The Marshal's Rebellious Bride by Starla Kaye

Humiliating. Flat out stupid.
    She lifted her gaze to meet his and the smile slipped
away. “Don’t let me keep you.”
    He jerked out of his state of foolishness and pulled
up into the saddle. “Are you going into town today? That dressmaker said you
needed to get fitted for a gown as soon as possible.”
    “I’m going into town today, yes.” When he glanced in
her direction, he caught the spark of fire in her green eyes. “ Not to get fitted for a dress I don’t
intend to wear.”
    The most obstinate female in the whole world, that’s
what she was. “Then why are you going to town?”
    She put her hands on her small hips and said, “Not
that it’s any of your business, but
I’m going to visit a couple of my friends at Varieties.”
    “The dance hall?” he asked, looking sharply at her in
disapproval. “A lady shouldn’t be going into a place like that.”
    The mule nudged her from behind with his nose. She
shoved him away with a, “Stop that.” Then she faced him again. “I suppose you
also think a lady shouldn’t go into a saloon?”
    “Course they shouldn’t.” Immediately he knew the
idiocy of that statement since her family owned a saloon and she’d spent a lot of time there. Hell, he even knew the story of how she
and her sister had earned their nicknames. The two mischievous imps had been
there with their father, who had gotten busy and left them alone unsupervised.
They’d evidently each gotten stone cold drunk drinking from a couple of bottles
they’d found behind the bar: one a bottle of whiskey, one a bottle of brandy.
Their amused brothers had come up with the names and they’d stuck.
    “Good thing I’m not a lady then. At least I’m not a lady by your definition.”
    “I didn’t…” He was losing ground here, best to shut
his mouth and head out to the range. He wouldn’t get in more trouble there.
    She turned around to pick up the brush that had
slipped from her hand. “There are just so many reasons for why we shouldn’t get
married. We don’t see eye-to-eye on most anything.”
    True enough, he supposed, but now that the idea of
marrying Whiskey had settled into him, he planned to do it. Even
if she made him nuts. Besides, he kind of looked forward to taming the
little wildcat.
    “Three weeks, Angelina. Actually nineteen days from
now.” He used her real name just to annoy her.
    “Just because you keep on harping about it doesn’t
mean its going to happen.” She didn’t even bother to
look his way, simply went back to brushing down the mule.
    Demon snorted and appeared determined to bust on
through the fence to get to her, clearly wanting some of her attention as well.
Again, he felt a twinge of jealousy. He wanted her attention, too. He was
getting right down tired of arguing with her. He reined his horse away with a
firm jerk. “You’ve got to be the most stubborn woman God ever created.”
    “Proud of it, too. Now go away. Quit bothering me and
go on about your business.”
    He held his anxious horse in place for a minute
longer. He sure didn’t like her always wanting him to go away, always telling
him they weren’t getting married. He didn’t have a lot of time for courting or
wooing or whatever a gentleman was supposed to do in order to get a woman to
marry him. He had to head back to Texas and another assignment a week after the
wedding. Unless Rafe showed up before then and the two of them had their final
showdown, one Morgan intended to win. If that happened, he’d wire his
resignation down to the U.S. Marshal’s office in Texas.
    Deciding it was best to leave before the conversation
turned even more upsetting, he reined his horse toward the ranch road. “Go to
the dressmaker and stay away from the dance hall,” he said and pushed Demon
into a trot not wanting to hear yet another refusal.
    * * *
    “I’ll take a shot of red-eye,” Whiskey stated boldly
as she walked through the batwing doors of Varieties and spotted Ham Bell
behind the bar. After