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

platform.
    Because telegraph lines followed train tracks, Jo’s office sat near the station. Upon arriving, she unlocked the door and flipped over the sign reading Open. The office was little more than a lean-to jutting from the depot. The government had provided a single desk, swivel chair, a brass lamp with a bottle-green shade and a small table. A storeroom had been portioned off along the back. If someone left a package unclaimed at the station, Jo locked it up or delivered the parcel herself when she found time.
    The space was cozy, but two windows on opposite sides gave her a cross breeze in the summer. A squat, potbellied stove provided heat in the winter.
    She’d put Marshal Cain out of her mind and concentrate on her job. Work was the best balm and the ultimate distraction.
    Despite Jo’s resolve, her thoughts wandered as she spun around on her chair and arranged her supplies. Outside, a train whistle blew.
    She met Cora’s frightened gaze. “That’s the eight-thirty from Wichita. She’s half an hour early.”
    As was her routine, the little girl scooted beneath the desk and stuck her fingers in her ears. The train rumbled past, rattling the windowpanes and vibrating the floorboards.
    When silence descended once more, Jo ducked her head beneath the desk. “That was a coal train. Those trains are the longest, but they usually travel the fastest.”
    “They’re loud.”
    “You get used to it. When I first moved to town, I woke up with the five-fifteen every morning. Now I don’t even notice.”
    “Really?”
    “Really.”
    Cora had arrived in Cimarron Springs ready for adventures—as long as that adventure didn’t involve the teeth-jarring clatter of a passing train.
    A moment later Cora emerged from her hiding place and returned to the makeshift play area Jo had set up for the little girl. There was a square of slate board and chalk, several rag dolls and a set of marbles.
    An hour later, her busywork finished, Jo tipped back in her chair and considered the child. Cora drew flowers, trees and stick figures on her slate board, but never words. “You said you know your letters, didn’t you?”
    “Some.”
    Jo remembered being a child and how much she loathed being forced into learning. Perhaps if she couched the lesson in another way, Cora would show interest. “You want to see what I do?”
    Cora danced on the balls of her feet. “Yes, yes, yes!”
    Jo laughed. “Okay, pull your chair over here and I’ll show you.”
    They settled side by side, and Jo dug out a sheet of paper.
    The bell above the door jingled. Marshal Cain stuck his head in. “I just happened to be in the neighborhood.”
    Jo suppressed a grin. He’d gone a whole hour without checking on them, and it had obviously taxed him. “Of course you were.”
    “What are you ladies up to?”
    Frowning, Jo studied his expression. That was the second time today he’d used the formal term. No one had ever referred to her as a “lady” and she wasn’t sure if she was being mocked.
    Then again, he’d never shown any other signs of mockery, and he’d had plenty of opportunity. Especially when she’d bluntly asked him to marry her.
    Her cheeks heated at the memory.
    “I was about to show Cora how Morse code works. What are you doing, other than checking up on us?”
    The marshal glanced around, his gaze innocent of mischief. “Mr. Stuart at the mercantile said he’s having problems with a group of boys. I have a bad feeling it’s that bunch we saw the other day. One of them is Tom Walby’s son. Thought they might have come this way.”
    Jo quirked a questioning eyebrow.
    Marshal Cain set his hat back on his head and revealed an abashed grin. “Okay. I was checking on Cora. But as long as I’m here, I might as well brush up on my skills. It’s been years since I’ve used Morse code. I used to know my letters. Can I look at your cipher sheet?”
    Not many people in town understood her work, and Jo appreciated having someone she