The Marshal Meets His Match

by Clari Dees

  “Mmph!” Her teeth clamped hard around the spoon handle as her hands flew out. She closed her eyes tight, bracing for the impact.

  Solid hands caught her shoulders and stopped her descent toward the ground.

  The egg wasn’t so fortunate.

  She heard a dull smack, and the sulfurous odor of rotten egg filled the air. Wyatt looked down, nose wrinkling at the smell emanating from the slimy mess dripping off his shirtfront. He gingerly pulled the fabric away from his body, leaning over to swipe the worst of it off into the grass.

  Meri was helpless to stop the laughter that erupted at the look of disgust on his face. He pulled out his handkerchief to wipe his hands free of the odiferous slime. “I appreciate your concern.”

  “I thought you said they were hard-boiled.” She gasped breathlessly.

  “Apparently I was wrong,” Wyatt replied dryly.

  A fresh round of giggles choked her. “Looks like the yolk’s on you.”

  Wyatt rolled his eyes and groaned. “I think now would be a good time to take Jonah some food and change into a fresh shirt.”

  “If I’d known all it took was a little egg to get out of all these games, I’d have tossed it a little sooner.”

  “You little imp. I think you did this on purpose.”

  Meri escaped the yolk-soaked handkerchief that threatened retaliation, and hurriedly retrieved the basket of food Ms. Maggie had put together for Jonah.

  “Hurry back, Marshal,” Mrs. Van Deusen called out. “The dessert auction starts as soon as the horseshoe tournament ends.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it. I can almost taste those desserts I’ve been hearing about all day.”

  Wyatt took the basket of food from Meri. “I’ll return shortly.”

  “Watch out for bad eggs, Marshal,” she warned, tongue in cheek. It was absolutely ridiculous that a man covered in rotten egg should look so attractive.

  “Next time, warn me a little sooner.” With a wink, he spun on his heel and jogged away.

  * * *

  Wyatt whistled as he changed into a fresh shirt. He was dangerously close to becoming attached to Miss McIsaac, but he didn’t care when he remembered her slender arm around his ribs, her delight when she’d won and her spontaneous laughter at the egg mishap.

  He tucked his shirt in and swung his holster back around his hips. He might have let his guard down around Meri—that only had the potential to damage his heart—but he refused to let his guard down when it came to protecting the town. He was keeping his eyes open and his gun handy to ensure everyone had a memorable, safe picnic.

  “Someone sounds awfully chipper today. Might it be due to a certain young lady?” Jonah looked up from his plate of food as Wyatt came out of the back room.

  “Evidently you weren’t as hungry as you professed, if you have time to talk instead of enjoying that pile of food the ladies sent you.”

  Jonah grinned and changed the subject. “I took a turn around town a while ago. Looks like ever livin’ soul is at the picnic. I didn’t find a thing stirrin’.”

  Wyatt opened the front door and settled his hat on his head. “Thanks. I think I’ll take a quick look around myself before I head back.”

  “Glad to do it. Don’t take too long. Miss McIsaac’ll get tired of waitin’ around and find some other good-lookin’ fella to share dessert with.”

  “Go back to your food, you old coot, before I regret making you my deputy.” He grinned, removing any sting from the words.

  Jonah’s laugh followed him down the boardwalk.

  Wyatt strolled around the different businesses lining the main thoroughfare through town before heading back to the picnic grounds. Jonah was right. Little Creek was as quiet as a graveyard.

  The games were over and picnic goers were slowly gathering around the table that held the decorated dessert baskets, but Wyatt didn’t see Meri. He glanced around, searching for her. Had she left?

  A waving figure caught his eye. Naoma Van Deusen grinned widely and pointed to the tree-lined stream bordering the picnic grounds. Maybe he should have made her the town deputy, the way she managed to keep track of everyone’s movements. Tipping his hat toward her, he followed the sounds of voices and splashing coming from the creek. Quietly slipping through trees, he paused to watch, unnoticed.

