Colt grinned at his assistant. So that was the way it was. “Not at all.”
“Well, all right, then.” Big Dan started to walk away.
“I had no idea you were interested in Gracie,” Colt said, stopping him.
“I don’t tell you everything, you know,” Dan said. “The fact is, I’ve liked her a good long while, but everybody knows she won’t tolerate anyone squiring her around who’s in the habit of tyin’ one on now and then.”
He shrugged and continued. “I thought about it, and decided that she’s a good woman and deserves the best. Not that I am, of course. Far from it. But you have to admire a woman with principles like that. So I been workin’ on things for several months now. I’m even readin’ my Bible and such, since I know that’s important to her.”
Colt stared at the man, impressed, as he often was, by just how far a smitten man would go to win a lady’s hand. Pretty potent stuff, love.
“That’s great, Dan,” Colt said, and meant it.
“So you gonna be here a spell? If you are, I think I’ll go talk to Gracie.”
Colt smiled again. “What’s the hurry?”
“If other guys are considerin’ her for matrimony, maybe I’d better not let any more grass grow under my feet.”
“I’ll be here,” Colt said with a laugh. “Go do your sparking.”
“Thanks, boss. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
“No rush.”
Big Dan turned at the door and held up a rough finger. “Don’t forget Ellie and her sister,” he said, and then, with another foolish smile, he almost danced out the door.
Ellie and her sister. He’d already established that Ellie was out of the question, and her sister... Colt frowned. Sighed. He’d said he’d consider every eligible female he could think of, and Miss Grainger certainly fit the bill. After another moment’s hesitation, he wrote Allison Grainger.
Thought a moment and wrote Smart. Educated.
It had been very kind of her to buy the things Cilla would need to begin her embroidery.
Thoughtful. Caring. Likes kids.
She’d proved that by writing to her professors and making arrangements for Cilla to learn some feminine pursuits.
What about the attraction, Colt?
Well, he certainly didn’t find her unattractive. In fact, she was more than all right, he supposed. Frowning, he kicked back, swung his feet to the desktop and laced his fingers together behind his head, his habitual thinking position.
He stared up at the ceiling and recalled how different she’d looked when he’d taken the children to apologize. There was no doubt that her hair made a tempting sight hanging free down her back. It made a man’s hands fairly itch to test the springy curls to see if they were as soft as they looked.
He sat bolt upright, the front legs of his chair hitting the floor with a thud. Tempting? Soft? A humorless chuckle escaped him. A man would have to be crazy to use those two words in the same breath as Allison Grainger. He picked up the pencil, determined to add her other good features to the list. She might be a tad plump, but she had nice skin, a nice nose, really unusual eyes and incredible eyelashes. Not to mention a pretty mouth.
He wrote everything down and scanned the list. There was no denying that it was impressive. If he were just looking at positives, Miss Allison Grainger had several. Of course, she had quite the temper when she was riled, but then, it was his experience that most women did. Still, he wrote that down, too—high-tempered. Stubborn.
Definitely stubborn and...opinionated.
He heard the door open and looked up. To his surprise, it was none other than the object of his thoughts, carrying an armload of books.
The list!
* * *
Allison watched as Colt stood, dragged open his middle desk drawer and shoved a tablet inside, almost in one motion. “Am I interrupting anything?”
“No, ma’am,” he said, a bit nervously. “Just, uh, making a list.”
“Oh.” She offered him a tentative smile and crossed to the desk, placing the books on the scarred top. “I found some books I thought you and Brady might enjoy,” she said. “And one I think Cilla might like.”
She hoped he could see that she was taking their problem seriously. He gestured toward the chair across from him, and she sat, smoothing her simple gray skirt and lacing her fingers together in her lap, hoping her own tension didn’t show. There was something about being in the same room with the sheriff that taxed her nerves. Next to her he was so big and tough-looking, not to mention so very good-looking that it was a wonder the ladies didn’t swoon when he passed them on the street. Her fingers tightened.
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” he told her, taking his seat again.
“I’m just doing my job, Sheriff,” she said, the tension she was feeling causing her to resort to her previous stiff demeanor.
“Colt,” he reminded her. “And it isn’t your job to lend us books, and buy Cilla sewing notions or offer her your piano to practice on.”
She granted him another jumpy, fleeting smile. “Well, since we have no lending library, it seemed like the thing to do. I’m hoping the children will see me as someone who really does have their best interests at heart.”
“I need to work on my fathering skills, too,” he said. “I’m planning on spending more time with them in the evenings.” He gave his head a shake. “I can’t believe they doubt that I love them.”
“Growing up is hard,” she said. “Children need to be shown love as well as being told they’re loved.” She gave a sad little sigh. “In fact, everyone does. Wouldn’t you agree?”
As soon as she said the words, she dropped her gaze to her lap, longing to call them back, lest he think she was getting too personal. Or he might think she was pining for love herself. Which, of course, she was. Even worse, he might think she was hinting that she wanted love from him! She pressed her lips together. Oh, why was she so inept when it came to conversing with the opposite sex?
