The Marshal's Mission

by Anna Zogg

  Lenora sighed.

  If she had her way, she’d keep Cole there forever.

  * * *

  Cold sweat poured off Cole’s forehead as he sat up with a gasp. His heart pounded against his chest and a sickening feeling strangled his throat. Several moments passed before he realized that he’d had a nightmare. One that had recurred on occasion since he was fourteen.

  Why now? Hackett’s vandalism of the ranch had been several days before, so that couldn’t be the reason. Upon Lenora’s insistence, Cole had returned to sleeping in the barn. What disturbed his sleep?

  “Andrew.” Cole blew out a breath as he tilted back his head. Been a long time since he’d dreamed of his brother’s death. The images and smells still haunted him.

  “You’ve got to forgive yourself, Cole.” His mother’s words came back to him. If only he had kept his younger brother from running into the street. The moment he had discovered Andrew following him, he should have turned around and escorted him home. His ma had warned them both about taking that shortcut down the alley. And Cole hadn’t listened.

  He flung aside his blanket. After he yanked on his boots, he slipped on his shirt and vest. Out of habit, he grabbed his rifle. From experience, he knew he’d never get back to sleep. Not for a couple hours, anyway.

  As he stalked toward the barn door, Coal the calf bawled. In the darkness, he heard Porky stagger to her feet. No doubt she lowered her horns, ready to protect her baby.

  “Easy, girls,” he said in a low voice. “Just gonna make the rounds.”

  Though he’d done that before he’d sacked out for the night, it wouldn’t hurt to do it again. A routine he’d lately acquired, especially when he thought he saw a light on a nearby hill. From a campfire? The first time that had happened, he convinced himself he’d imagined it. The second time, he began making the rounds before settling down for the night.

  Once burned, twice smart.

  Perhaps making two a night would be a good idea, now that he knew Hackett or his men were on the prowl. Obviously, they kept an eye on the ranch. How else did they know everyone had left so they could ransack the place? Cole would ensure they didn’t try something at night.

  A quarter moon hung in the clear sky. Countless stars beamed down, washing the landscape with a gentle glow. Nothing appeared on the nearby hill tonight.

  Sticking to the shadows, he listened to the night sounds. Undisturbed, a host of crickets chirped. In the distance, an owl hooted. No unusual sounds came from the chicken coop or the pigpen. Without moving, Cole merely watched the yard. On the porch, he could see Blister’s head up, ears pricked forward.

  He gave a short, sharp whistle. The dog immediately leaped up and loped his way.

  “Good boy.” Cole bent to pat his head. No doubt Hackett would be all the bolder if the dog were missing from the ranch. Was he the one who had lassoed Blister? Made sense now.

  Maybe it was time for the dog to have a companion. A puppy so he could train up the newcomer. Cole would have to keep his ears open next time they were in town.

  Staying in the shadows when he could, he prowled around the buildings. He paused by the back pasture when Sheba nickered and met him at the fence. “Heya, girl.” He smoothed his hand over her neck, chuckling when the two geldings crowded her to get attention too. “If any of you see anything, you’d be sure to tell me, right?”

  Rowdy tossed his head, almost in agreement. Watching the ears of all three horses, Cole decided they appeared calm. After a final pat to their necks, he moved on. He ended up on the porch steps, looking across the landscape.

  Though Amos Pritchard had been a thief, he certainly had picked a nice piece of property. Cole himself couldn’t have done a better job of positioning the ranch buildings. To the south wandered a friendly creek and to the north lay hills that would protect from the harsher winter winds. The buildings Amos had constructed were perfectly suited for the weather and his family.

  For the first time in a long while, Cole felt he could breathe. The wide-open spaces gave him a sense of freedom. That was never the case in town. Here, no outlaw lurked in every building, ready to take his life. Despite the fact that Jeb Hackett was likely in the vicinity, peace washed through Cole.

  It struck him that he felt right at home.

