The Marshal Meets His Match
Read The Marshal Meets His Match Online
Authors: Clari Dees
Spinster by Choice?
In a world of marriage-minded females, Meri McIsaac is steadfastly single. She’s happiest riding on her father’s ranch. At least until the town’s new marshal startles her and causes her to fall—literally—at his feet. Then he has the gall to implicate her ranch in a bank holdup, turning her entire life upside down.
This is the woman the local matchmaker thought he should meet? Meri is stubborn and headstrong as a mule. Yet he recognizes her courage and loyalty, too, and the grief she carries over her mother’s passing. And if he can protect her from a criminal desperate to cover his tracks, he’ll prove that risking her heart could be the greatest adventure yet.
“You chased them! After they shot at you? Have you lost what little sense you may ever have had?”
The marshal’s glare sizzled as he growled in her face.
Meri blinked. When had he gotten so close? And how was it possible for him to be so close when they were both still on horseback? She fought the impulse to move her horse away from the growling marshal and instead leaned toward him. “Yes, I
chased
them!”
He copied her movement, leaning in until she felt his breath on her face. He held her eyes for several breaths without blinking. In a low dangerous tone, he asked gently, “Why?”
Meri barely heard him over the pulse thudding in her ears. “Because…”
Why had she chased them? At the moment she couldn’t remember. His nearness was making it nearly impossible to think. “Because they made me mad?” she finished lamely, feeling as foolish as she no doubt sounded.
He blinked, and warmer hazel softened the steely gray. Settling back in his saddle, he shook his head. “Remind me never to make you mad.”
CLARI DEES
An avid reader by age seven, Clari Dees loved to hang out at the public library, and the local bookstore staff knew her by name. Her favorite books included Marguerite Henry’s horse stories, Louis L’Amour’s Westerns and Grace Livingston Hill’s romances. Her fascination with books and libraries continues, and Clari now works as a public librarian by day and a writer by night. When she’s not locating books for an overdue term paper or tracing down a missing genealogy link for patrons at the library, she can be found at her computer plotting the lives and fortunes of hapless fictional characters.
A preacher’s kid from a large family, Clari has been in forty-one states and two countries on mission and singing trips. She still travels with one sister to singing engagements, but firmly believes there is no place like home, which happens to be the beautiful state of Missouri. She loves to spend time with her family and the horses, dogs, goldfish, cat, rabbit and bearded dragon that inhabit their country place. You can visit Clari on her blog,
cdeesbookshelf.blogspot.com
, or drop her an email at
[email protected]
.
Clari Dees
The Marshal Meets His Match
He healeth the broken in heart,
and bindeth up their wounds.
—Psalms
147:3
Weeping may endure for a night,
but joy cometh in the morning.
—Psalms
30:5
To my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ,
who gave me the desire of my heart.
To my mother, who taught me to read.
To my father, who taught me to love God’s Word.
To my brothers and sisters, who believed
I could write and encouraged me along the way.
I Love You So Much!
Contents
Chapter One
Little Creek, Colorado
Spring 1883
M
eri McIsaac stepped through the doors of Van Deusen’s Dry Goods and Mercantile into the enveloping aromas of dried spices, leather goods and pickle barrels and straight into the even more enveloping arms of Mrs. Van Deusen.
“Oh, it’s so good to see you. It’s been an age since you’ve been in town.” The diminutive, white-haired proprietress ambushed Meri with an exuberant hug. “Are you going to be at the church picnic a week from Saturday?”
Meri shrugged. She’d forgotten about the annual church picnic that heralded the end of a long winter and the welcome arrival of spring. “I don’t know, yet. The weather’s been so wild lately…”
“Oh, the roads are drying up nicely now, and you just have to be there. The new marshal has arrived, and you
have
to meet him. I’ve told him all about you. And if you don’t like him, there are a several other new single men who’ll be at the picnic, as well. You can look them all over and see which one strikes your fancy. You’re not getting any younger, my dear, and it is high time you found someone to marry. Your dear mother wouldn’t want you grieving for her any longer. She’d say it’s time you got on with your life. You don’t want to spend your entire life as an old maid, so be sure to come to the picnic where you can meet all the new bachelors at once.” The woman’s head nodded sharply to emphasize her point as she finally took a breath.
