eyes closed for a second. “Why, thank you.”
He’d noticed her when he came in, seated at the other end of the room, having a biscuit and a cup of tea; Clay made it his policy to notice everybody when he walked into a room.
The lady settled into the chair across from him, taking a few minutes to adjust her skirt and shuffle her big, open straw satchel onto her lap. It was crammed full of all sorts of items, Clay noted, as every old lady’s satchel was.
“My name is Miss Matilda Wilder.” She smiled at him and touched her hand to the tiny hat nestled atop her gray head.
“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. I’m—”
She giggled softly and batted her lashes. “Oh, my, dear, I know who you are. Everyone in town knows. You’re the federal marshal sent to root out those awful outlaw gangs.”
Clay sipped at his coffee. “That’s right, Miss Wilder.”
She pulled a large flowered handkerchief from her satchel and waved it at him. “I just want to tell you how happy we are to have you in our town. It’s about time somebody did something to make our streets safe again.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Miss Wilder sat back in her chair and smiled proudly at him, as if he’d just recited a poem at the school play. She dropped her handkerchief on the table. “You’re a fine young man. I know you’ll do a good job.”
Clay couldn’t help smiling. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Miss Wilder drew in a big breath. “Well, I’ll be on my way now. I’m going to write to San ford—he’s my nephew in Memphis—and tell him all about you. He’s been after me to move down with him, and he’ll be pleased to know Eldon has a fine young man like you on the job.”
“Nice meeting you, ma’am.”
Clay rose as she got slowly to her feet, gathered up her handkerchief and stuffed it inside her satchel. She waved and shuffled away. He took his seat again, wondering if everyone in town would be as glad to have him there as Miss Matilda Wilder seemed to be. He’d find out soon enough. A lot of questions needed to be asked in this town, and he intended to start on them this morning.
Absently he reached for the saltshaker as he mentally reviewed the list of things he had planned for today. His hand came up empty, and he looked across the table to see the pepper shaker sitting alone. Clay scratched his chin. He was certain he’d seen the salt there when he sat down.
Clay shrugged and turned back to his breakfast.
Peeping through the swinging door, Kelsey watched as Clay sat back in his chair and started eating again. She hadn’t slept a wink all night, worrying about him in her hotel. She had to find out just how long he’d be in town. She had plans to make—plans that definitely did not include a federal marshal sleeping over her head.
Her best smile in place, Kelsey glided through the restaurant, refilling coffee cups, until she came to Clay’s table. He looked different in the morning sun-tight. Not cast in dim shadows, or ready to be strung up, he appeared strong and sturdy. Handsome.
“More coffee?”
He reached for his cup. The sleeve of his pale blue shirt pulled back, and Kelsey saw the rope burns on his wrists. She fought the overwhelming desire to run her fingers over the injuries and refilled his cup.
“Best meal I’ve had in weeks.” He sipped the coffee.
“The Eldon Hotel has the best cook in town.” Kel-sey shifted. “Etta Mae packs a wonderful cold meal. Could I have her fix something for you today?"He shook his head. “No need.”
“Oh?” She shifted again. “I thought you were leaving.
He lifted one wide shoulder. “No. Not today.”
“Then when?” Kelsey edged closer.
Suspicion crept over his features, and she saw his brows draw together. “In a while.”
Kelsey shrugged. “Just let me know, and I’ll be sure Etta Mae makes something special for you.”
Clay nodded slowly. “I’ll do that.”
Kelsey turned away, then whirled back to face him. “And don’t forget, I want your trousers.”
Heads turned, and she felt questioning gazes upon her. The marshall glanced around, then looked at her; a little grin tugged at his lips.
Kelsey willed herself not to blush. “Since you soiled yourself on hotel property, it’s my responsibility to pay for the cleaning.”
Nosy gazes swung to Clay, and it was all Kelsey could do to contain the smirk that threatened. He surged to his feet and crammed on his Stetson, pulling it low on his forehead. Kelsey’s gaze traveled upward. She didn’t remember him being this tall last night
“I’m flattered by your interest in my trousers, Miss Rodgers. I’ll keep your generous offer in mind.” He gave her a quick nod and left the dining room.
Kelsey plastered a smile on her face and wound her way through the tables and into the kitchen again.
The back door and windows stood open, the fresh air mingling with the smells of frying bacon and baking biscuits. Etta Mae hummed softly to herself as she flipped hotcakes on the stove.
“Kelsey honey, could you get me some more milk? We’ve got a hungry crowd this morning!”
“Yes, we do.” And thank God, Kelsey thought to herself as she placed the coffeepot on the edge of the stove. She wiped her hands on her apron and darted out the back door.
“Pssst!”
Kelsey gasped and spun around, seeing her friend a few feet away. She splayed her hand over her chest. “Mallory, you scared me to death!”
Quickly she glanced up and down the alley. “We’ve got to talk.”
“I’ll say.” Kelsey crossed the boardwalk and stood beside her. Mallory wore a dress of blue silk, with lace gloves and a matching hat—the height of fashion in New York, according to the dressmaker there who’d sent the fabric. Perhaps a bit out of place on the streets of Eldon, had it been worn by anyone but Jack Morgan’s daughter. Mallory wore her father’s wealth well.
Mallory unfurled her fan with a flick of her slender wrist. “Papa sent for the sheriff to come to the house early this morning, and I heard them talking in the study. Papa is fit to be tied over yesterday’s robbery. Fit to be tied!” Mallory giggled and tossed her head“Isn’t it wonderful?”
Kelsey pressed her palms together to stave off their trembling. “Does he have any idea—”
“That we’re the ones robbing his payroll? That you, Holly and I are the Schoolyard Boys—the thieves?”
“We’re not thieves, Mallory.” Kelsey’s expression hardened. “We’re taking back what belongs to us. Jack Morgan stole from us. If he hadn’t interfered in our lives, there would
