The Marshal Meets His Match (17 page)

Recounting what he’d learned, Wyatt unsaddled and rubbed Charger down before turning the animal out with Franks’s geldings to graze. Franks and Jonah confirmed that the banker had frequently complained in public about his “worthless bank help” although the young man had been unfailingly polite to customers.

No new pieces of the puzzle appeared as the three men discussed the findings but agreed Wyatt needed to pin down the banker when he returned. “The town’s been real quiet since you and Miss Meri left,” Jonah said dryly.

“Meri left? Where? When? She wasn’t supposed to ride out on her own,” Wyatt snapped.

Franks chuckled, his hammer clanging a horseshoe into shape as Jonah replied to the question. “McIsaac talked Doc into letting him go home. Between Miss Meri and Mrs. Van Deusen, they filled a wagon bed full of quilts and bullied McIsaac into lying down in the back for the ride. They headed home yesterday afternoon.”

Wyatt resumed breathing. “Anything else I need to know about?”

“Nope, like I said. It’s been quiet without you two to stir up trouble.”

“Then let’s go get some food. After that I need to catch up on some reports. See ya later, Franks.”

* * *

Meri straightened and stretched her aching back. The sun was warm, but the breeze cooled her sweat-dampened skin as she leaned on her hoe and checked her progress. The garden was coming along well and looked as if it would deliver an abundant harvest this year. It was also weed free, thanks to her hard work.

It was good to be home and back in the thick of ranch life. Faither was anxious to be back out on the range he loved, and Meri didn’t know how long she could keep him off a horse, but at least for now he’d agreed to work in his office for a few days. She’d worried the trip home would tax his strength and set his recovery back, but he appeared invigorated by the fact that he was home, and she was pleased with how well he seemed to be doing. He tired quicker than normal, but that was fading a little more each day. Before long, he’d be back to full strength.

Meri, on the other hand, had about worn herself out making sure he took it easy while trying to outwork her own disordered thoughts. Coming home was supposed to restore life to normal, but normal had packed its bags and departed for parts unknown. Pastor Willis’s sermon continued to nag her heart, and Wyatt Cameron seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her thoughts. When ignoring them didn’t work, Meri tried to keep herself too busy to think, and evidence of her frenzy lay all around her.

They had arrived home Tuesday afternoon; it was now Friday. In that time she’d cleaned the chicken coop and horse stalls before progressing to every corner of the barn. She’d cleaned and oiled every saddle and bridle she could lay her hands on, and Barnaby good-humoredly accused her of trying to put his men out of a job. She would have tackled the inside of the house if Ms. Maggie and her father hadn’t shooed her out from under their feet, so she tackled cobwebs on porches and weeds in flower beds instead.

Looking over her latest endeavor, Meri viewed the weed-free garden with satisfaction.

Now what?
a little voice asked mockingly.
You can’t run forever.

Hoofbeats caught her ear, and welcoming the interruption, she turned, shading her eyes to see the oncoming rider. Meri’s heart gave an odd little skip as she recognized the figure on the beautiful bay. She groaned. Just when she’d managed to stop thinking about the man, he had to show up!

Sure you stopped thinking about him…for all of five minutes!

Wyatt lifted his hand in greeting.

Meri glanced down at herself. She was a mess! Sweat dripping, dirt smudges everywhere and her hair probably a wild tangle from the wind teasing it all morning. She couldn’t meet him looking like this! Dropping the hoe along with any attempt at dignity, Meri raced for the back door.

The kitchen door slammed in her wake, and Ms. Maggie jumped away from her bread dough, slapping her hand to her chest. “Good grief, girl. What’s wrong?”

Meri slid to a halt and attempted to retrieve the composure she’d left in the garden dirt. “Um, the marshal. He’s here. I’m going to my room.”

The housekeeper shook her head in exasperation, and Meri ran up the back stairs as a knock rattled the front door. Reaching the sanctuary of her room, she frantically washed up, donned a clean pink blouse and fresh skirt and with trembling fingers rebraided her windblown hair. Finally she plopped down in her rocking chair, hands shaking and nerves fluttering.

Why was she so worried about her appearance? She wasn’t vain about her looks, at least not much. They’d had visitors to the ranch when she wore the stains of hard work, but never before had she raced away to clean up, then remained hidden in her room.