  A barefoot Meri was wading in the creek alongside Danny and Billy. He grinned, appreciating the glimpse of slim ankles as she held her skirts above the water. The woman wasn’t afraid to get dirty, and when she relaxed, she wasn’t afraid to have fun. She’d make a good mother.

  The thought startled him. Thoughts like that were dangerous territory for a man who had nothing but dreams on which to build a future. A family needed more than dreams to survive. A family needed a home, security.

  Then maybe it’s time you take that money you’ve been squirreling away and stop planning and start doing.

  He shoved aside the frighteningly intriguing thought. He was simply enjoying a picnic with a pretty girl while keeping an eye out for trouble.

  He stepped onto the creek bank toward the slender woman who was bent over intently watching something in the water flowing around her ankles. She sure made a fetching picture.

  Stop it, he commanded himself. Even if she was the first woman that made him want to, he wasn’t ready to plan a future around her.

  So why was it impossible to walk away from her?

  Chapter Fourteen

  The day wasn’t overly warm, but the exertion of the games made the cool shade and running water of Little Creek look especially inviting. Plopping down on the bank, Meri watched Danny and Billy try to capture a school of minnows with their pails while her thoughts wandered to the dessert auction.

  She’d evaded Wyatt’s question earlier because she had prepared a dessert last night but was now regretting it. She only had herself to blame. In trying not to compete with the town girls, she’d gone totally in the opposite direction. Take her outfit today, for example. It was neat and functional, but painfully plain compared to the bows, ruffles and frills on the bright colorful dresses the other young women wore.

  Her dessert was another attempt at self-sabotage. Not that her dessert would taste bad, she’d made it plenty of times and father and Franks liked it, she’d just never prepared a dessert for the auction before. The desserts on display today would be fancy pies, luscious cakes and other dressed-up treats designed to make an impression, but what did she bring? A pan of plain-and-simple boring old gingerbread.

  Oh, it would make an impression all right. She could hear the snickers and see the looks of pity now. She dropped her head into her hands. Ugh! She’d never particularly cared before what people thought of her. Why was she so worried about it now?

  Because you’re not worried about what people think. You’re worried about what Wyatt Cameron will think.

  “I am not!” Meri’s head flew up as she uttered the words aloud.

  “Aren’t what, Miss Meri?” Danny asked from the edge of the creek.

  “Nothing, Danny. Just arguing with myself, I guess.”

  “Miss Meri, you told us it was an honor to cease from strife. Isn’t arguing with yourself strife?” Billy spoke up, a rascally look on his face.

  Meri grimaced as her words returned to haunt her. Mother had always said to season your words with a little salt because you might have to eat them someday.

  “Yes, it is. So I’m going to cease right now.” Discreetly removing her boots and socks, she stepped into the icy stream, holding the hem of her riding skirt clear of the running water as she waded.

  So she was different from most of the young women in town. They weren’t enjoying the cold water flowing around their ankles or seeing silvery flashes of tiny fish dart over their feet. She was glad she’d given in to the urge to join the children in the water. It was relaxing and relatively peaceful as Billy and Danny moved upstream to investigate the tadpoles the other children had found.

  Standing motionless in the ankle-deep wat
er, Meri bent over to watch little creatures swim out of hiding. A variety of aquatic life, that had found it advantageous to hide from inquisitive little boys, now returned to their various underwater tasks around Meri’s bare feet.

  “I was beginning to think you’d run off and left me again.”

  Meri straightened and spun around, but the slick stones under her feet shifted at her sudden commotion, and she lost her balance. With a startled cry she sat down hard—chilly ankle-deep creek water splashing upward as she landed.

  Drops were still falling from the splash when she surged to her feet, streams of water pouring off the soft leather skirt. A hand reached to assist her to the creek bank, but Meri’s hands were busy shaking the water out of her clothing as she waded out of the streambed. A quick glance showed Wyatt biting his lip and struggling not to laugh. “For the luv’ a— Is this gonna’ be a habit?”

  “What, you falling for me?” He cocked his head innocently.

  “No!” Embarrassment scorched its way across her face.

  “Me sweeping a beautiful woman off her feet?”

