Marrying Miss Marshal (23 page)

T
he timid knock came soon after Danna had descended from her rooms to the jail, leaving a sleeping Katy upstairs. Braced to face her husband, Danna was surprised when the door swung open to admit several women.

“Well…good morning, Mrs. Kendrick. Mrs. Stoll, how are you? And Anna! What are you doing in town so early?”

“It's Martha, dear.”

“Marianne.”

Several more women crowded into the jail behind the others, although all of them stayed a careful distance away from the cells and the rough-looking outlaws within.

“What—what are you all doing here?”

“We brought you some breakfast.” One of the women held up a cloth-covered basket.

“And jam.” Someone else pressed two jars of ruby-red preserves into Danna's hands.

Their smiles surrounded her, warming her. But… “Why?”

Martha Stoll stepped forward. “Young lady, I know I've complained about your dog, but you've done a fine job as marshal, and you should know it.”

“We want to thank you, Marshal,” came a voice from the back. “For sticking with the job, even when our men weren't a bit of help to you.”

“Umm…” Danna didn't know what to say. This was unexpected—she'd thought the women had never liked her, but this outpouring of goodwill said just the opposite.

A second soft knock came and the door opened to reveal Corrine, who froze in the open portal, a bundle of baby in her arms. The women closest to her turned their heads away; one even went so far as to sniff and put her nose in the air.

“Oh,” Corrine said quietly, her eyes widening and a flush creeping into her cheeks. “I'll go—”

“Corrine!” Danna moved through the throng of women and grasped her friend's forearm, pulling her aside. “I was going to come see you this morning. I found out—you'll never believe it, but Brent was working with Fred on the rustler case. Actually, Chas found out. It was all in the journal.”

A whisper rustled through the women, Danna winced. She had kept her voice down when sharing Corrine's private news, but maybe it was best that they'd all heard. She couldn't bear for her friend to be slighted, when her husband had actually done something good for a change.

Corrine's eyes filled with tears. “Was?”

Putting an arm around her friend's shoulders, Danna led her to the desk chair. “Yes. I'm so sorry, Corrine. The kid—one of the outlaws—told us he'd been killed.
Helping Fred. Two of my new deputies went out to recover his body early this morning.”

Corrine began to sniffle, but not the sobs Danna had expected when she planned to give her friend the news of Brent's death. A hand pushed a lacy handkerchief at Corrine and she accepted it without looking up.

“Honey.” A buttercup-yellow skirt swished around Danna's desk, and Mrs. Burnett, the preacher's wife, put a comforting arm around Corrine's shoulder. “That man tried his best for you. He really did.” Danna wasn't so sure about that, but the other woman was still talking. “You should be proud he died helping Marshal Fred.”

Corrine nodded, still pressing the handkerchief to her eyes with one hand, while cradling the baby with the other. Suddenly she looked up with her teary eyes, right at Danna. “Danna—I forgot! I came in here to tell you that I saw your deputy—er—your husband at the train station, buying a ticket.”

Danna's face flamed. “We're not—not really married. It was all a show for the town council. We're getting an annulment.”

“But you love him, don't you?” one of the women— Danna thought it was Marianne—asked.

“Yes,” she said, because she couldn't deny it anymore. Not to herself or anyone else.

“Then you should fight for him,” Corrine put in, her hand on Danna's arm. “Do whatever you have to—make him want to stay married to you.”

Danna looked around at the expectant faces around her. She took a deep breath. “I'm going to need your help.”

“All of us?”

“All of you.”

 

Shaking with nerves, the skirts of her mama's blue dress swirling around her feet, Danna made her way down the boardwalk.

She felt foolish with this dress on, and her hair put up, as if she were attending a fancy ball. Was it too late to run back to her room above the jail?

“Miss Marshal, Miss Marshal!” Young Cody Billings ran up to her on the boardwalk, waving both arms. “Them depities brought back those dirty council members. They're comin' to th' jail now.”