  A creaking floorboard warned him that he was not the only one awake. The door squeaked as it opened.

  Without turning on the step, he said in a low voice, “Why aren’t you asleep, Lenora?”

  “Oh, Cole.” Her tight whisper greeted him from the darkness. “I heard something and...” A sigh revealed her relief.

  “Just me, making the rounds.” He glanced over his shoulder.

  A large, fringed shawl draped across her shoulders and torso, covering her white nightgown to her knees. Bare toes peeped out from the hem.

  Her movement revealed that she was putting her rifle back beside the doorjamb.

  “Didn’t mean to disturb you,” he added.

  She tucked the shawl more securely around herself. “Why are you up?”

  “Couldn’t sleep.” His nightmare flashed through his mind. “So I’m making the rounds.”

  “Do you every night?”

  “Usually before I bed down. Tonight, though, I...” He let out a frustrated breath, unable to explain. Yet.

  Lenora didn’t press him for details.

  In the silence, the answer slowly came to him. He grew aware of his awakening emotions—they had been roused the moment he had stepped onto the ranch. Long before he had held Lenora Pritchard in his arms, he had begun to feel again. It both disturbed and beguiled him.

  Would he run away from them? Or stay and allow himself the agony and pleasure of...? His mind stumbled over the word love.

  No, care. That was it. He cared for Lenora like any decent human being should.

  Behind him, the soft rustle of material interrupted his thoughts.

  “Cole.”

  He turned to Lenora as she stood on a step above him.

  Soft brown hair framed her face. Her dark eyes glittered in the pale light. “You’ve done so much for us already. Please, go get some rest.”

  He sucked in a slow breath as she rested her hand on his shoulder. Warmth penetrated his shirt and spread from her fingers across his chest. He reveled in her gentle touch.

  If only...

  When he glanced at her fingers, she pulled away with a small gasp. Brow pinched, she crossed her arms. Because she had been unaware of her gesture?

  For endless moments, they stood silent. Cole fought the overwhelming yearning to take her into his arms again. Except this time, his embrace wouldn’t be to comfort. Would she allow it?

  I can’t do that to her.

  As soon as he put Jeb Hackett behind bars, he would move on to the next job. And the next.

  Cole backed down one step and another until he was on solid ground. With deliberate effort, he spoke. “Good night, Mrs. Pritchard.”

  “Good night.” Her words came out in a breathless rush.

  He waited until she ducked into the house and put the crossbar in place. Only then did he allow himself to breathe.

  Chapter Ten

  “Not great, but good enough.” Lenora surveyed the large room, satisfied with her wall patching. A week had passed since the break-in, and finally her home was again orderly.

  If only she could get rid of the nagging fear that kept her awake at night. Though Jeb hadn’t found anything—and she felt confident that he never would—his increasing boldness kept pace with her growing fright. The fact that he had invaded her home and ransacked her belongings proved that he had moved beyond the talking stage.

  How could she convince him she had nothing he wanted?

  She backed out of the room as though to distance herself
from her thoughts. Since the break-in, she had become more jittery. More anxious. Poor Toby felt the brunt of her ill temper. Likely it was because she wasn’t sleeping well. After she climbed into bed at night, she found it harder and harder to pray.

  When she stepped onto the porch, she watched Cole lead their horse into the corral, her son trotting alongside. The day was yet young, the sun warm and bright. A nice change from the last two days of gloom. It hadn’t rained much, so the ground was still fairly dry.

  Once they were inside the corral, he hiked her son onto the horse’s back. Without a saddle or bridle? It was Amos’s horse, one she didn’t care much for since he was sometimes unpredictable.

  While her oven heated, Lenora leaned against the porch rail to watch.

  “Now remember what I said.” Cole’s voice reached her. “Take it nice and easy. Get used to his gait.”

  “Okay, Cole.”

  He unhooked the halter and stepped back. “Let’s see whatcha got.”