Meri rocked the chair vigorously.
I am not hiding! Besides, he didn’t come to see me. He came to check on Faither.

“Meri? Are ye coming down, lass? Ye have a visitor.” Meri jumped as her father’s voice echoed up the stairs.

Taking a deep breath and checking her appearance in the mirror once more, she noticed she was visibly shaking. Meri uttered a quick, desperate plea.

“Lord, help!”

The prayer had been instinctive, and a sudden thought froze her in her tracks. Maybe it wasn’t that the Lord wasn’t hearing her prayers, maybe it was that she’d actually stopped praying except for an occasional desperate yelp. Had she prayed at all since she’d gotten home?

“Meri?”

Shelving the thought, she called, “Coming, Faither.”

Feigning courage, she opened the door and hurried to the stairs. She’d fully expected to see both men waiting at the bottom and breathed a sigh of relief when they weren’t. Descending the stairs slowly, she heard voices coming from her father’s study and headed that direction.

“Ah. There she is.” Both men stood from overstuffed chairs as she entered the book-lined room where her father’s desk stood. Most of the books had been collected by her mother and lived undisturbed until long winter evenings. “I’ve invited Cameron to stay to lunch. Ms. Maggie said it would be ready shortly.”

“It’s ready now. Come and get it.” The housekeeper spoke behind her.

Meri followed the woman back to the kitchen. “I’ll help you put it on the table.”

“It’s already on the table.” The woman waved Meri toward the door.

“Where?” Meri looked at the bare kitchen table.

“We have company. It’s time that big dining table was used again, and this is as good a time as any. Now shoo, you have a guest.”

Entering the little-used dining room, Meri was surprised to see the housekeeper had set the table with a linen cloth, napkins and Catriona McIsaac’s good china. When had she had time to do it all? Surely Meri hadn’t spent that much time in her room?

Marshal Cameron held a chair for her to the right of her father, and she slid into it while avoiding his eyes. His hand brushed her shoulder, and Meri nearly jumped out of her skin at the reaction the simple touch caused. Glancing at him as he took his seat across the table from her, she intercepted a penetrating look and dropped her eyes to her plate, wondering why he was here.

After McIsaac asked the blessing and their plates were filled, Wyatt and her father continued a discussion that must have started in the study before she’d come down. It seemed that once again there were more dead ends concerning the bank robbery.

Meri chewed and swallowed automatically, losing track of the conversation. He wasn’t here to see her. He was only here to keep her father informed. So why did her heart pound just a little faster every time she caught his eyes on her?

Because you’ve allowed yourself to imagine something that isn’t there. The man is simply doing his job. Once it’s done, he’ll move on.
Meri fought to keep her wandering gaze on her plate and off their handsome guest.

The interminable meal ended, and McIsaac leaned back in his chair, propping his elbows atop the armrests and crossing his hands over his stomach. “I believe ye had something ye wanted to ask me daughter, Cameron.”

Meri stiffened, waiting, but neither man spoke. She darted a look at her father, but he merely pointed toward Wyatt. She steeled herself to brave the hazel-green eyes watching her.

“Ah. There you are. You’ve been very quiet.” His smile was gentle instead of teasing.

Meri felt her cheeks color. When had he gone from the most annoying man she’d ever met, to the most handsome? Taking a deep breath, she forced a composure into her voice that she was nowhere close to feeling. “What is your question?”

His gaze shifted to the table, and Meri felt like she’d lost something—which was nonsense. How could you lose something you didn’t have in the first place?

He looked back, determination gleaming in his gaze. “May I escort you to the church picnic tomorrow?”

Chapter Twelve

M
eri’s breath froze in her throat. Had he really come to ask her to accompany him to the picnic? Her—Meri McIsaac? The old maid of Little Creek?

Hope sparked then an appalling question doused it. After those two men had shot at her, Marshal Cameron had said she wasn’t to go riding outside of town alone. Had he simply decided it was part of his job to escort her to the picnic—a way to keep an eye on the troublemaker? Had her father asked him to take her since he was staying home?

Her father cleared his throat, reminding her Marshal Cameron was still waiting for an answer. She swallowed the lump of mortification that stuck in her throat, and it hit her stomach like a cannonball. “Thank you, but I’m not going to the picnic. I don’t want to leave Faither alone.” At least her voice didn’t sound as embarrassed as she felt.

