The Marshal's Ready-Made Family. Sherri Shackelford

The Marshal's Ready-Made Family - Sherri Shackelford


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judge?”

      He scowled. “That’s funny, runt, cuz you look the same as always. You get dressed in a barn this morning?”

      Chuckling, he snatched the hat from her head, then reared back and cocked his arm in order to toss it onto the dirt-packed street. The next instant, Bert staggered into the marshal. Unsure what had knocked him sideways, Jo leaped back. The two men slammed into the jailhouse wall. Bert yelped and collapsed onto his knees. Marshal Cain bent, hooking his right hand beneath the man’s shoulder, and hauled him upright. The marshal whispered something in Bert’s ear before shoving him forward.

      With a grumble, Bert circled his right shoulder and rubbed his biceps with his left hand.

      The marshal crossed his arms and cleared his throat.

      Leaning down, Bert plucked her hat from the boardwalk and dusted the brim against his thigh before returning it. “I was just checking on Tom. Heard you locked him up again.”

      The marshal braced his legs apart. “Tom’s responsible for his own actions. You can pick him up before supper. He should be sober by then.”

      “It’s nobody’s business what a man does on his own time.”

      “Tom makes it my business when he goes smashing up property.”

      Bert tossed a glare over his shoulder as he beat a hasty exit.

      Jo replaced her hat and frowned at Bert’s retreating back. “That was odd. He usually doesn’t back down that quick.”

      Marshal Cain shrugged, his expression deceptively neutral. “Seems like Bert’s got a grudge against both of us.”

      “We’ve been feuding since the eighth grade.” Jo snorted. “Since I gave Tom a shiner. The Walbys are too afraid of my brothers to settle the score outright, but whenever Tom or Bert sees me alone... You get the idea.”

      “I do.” A muscle ticked along the marshal’s jaw.

      Cora skipped between them with her doll. Miss Lily sported a red coat trimmed in navy blue rickrack.

      Garrett yanked open the café door, clanging the bell suspended above them, his attention focused on the street. His gaze settled on the spot where Bert had taken up vigil near the jailhouse. Garrett looked between the two of them, and his eyes narrowed. Jo’s shoulders sagged. So much for flirting with the marshal. Now he’d see her like everyone else in town did—a rebel who scrapped with the boys.

      She set her jaw. It was best not to pine for something she’d never have. Over the years she’d grown wiser, more protective of her emotions. Loosening her resolve was a road paved with disaster.

      It was best if Garrett thought of her as a buddy, because a friend couldn’t break her heart.

      * * *

      The café bustled with activity. Plates clanked together and the low hum of voices surrounded them. The succulent aroma of fried chicken filled the air. Garrett pulled out a chair for Cora and Jo in turn, then caught the curious glance of a middle-aged woman in a burgundy bustled dress.

      He touched his forehead in greeting and leaned nearer Jo’s ear. “Is it all right? You and I eating together. I don’t want any gossip.”

      Jo rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about it. We’re fine.”

      For an instant he thought he saw a flash of disappointment. The moment passed so quickly, he shook off the odd feeling. Why would Jo want people gossiping about them?

      Starched white cloths draped the wooden tables, and mismatched china covered the surface. The decor was a curious blend of faded elegance and homespun crafts. In the center of the table, a pint-size milk jug tinted a clear shade of blue-green held a posy of coneflowers.

      Garrett kicked back in his chair and studied his surroundings. Most of the people in town were familiar by now, and they’d moved passed their initial wariness. A few gentlemen nodded in his direction, and Mrs. Schlautman flashed him a smile.

      Jo rested her menu on the table. “How’d you end up here, anyway?”

      He couldn’t hold back a grin. “You sure are direct.”

      “Is that bad?”

      “No, no. I like it.” Too much.

      Garrett planted his elbows on the table and fisted his hands. “I was bored. I needed a challenge. When I heard what I was up against, what the previous sheriff had let go on around here, I knew this was the perfect job for me.”

      “Will you stay? After you’re done cleaning up the town and all?”

      “Hadn’t planned on it.” His gaze slid toward Cora. “But things have changed.”

      Their waitress bustled past and took their orders, momentarily interrupting his troubled thoughts. Jo and the woman exchanged a few pleasantries, their friendship obvious by their banter. The woman returned a moment later with a pencil and paper, and Cora happily accepted the distracting items.

      Garrett scratched his head. “I never even thought of that.”

      “You’re new to all this. You’ll learn.” Jo pressed her thumb against the tines of her fork. “Do you have any other family? Someone who could help out for a bit?”

      “Just a cousin and his wife.” Garrett glanced away. “They won’t be much help.”

      “I thought you said you didn’t have any family.”

      “None that claim me.” He ducked his head. “I guess that’s different than no kin at all.”

      There was no love lost between him and Edward. For a time after his parents’ deaths, Garrett had stayed with Edward’s family. They’d been mortified by the scandal, and resentful of the added burden of two extra children. Especially Garrett, who bore a striking resemblance to his father.

      He shook his head. “It must seem strange to you.”

      “I’ve never wanted for brothers, that’s for certain.” Jo drummed her fingers on the table. “Is your cousin a lawman, too?”

      “Nope. He owns a sawmill back East. My father was a doctor. I’m the only one who went West.”

      “I guess that explains your parents’ deaths.”

      His heart stuttered and stalled. “Explains what?”

      “You know, the smallpox. Doctors get exposed to all that kind of stuff all the time.”

      His blood gradually resumed pumping again, moving sluggishly through his frozen veins.

      “Of course,” he replied.

      These people respected him, gave him their trust. What would they do if they knew of his past? A lawman, the son of a murderer. They’d run him out of town on a rail. If he and Cora settled here, he’d have to guard the secret with even greater care. He wasn’t alone anymore.

      Garrett braced his left palm on the table and his right one against his chest.

      Jo leaned forward, a crease between her delicately arched brows. “Are you all right? You don’t look so good.”

      “Fine.”

      Avoiding her penetrating gaze, he glanced instead at her fingers. They were long and tapered, the nails blunt and neatly rounded. A smudge of ink darkened the tip of her index finger.

      He turned from the distraction. Cora scribbled away, her head bent in concentration. Noting his interest, she lifted her paper and proudly displayed her picture. Even with her rudimentary skills, Garrett recognized his sister and her husband on either side of Cora, their hands linked together.

      Cora’s lower lip trembled. “Look. I made my family.”

      His throat tight, Garrett knelt before her and pulled her into his embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck and a single sob shook her delicate body.


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