Second Chance Brides (10 page)

Truth be told, she didn’t like the crutch, but the marshal had been so nice to fetch it for her that she hated to say so. She tried again and managed three steps before she lost her balance. She reached for a nearby table and missed.

“Oh!” Rachel squealed.

Shannon’s hand brushed the arm of the settee, but she missed it, too, and landed on the floor. Pain clutched her ankle and hand, but it was nothing compared to when she first injured her leg. She tried to push up from the floor, but her long skirts had wrapped around her legs, and she was stuck between the settee and coffee table legs.

How humiliating!

Hurried footsteps sounded behind her, and she closed her eyes. Could things get any worse?

“Are you all right?” Rachel leaned toward Shannon’s face.

“Aye, but I do feel quite foolish.”

“Do you mind if Luke helps you up?”

Shannon shook her head. “I’m tangled in my skirts.”

A quick knock sounded, and Shannon peeked through the table legs. Garrett Corbett strode in. “Mornin’, folks.”

Heat raced up Shannon’s cheeks. What would her new boss think?

His eyes widened, and he hurried forward to help Luke assist her up. Back on the settee, she rearranged her skirts and avoided looking at anyone. Would they all think her a clumsy fool?

Rachel picked up the crutch. “Shannon was trying this out to see if she could walk with it.”

Garrett grinned. “Uh, let me guess. It didn’t work.”

Luke stood beside him chuckling, and Rachel glared at her husband.

Garrett forced a straight face. “Have no fear, I brought the wagon.”

Warmth flooded Shannon’s cheeks again. He didn’t even think she could walk a few hundred feet. She thought about the crutch again. Well, perhaps he was right. But if she couldn’t walk that far and rode the wagon to work, she’d be stuck at the freight office, dependent on the Corbett brothers—and that was the last place she wanted to be. Wasn’t that why she’d accepted the position of employment in the first place? So that she could support herself instead of relying on them?

“Maybe she should wait a few more days before starting work,” Rachel said.

Three sets of eyes fell on Shannon, and she resisted the urge to squirm. She’d already lost almost two nights’ sleep worrying over working with Mark Corbett. If she didn’t start today, she’d only worry more. “Nay, I’ll ride in the wagon.”

“Are you sure?” The concerned look in Rachel’s eyes warmed her. Made her feel as if someone cared about her.

“Aye.”

“Great. Then let’s go.” Garrett strode toward her and swooped her up without asking permission.

Shannon wrapped her arm around his neck and sat up stiffly. These Americans were uncouth and did as they pleased without so much as a by-your-leave. She thought back to being in Mark’s arms when they were running from the storm. She’d actually liked him carrying her. Liked being close to him. Then why was she so nervous about working in the same office?

Garrett helped her up to the wagon seat, and she climbed aboard and sat down. Rachel reached up her hand and laid it on Shannon’s arm while Garrett walked around the front of the wagon. “I’ll come down in an hour or so and make sure things are all right.”

“That’s not necessary, but I thank you. I’m sure I will be fine.”

“It’s no trouble at all.” Rachel smiled, winked, and stepped back. “Don’t let those yahoos boss you around too much.” Shannon finally smiled. “I won’t.”

“Hold on.” Garrett lifted the reins and smacked them down on the horses’ backs. “Heeyah!”

The wagon lurched forward and then settled. Shannon held tight to the side and gazed at the remains of the store. Boards that were long enough to be reused had been stacked along the property line. A half-dozen men and women were sorting through the last of the rubble. “’Tis a sad sight.”

Garrett looked to his left and nodded. “Mark and I brought in a load of lumber from Dallas yesterday. Got another couple of trips to make, and then there will be a store raisin’.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“It’s just like a barn raisin’ except we’re building a store. Since it’s the only one in town, we need it to survive, so everyone’s chipping in to help.”

