The Marshal Meets His Match

by Clari Dees

  Her. Meri McIsaac. The I’d-rather-be-riding-the-range-than-going-to-a-party spinster was being escorted to the spring picnic by the most eligible bachelor in town. She could hear the catty tongues now. They’d say he felt sorry for her or something along those lines.

  Maybe he did feel sorry for her, or maybe he still wasn’t sure she and Faither were merely victims of the bank robbery. Maybe he was trying to get close enough to find out if they were somehow more deeply involved.

  He definitely had you close enough when you were on his lap!

  Heat flooded her face as she remembered the feel of his arms around her. She hadn’t wanted to leave them, and that realization had made her desperate to get out of them. Besides, why would she want to be held by someone she wasn’t even sure liked her; someone who only did it to prove a point? She had to get her unruly emotions under control. When she’d let them peek out after they’d helped the foaling mare, he’d backed off as if she’d stuck a gun in his face.

  “I’ve heard one of the highlights of the picnic is the dessert auction. What’s it all about?”

  Meri grabbed the distraction from her disconcerting thoughts. “The women bake special desserts, and the highest bidder gets to enjoy it with the lady who made it. The proceeds go to something the church or school needs. Originally the women were supposed to keep their dessert a secret, and the buyer found out only after he’d purchased the dessert. But we’ve been doing it so long that everyone pretty much knows who made what before the meal is even served.”

  “Did you make a dessert for the auction?”

  There was no way she was answering that question truthfully. “I didn’t even know I was coming until yesterday, and I rode in on horseback, in case you forgot, not a good way to carry a dessert.”

  “That was an evasive answer. A simple yes or no would have sufficed.”

  “You have a very suspicious nature, Mars…sir.”

  “Hazards of the profession, Mac…ma’am.”

  The man was as dogged as she was. She bit back an unexpected grin as she looked up at him. Her gaze tangled with his, and she caught her breath as his laughing hazel-green eyes sobered and darkened. Meri ducked her head and concentrated on something safer. Like breathing.

  Reaching the picnic grounds behind the church building, they paused to survey the scene before them. Women in brightly colored frocks mingled around tables covered in various sizes of dishes, and the sounds of cheery chatter filled the air as they assembled the upcoming meal. Deeper voices and more muted clothing identified the male portion of the gathering, and happy shrieks marked children busily at play.

  “There’s Marshal Cameron, now,” a high-pitched voice squealed.

  Meri jerked her hand away from Wyatt’s arm as a group of young women headed toward them, maneuvering for Wyatt’s attention. She gave ground as the women talked over each other, giving broad hints regarding the choicest dessert on which to bid. The fluttering eyelashes and simpering voices were enough to give her a headache. Retreating from the field without firing a shot, she left the victors to their spoil.

  She spent the next hour helping with setup and food preparation as families continued to arrive and contribute their food dishes, but Meri unconsciously kept track of Wyatt as he moved around the picnic grounds. Sometimes he was talking with a group of men; sometimes a young lady and her mother would be smiling and chatting with him. Finally the women called Pastor Willis over to ask the blessing on the food, and afterward, Meri busily dished up food for little ones or those with full hands.

  Ms. Maggie tried to shoo her away several times, but she stubbornly continued serving. When the last straggler headed for a place to sit, she filled her own plate and planted herself next to Ms. Maggie. She took a long-awaited drink of cool, tart lemonade.

  “Mind if I share your blanket?”

  Her head snapped up to see Wyatt holding a plate full of food. She’d thought he would have finished eating already. There had certainly been plenty of invitations for him to join certain picnic blankets. Not that she’d counted.

  “Go right ahead, young man.” Ms. Maggie grinned.

  The blanket had seemed roomy until he sprawled his large frame across one side. Now it felt entirely too small. Meri watched him attack his food while she picked at her own, appetite lost in a stomach full of busy butterflies.

  “The ladies of Little Creek have certainly outdone themselves today.” Wyatt wiped his mouth in satisfaction.

