WOMEN OF SURPRISE 01: A Surprise For Abigail

by Tracey J. Lyons

  Continuing their walk, it was hard for her to be lieve she'd actually asked this man to be a part of such a deception and, furthermore, that he'd agreed to do as she'd asked.

  Opening her mouth, she was going to thank him; however, the words were abruptly cut off by the sudden appearance of Wanda McCurdy.

  "Fancy running into the two of you!" Wanda said, launching herself at Cole. "Look at you."

  Abigail suspected the woman had been lying in wait for them. Her mouth dropped open when Wanda ran her hands over Cole's freshly shaven face, and white hot fury shot through her when he did nothing to stop her.

  "I know, quite a difference. Wait until we get where there's some light, you'll see I cut my hair too."

  Wanda leaned into him, saying in a breathy voice, "I can't wait."

  Cole gave the woman one of those slow, lanquid smiles, showing all of his white teeth. Wanda McCurdy fairly swooned at the sight. Abigail wished they were closer to the rain barrel. A little splash of cold water tossed in their faces would help cool the situation and she'd get a lot of satisfaction being the one to do it.

  While it had been her idea to make Wanda think Cole was attracted to her, she didn't expect the sight of them together to bother her this much. Forcing herself to play along, she ordered, "It will have to wait until the morning. Mr. Stanton is due back in his jail cell."

  She nodded, curtly, at the flaming redhead and, grabbing hold of Cole's sleeve, pulled him down the street to the sheriff's office. Once inside she gladly opened the cell door and shoved him in.

  An entire week had passed and, for all intents and purposes, it appeared barely a civil word had been exchanged between Abigail and Cole. Surprise being the small town that it was, the gossips that gathered in Mr. Jules' store and the men who shared a drink at the end of the day thought they knew all about the sheriff and her prisoner not being on speaking terms.

  While for the most part, the townsfolk were figuring that this too would pass, Miss Margaret Monroe Sinclair and her niece, Lydia, weren't so sure. They were sitting on the veranda overlooking the town. From their perch the women could see just about the entire town.

  Sipping at the tart lemonade, Lydia shook her head in dismay. "I've never seen Abigail so upset and I know I've never seen her this angry before." She paused, taking another sip. "Come to think of it, I can't recall ever seeing her in such a tizzy."

  "I'm sure when Edwin left her she was in a tizzy," Margaret said.

  "That was different. I don't think she was at tracted to Edwin. Leastwise not in the way she's attracted to Mr. Stanton."

  Margaret mulled the statement over, sipping out of the tall glass. The sound of hammers banging nails into the roof of the new schoolhouse echoed in the small valley. Margaret smiled. Her plan was moving along quite nicely, she thought. The school would be finished by fall, and she had two of her precious nieces by her side. Maggie would be along anytime now.

  The problem was Abigail. Margaret wondered when her niece had become so stubborn? She'd never been that way before. A little backbone was one thing, but not listening to reason was quite another. And right now Abigail wasn't listening to anyone.

  "There are such sparks between them when they are together," Lydia mused.

  "I have to agree. Why, the other night, when they entered the dining room, arm in arm, I thought they looked so lovely."

  Lydia swatted at a big yellow bumblebee that buzzed in front of her face. "They did. This is all Wanda McCurdy's fault. Everything was going along fine until she showed up in town."

  "Yes, I have to agree. Miss McCurdy definitely has designs on Mr. Stanton."

  "And Abigail thinks she's no match for the ghastly woman," Lydia said, slowly.

  They fell silent, each lost in her own thoughts. Finally, Margaret said, "Well, she's wrong. Abigail is a beautiful young, intelligent woman with a lot to offer the right man."

  Their voices one, Lydia and Margaret spoke, "And Cole Stanton is the right man."

  "How are we going to get those two together?" Margaret asked.

  "They ought to be locked up in the same jail cell," Lydia joked.

  "Why, Lydia Louise Monroe, what a brilliant idea! I always knew you were the devious one. This is perfect."

