The Marshal's Ready-Made Family by Sherri Shackelford Page A

anticipation, but Jo felt only dread.
    Moving to town had been easier than arguing. “That was around the time the Western Union office arrived. They posted an ad on the building and I applied.”
    Western Union had specifically requested female operators. The men in town had scoffed, saying they wanted women so they could pay less. The company’s motivation hadn’t mattered. The job was perfect for Jo. Her boss only came through town every few weeks, and the telegrams kept her busy, but not too busy. If the office walls sometimes felt confining, she volunteered for delivery duty or helped out with the ticket counter.
    And the job gave her independence. She wasn’t beholden on a man to take care of her. She had freedom and security, two things most women could only dream about. Her life was perfect, wasn’t it?
    Cora touched the telegraph machine. “Is it hard to learn?”
    “At first.” Jo grimaced at the recollections. “For a while, I was so frustrated I felt like screaming. All those dots and dashes sounded like a bunch of gobbledygook. Eventually, though, things started making sense. At first I could pick out a few words, then sentences, then everything just made sense all of a sudden. It’s almost like listening to people talk now.”
    Marshal Cain absently picked up an envelope. “But you don’t pay attention to what they say?”
    “Everyone has secrets, and keeping them is a powerful responsibility. I don’t dwell on the messages. It doesn’t seem right, you know?”
    Marshal Cain kept his gaze focused on her, his brows knit in a frown. Once again she had that same feeling he was sizing her up, gauging her answers as though he was cataloging her responses for future reference.
    Had she passed the test? She couldn’t tell by his expression. The longer he stared, the more self-conscious she became. As the moments ticked by, Jo itched to reach up and smooth her braid. Did she have pear blossoms in her hair again? Was he noticing the blueberry stain on her lapel? A scuffle sounded from the train platform, and she broke his gaze.
    Marshal Cain straightened and peered out the window. “I sure do hate being right sometimes. It’s the boys again from the other day, stirring up trouble. They’re chasing something. Probably an animal. I better see to it.”
    He set his hat on his head and tipped the brim. “Ladies.”
    Jo inclined her head as he turned and strode out the door. Relieved his attention was no longer focused on her, she released her pent-up breath. She’d never actually seen him at work, and she wondered how he’d deal with the boys. You learned a lot about a person from how they handled conflict, and for some reason, she wanted to know everything she could about the marshal.
    She faced Cora and planted her hands on her hips. “You want to follow him?”
    With a mischievous grin, the little girl nodded.
    Jo threw back her shoulders. She’d survived one conversation without sticking her boot in her mouth. She was on a roll. What could possibly go wrong now?

Chapter Eight
    M arshal Cain rounded the edge of the building, and Jo and Cora angled closer until they could peer around. When he glanced over his shoulder, they scurried into the shadows, stifling nervous laughter.
    The noonday sun had dried the rain from the previous days, and the streets were mud free for the first time in weeks. Cora appeared lighter, her face less shadowed with their silly antics. Seeing her happy was worth a little skulking around in the afternoon sunlight. They joined hands and followed the marshal from a safe distance.
    Jo glanced up and down the deserted street, relieved there were no customers approaching. Observing the marshal sounded a lot more fun than typing out Mrs. Babcock’s travel itinerary with the fewest possible letters while the frugal woman huffed and criticized Jo’s every choice of word.
    A crowd of boys greeted their curious stares. Jeering and jostling each other, the four young mischief