The Marshal's Mission

by Anna Zogg

  “For me?” His jaw dropped when he saw the candy. “Wow, thanks!” He popped two into his mouth.

  Lenora nearly laughed out loud at his overly wide eyes and ecstatic expression.

  “Want some, Ma?” His teeth and tongue blackened as he chewed.

  “No, thank you.” Besides it was too much fun watching him.

  Cole also declined, giving her another reason to chuckle. Clearly her son thought adults were crazy to turn down such a delectable sweet.

  After they were again on their way, her son talked about the wonders of licorice. Then he prattled about one kid’s new knife and another’s slingshot. Next he told them he heard of a rabid dog two boys thought they had seen on the outskirts of town, the wild stallion someone captured and the man who claimed to have been tortured by Indians. Cole remained silent except to occasionally comment or answer one of Toby’s questions.

  Embroiled in her own thoughts, Lenora had little to say. Once she forced herself to put the town behind her, she began thinking about how much money she’d spent. As she recalculated the amount—several times—she realized that the five dollars Cole gave her could not have been hers.

  Then his?

  She must have been staring at him for several moments, because he threw her a glance. “Something bothering you, Mrs. Pritchard?”

  “Yes. That five dollars.”

  His eyebrows rose in innocence as he turned his attention to the road.

  “You said you found that money.”

  “Yep.” He grinned. “Found it in my pocket.”

  She gripped the seat’s rail. “So that was your money.”

  He took his time answering. “Actually, yours. I told you I’d pay you for feed. The night I arrived, remember?”

  “But you gave me too much.”

  “Not for shelter and meals, along with the care for my horses. It would’ve cost me more if I’d stayed in town.”

  “Still...” When she thought of the amount of work he’d done on the ranch, she owed him. Besides, the way he’d given her the money in the mercantile had saved her embarrassment. And kept her from exploding at Mr. Richards.

  And what about that matter of the licorice when he had refused to sell? Cole had not grown angry or confrontational. Just waited. His very presence demanded respect. Mr. Richards could not help but yield to the better person.

  Cole was like no man she had ever met before.

  Chapter Nine

  As they came up the hill, Cole sensed something was wrong long before he saw the house’s open door. Fluffy white wisps rested on the porch like heaps of fresh-fallen snow. Were they feathers? The breeze lifted and scattered them.

  In the buckboard, Blister began to growl, his yellow fur bristling.

  Cole tugged on the reins, stopping the pinto. “Toby, tie up your dog again.”

  “Yessir.” The boy’s fingers shook as he hurried to obey.

  Cole clucked at his horse to move on. Slowly.

  With widening eyes, Lenora’s fingers clutched his arm. “What...?” She never finished her sentence.

  They had barely reached the yard when she leaped down from the buckboard and ran toward the house.

  “Lenora, wait!”

  She didn’t heed his cry.

  “Hold them.” He tossed Toby the reins. “Don’t come in until I say so. And don’t untie Blister.”

  The dog yapped nonstop, the sound growing in intensity.

  When Cole caught up to Lenora on the porch, he grabbed her arm. “Wait. It may not be safe.”

  After thrusting her behind him, he flattened himself against the exterior wall. He drew his pistol. Raising his voice, he called, “Whoever’s in there, come out.”

  No answer.

  He could hear nothing but Lenora’s gulping breaths. When she tried to push past him, he grabbed her waist and pulled her back. “Let me check first. When it’s clear, I’ll let you know.” He wouldn’t let go of her until she nodded.

  The first thing he did was duck his head around the corner to do a quick peek. No one appeared to be inside. However, it looked like a cannonball had passed through the large room. He peered above at Toby’s loft. The small opening that served as a window to the interior was shut. Was someone up there? No telling.

  “This is your last chance to come out.” Cole cocked his gun, allowing the sound to reverberate in the room. Again, no answer. He entered, his boots crunching over broken china and pottery. A quick check of Lenora’s bedroom revealed no one hid there. With caution, Cole climbed into the loft. The space was empty. But it had been ransacked also.