  Putting their heads together they whispered secret plans back and forth for a few hurried minutes. Smiling, they clinked their glasses together, toasting their scheme.

  From where he stood in Judson's lumber yard, Cole was able to see the comings and goings of one stubborn female sheriff. Near as he could tell, she was still worked up over Wanda's brash antics. Lord help him, but he didn't like hurting anyone, least of all Abigail, but getting close to Wanda had been her idea. He was only obliging her wishes.

  It was the only way to prove his innocence, and she shouldn't be so upset by how well things were going.

  Wanda McCurdy held his future in her hands. It looked like the said future was going to be shorter than he'd hoped because rumor had it that the circuit judge was slowly making his way to Surprise. In fact, Cole had been informed by Mr. Wagner just this morning that the judge was presiding over court just thirty miles north of Catskill.

  Time was running out. And that was why, when Wanda had sashayed herself over here with a picnic basket brimming with food, he acted thrilled to see her. Cole wanted his freedom back. Wanda had set him up, he was certain of it, and with the sheriff on his side it would be easier to prove.

  Of course life being the way it was when women were involved, it didn't help any that since their moonlit stroll, he'd been thinking about the sheriff in a rather unlawful way. Looking forward to the end of the day when she'd walk him back to the jail, thinking about goodnight kisses and how her soft skin would feel beneath his fingertips.

  He'd worked so hard for so long at not putting down roots and now he wasn't sure that he'd be able to turn his back on this town as easily as he had all the others. Cole was falling in love with Abigail Monroe and there was only one thing he could do to stop it; leave town.

  He had to get Wanda to admit to the robbery before it was too late, before there was no turning back.

  "Cole, are you coming?" Wanda batted her long brown eyelashes at him. "I thought we could eat over by the big oak tree."

  It didn't escape his notice that this particular spot was in plain view. Of course they'd sat under this tree a time or two before, but that was when he'd been teasing Abigail. Putting down his hammer, he joined Wanda. Taking the heavy wicker basket from her, he followed her to the bench.

  Smoothing down the folds of her voluminous red skirts, she seated herself on the bench, saying, "My, my. What a lovely day for a picnic."

  "Yes, ma'am, it sure is." Cole struggled to be as polite as could be. He was going to get the truth out of her one way or the other starting today.

  "You know, Cole, I still can't get used to seeing you without your beard and long hair." Reaching into the basket she took out a waxpaper-wrapped sandwich. Patting the space next to her on the bench, she bade him to sit next to her.

  He did and, unwrapping the sandwich, found he'd lost his appetite. Abigail was walking out of the mercantile with some papers in her hand. Glancing up and down both sides of the street, her gaze swung to them. Cole felt his mouth go dry. Shoot. He felt like a cad sitting here with Wanda.

  She nodded her approval. Though, even from this distance he could tell by the set of her shoulders her feelings were hurt.

  "Cole? Is something wrong?"

  Forcing his attention back to the woman seated next to him, Cole shook his head. It was time to get down to business. The sunlight glinted off Wanda's earrings. Cole darn near choked on his sandwich. If this woman was the jewel thief, she was as bold as brass wearing the stolen goods out in public.

  "Lovely earrings. Where did you get them from?"

  Reaching up she toyed with the sapphires. "Oh these silly things, they're just some costume pieces that my mother left me." She laughed a shaky nervous sound.

  Yeah and
pigs could fly. He'd have to find out from Abigail the exact description of the pieces stolen. If she ever started speaking to him again, he'd ask her.

  "How much longer before the judge arrives?"

  "I heard he's presiding in court about thirty miles from here. Should be any day now, I imagine." Cole wanted her confession in such a bad way, that he leaned over and took her hand in his. "I'm afraid our time together is coming to an end."

  Leaning in close to him she said, oh so softly, "It doesn't have to be that way. You could escape and go away with me."

  Now there was a plan. He cupped her face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs along the smooth surface of the gemstones in her earrings. These were definitely the real thing.

  Her big blue eyes searched his face. "You look so different, so handsome. You know you don't resemble the Wanted poster one single bit now."

