The Marshal's Mission

“About the pie.” She nodded at the pastry. “I know it looks terrible, but I’m hoping it tastes better than it appears.”

He shoved away his recollections. “So far, I haven’t been disappointed by anything you’ve made. See no reason to start now.”

Smiling, she turned to study her son’s spelling.

“That one is right.” She pointed to Toby’s slate. “What about that one?”

Her son growled before erasing his work and trying again. “Can this be the last word, Ma? Please?”

“Of course.” She kissed the top of his head before approaching the sideboard.

As she pulled the pie closer to cut it, Cole scooted out of the way.

“No, I meant can this be my last spelling word forever?” Toby glanced at Cole, then his mother. “I don’t need any more spelling or arithmetic. I’m almost eleven.”

“Age has nothing to do with learning,” she answered in a serene voice as she dished up generous portions.

When Toby still didn’t appear convinced, Cole added his two bits. “Almost eleven? When does this happen?”

“Next month.”

“I mean how many days?”

“It’ll be in...” The youngster’s forehead wrinkled, and his lips moved as he calculated.

Cole again took his seat as Lenora set a hunk of pie in front of him. Glancing up, he caught her grin before she smoothed it out of existence. Because she knew why he was asking Toby the date?

Her son finally resorted to counting on his fingers. “Seventeen—no, eighteen days.”

“See there.” Cole grabbed his fork. “Your arithmetic skills just came in handy.”

The youngster glanced their way with narrowed eyes. Like he knew his mother and Cole were ganging up on him?

“Okay, put your homework away and let’s have pie.” She set his piece down.

It didn’t take long for Toby to do as he was told. They both dived into the tart dessert. After the first bite, Cole gave Lenora a thumbs-up as it simultaneously melted in his mouth and made it pucker. She smiled and took a delicate forkful. Mindful of his manners, he forced himself to eat slowly. Somehow, he got the feeling that she preferred good deportment.

Again, just like his ma. Once upon a time, he recalled her threatening the three men in her family with no dinner if they acted like pigs diving into their slop.

He considered. Why so many memories of Andrew lately? For sixteen years Cole had been successful in suppressing them. With the remembrances came the uncomfortable feeling that he was shirking his duty—the whole reason he had come to Wyoming Territory. Because he hadn’t been more aggressive about pursuing the Jeb Hackett gang?

Truth was, Cole liked it there. It would be easy to set down the burden of his life’s mission for a spell.

“Hey, Cole.” In the warm glow of the lantern light, Toby’s mouth was stained red from the pie’s berries. “I was thinking about Sheba.”

“Oh?” He smacked his lips.

“If she has a filly, you should name her Queen.” The youngster grinned at him. “You know, the Queen of Sheba?”

Lenora and Cole both chuckled.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” The youngster certainly had a knack for naming critters.

In no time, Toby finished his pie. More than once, he rubbed his eyes, his dark, tousled hair falling over his forehead. Cole noticed that the boy had failed to get all the grime from behind his ears.

Had Andrew once been like that? In Toby, Cole felt like he was seeing a portion of his little brother’s life that he had missed. An odd longing to see the boy grow up echoed through him.

But Lenora...

The comely brunette reminded him of a path that he had chosen not to pursue so that he could become a lawman. When she laid a gentle hand on her son’s shoulder, Cole couldn’t help his thoughts. What would it feel like to have her caress his shoulder? Or impulsively hug him? When she looked at Cole, her soft smile did something funny to his heart.

He abruptly rose. “Thanks for the pie.”

Two sets of round eyes gazed at him.

Before Lenora asked, he volunteered, “Been a long day. I want to get an early start tomorrow.”

She blinked as though she’d not heard him correctly.

I need to leave.

Forget the ten days he’d promised himself to stay. He should pack up and move on. Regardless of his reasoning though, that would be wrong. Especially since Lenora needed help. But what about the investigation? The accusation pounded him. He should find another spot—less entangling—from which to investigate the Hackett gang.

How could staying and going both be the right thing to do?

“We usually finish the evening off with Bible reading and prayer.” Lenora’s lovely voice soothed his rising tension. “You’re welcome to stay. If you like.”

“Some other time perhaps.” He edged to the door.

“Oh. Cole?”

He was already halfway out when her words stopped him.

“Thank you again for saving Porky.” She smiled as she added, “And Coal.”

He gripped the door so hard his fingers stung. “You’re welcome.” He dragged his gaze away from the endearing scene.

“Good night, Cole,” Toby called. “See ya in the morning.”

With more force than he intended, he shut the door.

As he strode toward the barn, his mission kept pounding in his head. He was there to solve the mystery of the Cheyenne bank robbery, prove Jeb Hackett’s guilt and arrest not only him, but his gang. They had absconded with nearly twenty-one thousand dollars. Not one bill had been recovered.

What would Lenora’s reaction be when she found out who he was and why he was there? Cole slumped down on his bedroll and pulled off his boots. No doubt she would be pleased to see Hackett behind bars. But how would she feel about Cole not telling her he was a US marshal?

She’d think I was a liar. Just like her lying, thieving husband.

Cole pressed his forearm to his eyes as though to blot out his thoughts. Later, he could explain why he didn’t come right out and tell her. The hurt on her face materialized in his imagination.