They passed the remains of the Fosters’ home, and Shannon wished there was something she could do to help the older couple. A man tossed a bucket of water into the dirt road, and one of Garrett’s horses jerked his head up and snorted. The wagon creaked down Bluebonnet Lane, then veered left onto Oak Street. They passed a number of houses before reaching the end of the road, where they made two quick left turns and ended up on Main Street. The boardinghouse rose up in front of her at the far end of the street. It surely was a lovely building with its soft green color and white trim. The porch practically begged people to stop and sit in the matching white rockers. Perhaps later she could do that very thing, but now she had to concentrate on learning her new job.

“Whoaaa.” Garrett pulled the wagon to a stop and set the brake. He hopped down, patted each horse on the forehead, and muttered something before coming around to help her down.

Shannon’s stomach swirled. She’d never worked in an office before. Aye, she could keep it clean and tidy once her ankle healed, but Garrett had said something about helping Mark with the recordkeeping. How would she know what to do? Was Mark even agreeable to teaching her or letting her work with him?

Surely if he’d not been, Garrett wouldn’t have hired her. Yet she had a hard time believing Mark would assent. Even though he’d come to her rescue during the storm, he didn’t seem to favor her for some reason.

Garrett lifted her down and held her steady. “Guess I should haul you on inside.”

Balancing her weight mostly on her good leg, she broke from his gaze and looked around. The marshal had left the boardinghouse and now stood outside his office, talking to several men. Two ladies exited Dolly’s Dress Shop and walked toward them, talking and laughing.

“Perhaps you could walk on my weak side and offer support.” She eyed the women, who’d suddenly taken note of her and Garrett.

“Mornin’, Mrs. Mann. Mrs. Jenkins.” Garrett tipped his hat to them. “Nice day, isn’t it?”

Both women smiled at the handsome rogue, then turned suspicious glances in Shannon’s direction. Fortunately, they continued on past the newspaper office and turned in to the bank.

“Curious ol’ biddies. You know they’re just fit to be tied wondering why you’re here with me.”

Shannon’s mouth turned up in a grin. Aye, she could imagine. She knew the two ladies were quite the busybodies, from their visits with Rachel at the boardinghouse.

“Shall we?” Garrett’s brow lifted.

Shannon gently put weight on her twisted ankle and grimaced, not so much from the pain but from the fear that it would hurt. Garrett wasted no time, and hauled her up in his arms. He grunted as he carried her up the stairs from the street to the boardwalk, and Shannon was sure she’d never regain her dignity.

Garrett fumbled with the door handle, then shoved it open, and stepped into the freight office. She glanced around and noticed right off that one desk was immaculate while the other was quite the mess. The tidy one had to be Mark’s. He always took time to dress nicely and combed his hair, whereas Garrett seemed like a ragamuffin, with his mussed hair and his clothing often wrinkled.

Mark entered from a side room. His eyes went wide, and his mouth dropped open. Shannon realized Garrett still held her.

Mark’s gaze narrowed as he took in his brother holding her. “Please tell me you didn’t run off and marry
her’“

C
HAPTER
7

J
ack baited her hook, tossed it into the water, then sat back against a tree and waited for a bite. She plucked a strand of grass and leaned to her left, where her good friend Jonesy had fallen asleep in the warmth of the August sun. Holding back a laugh, she stuck the stem under Jonesy’s nose and tickled him. His loud snores shifted to a series of grunts and gurgles, and he reached up and rubbed his nose without even opening his eyes.

Jack giggled and sat back.

“Why do you continue to pester him? His pa probably worked him like a plow mule since sunup.” Ricky, her other best friend, picked up a rock and tossed it to the far side of the river.

“How come he got to come fishin’?”

“’Cause his pa had a hankering for fish for dinner.”

“Well, his loud snores are scaring them all away.” Jack stared out at her fishing line, wishing for a bite.

“Nah, it’s probably just too hot for them to care about eating.” Ricky yawned and stretched. The summer sun had darkened his skin and turned his blond hair white. “So how do you like having the marshal for a pa,
Jacqueline?”