“Ach. I don’t need a babysitter, lassie. Frankly, I could use a break from yer frantic cleaning, and so could ye. Ye’ve worked yerself to a frazzle this week. Now it’s time for a little fun.” He looked at Wyatt. “When will ye be here to pick her up?”

“But…” Her feeble protest was lost in the continuing conversation.

“I’ll be here about ten o’clock in the morning. That should give us plenty of time to get there before the meal at noon. When do you want your daughter home, sir?”

“Have the lass home before dark.”

“Yes, sir.”

They stood and shook hands as if they’d completed a business transaction. Apparently, her suspicions weren’t far from the mark. Dazed, she watched them walk out of the room toward the front door. “Wait! Don’t I have some say in this?” she demanded, scurrying to catch up.

Both men replied in unison, “No.”

“Why do I get the feeling I’ve been ambushed?” She sounded peeved, but it was better than melting into a puddle of humiliation.

Wyatt laughed as he stepped outside and off the porch. “See you in the morning.”

As he loped his horse away, Meri turned to her father and took a deep breath. “Why—”

He held up his hand. “Ye need a break, and ye wouldn’t have gone on yer own. Don’t forget, ye’ll need to make something for the dessert auction.” McIsaac turned to go in the house.

She stopped him. “Did you ask him to take me?”

The surprise in his eyes was genuine. “Wheesht, lass. Why would I need to ask the man to escort me beautiful daughter to the picnic? He’s smart enough to have the idea for himself. Now, if ye’ll excuse me, I’m wee bit tired. I think I need to lie down.” The twinkle in his eye belied his plea of fatigue as he left her standing on the porch.

* * *

Meri threw the third dress across her bed in frustration. She was working herself into a dither over what to wear to the picnic.

You’re being ridiculous, Meri!

Running downstairs, she found Barnaby exiting her father’s study.

“Can I do something for you, miss?”

“Would you have someone saddle Sandy and bring him around, please?”

Faither followed him out of the room. “Lass, a gentleman brings a buggy when he’s taking his girl to a picnic. Ye don’t need yer horse.”

“I am
not
his girl. I’m riding Sandy in.” She smiled winningly at the foreman. “Will you do it, Barnaby? Please?”

Looking at McIsaac, who only shrugged in exasperation, he sighed. “Yes, if that’s what you want.”

“Thank you.” Planting a quick kiss on the cheek of each man, she turned and ran back up the stairs to her room.

“This is gonna be interesting,” Barnaby muttered.

Determination filled her as she headed back to her wardrobe and grabbed an outfit. It wasn’t what most females would wear to a picnic, especially when they were escorted by a handsome gentleman, but then again, she wasn’t most females. When Wyatt Cameron arrived at her doorstep with a buggy, she would meet him on horseback. As Meri McIsaac, the content-to-be-single cowgirl. Not a delicately dressed husband-hunting female.

Donning the outfit, Meri scoffed at herself. Obviously her rebellion only stretched so far. She’d pulled out her newest, fanciest riding habit. The long and full divided skirt was a buttery-soft fawn-colored leather, paired with a crisp white blouse and belted at the waist with a black leather belt. A black velvet ribbon circled the collar of the blouse in a feminine bow. A matching fawn-colored leather vest with shiny black jet buttons topped the blouse, and a tan flat-brimmed hat and black boots completed the ensemble.

Meri studied herself in the mirror. She’d smoothed her hair into a neat braid, coiled and pinned at the base of her neck and neatly tucked beneath the brim of her hat. A flush warmed her cheeks, and the color of the skirt and vest mimicked the color of her hair and the light tan on her skin. She’d always thought the outfit was pretty and polished, but all at once, she saw the contrast she’d make against the backdrop of dressed-up females.

“Well, if your aim was to stand out like a sore thumb, America McIsaac, you’re going to accomplish it in rare form.” Looking at the little clock on her nightstand, she muttered, “And it’s too late to change your mind now. He’ll be here soon.”

Giving in to a last-minute impulse, she opened her jewelry box, pulled out a pair of jet earbobs and fastened them to her ears. Tucking a handkerchief in her pocket, Meri avoided the mirror again and left the room.