"Well I'm not." He stood with his back resting against the wall, he arms folded across his massive chest and his feet crossed at the ankles of his long muscular legs.
"Then why do you spend so much time with her?"
"You've got to be joking? Remember how you asked me to pretend to be interested in her?"
"You certainly didn't have to be so convincing about it!"
"You're jealous!" He started to laugh. "You are really jealous of Wanda McCurdy. Well, I'll be ..."
She snorted. "I am not jealous."
It was his turn to snort.
"Look, Abby, I didn't rob the jewelry store."
"I know you didn't. But the fact still remains that the description on the poster is a match to you. There's no denying it, Cole."
He was looking at her as if he could see right through her. One minute he wanted her to think like a Sheriff, cold and calculating, while the next minute he was asking her to think like a woman. She'd pushed her feelings for him aside so many times over the past weeks that it was difficult to admit to herself and to him how she really felt.
Pushing himself away from the wall, he sat next to her. "Look, Wanda knows something about that robbery. Do you have any descriptions of the pieces that were stolen?"
She shook her head. "I don't remember seeing anything like that. But, it doesn't mean that we can't find out. I could always send a telegram to the authorities in Albany asking for the description."
"That may not be necessary. Let me ask you something else-did you ever hang the Wanted poster outside on the notice board?"
"No. As soon as I realized you fit the description, I tucked it away in the desk drawer where I keep most of the older notices."
He pondered her answer for a few minutes and said, "Wanda said she saw the poster hanging outside the office. She mentioned that with my beard gone I no longer looked like the description."
"If she hasn't ever seen the Wanted poster, then how could she possibly know what the description said? Unless ..."
He smiled, and finished her sentence. "Unless she was the one who gave my description to the authorities in Albany."
Frowning, Abigail wondered allowed, "What if she saw the poster someplace else, like on the train or in a newspaper?"
"I don't think so. Wanda specifically said that she saw the poster hanging outside your office."
"Let's say that she was involved in the robbery, where is the jewelry?"
"I think she has some of it on her. Those sapphire earrings she had on the other day were real."
Abigail stood and began pacing the cell thinking about what Cole had just told her. If all of this were true then she had the wrong man behind bars. Nibbling on her lower lip, she studied the tips of her shoes. Was it possible that he'd been telling the truth all along and she'd been too stubborn to investigate further?
Feeling slightly ashamed, Abigail raised her eyes and, looking at Cole, said, "I'm sorry for not believing you before this all happened."
He seemed surprised at her apology and, rising from the bunk, he stood before her. "You were just doing your job."
"Yes and a fine job I made of it. I didn't even look any further than you for a suspect, even when you told me you didn't do it. Maybe this town needs a new sheriff, one who will do the job right."
"This town doesn't want another sheriff, they want you. Abigail, you're doing a good job here. I told you so the other night and I meant it."
Abigail smiled. "Thank you."
Placing his hand under her chin, he tipped her head back. "I'm going to kiss you."
"Oh!"
Lowering his head, Cole placed his lips on hers. At first she didn't respond, and then slowly she moved her lips against his. They felt warm and moist upon hers. Her heartbeat quickened as Cole deepened the kiss. Slowly he broke away and gathered her in his arms.
"I've been wanting to do that for the longest time," he murmured against her ear.
Uncertainty flooded through her. How could she let this man kiss her? After all, she didn't even know anything about him. Weeks had passed since they first met and still, he hadn't told her who he was or where he'd grown up. Did he have sisters and brothers, she wondered? If she was going to give her heart to this man, then she needed to know who he was.
Without taking her head off his shoulder, Abigail said, "Tell me who you are, Cole."
Cole blew out the breath he'd been holding. He shouldn't have given in to the impulse to kiss her. Now she was in his arms, feeling as if she'd always belonged there. Cole sighed. There was so much to tell and he didn't know what to say. He wasn't even certain that he wanted to tell anyone about his past; even the woman he was falling in love with.
"Cole?"
He tried to muster up a smile for her, but the only thing he managed was a frown. "I hardly know where to begin."
"Try the beginning. Tell me where you lived as a little boy."
He wanted to capture the look of enthusiasm and innocence that appeared on Abigail's face and keep it with him forever. Because, even now all these years later, he still felt raw, unhealed, his pain like an open wound that refused to close up.
Cole would keep his explanation as simple as possible. "I had a younger sister. My mother and father had settled along the banks of the upper Hudson River. We had a log cabin just big enough for my family."
Oh God! He couldn't do this, even for Abigail, he couldn't go back to that place in his life that bore nothing but pain and agony for him. Releasing her, he turned and scrubbed his hands over his face trying to erase any look of pain.
Forcing his hands not to shake, he lit the lantern hanging on the wall near the bunk. The flame sputtered and then took. He set the lantern on the table.
"What is your sister's name?"
"Her name was Beth."
"Was? Did something happen to her?" She took a step towards him and laid her hand upon his arm.
This was agony for him and yet seeing the compassion shining in Abigail's eyes, he knew that he had to tell her everything. "She died. A very long time ago, my parents and Beth died from influenza."
