The Marshal's Ready-Made Family

by Sherri Shackelford

  At least his timely arrival offered her a much-needed reprieve from wedding shopping. After licking her palms, she smoothed her hair and pinched her cheeks.

  When Jo emerged from behind the screen, her mother stood before her, her arms crossed over her chest.

  “Almost a reprieve,” Jo muttered beneath her breath.

  “I’d like a word with you.”

  Uh-oh.

  “I can see you don’t want my help.” Edith ducked her head and tugged on the lapels of her jacket. “You wear whatever you think is appropriate for the occasion. Just promise you won’t embarrass me in front of the whole town.”

  The comment prickled. Jo opened and closed her mouth. Anything she said was bound to drive the conversation in circles.

  She glanced around the room and realized Cora was studying a rainbow display of ribbons. The little girl needed all the love and attention they could provide. “Maybe you could see about a dress for my most special attendant?”

  Cora smiled and played with the other children in town, but she’d still suffered a trauma, and they were all hypervigilant to signs of difficulty.

  “Would you like that?” Jo directed her question toward Cora. “Since Garrett and I are getting married, this is your grandma.”

  Her ma gasped and covered her heart with one hand. “A granddaughter. Why, I didn’t even think... Well, what do you know...everything happened so quickly. What a perfectly wonderful thing.” She cupped her hands over her mouth and stood for a moment in stunned silence.

  When the realization finally registered, Edith grasped Cora’s hand. “We’ll buy you a new dress and some ribbons. You’ve got the most wonderful curls. We won’t even have to put your hair up in rags. Would you like that?”

  Cora stared up at the older woman in awe, but didn’t seem to mind being hustled deeper into the store. Jo’s heart warmed at their easy chatter. Why hadn’t she thought of encouraging their relationship earlier? Cora was the perfect distraction against her mother’s meddling. Not to mention the little girl could use a bit of fussing over.

  Jo was still smiling when Garrett stepped into the room, his hat in his hands. Her smile faltered as she took in the serious look on his face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing is wrong.”

  “You look like someone peppered your porridge this morning.”

  He attempted a halfhearted grin and pulled a folded square of paper from his breast pocket. “I bought the Miller place for us. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Jo lifted one shoulder. “Why would I mind?”

  “Because I realized that you haven’t even seen the inside yet. It’s been empty for almost a year. It needs a fresh coat of paint and some repairs, but I think it’s worth the elbow grease.”

  “Whatever you think.”

  “You’re sure you don’t mind?” he asked, his voice rising in a question. “We’ll have a lot of work ahead of us. What if you don’t like the house?”

  “It’s a roof over our heads.” Jo snorted. “Don’t forget. I’m not like other ladies. I’m not afraid of getting dirty and it sure doesn’t take much to make me happy.”

  Garrett flashed another half grin, then he tucked his chin to his chest and circled the brim of his hat in a now-familiar gesture. “That’s one of my favorite things about you.”

  A giddy sense of joy filled her heart. For once she believed him. She truly believed he appreciated the qualities that made her different.

  A perfectly brilliant idea sprang into her head. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before.

  Her old neighbor, Elizabeth Elder, had given Jo a dress for courting when she’d left for Texas. Jo had taken out the dress once before, but it was too fancy for Cimarron Springs. Maybe if she removed some of the trim and a yard or two of material from the skirts it might suit. She loathed sewing, but there was someone in town who owed her a favor—Beatrice.

  Jo snapped her fingers. She’d stumbled upon the perfect solution. She’d have Beatrice fix her dress and arrange her hair, and keep her ma distracted with her new grandchild.

  Garrett tilted his head. “What are you thinking about?”

  Filled with a renewed sense of purpose, Jo pivoted on her heel. “I realized I own a dress I can wear for the ceremony. A dress that will even meet my ma’s approval.”

  She made it to the door before realizing Garrett remained frozen where she’d left him.

  He backed into a display of creamware and the whole shelf clattered ominously. “You’re sure you’re not upset about any of this?”

  “Nah.” She hesitated. “Actually, you’ve saved me a lot of trouble. Why are you so worried?”

  “I’m used to doing things on my own. I keep forgetting I need to think of someone else.”

  “I guess it depends on the kind of things you’re doing, right?” Jo nibbled on her jagged thumbnail. “You don’t think it’s bad, do you? That I don’t care.”

  Garrett shook his head from side to side. “Nope. I don’t think it’s bad at all.”

  “There’s something else I should warn you about. I know my ma said the wedding will be small, but I have a feeling the whole town is going to be there.”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind? I know you wanted to go before the judge. Just the two of us.”

  “I don’t mind.” He cleared his throat. “Actually, I I’m glad we’re having a church wedding.”

  They stood in awkward silence for a moment before Jo finally broke the impasse. “It never bothered me what other people thought when I was younger. But as I got older, something changed. I started worrying about what I should be doing and what I should be saying. Which only made things worse. I’ll make you a deal. We’ll both forget about everyone else and do what feels right instead.”

  “That’s a deal.”

