The Marshal's Promise. Rhonda Gibson. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Rhonda Gibson
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Исторические любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781408981184
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head again. Jesse hadn’t even carried a gun. What had he been doing robbing a bank with no gun?

       Guilt slammed into Seth’s gut. He’d shot down an unarmed man. Never had he felt the gravity of being a U.S. Marshal as strongly as he did now. The law was behind him, but he still felt as if a small part of his own soul had been ripped from his body the day Jesse Cole died. No matter how many times he played the events of that day in his mind, it came out the same. He’d killed an unarmed man, he’d killed Jesse Cole.

       Thankfully the Vaughan orchard came into view. He shook his head and muttered, “I need to stop dwelling on it. Jesse is gone and there’s nothing I can do about it now.” Seth gave a little kick of his boots against the horse’s sides and sent it into a trot. It was time to go tell Mr. Vaughan that his hired hand wasn’t coming home.

       He rode into the front yard. Two big hounds came to greet him with loud barks and yips. Mrs. Vaughan waved from the front porch and Mr. Vaughan walked out of the barn to meet him.

       “Afternoon, Marshal. What brings you out this way?”

       Seth slid from his mount. “Bad news, I’m afraid. Jesse Cole got himself shot up last week. Didn’t make it. He won’t be returning to work.”

       Mr. Vaughan took his hat off and wiped at the sweat on his brow. “I’m sorry to hear that. He was a good man.”

       “So it would seem,” Seth agreed.

       “Mind telling me what happened?” The old man slapped the hat back on his gray head and indicated Seth should follow him to the bunkhouse.

       Seth fell into step with him. “He was present during a bank robbery over in Durango last week. One of the Evans gang took a shot at me and things got out of hand. Jesse got caught in the cross fire.”

       Mr. Vaughan pulled the door open and walked to one of three bunks in the one-room building. “I see.”

       Seth pressed on, trying to explain away his own feelings of guilt for having shot Jesse. “I’m afraid he was running with the Evans boys again. They were the ones hightailing it out of Durango with a bag full of money.” He didn’t feel the need to tell Mr. Vaughan that Jesse hadn’t been carrying a gun when he was shot. That fact still bothered him. Instead Seth asked, “Did Jesse say where he was going when he left here?”

       “No, just said he had some unfinished business and that he’d be back in a couple of days.” He pulled a suitcase out from under a bunk that Seth assumed was Jesse’s. “I thought he’d gone into town to see about buying the Porters’ place. Had no idea he was running with the Evanses again.” He grunted as he lifted the case for Seth to take. “These are his belongings. Feels like this thing is filled with rocks. He also has some clothes lying around here, too. Do you want those?”

       Seth shook his head.

       “Do you know if he has any family we can give this to?”

       Seth took the heavy case and shook his head again. He frowned at the weight of the container. “I don’t think he does, but there is a young woman in town that might. I’ll ask her.”

       Mr. Vaughan nodded and followed Seth from the bunkhouse. “It’s too bad.” He muttered more to himself than to Seth. “I really liked that boy. He was real excited when that gal answered his mail-order-bride ad, too.”

       They walked back to where Seth’s horse waited. Seth set the suitcase onto the saddle and then swung up behind it. So Rebecca Ramsey was a mail-order bride. He’d heard of women answering those ads, just never figured he’d meet one way out here in the New Mexico Territory.

       Seth arranged the case in front of him, before saying, “I’d like to keep this as private as we can. His mail-order bride arrived last week and, well, I’d just as soon she not be told what happened to him.” He paused and shook his head. “Honestly, I’m not sure I know what happened. I’d like to think Jesse was there against his will.”

       Mr. Vaughan took his hat off and twisted the brim. “All I know, Marshal, is the poor boy seemed to have got caught in some cross fire and was shot in Durango.” He shook his head and looked at the ground. “Poor boy was at the wrong place, at the wrong time.” He looked back up.

       Seth nodded. “Thanks.”

       “Do you know if his lady will be staying in Cottonwood Springs or moving on?” He shielded his face from the sun as he looked up at Seth.

       Seth had wondered the same thing. “Don’t know yet.” He waved and headed back to town. His thoughts turned to what Mr. Vaughan had said.

       Had Jesse been heading to town to buy a place and get married? Or had he met up with the Evanses with the purpose of robbing the bank to secure a better future for his new bride? Seth could still see the fear and concern in Jesse’s face for Rebecca’s safety.

       As the horse lumbered back to town, his thoughts turned to the pretty young woman who had come to town to marry Jesse. Her eyes had done something to his heart that only one other woman’s eyes had ever done.

      Remember she was killed because of your job, Billings. How could he forget? He couldn’t. And because of Clare’s death, Seth vowed never to love another again. His job and her meekness had gotten her killed. Nope, he wasn’t going to fall in love again, at least not until he was done with marshaling. He doubted any woman would wait for him that long.

       Rebecca Ramsey’s heart-shaped face filled his mind’s eye. No, Seth Billings had no intentions of hurting or being hurt by another woman because of his career. A career he felt sure God approved of. Lord, please help me to fulfill my last promise to 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