudly to the marshal, and Bethany couldn’t help but chuckle despite her annoyance.
She walked toward the pile of flour. “See this,” she said pointing at the bags. “Each of these are twenty pounds.”
He stared at her. When she leaned over to pick one up, he leapt forward to help her. Then he stopped dead in his tracks. Bethany threw one of the bags over her shoulder. It was lightweight to her, she’d done it for so long.
He scowled, then suddenly grinned. “I guess you’re not just a pretty little thing after all,” he said.
Bethany put the bag back where it belonged, then shoved past him and back to the store.
She heard the two men joking on her behalf, and felt her temper rising. She thought she would make things better, but she’d only made them worse.
“I’m going for a walk,” she told Oscar when the men stepped back into the bakery. She glared at Hunter and pulled off her apron.
There was far more to Bethany Lancaster than he’d first imagined. She had a lot of spunk, a smart mouth, and she sure had a temper. The man who got to tame that little filly had his work cut out for him.
The thought made him chuckle.
“What’s so funny,” Oscar asked.
“Miss Lancaster. Pity the man who has to tame her.”
Oscar stared up at him. “I thought you were sweet on her? Have you changed your mind?” He pushed his spectacles up his face.
“I thought I was, but I’m not sure I want to deal with that temper of hers. I’m willing to bet she’s accustomed to throwing things.” He scratched the back of his neck.
“Not that I’ve seen. Not so far at least, but you push her to the limit.” Hunter glanced across at him momentarily. He still had his eyes on the firecracker who had stormed out of the bakery.
“Makes me think you do like her,” the other man said, a grin on his face.
He shook his head. “Not likely. Besides, having a wife is not a good move for a lawman. Far too much worry for the women folk. You know that.”
He stared down at Oscar who was a full five inches shorter than Hunter. “Maybe she’d be a good wife for a baker,” Oscar said, and that got Hunter’s hackles up.
Scowling, he turned to the baker and Oscar backed off. “I was only joking,” he said, hands in front of him.
“No you weren’t.” Hunter opened the door and headed toward a group of teenage boys who had congregated further up the main street. They seemed to be up to something, but he wasn’t sure what. About ten of them stood in a group, pushing at something. It could only mean trouble of some sort.
If there was one thing Hunter didn’t stand for, that was trouble.
“Right you lot, what are you up to?” They began to separate as he approached. Bethany stood there, an annoyed look on her face. Otis Jackson, the town drunk was holding her around the waist.
“We tried to stop him, Marshal,” one of the boys said. “But he wouldn’t let the lady go.”
Hunter approached the man. He was usually a pushover. “You’ve had your fun, now let her go.” His hand hovered over his gun, but Hunter hoped he didn’t need to use it.
Bethany said something to her attacker but he couldn’t hear what. Suddenly she stomped her heel on his foot and the man screamed. “Why you…” He jumped about, trying to hold his injured foot.
Hunter sprung forward and grabbed his arm, then began to drag him toward the jail.
“Are you alright,” he called back over his shoulder.
“Of course, no thanks to you.”
He gave her a small nod and forced himself not to smile. “Make that two for supper tonight,” he said, and dragged the man away.
Bethany brushed herself off and returned to the bakery. Oscar rushed toward the door. “Are you alright? Come and sit down,” he said, guiding her toward a chair.
“I’m perfectly fine. Stop fussing,” she said firmly. “I need to dust myself down is all.”
He threw her a tentative smile. “I see the marshal sorted Otis out.”
“I sorted Otis out. The marshal did nothing to help. These ridiculous heels I am forced to wear do come in handy sometimes.” She glared at him.
“I don’t know about you, but I need a strong coffee. Can I get you one?”
Bethany considered him for a moment. He was only trying to help and she was not acting at all grateful. “Tea would be nice, thank you,” she said. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was rather shaken. If the teenagers hadn’t surrounded Otis, it could have been far worse. If the marshal hadn’t come along when he did, it could have been worse still. But she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of telling him that.
“You stay here,” he said as she began to rise. “You’ve had a scare. Stay here and calm down.”
She did as she was told. He was her boss after all, and he was paying her to follow orders. At no point would she admit she was rattled.
No sooner than Oscar returned with their refreshments and the bell over the door tinkled. She knew before she saw him it was the marshal. She’d know that scent anywhere. He made it a point to get as close to her as he could, and the fragrance was growing on her. The man wasn’t necessarily though.
“Hunter. Let me get you a coffee.” Oscar jumped up and soon returned with a mug of coffee for him.
“I’m fine,” she said before he’d even sat down on the chair he’d pulled out from the table.
“You don’t look fine.” He reached for the mug Oscar placed in front of him. “You’re deathly white.”
“He’s just the town drunk. He’s not dangerous.” She was determined to not let the situation get on top of her. So why was she trembling?