  Meri noted he had the manners to use one of the cloth napkins Ms. Maggie had provided instead of his sleeve, unlike some of the other men on nearby blankets.

  “So you came west from Virginia?” Ms. Maggie asked.

  “That’s where I grew up, yes. My parents are gone now, but my brother and three sisters still live there. They’re all married, and my brother lives on the home place.”

  “You don’t plan on going back?” Meri asked, mangling a piece of chicken with her fork.

  “Not to live. I’ve been out West too long. It’s my home now.”

  “What was it like growing up in Virginia?” Ms. Maggie set her empty plate aside.

  Meri nibbled on her food and watched Wyatt’s face light up as he answered Ms. Maggie’s question and regaled them with stories of growing up in the wilds of Virginia with his Cherokee cousins.

  “I learned to read the woods before I learned to read. In fact, I didn’t want to learn to read at all, told Ma I’d never need it.” He chuckled ruefully. “She sure reminded me of that when I was taking the exams to enter West Point, but she’d made sure I had a sound education, and it stood me in good stead. After graduating West Point, I was shipped west as a shavetail second lieutenant.”

  Meri voiced a question she’d been wondering about. “Why did you leave the army?”

  For a second she wondered if he was going to answer, but then he took a deep breath and began, “I got word about two years ago that my father was gravely ill, and I obtained a leave of absence to go home. He rallied for a few weeks after I arrived, and we had a wonderful visit, but it didn’t last long enough. He started failing again, and within a month of my arrival, he slipped away in the night.” His voice grew rough. “Mother took it so hard.” He paused to clear his throat. “I resigned my commission so I could stay with her. I thought if I was home for good and she had all her children back around her she’d eventually come through the grief.”

  He slowly shook his head. “We didn’t realize how deeply she felt the loss of her other half. Cy and Hanna Cameron were two sides of one coin, and she just lost the will to go on without him. Within a year of Father’s death, we buried Mother beside him. My oldest brother had the family farm well in hand, and after all these years of working it and staying by the stuff, he deserves it. My sisters are all married and live nearby, but I just didn’t feel like it was home after Ma passed. I started itching to be back out West but didn’t have a desire to return to the army, so I said my goodbyes and started drifting. I was down in Texas working as a deputy when I heard about Little Creek looking for a marshal. The sheriff down there was kind enough to send a recommendation, and here I am.”

  Meri was stunned. He’d recounted his tale so calmly, it had taken a moment for her to grasp the fact he’d recently lost both of his parents. He knew better than she the pain of loss.

  She was on the verge of apologizing for bringing up sad memories when Mr. Hubert’s voice rang out across the picnic grounds. “Graaaab your partners, and let the games begin.” The town barber loved being the master of ceremonies and brought a certain flair to the festivities.

  Wyatt sprang to his feet, pulling her up with him. “Let’s go. I signed us up as partners in the three-legged race.”

  “Uh-uh.” She shook her head and dug in her heels, but she was no match against his gentle, persuasive strength. “We’re going to fall flat on our faces.”

  Ms. Maggie made a shooing motion with her hand. “Oh, go on. Have some fun.”

  Wyatt tugged her, pro
testing, toward the gathering competitors. “I think you’ll be surprised what we can do if you’ll work with me instead of against me.”

  “I’d rather not,” she blurted, heart racing.

  “Scared?” he challenged.

  Meri glared at him. She was, but she’d never admit it. “Okay, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Reaching the starting line, Wyatt took one of the long strips of cloth the barber handed out to contestants. “Tell you what. If we win this race, I won’t call you Mac any more—”

  “Deal!”

  “—today.” The impish smirk reappeared on his face.

  “You can’t change the rules just like that.”

  “I didn’t change the rules, you interrupted before I finished.” Wyatt knelt beside her and tied their booted ankles together, her right to his left, leaving the holstered pistol on his right hip free of obstruction.

  She was immediately grateful for the shorter riding skirt instead of a frilly dress as he looped the cloth around her ankle. “Has anyone ever told you how vexing you are?” She shouldn’t be able to feel his touch tingle through her leather boot.

