Page 6 of Conveniently Wed
“It’s that one,” the matron said, pointing a shaking finger in Fran’s direction. “She pretended to be an underage orphan. She used the resources set aside for those in need and defrauded us.”
Yes. She guessed she had done all that. But it wasn’t as if she had had any other choice.
The sheriff looked a bit skeptical. “Circuit judge is in town today. Let’s see what he says afore we do anything else. You boys take them on for me, all right?”
Fran patted the special inside pocket she’d sewn into the drab frock the orphanage had given her. The crinkle of paper—her baptismal certificate that was her proof of identity—reassured her. She would face what she had to.
Emma’s safety was paramount. Fran squeezed her sister, who looked more than a little worried, and followed the men on foot.
And they still had a chance. If she could locate this Jonas White she’d heard about, perhaps he would help.
“Howdy, miss.”
The two younger men came along either side of Fran and Emma, smiling widely as if they hadn’t just heard the accusation against her.
The closest one was a few years younger than the mountain man, closer to her own age. With smiling brown eyes and brown curls peeking from beneath his hat, he seemed the complete opposite of the gruff cowboy.
The one she was still intensely aware of as he strode several paces ahead, seeming to ignore them.
“Name’s Seb. That’s Edgar.” He nodded toward the blond cowboy.
Edgar. An ordinary name for such an intense, enigmatic man.
“And I’m Matty.” The second younger cowboy tipped his Stetson from Emma’s opposite side. He was blond as well, but she could only see a hint of his curls beneath his hat. His brown eyes sparkled.
And still she felt a pull, some unusual sort of draw from deep in her midsection, toward the first man.
“I’m Fran Morris. My sister, Emma.”
Both cowboys doffed their hats. “Nice to meet ya, ladies.”
She couldn’t help but notice that the unkempt cowboy continued to ignore them.
“You’ll have to forgive our brother.” Matty followed her gaze and nodded to the taller man ahead. “He don’t get off the ranch much and forgets how to talk to women.”
They were brothers?
Beside her, Seb guffawed. She caught a glimpse of Edgar’s profile. Above his beard, his skin had reddened. Was it from the sun? Or could he be embarrassed by his brothers’ words?
She glanced away, unsure.
There were mountains in the far distance, but only prairie surrounded them. It was almost frightening in its barrenness. Especially if someone was following them—she imagined one could see a far distance on these plains, and she felt bare and conspicuous out in the open.
“How far is it to Bear Creek?” she asked.
“Bout a quarter mile.” Seb’s smile was as easy and natural as the rest of him.
Fran sent a reassuring smile to Emma, but her sister remained pale, withdrawn from the conversation. Fearful.
“Do you know how the train derailed? Is that a normal occurrence?” Fran asked, trying to distract herself from worries over her sister.
Emma had remained near-silent since they’d left the Girls’ Academy in the dead of night. She’d barely spoken to Fran. How could she prove to Emma that she could keep them safe, when the plan she’d hastily concocted was unraveling around them?
Both near cowboys shrugged, but it was Matty who spoke. “Never seen it happen before. Got a glimpse of the broken tracks, but I don’t know for sure what caused it. Could’ve been some kind of sinkhole.”
Edgar looked over his shoulder at them. Or perhaps just at his brothers. His gaze seemed to skip right over Fran as if she didn’t exist.
She couldn’t understand it. They’d seemed to share a moment on top of the displaced train. Then the matron had started harping on Fran and she’d known her slight untruth had been discovered, but why would the man turn cold just because of that?