Hunter reached out and covered her hand with his. He didn’t say a word, just stared into her face. It was as though he’d read her mind. “Fine, huh? Then why are you shaking like an earthquake is rolling through the main street?”
“I’ve got stuff to do,” Oscar said, suddenly pushing the chair back. Perhaps he thought he was intruding, but he wasn’t.
Hunter totally disregarded him. “No, he’s not usually dangerous, but he gets out of hand sometimes. He’s never snatched a pretty lady before though.”
She began laughing. “Has he snatched an ugly lady?” She couldn’t stop herself from laughing, and eventually tears began to roll down her cheeks. He reached over and wiped them away with the back of his hands, then handed her the mug of tea.
She took a sip. Despite that, the tears continue to fall. She must look a mess. Not only was she dusty and disheveled, but now her eyes would be red and puffy. She stared at Hunter, and he stared at her.
“Let me take you home,” he said gently. “You’ve endured so much lately.”
She brushed at her cheeks and stood. “I’m not going anywhere. I have work to do.” With that, she stood, gathered up the empty mugs and headed to the kitchen leaving Marshal Hunter Bancroft to stare after her.
Several hours later, Bethany was ready to leave. Her experience of earlier had finally hit her and she felt flat. But she couldn’t lea
ve yet.
No, that wasn’t quite true. Her boss had tried relentlessly to get her to go home.
Hunter Bancroft had called in several times trying to convince her as well. He even wanted to accompany her home. But she would have none of it. She wasn’t some weak wallflower who needed a man to make sure she was safe. She thought they’d both understand that by now, especially the marshal. Apparently not.
She prepared the tray for the evening meals. Three meals tonight. Not that Otis Jackson deserved to be fed, the rat. Despite that, she prepared three meals.
There was no leftover apple pie today, but she’d made peach cobbler earlier today for customer meals, and still had a large slice left. She dished it out for the marshal. Not that he deserved it. He had a smart mouth when it came to her, and Bethany was getting rather sick of it.
She conceded that wasn’t really true. Whenever she’d needed him, Hunter had been there. He was a different person when he was in marshal mode. It was when he got personal – specifically with her - she had a problem with him.
Lastly she dished out the hot beef stew and dumplings with mashed potatoes and peas for three. She added three buttered bread rolls, and some cutlery. She covered the tray with a large kitchen cloth.
“I’ll get the door,” Oscar called as she headed out.
She glanced about before leaving. She shouldn’t be worried, the man was locked up. As she approached the jailhouse, the door opened. Hunter held the door open and waited for her. He seemed please to see her.
“I wasn’t sure if you would come,” he said quietly. “I do look forward to your visits each night.”
Visits? She was working, delivering meals. “Of course I came,” she said, leaving the tray on the table where she left it every night. She removed the kitchen cloth and he leaned in.
“Smells delicious. Did you make it?”
“You think Oscar can cook this good?” She smiled, although she didn’t feel particularly happy. She was still shaking from her earlier encounter.
Then she spotted him. The drunk was sitting on the bed, staring into space. “You! You lousy no good…” She lurched forward. How she thought she would reach him through the bars, she wasn’t sure.
Hunter pulled her back. His touch sent shivers down her spine.
“Sorry Missus,” Otis said. “When I’m drunk, I dunno what I’m doin’.”
“Then don’t get drunk.” She shivered, and felt the tears bubbling up again. Hunter tightened his grip on her. “It’s alright,” he whispered gently, trying to calm her down. “Darn it, Oscar should have brought the meals over here tonight.”
He led her to his desk and sat her down. “Let me sort these meals out, and I’ll be back,” he said pulling the cell keys out of the desk drawer. “You alright?”
She nodded, but he didn’t look convinced.
He returned a short time later, and sat opposite her. “Eat your food,” she said. “Before it gets cold. I have to get back anyway.” She stood to leave. “I’m alright, I promise,” she said and headed for the door.
“If you’re sure. I’ll be over to walk you home before you close up.” She nodded and left without another word.
Chapter Six
As promised, Hunter arrived at the bakery a few minutes before closing time. He carried the tray of soiled dishes into the kitchen. “The peach cobbler was delicious,” he said as he studied her.
Bethany seemed to be calmer now, and nowhere near as upset as she’d been earlier at the jailhouse. Otis was a problem for another day.
“I’ll rinse these off and then I’ll be ready.”
There were no arguments about him walking her home tonight. It seemed Otis really had put a scare into her. He could totally understand that.
Dishes rinsed, she cleaned down the tray and put it aside, then pulled off her apron. Watching her was mesmerizing. Everything Bethany did, she did to perfection. It never looked like hard work; she tackled it head on and simply did whatever needed doing.
“Goodnight, Oscar,” she called over her shoulder.
“Goodnight,” he called back. “Don’t forget to grab that extra orange cake on your way out,” he reminded her, so she did. “Nancy loves orange cake.”
“I think I’m ready,” she told Hunter, placing the cake in her bag and taking her bonnet from the pigeon hole where she kept her belongings out back. He helped her into her coat.
