The Marshal's Mission

Tightening her lips, she hoped it resembled a smile.

He pushed back his hat. “Looks to be a fine day, ’Nora. How about you come a’riding with me and the boys?”

Her jaw clenched. Over the last five years, he’d used that horrid nickname. Every time she’d bristled, Amos had told her it meant nothing. Jeb was merely teasing.

That only proved her husband had no backbone. Not only was he a thief and a liar, he fraternized with thieves and liars. Jeb Hackett was the biggest one of all.

No doubt many a woman had fallen for his handsome face, curly blond locks and icy blue eyes. His handlebar mustache might disguise the cruelty of his mouth, but nothing could hide the wickedness of his heart.

“You know I can’t, Jeb. I’ve work to do.”

“Well, now, we can solve that today.” After swinging one leg over his horse’s neck, he hooked his bent knee on the saddle horn. He leaned forward, resting an elbow on his leg. Like he had all the time in the world. “Since we’re neighbors an’ all. We could join our property and have a nice-sized ranch.”

His friends guffawed, one punching the other in the arm.

“Frank Hopper is thinking of buying me out.” She kept her tone level. “You paying more than him?”

“F’sure.” Jeb grinned as he twisted the end of his mustache. “What I’m offering is better than money.”

Her cheeks flamed. “Why you low-down—”

“Ma,” Toby’s voice called. “Ma!”

Lenora tensed as her son ran across the yard. How much of the conversation had he heard? From inside the barn, Blister continued to bark up a storm.

With clenched fists, Toby stationed himself in front of her. She wrapped her arms over his shoulders and pulled him closer. If need be, she could yank her son into the house and slam the crossbar into place. There they would be safe.

For a little while at least.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the little man himself.” Jeb sneered. “I was wondering when the itty-bitty cockerel would show up. That your mangy dog I hear? Thought he’d be dead by now.”

Toby stiffened. Jeb’s buddies chortled.

Her mouth went dry. Was Jeb confirming that he’d lassoed Blister?

Her son spoke first. “What’d you want, Hackett?”

“Hain’t you learned to speak respectful to your elders, boy? If you were mine, I’d teach you to hobble your tongue.”

“Well, I ain’t yours.”

Jeb’s scowl deepened.

“That’s for certain,” snickered one of his men. The two laughed. The instant their leader glared at them, they quieted.

Lenora took an unsteady breath. “I appreciate you all coming by. I’m sure you have to be on your way now.”

Jeb squinted. “Not going to invite us in? Or feed us? We rode all this way to discuss some business.”

Business? A chill nipped her bones. “I—I’m sorry. I don’t have anything prepared.”

“We can wait, can’t we, boys? Y’see, I’m thinking you’ve been without a husband long enough, ’Nora. How ’bout you and me getting hitched?”

Marry Jeb? Her heart chugged to a stop as the sun burst over the horizon, spotlighting his handsome face.

“If I don’t suit ya—and I don’t see why not—you could always pick Charlie here. Or Dandyman. They’d do you right fine.”

Identical leers passed over the faces of all three men.

Dear Lord... Lenora didn’t know what to pray.

Instead of warming, the sunlight grew brittle, spearing the air with shards of yellow crystal. She could hear nothing but the whistling wind and the horses as they stamped and blew. Even the morning birds stopped their happy chirping. Her chest tightened until she feared she would faint.

The barn door slammed, drawing her attention.

Cole walked across the yard with studied nonchalance. Like he lived there.

Is he in with them? Lenora choked down the panic that rose in her throat as she shoved her son behind her.

Cole pulled up short as though surprised by the men on the other side of the corral. Thumbing back his hat’s brim, he glanced between them. “G’morning.”

Jeb’s eyes squeezed to slits. “Who’re you?”

He smiled as though oblivious to the man’s rudeness. “The name’s Cole.”

Jeb shot Lenora a glance. “You didn’t tell me about him.”

“I...” She coughed and tried again. “I didn’t have a chance.”

As Cole rested a boot on the fence’s lowest rung, the polished gun at his hip flashed in the morning light. “The lady’s been kind enough to let me rest up my horses.”

“Is that so?”

“My mare stepped in a hole yesterday. Hopin’ she won’t be lame long.”

Irritation erupted on Jeb’s face as though he had no idea how to respond to small talk.

Lenora piped up. “You can stay as long as you like, Mr. Cole.”

Jaw jutting, Jeb glared at the stranger. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll pack up the minute your horse recovers and move on.”

Grinning, Cole leaned his left elbow on the fence. He casually hooked a right thumb in his belt, directly above the butt of his revolver. “Actually, I’m thinking of settling down around here. Maybe you could recommend a good location. I plan to breed horses. Fine stock.”

Cole couldn’t be in with the Hackett gang. Not with Jeb’s open hostility.

Convulsively swallowing, Lenora glanced between the men. How would Cole fare if it came down to shooting? The sun at his back would be no advantage with one man against three. Besides, no one ever stood up to Jeb. His father, Eli Hackett, was rumored to own half of Laramie County. Time and again, his outlaw son had weaseled out of trouble. Regardless of how heinous his crimes, Jeb had not spent one night in jail.

He scowled at Cole. After swinging his leg back over his horse’s head, he thrust his boot through the stirrup. “I ain’t done with you yet, ’Nora.” He jerked the reins and kicked his horse into a gallop.