by Jolene Faye
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Cole grimaced and exhaled loudly as the cold drop pelted the back of his neck and chilled its way down his spine. Pulling at the collar of his jacket, he buttoned another button across his chest and held the thick material tight. The wind had been gentle this morning and the crispness of last night's rain lingered in the air, but the persistent drops of the melting sleet and snow falling from the barren tree branches made their presence known. Settling back into the slow comfortable gait of his stallions walk, Cole smiled thinking back. He had felt much better yesterday. He and Sybil had talked, bringing up the painful memories of Cecilia. Several times he'd started to tell her about the child, but the growing feelings he'd had for this woman stopped him. He knew he shouldn't have, but after feeling the softness of her body under his arms and the warmth of her breath against his chest again last night, he had to sneak a peek at her this morning before he left. He had pushed the door open slowly and stood for long minutes watching the rise and fall of the quilt as she breathed deeply. The soft glow of the fire in the fireplace shimmered amongst the golden strands of her hair as it lay splayed over her pillow. The long length of her lashes hid the beauty of the brown softness of her eyes but he couldn't get those eyes out of his mind long enough to forget them. As she stirred and the full roundness of her lips stretched into a lazy smile, he silently prayed the dream that tiptoed through her mind and brought on the beauty of her smile had something to do with him. He had to catch himself and stop from leaning down, pressing his lips against hers as he watched her peaceful sleep. His brow furrowed against the cool swirl of wind recalling the dark shadow of the long ragged scar trailing down her cheek, around the softness of her chin and disappearing under the quilt pulled snuggly around her neck. He knew so little about her, other than the fact she'd probably saved his life. He had so many questions. The scar, the crib, the deep shadows of loneliness he always saw tucked into the recesses of those beautiful brown eyes. The feelings that stirred in him during their days together needed answers. He'd played the sick card as long as he possibly could, but he wanted.. no, needed to know more and find out what these feelings were he had for the angel who'd rescued him from death. Cole laughed as he watched the black and white spotted bird dog jump through the thicker mounds of snow like a puppy. He hadn't even noticed his travel companion while he was lost in thoughts of Sybil Delacroix. Even her named whirled in his mind bringing the familiar warmth deep inside of him that he always found when she came near him. He had things he needed to know. He knew the grocer delivery man was a friend, but wanting to find out more information he decided that town would be the best place to start.
As he slid from his saddle and tied the reigns to the hitching post, Cole looked up and down the street of the small town. It wasn't a big town at all. A few stores, a couple of businesses that was all. He spotted the hotel, the livery, sheriff's office and a bank. Exhaling a quick sigh of relief, Cole was glad there were no signs of saloons or dance halls in the small town. He had seen more than enough of those kinds of places in his past and had no desire to find them once again. Scrapping his boots as he stepped onto the porch of the general store, Cole tipped his hat at an elderly couple emerging from the hotel next door. "Montgomery's not open yet young fellow," a crackly old voice rose over his shoulder as he looked over the building and saw the closed sign hanging in the window. Turning toward the elderly couple who'd made their way down the street toward him, Cole smiled, "Any idea when it opens?" The old lady's light blue eyes sparkled in the morning sunlight as she eyed him closely. Cole swallowed back a laugh imagining that everyone in town would probably look at him the same way, wondering who he was and what he was doing here. Extending his hand toward the old man, Cole hoped to ease the curiosity playing amongst the wrinkles of the elderly woman's face. "Oh, probably thirty minutes or so," the old man replied as he shook Cole's hand, "Montgomery was just getting his breakfast when we left. Iffing you need to speak with him, you might head into the hotel and grab a bite to eat. You can't miss him. He's a portly fellow." Nodding after giving his thanks, Cole watched as the old couple walked hand in hand down the street. His thoughts turning back to Sybil as he walked to the hotel, Cole thought that she was someone he could see spending the rest of his life with.
"What can I get for you," the abruptness of the woman's voice sent him back a step. Lost in thoughts of getting to know more about Sybil, Cole realized he'd been lingering just inside the doorway of the hotel's dining room. "Coffee please," Cole smiled as he pushed the heated blush from his cheek's and looked around the small but amazingly busy little dining room. "Excuse me ma'am, would that be Montgomery who owns the general store," he quested with a nod toward the large man sitting with his back to the door. Affirming his assumption with a nod, the woman disappeared behind a swinging door without another word. "Mr. Montgomery," Cole started as he walked toward the man's table extending his hand as the large store owner nodded him toward the empty chair across the table. "Just call me Monty," he mumbled around a forkful of eggs, "What can I do for you?" Cole introduced himself as the waitress placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. After a short one sided conversation explaining that he was new to the area and looking for work, Cole sipped the coffee and watched for any response from the man completely involved in his morning meal. As the man wiped his plate clean with the remaining piece of biscuit and pushed the plate to the side, he looked at Cole carefully and sipped at his coffee. After explaining the different businesses in town and how most were family owned and run, the store owner offered up the names of a few families that sometimes hired help around their farms. "Come to think of it," the portly man continued his rattling, "I overheard someone saying the other day that Jed was off on one of his wild goose chases. I don't know if she'd hire someone on, but it might not hurt to pay a visit to that Delacroix woman." Cole hid his smile behind another sip at the long empty coffee cup as the name teased thoughts in his mind. "With Jed and the Indians gone, she's out there all alone with that kid. She might need some help around that old place. Mind you though, don't stare at that hideous thing on her face when you see her," the store owner trailed off again looking around the room and motioning for the waitress. Cole felt his chest tighten at the man's words. How could anyone use the word hideous when talking about Sybil. Yes, the scar was a bit surprising, but the woman who wore it was a thing of beauty. Clearing his throat and the thoughts of cussing the man for all he was worth, Cole sat back in the chair and took another sip of his coffee. "Mable," the store owner started back up as the woman waddled to the table before looking back at Cole, "This here's my wife, Mable. She could tell you more over whether that woman would hire someone."
After a couple of hours in the hotel dining room, as was usual in small towns, Cole learned much about Sybil. The talk of her young daughter visiting family answered the questions he'd had about the crib, but no one seemed to speak about her father. The only mention of how she got the scar was the hazy recall of a few of the townsfolk about her showing up with half her face ripped off. As he nodded to everyone and stepped onto the porch of the hotel, Cole's mind was a turmoil filtering all the new information. No one had spoken of a husband or a father for the child she raised alone. "It couldn't be possible," he muttered before lifting his eyes to the heated stare coming from across the street. "Ah," he chuckled to himself as he sized up the man leaning against the doorframe of the law office across the street, "the father." Deciding with a nod by the glare from the tall dark haired man, Cole was almost certain word of him asking about Sybil had made its way into the law office. With the coldness of that stare, the man had to have something vested in his inquiries. As a thin layer of sweat formed over his brow, Cole turned from the gaze of the law man and headed toward the doctor's office. He had been feeling fine, but if he intended to find work and stick around, Cole needed to be sure he was a well as he felt.