WOMEN OF SURPRISE 01: A Surprise For Abigail

by Tracey J. Lyons

  Abigail would never be laughed at again, least wise not while doing her job. So engrossed was she, that Abigail hadn't realize Mr. Stanton was talking to her until she heard him call her name.

  "Sheriff! You're not listening to a word I've been saying."

  With his hands planted firmly on his hips and his legs spread apart, Cole glared at her. "This is im portant. I don't want you shooting anybody's head off. That includes mine! So listen up, lady!"

  "There's no need to speak to me in that tone of voice, Mr. Stanton." The man was infuriating. Abigail wondered how it was that a few minutes ago she'd felt some sort of an attraction to him. Now she just wanted these lessons to be over with.

  "Look, shooting can be dangerous business."

  As if she didn't already know that. Abigail was dying to show him a thing or two about shooting. Her Uncle Chester Sinclair had taught her at an early age how to handle a variety of weapons. There were many summers where she'd left more than one mark in the trees out in the backyard of Aunt Margaret's house.

  Mr. Stanton came towards her holding a small box of bullets. "I'm going to tell you how to load your weapon." Nodding at the gun, he opened the box and counted six bullets into his hand.

  "Take these, roll the chamber open and place one in each hole."

  A shudder of excitement raced along her spine, she found herself enjoying the deception. Reaching out she took the bullets and did as he instructed, feigning interest. He then explained in great detail the workings of the gun and before she knew what was happening he'd turned her around so she was facing the tin cans.

  "I think you're standing too close to me, Mr. Stanton." She imagined she could feel the brush of denim and heat of his legs against the back of hers.

  "Sorry about that, Sheriff."

  Sucking in a deep breath, Abigail waited for him to move away. He seemed to settle in even closer to her. His chest was pressed against her back and he brought his arms around either side of her. Taking both of her hands in his, he raised their arms until the gun was level with her shoulders.

  Oh, dear, perhaps she'd let this little charade go too far.

  The sun had risen to above the tree line. But Abigail was sure the heat she was feeling wasn't coming from the sun's rays. Hard muscled arms were encircling her body and she was too afraid to move away from them.

  "Now, look through the sight, just like I explained." The sound of his voice, so close to her ear, sent goosebumps rolling along the skin on her arms.

  The index finger on his right hand moved to cover hers and before she knew what was happening the trigger twitched and the gun went off. The action sent her back against the hard wall of his chest. Abigail gasped in surprise, unprepared for the kick. It was all Mr. Stanton's fault for distracting her.

  "Did I hit anything?" she asked, hoping for the best, knowing that her aim had been way off.

  "No. The shot went wide."

  "Maybe, it would be better if I tried it by myself."

  Stepping away from her, he said, "Suit yourself."

  With the butt of the gun balanced in her hand, Abigail practiced taking aim at the tin can closet to her. Smiling from the sheer delight of just holding this weapon, she squinted down the short barrel of the Colt. With the can firmly in her sights, she squeezed the trigger. The gun went off leaving a puff of smoke in its wake. This time she was ready for the kick and managed to stay standing with her legs braced slightly apart.

  Frowning, she looked at the small branch of the oak tree as it fluttered to the ground, muttering, "I'm out of practice." Speaking for his benefit, she said, "Darn! I thought my aim was better."

  "You pulled your arms up when the trigger went off. Concentrate on holding steady."

  Cocking the gun, she only pretended to be listening to his advice, determined this time to knock the can clean off the rail. Repeating the process, Abigail smiled in satisfaction when the bullet hit its mark, knocking the first tin can clean off the fence.

  She let out a "Whoop!" and spun around to look at Mr. Stanton.

  "Lucky shot." He grinned at her. "Try it again. But watch where you point that thing!"

  Lucky shot, indeed! Thanks to Uncle Chester's persistence, all those hours of practice paid off. However, anxious to show up Mr. Stanton, she let him have it with both barrels, so to speak, knocking off not only the next can in line, but the last two hit the ground with a satisfying thud too.

