Since she hadn’t found a way to return, it really didn’t matter. They would assume she’d chickened out, and decided to let the matter drop. But what once was a burning desire for justice, now seemed remote and almost as if it had happened to someone else. She continued on her way, trying to make sense of her change in attitude. The idea of Wes factoring into her lack of concern didn’t bother her as much as it should have.
The mercantile was busy, even though it was barely nine o’clock. Women moseyed up and down the aisles, calling greetings to each other as they selected items from the shelves, at the same time keeping a close watch on small children.
The odor of pickles in brine overwhelmed her until she moved further into the store. A man she’d never seen before stood behind the counter in Arnold’s place, since the store owner must’ve been off with Wes chasing outlaws. “Where I should be,” she groused under her breath.
The man nodded politely. “Can I help you with something?”
“Yes. I would like to buy a skirt and blouse, but I’m not sure I have enough money.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Ain’t you the marshal’s new wife?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Well, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry about. He left word before he took off that if you needed anything, we was to put it on his bill.”
Stunned for the moment, she gritted her teeth, then stuck out her chin. “I prefer to pay for my own things.”
He scratched his head and frowned. “Now, why would you do that? You’re his missus.”
“But I’m also my own person.”
Two women who had been chatting behind her grew silent. In fact, all conversation in the store seemed to stop. Even the children stared at her in wonder.
Anna turned and addressed the group. “Don’t you ever want to have your own money, buy your own things?”
The women glanced at each other, and slowly, one after the other, shook their heads.
Honestly, they’re like a bunch of robots.
“Well I prefer to earn my own way, and be responsible for myself.”
“Ma’am, didn’t you just say you weren’t sure you had enough money?” The store clerk still looked confused.
“Yes, that’s true.” She could feel the heat rising to her face. “But that’s because I need another job.”
“Mrs. Shannon?” A blond woman behind her tapped her on the arm.
“Yes?”
“I doubt anyone in town would hire you, since the marshal told most of the storekeepers that they weren’t to give you a job.”
Anna gaped. “He did what?”
The woman backed up and clutched her throat. “That’s what my husband said. He owns the bakery and the marshal stopped in last evening and talked to him.”
Anna glared at the woman, who swallowed and retreated, stepping on the toes of the woman behind her.
You have to get your temper under control. At least until she laid eyes on her husband. She took a deep breath and smiled at the clerk.
“Did you want a skirt and blouse?” he asked, watching her warily.
She fumbled in her dress pocket, withdrew the few coins she found, and slapped them on the counter. “Whatever that will buy.”
“But, Miz Shannon, the marshal said . . .” He trailed off as Anna leaned toward him, her lips tightening.
“I said. Whatever. That. Will. Buy.” She bit off each word.
“Yes, ma’am.” He scooted around the counter. Pulling a brown skirt and green print blouse from a rack, he placed them on the counter. “This looks to be about your size.”
Anna nodded. “Thank you. I’ll take them.”
The silence continued as he wrapped the garments in brown paper and tied the package with twine. Anna picked up the bundle, nodded at the clerk and the women, and with her head held high, left the store.
She fumed as she marched down the street. He told everyone in town that they were not to give her a job? The nerve of the man! Well, she would show him. She headed for the jailhouse. A quick look through the ‘wanted’ posters would give her a way to collect some money by dragging in some unsuspecting outlaw. She’d prove to her husband that she was a self supporting woman.
It had been bad enough being held prisoner in the pastor’s home all last week, but she sure as hell didn’t intend to spend the rest of her life leeching off a man. Her mother would be appalled.
Apparently she opened the jailhouse door with more enthusiasm than she’d intended, when the man sitting behind Wes’s desk shot out of the chair like he’d been booted from behind, and whipped out a gun.
“Uh, sorry.” She stopped, her eyes widening at the Peacemaker aimed at her chest.
The man shook his head and returned the gun to its holster. “You scared me there, ma’am. Sorry about that.”
She took a calming breath, and moved toward Wes’s desk as the man settled himself back in the chair. The ‘Deputy Marshal’ badge pinned to his chest answered any questions she would have about his presence.
“Good morning, Deputy.” She smiled brightly, trying to make up for her blunder. “I’m the marshal’s wife.”
“How do you do, ma’am.” He nodded and tugged at the brim of his hat. “The marshal said I should expect a visit from you.”
Her eyebrows drew together, a small knot beginning to form in her middle. “He did?”
“Yes, Miz Shannon. He left this here note for you.” He reached into the middle desk drawer and withdrew a folded sheet.
She continued to stare at him as she snatched it from his hand, and opened it. Glancing down, she read,
Anna,
I know you want to play bounty hunter while I’m gone, but I’ve given my deputy strict instructions not to let you anywhere near the wanted posters. Please don’t make his job harder by insisting he hand them over.
We’ve discussed this before, and in this time and place catching outlaws is not a woman’s job. Please go on home and see if the church ladies can give you something to occupy your time.