She moved down the street to meet them, grateful for any reprieve from having to face Chas like this. She wanted to convince him to stay in Calvin, and trying to be feminine had seemed like a good idea, until she'd seen the stranger in the looking glass. But with a roomful of expectant women behind her, she couldn't back out of the plan.

Now, walking down the boardwalk, she was getting lots of stares.

The lead deputy reined in his horse, eyes wide as if he didn't recognize her. He tipped his hat to her, then seemed to change his mind and took it off. “M-Miss Marshal. We got 'em.” He waved to Shipley and Parrott, riding with bound hands between two other deputies.

“Good job. I've taken to carrying the jail keys with me, but I'll turn it over to you for a bit.” She took a deep breath. “I have to go over to the train station and settle some business.”

She'd stepped around his horse and was headed across the street, when Shipley dropped down and his bound hands came around her in a chokehold.

They scrabbled as she tried to break free, but with
the element of surprise, his wrists were already around her neck, cutting off her air.

The deputies jumped from their horses, pistols coming out, but she couldn't breathe.

Danna swung her elbow back, catching Shipley in the midsection. She heard the distinct sound of fabric ripping.

 

Chas's heart raced as he hopped off the train station platform and headed toward the jail and a much-needed talk with his wife.

He stopped a moment to breathe deeply of the crisp Wyoming air. He did love it here.

Loved the weathered buildings. The bustling activity on the streets. Even the crooked boardwalk that took him over to the jailhouse. Except, there
was
something different about Calvin since he'd headed into the mountains yesterday. There was a peace in the air, a sense that the town was safe, wholesome.

He was halfway to the jail when he came upon the scuffle. And a woman in a pretty blue gown was right in the middle of it. Danna!

He moved to help, not surprised she was holding her own in a struggle against the larger man, even wearing a dress.

Before Chas reached the melee, the one remaining man on horseback—Parrott—pulled something from his boot.

A derringer. The man had a gun and was using his rope-bound hands to point it straight at Danna.

This time Chas didn't freeze. He reacted, drawing and firing his pistol before he even blinked.

Parrott screamed in anger as Chas's bullet struck his hands. His weapon dropped to the ground harmlessly.

Chas approached on shaking legs to find Danna with one pretty knee in Shipley's back.

“Why?” she asked, still panting from exertion. “Why did you do all this? Have Fred killed? Did you hate us so much?”

The man beneath her remained silent.

“You've ruined it all,” Parrott spat, as one of the other deputies took him roughly off his horse. “Your husband was eliminated because he started asking too many nosy questions. You were only appointed because you weren't supposed to figure any of it out.”

Danna flinched, and Chas moved to her side, taking her arm when one of the deputies hauled Shipley to his feet. The man looked beaten, defeated.

“But, I don't understand…”

“We had a plan,” Shipley said, voice nearly a monotone.

“Shipley…” Parrott warned. “Don't say another word.”

“Parrott thought he could run many of the smaller ranchers out of the area if they lost enough cattle. He brought in a gang and had a few unsavory cowhands of his own.”

“Shipley!” Parrott lunged for his fellow town council member, but the deputy who had hold of his arm was made of muscle and wouldn't be moved.

“C'mon, you. Let's go get Doc to patch up your hands, and then you're going to jail with the rest of 'em.”

The other man continued as if Parrott hadn't spoken at all, staring off into the distance. “It was unfortunate that Marshal Fred and Brent Jackson had to die,
but they started asking questions of the wrong people. They got too close to our operation.

“With O'Rourke on our side, we planned to start extorting money from the businesses in town. We've heard of other…
businessmen
making good money that way.

“The only problem was Castlerock. He may be a selfish lout, but he's arrow straight.”

“So you set up the robbery, thinking his bank would fold if the money was never recovered,” Danna whispered. Chas noticed she was shaking.

“It would've been best if he'd left town, yes.”

Chas couldn't believe the man spoke so calmly of the criminal enterprise they had masterminded.

“And the payoffs?” Chas asked. “So the men wouldn't help Danna?”

