The Marshal's Ready-Made Family

by Sherri Shackelford

  She glanced around the tidy kitchen, and her chest tightened. Freshly whitewashed cupboards and bead-board trim brightened the room, a perfect backdrop for the wedding gifts lining the shelves. Blue creamware pitchers, plates and opaque glasses stood beside the few brightly colored tins of spices she’d bought from the general store. On the walls, Garrett had hung the copper pots in a line by size. Jo figured that’s why they got along so well. They both enjoyed order and routine.

  He reached for the knife resting on the counter before her, and his arm brushed her shoulder. His hand drifted down and covered her fingers, and the air between them sparked like flint rocks. He reached his other arm around her back and gently crowded her against the counter.

  Tucking his chin in the curve of her shoulder, he said, “You’re cutting the slices too thin. Let me show you.”

  He guided her fingers over the handle of the knife and braced his other hand on the crusty loaf, then directed her motions.

  “That’s as thick as two slices.” She laughed at the enormous cut he’d taken.

  “You have five brothers. Surely you know a man needs more to eat than two thin slices of bread and a slather of jam.”

  Jo inhaled his dizzying scent. As large as the house was, living together beneath the same roof had driven them into closer and closer contact. It seemed inevitable they’d eventually be forced to touch each other.

  He shifted and positioned the knife over the bread again. His skin was dark against hers and his hands coarse from years of labor. She’d never liked her own hands—they were rough and chapped and her nails never grew beyond the tips of her fingers. But next to Garrett’s, they appeared almost delicate.

  She wondered if she turned her head, would he kiss her. Her stomach tightened.

  “Why are you smiling?” he said, his breath tickling her ear.

  Embarrassed by the turn of her thoughts, Jo kept her attention focused on the counter. “What do you think about chickens?”

  His chest rumbled against her back as he chuckled. “You’re full of surprises, Mrs. Cain.”

  Blood rushed in her ears and she felt almost dizzy. She forgot sometimes she had a different name, but she liked the way he spoke it with his gravelly morning voice.

  He carefully sliced another chunk of bread. “I like chickens. I like eggs in the morning. I like barn cats and watchdogs. Any other animals you’d like for your menagerie? How about a goat?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “What do you have against goats?”

  “It’s a long story.” Jo smiled.

  “What about sheep?”

  “Definitely sheep. My pa would be so proud. His family raised sheep for wool back in Ireland.”

  “We’ll knit the whole town sweaters for the winter.”

  “Even Mr. Stuart?”

  “Especially Mr. Stuart. He doesn’t have enough meat on his bones to keep him warm in the winter.”

  Garrett spun her around, pulled her into his embrace, and belted out, “My wild Irish Rose, the sweetest flower that grows,” in a low, pleasant baritone.

  While she giggled, he whirled her through the kitchen in a clumsy waltz. “You may search everywhere, but none can compare with my wild Irish Rose.”

  Giddy with his infectious joy, Jo followed his lead. She’d never seen him behave with such abandon. They crashed into a chair and sprang apart. Smiling, Jo smoothed her hair. “You’re usually so quiet in the morning, and here you are singing and dancing around the kitchen. What’s gotten into you, Mr. Cain?” she said, mirroring the use of his name.

  Appearing flustered, he reached for the overturned chair. “I don’t know what came over me. Must have been all that talk of chickens.”

  He flushed, avoiding her gaze. Her lips tightened. While she’d enjoyed their spontaneous fun, Garrett appeared almost embarrassed by their shared enjoyment. Before she could voice her confusion, she caught sight of Cora at the top of the stairs.

  “Did we wake you with our silliness?” Jo called.

  The door closed behind her and Jo glanced over her shoulder. Garrett had fled. From past experience she knew he’d be quiet for the next few days. She clenched her jaw. If he was ashamed of her, he shouldn’t have married her.

  She recalled his words all those weeks ago—I’m not capable of love.

  He’d lied to her.

