The Marshal Meets His Match (11 page)

“I definitely remember voices right after I fell.” McIsaac muttered. He was quiet for a moment, thinking. “By the way, what happened to me gun?”

“I didn’t see it when we got there. Do you have it, Miss McIsaac?”

“No. I didn’t even think to look for it although I know he usually carries one. I haven’t even thought about it since.”

“That was me favorite pistol,” McIsaac grumbled. “I sure would like it back.”

“I’ll ask around,” Wyatt said. “Maybe someone else picked it up that day and forgot to mention it.”

“You said the thief cleaned out the safe?” McIsaac asked.

“Yes. Mr. Samuels said he got everything.”

“That must have been a lot of money to carry if he took everything.”

“How much do you think he got away with?” Wyatt looked from his notes.

“I have no idea, but Samuels had just been bragging how well the bank was doing. I assumed there was quite a bit of money in that safe.”

Dr. Kilburn walked in and cleared his throat. “It’s time to let Mr. McIsaac get some rest. I don’t want him to overdo things on his first day awake, even if he has made a remarkable recovery from yesterday.”

“Now, Doc, I haven’t had a chance to speak to Jonah about the ranch,” McIsaac protested.

“Jonah can drop back by after you’ve had some rest. Your ranch will still be there.” Doc’s stern tone brooked no argument.

Getting up from his chair where he’d been quietly listening, Jonah hastily assured McIsaac that the ranch was fine and not to worry his head about it as Barnaby had things well in hand.

Wyatt asked Mr. McIsaac to describe the physical characteristics of the man who’d visited his ranch, and after writing down the information, he closed his little book and slipped it and the pencil back into his pocket. “If you think of anything else, let me know. Until then you have my word that I’ll do whatever it takes to track down the culprit.”

Doc shooed them out, ordering Miss McIsaac along with them. “I want to examine your father, and then he needs to rest. You go get some fresh air or take a nap, but run along.”

Wyatt was mulling over what he’d learned from Meri’s father as he and Jonah walked to the front door, aware that Miss McIsaac had followed them. Stepping aside to allow her to precede him, he watched her blindly walk through the door Jonah held open. She looked a little lost and unsure what to do with herself. He followed her into the brightly lit outdoors, admiring the glints of gold that danced to life in the honey-colored thick braid as sunlight touched her uncovered head.

“What are you going to do, Miss Meri?” Jonah asked.

Meri glanced around, seeming to search for an answer before replying with forced cheerfulness, “I think I’ll enjoy Mrs. Kilburn’s garden for a bit, and then I might take that nap Doc suggested.”

Jonah patted her on the shoulder. “You do that, miss. I’ll come back by later this afternoon, and if your pa’s feeling up to it, I’ll give him the details he wants about the ranch.” Turning, he walked down the street.

Her gaze followed him for a moment before she looked at Wyatt. “Good day, Marshal.” She walked toward the corner of the house where Mrs. Kilburn’s well-nurtured flower garden began.

“My name is Wyatt. Do you think you could use it instead of Marshal?”

As soon as he uttered the words, he wondered why it even mattered and half wished he’d left well enough alone. When she continued to walk away without responding, though, the silent challenge was too strong to ignore. “I could order you to use my name.”

She paused and glanced over her shoulder at him. Was she trying not to smile?

“You could try—” she started walking away again “—but it wouldn’t work.”

“Hmm… Then I’ll have to come up with something else. But…Miss McIsaac?”

This time when she stopped, she turned to face him squarely. “Yes,
Marshal?
” She threw the gauntlet with a bland inquisitiveness that failed to mask completely the glint in her darkened eyes.

Wyatt accepted the challenge, throwing down his own gauntlet. “I won’t
order
you to use my name, but make no doubt about it…you
will
use my name!”

* * *

Meri never made it back to her room for a nap after Jonah and the marshal departed. All vestiges of weariness had vanished as swiftly as the lawman after his self-confident pronouncement. She prowled the garden oblivious to the beauty of new green leaves and tender buds, arguing with the man in her thoughts.

Of all the egotistical… If he thinks he can make me call him by his first name, he’s got a disappointment coming. I refuse to give the gossips of this town one more reason to discuss me. I will not give them the satisfaction!

She ruthlessly quashed the little thrill of longing that accompanied the thought of having her name coupled with his.

