"What?"
Releasing her hand, he reached up and ran his thumb across her lips. "Smile."
If she thought his touch jolted her before, this time she fairly jumped out of her skin. Clearing her throat she said softly, "I should let you get to your shaving."
Dropping his hand to his side, he nodded in agreement.
Turning, she left the cell. "I'll be just outside the door. If you need anything just give a shout."
"I'll be sure and do just that."
He was grinning at her, she was sure of it. But Abigail didn't dare look back to see. Instead, she opened the door to the office and went outside for a welcoming breath of fresh air. The sun felt warm for the first time in a long while.
The minutes seemed to crawl by. Abigail started to pace along the walkway in front of the building. Back and forth she went, in carefully measured steps. Every once in a while she'd pause to peer through the windows. The dust had built up on the glass again making it near impossible to see what he, Cole, was doing.
She began to tap her toe, impatient with the process. After a few minutes she went back to pacing again-one long measured step after another. When three quarters of an hour had passed and still no sound from within, Abigail decided it was time to see exactly what was going on.
The brass knob felt cold against her palm. Slowly she turned it, pushing the door open. Cole was sitting on the edge of the cot. And as Abigail looked at him, the breath left her body. She gripped the doorknob to keep from fainting at the sight of him.
"Oh, my ..." she gasped. What had she done?
Stepping into the room, Abigail thought her heart might just stop beating at the sight of him. She couldn't help thinking there ought to be a law against looking the way Cole Stanton did right now. Not only had he shaved his beard, but he'd changed out of his work clothes and into the white shirt and black trousers.
Even though he looked mighty fine in the new clothes, it was his face that held her mesmerized. Without his beard, the color of Cole's eyes appeared to be even darker, almost black. He'd high cheekbones, and the line of his jaw was firm, strong. Her gaze traveled to his mouth, his full lips and she realized with a start that he was grinning rather sheepishly at her.
"Quite a change, huh?"
He was holding the cracked mirror that used to hang on the wall in his hand, looking at his reflection.
She was speechless.
He ran his free hand through the shortened locks of his dark hair. He'd cut his hair. The strands curled at the ends in soft waves.
And still she was speechless.
"Sheriff?" He arched his dark eyebrows, looking directly at her, waiting.
Clearing her throat, she swallowed hard. "You look ... different." Now that was as lame a statement as she'd ever spoken.
"Different?"
Oh my. Whereas before she'd had to guess what he was thinking, now she could see it written clearly on his face. Narrowing his eyes, he gazed at her, looking befuddled.
Tossing the mirror onto the cot, he stood, placing his hand on his hips, he towered over her. "Is that the best you can come up with?" There was a devilish glint in his dark eyes.
"N-no," she stuttered. Taking a step back, she tried to fend him off. He matched her with a step of his own, pinning her against the steel bars.
"I know I look different. But, tell me, Abigail how do I really look to you now?" Along with the devilish glint he'd added a wolfish grin.
Devastating, dangerous, and those were just two of the words that began with D that she could think of off the top of her head.
"You look incredibly handsome." She said it so softly that Abigail wasn't sure she'd even spoken.
And then Cole grinned. "Thank you."
"My, my, my! Will you look at our prisoner now?" Lydia came sweeping into the office slamming the door behind her. "I went over to the mercantile to purchase some things and Mr. Jules informed me you'd already been in." She glanced quickly at Abigail.
Coming to stand just outside of the cell, she gave him a quick once over. "Mr. Stanton, you look like a new man. Oh, and by the way, I'm to extend an invitation for dinner to you. Aunt Margaret would like you to come this evening. That's if it's all right with the Sheriff."
"It's not Sunday," Cole said.
"Well, no it's not. I believe this is Wednesday. Aunt Margaret would like to know how the work release program is going."
Still stunned by the change in Cole's appearance, Abigail was only half-listening to what her cousin was saying. Nodding her head, she agreed to the dinner arrangements.