  He put away his gun. “You can come in now, Lenora.”

  After one look at the room, she staggered back and gripped the door frame. For endless moments, she didn’t move.

  “Jeb.” She spoke in a hard tone. “He did this.”

  That had been Cole’s conclusion as well, but he asked, “Why do you suspect him?”

  “Because he...” Again, she looked around as though unable to comprehend what had happened.

  Cole followed her gaze. Pictures that had been on the mantel now lay on the floor. Some of her bone china had been smashed, the pieces littering the handwoven rugs. Every shelf had been cleared, the contents of a couple tin cans emptied. Pillows had been slashed, their downy feathers scattered. Very little appeared intact.

  “Lenora.” He waited until her eyes met his. “What was Hackett looking for?”

  A flash of emotion crossed her face so quickly, he nearly missed it. Fear? Guilt?

  Did she know where the missing money was?

  Cole’s boots crunched over the debris. “What was he hoping to find?” His voice came out harsher than he intended.

  Shock gave way to confusion as she ducked her head. “I don’t... I...” Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. All of a sudden, she shuddered. She appeared unable to hold herself upright one second longer.

  Was she crying? Her shoulders spasmed, but she made no sound.

  He stood immobile, feeling helpless. Stupid. Only one thing to do.

  With infinite care, he put his arms about her.

  He had no idea how she would respond. Jerk away? Slap him? Nothing prepared Cole for the way she suddenly melted against him. Fingers against her mouth, she pressed her forehead against his chest. She succumbed to sorrow, crying so hard that her body shook.

  Like a dam had broken. One that she had held in place for too long.

  A strange emotion welled inside him. Empathy? He resisted the foreign feeling. Discomfort grated his heart. In all the years he’d chased down outlaws, he had always avoided the loved ones and friends of those victimized. He didn’t want to see the depth of their suffering.

  After all, he had enough of his own to last a lifetime.

  If someone approached him, gushing their thanks because he had captured or killed an outlaw, he would usually mutter, “Just doing my job.” Risking rudeness, he would hurry away.

  But now, Lenora leaned against him, overcome by sorrow. Why didn’t her grief repel him? Of its own accord, his hand slowly smoothed across her back. His fingertips brushed the soft skin of her neck.

  This felt so right.

  He wanted to tell her only plates had been smashed, not lives. But perhaps the dishes were a symbol of her broken life. One that no human could repair. He allowed himself to feel her pain, but for some reason it didn’t hurt like he thought it would.

  His hold tightened. Cole finally found the words to comfort, not only her, but himself. “We’ll clean this up together. Put everything back in order. Then we’ll get on with our lives. We’ll not let the likes of Jeb Hackett destroy our peace of mind. Not now, not ever.”

  She nodded, ever so slightly.

  Without circumspection, he yanke
d his bandanna from around his neck and handed it to her. It was dirty and sweat-stained, but she didn’t seem to care as she dabbed her eyes. He continued to stroke her back.

  “God sees. And He knows.” Cole spoke softly, the words soothing the agony in his own soul. “You aren’t alone. I’m here. You can count on me. No matter what.”

  Her tears abated. Still she nestled in his embrace. If possible, she relaxed against him even more. Her cheek nuzzled his shirt. A deep sigh escaped her.

  “Ma! Cole?” Toby’s voice reached them from outside. “What’s going on?”

  Blister’s barking welled up in Cole’s hearing as reality charged back at him.

  After releasing Lenora, he stepped onto the porch. “Hitch Nips and come in here. But don’t untie Blister yet. Your ma needs you right quick.”

  The youngster did as he was told and soon bounded inside. His young face registered shock. When Lenora saw him, she again broke down.

  “It’ll be okay, Ma. It’ll be okay.” Toby hugged her.

  An outsider again, Cole merely watched. Clenching his fist, he resisted putting his arms around the two of them. This wasn’t his family. And it wasn’t his place to comfort. Not since Toby had come.