  Garrett studied an array of brightly colored sewing thread. Framed examples of samplers decorated the wall above the display. Cross-stitched alphabets as well as Bible verses and flowers.

  He touched the edge of a wooden frame. “My mother once asked me to memorize a Bible verse. ‘For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.’” He straightened a row of blue-speckled enamelware coffeepots. “I memorized the words but I never thought about why they were important to her.”

  “I suppose she wanted you to remember that we are created in God’s image to do good things.” Jo joined him before the display. “I believe in His word.”

  Clearing his throat, Garrett glanced away. “I don’t know what I believe anymore. Seems like there’s an awful lot of pain out there considering He has plans for us to grow and prosper and all that.”

  Once again Jo sensed a deep sorrow behind his words. Garrett had lost his parents and his sister. He had a right to be bitter, to question his faith. Other people had been shaken by lesser tragedies. Yet there was a profound agony behind his troubled spirit. Jo had a suspicion there was a dark place hidden in his soul. Despite her fears, her instincts urged her not to push him. He’d reveal his secrets when the time was right for him, and not a moment before.

  The impulsive side of her nature chafed against the restraint. What if her instincts were wrong? Would his shadowed past prevent them from having a future together?

  She offered the only wisdom she had. “You know how the rocks on the bank of a stream are jagged and sharp, but the rocks in the water are smooth and almost soft? I think that’s how God sees our hardships, like water rushing over us and smoothing the hard edges, polishing us up for Heaven.”

  “Well, I must shine like a new penny.” Garrett laughed humorlessly as he replaced his hat. “How about tomorrow we stop by the Miller place after we visit with the reverend?”

  Jo nodded. “Le
t’s bring Cora along, too.”

  “If we keep on agreeing all the time, we’ll have the quietest marriage in history.”

  “Sure.”

  Jo shivered despite the heat. If they didn’t have strong feelings now, would they ever? She considered Tom Walby and some of the other fellows she’d known over the years. Garrett wasn’t likely to shoot up a saloon because of her, but did she really want that?

  The marshal touched her shoulder, halting her exit. “I almost forgot, I need you to send a telegram.”

  Jo tilted her head to one side. “Mrs. Schlautman is working today. She’d be happy to help.”

  Garrett’s expression grew somber. “It’s about Cora. About the marriage. I’d like you to send it. I’m tired of people gossiping about us.”

  Jo nodded.

  His trust with the correspondence was minor, but it was a start. Maybe someday he’d trust her with the secret corroding his soul.

  They exited the shop and walked the length of the boardwalk beneath the curious stares and knowing smiles of several townspeople. They’d definitely become a source of entertainment for the townsfolk.

  After arriving at the telegraph office, Jo sent out a missive addressed to a solicitor named Flynn O’Neills concerning an accounting of the estate of Cora’s parents. Garrett directed the solicitor to put the little girl’s inheritance into trust.

  Jo printed out the final words and pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “You’re a good man. She’ll have a secure future.”

  “I’m not.”

  The despair in his voice startled her. “There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind about you.”

  “You don’t know that.” He held her fingers, his grip bordering on painful. “You don’t know that.”

  “Tell me then,” she declared boldly. “Tell me one thing that will change my mind about you.”

  He held her gaze, his coffee-colored eyes dark with pain and indecision. She kept her eyes steadfast, unyielding, willing him to trust her with his pain.

  They stayed like that for what seemed an eternity while an odd battle of wills played out between them.

  Garrett released his hold first. “It’s not too late—”

  “I’m not calling off this marriage unless you give me a good reason.”

  She felt the indecision raging within him, a palpable thing. At last he spoke, “Thank you for helping with the telegram.”

  Jo sighed. “You’re welcome.”

  He folded the notes she’d taken for his telegram and slid the paper into his breast pocket.

  A lawman always had secrets. It was part of the job. She’d have to trust that he’d eventually confide his worries to her, because she had a feeling Marshal Garrett Cain knew a lot more about keeping secrets than most men.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Almost three weeks after Garrett had purchased the Miller house, he squinted his left eye and leveled his hands.

  “Shoot already,” Maxwell ordered.

  Tossing a quelling glare over one shoulder, Garrett aimed the slingshot once more. He released the elastic and the rock sprang free. A split second later, his tin-can target ricocheted off its perch.

  “Peas and carrots.” Maxwell stomped. “You beat me again.”

  “I haven’t beaten you yet. If you make the next shot, it’s a tie.”

  The young boy snatched another pebble from the mound at his feet. He bit his lip and took aim, his single front tooth showing white against his lower lip. He’d lost the other front tooth the previous evening and the story of how he’d wiggled it loose had been repeated with epic drama.

  Maxwell squinted and released his fingers. His shot glanced off the edge of the second can and for an agonizing moment his target teetered before tumbling triumphantly off the stump. Maxwell waved his fists in the air, giddy at having matched an adult shot for shot.

  Garrett swiped the back of his hand across his damp brow. “That’s a tie.”

  He had a feeling they’d be here all night if Max had lost the round.

