The Marshal's Promise

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The Marshal's Promise Page 19

by Rhonda Gibson

A warm chuckle built in his throat. “You’d be surprised at what I’ve had to choke down.”

  She laughed. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Her gaze moved into the cloudy sky. “Janie will probably be asleep when we get there.”

  He looked up, too. “Then maybe I can walk you home tomorrow night, too. We can start earlier and I can see both Janie and Mrs. Shepherd.”

  “That will be nice.”

  They walked on in silence. The sounds of insects and the cool breeze soothed her warm cheeks. The reverend was a nice man with a big heart. She enjoyed his sermons and found his company pleasant.

  “Here we are.” The reverend released her hand from under his. “Home sweet home.”

  Rebecca wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do. She smiled and walked to the door. “Thank you, Reverend, for walking me home.”

  “It was my pleasure.” He turned and walked away.

  She sighed. Lord, I’m so confused as to what Your plan is but I’m willing to wait until You tell me what to do. Rebecca opened the door and looked about.

  Ruthann sat in the sitting room, waiting for her to come home. “How was your day?” she asked.

  Rebecca looked down into Janie’s basket, which still served as her bed. They would need to get the baby a bigger basket soon—she was growing every day. “A little confusing.”

  “Really? What was confusing about it?”

  Janie had kicked off her blanket. Rebecca covered the baby once more and kissed her forehead. “The reverend walked me home tonight.”

  “That was nice of him.” Ruthann laid her book to the side. “Why didn’t you invite him in, dear?”

  She glanced at Ruthann over her shoulder. Did the reverend walk her home to see Ruthann Shepherd? He had said he wanted to see Janie and invite Ruthann to Sunday service. Relief washed over her at the thought.

  “It was late, but he said he’d like to come in tomorrow night. I told him that would be fine, if it’s all right with you.” Rebecca yawned. She covered her hand with her mouth, but Ruthann had already seen the gesture.

  She smiled at Rebecca. “I think that will be nice. Maybe I’ll bake a pie tomorrow afternoon and we can have coffee and dessert with him.”

  Rebecca nodded. “I’ll invite him then.” She picked up Janie’s basket and carried it to the baby’s room. Had she seen a sparkle in Ruthann’s eyes at the thought of the reverend coming by for dessert? She smiled and decided it might be fun to play matchmaker.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Things were going as planned. Rebecca had constant supervision. The only thing that didn’t sit well with Seth was that the reverend and Rebecca had become very good friends. She encouraged him to walk her home and then, from what he’d gathered from their conversations, they’d enjoyed dessert and board games once there.

  He was recovering nicely and now Seth felt he could continue hunting down the remainder of the Evans gang. Horace Nance was at the top of his list. The man had shot him and then left him to die.

  “You have outdone yourself again, Miss Rebecca.” The reverend rubbed his belly and smiled.

  “Thank you.”

  She no longer blushed at his compliments, which verified for Seth that they were becoming very close. Too close. “Reverend, I’ll be happy to walk Rebecca home this evening.”

  “No!” they both answered in unison and then shared a smile.

  Seth’s blood boiled. They’d answered way too quickly for his taste.

  The reverend recovered first. “I enjoy my evening walks with Miss Rebecca.”

  She smiled. “I’m ready to go now, James.”

  When had she started calling the reverend by his Christian name? Seth saw red as they walked out the door and onto the porch.

  “Good night, Marshal.” Rebecca walked down the steps. The reverend extended his arm and she placed her hand within the crook of his elbow.

  Seth’s heart sank. The only reason they could have for not wanting him along was because they wanted to be alone. He should have been happy that Rebecca was finding someone to love her. To give her the home and family she’d told him she craved.

  But he loved her. The thought took him by surprise. He wanted to give her the home and family. Children with blond hair and blue eyes, like Rebecca’s.

  When had his feelings turned to love? He’d signed on to be Rebecca’s protector, not to fall in love with her. Seth pulled the door shut behind him and eased down his stairs. He followed the couple at a safe distance.