  Cole cleared his throat. “I’ll check the root cellar and barn to make sure no one’s hiding out there. I’ll be right back.”

  Lenora nodded, eyes red, cheeks blotched.

  “Come on, Ma. I’ll clean up.” Toby took her hand and led her toward a chair. “You set and tell me what to do.”

  Cole headed out to check the outbuildings, but as he suspected, they were empty. It appeared as though someone had ransacked the root cellar, turning over bins and breaking things as they’d hunted behind jars. Someone had also searched the barn. Cole congratulated himself on hiding some of his things and taking along the rest. Wouldn’t do for Hackett to find his badge.

  Not until Cole was certain the three of them were alone on the ranch did he release Blister. The dog had barked almost nonstop since their return.

  After Cole untied him from the buckboard, he ran around the yard, yelping and growling.

  Yeah, Blister knew several someones had run roughshod over the place. After watching the dog follow the hidden trails, Cole grew confident that he would find no one lurking.

  So what was Hackett looking for? It took no smarts to figure he was searching for the missing bankroll from the Cheyenne robbery. More than five months had passed, and not one dollar of the twenty-one thousand had appeared. That Cole knew of anyway.

  Unbeknownst to them, the robbers had stolen newly minted five-dollar bills, not yet circulated. Find those bills, and Cole would track down the thieves.

  Was Jeb Hackett convinced Lenora had the money?

  Cole reevaluated his assumption that the outlaw had been in possession of it all along. Perhaps Amos Pritchard was the one to safeguard the bankroll? Lenora had claimed that her husband was found dead, miles from this ranch, but had he hidden the loot here first?

  A chilling thought—one he fought to entertain—settled in his mind. One he couldn’t shake. Had he misjudged Lenora and she knew where the money was? Perhaps she wasn’t as innocent as she seemed. Why else would she refuse to answer his question about Hackett?

  Cole’s plans to eventually move to town changed. Besides, once the mercantile proprietor had discovered he was Lenora’s “hired help,” the man had made it clear he wasn’t welcome. No doubt that information would spread until no one would take his money. Including the hotel. No, it would be better if Cole remained on the ranch and did his own quiet search. Perhaps he would find what Jeb Hackett had missed.

  * * *

  Though Lenora kept her gaze fixed on the dish she carried to the table, she could still see the gaps on the mantel where her bone china used to be. The long slash in the quilt her aunt had made fluttered as she walked by. The crack in the glass of her tambour clock—a gift from her father—seemed to lengthen. How long before her heart stopped hurting?

  Likely never.

  Though she, Toby and Cole had cleared the debris, the room still showed signs of violation in the pockmarked plaster walls and dented tin cans. Had Jeb and his men thrown things across the room? Not only that, but they had stolen Amos’s six-shooter—one less gun to defend herself. She was glad they hadn’t found her shotgun in the barn.

  And good thing they hadn’t discovered the small built-in trapdoor, under the rug in her bedroom. There she kept extra ammunition and some money. Despite how close her husband and Jeb had been, Amos had kept secrets. Because he knew his so-called friend could one day turn on him?

  Lenora stepped to the door. “Toby.”

  Her son ran up from the barn with a promptness that soothed her heart.

  “Yes, Ma?” His green eyes met hers steadily.

  She ran her fingers through his dark hair and tilted back his head. “Could you tell Cole supper’s ready?”

  “He’s already a’coming.”

  “Very well, then.”

  “I’ll go wash up.” He bolted out the door.

  In no time, Cole and her son sat at the table. Normally they would have beans and bread, but this evening Lenora had one surprise—pudding, sitting in a covered dish. Now that Porky had calved, they had an abundance of milk. Soon Lenora would churn butter to put up. But where could she barter? Though the larger town of La Grange was farther away, likely their stores there would conduct business with her. Eli Hackett’s influence couldn’t have reached that far, could it?

