Page 4

People waved as he and Avery passed them.

He nodded in return but didn’t stop to speak as they left the town square and stepped into the dirt road.

There were people here, too, going about their daily business, carrying baskets filled with the things needed to run their homes efficiently—from fresh fruit and vegetables to paper-wrapped packages, chatting as they walked along the raised wooden sidewalk.

He looked up…and chuckled.

Mr. Jennings was right. He couldn’t have missed Sullivan’s Emporium if he tried.

The store did take up half the block. Cloth awnings, forest green in color, shaded the big picture windows along the front of the building.

Gold lettering on those windows proclaimed some of the items for sale within.

There was sign above that extended half the edifice.

He laughed as he read the words written in big block letters.

‘Sullivan’s Emporium. If we don’t have it, you don’t need it. ’

With Avery’s hand in his, he crossed the street and tugged on the door to the building.

A little bell jingled as he opened it and stepped through.

His eyes opened wide and a grin settled on his mouth as he glanced around.

The store was huge and filled with everything a person could ever need—or want—from magazines and books to an overstuffed chair and ottoman and a kitchen table, complete with six chairs, all looking like they’d been hand carved.

There was even an eight-foot stuffed bear, its paws outstretched, its mouth opened in a snarl that showed all its teeth, that hovered over a glass and wood counter where not one, but two, cash registers resided, one at either end.

In between, beneath the glass, on beds of velvet, were pocket watches, rings, necklaces, and other assorted pieces of jewelry, all shimmering beneath the glow of a crystal chandelier, one of several, suspended from the ceiling.

He glanced down at Avery and his smile widened. It seemed she was just as impressed, her gaze moving from one thing to the next until stopping on a display of dolls—some porcelain, some rag. She slipped her hand from his and scampered in that direction without a backward glance.

Despite appearing to have everything, the store was empty, except for one woman.

She stood at a display of soaps with her back toward him, just standing there, looking at it, her head tilted to the side, as if deep in concentration.

The big bow of the apron she wore, the ends extending almost to the floor, was crooked, as if she’d hastily tied it and made a sharp contrast to the dark plum skirt she wore. “I’ll be right with you.”

He recognized the voice. Or at least, he thought he did and moved closer to stand directly behind her.

“Mrs. Morgan?”

She jumped, startled, and backed up a step, her shoe coming in direct contact with his boot then she turned quickly with a muffled ‘oh’ and slammed right into him.

He held out his arms and wrapped them around her so neither one of them would fall.

This close, he saw that her eyes were much more beautiful than he’d originally thought.

Not just violet, but a deep pansy purple with tiny flecks of black and gold, all framed by thick, sooty lashes.

Her cheeks blossomed with color as she quickly pulled out of his embrace.

“Marshal Goodrich! I’m terribly sorry.” She gave him a tremulous smile, then took a few steps back so there was space between them.

She looked rather frazzled and seemed to struggle for composure.

“Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you, did I? ”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, a little embarrassed himself—not because he’d startled her, which he obviously had, but because this was the second instance within a short period of time that she ended up in his arms. And he didn’t mind, which made him question his sanity once again.

“Not at all.” He purposely made himself look away from her. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“I do…until six o’clock tonight.” She nodded, her cheeks still rosy with color. “That’s when I’ll tell Cousin Arnold I quit.”

Startled by her statement, he stiffened, suspicion filling him even though there was nothing even remotely suspicious about this woman. “Why would you do that? Why would you take a job with me when you already had one?”

She shrugged, the action bringing attention to her long, slim neck as the fabric of her white blouse moved against her throat.

“It’s a long story and I won’t bore you with it.

” She took a step toward him and he thought, for a moment, she would reach out to touch him, but he was mistaken.

She adjusted a display of lotions and creams just behind him instead. “What can I do for you?”

“I need a hammer,” he said and smiled. “To fix that threshold. And some nails.”

