The Marshal's Promise. Rhonda Gibson

       Seth crossed his arms. He’d just decided on eating over at the diner like normal. He didn’t need kitchen things. He set his jaw and started to tell her that he didn’t need another thing in the kitchen.

       “Wouldn’t you like to have a fresh pot of coffee first thing in the morning?” she asked, once again mimicking his stance and arms.

       How did she know what he’d been thinking? A fresh pot of coffee first thing in the morning did sound nice. He nodded and grunted his agreement. All right, he’d give in on the coffee, but other than that, Seth refused to give in any further.

       And then she walked over to the stove. A wistful longing sound entered her voice. “I can cook some marvelous dinners at this stove. Just think, a hot meal at the end of the day.”

       The last part seemed to be more a thought to herself than a statement for him. He stepped closer to her. The hopeful sound in her voice pulled at his heartstrings. “Sounds like you miss cooking.”

       Rebecca tilted her head to the side and studied him. “I do. Cooking was one of the few things I enjoyed back home.”

       The desire to make her feel at home, in his house, overwhelmed him. “It’s a good thing, then, that I said I’d need a cook, too.”

       As if she’d forgotten, joy filled her face. “That’s right, you did.”

       Seth crossed his arms to restrain himself from reaching out and hugging her. So much for taking his meals at the diner, his inner voice taunted. Rebecca was getting too close and he couldn’t afford to allow that to happen.

       He took a step away from her. “I need to get back to work. You go and get the things needed for cooking and cleaning from the Millers’ store.” His boots pounded across the wood floors as he hurried to leave.

       “Have Mrs. Miller charge whatever you feel is needed to my account.” Seth rushed out the door and across to his horse. He needed to put some space between himself and Miss Ramsey.

      * * *

       Rebecca wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and followed him out the door. She pulled the door shut behind her. What had happened? One moment he’d been smiling and seemed happy she’d taken an interest in his home and her new job, the next he’d exited the house like a cat that had been threatened with a bath. She shook her head. The marshal was turning out to be one complex man.

       He mounted his horse and rode out of town. His wide shoulders swayed in the saddle. He was attractive, and for a few minutes earlier, she’d thought he might kiss her. His touch on her cheek had been warm. She shook her head. Get those thoughts out of your mind, Rebecca Ramsey, she reprimanded. Now that Jesse was gone, Rebecca knew she could only rely on herself. Her own father had deserted her. No man could be trusted not to cast her aside.

       She focused instead on what having a job and money coming in would mean for her. If she saved enough, maybe the bank would allow her to buy a house. She’d need a down payment. Rebecca thought about writing to her father and asking for money, but just as quickly tossed the thought aside. No, it was time she depended on herself.

       A few minutes later, she entered Eliza’s hat-and-dress shop. The bell announced her arrival. Within seconds Eliza arrived to greet her.

       “Oh, Rebecca, you’re back!” She grabbed Rebecca’s hand and pulled her into the sitting room. “How did the job hunting go? Did anyone hire you? Did you try the druggist? What did he say?”

       Rebecca laughed. “If you will stop asking so many questions, I’ll tell you.” She noticed that Hannah Young sat at the table sipping from a small china cup. “Hello.”

       The schoolteacher answered in a very soft voice. “Hello.” Her blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

       “Well, tell us,” Eliza demanded. “Rebecca has been looking for employment,” she informed Hannah, as if she’d not told her of Rebecca’s earlier visit, and then she filled another teacup.

       Rebecca eased onto the soft cushion of the kitchen chair. “Thank you.” She took the tea that Eliza held out to her.

       “Did you?”

       “Did I what?” Rebecca teased, setting the cup down.

       Exasperated, Eliza huffed, “Get a job?”

       “I did.”

       Eliza squealed and then demanded, “Really? Where?” She put the sugar bowl in front of Rebecca.

       Hannah set her cup down and folded her hands in her lap. She didn’t say anything, but simply waited.

       Rebecca spooned two teaspoons of sugar into her hot tea. She glanced at Hannah and they shared a grin. At a snail’s pace she stirred her tea.

       Eliza burst. “Oh! Come on, tell us.”

       At the same time, the little bell over the door jingled the arrival of a new customer.

       Eliza groaned. She leaned forward on the table and whispered, “Don’t say a word until I get back.” Her brown eyes drilled into Rebecca. “Especially you.” She shook her finger in Rebecca’s direction.

       “I promise, I won’t say a word about the job until you get back.” Rebecca took a sip of her tea.

       Hannah stifled a giggle but not before Eliza pinned her with her brown gaze.

       “I promise,” Hannah said, still grinning.

       Satisfied they wouldn’t discuss Rebecca’s new job without her, Eliza left the room in a swirl of skirts. They heard her call out a greeting to the lady who’d entered.

       Rebecca leaned toward Hannah and asked in a soft voice, “Is she always like that?”

       Another giggle escaped Hannah before she answered, “Always.”

       They sipped their tea in comfortable silence. Rebecca’s thoughts were on the trip she planned to make to the Millers’ store. She intended on stocking the marshal’s kitchen with a big coffeepot, lanterns, crockery, pots and pans, iron skillets, a Dutch oven, cooking utensils, knives and dishes. Then there were the food staples she’d need, like coffee beans, spices, baking powder, oatmeal, flour, sugar, eggs, milk, butter, fruit and vegetables, honey and molasses, crackers, cheese, syrup and dried beans. Her mind swirled with what she’d buy and cook in the cozy kitchen.

       “She didn’t tell you, did she?” Eliza asked as she hurried back into the room.

       At Hannah’s negative shake of the head, Eliza pressed on. “That was Mrs. McClain and Isabel. Her daughter is getting married in Aztec next week and we had to do a final fitting.” Eliza laughed. “I think that’s the fastest final fitting I’ve ever done.” She refilled her teacup. “Now, Rebecca, where will you be working?”

       Rebecca could only imagine the look on Mrs. McClain’s face as Eliza rushed her daughter through the fitting. She set her cup down and answered, “I’ll be keeping house, cooking meals and doing the marshal’s laundry.”

       Eliza’s jaw dropped. Her brown eyes resembled those of a hoot owl. When her friend had nothing to say, Rebecca looked to Hannah.

       The schoolteacher’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright.

       “What is wrong?” Rebecca asked, looking from one of them to the other.

       Hannah recovered first. “Nothing is wrong, Rebecca. It’s just that we didn’t know the marshal had decided to stay here in Cottonwoods Springs.”

       That seemed like a reasonable excuse for the women’s shocked reactions to her news, but Rebecca sensed there was more. “And?”

       Rebecca waited. She expected that at any moment Eliza would find her tongue.

       Eliza took a big gulp of tea. Hannah followed suit.

       The hatmaker shook her head. “Oh, I dread to think what the older