The Marshal Takes a Bride (5 page)

Laney abandoned all pretense of helping and turned her full attention to Katherine. “I’ll admit Trey can seem hard on the surface, but deep down he’s a good man. And none of his anger shows when he’s with the children.”

Katherine swung around to glare at her friend. “Are you defending him?”

Throwing a palm in the air between them, Laney shook her head. “No. No. It’s just that he’s—”

“A U.S. marshal.”

“Yes, that’s right. And although he’s not exactly godly, he is a man of high morals, sworn to protect the citizens of this country. All things considered, he’s an acceptable example for the children, including Molly.”

Katherine dismissed the notion with a flick of her wrist. “You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I’m afraid I do.” Laney lowered her hand, sighed. “It’s his job to hunt down criminals, Katherine, including the men who murdered his wife and child. Maybe instead of condemning him, you could try understanding him better.”

Clenching tense fingers around a plate, Katherine set her jaw. “Let’s say I do find compassion for his lethal quest. What if he’s killed in the process?”

“Oh, honey.” Laney’s eyes softened. “Not every lawman dies.”

Katherine shook her head, refusing to let her mind go in that direction. “Trey Scott is the embodiment of instability. I don’t want Molly getting attached to him.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, she already is.”

Katherine cringed over the statement, seriously concerned Molly wasn’t the only one growing attached to the man. “Well, it’s not too late to prevent any further harm. As long as he stays away from her, everything will be fine.”

“Aren’t you being a bit overprotective?”

Trey had used similar words against her. The accusation hadn’t sat well with Katherine then, and it didn’t sit well with her now. “Isn’t that the role of a big sister?”

Laney gently pried the plate out of Katherine’s grip. Steering her to a stool, she forced her to sit. “I’m worried about you. You’ve been on edge a lot lately, and I think it has more to do with a certain U.S. marshal than your struggle to find your way as Molly’s guardian.”

Katherine tried to rise, but Laney placed a restraining hand on her shoulder. “It’s time we talked about what’s really bothering you.”

“
Nothing’s
bothering me except my concern over Marshal Scott’s damaging influence over Molly’s life.”

Laney pressed her nose inches from Katherine’s. “Why don’t we get to the real problem? Shall we?”

“And here I thought we had.”

A shrewd look filled Laney’s gaze. “I think you should admit you have strong feelings for Trey Scott, ones that have nothing to do with your little sister.”

Katherine shot off the stool. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Correction.” Laney pointed a finger at her. “
Very
strong feelings.”

T
he next morning, Katherine exited Charity House with the notion of using work to alleviate her restlessness from the night before. Unfortunately, the crisp mountain air did nothing to shake her melancholy. Perched on the top step of the wraparound porch, she looked to the heavens and sighed. Large puffs of cottony white clouds drifted aimlessly against the deep blue sky.

If only she could be that carefree. But Laney’s accusation about her feelings toward Marshal Scott had put dangerous thoughts into Katherine’s head, making her want to cast off the chains of her past. To start a new life free of fear.

If only I deserved a second chance.

More agitated than before, Katherine trudged down the steps and started along the sidewalk that led from the orphanage to the Charity House School two doors away. The faint whinny of a horse in the distance had her looking up.

Realizing she wasn’t alone on the path, Katherine immediately stopped in her tracks. Two ladies slowly ap
proached from the opposite direction. They were dressed in beautiful tight-waisted dresses in identical shades of pink satin. With each graceful step, their skirts billowed over their dainty feet. They shimmered in the morning light, looking like purity personified.

In spite of her best efforts to remain calm, instant trepidation sprang to life. Katherine knew these women. She had seen the two sitting together with their families in church. They were either sisters or very good friends, but Katherine had failed to find out which because no matter how often she smiled at them, they never acknowledged her in return.

The reflex to rush back into Charity House came fast, nearly too powerful to resist. But Katherine was no coward. Thus, she held her ground and took courage in the last line from Psalm 31.
Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord
.

As the two drew nearer, Katherine lifted her chin a little higher. They studied her from under the brim of their feathered hats. Their gazes were unreadable but not overly antagonistic. Pleased the women hadn’t snubbed her right away, Katherine smiled.

“Good morning,” she said.

The taller woman grabbed the elbow of the smaller and pulled her closer, as though she were saving her from stepping in a cow pie. A snarled lip confirmed her disgust.

Katherine swallowed down the bile rising in her throat. A shiver slithered up her spine, and her hands started to shake.

Oh, please, Lord, not again
.

Her prayer went unanswered. As one, the ladies lifted their regal noses in the air, snorted—they actually snorted!—and all but scrambled across the street in their haste to get to the other side.