  She saw how he behaved with Cora, with his animals. He was more than capable of love. Which begged the question, why couldn’t he love her? Though she’d vowed to let him keep his secrets, she didn’t know how much longer she could take his changeable behavior.

  She caught Cora’s curious gaze. “It’s almost time for your lessons. Why don’t you get dressed.”

  Twenty minutes later Jo knelt before Cora and adjusted her collar. “It was nice of Mrs. Harper to help you with your numbers and letters over the summer. Are you enjoying your lessons?”

  Cora clasped her hands. “I like it here. Maxwell is my best friend. I still miss my old room. I miss my mommy and daddy.”

  “Oh, baby.” Tears pooled in Jo’s eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I like you. I like Uncle Garrett.”

  “I know. You can like us and miss your parents at the same time.”

  The little girl’s brow furrowed. “Grandma said that, too.”

  “Grandma Edith is smart.” Jo held out her hand for their morning walk. “She’d like you to stay overnight tonight.” Her voice lowered. “Just between you and me, I think she’s lonely. With David gone and the other boys spending so much time in the fields, the house is quiet. And Maxwell wants to show you his new dog.”

  The little girl grinned and eagerly nodded. Edith McCoy had fallen hopelessly in love with her new grandchild, and the feeling was obviously mutual. The two enjoyed their time together, and Jo encouraged the interaction. It brought them all together as a family. Cora needed plenty of love, and the McCoys had plenty of love to give.

  Stepping outside, Jo glanced left and right. The street from their house curved right toward Cimarron Springs, and she adjusted her leather hat against the sun. While she’d made certain concessions toward a more feminine wardrobe, she wasn’t giving up her gifted hat. The days were growing longer and hotter, though not intolerable just yet. Thankfully, a wet spring had turned into a stunningly beautiful early summer. The countryside bloomed with wildflowers and the creek bed swelled.

  Garrett had offered to hitch the wagon for her, but she and Cora preferred the walk. By the time they arrived in town, a fine sheen of perspiration covered Jo’s forehead.

  She squeezed Cora’s hand. “Tomorrow let’s take the wagon. It’s getting hotter than baking day.”

  Cora nodded with a grimace.

  Jo left Cora in the teacher’s capable hands, passed the boardinghouse and paused outside the marshal’s office. Garrett felt something for her, she knew he did, and she deserved answers for his behavior. Gathering her courage, she lifted her hand, then paused midknock.

  Bearding a lion in its den was never a good idea. If she confronted him before David, he’d turn defensive. She’d lived her whole life surrounded by men and had discovered a few things along the way.

  She’d let Garrett work. But tonight, with Cora gone, they were going to talk. And this time she’d make certain he couldn’t run away.

  She’d glue him to the chair if need be.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Mary Louise burst into Garrett’s office, her face flushed. “They’re fighting.” She gasped. “And it’s all my fault.”

  “Where?” he responded immediately.

  “Behind the livery.”

  Garrett strapped on his gun and snatched his hat on the way out the back door. If Mary Louise was involved, it had to be the McCoy brothers. He followed the frantic woman to the corral behind
the livery where Caleb and David wrestled in the dirt. Garrett fetched a bucket of water and doused the brawling pair. Coughing and sputtering, they sprang apart.

  “What’d you go and do that for?” Caleb demanded.

  Garrett tossed the pail aside. “You boys were making a mess. You want to tell me what this is all about?”

  He already knew, but the two needed to work things out in the open with words, not fists.

  The brothers exchanged a sullen glance. David broke away first, raking his hands through his hair.

  Caleb glared at his back. “He stole my girl.”

  “She isn’t a horse, son.” Garrett raised an eyebrow. “It’s not like he rustled her from the corral one night.”

  Caleb swiped the wet hair from his eyes. “He stole her just the same. She was sweet on me.”

  “She was being nice,” David said. “That’s how she is.”

  “What do you know? You don’t love her.”

  David’s arm shot out and he grasped a fistful of his brother’s shirt. “That’s not for you to say, is it?”

