Ruth Read Free

approached the newlyweds. He shook hands with Jackson. “You’re a lucky man.”
    The sincerity in his tone wasn’t entirely contrived. Jackson was lucky. Glory was the one woman who could tame the wagon master, and Dylan wished them well. Jackson grinned down at his bride. If ever there was a happy man, Montgomery fit the bill today.
    “It’s your turn next, McCall!”
    “Don’t hold your breath, Montgomery.”
    Dylan leaned in and kissed the bride lightly on the cheek. Glory blushed, edging closer to Jackson. Beaming, Jackson drew her close.
    “That’s my girl. Beware of wolves in sheep’s clothing.”
    Dylan lifted an eyebrow. “Me? A wolf?”
    “The worst,” Jackson confirmed with a sly wink. “Knew that about you right off.”
    The two men laughed.
    The new Mrs. Montgomery frowned. “Jackson—”
    Throwing the marshall a knowing wink, Jackson took his wife’s arm and steered her toward another cluster of well-wishers.
    Dylan milled about for a while, exchanging expected pleasantries and hoping he could leave soon. Events like this weren’t his cup of tea. He spent the majority of his time alone, which he preferred. He was eager to get going to Utah. He would have left last week, but Jackson and Glory had talked him into attending the wedding. Jackson needed a best man, he said, and Dylan had reluctantly agreed, feeling torn between friendship and duty to his job.
    Dylan spotted Ruth with Mayor Hopkins, her cheeks flushed, blue eyes aglow, thick, shiny, coal black hair hanging to her waist, laughing up at him. She’d never looked at Dylan that way . . . but then he supposed a woman like Ruth wouldn’t. Men like him were loners. They had to be. Keeping the law was a dangerous business. Ruth, even with her independent streak a mile wide, would avoid a man like him, as well she should.
    Dylan had stepped onto the sidewalk when Pastor Siddons threaded his way through the crowd toward him. “Marshall McCall! They’ll be cutting the wedding cake soon. You won’t want to miss that.” The pastor beamed. “Etta Katsky makes the best pastries this side of paradise.”
    Smiling, the marshall acknowledged the invitation. The whole town was friendlier than a six-week-old pup. It was a good place for Ruth and the other girls to settle.
    The two men stood side by side, watching the festivities. Arthur Siddons’s pleasant face beamed. “Nothing like a wedding to make you feel like a young man again.”
    Dylan refused to comment. His gaze followed Ruth as she moved through the crowd. He’d never seen her smile like that, laugh like that, so happy and carefree.
    Arthur looked up at him, a sly grin hovering at the corner of his mouth. “Right pretty sight, wouldn’t you say?”
    Dylan had to agree. “Ruth’s a fine-looking woman. All the girls are.”
    The pastor nodded. “Mother was just saying how nice it is to have young blood in the town. Tom Wyatt and his boys are low-down polecats. The whole town’s known that for years, but I have to say the devil was taken by surprise this time. Had it not been for you and Jackson, those six young women would be working the mines right now, without a hope for the future.”
    Dylan bristled at the thought. “The Wyatts ought to be strung up by their heels.”
    “Yes, many agree, but Wyatt’s not done anything he can be legally prosecuted for. We know he promised the women husbands, but in a court of law he’d say the women, the orphanage, and Montgomery misunderstood. He would eventually set them free, once they worked off their debt to him. But considering the wages he’d pay, that would take a mighty long time. It isn’t the first time he’s used deceit to gain mine workers. Brought eight women out last year, and one by one they escaped. Found one this spring.” The reverend shook his head. “Poor woman didn’t make it.”
    A shadow crossed the marshall’s features. “I thought once that Jackson and Glory had met the same fate.”
    “Yes, Jackson and