The Marshal's Mission

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The Marshal's Mission Page 19

by Anna Zogg


  She would have to.

  Her eyes rested on the things that she’d have to abandon. Her mother’s remaining dishes. The tambour mantel clock. Best to go on horseback with as little as possible. She couldn’t chance taking the buckboard. They would have to travel with all secrecy and speed.

  Could they reach Cheyenne without being intercepted by Jeb or his men?

  “Ma.” Toby made a face, voice betraying puzzlement.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I asked what kind of cake you’re gonna make.”

  Lenora glanced between him and Cole. “Well, I think that is something for you to decide.”

  “Spice cake.” Her son didn’t hesitate. “With lots of frosting.”

  “Hmm.” She pretended to think. “You mean, the kind with cinnamon and nutmeg?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just like spice cake.”

  Though Cole chuckled, it sounded forced. His deep blue eyes met hers.

  “Do you like spice cake, too, Cole?” She caught her breath, dying to know. After all, this might be the last thing she baked for him.

  “Anything you make, I like.”

  “But is there a type of cake you prefer above all else?” For some reason, she desperately needed to discover his favorite. If necessary, she would bake two cakes. Who cared about the extravagance?

  “Chocolate is too rich. Some sponge cake is too boring. Spice sounds perfect.”

  “Ma makes the best spice cake.” Toby clutched his stomach and groaned in exaggerated ecstasy.

  “I know.” Cole nodded. “The best in Laramie County, I’m sure.”

  Her son giggled.

  Again, Cole’s gaze met hers. Wouldn’t he miss this? The times he had with her and Toby?

  A moot point. He had a job to do. Obviously that took precedence over everything else. Including his personal life.

  Then one unanswered question pierced her soul.

  What would he do when he found out she’d hidden the bank money? She wouldn’t be able to bear the disgust on his face. Her heart would split clean in two because...

  Because I love you, Cole. She swallowed the words even as she admitted them to herself. So very much.

  Lenora rose, the dishes clattering as she bumped the table. If she didn’t get away from him, she would begin to bawl. “I’m tired. Please just...just leave the mess. I’ll take care of it in the morning.”

  “But what about our reading?” Toby’s young face wrinkled. “And prayers?”

  “I’m sorry.” She waved in Cole’s direction unable to risk pleading for help. “Good night.”

  She hurried into her bedroom and shut the door. To her credit, she managed to stave off tears. As dishes clattered and chairs scraped, she pressed the blanket to her mouth.

  Dear Lord, how she loved him. For the thousandth time she wished Amos had never dropped off that satchel of money. Because now she knew if she admitted to having the money, she would lose Jesse Phillips Cole forever.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “That’s it. Keep a good, steady rhythm.” Cole demonstrated how to swing a lasso. Though he wasn’t very good at it, Toby excelled after his brief instruction. “Hey, I think you’ve been practicing behind my back.”

  The youngster laughed.

  The morning sun momentarily blinded Cole as they stood beside the corral, lassoing a fence post.

  “It’ll be a whole different matter with a moving target.” He coiled the rope and merely watched the brand-new eleven-year-old.

  All the while they practiced, Cole kept attuned to the house. Though Lenora had not yet called them for breakfast, they were passing the time as they waited. All the pressing, early-morning chores were done. Cole had even removed the one stitch on his cheek since the gash had healed enough.

  Even though he was prepared, he still jumped when Lenora yanked open the door and called her son.

  “Yes, Ma?”

  Cole followed him to the porch. It took no great powers of discernment to see she’d had a bad night. Pink blotches marred her pale cheeks. If he’d had any doubts about her crying, a chafed nose attested to the handkerchief that had scrubbed her skin raw.

  “Could you collect the eggs for me?” She avoided looking at Cole. “And I need my apron. I think I left it hanging in the root cellar.”

  “I’ll get that,” Cole volunteered.

  She barely met his gaze. “Thanks.” Without another word, she went back inside.

  When Toby stood staring after her, a worried frown on his face, Cole put his hand on the youngster’s shoulders. “Let’s do as she says.”

  Together they walked down the porch steps.

  “Has Ma been crying?” He screwed up his face as he looked at Cole.

  “I reckon.” He clenched his teeth to keep from saying more.

  “Why do you suppose?”

  Cole took care to form a reasonable explanation. “Maybe she’s worried about your growing up.”

  “What?” He scratched his head.

  “You know that talk we had about women’s feelings? Well, mothers are even more sensitive. If your ma imagines you growing up and moving away, she’s bound to be sad.”

  Toby’s mind worked on that a bit. He clenched his fists. “I’m never leaving.”

  Cole smiled. Hadn’t he himself once said that to his mother? As a twelve-year-old, he had declared with youthful assurance that he would always stay by her side. He never understood her chuckle at the time. Because it hid tears?

  In the years since Andrew’s death, he had said goodbye to her over and over. Now he understood her stoic face and red-rimmed eyes. Did she worry if that would be the last time she saw him?

  “Make sure to say that to your ma, Toby. Tell her you’ll never move away. And give her a big hug when you do, okay? Right after you collect the eggs.”