  They never looked back. The reverend bent his head and listened to her every word. Some protector the reverend was. James had no idea he was being followed. Tomorrow he’d have a talk with the reverend about his lack of awareness of their surroundings. He could have been a member of the Evans gang stalking them.

  Seth stopped and leaned against a tree when they got to Rebecca’s front door. Would James kiss her good-night? Seth leaned his head back against the bark, watching but not wanting to see, if the reverend did kiss her.

  Rebecca opened the door and stepped inside. The reverend turned, waved at him, and then followed her inside, closing the door behind them.

  So the good preacher had known they were being followed. Relief and irritation battled for controlling emotions. Seth turned and walked back to his own house. She could see whoever she chose to see. Still, his heart warred with his head.

  Two hours later, Seth laid his book down and glanced at the ticking clock. Were they still together? What were they doing tonight? The questions continued to swirl in his mind. He looked down at the book. Seth shook his head. He couldn’t even remember what he’d read.

  A light tap on the door drew his attention. Who would be calling so late? He walked to the door. What kind of trouble lurked on the other side? As a U.S. Marshal, he expected the worst when someone arrived in the middle of the night.

  “I hope you don’t mind my dropping by so late, Marshal.” The reverend stood with his hat in his hand.

  Seth pulled the door open farther and moved back to allow him in. “Not at all, Reverend. What can I do for you?”

  The reverend laughed. “It’s more a matter of what I can do for you.”

  What did he think Seth needed help with? “Oh?”

  “May I sit down?”

  “Of course.” Seth followed him into the sitting room. The reverend chose a chair and Seth moved to the couch. “What’s this about, Reverend?”

  “It’s about your feelings for Miss Rebecca.” He held his hat between his legs and stared into Seth’s eyes.

  “My feelings or yours?” If this were any other man, he wouldn’t be having this conversation.

  “I know my feelings are pure friendship. What are yours?”

  Had his feelings been out there for everyone to see but himself? It was a relief to know the reverend only felt friendship for Rebecca. “Until tonight, I didn’t know I had any feelings for her.”

  “Well, now that you know, what are you going to do about it?”

  He sobered. “I don’t know. Probably nothing.”

  “So you’re not going to tell her?”

  Seth stood. “No. I’ve just discovered how deep my love for her runs and I can’t bear the thought of losing her forever.”

  “You aren’t making any sense, Seth. Why don’t you sit back down and tell me what’s eating at you? Maybe with God’s help, we can work though it together.”

  Seth had never talked about what had happened to Clare or Jesse with anyone. He looked into the reverend’s kind eyes. Maybe this was the man to tell. Maybe the reverend could help him overcome the guilt he harbored within his heart. He sat back down.

  The two men sat in silence for several minutes. Seth didn’t know where to start. Should he tell Clare’s story first? Or Jesse’s? Would talking about them make any difference?

  He cleared his throat. “I gave Clare my heart when we were teenagers. Three years ago we were planning on getting married.” Seth stopped and pictured her face. Instead of the pain th
at normally swept through him at her loss, he simply enjoyed the beauty of who she had been.

  The reverend asked in a soft voice, “What happened?”

  Seth focused on the far wall as the memories flowed. “Clare was a quiet young woman, timid with most people. I arrested a man named Copper. His brothers, Josh and Jasper wanted him out of jail. They abducted Clare and took her to their hideout. Then they threatened to kill her if I didn’t release their brother.” Seth swallowed the lump in his throat. “I refused and they killed her.”

  “You are not responsible for her death.”

  Seth met the reverend’s gaze. “How can you say that? I didn’t protect her. I didn’t rescue her in time.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I let Clare down. What if I do the same thing with Rebecca?”

  James leaned back in his chair. “The person responsible for Clare’s death is the man that killed her. You tried to protect her. You tried to rescue her, but in the end it was her time to die. We all have to die at some time and none of us know when God will call us home.”

  “Are you saying I couldn’t have saved her no matter what?” Seth wanted to believe that God had called her home and Clare hadn’t died before her time.

  He nodded. “Seth, do you feel God led you to the life of a U.S. Marshal?”

  “Yes, I do.” If there was anything in Seth’s life that he was a hundred percent sure of, it was that he was supposed to protect others.