Stunned, Katherine’s eyes began to sting, and she had to fight a wave of hysteria as their pointed whispers lifted in the air.

“Tramp,” one said to the other, menace dripping in her voice. “She’s just like her mother.”

“I heard she led that man on,” came the harsh reply.

At that comment the women turned back and stared at Katherine from over their shoulders. From the measuring glint in their eyes, it was obvious they thought very little of her.

Katherine had experienced this sort of shunning often enough before, but the pain and humiliation were still sharp, like burning shards stabbing into her heart. For several heartbeats, Katherine stood with her head high and her breath stuck in her throat.

On her left, the Charity House School stood like a sentinel, offering sanctuary. Giving in to her humiliation, Katherine rushed up the steps and quickly fit the key into the lock.

Once inside the safety of the building, she leaned back against the shut door and gulped for air. Blinking away the tears in her eyes, she swallowed hard, again and again and again, until she had her emotions under control. Katherine would not allow those cruel women’s barbs to hit their mark. Not today. Not ever.

At last her breathing evened out, and she wandered aimlessly through the rooms of the school. Unfortunately, and against her best efforts, Katherine’s thoughts kept circling back to what the women had said on the street.

She’d led that man on.…

No. It wasn’t true. Katherine hadn’t asked to be forced like that. All her life she’d kept her distance from men.
They’d always scared her, a legacy from the ugly side of their nature, which she’d witnessed often enough in her mother’s brothel.

And no matter what people claimed about her, Katherine would never have relations with a man, not willingly. Which made Laney’s accusations about her feelings for Trey Scott all the more absurd. The man was too intense, too dangerous, and…and…Katherine had worked too hard to achieve normalcy in her life to give any man—especially a lawman with a death wish—the power to hurt her again.

With her head thick and heavy from her troubling thoughts, Katherine prayed for focus.
O Lord, be not silent. Do not be far from me.

She looked around her and studied the safe world she’d created out of an incomplete education and necessity.

No man could hurt her here.

This was
her
territory. Her home. The one place where she had complete control. Each desk, book and writing tablet had been chosen with care. She and Laney had turned the two-story brick building into a reputable school for the children banished from all the others in town.

She and the orphans might be outcasts in the community, but they had a place of belonging here.

Katherine crossed to her desk and straightened a stack of papers that didn’t need straightening. The fresh smell of soap and furniture polish told her Mrs. Smythe had indulged in some deep cleaning earlier this morning.

Strolling through her domain, Katherine released a sigh. Every detail reflected her taste for precision and order.

Admit you have strong feelings for Trey Scott…

Laney’s words from the night before echoed through
Katherine’s thoughts. Taunting her. Mocking her. Far worse than any whispered attempts at hurting her with untrue accusations.

Frantic for some relief, she wove her way between the desks and trekked toward the supply closet in the back of the building. After lighting a lantern, she carried it with her into the dark, tiny room.

Katherine’s trademark military-style order was reflected here as well. Inkwells, writing tablets and fresh sticks of chalk marched in straight rows along the lower two shelves on her left. More writing tablets were stacked on the upper shelves, along with rulers and other miscellaneous supplies.

Katherine set down the lantern and breathed in the comforting scent of books and paper. She ran her fingertip across the cold inkwells, and then along the smooth book spines. But even here, in her favorite refuge, thoughts of Trey Scott threatened her peace of mind.

What if she hadn’t flinched from his touch? Would such a man ever be able to give her the genuine caring and devotion she secretly craved, in spite of what others thought of her?

She was only kidding herself with dreams of the impossible. No man would give her the love and respect that another, untainted woman deserved. Her attacker, and the subsequent response from the townspeople, had shown Katherine exactly what her value was in this world.

Anyone who trusts God will never be put to shame.

The verse from Romans swept through her mind, giving her the reassurance she sought. Ever since that dark night, Katherine had turned to God as her salvation. And she’d always found peace in His shelter.

His opinion was all that mattered. Today would be no exception. Instead of feeling sorry for herself, she would take a quick inventory of her supplies.

She focused her attention of the rows of
Michel’s Geography
and
The Pilgrim’s Progress
on her right. Looking forward to the mind-numbing task, she dropped to the floor and began counting the books on the bottom shelves first. She had to bend all the way over in order to reach the books nudged in the farthest back corner.

“Ten, eleven, twelve.” She jabbed at the last one. “That makes thirteen. I’ll definitely have to order more this week.”

“Well, now.” The familiar drawl dropped through the stuffy air and skidded down the back of Katherine’s neck. “This is by far the most interesting sight I’ve seen all morning.”

Katherine jerked upward and promptly thumped her head against the shelf above her. “Don’t you know how to knock?”