"Now that we have that settled, I'm to tell you, Mr. Wagner will be by to bring you to Aunt Margaret's in an hour." Grabbing hold of Abigail's arm, Lydia tugged her out of the cell. "That will give us plenty of time to get ready."
Blinking, Abigail realized, too late, she'd agreed to yet another one of Aunt Margaret's ludicrous schemes. By the time they were outside and walking to the house, she knew there was to be no turning back.
"What are you two up to now?" She hated to sound cynical, but how could she help it, when the two of them continued to make plans without consulting her first.
Shrugging her delicate shoulders, Lydia replied, "Not a thing. This is just a dinner, Abigail. Why must you make it seem like something more?"
"Perhaps if you and our aunt saw fit to discuss these matters with me first I wouldn't always be put in the position of imagining the worst."
Lydia stopped walking and turned to face her. Abigail could see by the expression on her face she'd hurt her feelings.
"Have we ever done anything to hurt you, Abigail?"
Reaching out she pulled Lydia into her arms. "No and I'm sorry." Quick to reassure her she added, "I know you only want what's best for me."
"Yes, I do," Lydia sniffed more for effect.
Arm in arm they walked up the steps to the house. Anna met them at the door. "There you girls are. We were wondering what was keeping you. Abigail, you're to go straight upstairs and change out of those clothes. Lydia, Miss Margaret needs your help in the dining room."
Both of them did as they were told. As Abigail made her way up the grand staircase to her room, she overheard Lydia saying to Aunt Margaret, "Mr. Stanton looks divine. Wait until you see him."
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and she gave into the feeling, thinking that divine was yet another word beginning with D. She hadn't thought of that word to describe Cole.
Abigail began to undress the moment she closed the bedroom door. Only when she was standing in her thin cotton chemise did she begin to panic. What on earth was she thinking? She was certain not one item in her wardrobe would be right for this evening.
She wanted to look as special as Cole did, but most of her clothing was brown or gray in color. Abigail wanted to wear something soft and feminine. Pushing one hanger after another to the back of her closet in frustration, Abigail was beginning to think all was lost when, with one last swish of dark fabric, a creamcolored gown was exposed.
Fingering the soft, satiny material, she tried not to remember the reason she'd purchased this particular gown. This was to have been part of her wedding trousseau. When she'd first come to Surprise she'd purposely hung the gown in the back of the closet where she wouldn't have to be reminded of the philandering Edwin Quinn.
Carefully, pulling the dress out, Abigail held the swirling garment up against her. This would be perfect for dinner.
She was preparing to finish dressing when a knock sounded at the door.
"Abigail, it's Lydia. May I come in?"
"By all means." Abigail threw the wrapper around her shoulders and ran to let her cousin in. And there, bless her heart, stood Lydia with a hairbrush and ribbons of varying colors and shades to dress Abigail's hair.
Lydia entered the room, the expression on her face bursting into a wide smile. "This is one of the prettiest dresses I've ever seen!" Placing the brush and ribbons on the low dressing table, she reached for the garment.
>
Fingering the soft and satiny fabric, Abigail beamed at Lydia. "It is perfect, isn't it? Help me get into this."
Twenty minutes later Lydia had not only helped her get into the pretty dress, but she'd also brushed out her hair and put it in a simple single braid that hung down Abigail's back. Standing in front of the Cheval mirror, they admired their handiwork.
"Not too over done and certainly not as drab as your sheriff's clothes. You look beautiful."
Staring at her reflection, Abigail thought she could agree with her cousin on this matter. Her transformation, while not as dramatic as Cole's, would certainly garner his attention. "Thank you for helping me."
Abigail couldn't help grinning at her. She knew that Lydia meant well by her comment, and truth be told, her daytime clothes were a tad bit drab. She was the Sheriff after all and couldn't very well be going around dressed like a floozy or heaven forbid, like Wanda McCurdy.
They left the room and went downstairs, where Anna was rushing to open the front door and usher in their dinner guests. Mr. Wagner entered ahead of Cole. Abigail paused, her foot just about to come off the last step.