  Jo smiled indulgently from her seat atop the corral fence. The sun flamed behind her, and he couldn’t tear his gaze from the sharp relief of her profile. As was her custom, she wore her trousers for chores around her parents’ farm. Today she’d donned a striped vest over a crisp white shirt. The combination should have been masculine. He’d never seen a more feminine sight in his life.

  The buttoned vest accentuated the curve of her tiny waist. The collar of her shirt revealed the delicate hollow of her neck. She’d tucked her pants into the tops of her knee boots, and he couldn’t help but notice her delightfully proportioned legs.

  In town she carried an edge about her. In the country she relaxed. Steady, easy chatter rang between her and her brothers. They teased and taunted each other, always with underlying respect and restraint. She was akin to the hills rolling into the distance—quietly beautiful and deceptively fierce.

  Not for the first time it struck him how constrained a woman’s life must be. They toiled from sundown till sunset. They bore children and cared for elderly parents while their husbands worked the fields. The only weakness he’d ever observed amongst their fiery lot was men. Look at his mother. She’d remained married to a madman. A man who cared more about drink than his own family.

  A man who’d murdered her and left his children orphans.

  A hearty gust of balmy June wind whipped a lock of Jo’s hair across her forehead, and she hastily shoved it aside. He’d never seen a more curious mix of temperaments in one person. She had a spine of forged steel and a heart of pure light. Even as he watched, she turned toward the house with a smile of dazzling joy. Distanced from the event, he felt his heart open as she threw back her head and laughed. He couldn’t see the source of her amusement. He didn’t care.

  He clung to the moment. Time crystallized as she caught his transfixed gaze.

  Her green eyes flashed with amusement, and they shared a brief moment of united thought. Though no words were spoken, he imagined they were connected, linked in a mutual appreciation of the beauty and joy surrounding them.

  His feet drew him inexorably forward. He needed to touch her, ensure she was real. How, in such a short time, had she stitched her way into the very fabric of his existence? When they were apart, she remained at the forefront of his thoughts. When they were together, his senses remained attuned to her unique scent, that curious mixture of sunlight and evergreens. He felt her emotions as though they were his own. Her joy resonated in his chest and her sorrow wrapped around his heart like a vise. He didn’t understand what was happening to him, and for once he didn’t care.

  He held out his hand to assist her down from her perch. “I think your brothers are warming to me.”

  “They must be. You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

  Garrett laughed, and she clasped his fingers. As she leaped off the top rung, her vest caught on a splinter. She stumbled into him.

  He lassoed her around the waist. “Be careful. You’re still healing.”

  “I’m fine. The fire was ages ago.”

  His heart thumped against his ribs as he gently touched the fading pink wound on her cheek. She captured his wrist and turned her face into his palm. His whole body quivered with awareness.

  Jo lifted her head, her alluring eyes flashing with mischief. “Sometimes I think you’re afraid of me. Like right now, you’re trembling.”

  He glanced behind him and realized they were alone. A rare thing around the McCoy farm. “I’m terrified of you, JoBeth McCoy. You can outgun me, outscrap me and outsmart me. You’re so beautiful you take my breath away.”

  “I’ve never seen you like this.” Her voice caressed his palm. “I don’t know whether you’re teasing me or not.”

  “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing
about you. Except I’d never tease a woman who can shoot a tin can from a hundred yards.”

  “Be serious.” Her expression grew somber. “You really don’t mind that I’m not like Mary Louise Stuart?”

  Garrett held her at arm’s length and made a point of studying her features as a delicate flush crept up her neck.

  This was a side of Jo she kept hidden, her insecurities and worries. Yet she’d confided in him, trusted him. Her faith renewed his tattered soul. “The world is full of girls like Mary Louise, but there’s only one JoBeth McCoy.”

  If anything good came of their marriage other than creating a family for Cora, he’d make Jo see that she was beautiful and desirable. “You have enough confidence for ten men in everything but your own appeal.”

  He felt as though he’d been given a precious gift. God had saved one perfect bloom. A treasure hidden in plain sight for him and no one else. She didn’t know about his past, and there was no reason she’d ever discover his secrets. Maybe it was possible for people to change. The more time he spent with Jo, the stronger he felt. As though he could move mountains with his bare hands. He’d take on a grizzly with Maxwell’s slingshot.

  She ran the tip of her tongue along her full lower lip, and he couldn’t resist the invitation. He leaned in, and she tilted her chin. The moment their lips touched, a sense of peace overwhelmed him. For the first time since the tragedy, he felt whole again, like his soul had finally begun to heal.

  The dinner bell rang, startling them apart. Maxwell rounded the corner, his face flush with excitement. “Someone has come to call!”

  Chafing at the interruption, Garrett glanced around the clearing. He’d been so distracted, an army of soldiers could have marched by and he wouldn’t have noticed. Jo appeared dazed, her face adorably flushed and her lips parted.

  Maxwell yanked on her vest. “Jo, did you hear me? There’s a fancy gentleman here come for dinner.”

  Garrett threaded his fingers with Jo’s, exchanging an indulgent grin before following the boy. They rounded the corner and Garrett froze.