  Garrett latched his hand around David’s wrist and shook loose his hold. “Fighting isn’t going to solve any of this.” He encompassed the two in his question. “Has the lady made her choice known?”

  Caleb aimed an accusing glare at his brother. “She’s going for a buggy ride with David tomorrow. That don’t mean she’s sweet on him. She’s probably just being nice.” He bitterly drew out the last word.

  David’s face hardened. “You asked her for a buggy ride, too. What did she say?”

  “She was busy.” Caleb’s face reddened. “That’s all. That’s why she couldn’t come.”

  “She didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  The two leaped for each other again, and Garrett held his arms askew between them. “This isn’t going to be solved with a brawl. Why don’t you two cool off.”

  David stalked away, and Garrett studied Caleb. He’d been paying close attention to Mary Louise over the past few weeks, and he was certain she’d chosen David. The two sweethearts were walking on eggshells, afraid of hurting Caleb.

  Garrett swiped the back of his hand across his forehead beneath the brim of his hat. “It’s time you moved on.”

  “How do you know? What has David said? Whatever it is, he’s lying.”

  “It’s not what your brother has said. It’s how Mary Louise looks at him.”

  Caleb’s face caved in defeat. “She just doesn’t know me well enough. If he hadn’t distracted her, we’d be together.”

  A sound caught his attention, and Garrett caught sight of David.

  His battered deputy stepped forward and hung his head. “She’s given me permission to ask her pa if we can court. She’s already made her choice.”

  Garrett caught Caleb’s stricken expression and waved David away. “Why don’t you call it a day? Your brother needs a moment alone.”

  David hesitated for a moment, then dutifully turned away.

  His heart heavy, Garrett propped his forearms on the top railing of the corral fence and stared at the brown earth stirred up by the brothers’ fight.

  He gave Caleb a few minutes with his thoughts before speaking. “There are two truths in life. You can’t keep people from dying, and you can’t make people love you. It’s as simple as that.”

  “But if she spent more time with me, she’d know me better. She could sort out her feelings.” The younger man’s voice broke and he swallowed hard. “He stole her right from under my nose. My own brother. I trusted him and he—”

  Garrett held up his hand. “I’ll say it again. She’s not a piece of chattel you can steal and steal back again. She’s a living breathing person and she can make up her own mind. She has made up her own mind.”

  “Then why didn’t she tell me?”

  “I suspect she didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “But—”

  “Look, I know you’re all torn up, but blaming David won’t change anything.”

  A sheen of tears appeared in Caleb’s eyes. “It’s like someone ripped my heart out, and I’ll never be whole again.”

  Garrett reached out a hand and gripped the younger man’s shoulder. “It feels like that now, but it won’t always. You’re a fine man, and someday you’ll find someone who loves you back. Don’t settle for anything less. A one-sided love is like a poison. It eats away at you from the inside until you’re just a shell.”

  “What does it matter? I already feel like I’m dying inside.”

  “You’ll heal.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just do.”

  Garrett silently questioned his oft-repeated answer. The pain lessened, but did a heart ever truly mend? Or did a person carry around the reminders of the pain like a scar?

  At least with one’s heart, the scars were hidden.

  Garrett caught a glance of the raw pain apparent in Caleb’s mournful eyes.

  Then again, maybe the scars of the heart were the most obvious of all. He wondered if his showed.

  * * *

  Jo sat in the sheriff’s office and held her arm around a sobbing Mary Louise. She awkwardly patted the distraught girl’s shoulder. “They’ve fought before. This isn’t even the worst.”

  “I should have said something sooner.” The blonde heaved in a shaky breath. “I just couldn’t.”

  Garrett slipped through the door and he and Jo exchanged a glance. With a slight nod, she motioned him toward his desk. “I was just telling Mary Louise this isn’t the end of the world.”