"Oh Cole, I'm so terribly sorry. I shouldn't have gone on and on about your family. Please, forgive me."
Leaning against the cold steel bars of their prison, he said, gruffly, "There's nothing to forgive. It's been a long time since I've spoken about what happened."
The flame from the lantern flickered as evening shadows spread over the room. It was quiet. Abigail was standing very near to him and he could hear her shallow breathing. He could almost sense what she was thinking and wished she'd leave him alone.
"The nightmares, they were about your family weren't they?" She spoke softly as if fearing any loudness would set him off.
He nodded. "They started soon after I buried them in our apple orchard. Little Beth loved apples. Applesauce, mama's apple pie, apples cut into small chunks. She could never get enough of them."
Abigail smiled at him and said in soothing tones, "What a wonderful memory."
"She was so young, still a baby." He felt as if his heart was splitting open.
"I can tell that you loved your family very much."
He rested his head against the bars feeling exhausted and heartbroken all over again. Cole knew that he'd been better off not getting attached to anyone or anything. He vowed a long time ago never to open his heart, never to share his life with anyone. How did Abigail work her way into his life? When had he become so attached to this town?
Feelings of frustration, rage, sadness and loneliness rolled through him at the same time. Abigail had backed away from him and was standing near the edge of the bunk. It was as if she felt his pain and knew that even she couldn't reach through the suffering and pull him out whole again.
"I can see that you're not ready, even after all these years, to face the memories-good or bad. I'm going to tell you something Cole, and all I'm asking is that you listen carefully to what I have to say before responding."
She sat on th
e end of the bed and crossed her legs. "I can't profess to understand how horrible the death of your family was, but looking at you right now, I can see it still tearing away at your soul. I know that we got off to a very rocky start and that you don't think Surprise holds any kind of a life for you, but if you give the town a chance you may see that it just might."
He couldn't speak. Raw emotions threatened to choke him, so he concentrated on her words.
"Cole, it's time for you to start to live again, to trust that life holds more happiness for you. You're not going to defile their memory if you start to feel alive again. I believe your family would want you to be happy. Don't you believe that, too, Cole?"
He didn't know what to believe in anymore. Cole wanted to believe in Abigail Monroe, he wanted to let her into his heart in the most desperate way. There was still so much he didn't know about her.
"Tell me, Abby, why did you leave your fiance at the altar?"
Surprised by his question, she jumped up from the bed and walked over to him. "I did not leave Edwin at the altar. He left me."
Quirking an eyebrow, he looked at her and caught a glimpse of the old pain she'd kept carefully hidden. So she'd had her heart broken too, but in a different way. He imagined it hurt all the same.
"That must have been very difficult for you."
"At first, yes it was. Then I realized I didn't love Edwin and going our separate ways was for the best."
He pondered her insight for a moment and then said, "You came to Surprise for a new start."
"I suppose I did. Aunt Margaret helped me make the decision to come here."
He snorted at her words. "Miss Margaret helps a lot of people with their lives doesn't she?"
Shrugging her shoulders, she replied, "She enjoys helping others. It's her calling."
Meddling was more like what she did, but Cole wasn't going to argue the point with Abigail, not when they were so close to each other.
The clock struck nine times. "Time is just flying by," Cole muttered.
"Let's talk about your work release program. Tell me how you find working with Alexander Judson?"
"I enjoy working with my hands. Before I came here I had a small construction company of my own."
"Why did you leave your company?"
"I was beginning to feel closed in." Truth be told he'd been feeling at home and that had scared him. All he could remember was how it felt to lose everything one holds dear. And he ran.
"I'm sorry."
Looking into the depths of her bluegreen eyes he saw that she was sorry, but more than that, he saw her compassion.
Leaning down, he touched his lips lightly to her forehead. He couldn't help himself. Cole wanted to kiss those lips again.
Reaching out to him, Abigail cupped his face in her hands and brought her lips to his. For several minutes Cole lost himself in the feeling of her kisses. Then gently he extricated himself from her grasp. "We need to stop."
"Why? Am I doing it wrong?"
"Oh, no, you are doing everything right and that is why we're going to stop kissing right this minute. You may sit on one end of the bunk and I'll sit on the other."
Satisfied when he'd put some distance between them, Cole settled into his end of the bunk. He rested his head against the brick wall thinking about the feelings that Abigail brought out in him. He found, along with his undeniable attraction to her, came a need to want to protect her.
He couldn't help thinking about her former fiance Edwin was a fool. Abigail still hadn't told him why Edwin left her.
"Why didn't Edwin marry you?"
She lifted her head and looked across the bunk at him. Her gaze was clear and steady, but Cole didn't miss the look of pain that crossed once more through her beautiful bluegreen eyes.
Softly she answered, "I wasn't pretty enough for him."
Cole's eyebrows shot skyward. "What?" he fairly bellowed.
"He wanted someone blonder and well you know ... shapelier." With a quick shrug of her shoulders she added, "I didn't fit his image of what he wanted his wife to be."
