by Anna Zogg
He leaned forward to see her retching over the railing of the porch.
* * *
Still queasy, Lenora tried to stifle her groan as Cole and Toby ate. Food appealed to her not one bit.
“So you gonna tell me why you were hiding in the root cellar?” With apparent relish, Cole stuffed a bite of pie into his mouth. He smacked his lips and made a face. Because the berries were tart?
Sipping her weak tea, she averted her gaze from the gash on his cheek. The black thread, holding skin together, stuck up like a flag. And reminding her again that she’d sewn Cole’s face like fabric.
“On account of Mr. Hopper coming to visit,” Toby answered for her. He also seemed to have no lack of appetite.
Of course, her son probably loved the fact that they were having pie and bread for dinner. That was all Lenora could scrounge up without feeling sick. The tea, steeped from dried mint, settled her stomach so she could at least look at Cole without vomiting.
I’m such a weak-kneed baby.
“What did Hopper have to say?” Cole looked between them.
Lenora quickly filled him in, as well as her decision to go to Cheyenne. “I was all set to leave, but I got to thinking. What if Jeb was on the road somewhere?”
Cole’s jaw tightened. “Hopper is one of his men?”
“No.” She shook her head. Had Jeb gone over to Frank’s house and had another little “talk” with him? “I just wondered if maybe Frank overheard a rumor that made him think that the Hacketts were about to take my ranch. Something Jeb wanted him to hear.”
His eyebrows rose. “Good thinking.”
“Then I got scared.” She traced her finger along the china cup’s delicate handle. “Since you weren’t back, I worried that maybe I wasn’t safe on the road or at the ranch. So that’s when we hid.”
“You did well.” He took another bite of pie and seemed deep in thought as he chewed it. “Likely Hackett used your neighbor, just as you suspected. I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“So I did right staying here?”
He nodded. “But I’d suggest the next time you get scared, lock yourself in the house.”
“But it’s the first place he’d look.”
“True. But you’d have a much more defensible position in here. The door to the root cellar is pretty rickety.”
“But I’d shoot a few of them before they got to me.”
His expression grew grim. “Their first couple shots into the cellar would kill you and Toby.”
She closed her eyes, terrified of that possibility.
When his hand briefly touched hers, she met his gaze. “All right. If danger comes a’knocking, I’ll barricade myself with Toby in here.”
“Good.”
She glanced at her son, who stared at them with round eyes. “I guess Amos always expected trouble.”
“What do you mean?” Cole scooped the rest of the pie into his mouth.
Lenora pointed. “He built shutters for the windows—but they go on the inside. I never understood why he’d made them that way.”
“You have some in the bedroom for your window?”
“Yes.”
“And ones for in here?”
She stepped toward the wood bin and rested her hand on the four single panels that stood against the wall. “These go in here.”
“Then I rest my case.”
“Is Hackett going to come here and start a gunfight?” Toby’s mouth quivered.
“Unlikely.” Lenora hastened to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Cole and I were talking ‘what if.’ I learned my lesson about the root cellar.”
Her son didn’t seem convinced, a worried pinch forming between his brows. Staring at Cole, she pleaded in silence for him to say something.
He cleared his throat. “I think your pa was pretty smart when he made this house. You know, I always wondered about it and finally decided that it’s just like Noah’s ark.”
“What?” Toby swiveled in his chair.
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Cole flashed a grin. “Shutters for the windows? And the house built so high off the ground? Your pa was expecting floodwater.”
Her son made a face, but was clearly distracted from the discussion about Hackett. “The stream sometimes gets high in the spring, but it never comes near the house.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Cole held up a finger. “Don’t forget that trapdoor on the roof. You thought it was for fires. But I get the feeling your pa told you that so you wouldn’t worry.”
When Toby scratched the top of his head with a closed fist, Lenora pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.
“Think about it.” Cole leaned forward in his chair and lowered his voice like he was sharing a secret. “He didn’t tell anybody else about it, right? Because he knew that at the first sign of rising water, everyone would stampede over here. After this whole area got flooded, your house would float just fine. And that trapdoor? Obviously that’s what you’d use to spot dry land.” Nodding to affirm his explanation, he sat back with a serious expression.
Pressing her fingers over her lips, Lenora waited for her son’s response.
Toby suddenly made a sound of derision as he sat back on his chair. “That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard. I mean, we don’t even have a dove like Noah.”
Lenora couldn’t help but giggle.
Glaring at them both, her son reiterated. “Well, we don’t.”
She chuckled until her sides ached. Cole, too, laughed, wiping his eyes after several minutes—taking care around his sore cheek. Only her son seemed to have no idea what was so funny. Crossing his arms, he glowered at them both.
When she finally quieted, Toby said with no small indignation, “The house wouldn’t float because the floor would leak.”
She and Cole lost themselves in laughter all over again.