  Meri couldn’t have looked at the man if her life depended on it, and she retreated into silence. She was digging herself deeper every time she spoke. She dripped her way over to her boots and stockings. Sitting down with her back to Wyatt, she quickly pulled on the dry footwear. A hand cradled her elbow as she stood, and Meri pulled away from the disconcertingly welcome contact, heading downstream away from the picnic.

  “Where are you going? The dessert auction is just starting.”

  “I’m going to get Sandy and go home. I’m all wet, in case you forgot.” Falling into the creek might not be such a bad thing after all. It gave her an excuse to leave before her dessert came up for auction.

  Hands halted her escape and turned her back toward the picnic. “You’ll dry quickly in this warm sun, and everyone will be too busy with the auction to notice a little damp clothing.”

  “I want to go home.” Meri hated the whine she heard in her voice.

  “Come on. I’ve got my mouth all set for dessert,” he coaxed as he inexorably drew her along with him up the creek bank into the sunshine to a blanket just on the edge of the picnic area.

  It was the blanket they’d sat on for lunch, but it had been moved to a new location farther away from the other scattered picnic blankets. Meri sat reluctantly. At least no one seemed to have noticed her dripping emergence from the trees. Everyone was already gathered around the dessert table where Mr. Hubert was explaining the rules of the auction.

  Wyatt dropped down alongside her, leaning back on his elbows, legs outstretched.

  “Aren’t you going to go bid?” And leave her to her embarrassed misery, free to slip away when he purchased a fancy dessert and the baker claimed her good-looking prize?

  “Since I’m new to this, I’m going to study how this all works for a minute.”

  Bidding started on a plump canned-peach pie with Mr. Hubert reminding bidders that the money raised would go toward a new church piano. The pie sold for fifty cents to the husband of the proud baker. The next items up were a cherry pie, an apple pie and a dried-berry cobbler. Wyatt commented on each item but didn’t bid, laughing when a bidding war started over the cobbler.

  “Mrs. Van Deusen makes the best cobbler in town. Sometimes Mr. Van Deusen wins it, sometimes he doesn’t,” Meri informed him.

  The bidding went to two dollars before Mr. Van Deusen triumphantly carried away the cobbler, magnanimously offering to share with the loser but only after he’d had the first piece. An angel food cake, another pie and delicate cookies were the following items, but still Wyatt sat and watched.

  Nerves were nearly strangling her. Why hadn’t she escaped when Wyatt had gone to change his shirt or persisted in leaving after her fall in the creek? Then she wouldn’t be sitting here agonizing over which girl would claim Wyatt with her dessert. At least she’d found another reason to be glad she’d chosen this particular outfit. The leather skirt hadn’t absorbed the creek water, and she was drying faster than a regular dress would have allowed.

  “I thought you wanted dessert.”

  “I do, but my mouth’s all set for something specific, and I haven’t seen it yet.”

  Meri looked at the girls standing close to the dessert table. She’d seen a couple of them talking to Wyatt earlier; maybe he was waiting on one of their confections.

  Another cobbler passed without a bid from Wyatt.

  “You’re going to run out of choices.” Maybe biting her tongue would silence it.

  “Nope, they’re just saving the best for last.” He smiled, unconcerned.

  They were down to the last three desserts, and Meri’s heart thudded painfully as tension built inside her. She smothered a groan as a thought occurred to her.

  You could have at least brought some cream to garnish the top of your gingerbread, but you can’t even get that right! You are your own worst enemy!

  Wyatt stood abruptly and walked toward the dessert table. This was it. This must have been what he was waiting on. Which girl would walk away on his arm?

  “Dig deep, fellas. This one will make your mouth water.” Mr. Hubert carefully reached into a ribbon-frilled hamper and pulled out a tall, beautifully frosted chocolate cake.

  A murmur of excitement rippled across the assembled crowd. Mr. Hubert started the bidding at fifty cents, and bids flew fast and loud. A pretty blonde stood by the dessert table beaming proudly. Finally Mr. Hubert closed the bidding at four dollars.

  Meri strained upward to see who’d won.

  It…wasn’t Wyatt.

