Jesse and help me to overcome this pressing guilt of killing an unarmed man. And if it be Your will, keep Rebecca Ramsey far from me. I don’t want to see her hurt.
Chapter Two
Rebecca stepped into her favorite blue dress and buttoned up the front. She pulled on her shoes and hurried to get her hair fixed just right. Her fingers worked the hair into a French braid and she eased small strands forward to frame her face.
Today she would look for employment. The night before, she’d talked to the Millers and assured them she would pay for the days she’d stayed with them. They’d been kind and offered to let her stay as long as she needed. For this, Rebecca was thankful to the Lord.
She walked to the dining room and stopped just inside the doorway. The fragrance of eggs, bacon and hot biscuits greeted her. Rebecca ignored the sound of her stomach as she made her way into the room. Mrs. Miller and the marshal were seated at the table. He held a cup of fresh coffee in his hand. When Mrs. Miller saw her, she motioned for Rebecca to join them.
“Good morning, Rebecca. The marshal has come to see you.”
Rebecca acknowledged them with a nod of her head. “Good morning.”
Mrs. Miller indicated that Rebecca sit with a sweep of her hand. The heavyset woman braced her hands on the table to push back her chair and stand. “Would you like some coffee and eggs?”
Rebecca slipped into the wooden chair. “Just coffee this morning, thank you.” She had decided the night before not to eat any more than she had to until she could repay the Millers what she owed them.
“I’ll be right back. You two carry on with your business.” Mrs. Miller lumbered out of the room.
What business did the marshal have with her? Had she done something wrong? Rebecca shook the thought away. No. It couldn’t be that. Then what? Sensing his brown eyes upon her, she folded her shaking hands on the tabletop. “What did you want to see me about this morning, Marshal?”
He lowered his cup and took a deep breath. “Yesterday I went out to where Jesse had been living and let his boss know he wouldn’t be returning to work.” His gaze studied her face.
She still didn’t understand why he was there. “I see.” She met his look head-on. Marshal Seth Billings was a nice-looking man. His light brown hair curved above his collar, chocolate-colored eyes looked back at her and when he spoke, a dimple winked in his left cheek.
In a soft voice, he said, “I wasn’t finished.”
Mrs. Miller returned with Rebecca’s cup of coffee. “Here you go, dear. It’s hot.” She set the cup on the table in front of her along with a small sugar bowl.
“Thank you, Mrs. Miller.” Rebecca pulled both the coffee and sugar toward her. “Please go on, Marshal.” She scooped two teaspoons of sugar into her cup.
“If you two will excuse me, I’ve work to do in the kitchen.” Mrs. Miller left without waiting for their answers.
“As I was saying, while I was out there, Mr. Vaughan gave me some of Jesse’s personal belongings. The sheriff and I have gone through them and there are a couple of things we thought you might like to have, Miss Ramsey.” He picked up his coffee and took a sip.
The marshal continued to study her over the rim of the cup. His eyes bored into her as if searching for something. Rebecca ignored his look. She focused on her coffee instead as her mind raced.
What could he possess of Jesse’s that she might like to have? His letters from her? Maybe. A family Bible? But wouldn’t that go to his family? The Bible, not the letters, she mentally corrected herself.
When it became apparent he was waiting for a reaction from her, heat began to fill Rebecca’s face. She set her cup down and asked, “What sort of belongings?”
The marshal reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a small bundle of letters. When he handed them to her, Rebecca recognized her handwriting on the outside of the envelopes.
Had he read them? She searched his eyes for the answer. He held her gaze, but she couldn’t read their expression. Now her face felt on fire. She prayed he hadn’t read them. “Thank you.” She laid the bundle on the table and reached for her drink.
“There’s more.” The marshal reached into the other side of his jacket and pulled out another envelope. He handed it to her.
She didn’t recognize this one. Rebecca turned the plain white envelope over in her hands. “Are you sure? I didn’t send this one to him.”
The marshal raised his head and nodded. “Yes. I think you should have it.”
Rebecca ran her fingertips over the seal. “What about his family?”
“Jesse moved here six years ago. During that time he never mentioned family, so since you were to be his wife, the sheriff and I decided you should receive that, as well.” He nodded his head in the direction of her hands and grinned.
He’d discussed this with the local sheriff? “What’s in here?” Her hands trembled. Was she really ready to take whatever was inside the envelope? Was it a deed to the farm he had talked about in his last letter?
A warm chuckle brought her attention back to the marshal’s face. A woman could get used to the sound of his easy laugh and handsome features; she jerked her mind away from such foolish thoughts.
His eyes twinkled. “Why don’t you open it and find out?”
Rebecca’s mouth dried, she picked up her coffee and sipped the bitter sweetness, allowing it to wash over her tongue. Then she took a deep breath and slid her fingernail under the envelope flap.
Within the depths of the envelope lay a letter. She pulled it out and carefully unfolded what she saw to be a blank piece of paper. Hidden within the paper were money notes. She counted the money and realized there was enough there to pay the Millers for the time she’d spent with them and she’d have a little left over to stay for maybe a month longer. Rebecca silently thanked the Lord for meeting her needs.
“Are you sure it’s all right for me to keep this?” She searched his features once more. His eyes were serious; the chocolate color that had just twinkled with amusement now seemed almost to caramelize as he stared back at her.
He nodded and then finished his coffee. “That money was in his possessions. I’m sure he’d want you to have it. I’d say there is enough money there to take you home, Miss Ramsey.”
Rebecca shook her head. “No, it’s enough to pay the Millers what I owe them. And, I’ve already told you, I’m not going back.”
He stood. “So you are determined to stay here?”
How many ways did she have to say she was staying? She looked up from the money. Then she felt it. Something wasn’t quite right, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. Did the marshal suspect her of some wrongdoing? Or was this just his normal way of dealing with what he might consider a grieving fiancée?
Rebecca stared at the handsome man before her. His jawline tightened and his eyes narrowed. She raised her chin and returned his stare. “Yes,
