Page 5 of Chloe's Christmas Escape
“Surely it won’t be that bad.”
Chloe looked up into teasing green eyes, and she nearly fell right off the step to realize it wasn’t Marshal Masters waiting for her at all.
“I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.” She quickly made her way to the ground, reclaiming her hand from the stranger. Her gaze traveled along his tall frame, taking in the details. His dark hair was a shade too long and brushed against the collar of his shirt. His eyes were the color of fresh tulip stems, captivating her with their intensity. She could feel it pulling her in, like she was being hypnotized. Her heart raced as she found herself unable to look away.
“Did you need further help?” The handsome man asked, and Chloe could sense her face reddening as the warmth rose from her neck.
“My apologies.” She shook her head, her long blondish brown hair swaying with the motion. Turning away from the other passengers, she swept her gaze across the area and spotted the marshal unloading a top rack overflowing with luggage. His broad shoulders and tall figure made it easy to identify him in the crowd.
Don’t draw attention to yourself.
The marshal’s warning echoed in her mind. She needed to get off the street. It is what he’d want her to do. Chloe moved toward the bench in front of the depot and lowered her head, pulling the veil down on her hat. She prayed there would be time to use the facilities and freshen up before they met up with the man’s nephew. Perhaps they could even spend a night here. She would do anything for the chance to lie down and sleep in complete comfort, without being disturbed for just one night.
Finding a bench, she sat down, and her eyes glanced back at the handsome stranger. Her jaw dropped. He was shaking hands with the marshal and then the older man embraced him in a hug, slapping him on the back. Standing next to each other, she realized how much the two men looked alike and fresh horror washed over her.Was that the younger marshal?So much for freshening up, and not making a spectacle of herself when meeting the man.
Marshal Masters waved her over with a small, encouraging smile and she hesitantly rose from her seat, her body still tense from the shock of seeing the younger man next to him. She sauntered towards the pair, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. As she approached, her hesitation dissipated, replaced by a newfound sense of confidence, fueled by thoughts of Kara’s concerns.
If this was Jackson Masters, at least he wasn’t fat, ugly, or old. He’d even been playful for a moment. Chloe glanced to see Kara sitting on a bench and was relieved to see her smiling and chatting with the man beside her.
Things were looking up in Chicago.
“Jackson has reserved us accommodations at the boarding house; let’s get you situated, and we will come together again for breakfast.” Marshal Masters extended a hand, guiding her to the enormous building on the other side of the stage. Chloe hadn’t even noticed the wide front porch with a swinging sign announcing itself as a boarding house.
“You’re not going to introduce us?” She raised an eyebrow, stepping up to the older man.
“No. Not on the street, I’m certainly not.”
Jackson Masters clasped her arm gently, yet with assurance, and led her towards the garden gate leading to the boarding house. She could feel the warmth of his strong fingertips as they moved up to her waist and together, they made their way, slowly ascending onto the porch. He opened the door with a gentle push, leading her into the building.
The housekeeper, a short woman with dark eyes and gray hair pulled into an efficient bun, hurried towards them, and began fussing. She guided Chloe up another staircase before taking a left turn down the hallway. The older woman chatted as she hustled Chloe along, gesturing animatedly towards a room with a steaming bath. It all sounded incredibly inviting, and Chloe couldn’t wait to submerge herself in the warm water.
As she followed the housekeeper further down the hall, she wondered which room Jackson Masters was staying in and why hadn’t the marshal bothered to introduce them.
Jackson’s eyes followed the petite woman’s shapely figure as she climbed the stairs. His mouth clamped shut until he faced his uncle, and then the words came out in a torrent—anger and frustration boiling on each one.
“Who is she?”
Uncle Mac chuckled, rubbing a hand over his forearm. “That’s your future wife.”
“My what?”
Jackson’s eyes widened, and he involuntarily backed away, his mouth agape. He couldn’t believe what was coming out of Uncle Mac’s mouth; ideas Jackson had toyed with, but never imagined his uncle would consider.
“She’s got a long, complicated story. Nice girl from an excellent family. Needs to be as far away from Pennsylvania as possible; and you wanted a wife.”
“Let’s get you to your room, and you can tell me what exactly is going on.” Jackson glanced at the older man skeptically, his brow furrowing with doubt. But inside, he felt a spark of jubilation trying to ignite. He wanted to jump around and celebrate, but the sharp, throbbing ache in his leg kept him planted firmly in place.
The woman was certainly pretty, and he wasn’t prepared to think about the spark that ran through his veins when their hands had touched.This was worth waiting for, Jackson thought, following his uncle up the stairs and down the hall to the room next to his own.
Just as they were about to step inside, the door across the hall opened and a maid came into sight.
“Are you in need of hot water this morning, Marshal?” She gave him a friendly smile, then glanced at his companion, unsure if she’d spoken out of turn.
“Thank you, but right now he needs bath water more than I need hot water.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll bring it right up.”
The maid was gone a moment later, and Uncle Mac let out a chuckle. “Have you charmed the entire staff?”
