Emily’s breath caught in her chest, and her stays pinched her ribs. Was that a threat? And if so, how did this man know of her difficult situation? She’d not written a word in her letters about her true circumstances or why it was necessary to leave Boston.

Aware suddenly that he still cupped her elbow, she pulled her arm away. “He doesn’t want to marry me.”

He held a ring-laden hand to his ear. “What?”

Lifting her voice over the commotion outside, she repeated herself. “He doesn’t want to marry me.”

“Ah, so that’s the problem. You overheard our…discussion.” Shifting the shotgun to his left hand, he took her by the arm and steered her down the hall. She tried pulling away, but that only made him tighten his hold. “Trust me, my nephew didn’t mean what he said. When it appeared that you wouldn’t show, he was just trying…”

“What?” She could hardly hear for the turmoil outside.

He stopped and released his hold on her. “I said, my nephew was trying to save face,” he repeated, his voice louder this time. “A man doesn’t like to be jilted by his bride. But I do believe marriage is best. For you, especially.”

His meaningful look gave her pause. It certainly sounded like a threat. And if so, then he wasn’t bluffing; he knew her true identity. But how?

Outside, the cattle kept running; their pounding hooves echoed the hammering of her heart. She dragged air into her mouth and tried to breathe.

Apparently taking her silence for consent, he crooked his right elbow. His demeanor suggested he’d made some sort of conquest. “Shall we?”

Feeling trapped both physically and emotionally, Emily hesitated.

“You won’t be sorry,” he coaxed.

She was already sorry, but there didn’t appear to be much she could do about it. Alone in a strange town with hardly a dime to her name, she didn’t have much in the way of options. She only hoped that the man’s nephew was as kind as his letters suggested.

With more than a little anxiety, she slipped her arm through the offered elbow, and together, they walked to the judge’s chambers.

Neither the groom nor the judge appeared to hear them enter the room. Instead, their attention remained riveted on the mass confusion outside the courthouse window.

The uncle tapped the floor with his shotgun to get their attention. “Let’s get this wedding over with.” His deep voice barely penetrated the clamor that seemed even louder in this room than in the hall.

Both men turned. The man she was here to marry stared at her with raised eyebrows. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” he asked.

Emily opened her mouth to say something, but the older man by her side answered for her. “She’s sure.” He shot her a warning look, as if daring her to disagree.

The judge shook his head. “No time,” he said with a glance at his pocket watch.