She looked up, her gaze meeting his. The intensity in his eyes almost robbed her of breath. Why was he looking at her like that?
“I would definitely agree.”
Surely it was her imagination, but his voice sounded husky. Allison’s eyelids drifted downward, and just for an instant, she allowed herself the luxury of imagining that throaty voice whispering into her ear.
Desperate to change the subject, she raised her head and said, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Has Brady said what it is that interests him?”
Colt looked taken aback by the sudden change in the conversational topic. “Actually, he said he wants Lew Jessup to teach him how to play the harmonica, and he wants to learn to shoot a bow and arrow.”
Colt rubbed his cheek in a familiar gesture. “Thing is, the only person I know who can show him that is Ace, and I’m not sure where he is at the moment.”
“Ace Allen?” Allison couldn’t hide her shock. Ace, an improbable combination of Irish and Cherokee, had been sent to prison earlier in the year, along with Meg Thomerson’s husband, Elton, for a series of thefts and an attack on Sarah VanSickle. Fortunately for her, Gabe Gentry had come along to help on his way home from Antoine.
“But he’s in prison!”
Colt shook his head. “Not anymore. Actually, he’s been in prison twice. The first time was a manslaughter charge a few years ago.”
“Manslaughter! What happened?”
“I’m sure you can imagine that it’s tough being a half breed. He’s spent a lot of time defending himself to all the people who look down on him. He got into a fistfight taking up for his mama. The guy hit his head on a rock and died. It was an accident, but because of who he was, Ace spent two years at hard labor. When he got out, he went to Oklahoma for a while then came back here to help Nita out when Yancy d
ied.”
“I had no idea,” Allison breathed.
Colt shrugged. “Word got around that Elton’s partner was Indian. Ace may be half Irish, but everyone considers him Indian, and they knew he’d done time. To top things off, Elton corroborated that Ace was his partner even though Sarah and Gabe said otherwise.”
“Why would Elton lie about something like that?”
“I don’t have a clue. He must have something against Ace we don’t know about. Maybe he just likes to cause grief. I had no choice but to arrest him. Like I said, he got a raw deal, but thanks to a pardon from the governor, he was out pretty quick. We’ve kept it quiet on purpose, and there aren’t too many people who know. When he got out he took off like he did before, and no one knows where he is—not even his mother.”
“And you’re certain he’s innocent?” Allison asked, horrified that a criminal might be walking among them.
“I’m positive. Ace gave me a couple of names and I started digging around. It didn’t take long to link Thomerson to Joseph Jones from over around Murfreesboro. I also verified Ace’s whereabouts on the days of the other robberies, and there’s no way he could have been involved. A lot of folks in town will be eating crow when the truth comes out.”
Allison was impressed with Colt’s determination to seek justice for his friend. He was a good lawman, and despite his ambivalence toward God and his haphazard parenting skills, she believed he was a good man.
She remembered seeing Nita Allen’s son in town a time or two, and recalled his dignified bearing and the unrestrained beauty in the noble bone structure of his angular face. Both attributes said he’d walked through the fires of his own personal hell, come out on the other side and was somehow better for it.
“And you’re all right with him spending time with Brady even though he’s a convicted felon,” she stated.
Colt’s mouth twisted into a grim smile. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve proved that he wasn’t the one with Elton, and the death of that other guy was an accident. Young men fight. I know I did. There but for the grace of God, what happened to Ace could have happened to me or a dozen of my buddies.”
“I had no idea the two of you were friends. How did that happen?”
Colt smiled, and Allison’s heart did a little flip. “Like I said, after he got out of prison the first time, he went to Oklahoma to be with his family there until his wounds healed.”
“Wounds?”
“Prison isn’t a very nice place, and his wounds weren’t just physical. He needed to sort of cleanse his mind of the things done to him. He was up there a couple of years or so. He came back about the time I moved here, though he didn’t hang around town much. When we did meet, we hit it off. I reckon we’re as close as two people with such different backgrounds can be. All I know is that he’s always around when I need him, and he’s never let me down or turned me down, no matter what I ask of him.”
“He’s lucky to have a friend like you.”
“That goes both ways.”
“So you have no idea where he is?”
“Not exactly. He’s in the woods somewhere. He spends as much time there as he can and still provide for Nita. He says he needs time alone with God to help keep things in perspective.”
Though he hadn’t been around since before his latest arrest, Allison knew Ace had been to church services a few times, but he always came in after everyone was seated and sat on the floor near the door. His knack for slipping out during the closing prayer was a favorite topic of the church members.
She also knew that cleaned game and garden bounty sometimes showed up at some needy person’s house. The general consensus was that the gifts were left by Ace. Meg had mentioned it happening several times when Elton was gone on one of his extended absences.
“After lunch I thought I’d go put out the word that I’m looking for him, but even if I don’t find him, he’ll turn up sooner or later.”
“I’m sure he will.” Allison picked up the small watch she wore on a chain around her neck. “Speaking of lunch, I’d best get home and start something.”
“What are your plans for supper?”