  "Well, I'll be ..." he rubbed a hand along his bearded chin. Maybe it was only chance that she'd hit all three cans, but Cole wanted to be sure.

  With only two bullets remaining in the chamber, he told her to reload and went to set up some more cans. Standing by her side once again, he looked down to check her stance. It was when he was checking her form and hand position on the gun that he caught it.

  Looking into those bluegreen eyes, it struck him; Abigail Monroe was seeing only the targets. In her eyes he saw determination the likes of which he'd never seen before. So focused was she on those cans, that she didn't notice the small crowd that had begun gathering at the edge of the lot.

  He hoped that she was as good a shot with an audience as she had been a few minutes before when it was just him looking on. "Go ahead, Sheriff, knock 'em down."

  Stepping aside, Cole folded his arms across his chest and waited. Her first big test of courage and strength as a lawman or rather law-woman was here and Cole doubted that the lady was even aware of the moment. If she managed to hit all or even most of those cans, her reputation as peacemaker would be set, least wise in Surprise. On the other hand if she missed all those targets, she'd end up being ostracized and would earn little respect from the townsfolk.

  He didn't realize until she started firing that he was praying for the former to happen. Amidst the dust and the sounds of metal hitting tin, it was hard to tell what was happening. As the dust settled and the crowd held its collective breath, Cole took a step towards the sheriff.

  "Wow." His breath whooshed out of him when he saw all but three of the cans lying on the ground. Two of the three left standing had been nicked. Without thinking he strode to the sheriff and picked her up, swung her around, all the while whooping and yelling !

  "You did it, honey girl!"

  Behind them the crowd cheered. Abigail's eyes widened when she realized she'd had an audience. "Put me down, Mr. Stanton, please."

  Cole set her on her feet, but didn't let her go. Reaching out his hand, he touched the side of her face, and after tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear, he smiled at her. "Well done, Sheriff."

  Her face was flushed and he could well imagine that her pulse was racing with excitement. Abigail stood there looking up at him, and reflected in the sheriff's eyes he saw her pride and suddenly realized that he shared the feeling.

  Reining in his emotions, he stepped aside, letting the townsfolk congratulate their sheriff. Abigail was shaking hands with Mr. Jules when Cole turned away from the scene. He'd done his job and served his time, now it was time for him to move on.

  His escape was intercepted by John Wagner.

  "I say, Mr. Stanton, are you leaving Surprise so soon."

  "Mr. Wagner, my time here is done. I've gotten myself drunk and arrested. Had a nice Sunday dinner at Miss Margaret's and taught your sheriff to shoot a weapon." Looking back over his shoulder at Abigail, he added as an afterthought, "Though she didn't need much coaching from me. It's more than time that I move along."

  Leaning in close to him John, said, "She didn't need any coaching from you."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" It may have been long in coming but the realization hit him like a brick; he'd been duped. Rather than being angry, though, he found himself smiling.

  "So, I take it this means that your Sheriff Abigail was already a crack shot?"

  Grinning, John nodded. "Yup, has been since she was about ten years old."

  Glancing to where she stood with the townspeople, Cole mumbled, "Well, I'll be ..."

  And that cinched
it for him. Cole couldn't stay a minute longer in this town. For the first time in a very long while he was starting to care about people. The painful memory of losing his family loomed and Cole felt as if he didn't have the strength to open his life or heart to anyone again. Thoughts of regret about leaving Surprise didn't even half begin to cover what he was feeling.

  He'd love to have seen what Sheriff Abigail was truly made of and maybe he would have taken more than a little delight at pestering her some more.

  It was time to go. He didn't want or need any emotional attachments.

  Abigail leaned against the side of the building, watching as Cole Stanton waited on the platform of the train depot. The weight of the .45 and brand new leather holster hung snugly about her hips. She'd found the holster on her desk when she'd gone back to the sheriff's office. There'd been no name or note attached to the gesture, though she suspected it was Cole Stanton who'd left it.