  Aware of how quiet Cole and Toby were, she slid into her seat. Her son’s palm was extended, waiting for the blessing. Lenora caught her breath when Cole’s open hand slid toward her. Warmth suffused her as their gazes met. He slowly lowered his head, as though allowing her to make the decision about holding his hand during prayer.

  Slowly, she rested her fingers on his.

  What should she pray? For once, she struggled with the simple words. After licking her lips—for the third time—she began. “Dear Lord, we thank...we thank You...for...” Her throat grew so tight, she couldn’t continue. She was grateful—for so much—but fought an overwhelming urge to cry.

  Silly woman, she chided herself, they were just things.

  So why did the invasion of her house upset her so?

  As soon as she asked the question, she knew. After Amos had been laid to rest, she had assumed her troubles were buried too. That Jeb Hackett would leave her alone. How foolish to have assumed that.

  Lenora sniffed, unable to stifle the sound.

  Cole’s fingers gently squeezed. “Lord, we thank You for Your many blessings, like the food we eat and even the air we breathe. And God, though I’m not much of a praying man, I ask that You comfort Lenora.” His thumb caressed her knuckles. “Help her think on the many ways You watch over her every day. And that she is never out of Your hands. Amen.”

  “Amen.” She thought the word came through her lips, but she couldn’t be sure.

  Toby’s eyes widened when she lifted the dish’s lid. “Pudding?”

  She nodded.

  “Thanks, Ma!” Her son smacked his lips as she filled his bowl.

  “Been a long time since I had this.” Cole’s quiet voice contrasted with Toby’s exuberance.

  “I hope you enjoy it.” She managed a tremulous smile in his direction.

  “I know I will.” He made a sound of appreciation after his first bite. “You know, I’ve been thinking...” He waited until she met his gaze. “I’m going to sack out on the porch. Just for tonight.”

  Toby’s spoon paused midair. “How come?”

  “’Cause I don’t want to sleep in that big ol’ scary barn.” His voice quavered and eyes widened. “It’s so far away from the house.”

  Ducking her head, Lenora hid her smile at the mock fear o
n Cole’s face. Toby outright laughed. When he wasn’t looking, Cole winked at her.

  Truth be told, she would be glad to have him so close.

  Later as she prepared to retire, she grabbed one of Amos’s shirts to use in place of her destroyed pillow. Twice she checked to make certain the door was bolted and barred before going back to her room.

  As soon as she lay her head on the wadded material, she caught the scent of the hair oil her husband used to use. He only applied it when he went into town. Likely to gamble. Or go a’thieving. Had he used it the last day of his life?

  A painful memory invaded her thoughts.

  “Take it,” Amos rasped. He loosed the leather strap that bound the satchel to his saddle. In the dusk, his skin appeared ashen, a corner of his mouth crusted red with blood.

  One look told Lenora he was dying. The terrifying truth strangled what she wanted to say.

  “Lord knows I’ve wronged you all these years. I promised myself I’d make up for it if I could.” He coughed, the sound rattling through his body. “You and Toby clear out of here. You’ll have more than enough money to live off of.”

  The satchel dropped heavily to the ground. His startled horse tossed his head and began walking.

  “Amos.” The cry escaped her lips, but it was too late. Her husband fixed his eyes on his destiny as he slowly rode into the encroaching darkness.

  Clutching the shirt, Lenora sat up in bed. She wouldn’t touch that money. In the dead of night, she had buried it where no one would think to look.

  She jumped at the thumping footsteps on the porch. Was that Jeb? Terror gripped her.

  Then she heard Cole’s low whistle at his call, “Blister. Good boy.”

  Relief swept over her. Taking a deep breath, she relaxed and pulled the covers high. Cole was close. He would protect her.

  Though she didn’t hear him settle, she could imagine him laying out his bedroll. Peace settled over her as she closed her eyes.

  He cares for me.

  Not only did Cole prove it by staying close tonight—when he knew she would be afraid, but earlier when he had held her. Once again, she felt his strong arms about her as she’d cried. His gentle touch on the skin of her neck. His thumb caressing her knuckles while they’d prayed.