  “And a marshal’s job is to protect others and uphold the law, right?”

  Seth nodded.

  “Can you protect everyone from the evil of this world?”

  “No, only God can do that.”

  “Then why are you beating yourself up for Clare’s death?”

  For three years he’d dealt with the guilt of losing Clare. He had blamed himself because she had trusted him to rescue her. But, he had never thought to put God into the equation. God didn’t want his children to live feeling guilt-ridden. Seth had no control over what God did or didn’t do, but he could choose not to punish himself because of something he couldn’t control. “I see what you mean.”

  “Good. Now are you going to tell Miss Rebecca how you feel?”

  Seth grinned. “Not yet. I still have unfinished business with the Evans gang and then I’ll tell her everything, including that I’m the one who shot Jesse and that I love her. Satisfied, Reverend?”

  James grunted. “Not really, but that’s good enough for now, I suppose.” He grinned.

  Half an hour later, the reverend said good-night and Seth returned to his chair. His thoughts never strayed far from Rebecca. How was she going to react to the news that he’d shot Jesse?

  He’d half expected the reverend to be shocked that his bullet was the one that had ended Jesse’s life, but the reverend had accepted the fact as if it were nothing. Seth didn’t think Rebecca would be as forgiving. Jesse was to be her husband—the man that she could have started a family with—but with one shot he’d taken Jesse’s life. Would that be an unforgiveable sin in Rebecca’s eyes?

  * * *

  Rebecca slipped into the house. She didn’t want to disturb Ruthann and the rest of the quilters. Their laughter filled the house and for a brief moment, Rebecca was afraid they’d wake Janie. She laid the baby in her crib, waited for her to begin sucking on her thumb again and then decided to go make a cup of tea.

  With Seth gone, this week she’d had extra time at home. As she avoided the sitting room and made her way to the kitchen, Rebecca thanked the Lord again for such a nice house. It was large with four bedrooms, two sitting rooms, a formal dining area and a comfortable kitchen that felt cozy and warm.

  Voices came from the kitchen. “The way I heard it, the marshal thinks she has the money.”

  Rebecca stopped just outside the doorway. The person speaking had spoken so softly, she felt sure the woman didn’t want to be overheard.

  “I heard that, too. It’s sad really to think that she’d keep stolen money.”

  Rebecca recognized Mrs. Walker’s familiar hiss. When had she started attending Ruthann’s weekly quilting bee? Not wanting anything to do with gossip, she turned to leave. But Mrs. Walker’s next words stopped her. “But I knew when she showed up here announcing she was Jesse Cole’s mail-order bride she was no good. It’s a disgrace, that’s what it is.”

  They were talking about her. Rebecca squared her shoulders and walked into the kitchen. “I think you ladies should know that I don’t have anyone’s stolen money.” The shocked looks on their faces at having been caught gossiping about her should have brought a smile to Rebecca’s face, but they didn’t.

  Mrs. Walker raised her head. “Well, that bit of news came from the marshal himself. If the law thinks you took it, who am I to doubt them?” She marched out of the room as if she were the queen of the castle.

  Rebecca wanted to tell her she was a hate-filled woman who needed a good thrashing, but decided that would be most unchristian of her and held her tongue. Instead she turned her gaze on Mrs. Hamilton, the other woman who she’d heard first. “Is that true?”

  “Well, I didn’t hear the marshal say that, but my husband told me pretty much the same.”

  So everyone around town thought she had stolen money. “Where did I steal this money from?” Rebecca continued to stare at Mrs. Hamilton.

  The older woman swallowed. “Well, the rumor isn’t that you stole the money. It’s that Jesse stole it from the Evans gang and now, because you are Jesse’s girl, they think you have it.”

  Rebecca felt heat fill her neck and face. “And this is what the marshal believes, too?”

  Mrs. Hamilton nodded. “He told Mr. Hamilton to keep an eye on you. The Evans gang thinks you have the money and they are going to try and kidnap you to get it back.”

  “But that makes no sense at all. When I got here Jesse was already dead. How did he give me the money?” Rebecca leaned against the sideboard.