A masculine chuckle was Trey’s only response.

She tried twisting around but only managed to bang her head on the shelf again.

“Careful now.”

She quickly flipped over, sat up and hugged her knees against her chest. Huddled in a tight ball, she had to look up—and up farther still—in order to bestow her indignation upon the man.

“Ma’am.” He whipped off his hat and bowed. “Always a pleasure.”

From her vantage point, the brute appeared more mountain than man. “Isn’t there a rule or code or something against sneaking up on unsuspecting women?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Probably. But I think I skipped that day at lawman’s school.”

“You are a mule-headed—”

“Stubborn pig.” A touch of mischief danced in his eyes. “Or so I’ve been told a time or two.”

In this lighthearted mood, with his face clean-shaven and his hair damp on the ends, Trey Scott was far more dangerous than he had been the day before.

This time, however, she would not give in to her fear of him. She would
not.
The neighbor ladies had caught her at a weak moment this morning. Trey Scott would not be given the same chance. “You’ve only heard that once or twice?”

He laughed, the gesture swiping ten years off his features. She didn’t like the way her stomach twisted in response. But from dread, or something else entirely? Disturbed by the direction of her thoughts, she dropped her gaze and instantly noticed he hadn’t worn his guns.

Come to think of it, he never wore the six-shooters when he came around the children. The consideration for their safety made him infinitely more likable.

The big, heartless brute.

It was so much easier to control her emotions around him when he acted like the mule-headed, stubborn pig he claimed to be. But Trey Scott had hidden depths that Katherine was only beginning to notice after their yearlong, precarious acquaintance.

Oh, Lord, what now?

“Are you going to sit down there all day?” he asked.

“Are you going to prove yourself a gentleman and help me up?”

The aggravating grin on his face widened as he flipped his hat onto one of the desks behind him. “Ask nicely.”

What gave Trey Scott the right to look so vital and handsome, like he was a hero out of a ridiculous dime novel? “Would you stop staring at me like…like…
that?
”

He rubbed his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Are you taking a tone with me, Miss Taylor?”

His outrageous remark pushed her to stand on her own, but her foot tangled in her skirts, and she fell back down. “Oh, now look at what you’ve done.”

He angled his head at her. “For a good Christian woman, you have a pretty mean temper.”

“How absurd. Christian women get angry, too.”

“Obviously.”

She didn’t like this teasing side of him. What had happened to the Trey Scott who couldn’t go three sentences without arguing with her?
That
man she could handle.

“You can save the snide remarks, Marshal. And. Help. Me. Up.”

The light from the lantern flickered off the watch fob dangling from one of his vest buttons, blinding her for a moment.

“I wish you’d turn around again.” He drew out a long, dramatic sigh. “The other end didn’t bite.”

A seed of rebellion took hold of her. “Don’t forget, a bee keeps her stinger in her behind.”

His lips twitched. “Miss Taylor, I’m shocked!”

Panicked he might start laughing, and then get her started as well, she gave him her let’s-get-down-to-business look. “Marshal Scott—”

“Right, right. Help you up.”

Pushing from the wall, he reached out to her. Palm met palm, and…nothing. No fear. No terror. Just a pleasant warmth.

Then, when he shifted his hold slightly, all she felt in response was…

Contentment?

At that odd thought, a riot of confusion shot through her already addled brain, and she pulled on her hand. “Either help me up or let go.”

“Right.” With a flick of his wrist, he yanked her to her feet.

Quickly dropping her hand to her side, she took a careful step back and then straightened to her full height. Feeling remarkably out of her depth, she resorted to the one tactic that kept her on an even footing with the man. Antagonism.

“I don’t know why you’re here, but I refuse to continue trading insults with you today,” she said.

He had the nerve to look shocked by her words. “Is that what we’re doing? I thought we were getting on rather well. For us.”

She took a deep breath. “Step back please. So I can pass.”

His expression turned serious, concerned even, and he quickly did as she asked. “Of course.”

Right. Now he had to be heroic and honor her fears, like he had the day before in Marc’s study. Did he know that when he acted like this, with such careful consideration of her feelings, his closeness didn’t frighten her so much?

But, if that were truly the case, why were her hands shaking?

In an effort to hide her trembling fingers, she busied herself with brushing off her skirt.

“I’d be happy to assist.” He peered around the side of her. “Unless, of course, you brought your stinger with you.”

“You, sir, are outrageous.” And the more he talked with that smooth Southern drawl, the more her uncertainty increased. “Maybe you should be on your way now.”

“Don’t you want to know why I searched you out?”

“Not particularly.” But curiosity poked through her wish to be rid of him. “How did you know I was here?”