  Nodding, Toby gave the horse a tentative kick. Nothing happened. Shrugging, he looked at Cole.

  “First, you have to get seated properly.” He helped Toby scoot forward a little. “There.”

  Again, her son nudged the gelding, who moved forward in a slow walk.

  “That’s it.” Cole backed toward the split-rail fence. “Get a feel for his gait. Let him know who’s boss.”

  Needing to check the oven’s temperature, Lenora went back into the house. After placing her hand inside the space, she added more wood and adjusted the flues to make it hotter for bread baking.

  By the time she returned to the porch, her son was bouncing on the back of the gelding, looking none too secure.

  Tension coiled in her as she watched. When Toby had been a mere toddler, Jeb had placed their son on the back of a horse. Though she had begged her husband to intervene, he had only laughed, saying it was never too early for their son to learn to be a cowboy.

  As the horse trotted around the perimeter of the fence, Cole called out directions. “Make sure you have a tight grip of his mane. Push him into a canter. Don’t let him be lazy.”

  Toby kicked the gelding’s sides, but for some reason the horse shied. The next moment, Lenora screamed as her son plunged face first to the ground.

  By the time she raced across the yard, Cole had lifted her son into a sitting position. In vain, her ten-year-old stifled his whimpers.

  “What’s the matter with you?” she shrieked at Cole. “Are you trying to kill him?” She helped Toby stand.

  Covered with dust, her son wobbled. With his hand pressed to his forehead and tears streaking his dirty face, he seemed to have trouble breathing.

  “Let me see.” She pried his hand away where a large goose egg was forming. “Are you hurt anywhere else? Any broken bones?” She fought panic as she knelt in the dirt, assessing his body.

  “No.” Toby fought to sound brave.

  If her son had been seriously injured...

  She bolted to her feet and faced Cole. “What made you do such a crazy thing? How could you be so...?” She bit off the scathing things she was tempted to say. Grabbing Toby’s arm, she marched him toward the house while he continued to sniffle. She pretended she didn’t see him glance over his shoulder.

  Once they got inside, she pumped water onto a cloth and made him hold it to his head. “That should take care of some of the swelling. Does anything else hurt?”

  “No, Ma.” Toby sat on a chair, head tilted back as he did what she bade.

  “How could a man do such a fool thing?” She continued to mutter under her breath as she grabbed another cloth and brushed the dust from his skin. “Life is dangerous enough without...”

  Without robbing banks? Or getting shot? All her fears welled up inside her.

  I hate this place. I can’t wait to leave.

  Then why was she still there? Never in twelve years had she felt like the ranch was her home.

  She bit her lip to stop the words, taking a deep breath to calm herself. For the sake of her son if nothing else.

  After peeling the cloth from his forehead, Toby peered at her. “It was my fault, Ma. I asked Cole to show me how to ride without a bridle and saddle.”

  “Well, you’re both fool-headed then.”

  Her son’s mouth compressed. “It’s not true. If I want to help round up our cattle, I gotta know how to ride better so’s I won’t fall off and get trampled. Pa never showed me.”

  Lenora sucked in a quick breath. Never before had Toby contradicted her.

  He’s growing up.

  For several moments, she chewed the inside of her lip. But he was right. Amos had never given their son the skills to be a good rancher. Her son loved this place. How could she even think of taking him away?

  “Let me cool that cloth.” As she again pressed it to Toby’s forehead, what he’d said nagged her.

  She reasoned she was still upset over the vandalism. Her emotions were stoked to an impossible level. Only that morning, she had shrieked when a fat toad had jumped from under the chicken coop while she was collecting eggs.

  What she’d said to Cole began to nag her. Her words were unkind. Unjust. And the way she had screamed at him...

  “Stay here,” she directed Toby. Before she chickened out, she strode from the room.

  On the porch, she nearly ran into Cole as he carried the milk pail up from the barn.

  “Oh, I...” She gulped.

  He set the pail down. “How’s Toby?”