  The youngster looked taken aback by his fierce tone. “If you want.”

  “I mean it. I want you to vow to me you’ll do that.”

  Toby’s eyes widened. “I’m not supposed to swear.”

  “A vow isn’t swearing. It’s a real serious promise. Okay?”

  “Sure. I promise.”

  “Okay then.” Cole strode to the root cellar.

  He stood just inside the door, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. Why had he said such a fool thing? Because he felt guilty about leaving Lenora. Like he could assuage that by having her son declare the very thing Cole himself should say to her.

  He leaned his hand on a rough, wooden column. “God,” he prayed aloud, “how can I leave her?”

  If the Lord had indeed led Cole there, wouldn’t it be foolish to go?

  In moments, a plan formed. The next time they went into Silver Peaks for supplies, he would send a telegram and resign as a US marshal. He would drop the Hackett gang investigation. Since Cole had no evidence, he couldn’t pin the robbery on him. No doubt the man would slip up in the future, but Cole didn’t need to be the one to bring him to justice. If Hackett showed up again on the ranch, he would deal with the outlaw as befitting the situation.

  At peace with his plans, Cole sighed.

  Lenora needed him. And Toby.

  He bowed his head. “And Lord, You know I need them.”

  It was time to hang up his star and settle down. Right here. Starting today.

  The moment he made the decision, a huge weight lifted from his soul. He smiled as he anticipated the look on Lenora’s face when he shared the news. The next tears she shed would be ones of joy.

  He edged into the narrow root cellar, looking for her apron. The dark blue item hung from a nail toward the back. As Cole grabbed it, a piece of paper fluttered to the ground.

  What was that? When he picked it up, his fing
ers ascertained it was money. He carried the paper outside and squinted at the bank note. Breath caught in his throat.

  The five-dollar bill was from the Cheyenne bank robbery—the series date and charter confirmed it. The red seal and serial numbers seemed to blaze in the sunlight.

  Realization slammed into his mind. Then the next thought, even more piercing, followed quickly.

  Lenora lied to me.

  Crushing the note in his fist, Cole looked toward the house. His heart—so tender and open moments before—hardened into a block of stone.

  * * *

  Lenora jumped when the door slammed open so hard it banged against the wall. Even Toby stopped talking midsentence as they both turned to see Cole standing in the doorway. A chill ran through her. She had never before seen such cold fury. The still-healing cut on his cheek throbbed red.

  She brushed off her hands. “What is it?”

  “Here’s your apron.” He thrust it at her.

  Without a word, she took it and put it on. What was wrong with him?

  Expression tight, he avoided her gaze as he yanked a chair out and sat down.

  The eggs, popping in the frying pan, drew her attention. Lenora returned to the stove and dished them onto three plates. A quick check of her biscuits showed them nearly done. As she hastened to finish preparing the meal, she half listened to Toby and Cole chat. Her son bubbled with excitement while Cole answered in monosyllables.

  Finally she had assembled everything on the table.

  A little out of breath, she sat. “Toby, would you please say the blessing?”

  Lenora held out her hands for prayer. When Cole didn’t reach across the table as usual, she glanced at him. His eyes were hard, jaw set. Not only that, but his fist remained balled on the table’s surface. She gulped. The message blared loud and clear. He would not hold her hand during prayer. Her fingers shriveled back into her lap.

  As she clasped her son’s palm, she ducked her head. Was Cole angry at her? Why?

  She squeezed her eyes shut, imagining she understood. Last night, he must have heard her crying. Perhaps he was irritated that she didn’t control her emotions.

  Amos had often said she wore her feelings on her sleeve. More than once, he had chastised her about it being bad for Toby. A blatant display of womanly emotions would only stunt his growth as a man.

  As her son prayed, she vowed to hide what Cole’s imminent departure did to her heart.

  I shouldn’t be so selfish. I need to be braver.

  His task was noble. She shouldn’t allow her personal feelings to get in the way of his very important job.

  But after he left on the morrow, she would immediately begin preparations to travel to Cheyenne—and pray Jeb wouldn’t show up at the ranch first. She and Toby would have to wait until dusk before departing. It would be safer.

  Before he finished his prayer, she dared to interrupt. “And Lord, thank You for my son, Tobias Joseph. Thank You that he’s turning out to be such a fine young man. I pray...” She paused as her voice cracked. “I pray that he would grow up to be like Cole. A man of integrity and high ideals. One who pursues what is right no matter the cost.” Again, she stopped, afraid she would burst into tears. “Amen.” The word squeaked out.

  She kept her head lowered to hide her stinging eyes. When she glanced at Cole, she expected to see a softened expression. At least one of understanding. But no. If nothing else, his face seemed even more chiseled in stone.

  Did he think she was trying to manipulate him by her prayers?

  She tried to swallow the huge lump in her throat. If only she could explain. Tell him that no matter what, she supported his mission to hunt down Jeb Hackett and others like him.

  But not now. She wouldn’t spoil Toby’s special day. As far as her son knew, Cole was there to stay.