  He froze. When had she seen the Wanted poster? As far as he knew Abigail had kept it in her desk drawer since arresting him. Nuzzling his nose alongside her ear, he went in for the kill. "Where did you see the poster?"

  Was it his imagination or did Miss McCurdy just tense up? Pulling away from her, he studied her face. She was looking at a spot just above his left shoulder; still he didn't mistake the flicker of hesitation that appeared in her eyes. The one sure sign she knew she'd messed up her story.

  "I saw it hanging on the board outside of the Sheriff's office." Running her hand down his sleeve, she asked, "Must we spoil our day with such disturbing talk. The judge will be here soon and your innocence will be proven. Then we can go away together."

  Wanda was living in a dream world if she thought for one minute that he'd be going away with her. Given the option, he'd rather stay incarcerated.

  "We'll have to see about that."

  Cole stood, packing up the remains of their lunch. "I have to get back to work, Wanda. Thanks for the sandwiches."

  Before he could escape, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. "There's more where that came from."

  "I'll keep that in mind." Turning around he headed back to the lumber yard. He'd still a full afternoon of work to be done. Alexander wanted him to finish cutting the floor planking for the schoolhouse. Cole hadn't felt this satisfied with a day's work in a very long time. He realized how much he'd missed working with his hands.

  He hadn't gone halfway across the yard when he got the feeling he was being watched. Slowly he looked back over his shoulder and there in the doorway of the Sheriff's office with her arms folded across her chest, stood Abigail.

  Even from this distance he could see that she looked angrier than a bunch of bees knocked out of their hive. He braced his feet apart and put his hands on his hips, wondering if she were just putting on a show for the busybodies? She was striding towards him at full steam, her anger looking fairly convincing to him.

  By the time Abigail reached him, the smooth skin across her cheekbones had reddened and she was slightly out of breath. Looking at her, it finally struck him that she wasn't playacting, Sheriff Abigail Monroe was about ready to pop!

  "It's time to go back to jail."

  "I haven't finished cutting the wood for today's order."

  "You can finish it tomorrow. Right now I'm taking you back to jail." With little fanfare, she grabbed his arm and led him back across the street.

  By the time they reached the building it was clear that her anger wasn't going away anytime soon. He allowed her to take him inside without uttering a word of protest or explanation.

  They were both surprised to find Lydia there.

  "Lydia, what on earth are you doing inside the jail cell?" Abigail demanded to know.

  "I scared a chipmunk in here by mistake. The little scamp ran right under my skirts the minute I opened your door. Then it ran right past me into this cell." Her green eyes widened in innocence. "I can't seem to get the creature to come out from behind the bunk."

  Cole moved past Abigail. "Let me see if I can get him."

  Abigail hurried along behind him, standing just inside the cell while Cole knelt on the floor, peering under the bunk.

  "I don't see anything."

  "He ran along the back. Abigail, you might have to look on the other end."

  While the two of them were hunkered down on the floor looking for Lydia's chipmunk, she slowly backed out of the cell.

  Neither Cole nor Abigail knew what hit them, until the steel-barred door clanked closed behind them.

  Abigail sprang to her feet, shouting at her cousin, "Lydia Louise Monroe, you let me out of here right this instant!"

  Wrapping her hands around the steel bars, she pulled back and forth, trying to release the lock on the door.

  "Let me out!"

  Lydia backed towards the front door. "I can't. You have to stay in there until you and Mr. Stanton settle your differences."

  "We don't have any differences!" Abigail shouted back.

  "Abigail, this is for your own good," Lydia said in soothing tones. "There's a box in the corner with some dinner in it."

  "Lydia!" Abigail yelled. Lydia pulled the shades down on all the windows, tacked a DO NOT DISTURB sign to the front door, waved good-bye and gently closed the door behind her.

  Abigail wanted to throttle her dear, sweet cousin and her aunt, who more than likely had played a part in this. "She ambushed us," Abigail said in dismay. "Lydia was laying in wait for us!"