The only reason he’s interested in you, Meri McIsaac, is because Faither was involved in the holdup and because—
she groaned, remembering—
because you probably pricked at his ego with your refusal to use his name.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like his name. She did—there, she’d admitted it—but using his name felt too informal, too…intimate, as if she was letting him get too close. She needed to keep him at arm’s length, so when he lost his interest in her and moved on to someone prettier and more feminine, it wouldn’t matter.

Before long someone would kindly inform him that Miss McIsaac was more interested in working cattle and riding her horse, Sandy, than in sewing a fine stitch and filling her hope chest. They’d shake their heads in laughing pity and observe that at the ripe old age of nearly thirty, she had never entertained any serious suitors and likely never would.

All of which was true, but anytime Meri overheard such comments, they made her feel like the local oddity. She could only imagine how those remarks, coming from a smiling, eyelash-batting, oh-so-willing-to-please female, would sound to the handsome marshal. Meri shook her head. No. She
wouldn’t
imagine it.

Besides, the
only
interest I have in him is whether he finds the man that tried to kill my father or not. And I hope Faither heals quickly so we can go home. Once we’re back on the ranch, life will get back to normal, and I’ll stop worrying about what everyone else thinks.

“That’s a fierce look. Do you not like roses?” Mrs. Kilburn’s amused tone interrupted Meri’s mental rant.

She turned away from the glossy bush just erupting in tiny buds she’d apparently been glaring at. “I
do
like roses, but I’m afraid I was quite lost in my thoughts.”

“From the look on your face, they weren’t pleasant. Are you worried about your father? He’s doing remarkably well today, and Doc says he doesn’t see any reason he won’t have a full recovery.”

“I think the week is just catching up to me.” Meri evaded the question.

Mrs. Kilburn laced her arm through Meri’s and led her through the back door into the kitchen. “What you need is some food. Come on in, I have lunch ready.”

Inside Meri found a tray prepared for herself and her father. Mr. McIsaac was less than impressed, however, when he realized his lunch consisted of a light broth, toast and glass of milk.

“Dr. Kilburn says you can have something a little more substantial tomorrow if your stomach handles this okay. It has been empty for several days, and it’ll be best not to overwhelm it just when you’re starting to feel better. Now, do you want me to feed you?”

“Allow me the dignity of feeding meself, even if it is a paltry excuse of a meal,” Ian said scornfully, carefully spooning broth into his mouth. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a thick steak!” he moaned, eyeing Meri’s thick sandwich.

Meri grinned at his antics but quickly sobered. “Did we lose an awful lot in the robbery, Faither?”

“We lost some, but ye know I never trusted all me money to the bank. I only kept a small amount there to stay on good terms with Mr. Samuels. I’ve never let anyone except yer mither know how much we managed to save back and that includes the banker. I’m sorry the bank was robbed at all, but it didn’t surprise our Heavenly Father. Savings or no savings, He’s always taken care of us and always will, so don’t worry over what we did or didn’t lose. Our treasure is in Heaven, not some safe or bank down here.”

They discussed the ranch and what had happened while he was unconscious as they ate. Gathering up the dishes when they’d finished, Meri noticed her father was drooping a little. “Why don’t you close your eyes and rest so you’ll be ready when Jonah drops in. I think I’ll go check on Sandy.”

He argued, but there wasn’t much effort in the argument, and she left the room carrying the tray of dishes. After washing up the lunch things, she went into her room and changed from the blue skirt she’d donned earlier into her tan split riding skirt. Slipping a dark, buttery-soft leather vest over the yellow calico blouse, she grabbed her hat and hurried to Franks’s Livery.

As she neared the stables, she heard Franks’s rich, deep voice raised in song, the sound rumbling pleasingly through the air.

His singing halted as he greeted her warmly. “Miss Meri! I hear de Lawd has answered our prayers!” Sitting down on a bench against the wall, Meri filled him in on the doctor’s prognosis and Franks’s wide grin split his face. “It be a day ta praise de Lawd for his mah’vlous goodness ta man!”

A weak smile and nod was Meri’s only reply.

“You is mighty quiet for someone who should be rejoicin’. Is yo thankful bone broke?”