“At first no one wanted to work with a woman. They were glad to take the money. After that, we could threaten to reveal they'd been bribed—ruin their standing in town—and that's how we kept them quiet.”

“Marshal, I'm going to take him in now.” The deputy stepped forward

“See if he'll write out his testimony first,” she murmured. “For the judge when he gets to town.”

With the mess sorted, Chas took Danna's arm and swung her up onto the boardwalk and out of the dusty street.

She looked up at him, her dark eyes questioning. She was something else, with her dark curls falling out of the updo they'd been pinned into, dirt smudged across her chin, one sleeve missing and a rip in the hem of her gown. He'd never seen anything so beautiful.

He wanted to sweep her up in his arms, but he wasn't sure about his welcome.

“Hello,” he said instead. “I was coming to talk to you.”

Danna looked down at herself, and when she looked up again he could see the distress on her face.

Was she still upset about the crooked town council members? Personally, Chas was relieved to know the motivation behind the men's actions, outrageous as it was.

“You all right?” he asked, wondering if she was shaken up. “He didn't hurt you, did he?”

“No, that's not it,” she said, shaking her head.

With a tiny sigh, she tried to smooth away the wrinkles and dirt from her skirt. Then she seemed to realize her sleeve was torn, and her hand fisted. “I guess I'm just not meant to be a lady.”

Her words confused him, and so did the sudden tears that sprang to her eyes.

She looked down again, fingered her dusty skirt.

“I had this grand plan,” she whispered, “to show you I could be a lady as fine as your friends back in Boston. I put on this dress, let them put perfume on me—”

“You do smell nice.”

“—I let Marianne Kendrick do my hair,” her voice turned into a wail, as she reached up and realized her hair was falling down around her ears. “And Merritt Harding promised she'd teach me to read. I thought I could
impress
you.”

“You did all that for me?”

“Yes.” She swallowed hard, and for a moment he was afraid she might start crying. “Only…”

“Only, you had to do your job,” he said, busting with pride.

Tired of looking at the crown of her head, he chucked her on the chin, waited until her luminous
eyes met his gaze. “I won't complain if you want to wear a dress, but I like you fine in your trousers and vest.”

Murmurs from nearby interrupted everything else he wanted to say. He looked around to find several townspeople on the streets, watching his interaction with Danna and not bothering to hide their curiosity.

“Can we talk?”

She nodded. “Katy went home with Corrine for the day, to help her take care of Ellie, so the room should be empty for now.”

He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm so he could escort her home.
Home
. He liked the sound of that.

And he was dying to kiss her, but he didn't want to do it in front of the whole town.

She was unusually quiet, until they rounded the staircase leading up to the marshal's private room. She hopped up on the first step and whirled to face him, pressing both palms against his chest to halt his progress. “Are you leaving town or not?”

They were out of sight of the main thoroughfare, so he did what he'd wanted to do since he'd caught sight of her on the street…

The extra height of that first stair put her face a few inches above him, but it was easy enough to grab her waist and draw her in for a kiss. A sweet, deep kiss, to tell her everything he wanted to say—and that he
wasn't
leaving.

And from the way she kissed him back, it sure seemed like she returned his sentiments.

With a last, lingering touch of his lips, he joined her on that first step and pressed her close, her cheek
against his shoulder. “I'm not leaving,” he said, voice husky.

“Hmm,” she hummed, seemingly content to stay resting against him. He couldn't get enough of having her close like this.

Then, abruptly, she pushed away from him, eyes a little wild.

She took a step backward, moving up another step. Putting distance between them. His hands felt empty, so he braced them on both sides of the stair railing. Plus, that blocked her from brushing past him, as well.

“But you were at the train depot—Corrine saw you at the ticket window.”

He groaned. “Are there really no secrets in this town?”

Danna crossed her arms in front of her chest, as if she was protecting herself. From him? She looked so vulnerable, with her mussed hair and clothing, and her eyes shining like they were filled with tears, but he knew that couldn't be right. She never cried.