Tempting the Marshal: (A Western Historical Romance) (Dodge City Brides Series Book 2) by Julianne MacLean Read Free Book Online

would you want to do that?”
    “Maybe I enjoy your conversation.”
    Mrs. Eisenbein’s playful gaze flicked up at Jo.
    “What is it that you want to discuss with me?” Jo asked pointedly. “Whatever it is, you can ask me now.”
    “There’s nothing to discuss. I just want to see that you get home safely. Mrs. Honeyworth isn’t coming, and your ranch is four miles outside of town, I hear. That’s at least an hour’s walk and it’s powerful hot out there. Not a good risk in your condition.”
    “Thank you, but it’s not necessary. I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”
    “On the contrary, it would trouble me if you refused.” His eyes darkened with a cast-iron message that Jo understood all too clearly. He could see through her charade and he wanted to knock her off balance. Get her to say something incriminating.
    She set her cup and saucer on the side table and looked to Mrs. Eisenbein for help, but the woman lowered her gaze and began to gather up the tray.
    “Something tells me you won’t take no for an answer,” Jo said to the marshal.
    “Something tells me you’re right.”
    She stared at him, considering her options. If she refused, he’d become even more suspicious than he was already, and probably follow her to the privy. But if she said yes, she’d have to leave her bag there for another day.
    Without waiting for her response, the marshal backed into the hall. “I’ll go get that buggy and fetch the doctor.” He placed his hat on his head and disappeared from sight, the rhythmic sound of his boots lingering on the surface of Jo’s frayed consciousness.
    “That was kind of the marshal, don’t you think?” Mrs. Eisenbein said, the dishes clinking on her tray as she stood.
    But Jo knew with plunging hopes that the marshal’s offer had nothing to do with kindness.
    * * *
    After the doctor came to the room and checked Jo’s wound for infection, Mrs. Eisenbein entered with Jo’s laundered gown and helped her slip into it. A few minutes later, Jo was at last being escorted down the hall to the front office.
    While she arranged payment, the door squeaked open and the distinctive rhythm of the marshal’s heavy boots rattled her nerves as he came up behind her. “All set to go, Mrs. O’Malley?”
    She faced him. “Yes, but it really isn’t necessary for you to take me. I’m perfectly capable of walking. I do it all the time.”
    “Not with a bullet hole in your shoulder.”
    “The marshal’s right,” Dr. Green said. “No sense taking chances. It’s best to have someone with you, in case anything happens.”
    Marshal Collins settled his hat onto his head. “There, you see?”
    Why did he have to be right all the time?
    They walked onto the sunny porch and the marshal took her elbow as she descended the stairs. Feeling the stability of that hand on her arm only made her more uneasy, but she fought the urge to pull away. She had no choice but to allow him to assist her. Any hostile behavior might alert him to her apprehensive feelings, and she had to keep a calm head if she wanted him to leave her alone long enough to retrieve her bag from the privy. She only hoped it would remain there untouched until she could return for it.
    “Careful now,” the marshal said, helping her into a black canopied buggy with a shiny red seat. The leather creaked as she slid across. “It’s been a while since I’ve driven one of these.” He climbed in beside her and gently flicked the long leather reins. “I’m usually in a saddle.” The buggy lurched forward and the harness jingled as the horse flicked his ears at the flies hovering around his head.
    They rolled smoothly down Front Street in silence, the round buggy wheels grinding two straight tracks down the dusty street. The marshal paid the fare to cross the toll bridge over the river, then they drove onto it and faced the wide-open prairie, speckled with longhorn cattle as far as the eye could see. The buggy wheels rattled over the wooden