“I am very thankful God heard the prayers of you and the men who prayed for my father and that he’s doing so much better.” Meri squirmed under Franks’s penetrating gaze.

“What ‘bout yo prayers?”

Meri shrugged her shoulders. “It feels like my prayers aren’t heard anymore, like there’s something in the way.”

“Honey chil’! Yo Heavenly Father promised never ta leave or fo’sake you! If dere’s sumpin’ in de way, it ain’t on his end!”

Meri felt the familiar ache in her throat return. “I feel like I’ve been forsaken.”

“Mmm-hmm, evah since yo momma died, I reckon. You put on a good show and mos’ likely fooled ever’one, but I’se noticed the joy and peace in yo eyes been missin’ fo’ some time now.”

Meri fired up at the gentle rebuke. “How am I supposed to have joy and peace when Mither died so suddenly, and then I almost lose Faither?”

Franks shook his head sadly. “Joy and peace ain’t foun’ in yo circumstances, they is foun’ in God’s promises.” Franks bowed his head all of a sudden, leaving Meri staring at him. “Lawd, You know dis chil’ is hurtin’. Open her eyes ta what needs fixin’ so You can heal de hurt. Amen.” He stood abruptly. “Now go see dat spoiled pony. He been a hollerin’ for you all day.”

Meri frowned as he returned to his forge and stirred the coals. She loved the man dearly, but she was a little miffed at his scolding.
I’m hurting and somehow it’s my fault?

She drew a deep breath to calm herself. She’d never been angry with Franks before.
You do have a problem if you’re getting upset with Franks!

She stood and went outside to Sandy. The palomino saw her coming, whinnied deeply and ran for the gate. At least someone was glad to see her. She slid through the fence and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his mane and breathing deeply of his horsey scent, of fresh air, sweet grass and hay. After several moments she led him to the barn and saddled him, feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders. Scolding herself for her poor attitude, she mounted Sandy and called over her shoulder to Franks, “We’ll be back later.”

“Be careful.”

With a short nod she rode out of the barn. Detouring to Doc’s place and finding her father still asleep, she retrieved her guns. Sheathing the carbine in the saddle scabbard, she strapped the cartridge belt and pistol she’d brought back from the ranch around her slim waist. She’d lived in the West long enough to know it was wise to have protection from four-legged and two-legged varmints even if she was only going to be on the outskirts of town.

Her father had long ago ensured she was proficient with firearms, giving her the .44-40 Winchester carbine, sometimes called the Saddle carbine, several years ago for her birthday. It was four inches shorter than the regular .44-40 Winchester rifle and made for a lighter, more compact gun for her to handle. The rifle and the pistol Meri carried on her hip were chambered for the same rounds, therefore the extra cartridges she carried in her belt would fit either gun. Altogether, Meri felt very capable of protecting herself from any threat.

Swinging up aboard the pretty palomino, she took the long way to the cemetery, circling the outside edge of town. Maybe by the time she reached it she would have worked up the nerve to go in. Meri kept Sandy at a sedate walk, waving at a few townsfolk who called out as she passed. All too soon, she reached the waist-high wrought-iron gate in the fence that lined the front edge of the burial grounds. Dismounting, she reached for the latch then let her hand fall back to her side.

She’d put this off so long it had become a monster she couldn’t face. She should’ve made herself come with Faither when the headstone was set, but at the time, her cold was too convenient an excuse.

Sandy shoved his nose against her back, giving her a hard nudge. “I just can’t do it, Sandy.” The horse snorted and shook his head, setting his bridle to jingling. “I know. I’m a coward, but let’s get out of here.”

Remounting, she escaped into the hills behind the cemetery. There was a place nearby conducive to a full-out gallop without danger of running over someone on the road or running her horse into a hole and Meri took full advantage it. After an hour of riding, though, she felt only marginally better. A long, solitary ride, the joy of a smooth-moving horse, the wind in her hair and the beautiful countryside had always been the cure-all for anything bothering her, but the remedy was sorely lacking today.

Meri berated herself. She should be feeling at least a small portion of the joy and peace Franks mentioned earlier, if only for the fact that her father was now on the mend. Why was she still feeling completely out of sorts? And why did her thoughts keep straying to a certain star-toting man? Maybe when she got out of town and back to normal ranch life, her unsettled emotions would straighten out. For now she’d just have to live with them.