Chapter Sixteen
Cole stretched his chin upward as he watched himself in the small mirror. With care, he shaved around the gash on his cheek. Though Lenora’s salve had worked wonders—along with the one stitch—the area felt extra tender. And he didn’t want to accidently reopen the wound.
With the early-morning light, he stood at the side of the house while he took care of his morning ablutions, stripped down to pants, boots and his undershirt. A basin of water on the stand sufficed to rinse his razor. Inside, he heard Lenora move around, stoking the fire in the stove and preparing to do her cooking. Two days had passed since his little scouting expedition, and they’d heard and seen no one.
No doubt Jeb Hackett was out there, plotting his next move.
He wanted Lenora off the ranch—so he could waylay her on the open road? Possibly. Cole doubted he would ransack the house again. Whatever he was looking for wasn’t there. That was proved when Cole himself had found nothing.
That left only one possibility—Hackett was trying to get his hands on her. And her marriage to Cole apparently hadn’t deterred the outlaw in the least.
Did she know where the bank robbery money was? Cole cleaned his razor, debating about asking her. But would she tell him the truth?
She would want to know why—and he’d end up telling her who he was and why he was there.
Her likely reaction had kept his mouth shut.
She would accuse him of marrying her just so he could solve the bank robbery mystery. Not because he was interested in the ranch or horses or even building a life for himself.
He dabbed his face with the towel, then clenched it between his hands. In truth, why had he married her? And now that she was his wife, was he ready to do anything to keep her?
No matter what, he needed to tell her the truth—the real reason he’d come to Wyoming Territory. And how over time, things had changed, specifically b
ecause of her. If she was willing to accept him as a US marshal, then perhaps they had a future together.
Once planted, the idea began to grow on him.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Lenora’s voice startled him from his musing.
She stood at the corner of the house, face turned away. Because he was in his undershirt? Her cheeks were suspiciously rosy in the morning light.
“Good morning.”
“I, uh...” She cleared her throat and threw a quick glance at him. “I mended your shirt. And washed it. But I’m afraid it’s in pretty bad shape.” With the clothing in her hand, she stuck out an arm in his direction without looking at him.
Finding her modesty charming, he grinned. “Appreciate it.” After hanging the towel on a nail, he slipped on his newly mended shirt and buttoned it.
She was right. The bloodstains likely would never come out though she’d done a fine job sewing the tears.
After she glanced his way again, she moved closer.
Cole made a show of examining the stitches on his sleeve. “Huh. You do fine work.”
“Thank you.” Clearly pleased, she smiled.
“I should’ve insisted on three stitches instead of one.” He touched his cheek. “Less scarring.”
She blanched. It took her but a moment to recover. Grabbing the nearest thing, which happened to be the towel, she flung it at Cole.
The material hit him square in the chest before fluttering to the ground.
He let out a bark of surprise. “Good thing you didn’t have a shovel or rake handy.”
They both bent for the towel, but he beat her to it and snatched it off the grass. Holding up his hands, he backed away. “Whoa, now. I was only kidding.”
Cheeks flushed and hair a little askew, she fought to catch her breath. “How terrible to tease me about that.”
“Couldn’t help it. You’re irresistible.” He stepped closer to rehang the towel on the nail.
Instead of moving aside like he expected, she stood her ground. Cole pulled up short, a mere foot from her. Suddenly realizing what he said, he amended, “I meant that the situation was...”
Words dying in his throat, he looked down at her.
She is so lovely.
Not just externally. He’d never forget the fierce look on her face when he’d opened the root cellar door—protecting her son. Or the way her chin had trembled as she’d fought to be brave while stitching him up.
Or the way she read the Bible to Toby every night. They weren’t just words to her. She believed. And when she prayed, something always seemed to squeeze in his chest at her simple but trusting requests.
For the first time in Cole’s life, he longed to share in the faith she so effortlessly exhibited. Again, he was struck by the circumstances that had brought him to the ranch. What if God had directed Cole there? The truth humbled him.
The sun burst around the corner of the house. In the golden light, she glowed while her soft smile captivated him anew.
Lovely.
“Lenora...” He breathed her name like a prayer as he moved closer to her still. Would she pull away?
Eyes widening, her mouth parted as she raised her chin. Inviting.
Anticipating her sweet lips, he bent his head. Just another couple inches and...
“Ma? Cole?” Toby’s shout shattered the moment.
Lenora jerked away, palms pressing her face as she turned aside. Because she was shocked she’d forgotten herself? And they’d almost kissed?
“Back here.” Cole grabbed the basin and dumped the water as Toby careened around the corner.
“Can I go fishing?” He glanced between them. “I never got to the other day.”
Head ducked and shoulders hunched, Lenora didn’t answer.
“’S’okay with me,” Cole volunteered. “But better check with your mother.”
“Ma?”
“Maybe after breakfast.” She slowly turned, smoothing her hair into place.
“Aww.” Toby kicked at a clod of grass.
Cole measured the distance between himself and the woman he’d nearly kissed. Too far. It seemed obvious their tender moment had passed. He sighed, more disappointed than he expected.
