The Marshal's Ready-Made Family. Sherri Shackelford

solitary people. Independent. And people have gotten married for worse reasons.”

      The marshal was only repeating her thoughts. Yet her heart wrenched at his words. She had a feeling she’d discovered the source of her strange yearnings. Lately the idea of having babies didn’t seem so bad. Caroline from school had five children and she’d once fainted when Tom Walby broke his nose during a game of kick ball. If Caroline kept having children, there was hope for all of them.

      But the marshal didn’t want a real marriage.

      No matter what happened, Jo wouldn’t let the marshal see that occasionally, in her weaker moments, she wanted more. “Getting hitched solves all your problems.”

      Yep, she was JoBeth McCoy, problem solver to the world.

      He circled the room and sank onto a chair before his empty dinner plate. “No. This is crazy.” Elbows on the table, he cradled his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m not myself lately.”

      He was hiding something, she was certain. Jo rubbed the back of her neck. She had a feeling she knew the source of his reluctance.

      No matter the personal cost, she’d pry the truth from him. “Would you say yes if someone else asked?” She fought the rough edge in her voice. “Because there are plenty of other ladies in town.”

      Marshal Cain bolted upright. “This is the rest of my life. You’re the only one I’d even consider.”

      “Ooo...kay.”

      That was a decent response, right? He hadn’t exactly explained why he’d choose her over someone else, but Jo guessed that was about as good an answer as she was going to get. While she might have hoped for something more revealing, at least he was still considering her suggestion. He hadn’t outright refused her yet.

      Garrett unfurled a pink ribbon from his pocket and stretched it between his hands. “Cora loves you. You’re all she talks about these days.”

      Jo’s shoulders sagged. Cora. Of course, that’s what he’d meant. He was thinking of his niece, not her.

      She’d capitalize on his reluctant admission. Carefully formulating her response, Jo skirted the table. When she’d gathered her thoughts, she knelt before him and gently tugged the pink ribbon free. “We have to think of what’s best for all of us.”

      A half smile lifted the corner of his lips, and her mouth went dry. She definitely wanted to try kissing again—just as a comparison. Gathering her wayward thoughts once more, she studied his hands, tanned and dwarfing her own. She didn’t feel weak when he was near. She felt buoyant and powerful, as though his strength melded with hers. Despite her own certainty, she sensed his persistent doubt. If this marriage was going to happen, they both needed faith.

      Jo swallowed around the lump in her throat. One thing she’d learned over time was never to predict the future. This might not be the ideal solution for Jo—she had an uneasy sense one of them had more at stake in the marriage than the other—but this was the best solution for Cora.

      The marshal and his niece had been through so much, had lost so much. If Jo could hold their family together, she’d pay the personal price.

      Perhaps in bringing peace to Cora and Garrett, she’d find a measure for herself. “It’s just like you said earlier. Neither of us is the romantic sort. We’re not bothered by love. We’d be doing this for Cora. She needs a family, and, well, things are changing for me.”

      The marshal raised his head and met her steady gaze. “How do you mean?”

      Stalling, Jo let her attention drift around the familiar room. “The boys will be marrying soon.”

      “How does that change things for you?”

      “Caleb is a farmer, like Pa. He’ll stay here and work the land. The house is already crowded as it is, and with another woman around...well, they won’t need my help anymore.”

      Garrett flashed a wry grin. “Looks like Caleb will be spending a lot of time at the mercantile.”

      “I suppose.” Jo resisted a smug rejoinder. Caleb definitely had it bad for Mary Louise. “And once he’s married, David won’t be far behind. Those boys have always followed each other.”

      “Even if your parents won’t need as much of your help, you’ll still have your job in town. At the telegraph office.”

      “I know. But I want more.”

      “What more could you possibly want?”

      What do you want? His blunt question threw her off guard. No one else had thought to ask her what she wanted. She’d thought about what was best for her parents, for her brothers, for Cora and even for the marshal. But she’d never considered what was best for her.

      Her ma had certainly given up on Jo ever marrying. While she loved her family, she wanted more. When her friends got married, it was as if they were automatically considered adults, but since Jo hadn’t gotten hitched, they still treated her like a child. All a man had to do was turn eighteen and he was considered grown, but a woman wasn’t given that luxury.

      It was odd, really, since as far as she could tell, getting married didn’t automatically endow you with more wisdom than anyone else. But everyone around her seemed to think so. Her married school friends would smile and give her a patronizing nod, as though they’d somehow been granted admission into a secret club and Jo wasn’t invited.

      Marrying the marshal bypassed all that courting and foolishness. And at least the marshal hadn’t said he’d rather court his grandfather’s mule.

      Jo glanced away. “I love Cora. I can’t explain how it happened, but when she stepped off that train, I felt a kinship. Mrs. Smith was pacing the platform and wailing about Indians, but Cora just stood there with those big, solemn eyes. She was lost and alone, but now she has us. We can make a family.”

      “I know what you mean about Cora.” The marshal ran his hand along his chin. “When I saw her that day at church, peeking out from behind your skirts, I felt the same way.”

      Jo’s heart soared at his reluctant admission. He was softening toward her idea, she could tell.

      “This is a lifetime decision, Jo.” His dark gaze ran the length of her and Jo suddenly realized she was still wearing trousers. “You’re young. Someday you’ll fall in love.”

      She pulled out the chair beside him and hitched her pant legs over her knees, then she sat facing him. If Garrett was disappointed in what he saw, that was his loss.

      No matter what happened, she wouldn’t change who she was—not on the inside, and certainly not on the outside. “Maybe this is God’s way of bringing two people together who wouldn’t normally marry otherwise.”

      “But what if you want children of your own someday?” he spoke, not quite meeting her eyes.

      The memories of all the births she’d attended rippled through her. All the fragile bodies she and her ma had swaddled in christening blankets for untimely burials. Not every mother survived the process, and not every baby. Garrett might be a marshal, yet Jo was certain she’d seen more death than he had.

      She pushed back a wash of sadness. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. No one knows what the future will bring. But we do know what needs to be done right now.”

      She leaned forward and cradled his hands. They looked at each other for a long moment, and her breath grew shallow. His shoulders were broad, strong and capable. Sitting this close, the room bathed in lamplight, she noticed how his eyes were rimmed by a darker circle, making the color appear even deeper.

      Could she do this? Could she spend the rest of her life as his friend without wanting more?

      He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand and her whole body pulsed with his touch.

      Jo tightened her grip. What choice did she