  “Fine. Fine.” She pressed her lips together.

  “No sprains?”

  “No.” She cleared her throat. Just say it. “About what I said earlier...”

  “You were right. I could’ve at least—”

  “No, I shouldn’t have flown off the handle.” She didn’t add that her nerves were frazzled. That was no excuse.

  “I should have asked permission first.” He stepped closer until he was within a foot of her and spoke in a low voice. “You know I’d never do anything to hurt your son, Lenora. I care for that boy.”

  Eyes stinging, she nodded. “I had no call to speak to you like that.”

  Cole pursed his lips, but said nothing.

  “Seems like I do that a lot with you. Apologize.” She gazed up at him.

  “I hear it’s good for the soul.” His twinkling eyes and dimpled cheek let her know he bore no hard feelings.

  She managed a tremulous grin. “Guess my soul needs a lot of it.”

  “I’d say.” Smiling down at her, his gaze flickered to her lips. She realized with a start that she had leaned toward him. Stepping back, she smoothed her hair.

  He lifted the bucket of milk.

  “Oh, I forgot about that. Let me—”

  “I got it.” He brushed by her and set it on the table. “Toby, how’s your head?”

  “Okay, I guess.” His gaze flickered to Lenora. “Can I try again, Ma? Please?”

  She caught her breath, tempted to tell him no.

  However, Cole intervened. “I’ve been thinking that we picked the wrong horse for your first attempt.” He turned to Lenora. “With your permission, I’d like him to ride my mare, Sheba. She won’t spook like your horse.”

  She met her son’s gaze. “Are you ready to try again?”

  “Yes’m.”

  “Okay, then.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Please take care.”

  Toby leaped off his chair and flung aside the wet cloth. “Can we go now, Cole?”

  “If that’s all right with your ma.”

  She merely nodded.

  The two were soon out the door. Though tempted to watch, she decided to stay inside and concentrate on baking. It gave her time to confront her emotions.

  Fear had run her li
fe from the moment she had found out Amos was a thief. She recalled flying off the handle many times when he did something reckless. But all her nagging had not changed him one speck.

  Lenora slipped the bread into the oven, then leaned against the wall as thoughts barraged her.

  I wish I’d prayed for him more often. And less against him.

  The regret hummed in her soul. Though she had finally reached a place where she knew she wasn’t responsible for her husband’s actions, she realized she could have done more for their marriage. And for her own peace of mind.

  She dabbed her damp eyes with her apron.

  And now that her son was growing up, she had to learn to bridle her tongue. Above all, she didn’t want him to resent her trying to protect him from every possible risk.

  A little later, when she heard Toby’s laugh, she peeked out the door. He sat astride Cole’s beautiful mare as she cantered around the corral’s perimeter. As before, her son used no saddle or bridle. His legs gripped the mare’s sides while his fingers clutched her dark, flowing mane.

  Lenora’s breath caught at the horse’s fluid motion. Sheba’s feet hit the ground in a magnificent waltz as she floated in the air. Her blood bay coat shimmered in the bright sunshine, mane and tail flying.

  The most enthralling picture, though, was Toby. His face shone with joy.

  “Look at me,” he called to a grinning Cole. “I did it.” He laughed again.

  Pressing one hand to her neck, Lenora could not catch her breath. As tears wet her cheeks, she wiped them away. When was the last time she’d heard her son laugh like that? It had been years.

  She clutched the porch’s column. While she listened to Cole calling out encouragement, her chest spasmed. She felt she had eaten something too quickly and the food had trouble going down. Yet, the sensation caused more relief than pain. Her lungs expanded, giving her space to breathe. She felt free.

  And all because of this man named Cole.

  * * *

  “We won’t go far. We’re just going to look over the lay of the land.” Cole hoped he sounded convincing as he spoke to Lenora the next morning. Though they hadn’t yet eaten breakfast, he wanted to get an early start. She surprised him when she agreed to let Toby go.