Wes
For the first time in Anna’s life, the expression seeing red made sense. She truly felt the blood rushing upward, practically blinding her. It was a wonder her eyes and ears weren’t bleeding from the built up pressure in her head.
See if the church ladies can give me something to occupy my time? She would go on home, as he suggested, but once she got there she would scour that house, looking for her gun so she could shoot him dead when he walked through the front door.
Stiffening her spine, she managed a grimace in the deputy’s direction, turned on her heel and left the building, squashing the note in her hand.
It was doubtful counting to ten would take away her rage. Four thousand would not be enough.
Anna slammed through the house, ripping off the buttons of her dress as she strode into the bedroom. She hauled her jeans out of the dresser drawer and snatched one of Wes’s shirts. Her sandals were not made for running, but with her anger she probably wouldn’t notice any pain in her feet for days.
After an hour of pushing herself, ignoring the looks cast in her direction from people she met along the way, Anna returned to the house, sweaty, panting and wishing with all her heart for a shower. Something I’ll never see here.
At least her anger had subsided. She took a cool bath, dressed in her new skirt and blouse, then dropped onto the bed and was fast asleep in minutes.
Shortly after noon, Anna sat back on her heels in front of the kitchen cabinet, frustrated at not finding her gun in the very last place there was to look. Damn the man for hiding it. Of course she wouldn’t shoot him. Well, probably not, anyway. But it would be nice to have the gun, since it was hers. Bought and paid for−with money she’d earned herself.
A knock on the front door drew her attention from the satisfying daydream of tying her husband to the kitchen chair and setting fire to the house. She groaned as she rose, stiff from being on her knees for so long, and using muscles that had been inac
tive for weeks, and yanked at the door handle.
The pastor’s wife, Alice, stood in the doorway, three women behind her, all carrying dishes. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Shannon. May we come in?”
Now what?
Anna moved back. “Of course, please come in.” Her mother might have been a die-hard feminist, but she’d taught her daughter manners.
The four women settled on the sofa and chair and looked at her expectantly. Anna eased into the last chair in the room and returned their stare. “How nice of you to visit.”
“And it’s a pleasure to see you again.” Alice indicated the other women. “This is Mrs. Penelope Davidson, Mrs. Carol Sanders, and Miss Marie Wegman.”
Each woman nodded in turn.
“When the marshal stopped by my home last evening—”
Anna held up her hand. “He stopped by your house?”
“Yes.” Alice smiled brightly. “He was quite concerned about leaving you here all alone, and thought it might be a good idea for you to join our little sewing circle.”
Anna stood, trying very hard to get her temper under control. “It seems my husband was quite the busy man yesterday. It’s a wonder he had enough time to put together a posse, what with him racing around town, arranging my life.”
“I know, dear. Isn’t it wonderful how he looks after you? It must be such a blessing after having to take care of yourself all this time.”
Closing her eyes and giving a soft moan, Anna sank back down. Since she knew now time travel was possible, she had no doubt where the idea for The Stepford Wives had come from. “While I thank you for your invitation, I don’t sew.”
Alice waved her hand in dismissal. “That’s no problem, dear. We will be happy to teach you what you don’t know. The marshal told me . . .” She paused as Anna dropped her head into her hands.
The woman spoke softly. “Are you all right, Mrs. Shannon?”
Anna sat up. “Yes. I’m fine. I’m sure the marshal told you I’m not skilled in household duties, so if you’re willing to teach me, then yes, I’ll be happy to join your little circle.” She regarded them all with fake enthusiasm, and clasped her hand in her lap. “When and where?”
Alice raised her eyebrows. “Why, now. Right here.”
Anna’s smile faded. “Of course.”
Late the next afternoon, Anna trooped over to the café in her new skirt and blouse and pulled up a chair. Her eyes burned from another night of tossing and turning, followed by a day of worry about Wes. She’d been so angry yesterday at his high-handedness, she’d forgotten he was out there, trying to find murderers. Her heart sped up every time she remembered he might be injured or killed. And, despite all his male chauvinism, she missed him.
Missed how his eyes glowed with mirth when he smiled, and how the pupils seem to grow as they turned dark with passion when he bent his head to kiss her. She wanted to feel his strong arms around her again, his hands touching her, stroking her, caressing her skin.
The way her life had been so far, he would probably just up and disappear; let her down like every other man in her life. Marry her, then skip town. She huffed. Probably why he won’t make love to me. He doesn’t want to leave me pregnant.
Could she blame him, though, since he’d been forced into this marriage because of her stupidity?
Any anger she’d felt yesterday faded with the knowledge that she needed Wes. Not to pay for her things, but to bring laughter into her life, to hold her, make her feel like a cared-for woman. There had to be more in his eyes than lust when he looked at her.
It felt like forever instead of only two days. They’d had precious little time together since the pastor’s untimely visit. Suppose he never did come back? A jolt of panic seized her. He could be lying cold dead right now, never to hold her in his arms again, or kiss her with his warm lips.