“It’s getting colder now. Make sure you rug up from now on. It won’t be long and it will be snowing.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him. “I guess it will,” she said. “Christmas is not that far away.”
Hunter opened the door and she made her way through ahead of him. “I’m starting on Christmas fare tomorrow,” she told him as they strolled down the main street.
“That sounds about right.” He loved Christmas with all it’s festivities and color. Many of the business owners would begin putting up their trees and decorations soon. It helped to draw customers into their stores. No doubt Oscar would do it soon as well.
The only thing he didn’t like about Christmas, was being alone.
“We’re making puddings this year.”
He glanced across at her. “Oscar hasn’t done puddings since his father died.”
She stopped and turned to him. “Did you know the recipe died with his father?” He didn’t know that and told her so.
“I guess I’m just as bad. My recipes are all in my head, which is just as well because Father never wrote his down either.”
“But your brother…”
“That’s his problem.” She almost snarled the words. “Back to puddings, the ingredients are due in first thing in the morning. If you’re lucky, I might have some left for your evening meal.”
That sounded far more enticing that it should. But he was getting fed up with eating alone. Well, apart from the prisoners that is. “Maybe we can have a meal together one night,” he suggested and waited for her denial. He already regretted the words.
“That would be rather nice, I think.”
Did he hear that correctly? Bethany Lancaster didn’t reject his invitation?
“It certainly would. Just the two of us.”
“I can make something special,” she said looking rather thoughtful.
Let her cook for a night out with him? That would never do. “I will make a booking at the diner. Tomorrow night after you close up?”
“Sounds wonderful.”
As they continued to walk, he slipped his hand into hers. A little cheeky, but he hoped she wouldn’t mind. She stared at him momentarily, but didn’t pull her hand away. He gently squeezed her hand.
It had been years since he’d felt anything for a woman, and Bethany Lancaster was the last person he thought he’d be attracted to. There was something about her that intrigued him. Perhaps it was the fact she got his hackles up. Or maybe that she let him get away with absolutely nothing.
He grinned.
“What’s so funny?”
He dare not tell her what he was thinking, otherwise she might cancel their date.
That made him pause. Was it a date? He guessed it had to be. His heart did a little dance and he felt warm all over.
“Well, here we are,” she said, reaching into her reticule for her key.
“I’m looking forward to our… supper tomorrow night,” he said quietly.
She turned to face him. “I am too. It’s a very long time since I’ve eaten out.”
He stared down into her face. She no longer looked upset, or scared. She seemed more relaxed than she’d been since she arrived. She’d once called him her protector. Did that make her more comfortable? At the time she’d sounded annoyed. Right now she looked as far from annoyed as she could get.
She stared at him. As though she was waiting for him to kiss her. Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight, and her tongue came out and licked her lips. It was his undoing.
Hunter cupped her face with his hands, and moved in to kiss her. She didn’t pus
h him away, and he took that as his cue to continue. Took it as permission.
Before he had a chance to do anything, the door unexpectedly opened. “I thought I heard someone out here. Oh!” Nancy looked startled to see them in that position. “Did I interrupt something,” she asked with a grin.
“No.”
“Yes.”
They both spoke at once. Hunter grinned at Nancy, then winked. “I was just leaving,” he said. “I wanted to ensure Bethany got home safe.”
“Of course,” the older woman said. “Especially after what happened today.” Word got around far too quickly for his liking.
“Where are my manners. Stay for supper, Hunter.”
“I’ve had supper, thanks to this wonderful lady, but I wouldn’t mind a slice of that orange cake,” he said, and Bethany pulled it out of her bag.
“Then come on in. The kettle is already boiling.”
Hunter waited for Bethany to enter the boarding house, then followed suit, closing the door behind him. He wasn’t sure where any of this was going, or even if it would continue, but the more time he got to spend with Bethany the better.
At least he thought so.
~*~
The more time they spent together, the more relaxed Bethany felt around Hunter. He seemed to have warmed to her as well.
He’d been a different person at Nancy’s last night. He’d seemed comfortable and chatted away to the both of them. It was almost as thought they’d known each other for years. When Nancy dished up supper for Bethany and the other boarders, she handed Hunter a meal as well. At first he’d refused, but then accepted.
She couldn’t help but grin. He certainly had a good appetite. “You do know he had a full meal not an hour ago,” she informed her landlady. Hunter winked at her.
“He’s a growing boy,” Nancy said as though he was a teenager.
“You don’t think he’s grown enough?” Hunter was well over six feet tall and could barely get through the doorways as it was.
He grinned at her.
She liked this new banter they now shared. Before they just annoyed each other, but these days they seemed to understand each other better. Hunter was one of the few eligible men in town, but seemed to be one of the hardest to catch. According to Oscar, he was never really interested in settling down, citing his job as the biggest handicap.
Rescuing the Lawman Page 4