  Resting her chin on a cold bar, she looked longingly out into her office at the key ring hanging tauntingly by the front door. There was no way to reach them. Sighing, Abigail resigned herself to the fact that she was stuck in here until some kind soul came by to let them out.

  Behind her, the bunk creaked under Cole's weight as he sat down. He was definitely taking this better than she was. Slowly she turned around to face him. Leaning against the cell door, she carefully folded her arms across her chest.

  "Looks to me like our little plan backfired. Got any bright ideas on how to get us out of here, Sheriff?"

  "Don't you go blaming me for this, Cole Stanton! I had no way of knowing what Lydia was up to."

  "It looks to me like we're going to have a long time to think about that, aren't we?"

  Angry, Abigail didn't see the point in answering him. Though, it did warm her heart just a bit to see that Cole appeared to be just as unhappy as she was about their situation. He looked rather glum sitting there with his elbows on his knees and his chin resting in his hands. Nibbling on her lower lip, she wondered how long they would be able to remain silent.

  The clock on the wall on the right side of her desk ticked away the seconds, which turned into minutes, which ever so slowly turned into half an hour. In the space of that time neither of them had moved very far. She'd shifted from her right foot to the left, and Cole had taken his head out of his hands which now dangled listlessly between his legs.

  Their eyes met.

  "Are you attracted to Wanda McCurdy?"

  "Do you think I'm guilty of robbery?"

  Simultaneously they responded, "Is that what you think?"

  She almost smiled then, but the time had come to face their problems head on. The first of which was the question of his guilt or innocence. She wasn't ready to face what her jealous reaction to Wanda McCurdy was all about.

  "Honestly, Cole. I don't know whether or not you're guilty. All I know is until you shaved your beard off you fit the description on the Wanted poster. And the timing for the crime may have fit a time when you were passing through Albany."

  She longed to tell him that deep down in her heart, she knew he wasn't capable of such an act. Something held her back. Perhaps it was a cautionary reaction. She'd mistakenly given her heart to Edwin and look where that had gotten her. There was no way she'd make the same blunder twice.

  Tired of standing, she sat down at the opposite end of the bunk. The clock on the wall chimed six times. Silently Abigail counted the hours until daylight, twelve. Twelve long hours with nowhere to go and no one to talk to except a ma
n she wholeheartedly wanted to loathe, and yet couldn't bring herself to do so.

  Abigail's stomach began to growl with hunger pangs. Eyeing the box that Lydia had referred to, she wondered what delicious food Anna had prepared for a jailhouse dinner?

  "Are you hungry? Because Lydia left us some food if you are." Shifting her weight on the bunk, Abigail leaned over and opened the lid to the box. Wonderful, delectable scents filled the air.

  Was that fried chicken she was smelling, and apple pie? A part of her was delighted with the find, but a bigger part of her was still angry with her family for locking her in here with Cole. She was also angry with herself. She'd been so preoccupied doing her job that she hadn't seen this coming.

  Peering around her, Cole said, "Looks to me like they thought of everything."

  "Didn't they, though," Abigail murmured. She could feel Cole's warm breath against the back of her neck.

  Handing him a plate, she proceeded to fill it with chicken, biscuits, pickled beans and a slice of apple pie. After doing the same for herself, she gingerly set the plate on her lap. Trying not to notice his close proximity, Abigail bit into a piece of chicken.

  They ate in silence and when they were finished Cole reached out to take her plate. Their hands brushed, sending a shock of delight down her arm. Determined not to look him directly in the eyes, Abigail concentrated on staring at a spot just to the right of his head.

  She was quiet as he cleaned up, putting the plates back into the box. Abigail studied him. His brow was furrowed in concentration. Cole's shoulders were broad and his hands callused from working at the lumber yard. Blinking, she realized that he was looking at her. His gaze darkened in intensity as his face softened.

  "I'm not interested in Wanda McCurdy." It was a statement, one that brooked no argument.

  Smoothing the folds on her skirt, she replied, "It sure looks to me and the rest of the town, like you are interested."