Page 40 of A Secret Heart
A flock of sparrows took flight, and Mabel spooked. Rebekah barely kept her seat.
If Ed were here, she could talk to him. He’d know what to do. She slowed Mabel—no need to break her neck. She was suddenly aware of even the smallest noise in the distance.
The edge of town loomed near. She pulled back to slow Mabel as they entered the busy main street. Sweat ran between her shoulder blades from the heat, the effort of hard riding, and her nerves. Familiar faces tipped their hats or smiled in her direction. She should feel safe here. Laughter erupted from the saloon as she passed, sending her heart pounding.
She found the marshal’s office empty. Heart still racing, she glanced down the boardwalk. Was it safe to go to the newspaper office?
* * *
Ed unloaded the display case into Mrs. Wilson’s bakery.
“You’re days late, but this is a beauty.” Mrs. Wilson ran a hand along the sheaves of wheat Ed had carved into the trim.
Ed shifted a little, his throat growing dry. “I’m sorry it’s late. I’d still like to start on the table and chair set we talked about.”
“I’m not sure.” Mrs. Wilson hesitated. Her eyes darted around the room. The counter filled the wall across from the large window, the space in between just waiting for several sets of table and chairs. “I can’t hold off on serving customers because the furniture’s late. Can you guarantee a delivery date this time?”
“I can’t give you that. I’m still helping my brother run the ranch.” Everything in him ached at having to say it. Isaac hadn’t come off the mountain, and there was too much work to think of asking Drew for a break.
The woman rubbed her hand along the piece again. Stepping back, one of her children ran up to pull at her skirt.
“I’m very busy. I hope to be open by the end of July.” She bit her lip, then bent to pick up the fussing toddler. Her mouth pulled in an apologetic sort of grin. “I’m not sure I can wait if you can’t guarantee delivery. No matter how beautiful your craftsmanship.”
He nodded, throat hot. He’d known what the consequences would likely be for not delivering on time. It couldn’t be helped.
Ed walked back to his waiting wagon with the heaviness weighing hard on him. Back at the homestead, they needed to get ready to bring in the crops. Drew was trying to keep a vigilant watch on the land, rotating night duty with Ed and Nick. The extra work was wearing everyone down. Drew had been on edge this morning when Ed had pressed to come to town for the delivery.
He should be rushing home, but he lingered near the wagon. Couldn’t help looking down the street toward the newspaper office. Rebekah’s smile had grown to be a balm for him. He couldn’t stop thinking about the last letter he’d written. The one she hadn’t answered. Instead, she’d come looking for Isaac. The hurt from seeing her might break him.
A movement outside the marshal’s office grabbed his attention.
Rebekah stood at the marshal’s door, easing it shut as if in slow motion. When she turned, he caught her haggard expression. Her hair had come loose in more than one place, clinging to her neck as she ran a hand along the crinkles in her usually neat skirt. He watched her traipse down the street, though she didn’t seem to see him. Saw her bite her lip. Saw her jump like she was frightened.
Something was wrong.
His feet carried him to her before he’d thought it through.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Ed.” The relief in her voice created a thrum of protectiveness inside him.
“You all right?”
“I’m fine.” She studied his face, then dropped her eyes to her hands.
He should take a step back, but he couldn’t seem to make his feet move.
Her hand fisted in her skirt.
“Marshal O’Grady isn’t there. Or her deputies.” She acted indignant. Or scared?
Hadn’t he passed the marshal on his way into town? His pulse upped a beat. “What do you need the marshal for?”
“You were right.” Her mouth trembled, just slightly. “I went to interview the last candidate.”
“Alone?” He bit down on his back teeth. If only she’d told him. He shifted his eyes to take in a passerby, then took her arm to stroll down the boardwalk toward the newspaper office.
“He’d been attacked.” Her voice lowered as a woman passed by on their side of the boardwalk.