Cole looked even better outside of the jail cell. Prisoner or not, the man simply took her breath away. It didn't take her long to notice that he was staring back at her. She'd almost forgotten about her own transformation.
"Sheriff, might I say, you're looking mighty pretty this evening."
"Thank you, Cole." Abigail smiled.
"You're welcome." He held his arm out, escorting her into the dining room where Aunt Margaret was seated at the head of the table.
"John, Mr. Stanton, I'm so glad you could both join us." Aunt Margaret tilted her cheek expectantly. Leaning down Mr. Wagner placed a light kiss upon it.
A long row of tapered white candles sat snugly in brass holders lining the mantle, the flickering of the tiny flames casting a welcome glow over the room.
Looking over at the young woman being escorted on his arm, Cole considered Abigail. It was hard for him to believe that just a few short weeks ago he'd actually thought she was a weakling. Now it was quite clear to him just how mistaken he'd been. She was stronger in spirit than her cousin and aunt combined.
This evening she was especially pretty. He found himself flattered and humbled by the trouble she'd gone to for this evening's dinner. The creamcolored gown that she wore suited her. The garment hugged her curves in all the right places with the scooped neckline giving only a hint of the creamy white skin that lay beneath.
Her hair was done in a simple braid, a style that he found absolutely charming and beguiling on her at the same time. She smiled at him and he returned the favor.
"Mr. Stanton, you're looking very handsome this evening." Nodding at Abigail, Miss Margaret said, "And you my dear, did a fine job of picking out his clothing."
The faintest of blushes rose on her face. Shrugging her shoulders, Abigail replied, "It was no trouble, really. Mr. Jules helped with most of the selections."
Uncomfortable at all the attention, Cole quickly changed the subject. "Thank you for the dinner invitation. And here I thought having prisoners at the table was only a Sunday tradition." He grinned at Miss Margaret.
He was going to miss his beard; the whiskers had done a fine job of hiding his expressions. Absently, rubbing a hand over the smooth skin, he felt naked.
"You're always welcome at my table."
Behind him, Abigail cleared her throat and he didn't have to turn around to know she was casting the severest of reprimanding looks at her aunt. The Sheriff didn't approve of all this nonsense. Well, what's done was done and no matter what, he was going to enjoy this heavenly prepared meal.
Two hours later they were all sitting in the formal front parlor enjoying a fine cup of coffee and a delicious chocolate cake. Even if this was the strangest town he'd ever been in, Cole would never regret his time spent having dinner with Miss Margaret.
"So tell me, Mr. Stanton, how do you know Wanda McCurdy?" Miss Margaret asked.
He concentrated on forcing every muscle in his face to remain still. Then taking a deep breath he answered, "I met her when I was in Albany."
The old woman innocently sipped at her tea, then smiled at him. "It's quite odd how she ended up here, isn't it?"
It didn't take long for Abigail to spring into action. "Aunt Margaret that will be enough," she warned.
"Really, Abigail, I'm just asking a question."
"The answers to which don't concern you."
Miss Margaret's eyes flashed in rare anger. "They most certainly do! If the citizens of this town are in any danger from that woman then it's my concern and yours as well, might I add."
Cole looked at her. It was amazing to think that when he'd first met her she seemed to be nothing more than a frail old woman on the brink of being bedridden. And now she had enough fire in her to heat the entire house. This only confirmed his suspicions-she was not ill.
It appeared that he wasn't the only in this town keeping secrets from the sheriff.
Lydia moved between her aunt and cousin. "Please don't argue. It will ruin a perfectly fine evening."
"For goodness sakes Lydia, Abigail and I are not arguing, we're having a heated exchange of words."
At Miss Margaret's comment the entire room burst into laughter. Cole shook his head in disbelief thinking, this was one crazy family.
"What do you say I take Mr. Stanton back to jail and you can stay here, Sheriff?" Mr. Wagner asked.