  Wyatt looked up at her. “I think you just did.”

  Standing, he wrapped his arm around her waist, and Meri tried to hide the shiver that ran down her spine. Why did a simple touch from him cause her to react like a wild horse, flinching and shying at the slightest thing?

  “Are you cold?”

  Apparently she hadn’t been successful. “No.”

  “Have you ever done this before?”

  “It’s a little late to be askin’ that.” Her insides might be a quivering mass, but her tongue apparently still worked.

  The children’s portion of the race ended, and Billy and Danny ran up to Meri, blue ribbons fluttering from their hands. “Thanks for tellin’ us to practice, Miss Meri. We won!”

  “Good for you.” The boys ran on almost before Meri got the words out.

  “All right, ladies and gents. Line up. Let’s see if you can do as good as those youngsters.”

  It took a second to figure out which foot should move first, and she stumbled, but Wyatt’s arm around her waist kept her upright.

  “If you’ll wrap your arm around my waist, I think you’ll find it a tad easier,” Wyatt instructed casually. As if his arm around her waist was the most natural thing in the world.

  Meri tentatively complied, trying to ignore the feeling of his broad back against her arm. Other young ladies seemed to have no qualms about wrapping their arms about their partners, and apparently it wasn’t a big deal to anyone except her. Well, if those giggling females could do it, then Meri McIsaac should certainly be able to do it. She concentrated on her feet as they stumble-hopped toward the starting line.

  “Con…tes…tants! At the sound of the bell, make your way to the big oak down by the creek, circle the tree and head back to the finish line. If you fall, you’re disqualified. First team across the line wins the blue ribbon. On your mark…”

  “This is gonna hurt,” Meri muttered under her breath.

  “Get set…”

  “Have a little faith, and remember, start with your right foot.”

  The bell rang, and all the teams shuffled, hopped and tripped their way toward the oak tree as fast as three legs could carry them. The field of contestants was swiftly whittled down as couples lost their balance and fell, laughing good-naturedly. Meri nearly followed their example several times, but Wyatt’s strong arm kept her safe.

  “Work with me,” he whispered near her ear each time she stumbled.

  She was having more than a little trouble concentrating on anything but the distracting sensations caused by his arm around her waist, but eventually they were circling the oak tree and heading back the way they’d come. Meri looked up to see there were only two teams ahead of them.

  “Stay with me, Mac, we’re almost home free.”

  As he spoke, a young man and his pretty partner fell and landed in front of them. Meri braced herself for the inevitable tumble, but Wyatt pulled her up short, and they sidestepped the fallen, laughing couple. Reaching clear ground again, Meri caught the exhilaration of the competition and the rhythm of the race, and a giggle bubbled up.

  “You ready to make a run for it? I think we can catch them.”

  “Let’s do it!” She tightened her arm around his trim, muscled waist.

  She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth, for Wyatt surged headlong, and Meri realized how much longer his legs were. He’d been holding back, and now she struggled to match his longer stride and faster pace.

  The onlookers were cheering on their favorites, yelling out encouragements as Meri and Wyatt gained on the last team. She felt his arm tighten, and he lifted her slightly. Her feet were barely touching the ground. She might look like she was helping, but he was doing all the work himself.

  She wasn’t going to complain because his move paid off. They swept across the finish line, mere inches ahead of the other team, to the cheers and applause of the picnickers.

  Meri untangled her arm, leaning over to catch her breath from the last mad dash. “You did it,” she panted happily, reaching to untie the scrap of cloth that bound their ankles.

  “We did it.”

  “Congratulations on a race well run.” Mr. Hubert thrust a scrap of blue silk at them before hurrying to announce the next contest.

  Wyatt handed the ribbon to Meri. “I told you we could do it if you worked with me.”

  “And since we won, you have a deal to keep.” She cocked her head and grinned triumphantly.

  “I’m a man of my word. I won’t call you Mac again. Today.” He placed his hand over his heart.