  Off in the distance, the shrill sound of the whistle of the noon Lowland Express bounced off the craggy hillside of the Catskill Mountains, echoing along the valley.

  Soon, he would leave.

  Instead of feeling the relief that she'd expected at his departure, Abigail was surprised to find herself a little disappointed. She should be thinking, good riddance. Bolstering herself against the side of the building, Abigail waited for the train to arrive, her thoughts wandering over the events of the morning.

  All in all, it had been a great morning. Silently she thanked her uncle for all those shooting lessons. Of course she'd no way of knowing, until today, that she'd had it in her to shoot like a man. A smug smile of satisfaction settled around her mouth-she was a better shot than most men she knew.

  That may not be saying much, considering she only knew a few men including John Wagner and Edwin, but she'd stunned Cole Stanton with her sure shots and that was something.

  All morning she'd tried to forget how his arms had felt around her. The memory of the way his hand had covered hers, when he was showing her how to hold the gun, was enough to send shivers along her spine. Edwin Quinn had never made her feel that way.

  The only thing he'd made her feel was inadequate. If he could see her now, Abigail wondered what he would think. She had to be crazy standing here worrying over what Edwin thought of her. The man had broken her heart.

  As for Cole Stanton, she shouldn't be feeling anything for him. Not one person in this town knew anything at all about the drifter. He could be a murdering thief. The thought was enough to remind her that it was time for the man to be moving on.

  The train whistle sounded again. Abigail looked up to see the puff of steam coming from the engine as the train made its way into Surprise. Amidst the hissing of steam and the screeching of the brakes, the train engine ground to a stop in front of the outhouse-sized station.

  Passengers began to disembark from the train. Quickly, she scanned the platform searching for Mr. Stanton. He was nowhere in sight, so Abigail assumed that he was safely on board the train.

  Relieved that he was finally gone, she turned and went back to the Sheriff's office. An updated delivery of Wanted posters had arrived and she wanted to take a look at them. Through the rays of the shifting morning sunlight, dust motes floated down onto the desk top, landing on the stack of papers that Abigail had been studying. Taking a much needed break, she rubbed her eyelids with her fingertips. Then looking down, she flipped the next sheaf of paper over, and her heart jumped to her throat.

  Cole knew that the Sheriff was watching him. His mouth twitched beneath his beard. She sure as heck had him fooled into thinking that she knew nothing about guns. The sheriff had more gumption than he'd thought possible.

  The Lowland Express pulled to a stop amidst a cloud of rolling steam from the engine and the sound of squealing brakes. He had to wait for several minutes while the passengers disembarked, surprised at the number of people getting off the train. For a small, secluded town, Surprise sure did get its share of visitors.

  "Why if it isn't Cole Stanton, as I live and breathe!"

  He spun around to find the source of the feminine voice and found himself almost on top of a voluptuous redheaded woman. "Miss McCurdy. It is still Miss, isn't it?" Cole tipped his head to one side, studying the familiar face before him.

  "Of course I'm still single, Cole. You know I'm saving myself for you." Playfully, she slapped his arm with her white gloved hand. Brushing her ample bosom against his chest, she added, "I'm so happy to have stumbled upon you. I was afraid that this would turn out to be just another dead-end town. But if you're here, I daresay, there must be something exciting happening!"

  Cole looked at her, noticing the fine wrinkles around her brown eyes. The heavy coal that she'd used to outline her eyes only accentuated the lines. Her cheeks were dotted with red rouge; her full lips were painted yet another shade of red.

  "How'd you find this place, Wanda?" Cole asked, dropping the pretense of formality.

  Batting her lashes at him, she moistened her lips with a slow seductive sweep of her tongue. "I didn't follow you, if that's what you're thinking. I came because of an advertisement in this newspaper."

