The Marshal Takes a Bride. Renee Ryan

at me, Katherine?”

      Katherine dragged her sister into a fierce hug. “I was never angry at you, Molly. I was only upset with your behavior. I didn’t set out to ruin your fun, but rules are rules.”

      The little girl rubbed a wet cheek into her shoulder. “I don’t really hate you, you know.”

      Tightening her hold, Katherine dropped a kiss onto her sister’s forehead. “I know.”

      Oh, Lord, make me worthy of raising this child. Help me to show her Your unconditional love so she’ll turn to You when times get tough, or when I fail her.

      With gentle movements, Katherine lowered Molly back to the bed. “No more worries, pumpkin. All’s forgotten.”

      Molly swiped the back of her hand across her cheek. “Really?”

      “Really. We’re family. And now that God has brought us together, I won’t ever leave you or let you go.”

      As Molly grinned through her tears, devotion brimmed in her eyes. “You’re the best sister ever.”

      Katherine reached out and tweaked the upturned nose. “So are you, Molly.”

      “Night, Katherine.”

      Smiling, she leaned over and blew out the bedside lantern. “Night, Molly. I love you.”

      “Me, too.”

      Katherine quietly edged out of the room, then shut the door behind her. Tiptoeing toward the back staircase that led to the kitchen below, she offered up a silent prayer of gratitude to God. She and Molly had stumbled today, but they’d avoided any permanent rift.

      No thanks to Trey Scott.

      The U.S. marshal had gotten in the middle of a situation where he quite simply hadn’t belonged. Perhaps his intentions had been honorable, but in the end he’d caused far more harm than good.

      And not just in Molly’s case.

      Katherine stifled a shudder as unwanted memories of their latest encounter crept into her thoughts. If only he’d agreed to leave her sister alone, Katherine might have been able to keep her precarious emotions under control during their argument.

      But he’d pushed and demanded explanations that weren’t easily voiced. Then he’d stood too close. And she’d become unreasonably terrified.

      During a moment of clarity, Katherine knew the man would never hurt her. Not in the way her attacker had. Then why was she so afraid of him? Why did she always feel the need to run whenever Marshal Scott got too close?

      Even now, hours later, the humiliation of her panicky reaction dug deep.

      Collapsing against the wall, Katherine shut her eyes against the shame that still burned in her. No. She wouldn’t take the blame this time. Her uncomfortable reaction to Trey’s nearness wasn’t her fault. It was the legacy of her past. Nothing more.

      In fact, her fear of Marc’s friend was a small annoyance compared to the importance of maintaining stability in her life. Especially now that she had Molly’s welfare to consider.

      With renewed determination, Katherine marched down the stairs, then pushed through the door leading into the kitchen.

      The sight of Mrs. Smythe washing dishes at the sink improved Katherine’s mood considerably. Tall, broad-shouldered and gray-haired, Mrs. Smythe was the perfect adopted grandmother for forty orphans—and one grown woman in need of a friendly face. Arranging a smile on her lips, Katherine greeted the other woman. “Good evening, Mrs. Smythe.”

      The older woman turned, her smoke-gray eyes sparkling with pleasure. “Hello, dear.”

      The housekeeper’s affectionate reception warmed Katherine’s heart, but after the events of the day, she found she wasn’t in the mood for company, after all. “Why don’t you go on home? I can finish the washing.”

      Mrs. Smythe’s face cracked into a wide smile. “Are you sure? I certainly don’t mind staying until I’m through.”

      Katherine nodded. “I feel like cleaning tonight.”

      Wiping her hands on the front of her skirt, the older woman let out a hearty chuckle. “Well, then, I won’t ask again.”

      Mrs. Smythe hurried around the chopping block in the center of the kitchen, then gathered her belongings out of the supply closet. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

      “Night,” Katherine said.

      Just as the door shut with a bang, Laney waddled into the kitchen, carrying an armload of dishes. Avoiding her friend’s eyes, Katherine took the stack of plates and set them in the soapy water. “I sent Mrs. Smythe home.”

      “I see that.”

      “Why don’t you go rest, enjoy some time alone with Marc?”

      Laney blew out a sigh of gratitude. “My feet are hurting, and I certainly won’t turn down a quiet moment with my husband. I’ll just bring in the rest of the dishes before I head upstairs.”

      “You don’t have to do that.”

      “I want to.”

      All argued out, Katherine relented. “That would be a great help, thank you.”

      As Laney trudged back to the dining room, Katherine picked up a plate from the soapy water, grabbed a rag and began scrubbing. She tried to empty her mind of all thought, but images of Trey’s stricken expression when he’d realized how frightened she was of him kept flashing through her mind.

      Just thinking of the genuine remorse flickering in his eyes made her feel so…so…guilty.

      Why did she feel as though she’d hurt him when she’d flinched from his touch?

      “You’re going to wipe the pattern right off that china.”

      Katherine jerked at the sound of Laney’s voice. Looking over her shoulder, she let her gaze unite with her friend’s worried expression.

      “Are you all right?” Laney asked.

      Sniffing, Katherine flicked the water off her fingers. “Perfect.”

      “You don’t look perfect,” Laney said, her gaze sharp and assessing.

      Katherine took the stack of dirty dishes, then set them on the counter next to the sink, with a thud. “I’ve never been better.”

      Returning to work, she yanked another dish out of the water, spraying soapsuds into the air.

      Laney wiped a bubble off Katherine’s cheek, then laid a hand on her arm. “Did you argue with Trey again?”

      Katherine increased the vigor of her scrubbing, her erratic movements sloshing water and bubbles onto the floor. “Trey and I always argue.”

      “Over Molly?”

      “I told him to stay away from her.”

      Sliding a look from beneath her lashes, Laney fiddled with the dishes, stacking them largest to smallest. “He’s good with her, you know. And with the rest of the children, for that matter.”

      Perhaps. Maybe. Okay, yes, he was good with the orphans.

      It changed nothing. “Ever since he started hanging around here, he’s disrupted my, I mean, our lives. Molly never defied me before today.”

      “It was bound to happen sooner or later. She’s a child, after all.”

      Katherine knew Laney was right—to a point—but she also knew that her concerns over Trey’s impact on her sister’s well-being were valid as well. “He’s too bitter. And his anger at God is tangible. I don’t want the man’s influence to result in Molly’s unbelief.”

      Laney abandoned all pretense of helping and turned her full attention to Katherine. “I’ll admit Trey can