  “Laaaadies and gentlemen! The potato-sack race!” Mr. Hubert’s voice boomed again.

  “Come on.” Wyatt grabbed her hand. “I signed us up for this.”

  Meri noticed a few females shooting daggers at her, and others that had their heads together whispering as they watched. She was the subject of gossip once more. “You go ahead, I’ll watch from the sidelines.” And fade back into the woodwork.

  “But I was the ‘Champeen’ potato-sack racer of my county,” Wyatt pleaded boyishly.

  “Then by all means, go. Have fun.” Why did her mouth say one thing when she really wanted something else?

  “I see.” He shook his head morosely. “You’re afraid to be beaten by a Virginia boy.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Meri growled. Let the biddies talk. They always did, anyway. No matter what she did or didn’t do.

  She stalked over to the pile of potato sacks, grabbed one and marched to the starting line, Wyatt beside her all the way. She stepped into the sack and pulled it up around her waist. “It’s time to put up or shut up, Marshal.” Meri watched him start to speak and cut him off, grinning. “And you can’t call me Mac, remember?”

  The starting bell sounded, and Meri gripped the top of the rough burlap, hopping frantically in the direction of the finish line.

  Don’t fall. Don’t fall. Don’t fall! The words accompanied the beat of her frenzied jumps.

  Wyatt’s long legs carried him past her, but Meri kept hopping, trying to avoid those that fell and took others down with them.

  The finish line grew closer. Wyatt was hot on the heels of the young man in the lead, and Meri was behind Wyatt. She would have laughed at the sight of the marshal leaping like a gigantic jackrabbit, but she needed all her breath to catch up.

  Suddenly the young man slipped and went down right across Wyatt’s path. This time Wyatt was unable to avoid the fallen contestant and toppled to the ground over the poor fellow. Meri hopped as swiftly as she could, crossing the finish line a mere breath ahead of the remaining contestants.

  A familiar arm snaked around her shoulders as she accepted her ribbon, and Wyatt pulled her into quick side hug. “I knew you could do it.” Wyatt’s flushed face beamed at her as he released her.

  “Champeen potato-sack racer, huh?
” Meri felt another giggle bubble up. Good grief. She sounded like those silly females earlier.

  He shrugged, unperturbed. “Did I mention I was only ten at the time?”

  “Laaaadies and gentlemen! The egg race!”

  Wyatt grabbed Meri’s hand and led her to a table holding spoons and eggs.

  “Don’t tell me. You signed us up for that one, too,” Meri groaned dramatically.

  “Yep.”

  “I don’t want egg on me.” A protesting laugh accompanied the words.

  “O ye of little faith. They’re hard-boiled.”

  Mr. Hubert explained the rules and handed each team a spoon and an egg. “This is a relay race. The team that crosses the finish line first without dropping their egg will win the blue ribbon. There are several flags between the starting line and the finish line. One team member will go to the first flag. When the bell sounds the team member at the starting line will place the spoon in their mouth and their egg on the spoon. They will then carry the egg to their partner at the first flag and pass the egg to them, without dropping it and without using their hands. The new egg holder will head to the next flag, where their partner will meet them to pass the egg off again. And so on and so forth until they reach the finish line. First team across with an undamaged egg still on the spoon wins. Drop the egg, and you’re disqualified. Touch the egg with your hands, and you’re disqualified. Take your places!”

  Wyatt thrust the egg at Meri and jogged to the first flag. Accepting the inevitable, Meri put the spoon between her teeth and laid the egg in the bowl of it. When the bell sounded she carefully made her way toward Wyatt. She reached him with little trouble, and by concentrating on the spoons instead of the nearness of his face, she was able to exchange the egg smoothly. Racing to the next flag, she watched as Wyatt carried the egg toward her on the next leg of the relay. He moved quickly, but the journey and the exchange again went smoothly.

  This was easier than she’d thought it would be! She set off for the next flag, balancing the egg easily and moving quicker. Just as she reached Wyatt, her toe connected painfully with a rock hidden in the grass. She pitched forward.