  Reaching into one of her traveling bags, Wanda pulled out a sheaf of yellowed newspaper. "See right here on page three." She stabbed at the paper with her finger.

  Cole took the paper out of her hand and skimmed the advertisement. Sure enough there was mention of the town of Surprise. Words like burgeoning and exciting were used to describe the place. Along with phrases like; make your dreams come true and settle in a place where crime is non-existent.

  Anger pulled at him. Whoever had dreamed up this advertisement was all but inviting criminals to put down roots in this town. The sheriff, even if she was a sure shot, would be no match for the hooligans that were sure to flock here once word got out. He shoved the paper back at Wanda, eyeing her coolly.

  "So you're thinking about settling here?"

  "Now, that all depends, on whether or not you'll be sticking around." She batted her lashes at him.

  He wouldn't be staying here. He would continue on to the next town. Maybe set up another contracting business. Building, working with his hands, an honest day's work-one that left him feeling satisfied. That's what he needed to do.

  After all, the sheriff had made herself pretty clear on her wishes to see him ride out of town on a rail, literally. While the train sat idling on the track he looked around the platform. There were still a few stragglers getting off the train, so he had a few more minutes to decide what he was going to do.

  A slip of a redhead was making her way down the steps of the last car. Wanda followed his gaze.

  "She doesn't look to be your type, honey. Why don't you reconsider and stay a bit longer? We sure could teach these townsfolk a thing or two."

  He knew she was referring to the time they'd spent together in Albany, going from saloon to saloon, carousing the night away. He was through with that kind of life.

  "I don't think so, Wanda." With a tip of his hat, he headed to the last compartment. The young woman stumbled over one of the two valises that she was trying to carry off the train.

  "Let me give you a hand." Reaching up, Cole took the bag out of her hand. She was a pretty little thing. But it was the set of her eyes that made him wonder, who did she remind him of?

  "It's very kind of you, sir. I have to say this trip never gets any easier. I don't know what to expect with this mountain weather so I usually pack everything I own."

  Cole frowned at her as she chattered on.

  Seeing the look of doubt on his face, she added, "Well, perhaps not everything. Oh, you do know what I mean." With a swish of her green skirts she was safely off the train.

  Turning she took the bag from his hand. "My, you are a handsome one. Are you sure you have to leave Surprise?"

  Cole grinned at her harmless flirtations. "I have to go."

  "Thank you for your help, Mister ... ? You do have a name don't you?"

  "Stanton. Cole
Stanton."

  "Thank you Mr. Stanton for assisting me. It was very gentlemanly of you. Have a safe trip." She flashed him a brilliant smile.

  He stood there for a few more minutes and watched her sashay away. Shaking his head at her friendly outgoing manner, he turned and went to find a seat thinking that Sheriff Abigail could take a few lessons from that young woman. Sighing, he leaned his head against the seat back.

  It wasn't long before doubts began swirling around in his mind. What was Abigail going to do with this sudden influx of people?

  Would she really be able to protect herself and the town?

  Stretching out his long legs, he crossed one foot over the other. It wasn't his problem. The seat shuddered as the train pulled away from the station. Tension stretched between his shoulder blades.

  He should be feeling relief. Here he was embarking on another journey, his life was before him. But it was what Cole was leaving behind him that was bothering the heck out of him.

  Abigail read the Wanted poster through a third time, hardly able to believe that she'd let this criminal slip away. Oh my, what had she done? She'd actually been at the train station and allowed him to board the train. Grabbing her hat off the desk, slapping it on her head, she raced out the door and almost tripped over her cousin.

  "Lydia!"

  "Abigail. Look at you the town's sheriff! I could hardly believe you'd done this when I'd read the letter Aunt Margaret sent. I had to come and see for myself."

  Giving her a quick hug, Abigail hurried to explain her hasty departure. "I can't talk to you right now, Lydia. I have a criminal and a train to catch."