The Marshal Meets His Match Read Free Page B

a deep breath as her shoulders slumped. She should not have lost her temper, but—honestly! The man had called her a horse thief! Between that, her lately volatile emotions and…and those unnerving eyes, it had been like waving a red flag at a bull, and she’d attacked.
    Something Mrs. Van Deusen had said earlier flitted across her memory, stopping Meri in her tracks.
    “…the new marshal has arrived, and you have to meet him. I’ve told him all about you.”
    No! Oh, no, no, no!
    Mortified consternation swamped the last dregs of temper. She should have never left the ranch this morning. Faither had better be done with his business, because she wanted to slink out of this town as fast as possible. Mrs. Van Deusen could find some other unsuspecting female to throw at the new marshal. Meri wanted absolutely no part of him! Not that he’d want anything to do with her after this morning. It was going to be hard enough to come back in for church services, to say nothing of the picnic.
    Dread slithered down her spine, and she groaned. Just the thought of sitting in the same church building with that man made her feel queasy enough maybe she’d just stay home from church for a while. She definitely wouldn’t have to feign not feeling well! And who needed a picnic, anyway? Staying away from town was sounding better all the time.
    Crack!
    The sound of a gunshot slammed into her ears. Meri’s heart stopped as the direction of the gunfire dawned on her.
    She broke into a dead run.

Chapter Two
    W yatt examined the repaired holster before strapping it around his waist and holstering his pistol. “Looks good, Franks. I figured I’d have to replace the whole thing, but I can hardly see where you fixed it. Thanks.”
    Crack! The gunshot interrupted Franks’s reply.
    Wyatt pivoted toward the barn door, wishing for his rifle from his office.
    “Wait! You might need dis.” Franks tossed a rifle to Wyatt, a second rifle in his other hand.
    “Thanks.” Wyatt snatched the rifle out of the air and sprinted out of the barn, hearing Franks pound the ground behind him.
    As they turned the corner onto the main street, Wyatt dodged the running figure of Miss McIsaac. Where did she think she was going?
    “Stay back!” He barked as he passed her. He spared a split-second glance over his shoulder, pleased to see her slow down. Good. He didn’t know what was going on, but the fewer spectators he had to deal with the better.
    A man jumped astride a horse to ride away from the bank, throwing hot lead around and forcing curious onlookers to scurry for cover. Wyatt threw up his rifle, slamming the butt of the gun into his shoulder. As he laid his finger against the trigger, someone ran between him and the mounted gunman. He jerked the barrel of the rifle up and held his fire. He had no clear shot, but the shooting horseman needed to be stopped before someone was killed.
    Wyatt pulled his pistol and fired twice in the air, aiming far above innocent heads. The bullets came nowhere near the gunman, but he sank his spurs into the horse’s sides as he yanked violently on the reins and plunged down an alleyway.
    The shooting stopped, and heads poked out of doorways like so many prairie dogs. “Anyone hurt?” Wyatt shouted as he ran toward the bank.
    “No. But I think the bank’s been robbed.” An unidentified voice yelled back.
    Wyatt slammed the bank doors open, Franks and several other men hot on his heels. No one was in the front room, but the door to the office stood open, and the banker was slumped on the floor just inside it. He moaned and tried to sit up as Wyatt entered. He gave the banker a quick glance then looked around the office.
    “Franks, help him.” He pointed to the banker and moved to a second man lying motionless and bleeding on the floor beside the massive desk.
    There was blood on the floor around the white-haired man’s head and more blood staining his side, but he was breathing. The wound on his side was bleeding