by Anna Zogg
With amazement, Lenora watched as indecision flowed like a river through the men. Sidelong glances passed between them. A couple backed their horses away from Eli.
His face purpled. “What are you doing? This man needs to pay for his crimes.”
Instead of convincing them, Eli’s words had the opposite effect. More pulled away. Some muttered excuses under their breath. Others merely departed without a word.
Eli’s rant drove more away. In a matter of minutes, only he and the sheriff were left. Rage marring his face, he looked around as though in disbelief.
He turned to the sheriff. “Do something, Leland.”
The lawman’s shoulders hunched. “I—I can’t, Eli. It’s just us two against him. And you heard him. He’s a US marshal.”
“If you won’t do something, I will.” Eli reached for his rifle.
Cole drew his pistol, almost faster than Lenora could follow. However, a hollow click resounded in the hushed morning. Again, he pulled the trigger.
Eli let out a maniacal laugh and took careful aim at Cole. “You’re a dead man, Marshal.”
Without hesitation, Lenora lifted her rifle and squeezed the trigger.
With a scream, Eli flew backward, flailing for the saddle horn. As he righted himself, he clutched his arm.
Cole and the sheriff looked at her, expressions rippling with amazement.
None looked as surprised as Eli. Red blossomed across his shoulder and chest. “You shot me.” He let out a string of curses.
Clutching the gun, Lenora met his glare. “Get off my land, Hackett.” Her voice grew stronger. “Next time you—or any of your men—step foot on my property, I will shoot to kill.”
The sheriff gaped at her a moment longer, then grabbed the reins of his companion’s horse. “Let’s get out of here.”
Still shouting obscenities, Hackett allowed himself to be led away.
Cole remained standing in the yard, staring after them. The rifle clattered from Lenora’s shaking hands. Only when Toby’s arms slid about her did she realize she had burst into tears.
* * *
Lenora sat in what was left of her home, listening to the rhythmic shoveling that came from the backyard.
The soldiers had finally arrived from Fort Laramie. The first thing they had done was to tend to everyone’s wounds, then they cleaned up her house. Now, a few men were digging up her husband’s coffin. Even Toby had gone to watch.
Not her.
She remained seated, head lowered, bombarded again with the awful memories of that night.
“Take it,” Amos rasped. In the dusk, his skin appeared ashen, a corner of his mouth crusted with dried blood.
After her husband’s body had been found, Jeb Hackett had made a big show of providing a proper burial for his friend. The undertaker had done his work in town, but Lenora hadn’t gone to the viewing. Everyone apparently believed she couldn’t bear the sight of her husband laid out in the beautiful coffin Jeb had purchased.
Not true. She did not need to view Amos’s body because she had already seen death in his face.
The gravediggers had come to the ranch the next day and shoveled out a vast hole, but an impending blizzard had prevented them from burying Amos right away. In the middle of the night, Lenora had crawled into the pit and dug farther, deep enough to bury the satchel. She had pushed dirt over the money, confident that once Amos’s coffin rested on it, no one would think to look there.
And no one had.
How foolish to believe that once the satchel was buried, she would be free from its temptation. I am as guilty of keeping the money as Amos was in taking it. She now realized that in the back of her mind she had trusted in it—a “just in case.” And when things got rough, she had turned to it instead of God. Somehow she thought that the money—and even her own strength—could keep her and Toby safe.
The scripture that Cole had read on their wedding night came back to her. “...only You, Lord, can make me dwell in safety.”
She could not guarantee her security. The money certainly could not. How stupid to trust in either.
“Dear Lord,” she whispered, “forgive me...”
Humbled and repentant, she leaned forward to pray. In the quietness of her soul, she knew God forgave her, but what about Cole? Never would she forget the fierceness of his face and tone when he had verbally chastised her. She deserved the reprimand.
“Mrs. Cole?”
Lenora straightened and stared at the uniformed young man before her. Was he speaking to her? It took her a moment to realize she was Mrs. Cole. Still.
“Yes?” She smoothed back her hair.
“I wanted to tell you, ma’am, that we recovered the money.” He touched his hat, almost like a salute.
“Thank you for letting me know.”
Why was he smiling at her? Didn’t he know she was a thief by association?
“The marshal told us what you did, ma’am.” His face glowed. “That you’d hidden the money from the outlaws—to keep it safe. And that they’d tried to take it from you by force.”
“You mean last night’s shoot-out?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Nothing but admiration beamed from his eyes.
Cole was covering for her? Apparently he had told them something that made it appear as though she was some sort of heroine. She rose and smoothed her apron.
“And I wanted to let you know that we’ll put everything back the way it was. We’re so sorry we had to disturb the graves.” The young man was so sweet and seemed so young that she wanted to tousle his hair like she did Toby’s.
Instead, she folded her hands. “You are all very kind. Thank you.”
A brilliant smile broke out on his face. This time he did salute her and turn on his heel, military style, before marching away.