Her startled gaze found his. What on earth did he have in mind? “N-nothing special,” she managed to say.
“Since I’m making a real effort to spend more time with the kids, I decided to have Ellie fix us some sandwiches and get some cold sarsaparillas from Gabe for our supper. He said I could borrow his croquet game and set it up out back. We’re having a backyard picnic. Would you like to join us?”
“I don’t—”
“Don’t say no,” he said with a persuasive smile. “I may need your help.”
The magic word. Help was what she did best. Allison hesitated only a moment. “Well, all right. I’d be glad to join you. Shall I bring a dessert?”
“Do you by any chance make chocolate pie?”
“My chocolate pie is far better than my piano playing or embroidery,” she said with a smile.
“I’ll look forward to trying it, then,” he said, smiling back. “About six?”
“Fine.” With her heart almost beating out of her chest, she made her way to the door.
“Allie?”
She sucked in a sharp little breath at his use of her family nickname. “Yes?” she said, turning.
“How does your croquet game stack up against your embroidery and piano playing?”
She looked at him with raised eyebrows and a taunting expression in her eyes. “It ranks right up there with my chocolate pie, so beware. What about you?”
“I’m new to it, but picking it up pretty fast,” he told her with a cocky smile.
“Well, you might have a fighting chance since I’m not seeing as well as I might if I had my glasses.”
“Oh, my!” he said with a grin. “Is that a challenge? I’ve never been one to turn down a dare.”
She gave a slight lift of her shoulders. Then, without another word, she opened the door, leaving Colt standing there with a bemused look on his face.
* * *
“You’ve been a great help,” Mr. Gentry said, handing both Cilla and Brady a handful of penny candy when they finished their chores at the mercantile.
“Thank you, Mr. Gentry,” they said in unison, thrilled to receive something tangible for their efforts when they’d been expecting nothing but the reduction of their debt. Mr. Gentry was really nice and a lot of fun, even though he expected the work to get done.
He smiled. “You’re very welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow about the same time.”
They said their goodbyes, left the store and headed to the jail. Cilla wanted to tell her father that she was going by the boardinghouse to talk to Mrs. Carson about starting her piano lessons, and her dad was a real stickler when it came to letting him know where you were and what you were doing.
Cilla sucked on a piece of taffy as they made their way to the jail. She was surprised to realize that working off their debt wasn’t going to be as onerous a chore as she’d imagined. She was used to doing most of the housework, and she had a natural tendency toward tidiness, so it was no hard task to straighten and dust shelves and arrange items in a neat way.
Mr. Gentry had even trusted her to unpack and display the new shipment of hats, and she found herself examining each one as she set it on its form, considering which one might look best as Miss Grainger’s replacement. There were six in all, but Cilla’s favorites were a small hat with an upturned brim and lace edging that sat toward the back of the head; a chipped straw with a wide brim and a cluster of blue and purple flowers in front; and a tall one that Mr. Gentry called a “flowerpot” hat, adorned with both flowers and feathers. That was Cilla’s favorite.
Brady helped Gabe and his son Danny in the back, though from the way they were laughing, it hadn’t sounded as if much work wa
s getting done.
It had been an interesting afternoon in many ways, and she had a lot of thinking to do. She’d caught Danny alone and asked how their friend Ben Carter liked having Caleb Gentry as a stepfather. Danny said Ben loved Caleb, even though he hadn’t liked the notion of his mom marrying at first. Then Cilla asked how Danny liked having a new father. He told her it was swell having his parents together and being part of a real family.
Still unconvinced, Cilla figured that maybe Ben was just thankful his stepfather had found him when he’d fallen down that steep embankment and broken his leg. And Danny would like Mr. Gentry, because he was his real father, after all.
At the moment, she was no nearer accepting the notion that her pa would take a wife. Contrarily, she’d more or less reconciled herself to the fact that it was bound to happen whether she liked it or not.
Leaving her troubled thoughts behind, she pushed through the front door of the jail. There was no one behind the desk.
“He’s not here,” Brady said when they stepped through the door.
“I can see that,” she said crossly.
“What are you gonna do?”
“I’m sure Dan is around here somewhere,” she said, heading through the door that led to the cell area. Sure enough, the deputy was there, taking a nap on one of the narrow cots, flat on his back, his hands folded across his middle and his mouth hanging open. He was snoring softly. Brady put a hand over his own mouth to stifle a giggle, but his eyes were alight with laughter. Grinning, Cilla dragged him back to the office and eased the door shut.
“I’ll leave Pa a note,” she said, pulling open the desk’s top right-hand drawer. Nothing but a couple of pairs of handcuffs, a bandanna and some shotgun shells. The lower one was empty. She drew open the middle drawer and spied the tablet on top.
Pulling it out, she plopped it onto the desk and was about to tear out a sheet of paper when she saw the list of names. She read it slowly. Then read it again. There was no way she could misunderstand what she was seeing, since it was labeled at the top of the page, and unlike her brother, her reading skills were excellent.
Wolf Creek Father (Wolf Creek, Arkansas Book 3) Page 9