grade too. Same as what you’ve been using. Come early tomorrow morning, before I open, and we’ll work out the details.”
McKenna left the livery smiling— really smiling, for the first time in a long time, her steps lighter than when she’d first stepped inside. She swung into the saddle and Janie’s palomino pranced beneath her, spirited and eager. McKenna reached down and rubbed the horse’s neck. “Atta girl,” she whispered, appreciating her enthusiasm. Casey Trenton had said yes! She had a job! Robert did too! Which meant an income, a livelihood. They were one step closer to having some stability to their lives again.
If only Janie were still here—to share the news . . .
McKenna reached the corner of the crowded thoroughfare and reined in to let a line of loaded freight wagons pass. She stared upward into a sky so rich in blue it almost didn’t seem real and hoped Janie knew she was doing her best. I won’t let you down, Janie.
The reminder of her promised meeting with Mr. Billings interrupted the moment, and McKenna’s exuberance swiftly found its footing. She’d promised Mr. Billings a visit to his office, and though she wasn’t looking forward to it, the meeting was inevitable. Best get it over with and discover the reason behind his insistence that she come by.
With a sigh, she gave Patch a gentle nudge, then sharply reined in. “Marshal Caradon!”
There he was,
directly in her path, astride his mare. She’d nearly run into him. The prisoner from the other night Slater, if she remembered correctly—was on horseback behind him, bound at the wrists, oddly stoic. A fresh bruise marked his right cheek, and she could well imagine who had administered it.
Gripping the reins to both mounts, Caradon lightly touched the rim of his hat, his expression inscrutable. “Morning, Miss Ashford.”
If ever someone’s gaze felt intimate, his did. She felt as if she could read his thoughts, and a warm blush crept from her chest up into her face. It had been a long time since she’d welcomed a man’s attention, much less encouraged it. She couldn’t deny her attraction to him. And though she’d done her best to hide it in recent days, she had the feeling he knew. Perhaps if circumstances were different, if she didn’t have the responsibilities she had, if he didn’t work for the U.S. Marshals Office, she might have been more open to the idea. But as it was, she was relieved he wasn’t staying in Copper Creek.
“You’re leaving town, Marshal Caradon?”
His eyes took on a gleam. “No need to sound so broken up over it, ma’am.”
Slightly embarrassed at her transparency, she attempted to cover it with a laugh. “Not at all. I was simply making an observation.”
Wordless, his look said, Sure you were.
Tugging at the rope encircling his wrists, Slater kept quiet. Still, McKenna sensed a danger about him and hoped Caradon would be careful. Then again, looking at Marshal Caradon and at the bruise purpling Slater’s right cheek, Slater would do well to be on his best behavior.
Her mare sidestepped and whinnied. McKenna tightened her grip on the reins. “Well, I—”
“Well, I—”
She and Caradon had spoken at the same time, and she smiled.
His eyes narrowed the slightest bit and his slow-coming smile made it impossible for her to swallow without deliberate concentration. Marshal Wyatt Caradon was a man women noticed, as evidenced by the number of females staring at him as they passed by on the boardwalk. He had a commanding presence about him that went beyond his build or his badge. And having spent time with him, McKenna suspected he was as good-natured a man as he was handsome. But even that wasn’t enough to tempt her.
Even good-natured men made mistakes that others ended up paying for. Sometimes for a lifetime.
“Well, I’d better be going,” she said. “I have an appointment this morning. Do take care of yourself, Marshal Caradon.”
“You do the same . . . Miss
McKenna left the livery smiling— really smiling, for the first time in a long time, her steps lighter than when she’d first stepped inside. She swung into the saddle and Janie’s palomino pranced beneath her, spirited and eager. McKenna reached down and rubbed the horse’s neck. “Atta girl,” she whispered, appreciating her enthusiasm. Casey Trenton had said yes! She had a job! Robert did too! Which meant an income, a livelihood. They were one step closer to having some stability to their lives again.
If only Janie were still here—to share the news . . .
McKenna reached the corner of the crowded thoroughfare and reined in to let a line of loaded freight wagons pass. She stared upward into a sky so rich in blue it almost didn’t seem real and hoped Janie knew she was doing her best. I won’t let you down, Janie.
The reminder of her promised meeting with Mr. Billings interrupted the moment, and McKenna’s exuberance swiftly found its footing. She’d promised Mr. Billings a visit to his office, and though she wasn’t looking forward to it, the meeting was inevitable. Best get it over with and discover the reason behind his insistence that she come by.
With a sigh, she gave Patch a gentle nudge, then sharply reined in. “Marshal Caradon!”
There he was,
directly in her path, astride his mare. She’d nearly run into him. The prisoner from the other night Slater, if she remembered correctly—was on horseback behind him, bound at the wrists, oddly stoic. A fresh bruise marked his right cheek, and she could well imagine who had administered it.
Gripping the reins to both mounts, Caradon lightly touched the rim of his hat, his expression inscrutable. “Morning, Miss Ashford.”
If ever someone’s gaze felt intimate, his did. She felt as if she could read his thoughts, and a warm blush crept from her chest up into her face. It had been a long time since she’d welcomed a man’s attention, much less encouraged it. She couldn’t deny her attraction to him. And though she’d done her best to hide it in recent days, she had the feeling he knew. Perhaps if circumstances were different, if she didn’t have the responsibilities she had, if he didn’t work for the U.S. Marshals Office, she might have been more open to the idea. But as it was, she was relieved he wasn’t staying in Copper Creek.
“You’re leaving town, Marshal Caradon?”
His eyes took on a gleam. “No need to sound so broken up over it, ma’am.”
Slightly embarrassed at her transparency, she attempted to cover it with a laugh. “Not at all. I was simply making an observation.”
Wordless, his look said, Sure you were.
Tugging at the rope encircling his wrists, Slater kept quiet. Still, McKenna sensed a danger about him and hoped Caradon would be careful. Then again, looking at Marshal Caradon and at the bruise purpling Slater’s right cheek, Slater would do well to be on his best behavior.
Her mare sidestepped and whinnied. McKenna tightened her grip on the reins. “Well, I—”
“Well, I—”
She and Caradon had spoken at the same time, and she smiled.
His eyes narrowed the slightest bit and his slow-coming smile made it impossible for her to swallow without deliberate concentration. Marshal Wyatt Caradon was a man women noticed, as evidenced by the number of females staring at him as they passed by on the boardwalk. He had a commanding presence about him that went beyond his build or his badge. And having spent time with him, McKenna suspected he was as good-natured a man as he was handsome. But even that wasn’t enough to tempt her.
Even good-natured men made mistakes that others ended up paying for. Sometimes for a lifetime.
“Well, I’d better be going,” she said. “I have an appointment this morning. Do take care of yourself, Marshal Caradon.”
“You do the same . . . Miss
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