Page 5 of The Marshal's Bride
“I don’t want to get married again.” Justine shook her head, the conversation she had that morning still bouncing around in her thoughts.
“No one is rushing you, Justine.” June tried to soothe her friend, though it wasn’t long ago since they had had this discussion in reverse. “Tell me what’s going on?”
“I spoke with the banker this morning about the building that’s for sale next to the mercantile.” June nodded for her to continue as she snuggled Sadie close to her chest. Justine quickly glanced and saw that the boys and Hope weren’t so far away that she needed to intervene before she spoke. “That man says that I cannot buy the building. Apparently, nothing is for sale in this town, unless a man is making the purchase.”
She wanted to swat the banker when he said it. It wasn’t her fault that Jacob had died, or that there was an acceptable mourning period. Frankly, she was more surprised at the male-dominated opinion, when everyone knew that Marmee Chapman often got what she wanted.
Justine doubted anyone would tell Marmee no if she wanted to purchase or rent the building. It didn’t even matter that Justine had the full amount to purchase the building, it just boiled down to the antiquated ways of the male-dominated business world.
“I could talk to Hiram and Ranger,” June offered, a smile blossoming on her face as she mentioned her new husband.
Another sigh escaped Justine; she didn’t want to inconvenience anyone. “I’m going to talk to my cousin. Perhaps he would sponsor me or speak with the banker on my behalf.”
“Have you talked to Sam about your dream? I’m sure that he and Whitney would be more than happy to have somewhere to eat other than Miss Marcy’s.”
Justine felt the heat rise in her neck. There were a lot of things that she would like to talk to Sam Davis about. Unfortunately, she was still observing her mourning period. She wasn’t keen to get remarried, let alone marry a man who might get shot at during his workday.
There was something between them. She felt it from the moment she first laid on eyes on him at the depot in Grand Platte. It was just an unspoken attraction, and Marshal Davis had remained a perfect gentleman in the three months she had known him.
He made sure she settled into her new home. No one ever treated her as kindly as Marshal Davis had.
Like the way he appeared in the alley by the livery every Sunday morning to walk her and Hope to church. He discreetly checked on her when June’s ex-husband was spotted in town and making mischief. Or just stopped her in the street to say hello and quack at Hope.
A natural smile crept across her lips at the thought of her daughter and the marshal. They seemed to have their own language and completely understood what the other was saying—even if it was just one word.
Perhaps it made sense that they would naturally gravitate towards each other. He was a stranger in town too, so they had that bit in common, but nothing more.
Glancing at her hand, she spied the thin gold band around her finger, and it was like throwing cold water on her thoughts. She curled her fingers and tucked her hand under the other, so she didn’t have to see the metal winking in the sunlight.
“Marshal Davis is not responsible for my future. I’m sure the sheriff has other things to worry about in this town as well.”
The sound of a clearing throat behind her had both women spinning to look at who had crept up on them. Justine put her hands to her face as she felt herself warm under the amused gaze of the fine-looking man she was just talking about. She was sure that she had turned the color of a tomato, as heat flamed up her throat and into her cheeks.
“Ladies, what are the sheriff and I not interested in?” Marshal Davis grinned down at them, and a different heat swirled in Justine’s belly.
She thought he was attractive when she first saw him that day on the stagecoach coming into town, but today he was… beyond description. What was it about him that made her tongue swell, and all rational thoughts escape her head?
“Justine wants to open a cafe next to the mercantile.” June beamed at him. Justine could hear the pride and support ringing true in her friend’s words.
“Would this cafe have coffee and cookies, perhaps?” He raised a questioning eyebrow while squatting down to be even with them on the bench.
“Quack!” Hope yelled, running as fast as her little legs could carry her towards Sam, the boys hot on her heels.
Sam reached out, grabbing the back of the bench with one arm, and opening his other arm to catch the eager toddler. “Good morning, Miss Hope.”
“Quack!” She reached up and tapped a finger against his chin.
“Neigh,” Sam answered in response, eliciting giggles from all the children now gathered around him. Hope gave him another pat on the cheek before turning back to her friends, and the cloth block they were tossing between each other.
“You shouldn’t encourage her,” Justine sighed, watching the children return to the grassy area in front of them.
“I know that you’re worried about her words, but she communicates just fine on her own. The words will come. I remember my mother telling my sisters that, when my nieces and nephews didn’t start talking until later. There are also quite a few children that learn signs at this age.” Sam dismissed her criticism with ease.
“Heath still isn’t talking much.”
“That’s because he can’t get a word in edgewise with Colton.”
June laughed, then quickly sobered. “I think the shock of losing their Ma and Pa at the same time may have been too much for them.”