"It sounds to me like he wanted someone shallow, a woman who he could parade around on his arm."
"I suppose so."
Daring to move inches closer to Abigail, Cole said with affirmation, "Look at me, Abby." When finally she did, he smiled. "This Edwin, what's his last name?"
"Quinn."
"Edwin Quinn is a fool to have let you go. You're pretty, compassionate, intelligent, and witty."
Frowning as if she didn't believe a word he'd just spoken, Abigail said, "You sound like you're writing an advertisement for the newspaper."
Grinning at her, Cole reached out and gently ran his hand along the smooth skin of her cheek. "Well, I'm not. I'm trying to tell you that I think you're wonderful."
Her eyes glistened. He caught the first tear as it slid from her eye.
"No man has ever said anything like what you just said to me. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Sniffing, she pulled a white handkerchief from her pocket, gently wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Putting the kerchief back in her pocket, she settled against his shoulder. "I think you're wonderful too." Putting her hand over her mouth, Abigail stifled a yawn.
"It's getting late, Sheriff, we should try to get some sleep."
"Yes, it appears that Lydia isn't coming back until morning."
Reaching for the blanket, Abigail added, "Tomorrow we'll get this whole mess settled and then we'll deal with what's going on between us."
Slanting her a look, he asked, "There's something between us?"
"I'm afraid so." Snuggling under the blanket, Abigail closed her eyes.
For the longest time, Cole just watched her sleep. Noting the way her long silky eyelashes rested against her skin, and liking the way her mouth, even in sleep, was curved ever so gently into the smallest of smiles. Only when she was completely asleep did he settle back against the hard wall.
Sighing, he waited for sleep to come and, when it did, he dreamed that he was sitting under the apple tree in the backyard where he grew up. Beth was dancing around him, her little feet gently turning down the blades of grass. She was holding a brilliant red apple and the sunlight glinted off her downy hair.
He smiled as he heard Beth's bubbly laughter. Suddenly Cole felt warm and alive, he felt Beth's small hand as she placed the apple inside of his. Beside him in the bunk, Abigail shifted her position, curling up next to him with her head in his lap. He awoke with a start, taking a minute to remember where he was.
Stroking a hand over Abigail's hair, he smiled; this was the first time he'd ever had a good dream about his family. He owed that to Abigail. His heart swelled as some of the old pain left his soul.
The train's shrill whistle woke her. Abigail sat up with a start. Cole was already awake and standing with his back to her, looking out at the office.
"Lydia isn't here?"
"Not yet," he said.
Pushing the blanket aside, she got up, straightening out her skirt and hair. What a mess she must be. "What time is it?"
"A quarter past seven."
"The train is early."
Turning, he looked at her. Abigail thought she had to be mistaken, but she wasn't. Cole was actually smiling at her. She also noticed that he looked decidedly more relaxed than she'd ever seen him before. Gone was the grim look which had always seemed to shadow his eyes, and even his smile appeared more genuine.
Even though she was dying to know what had brought about this change in him, it would have to wait. Right now they had to get out of there and find Wanda McCurdy before she figured out they were on to her.
"Don't you have a hidden key or something we can use to open this door?" Cole asked as he shook the bars.
"I don't have another key. Sadly the only ones I have are hanging over there on the wall." She nodded in the direction of the front door, where the keys still hung taunting them both.
Turning around in a slow circle, Abigail
began looking about the cell, trying to see if there wasn't something they could use to unlatch the lock. She began to rummage through the box that their dinner had been in and yelled when something sharp bit into her hand.
"Ouch." Lifting her hand out of the box, she examined the small drops of blood coming from the tip of her finger. "I didn't see anything sharp in here last night."
"Are you all right?" Cole took her hand in his and looked at the small puncture wound. He kissed the tip of each finger, and said, "To make them heal faster."
Taking her hand from his, Abigail reached gingerly into the box and pulled out a small sandwich knife. It had been there all along, except not where you'd notice it, unless a person had been looking for it.
"Lydia!" Abigail hissed. Her cousin was quite the sneak, giving them a way out, without telling them ahead of time.
Handing the knife to Cole, she said, "Here, you break us out."
After a few minutes of jiggling the knife in the lock, the door sprung open and they were freed.
By eight o'clock in the morning the town was bustling with activity. The two freight cars on the train were being unloaded while farmers and merchants loaded their wagons with the goods. Lydia hurried along to the jail, figuring that by now Abigail and Mr. Stanton were more than ready to be set free.
Pausing, she lifted the cloth napkin off the top of the basket she carried and inhaled the sweet scent of the cinnamon rolls she'd helped Anne bake earlier that morning. My, what a wonderful day it was, she thought. Hopefully, her cousin and Mr. Stanton had reconciled their differences. If not, she didn't know what she would have to do next.
"Lydia! Lydia Louise, is it really you!"
Turning at the sound of the familiar voice, Lydia could hardly believe her eyes. "Oh my gosh, Maggie!" Dropping the basket in front of the sheriff's office she ran across the street to embrace her cousin.
WOMEN OF SURPRISE 01: A Surprise For Abigail Page 10