Jack shoved Ricky in the arm. “Don’t you call me that.”

“Your ma told me to.”

She leaned back, keeping a hold on her pole. “I don’t care. I hate that name.”

“Why? I think it’s kind of pretty, for a girl.”

Jack swung her gaze back to meet Ricky’s dark blue stare. Was he teasing her? His thick hair hung over his eyebrows and almost into his eyes. He was nice-looking, for a boy. “You really think so?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah, I guess.”

Jack gazed up at the sky and considered that. She’d never once thought her given name was pretty, and she still preferred Jack, but it was nice to know someone liked her name.

The arms of the sun reached through the canopy of trees overhead, touching the river with its light. The quiet water rippled on the gentle breeze, but the heat still made her hot. She swiped at a river of sweat tickling her cheek. They ought to be swimming instead of fishing, but her ma would have a conniption fit if she swam with the boys.

A proper lady never swims with gentlemen
, she’d said. But then, Jack knew she was far from a lady—or being proper for that matter. It seemed that women had so many rules they had to abide by while men got to do whatever they wanted. Why couldn’t she have been born a boy?

Jonesy’s snores grew louder, and she gave him a shove. “Hush up! I cain’t hear myself think.”

He murmured something in his sleep and rolled over with his back to her. Maybe now he’d be quieter.

She thought about her new pa and smiled. Things sure had changed since he’d married her ma.

“What’s so funny?” Ricky asked.

“Aw, nothing. I was just thinking about all that has changed since my ma married Luke.”

“Like what?”

She sat up straight and wrapped her arms around her knees. “I got my own room now. It’s the yellow one upstairs, where that outlaw stayed.”

“That must be nice. I share a room with my two little sisters. At least I got my own bed. Jonesy shares one with his two little brothers.”

She leaned toward her friend. “I’ve got a double bed.”

“All your own?”

“Uh-huh. I like it. Ma don’t put her cold feet on my legs no more.”

“That’s no problem these days, as hot as its been. I get all sweaty at night, even with the window open. Half the time, I take my quilt and lay it on the porch or in the hay loft ’cause it’s cooler to sleep there.”

Jack nodded. “That’s a good idea. I’d try it, but Ma wouldn’t let me if she knew about it. She’s such a worrywart.”

Ricky stretched and rubbed his belly. “Maybe she won’t feel so much that way once her and the marshal have some kids.”

Jack bolted up. Thoughts of little brothers and sisters bounced around in her mind. “You think they will?”

He shrugged. “Couldn’t say, but that’s usually what happens not too long after a wedding.”

Hugging her knees, she considered what it would be like to have a younger brother or sister. It would be fun while they were a baby, but she didn’t think she’d like sharing her bed. “How long you reckon it would take?”

“For what?” Ricky yawned and rubbed the back of his neck.

“For them to…you know.” She felt her cheeks grow warm. “To have a baby.”

“At least nine months.”

She leaned back and relaxed. That was a long while. Why, her whole life had changed in less than half that time, starting when Luke returned to Lookout after being away eleven years. And she’d met a real live outlaw, and her ma had even been kidnapped by one. Jack frowned, remembering how scared she’d been then. If her ma hadn’t returned home, she’d have been an orphan. But now she not only had her ma, but a new pa, too. And maybe soon a new brother or sister. Yep, school was out, and life was about as good as it could get.

“You smell somethin’?” Ricky lifted his nose in the air and sniffed.

“Smells like a pigpen.” Jack’s gaze collided with Ricky’s.

“Oh no.” He looked past her just as she heard footsteps.

Jack turned and saw Butch Laird coming toward them, a fishing pole on his shoulder. As long as she could remember, he’d been their enemy. His pa was a hog farmer, and Butch always stank, just like he’d wallowed in the muck.

Jack stood. “Guess I’ll head back home. We ain’t catching nothin’ anyhow.”

“You don’t have to go just ’cause of him.”

“Ma don’t want me around him. You know, since I got that black eye at the end of school.”