Feeling stupid with tears standing in her eyes, her gaze swung to the door when Pete Martin entered the café.
“Marshal’s back.”
Chapter Fourteen
Wes dropped his saddlebags on his desk. “How’d things go?”
The deputy leaned back in the chair, lacing his fingers together and cupping the back of his head. “Fine. No problems. How about you? Any luck with them outlaws?”
“None. We tore that town apart, but didn’t turn up a thing. The sheriff is worthless, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was helping them hide.” He rotated his shoulders to ease some of strain. “My wife been in?”
“Yep. Just like you said.”
“Did you give her my note?”
The deputy nodded, offering a slight grin.
With Anna’s ability to attract trouble, he’d been terrified at leaving her alone for however long he’d be away. But with time to think about it after they were on their way, he cringed at what he was sure her reaction would be to how he’d manipulated her. She was such a stubborn woman, bound and determined to shorten his life with her antics.
He spun as the door crashed open. Anna stood there, her chest heaving as if she’d been running. Everything inside him came alive, his entire focus on her. He felt as if a sledgehammer hit his chest, as he took in her hair hanging loosely about her shoulders, her flushed cheeks, and deep brown eyes shimmering with tears. His body hummed with desire, his reaction immediate.
Before he had a chance to move toward her, she flew across the room, and into his arms. He placed his hand on her lower back and cupped her head with his other hand, tucking her against his body. She tightened her arms around him, hugging him fiercely, placing quick kisses on his chest. She smelled like flowers and sunshine, and everything good in his life.
“You bastard!” She shoved at his chest, breaking their connection before pointing her finger at him. “How dare you tell everyone in town they can’t hire me?” She swiped at the two tears tracking down her cheeks.
He couldn’t help the slow smile that tugged at his lips. Anna was all fire and passion. He could almost see the smoke coming from her ears, and feel the thumping of her heart, much like his was doing at the moment. “Now, darlin’, it was for your own good.”
Anna drilled her finger into his chest hard enough to make him wince. “I’ll be the one to decide what is good and not good for me.”
A soft cough reminded him they weren’t alone. Wes covered Anna’s hand with his and held their joined fingers. “Let’s go on home.” He gestured to the deputy. “I’ll be by later to fill out my reports. Your help’s much appreciated.”
The man nodded, his eyes taking in Anna’s flushed face. He offered a sudden grin. “Good luck, marshal.”
Wes grunted and led Anna out the door. She tried several times to tug her hand from his on the short walk to the house, but he held firm. The relief he’d felt when he saw her, and knew she was safe and hadn’t done something risky while he was gone, disturbed him. She was not a forever person in his life. Anna could disappear in a puff of smoke one day, so it was best to get his feelings reined in.
At the same time he’d needed to remind his body to control itself. The touch of her soft skin, her scent, and even the way she stomped alongside him in her fury had the blood coursing through his veins like a rapidly rising river. And that wasn’t the only thing rising. He needed to remember his pledge not to touch her, although he’d already broken that promise before he’d left. If he couldn’t keep his hands off her after only a few hours of marriage, how the hell would he do it for as long as she remained here? Still running the question through his mind, Wes opened the front door and ushered Anna in.
She turned and assessed him coolly, still wiping her wet cheeks. “Do you want something to eat?”
“Did you cook?”
“No.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits when he threw his head back and laughed. “No darlin’, I’m not hungry.”
“Fine. Then let’s have it out.”
“Another of your phrases from the future?”
She dismissed him with a huff. “I will not be dictated to.
” Pacing in a circle, she continued with her tirade. “I will work, and pay for my own things. When you married me, you did not get a housekeeper. I’m lousy at that stuff. Most likely I can learn to cook on that stove, but we need to find a laundry, because I don’t do wash on a scrub board.” She stopped and took a deep breath, then glared at him. “And I hate sewing.”
“Anna.”
“What?” She puffed out air, sending strands of hair dancing across her forehead.
Wes sat and pulled her onto his lap. Most likely a bad idea considering what happened the last time they were in this position.
“I have no idea what your time is like, but I know how things are now.” He placed his index finger on her lips when she opened her mouth to speak. “Let me finish.”
As he spoke, he played with the soft curls gracing her shoulder. “If you insist on getting a job, the town will consider me a failure as a husband.” When she didn’t interrupt, he eased his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. “A man earns the wages, and the woman takes care of the house and children.” He glanced sideways at her, expecting a snide remark about their separate sleeping quarters.
As she stared at him with her deep brown eyes, blood pounded in his ears at her nearness, and he had a difficult time remembering why he wanted them to sleep apart. She shifted on his lap and he swallowed a groan. Without conscious thought, his hand moved up and he skimmed his knuckles over the soft skin of her cheek. Her eyes grew wide at his touch, and she ran a tempting pink tongue over her lips.
“Wes?” She leaned in, her voice low and sultry. “I don’t think I can live like that.” Her warm, sweet breath drifted over him as she slid her palms up his chest to settle on his shoulders.
A Tumble Through Time Page 15
