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

bridge, the horse’s hooves clopping while Jo mentally went over the alibi she’d given to the marshal the other day. She only hoped she would remember it correctly if he asked about it again.
    Once the buggy rolled off the edge of the bridge, the ride grew rougher. Jo hugged her arm to her chest to keep her sore bones from knocking into each other.
    “You okay?” the marshal asked, then they leaped over another bump.
    “Ouch! I’m fine.”
    He bounced toward her and his knee touched hers. She felt a keen awareness of it and slid away.
    “I could slow down,” he offered.
    Going slower meant spending more time with him in this confined space, and she wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. “I told you, I could have walked. And slowing down won’t make the ruts in the road go away. Why don’t you stop and let me out?”
    “I don’t think that would be wise, ma’am.”
    “You can follow along behind if you like.”
    “It’s a long way.”
    “I know how far it is. I’ll be fine. I feel wonderful right now.” They bounced one more time and she winced noticeably. “Except for the bumps.”
    He drove another few yards, then pulled the lumbering horse to a halt with a gently spoken “whoa.” They were surrounded by hundreds of longhorn cattle, idly grazing. The horse nickered and shook beneath the harness.
    “You don’t want to talk to me, do you?” Marshal Collins said, all too perceptively.
    “Where would you get such a notion? I simply prefer to walk, that’s all.”
    He stared at her a moment, his eyes calculating. “All right. You can walk if it’s easier for you. I’ll drive behind in case you get tired, but don’t overdo it.”
    “I won’t get tired.” She tried to step down, but had some difficulty holding on to the thin steel rail. Before she knew it, the marshal appeared with his hands around her waist. Her insides did a flip as he lowered her to the ground, her calico skirts billowing upon the wind. He remained there looking down at her for a moment.
    “Thank you,” she said politely, staring at the short, stubbly grass with the pretext of examining the toe of her boot, all the while relieved that she could hide her eyes beneath the brim of her sunbonnet.
    “You’re welcome. Just watch where you’re walking and don’t hesitate to get back in the buggy if you feel ill. You’ve been through a lot.”
    Stepping back out of his arms, she struggled to gloss over the awkward feeling that was niggling at her, telling herself that she had merely imagined he was looking at her lips just now.
    “There’s a cow about to sniff your boots,” Jo said, more than grateful for the distraction.
    Marshal Collins turned. “Go on now. Go back to your herd.”
    The animal shifted direction and plodded away without argument, and by the time the marshal turned to face her again, Jo had started walking. “Let’s get going before we become fodder.”
    She didn’t let herself look back. She only listened to the sound of the buggy’s springs bouncing and squeaking, then the horse’s hooves thumping over the grassy road. Marshal Collins was following along behind her and that was just fine as far as she was concerned. At least they didn’t have to talk to each other, and she didn’t have to make a fool of herself answering any more of his prying questions.

Chapter Six

    Not far to go now , Jo thought wearily as she forced one foot in front of the other along the narrow prairie road, the wind blowing her bonnet ribbons every which way. She couldn’t wait to get home, rid herself of these heavy clothes and collapse onto her soft bed to sleep.
    She just had to make it the rest of the way. She’d walked at least two-and-a-half miles and the marshal hadn’t asked her any more questions, thank heavens. He simply drove behind her—but she could feel him staring—and he hadn’t made a peep except when he clicked his tongue at the horse.
    With a dizzying sense of apprehension, Jo eyed the next hill.