“Didja ask him yet?” Toby’s question aimed at his mother.
Lenora blushed, her gaze cutting toward Cole then back at her son. “No.”
“Ask me what?” He strapped his gun belt around his waist and adjusted it.
Apparently distracted by his actions, she didn’t speak.
Toby answered for her. “If you’d teach my ma how to ride good like me.”
Cole straightened. “Horse riding lessons?”
“Why not?” She lifted her chin.
He pulled on his ear. “But you already know how to ride, right?”
“Of course.” She caught her upper lip in her teeth as she glanced away. “Just not very well.”
Toby’s eyes glittered with excitement. “You gonna teach her to ride bareback like me?”
“Well, I...” He squinted Lenora’s direction.
Her shoulders squared as she apparently anticipated his objection. “I plan to wear pants.”
“G-good.” Cole passed a hand over his clean-shaven face to keep from saying more.
“Is that a problem?” Folding her arms, she stepped closer.
“No, no.” He shook his head and added another for good measure. “No.”
“All right then.” She stuck out her chin as though the matter was settled. “We’ll begin after breakfast.”
She marched away.
“Fearsome.” Toby’s fist shot into the air. “I can’t wait to watch.”
He hurried after his mother, yelling, “Cole’s a great teacher, Ma. You’ll see.”
He laced his fingers on top of his head and rubbed his hair with vigor. Teaching Toby to ride was one thing, but Lenora? Cole gulped at the thought of being so close to her.
During breakfast he would have to figure out a way to gracefully bow out of riding lessons.
* * *
As Lenora poured more coffee into Cole’s cup, she studied his pensive expression. All during breakfast, he’d barely spoken. Of course, she had little to say as well. Especially as her thoughts kept returning to what had happened earlier.
Had he really been about to kiss her? They’d been talking and the next thing, the sun peeped around the house and blinded her. Then he was standing so close that she couldn’t get by him and...
That wasn’t exactly true. When he’d teased her and spoken to her with a strange, soft smile on his lips, her heart had nearly stopped beating. Then he had drawn closer and...
Lenora gulped. Now was not the time to dwell on that. She had more important things to think about—like bowing gracefully out of riding lessons. But nothing came to mind. How had she been snared into agreeing to this? After noticing how much Toby’s riding had improved, Lenora had dropped a casual comment, which he took to mean she wanted to learn.
What a time for him to bring that up again.
All too soon breakfast ended, and the three of them headed to the corral. Still she hadn’t come up with a good reason to delay lessons. Indefinitely, if possible.
Toby perched on the fence while she stood by the gate, hands clenching and unclenching.
When Cole led his pinto from the back pasture, she frowned. “Not Sheba?”
“I trust Nips a little more. And he’ll watch me instead of trying to show off.” Again he surprised her by bridling the gelding.
“I thought...” Biting her lip, she told herself to be patient. He was the teacher, and she was the student.
Cole apparently didn’t hear, brow drawn as he adjusted the cheek straps. After he draped the reins over the horse’s neck,
he threw a glance over his shoulder. “You riding or not?”
Hurrying to his side, she stared at his laced fingers as he waited to boost her to the pinto’s back.
“Oh, I...” She had assumed she would use the fence to mount the horse. Nothing was going as she expected.
With difficulty, she placed her foot in his hands because he hadn’t bent over far enough. She ended up losing her balance and grabbing his neck. Together, they nearly toppled to the ground. After a couple tries, she finally got on Nips. She fanned herself with one hand and glanced at the sun. The day seemed overly warm already.
“You’re too far back.” Cole swatted the air as he grabbed the bridle. “Scoot up. Forward some.”
She did so, but ended up kicking Nips in the sides. The gelding jumped, nearly ramming Cole while Lenora grabbed for a handhold.
“Whoa.” He tightened his grip and placed a palm on the horse’s flank to calm him.
“Sorry.” When he didn’t look at her, she repeated, “Sorry, Cole.”
He pushed back his hat and peered up at her. “I’m gonna hang the reins over his withers, but don’t hold them. Use your—” he paused a second “—legs to guide him.”
After that, he stepped back.
How to do that? She’d received only the most rudimentary instructions about riding when she was a child. Most of the time, she drove a buggy or buckboard. Her father had taught her that much at least.
Lenora gave a tentative kick. Again, the pinto seemed to overreact, causing her to grab wildly for whatever was within reach—his mane and the reins. After a moment, he slowed to a walk.
As far as guiding him...
Hanging on for dear life, she let him go where he wanted.
She was aware of Toby yelling encouragement and of Cole’s near-scowl, but she concentrated so hard on staying atop the horse that she thought of little else. The other thing she grew aware of was how high up she was. Nips was big, to be sure, but she hadn’t realized how tall.
Eventually, he settled into a sleepy walk around the perimeter of the corral. Lenora suspected it had something to do with the hand signals Cole gave him. His ears pricked forward, but he always seemed to be watching his master. And ignoring her when possible.