  After picking at her fried egg and biscuit for several minutes, she pushed her plate away. Toby and Cole seemed to eat with relish. Good. That was the way it should be.

  “Before I forget...” Lenora went into the bedroom and soon returned with her son’s gift tied in a kerchief.

  Toby’s eyes widened. “A present? Now?”

  “Why not? I figured you’d want it sooner than later.”

  He unwrapped the gift. “Wow. This was Pa’s.” He held up the bowie knife sheathed in leather. With care, he slid out the long blade.

  “I hope I don’t need to remind you to take care handling that.”

  “No, ma’am.” Toby’s voice betrayed his awe as his gaze fixed on the shiny metal.

  Lenora grinned at his phrase, one he likely picked up from Cole. For his sake, she explained to Toby, “Your pa had that before he and I married. It may have once belonged to his father.”

  “My grandpa who died on the Oregon Trail?”

  “Yes. Grandpa Joseph.” From what she knew of the bits and pieces of history, Amos’s mother had made it to North Platte where she settled before her death. He was only fifteen when he became an orphan.

  Not much older than Toby.

  Struggling with the similarities, she cleared her throat to circumvent tears.

  “I have to finish your present.” Cole spoke quietly as he looked at her son. “That snakeskin hatband. Sorry it’s not quite ready.”

  “That’s all right.” Toby grinned. “Hey, Ma, can I go out and try my new knife?”

  Since he was already halfway to the door, she couldn’t find it in herself to tell him no. In a way, she hoped Cole would accompany him, but he seemed content to remain. He even slouched in his chair as he stretched out one leg to the side of the table.

  “Go ahead,” she finally answered. “But be careful. I don’t want to have to stitch you up.”

  Toby’s footsteps clomped out of earshot, followed by Blister’s excited bark. That too faded. Except for the persistent chirp of a bird outside, nothing sounded.

  Lenora slowly began to clear the dishes. The tin plates rattled dully while the pottery clattered. A glance proved Cole watched her, eyes narrowed, mouth pursed. The absence of talking wore on her until she thought she would scream.

  She was nearly finished cleaning up when he coughed.

  “Found something of yours.”

  Lenora swiveled and gasped at the two crumpled bills that lay on the table. Immediately she recognized them. The ones Jeb had left.

  She raised her eyes to Cole. “Where did you get them?”

  “Root cellar. One fell out of your apron pocket when I picked it up.” His eyes narrowed as he studied her.

  She shuddered as though the bills were two rattlers preparing to strike.

  “Take them away. Do whatever you want with them.” Pushing out her hand, she backed away. Now she recalled shoving them into her apron after she’d retrieved them from the tin can.

  “Don’t you need them? I seem to recall you lacking funds.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t want that money.” She stared at the bills, disgusted that she even considered using them.

  “Why?” Cole rose from the chair, his voice like flint steel.

  “I...” Intent on the paper, she barely glanced at him. “I want nothing to do with Jeb or his so-called generosity. Get them out of my house.”

  “Hackett? What does he have to do with this?”

  She backed away even more, as though to distance herself from the memory of Jeb’s visit. “Last time he was here, he pretended concern for my welfare. He left that money. Like he was trying to buy me or...” Revulsion rippled through her. “That was before he decided to just take what he thought was his.” Her voice rose. “If you don’t want them...”

  She brushed by Cole and grabbed the bills. In three steps, she twisted open the stove’s door handle with her apron.

  “Lenora, stop.” Cole grabbed her arm
before she could throw the bills into the flames.

  “Let me go!”

  One moment his grip tightened and the next he yanked her into his arms. He held her so tightly she could hardly breathe.

  For mere seconds, she allowed his embrace. The next, she shoved against his chest. “Don’t do this to me, Cole. I can’t... I can’t...” A sob choked her words.

  He didn’t heed her cry, but merely tightened his arms about her. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he whispered over and over.

  Because he regretted what Jeb had done to her? She had no idea what else he could mean.

  With all her strength, she shoved herself from his embrace. “Please, please, burn that money.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?” Why would he want to keep it, especially now that he knew where it had come from? Those bills represented only pain to her.

  Cole uncrumpled one banknote and held it between fingers and thumbs. “Because this money—that you got from Jeb Hackett—proves he was one of the Cheyenne bank robbers.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Do you have everything you need?” Lenora’s eyes appeared coffee-colored in the noonday sun.

  She is so beautiful. Cole’s heart tightened in longing. “I believe so.”

  “And you remember the names of the other gang members?”

  He nodded as they lingered beside the corral. Rowdy blew air through his nostrils, tossing his head and letting Cole know he was raring to go.

  His saddlebags were packed with extra ammunition for his pistol and rifle. One incriminating bill remained with Lenora while he carried the other—a precaution in case things went wrong. He had water and food. Nothing else remained.

  Except his goodbye.

  Cole devoured her with his gaze, memorizing every beloved feature. Her honey brown hair, curls woven with gold. The trembling of her lips as she tried in vain to appear brave. The soft curve of her cheek.

  He swallowed, trying to dislodge what his departure did to his heart. “And you’ll explain to Toby why I had to go?”

 

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