Marian didn’t wait for a response. She hurried across the short hallway to the room she shared with her sister and shut the door behind her. All she wanted to do was sink onto her bed, but her clothing was far too filthy to do anything of the sort.
So instead, she made her way to the washstand. One glance at herself in the small mirror and all Marian could wonder was why a man as handsome as Mr. Robertson saw fit to show any interest in her. Her hair was disheveled, her face coated in dust, and her dress likely stained. Even without an adventure in the dust and dirt, Marian knew she was on the plainer side. It made no sense whatsoever that Mr. Robertson had given her any attention beyond returning her reticule. Unless he was teasing her?
Marian’s face flushed pink. She directed her gaze away from the mirror as she poured water from the pitcher Jessilyn must have refilled into the basin. What did it matter what a man like Mr. Robertson thought? That easy grin and square jaw didn’t hide his lack of manners. He was far too confident in himself and much too forward.
It was best she forgot about him altogether. Besides, she had plenty else to occupy her mind.
Marian smiled at the thought of her school as she washed the dust from her face with the water they’d barely had enough of just a few short months ago. How many children would come? How might she obtain the books they needed, the slates, the desks . . . There was so much to prepare! When the town council had asked when she planned to open the school, she’d optimistically told them two weeks.
Whichwaspossible . . . She could make do without books and slates for a little while, but the students would need somewhere to sit. Tomorrow she’d inspect the hat shop and set about locating seating. Perhaps Mrs. Payne knew what had happened to the desks in the old school. That building was now the library, and Mrs. Payne knew every inch of her library. If Marian was lucky, the desks were simply hidden away in there somewhere.
After she’d washed up, changed her dress, and brushed and repinned her hair, Marian inspected the clothing she’d worn to the town council meeting. It was her Sunday best, and would require a good scrubbing tonight if she had any hope of keeping the dirt from staining the fabric.
Jessilyn slipped inside the room as Marian frowned at the hem of her skirt.
“Supper is ready,” Jessilyn said. “If you’ve finished mooning over the handsome man who saved your reticule.”
Marian set the skirt down and frowned at her sister. Ignoring the quick beat of her heart upon recalling Mr. Robertson’s too-friendly smile, she brushed past Jessilyn to the door. “I’ve done no such thing. Mr. Robertson has likely already ridden out of town by now.”
It was highly unlikely, given the hour and the fact Marian had no ideawhyhe was in town, but it was much more reassuring to picture him halfway to Omaha than taking a room over Mrs. Shomburg’s old saloon a few streets away.
“So heishandsome. And why would he do a thing like that?” Jessilyn persisted as she followed Marian into the hallway. “We’ve such a lack of marriageable men in this town.”
Marian let out a short laugh. “Mr. Robertson is hardlymarriageable.” She thanked God it was her and not her younger sister who had met Mr. Robertson. Jessilyn probably would have agreed to meet the man for dinner that very night.
“Well, hecouldbe. With time.” Catching Marian’s scathing glance, Jessilyn paused by the kitchen door. “Don’t you wish to be married?”
“I only wish to teach school.” Marriage would put an end to that dream, as final as a nail in a coffin. Finding a husband wasn’t Marian’s concern, not when she was on the brink of finally achieving her greatest desire. She would be able to contribute to her family. And perhaps settle the ache in her soul that she owed Papa after all those years of wishing they didn’t have the farm.
Marian swept into the kitchen. She had the most exciting news to share with her parents—and none of it involved a certain forward man who’d rescued her from a thief.
Chapter Four
Last Chance had potential, Cole mused as he regarded the town from the window of the sheriff’s office. Some of the storefronts sat vacant, but signs of revitalization were everywhere. From the ladies gathering in front of the tea room to the sounds of hammering coming from a building down the road, Cole thought that perhaps he might stay a while to see what other surprises the town held.
He smiled at the glass pane as he remembered the first surprise—the dirt-streaked, fiery Miss Scott. He didn’t know what had possessed him to ask her to supper. Maybe it was the way she’d fought against that thief. Or perhaps it was because of how her clear blue eyes stood out against her dark hair. Whatever it was, he’d instantly forgotten that he’d sworn off women after hightailing it out of Riggs.
