The Marshal's Ready-Made Family by Sherri Shackelford

Author:Sherri Shackelford [Sherri Shackelford]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, General, Christian, Historical, Fiction
ISBN: 9780373282517
Google: HZMiAQAAQBAJ
Amazon: 0373282516
Barnesnoble: 0373282516
Goodreads: 18343256
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-02-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Two weeks later, Jo stood on a dais in the backroom of the mercantile wearing a perfectly ridiculous concoction of heavy ivory satin. The lace collar choked her throat and stretched so it tickled her earlobes.

“Stand still!” Mrs. Hankins ordered, the seamstress’s words muffled around a mouthful of pins. “I can’t properly measure the hem if you don’t stop wiggling.” The aggravated woman sat back on her heels. “Are these the shoes you’ll wear?”

“Yes,” Jo replied curtly.

Her ma clutched her chest. “While I’m afraid of the answer, I have to ask. What are you wearing?”

Jo hiked her skirts. “The usual.”

“Oh, good gracious.” Edith slapped one hand over her mouth. “You’re wearing a drover’s boot.”

“Nope.” Jo bent at the waist. “It’s called a cowboy boot. Mr. Stuart says they’re all the rage in Texas. Check out the stitching on the side.” She tipped her stacked heel and admired the elaborate craftsmanship.

“I don’t care what you call it. That shoe is positively hideous. You cannot wear those.”

“No one will see them.”

“I’ll know you’re wearing work boots during the ceremony. That is absolutely unacceptable.”

“If no one can see them, why does it matter?”

“It matters.”

Jo glowered. “That doesn’t make any sense!”

Cora shifted in her perch on a chair in the corner and Jo immediately regretted her outburst. Good heavens, she was behaving like a child and frightening Cora in the process. Jo straightened and turned toward the little girl.

“It’s all right,” she called with a reassuring smile. “We’re just agreeing on a dress.” Pressing down a mountain of itchy ruffles with one hand, Jo grimaced. “What do you think of this one?”

Cora wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

Jo tossed a withering glare over one shoulder. “See, Ma? I told you I looked ridiculous.”

“That’s not the only dress in town.” Edith raised her eyebrows. “If this wasn’t such a rush, if we had more time, I could sew something nice for you.”

“You’re the one who insisted on setting a date for the wedding.”

“And you’re the one who’s been avoiding me.”

“I don’t like to dress shop.”

“Hiding from the task isn’t going to change anything.”

“Either way, I need a break from all this girl stuff.” Jo scurried behind the screen. As she yanked the suffocating yards of satin and lace over her head, the bell above the mercantile door chimed.

Footsteps sounded and Mary Louise called out, “Marshal Cain is here. He wants to know if he can talk with you.”

Jo’s heart lodged in her throat. She hadn’t seen him in days, and it felt like an eternity. “Be right out.”

At least his timely arrival offered her a much-needed reprieve from wedding shopping. After licking her palms, she smoothed her hair and pinched her cheeks.

When Jo emerged from behind the screen, her mother stood before her, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Almost a reprieve,” Jo muttered beneath her breath.

“I’d like a word with you.”

Uh-oh.

“I can see you don’t want my help.” Edith ducked her head and tugged on the lapels of her jacket. “You wear whatever you think is appropriate for the occasion.

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