Abigail snapped to attention. "He's my responsibility. I'll see he gets back safely. Thank you for the offer."
Mr. Wagner smiled that goofy smile of his and said, "Goodnight then. Margaret, thank you for a delightful evening and as always the food was delicious."
"You're welcome, John."
A crescent moon hung in the star-dotted sky. Even though it was just past eight o'clock the town was quiet. Cole and Abigail were the only ones on the street.
"You were a little hard on your aunt, don't you think?"
Pebbles crunched under their footfalls. A lone owl hooted. Abigail fumed. She had not been hard on her aunt.
"She needs to stop interfering."
"Abby, your aunt loves you very much."
"I know. Maybe that's part of the problem, she loves too much."
Frowning at her, Cole said, "You don't really believe that."
She didn't think it possible to ever love someone too much, but having had only one sour relationship, Abigail only had her family to compare love to. As much as she dearly loved her family, she'd sense enough not to cross the line and try to run their lives.
"You know something, Cole? I don't want to discuss this anymore."
"All right, let's just enjoy our evening stroll." He surprised her by linking his arm through hers.
Hesitating, she reluctantly took her arm from his. "This isn't right." Out of the corner of her eye she saw Cole's eyebrow quirk. Sighing, Abigail explained, "We're not some young couple out for a romantic stroll. I'm the Sheriff and you're my prisoner."
Leaning in towards her, he said, "True enough. I thought you might need some help walking over the rough spots. No harm in being a gentleman, is there, Sheriff?"
She met his dark gaze, and seeing the twinkle in his eyes, realized he was teasing her. "No." Smiling she re-linked their arms.
Patting her hand, he said, "Much better. You're doing a fine job as Sheriff."
"Do you think so? I mean I haven't had any experience. You already know that, though." She was nervous.
"It's clear your neighbors like you and feel safe with you doing the job. You underestimate yourself, Abby. From what I've seen, you are making this job yours."
Thinking about what Cole said, she realized he'd been the only person to tell her she was doing a good job.
"Thank you for being so nice to me."
"You're welcome."
"Now, tell me how you know Wanda McCurdy."
"It's as I mentioned at your aunt's. I met her in Al
bany. She was a saloon girl, why the curiosity?"
"Something about her doesn't fit. The expensive clothing she wears certainly doesn't go along with her background as a serving girl."
"I noticed her clothing and jewelry too."
They walked along in silence, past the lumber yard and the mercantile before Abigail spoke again. "I have a plan and I need your help to carry it out."
Pulling her to a stop, Cole looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. "What sort of plan?"
"I'm not going to ask you to rob a bank, if that's what you're thinking," she replied, trying to keep the mood light.
"I didn't expect a law-abiding citizen such as yourself to suggest such a thing you know, considering you're the Sheriff and all."
She grinned back at him, continuing with her plan, "There's something suspect about the woman. More than just her appearance, I think." Sucking her lower lip between her teeth, Abigail inhaled, wishing this wasn't so hard. She'd seen how the woman acted around Cole and wasn't sure she wanted to be the one to bring them closer together.
Blowing out the breath she'd been holding, she said, "I need you to get close to her. Find out what she's been doing since she left you in Albany. Find out how it is that she can afford such expensive finery."
"You're kidding, right?"
"No, Cole, I'm perfectly serious about this. If you want to prove your innocence then you're going to have to help me get to the bottom of the jewelry store robbery."
Seeing he needed more convincing, she added, "She seems to have taken a liking to you. Trust my woman's intuition on this; it'll be easier for you to get the answers than it would be for me to."
The more she thought about their situation the more sense her idea made. If she wanted to prove this man's innocence then he was going to have to agree to the plan.
Somewhere over the course of the evening, Abigail decided that she really did believe in his innocence.
"Seeing how Miss McCurdy already has her sights set on me, I guess it won't be too much trouble to help you out."
WOMEN OF SURPRISE 01: A Surprise For Abigail Page 8