The Marshal's Promise. Rhonda Gibson
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Rebecca Ramsey hadn’t reacted the way he’d thought she would when she opened the envelope. Maybe she didn’t know about the rest of the money he’d found in that suitcase. And then again, maybe she did and was sticking around town to find it. What had Jesse been doing with so much money in money notes, diamonds and gold?
Was that the reason Jesse had begged him to keep watch over her? Did the Evans gang know about the stashed treasure in Jesse’s possession? Would they come after her, thinking she had it? The questions swirled through his mind like a Texas twister.
What if she really was just an innocent and had no clue Jesse had been an outlaw? Or that he was far richer than he’d let anyone know. Seth’s protective instincts surged through his stomach.
Seth admitted to himself that he found Jesse’s girl attractive. She seemed young and naive. What kind of woman ventured alone to answer a mail-order-bride ad that would take her to an isolated place like the New Mexico Territory?
He’d read her letters. They were simple letters telling Jesse her age, what she looked like and when she would arrive. She’d asked no questions of Jesse Cole. From what he’d read, it seemed as if Rebecca Ramsey had simply come with no knowledge of anything about her soon-to-be husband.
His first promise to Jesse echoed in Seth’s ears. I’ll take care of her. He tilted his head sideways and studied her. If she really was just a girl looking for work, he should help her. He’d promised, and Seth Billings never broke a promise. “What kind of work are you looking for?”
“I’m not picky, Marshal, and I’m a hard worker, so it really doesn’t matter.” She shrugged her shoulders, picked up her morning coffee and took another sip.
The blue in her dress brought out the blue shades within her eyes. Small ringlets of blond hair drifted about her face as she bent to the hot beverage. Miss Ramsey smiled as she savored the drink. Seth stared at her soft lips and then shook himself mentally. The young woman in front of him was quite attractive, but no lady liked to be stared at.
“Why? Do you know of a position?” Her question pulled him from his musings.
She gazed into his eyes as if she were looking into his soul. What did she see there? He didn’t want to know.
“I might. The sheriff and I were talking this morning and I’ve come to the conclusion that I need a house here in Cottonwood Springs.” Those cornflower eyes continued to study him. “If I find one, I’ll need someone to clean, do laundry and cook for me when I’m in town. Would you be interested in something like that?”
“When will you know if you are going to take up residence here?” Her gaze moved to his left hand.
The urge to tuck it into his pocket proved mighty powerful. He didn’t want her looking to him as a replacement for Jesse. “I’ll let you know by this afternoon. How does that sound?”
Her small smile turned into a big grin. “It sounds like something I wouldn’t mind doing.”
Seth nodded and then headed for the front door. He had a lot of work to do if he planned on having a home in Cottonwood Springs by this afternoon. The soft swish of her skirts informed him that she had followed him. “I’ll see you later,” he promised and then left.
He shook his head as he climbed into the saddle. Seth Billings, you are going to have to stop making promises.
Chapter Three
Rebecca pulled her wool shawl over her dress, picked up the money and then carried her coffee cup into the kitchen. “Mrs. Miller, I am leaving now to look for employment.” She placed the empty cup beside the older woman.
Mrs. Miller’s hands were up to her elbows in hot soapy water. A pile of dirty dishes was stacked to her left. “Your business with the marshal is finished?” She looked over at Rebecca. Mrs. Miller’s gaze moved to the envelopes in her hand.
Rebecca tucked the letters she’d sent to Jesse under her arm and then opened the packet that held the money. She turned her body so that Mrs. Miller couldn’t see the full contents of the envelope. “I’m not sure. He’s offered me a job.”
Mrs. Miller dried her wet hands on a dish towel and rested a hip against the counter. “Then why are you looking for another one?” Her brows arched as she watched Rebecca count out the money.
“Well, it’s not a for-sure job and I can’t continue living here if I can’t pay for my stay.” Rebecca knew Mrs. Miller wanted to ask her about the money. The older woman opened her mouth and then closed it again. Almost as if she realized it was none of her business.
Rebecca handed her what was owed. The other woman took the money and dropped it into her apron pocket.
“Will you be back in time for lunch?” Mrs. Miller returned to the dishpan full of dirty dishes.
Cottonwood Springs wasn’t that big of a town and Rebecca could return in plenty of time before lunch, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Mrs. Miller was nice enough, but Rebecca sensed the other woman would like to have some time to herself and, to be honest, Rebecca felt the same. “Probably not.”
“Have a good day, dear. I’ll see you at supper.” And just like that, Mrs. Miller dismissed her.
Rebecca walked to the front door, stood in the doorway and looked both ways down Main Street. The town’s dirt street and light breeze had sand drifting in the air. She focused her mind on the business in town and not the fact that she hated flying dirt.
Across the street from the Millers’ general store was the newspaper office; next to that stood Mrs. Kelly’s hat and dress shop. She studied the false fronts of both businesses. The newspaper office wouldn’t offer much employment, but maybe Mrs. Kelly could use another seamstress. She’d start with these two businesses and then make her way around town, should she not acquire employment at either establishment.
As she crossed the street, Rebecca lifted her skirts to keep them from getting dusty. A light breeze picked up from the direction of the river and she shivered. Early spring in New Mexico seemed to be rather cold. Truth be told, Rebecca preferred the heat of summer, at least she had in Maryland. Who knew what New Mexico summers would hold for her?
When she arrived at the door of Mrs. Kelly’s hat and dress shop, Rebecca hesitated. She took a deep breath, smoothed out her skirt and slowly exhaled before she entered. A little bell over the door announced her arrival.
A female voice called from the back, “I’ll be right with you. Feel free to browse around.”
Rebecca walked farther into the room. Sunlight shone through the big plate-glass window, creating a cheerful and warm environment. Colorful dresses, shawls, coats and hats took up most of the room. Toward the back, where the mysterious voice had come from, was a curtained-off doorway.
She noticed an area for sewing in the far corner. A long table and two sewing machines occupied the space. The two machines gave her hope that the other woman might need help.
A brown dress caught her eye. She walked over to it and touched the soft fabric. Its color reminded her of the marshal’s eyes. Rebecca admired the way the waist seemed to tuck inward. She took it off the hanger and held it up against her front.