  She sat back with a squishy thud. One of her father’s ranch hands smugly accepted the basket of cake and escorted the attractive girl to a picnic blanket.

  “Next up, folks…” Mr. Hubert reached into a basket and pulled out a small square pan.

  Meri’s heart stopped. It looked even plainer than she’d remembered.

  He sniffed the pan. “Gingerbread, and it smells wonderful. I don’t know who the baker is, but if it tastes as good as it smells, it’ll be a real treat. Who’ll start the bidding?” The words had hardly left Mr. Hubert’s mouth before a firm, ringing voice spoke.

  “Five dollars.”

  Meri’s heart started again with a painful bound.

  “Did you say…five…dollars?” Mr. Hubert stuttered.

  She strained to hear the answer through the roaring silence.

  “Yes. I bid five dollars.”

  Meri’s heart and lungs had functioned automatically for nearly thirty years, but they seemed to have forgotten how to perform their most basic functions. Her eyes and ears, on the other hand, were capturing every detail in agonizing clarity.

  “Our new marshal must like gingerbread, folks. Anyone want to give him a run for his money?” The crowd laughed, but no one bid. “Come on, folks, who’ll give the marshal some competition?”

  “Five twenty-five.” Franks walked toward Wyatt, a big grin showcasing pearly teeth.

  “Five fifty,” Wyatt countered.

  “Five seventy-five,” Franks shouted.

  The bidding war continued, and Mr. Hubert’s gaze bounced between the two men. When the bidding neared eight dollars, Wyatt leaned over to Franks and whispered something. Turning back to Mr. Hubert, he bid again. “Eight dollars!”

  Mr. Hubert looked at Franks, but that gentleman only shook his head, grinning.

  Mr. Hubert slammed his hand down on the table. “Sold!”

  Wyatt walked to the table and handed some bills to the auctioneer.

  “Now that the marshal’s won his dessert, will the baker step forward to claim her dessert partner?”

  Meri was frozen to the blanket. She couldn’t even stand up, much less walk up there.

  Mr. Hubert called again for the lady to come claim her dessert partner, and the assembled picnickers glanced around curiously. Wyatt leaned over the table and said something. Mr. Hubert smiled, nodded, then carefully picked up the next desser
t and called for bids, recalling everyone’s attention to the last item of the auction.

  Meri’s eyes were glued to Wyatt as he returned and carefully set down his burden before seating himself.

  “Ahh, good things come to those who wait.” He winked at her and reached into the basket, pulling out the pan of gingerbread and inhaling deeply. “Smells delicious.”

  Meri watched in a daze as he carefully cut two large pieces of thick, dark gingerbread and slid them onto plates. Opening a small crock that he’d pulled out of the basket along with the plates, he spooned something over the top of the fragrant cake.

  Whipped cream!

  “Just the thing to top it off,” Wyatt said satisfactorily, handing her one of the plates

  Thank you, Ms. Maggie. She must have brought it along with the rest of the food the ranch had supplied today and tucked it in the basket when Meri wasn’t watching.

  He forked a generous piece into his mouth and chewed. “Umm…good.” A second bite quickly followed the first.

  Meri found a voice that sounded nothing like her own. “This is what you had your mouth set for?”

  “Yep!”

  His smirk wasn’t nearly so intimidating or irritating when surrounded by smudges of frothy whipped cream.

  “You knew there’d be gingerbread?’ He nodded, his mouth full. “How?”

  He stuck another piece into his mouth and pointed at her untouched plate with his fork. “I have my sources, and you’re not eating your gingerbread.”

  Meri took a small bite, too distracted to enjoy it. “What did you say to the auctioneer?”

  “I just told him I knew who the lady was and to go on with the auction.” His eyes twinkled merrily.

  “How did you know there would be gingerbread here?”

  He slowly chewed and swallowed before speaking. “I have to protect the identity of my sources, or I’d have people afraid to bring me information.”

  Meri’s eyes narrowed. “You knew I brought gingerbread—” she pointed to her plate “—all this time?”

  Wyatt popped another forkful into his mouth and nodded, grinning roguishly. “It was kind of fun watching you squirm.”