Castillo's Fiery Texas Rose - By Tessa Berkley Page 0,35
Caleb. “I’m sorry. I, I lost my train of thought. You were saying?”
He searched her face as he spoke. “I said, I put copies of the invoices in the files and took the sheriff the originals.”
“You did?”
“Yes, ma’am. This very afternoon, right before the services.”
Mary Rose managed to swallow the lump in her throat. “Wh-who’d you give them to?”
“Sheriff Weston.” he replied. “The marshal wasn’t there. He was off getting a bath and shave.”
She dampened her lips with the moist end of her tongue. She’d have to get a look at those invoices. She needed to figure out what Daniel was up to. Deep in thought, Mary Rose filed away the image of Trace beneath the willows, his eyes filled with hunger and want. Taking a deep breath, she hated the next question that sprang to her lips. “Do you recall what those invoices listed?”
Caleb Gentry leaned over. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I remember.” He nodded. “Those two crates held rifles, new rifles sent from Austin, Miss Thornton, bound for Fort Ewell.”
Her brows arched. “Are you sure?” she hissed.
“As positive as I can be. The letter was signed by the Secretary of State, in big bold letters.”
Stunned, Mary Rose sat back. Why had Daniel deemed it necessary to keep it a secret that they were hauling rifles for the army? Were there other things he’d conveniently forgotten? A deepening knot of tension pulled at her brow.
“Miss Thornton?” The sound of her name drew her back to the present. “You sure you’re all right?” Caleb asked.
Her mouth lifted in a friendly expression, masking the foreboding that left her ill at ease. “I, I’m tired.”
“Perhaps we all should leave. You need rest after being injured. Shall I get Doctor Martin?” He rose as if to step away.
“Wait.”
Caleb paused.
Mary Rose gave him a shaky smile. “I need to speak.”
“Let me take your plate and cup,” he offered.
“I’ll need my cup,” she sighed, surrendering the plate of nearly untouched food. He took her elbow and helped her rise. Moving to the center of the room, she stood alone, gathering her thoughts and summoning her courage.
“Pardon.” She spoke, and the low murmur of voices stilled. With all eyes upon her, Mary Rose continued. “I’d like to thank each and every one of you for stopping by.” She slowly circled to take in the gazes of friendship and sympathy. “Daniel Thornton was a fine young man.” Her smile trembled. “A good brother and a good friend.”
Her eyes caught the movement as a tall figure stepped through the front door. She would know those shoulders anywhere. Her palm burned as she recalled the heat of his skin beneath the starched white of his cotton shirt. She pressed her lips tight for a moment and could still taste him there, from the coffee he had this morning to the hickory of the bacon he’d consumed with it. If she breathed deep, no doubt the scent of bay rum would invade her nostrils.
“A good businessman,” she continued, her voice a bit brighter than it should have been as she watched the marshal turn to stare.
“Hear, hear,” someone called out.
Trace’s eyes met hers and their gazes locked. Mary Rose smiled. “Yes, hear, hear.” Her gaze spontaneously moved to the person who spoke. “Today, we buried Daniel Michael Thornton’s body, but not his spirit. As long as Thornton Freight stays in business, my brother’s dream stays alive.”
She glanced back. The marshal’s eyes glittered ominously in her direction. Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her chin and met his accusing gaze without flinching. “So, come tomorrow, Thornton’s Freight business will reopen at noon, ready to serve the fine residents of Cobb’s Crossing and beyond.” She lifted her cup. “To Daniel.”
Voices echoed the cry. “To Daniel.”
She circled again, holding the cup high to acknowledge their toast. A smile came readily to her lips. Finishing the circle, a look of triumph on her face, she searched for the marshal. Let him tell her Thornton’s was no place for her. The people of the town told her differently. Her eyes caught a movement in the shadows, and the screen door slammed. The thrill of victory fell from her face. A cold hand gripped her heart as she realized Marshal Trace Castillo had walked out. Why, now, did she feel as if she’d lost the best thing in her life?
Chapter Nine
Trace squinted at the invoices and yawned. As tired as he was, he needed something to keep his mind off the tactical display Mary Rose