  Mrs. Hamilton inched toward the door. “I don’t know, dear, I didn’t start the rumor.”

  Rebecca pinned her with a gaze. “No, but you are keeping it alive, aren’t you? Do you have any idea how much gossip hurts others? Or is it that you just don’t care?”

  The older woman gasped and then fled the room.

  Bitterness laced Rebecca’s thoughts. So the marshal not only kept an eye on her because of his promise to Jesse, but he thought she was a common criminal who just might slip and lead him to a pile of stolen money?

  She didn’t want to stay where she wasn’t trusted. A plan began to form in her mind. Maybe now was the time to leave Cottonwood Springs.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Horace Nance loved to hear the sound of his own voice. After two hours of listening to him go on and on about nothing important, Seth was tempted to stop their horses and gag his prisoner. But maybe he could get the villain to talk about something besides himself.

  “Hey, Nance, instead of talking about yourself, why don’t you tell me where Maxwell Evans is hiding out?” Seth could almost feel the daggers Horace’s eyes bore into his back. He didn’t doubt that Horace would love to throw a real blade at him right now, but since his hands and feet were tied around the beast he rode upon, Seth wasn’t too worried about that happening.

  Horace barked, “Where’s the fun in that?”

  “The judge just might shorten your sentence some, if you do.” He glanced over his shoulder.

  “Yeah.” Horace nodded. “And Maxwell just might kill me when he catches up with me, too.”

  Seth turned back around. “I might kill you if you don’t.” The threat hung heavy between them.

  Horace forced a laugh. “Not likely.”

  Seth turned in his saddle. “No? What makes you so sure?”

  The outlaw leaned back in his saddle. “I’ve learned to read people, Marshal. You wouldn’t kill anyone unless it’s in self-defense. It isn’t in your nature.”

  Seth faced forward again. Horace was right. Never would he gun down a ma
n, just because he could. Jesse had been an accident.

  “But, Maxwell, he’s another story. I thought I knew him, but after he got his first taste of killin’ a few months ago, he hasn’t been the same. He shot a boy, just because he could. Then a few weeks ago, we stumbled upon this couple with a babe. While Maxwell forced them deeper into the woods, I hid that baby.” Horace grew silent. “Never could stomach killin’ for the sake of killin’, and I couldn’t allow him to kill that pretty little girl.”

  Maxwell had killed Janie’s parents? Had he meant for the law to think the local Indians had done such a thing? Probably, but Seth had never thought the Indians were responsible.

  “You know he’s goin’ after Jesse’s girl, don’t you?”

  A cold chill ran down Seth’s spine. He steeled his voice and asked, “Why?”

  Horace rocked in the saddle from side to side. “He thinks she’s pretty and he thinks Jesse told her where the rest of our money is hidden.”

  “Doesn’t he know that she hadn’t even arrived when Jesse was killed?” Seth led the horses down to the riverbank, the same one Horace had ambushed him at weeks earlier.

  “Oh, he knows. But to his way of thinkin’, Jesse told her in a letter or somethin’ like that.”

  Seth rubbed his aching thigh. Hadn’t he had the same thoughts? But he’d seen the letters and knew it wasn’t so. He held the canteen for Horace to drink out of.

  After he’d had his fill, Horace frowned. “I guess since you caught me, he’ll have to go after Jesse’s girl on his own.”

  Seth acted uninterested. He took a swig of water and sloshed it around in his mouth. “I’m surprised he doesn’t send one of his men after her.”

  “Ain’t got no more men. It’s just me and him now. You best watch out. He’s waitin’ for me in Durango, Marshal.” Horace’s gaze jerked to him. “That’s just what you wanted to hear, ain’t it, Marshal?”

  Seth grinned up at him. “Didn’t hurt my ears hearing it, Horace.”

  * * *

  Rebecca finished the dishes and then dried her hands. She was tired. Her nights had been restless waiting for Seth’s return. The longer he was gone the madder and more hurt she became. Rebecca didn’t know how much longer she could stay in a town where she was constantly referred to as Jesse’s girl and where everyone talked about her behind her back.

 

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