Lenora glanced around her home, again sighing. The officer in charge had insisted on leaving provisions since Cole would depart with the men. Not only that, they had reinforced the door and even nailed some fabric over the broken windows to keep out insects. Nothing could be done yet about the wall’s chipped plaster or the destroyed items. All her beautiful bone china had been shattered in the gun battle.
But she could rejoice that they lived.
Cole had done what he’d promised—put an end to Jeb Hackett’s reign of terror. Until he disbanded the gang, she knew he wouldn’t rest.
Then he would move on, doing the great work that God had called him to do.
She prayed Cole would someday find it in his heart to forgive her for not revealing the truth about the money.
Bowing her head, she determined not to stand in the way of his noble task. “Give me the strength, Lord, to love him enough to let him go.” She clasped her hands together. “No matter what happens, I trust in You for my future.”
* * *
“Is this it, Marshal?” A uniformed man hoisted a satchel out of the deep hole.
Favoring his injured arm, Cole took only a moment to pry open the bag and peer inside. “Appears so. Good work.”
While he had stood by, soldiers had dug up Amos Pritchard’s grave, removed the coffin and uncovered the money.
Cole handed the bag to an officer. “Safeguard this until we can return it to Cheyenne.”
“Yessir.”
“Make sure you restore everything back here.”
Without waiting, he limped toward the pasture to talk to the young man who skulked by the barn.
Toby fell into step beside him, not saying a word. Because he knew Cole was leaving?
Whistling for Nips, he grabbed his saddle off the ground. “Can I count on you to take care of Sheba and Rowdy while I’m away?”
The youngster nodded. When Cole said nothing more for a moment, he asked, “Are you really a marshal?”
>
“Yep.”
“How come you didn’t tell us?” His green eyes seemed to burn.
Cole took a deep breath before answering. “I had to keep it secret. At first. I planned to tell you the night of your birthday, but...”
“So you gotta leave?” Toby toed the grass. Because he wanted to hide his trembling chin?
“Yep.”
“For how long?”
“Dunno.” That depends on Lenora. With some awkwardness, he saddled and bridled his horse. The youngster helped since Cole favored his injured arm.
Out of the corner of his eye he watched Toby, who seemed ready to burst. “Did your ma talk to you? About the money?”
“Yeah.” He rested his hand on the pinto’s rump.
“And?”
His mouth worked a moment. “She told me it was wrong to bury the satchel. That she should’ve given it back right away.”
Though Cole was pleased they’d had the conversation, he was puzzled by her declaring she could have returned the money—given the satchel’s location and Hackett’s watchful eye.
Toby threw his arms about him. “I don’t want you to go.” A suppressed sniff followed.
Cole patted his back. “You know I gotta finish this job. Make sure the money gets returned to its rightful place.” All the while he had chatted with the commander, he had been aware that Toby was nearby. Listening.
Though Cole had downplayed Lenora’s wrongdoing, the youngster had no doubts about his father’s part. And no matter how much Cole wanted to stay, the money was his responsibility.
Or was he running away because of his uncertainty about Lenora?
In the hours that had followed her confession about the money, a storm had beat upon his thoughts. She could have told him about it—a long time ago—that she knew where it was. But she hadn’t. That lack of trust equated to a lack of love. Had he misunderstood all her tender gestures and soft glances? Had he merely imagined she had responded to his kiss?
Toby’s shaky exhale drew his attention.
Cole put his hand on the youngster’s shoulder. “I want you to take care of your ma for me. Can you do that?” He wanted to say so much more, but the tightness in his throat prevented him.
Mouth screwed with sorrow, Toby nodded.
Cole hesitated a moment, then held out his hand. With amazing composure, Toby shook it before turning and walking away.
As Cole surveyed the ranch, a peculiar shudder ran through him. As though he wouldn’t see the place again. Something inside him tore, creating a wound that would never heal.
Returning to the house, he contemplated that the hardest task yet awaited.
Lenora stood inside the great room, back toward him as she seemed to study the chaos. For the longest time she didn’t move. Had she truly not heard him stomp up the steps?
Cole spoke softly so he wouldn’t frighten her. “Your home will probably never look as beautiful as when I first saw it.”
Swiveling, she gasped as she pressed her hand against her breast.
“Didn’t mean to scare you, ma’am.” Funny how the first phrase he’d ever spoken to her seemed appropriate as he said his goodbyes.
“You’d think that after last night’s shoot-out I’d be more alert.”
“You should no longer have a reason to grab your rifle in fear.” That was Cole’s hope anyway. No Hackett would terrorize Lenora again.
She gulped as though seeking to speak in a normal tone. “Didn’t you say that there would always be Hacketts in the world? No matter what, I need to learn to keep my gun nearby.”
He stepped closer. “You shouldn’t have to, Lenora. If I had my way...” He paused at the sound of stamping horses. Was the company of soldiers assembling already?