Meri struggled to hide her annoyance at the well-meaning assault, but the old maid comment flicked a raw spot, sparking her temper. Ducking her head and taking a deep breath, she pretended to study the list of needed ranch supplies and hastily changed the subject before losing control of her tongue. She was already feeling guilty for snapping at her father on the ride into town. He’d innocently mentioned a lighthearted memory of her mother, but it had stung the still fresh wound of her loss, and she’d saddened him with a harsh reply. She didn’t need another biting retort on her conscience.
“I have a list of things we need at the ranch. Faither asked me to leave it with you. He’ll stop by after he finishes at the bank to load the order into the buggy. I’ve got another errand I need to run, so if I can leave it with you, I’ll be on my way.” Meri thrust the list into Mrs. Van Deusen’s outstretched hand.
“Of course, dear. Are there any special instructions?” The woman was already perusing the list.
“No. I think the list is pretty self-explanatory.” She hid a relieved sigh. As pushy and nosy as Mrs. Van Deusen could be, she was also easily distracted by a long list. She prided herself on filling orders to the exact detail and fretted if something was not in stock. If Meri could get away before the proprietress finished reading the paper, she would escape another round of unwanted advice about her unattached status.
Mr. Van Deusen walked out of the supply room and around the end of the long counter. “We’ll see to the order, Miss McIsaac. You feel free to go about your other errands. Naoma can catch up with you when you return.” His wink went unseen by his wife.
Meri managed a weak smile and a thank-you and escaped out the door. This was supposed to be a fun trip to town to get away from the ranch for a little while after a long, hard winter, but she was out of sorts and already regretting the trip. She’d forgotten Mrs. Van Deusen’s escalating matchmaking efforts and the terms
old maid
and
spinster
beginning to be linked to her name. Being twenty-nine years old and unmarried—by choice, mind you—did not make one an old maid!
Feeling her temperature rise as she dwelt on the subject, Meri ducked down the alleyway between the mercantile and the clock maker, taking the back way to the livery stables. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with any more nosy, opinionated females at the moment, or she’d have a new title to add to the irksome ones of old maid and spinster. Something along the lines of the
cranky
and
snippy
old maid.
Meri walked past the line of businesses and outbuildings that made up the north side of First Street and reached the pastures belonging to Franks’s Livery Stable and Smithy.
Franks, a former slave freed during the War Between the States, had worked his way west during the turbulent years following the war, eventually settling in Little Creek. No one knew for sure how old he was, but he seemed ageless to Meri with his unlined chocolate skin, sharp black eyes, closely cropped black hair with a few touches of gray and an upright frame rendered massive by years of working with horses and blacksmith’s tools. He could be intimidating to those who didn’t know him, but a gentler, kinder man didn’t exist outside of Meri’s father, in her opinion, and Franks had become a close friend. He never failed to calm her down when she was riled, cheer her up when she was sad or just be available with a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on and words of wisdom when she was ready to listen.
It had been weeks since she’d had an opportunity to chat with him due to the stormy weather of late winter. Her father had remarked that any other female would want to visit their “women friends” after being cooped up at the ranch for weeks, but Meri preferred Franks’s company to anyone else in town.
Franks ran the livery stable and had also acquired enough land to allow him to breed horses on a small scale. No one knew horses like Franks, and Meri loved to discuss every aspect of them and their breeding with him, which would have scandalized the finer sensibilities of the prim-and-proper matrons of town if they could overhear.
She reached the corner of the closest pasture and slipped through the fence boards. Franks’s pastures ran almost the entire length of the town, with the livery located at the northeast end. A walk through the pasture to the livery would be just the thing to soothe her irritation.
She hadn’t covered much ground before she attracted the attention of Franks’s horses. They trotted over, curious about the newcomer to their pasture. “Hello, fellas. I don’t have any treats, but how ‘bout some scratches?” Warm, eager bodies surrounded her, and she was kept busy for several minutes giving hearty scratches behind ears and across shoulders, backs and bellies. As the horses shifted and stretched to allow access to itchy places, Meri felt the tension begin to drain from her own body.
“Hey, Abe.” She scratched a tall, rawboned black gelding. “Who’s the new guy?”
A large muscular bay with a white star peeking through a long black forelock was eyeing her coolly from the edge of the herd.
“Aren’t you a handsome fella?” she cooed, slowly advancing toward him. The tall horse, probably over sixteen hands high, snorted and stepped cautiously away from her. Meri mirrored his actions and backed off to take away the pressure she’d inadvertently put on him. “A little shy, are you? Okay, I’ll leave you alone, but we’ll be friends soon just like these other fellas. Come here, Abe. Why don’t we take a ride to the barn?”