“There isn’t one at the house?”

He shook his head. “Not that I could find.”

“Not even in the shed?”

“Shed? What shed?”

She chuckled and the sound vibrated all the way to his soul. Why it should do that, he hadn’t a clue, but he liked it. There was a warmth to this woman, a friendliness apparent in her vibrant violet eyes and ready smile. “You really haven’t had time to explore everything, have you?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“There’s a shed on the porch just outside the kitchen. I’m certain you’ll find all the tools you’ll need in there.”

Now why would she tell him that and miss the opportunity to sell him something?

“Well, then, I should be heading back to find that hammer.”

She chuckled again. “Do you know how to fix it?”

“Not really.” He hated admitting that. Yes, he was handy with a gun and arrested criminals, but simple household repairs had never been his forte. “I figured I could just bang the darned thing in place.”

She laughed this time, a full-throated explosion from deep in her chest. “No need for that, Marshal. Mr. Langston does handyman work. He can fix just about anything. He’s got a small house right around the corner.

Just knock on his door and let him know what you need to have done.

He’s reasonable, too.” She smiled at him and her eyes widened just a bit as, once again, a blush stole over cheeks.

“Or I could stop by after work and fix it for you.”

Surprised by her offer, he blurted out, “You can do that?”

She waved her hand, encompassing the entire store. “I built all the displays you see. Well, my father and I did.”

He glanced around, looking at all the wood and glass shelves and cabinets, admiring the work that went into them. If she—and her father—could build these, then she certainly could fix his threshold, much better than he could. “I think I would like that.”

“Good. I’ll come over after six and get that threshold fixed right up.”

He nodded. “I’ll see you then, I guess.” He looked down, fully expecting to see Avery standing next to him or right behind him, but she wasn’t there.

He glanced around the store, panic beginning to set in.

He’d always kept an eye on his daughter, knowing exactly where she was at all times.

He’d been distracted, not only by everything in the store, but by the woman standing in front of him. “Where’s Avery?”

“Right over there.”

He looked in the direction she pointed and sighed with relief.

Avery was cuddled up in the cushions of a soft leather chair, fast asleep, two of the dolls from the display nestled in her arms. He hated to wake her.

She hadn’t been sleeping well and it had been a long trip from Albuquerque to Serenity.

“Don’t wake her.” She did touch him then, resting her hand on his forearm, the warmth of her fingers seeping through the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll bring her with me when I come to fix your threshold.”

Her gaze stayed on his daughter, a softness stealing into her eyes, making the pansy color seem more pronounced.

The woman appeared to like children and Avery certainly liked her.

He didn’t hesitate long before agreeing to her suggestion.

After all, this was the woman he’d hired.

She was just starting the job a little sooner than they’d originally thought. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.” She returned her attention to him. He didn’t miss the sweet smile on her face, nor the longing in her eyes. “We can stop at the Wagon Wheel and pick up something for dinner as well.”

Was she simply being kind? He didn’t know, but again, he accepted what she offered. “I…uh…thank you.”

“We’ll see you after six then.”

He left the store, a little at odds with himself, realizing he was trusting a woman he’d just met.

It was a different feeling for him, but at the same time, it felt right.

He hadn’t lived this long in a position where one could be killed on any given day without having faith in his instincts.

Avery would be all right in Mrs. Morgan’s care.

He crossed the street and entered the town square once more, traversing the meandering paths quickly.

There were still people there—relaxing, chatting with one another, watching their children play.

Once again, they waved at him. He returned the gesture though he didn’t stop his stride.

Time enough to meet everyone who would be under his protection later, but for now, he wanted to meet his deputies.

He was a little apprehensive. Would there be animosity because he’d been appointed to the marshal’s position over them, sight unseen, after Marshal Kimball decided to retire from thirty years of service.

He’d been assured that none of Serenity’s six deputies had wanted to move up and take the job. He hoped nothing had changed.