Her gaze strayed to the door. Because she too knew they had only minutes?
She straightened. “At least you’ve accomplished what you set out to do here.” Her tone was matter-of-fact. Cool. “I’ll forever be grateful for your help in getting the ranch back on its feet. With God’s help, I feel confident I can make a go of this place.”
I? Not we? The meaning blared with crystal clarity. Since Cole had done his duty, his services were no longer required.
He was about to speak when one of the soldiers came up the steps. “Begging your pardon, Marshal. The commander told me to inform you he is about ready to depart.”
Out in the yard, bridles jingled and leather creaked.
“I’ll be right there.” After the soldier retreated, Cole turned back to her.
“Go. We’ll be okay.” She lifted her chin. “We’ll be more than fine now.”
Unable to believe his ears, he lingered. Had it all been a show on her part? As long as he had been useful, she had been kind. Now that he was no longer needed...dismissed.
So be it.
He squeezed the brim of his hat, prepared to march out of her life.
“Before you go...” She shoved one fist into the pocket of her apron. “I hope you can someday find it within yourself to forgive me.”
What?
“For hiding the money.” She rushed on as though he’d asked. “For not being brave enough to return it.”
Was she worried he would betray her?
“You couldn’t have.” He sought to reassure her. “Not with Hackett watching your place night and day.”
Her gaze again strayed to the door when a horse whinnied. “You’d better go. They’re waiting.”
It seemed they had nothing left to say to each other. In an instant, Cole decided to never return.
“I’m leaving Sheba and Rowdy.” They would be the perfect birthday gift for Toby.
“Of course. This is still half your ranch. A bargain’s a bargain.”
With a jerk, he straightened. He managed to say in a cool voice, “Take care.”
He was already down the stairs when her footsteps pattered behind him.
“Jesse.”
It took him a moment to realize she was calling him. By his given name?
“Wait. Please.” She fixed her gaze on him, hands clenched at her sides. Several times, she gulped air. “Thank you for all you’ve done for us. For me. I will never forget what you sacrificed. What you gave.”
He stared up at her.
“I will love you as long as I live.” Her beautiful lips trembled. “Even if I never see you again, I will never stop loving you.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she appeared to struggle to keep from saying more. He opened his mouth, uncertain if he was about to speak or because he couldn’t.
She loves me? And the next rapid-fire thought followed—I can’t leave. The longing to hold her in his arms rushed on him with such force that he nearly staggered.
Behind him, a horse snorted and another pawed the ground in impatience. “Ten hut!” One of the soldiers called the company into order as the commander joined the group.
“Marshal Cole, we are ready to depart,” someone called.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Yes. Thank you.”
“Go.” She nodded in encouragement, her voice again under control. “Finish what you came to do.”
Finish...
Stark reality cooled the burgeoning recklessness that fired his heart. Cole had to finish the job he had promised to do—take down the Hackett gang. As long as one member roamed free, Lenora would not be safe. Cole had to ensure her future, even if he was never part of it.
Turning his back and walking away from her was the hardest thing he had ever done. As he mounted Nips, his gaze kept straying to her.
She lifted her hand in farewell while he gave one sharp nod in acknowledgment. After moving to the front where the commander waited, Cole listened to the men fall into formation as they trod down the dusty ro
ad.
He couldn’t help but cast multiple glances at the trio behind him—Blister barking his farewells, Toby smudging his tear-streaked face with the heel of one hand and Lenora stiffening with a calm, but grim semblance of a smile.
She loves me.
The wonder of that truth pounded in him with every clomp of his horse’s hooves. Some day, Lord willing, he would return to her.
Turning in his saddle, he forced his thoughts to what lay ahead. After he returned the money to Cheyenne, he needed to hunt down the remaining members of the Hackett gang. If they were smart, they would have high-tailed it out of Wyoming Territory by now. Or holed up somewhere.
It didn’t matter. For Lenora’s sake, Cole would not rest until every one of them was dead or in jail. He wouldn’t give up, even if...
The harsh truth stared him in the face. Cole clamped his teeth together so hard that his jaw hurt.
I won’t give up, even if it takes the rest of my life.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Tighten that rope,” Lenora yelled when the calf threatened to break free. Though the heifer couldn’t escape from the corral, she didn’t relish the idea of chasing it. Like they had the last two.
Toby wrapped the rope around the saddle horn and wheeled Rowdy so that the line grew taut. He kept the bawling calf immobile long enough for her to brand it.
“Three down, fifteen to go,” she muttered as she thought of the remaining cattle in the back pasture.
For several days, she and Toby had rounded up the unbranded stragglers. And late this morning, they began the task. Their routine was still inefficient, but they would have to improve if they hoped to make a go of the ranch. Before winter, Lenora planned to sell half the herd. Not just the steers. With God’s help, she and Toby would be able to manage a smaller operation.