  The girl hiccuped. “It feels like it. Everything has gone wrong. Nobody is coming to Daddy’s business anymore. Everyone whispers behind his back. They’re calling him a murderer. Now the boys are fighting over me.”

  Garrett spread his hands along the table. “I’m doing what I can to find the killer. Hopefully, we’ll have this case solved soon.”

  “I don’t know what to do.” Mary Louise blew her nose with noisy abandon into her lace-edged handkerchief. “It’s even worse now that Daddy tried to buy all of Mr. Hodges’s old stock at a discount. Everyone thinks badly of us.”

  Jo glanced at the sobbing girl. For such a beauty, she certainly didn’t cry pretty. Her face had gone all blotchy and her frown disappeared into her chin.

  Feeling like a first-rate heel for her uncharitable thoughts, Jo patted Mary Louise’s hand. “Garrett will get to the bottom of what happened, won’t you? Something will work out. Something always does.”

  “I hope so. Pa won’t even talk about David, and I’ll simply die if we can’t get married. I love him so much.”

  Jo rolled her eyes. “You won’t die.”

  The sobbing girl sprang to her feet and glared. “How do you know? You’ve never been in love. Everyone knows you two only got married because you had to!”

  Jo sprang upright. “I know you’re upset, but there’s no need to be rude.”

  “You don’t know what it’s like. You’ve never even been courted!”

  Mary Louise flounced out of the room and slammed the door, leaving them in stunned silence.

  Garrett half rose from his seat, and Jo waved him down. “Let her go. She’s young and in love.”

  Garrett fisted his hand on the desk. “That’s no excuse for her behavior.”

  “It’s all right.” Jo stood and grasped the door handle. Her lungs squeezed and she desperately needed fresh air. “I’ll see you at supper.”

  “Jo,” he called.

  She ignored him, scurrying along the boardwalk, her eyes burning. What did she know? Maybe Mary Louise would die if she and David couldn’t be together. If not being in love hurt this much, Jo didn’t want to know what the true emotion felt like.
>
  * * *

  A week after Jo’s brothers’ epic battle in the livery corral, Beatrice passed her deciphered message across the table and chewed on the end of her pencil while Jo reviewed her work.

  Carefully checking each letter, Jo circled part of the translation. “You’re still mixing up the c and the y.”

  Beatrice groaned as she accepted the corrected sheet. “I thought I got it right.”

  “Everyone gets those two letters mixed up at first. You’ll get it. It just takes practice.”

  “I suppose.”

  Jo gave her hand an encouraging squeeze. “Don’t worry. I was overwhelmed at first, too.”

  “Speaking of overwhelming.” Beatrice perked up at the change of subject. “How is married life?”

  “Well...” Jo carefully measured her answer. “Different than I thought.”

  “Different good or different bad?”

  The office door swung open, interrupting her answer.

  Mr. Sundberg doffed his hat and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “It’s the missus. She’s in labor, ja. Mrs. McCoy needs Jo.”

  The Sundbergs lived on a homestead just north of town. They’d emigrated five years ago, and Mrs. Sundberg pined for a baby. She’d lost three already, and Jo and her ma feared she’d never deliver a healthy child.

  Dreading the answer, Jo spoke. “Where’s the doc’s wife? I thought she was helping out.”

  “Can’t find her, ja. Must help. You.”

  A refusal balanced on the tip of Jo’s tongue, but her ma wouldn’t have called on her unless it was an emergency. “Bea, can you close up the office?”

  “I’ll take care of it,” the older woman answered immediately.

  Jo snatched a few belongings and followed the harried man outside to his wagon. The two-mile trip passed in strained silence. By the time Jo reached Mrs. Sundberg’s bedside, the woman’s brilliant blond hair hung damp around her face. She moaned and rolled her head from side to side on the pillow. She clutched her distended belly and grimaced.

  Sensing the gravity of the situation, Jo snatched a rag from the bowl on the side table and made quick work of washing her hands. Mopping her damp forehead, Jo caught her ma’s gaze. Edith gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head.