Come the Spring (14 page)

“I haven't done anything wrong.”

Daniel nodded. “We know you haven't. Lawmen make people jumpy. I'm not sure why.”

“I know why,” she replied. “You have the power to lock me in jail,” she explained.

“Not without a good legal reason,” he countered.

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? I was locked in jail this afternoon, and there certainly wasn't a good legal reason then.”

“We didn't know Sheriff Sloan would go to such lengths,” Cole interjected.

“He was convinced one of us was lying, but that still isn't a good reason to lock someone in jail, is it?” She noticed Daniel remove a notepad and pencil from his pocket and gave him her full attention.

“We know you were in the bank the day it was robbed,” he began.

“Yes, I was. Caleb was with me.”

“Do you happen to remember what time it was?” She smoothed the wrinkles out of her skirt as she answered, her gaze directed on her lap. “As a matter of fact, I do remember. I was there at two o'clock, give or take ten minutes. I went inside and got into line, but I didn't happen to notice any of the other people there. I wasn't…”

“Paying attention?” Cole asked.

“Yes, that's it,” she said. “I wasn't paying attention to anyone else.”

“You didn't notice anyone in line with you?” Ryan asked with a hint of skepticism.

“I was very busy looking after Caleb. He can be quite mischievous. The gate fascinated him, and he kept trying to swing on it. Mr. MacCorkle became very upset and yelled at the baby. He made quite a scene. I had my hands full, Marshal, and I simply didn't have time to notice anyone else.”

While she'd been explaining, she kept glancing up at Cole to get his reaction. He had to know she was nervous because of the way she had rushed through her answer.
Slow down,
she told herself, as she gripped her hands together.
Slow down and calm down, or they'll both think I'm hiding something.

Cole didn't look as if he thought she was guilty of anything. If she had had to venture a guess, she would
have said that the routine questions were putting him to sleep.

She turned back to her inquisitor. “I'm sorry I can't be more helpful.”

“Don't babies take naps in the afternoon?” Cole asked. “My little sister always did.”

“Yes, Caleb usually takes his nap right after his noon meal, but his schedule has gotten all turned around lately. I was sick with influenza, and because he sleeps in my bedroom, I kept waking him up all night. He slept late today and then had a late nap. That's why he's still running around now.” She was rambling like an idiot, she realized, and giving them far too much useless and boring information.

“Did Sheriff Sloan show you the bag we found?”

“Yes, he did,” she answered. “He told us he found it under one of the desks. It doesn't belong to me,” she added emphatically. “I never carry a bag.”

Ryan flipped his notepad shut and put it back in his pocket with his pencil. She noticed he hadn't written a single word.

“Are you positive about the time?” Cole asked. “You're sure you were in the bank at two?” Ryan asked.

“Give or take ten minutes,” she answered.

The marshals exchanged a look. Ryan rubbed the back of his neck.

“Do you have any plans to leave Rockford Falls?” he asked.

“Yes, I'm planning to leave as soon as possible. Caleb and I leave tomorrow as a matter of fact. I'll miss Tilly, but I'll be glad to get away from this town. Ever since the rumors started, I've been very concerned that the men who killed those poor innocent people will come back here. They might believe that one of us saw them, and I'm sure you know what has happened to the witnesses of the other robberies.”

“Yeah, we know,” Cole said.

“Where are you headed?” Cole asked.

“Colorado,” she answered.

Any further information she might have wanted to add was forgotten when Caleb came running out on the porch. The baby spotted his rag doll by the steps and snatched it up by one of its feet. Strutting over to Cole, he leaned against his leg and grinned up at him.

Jessica wasn't surprised. Caleb was always initially shy around strangers, but it never took him long to get over it. He liked men. She thought their size and voices fascinated him.

“It's time for you to go to bed, Caleb,” she said, her voice a soothing whisper.

Shaking his head, Caleb pulled his thumb from his mouth long enough to put his arms up to Cole and let out a loud grunt to be picked up. When he spied his mother advancing, he dropped his doll to the floor, threw his arms around Cole's neck, and held on for dear life.

“I don't think this boy wants to go to bed just yet,” Cole remarked.

She stood close to Cole and tried to peel her son's hands away from his neck, but she wasn't paying much attention to what she was doing. Tilly was right. The marshal did have beautiful eyes. She wished the dear woman hadn't made such a fuss over the lawmen's appearance because now all Jessica could think about was how fit the two of them were. If Tilly hadn't pointed it out, she surely wouldn't have noticed.

She wasn't in the market for a husband. The reminder helped her concentrate on the task at hand.

“Caleb always goes right to sleep as soon as I tuck him in with his baby doll,” she explained. “He's going through a difficult phase and seems to think he has to throw a tantrum at bedtime. He's a very good boy, though. Aren't you, Caleb?”

The baby nodded against Cole's neck. Cole stared at Jessica with a look of amusement in his eyes. She
wondered if he knew he was making her uncomfortable. She thought that maybe he did, and, oh, how could she have ever thought him menacing? His hands were big, yet so very gentle as he patted Caleb's back in a circular, rhythmic motion. Caleb rubbed his tiny fist against his nose as he nestled his head under Cole's chin. The child looked blissful.

“You're very good with babies,” she remarked.

“Mrs. Summers? Would you mind asking Grace Winthrop to come out on the porch?”

The intrusion of Marshal Ryan's voice startled her. “Yes, of course,” she stammered.

“Is it Mrs. Summers?” Cole asked her. “Or Miss?”

“It's Jessica,” she answered as she turned away. “Grace is in the kitchen. If you like, you could go on in and sit at the table while you question her.”

“That would be fine,” Daniel answered. He moved ahead to open the door for her, and Cole followed behind with Caleb. He transferred the sleepy baby to Jessica's arms when they reached the stairs.

“The kitchen's at the end of the hallway,” she said.

While Daniel went on ahead, Cole stood in the entry and watched Jessica go up the steps. He liked the way she moved. It was sexy and feminine, and very alluring. He liked her voice too. It was a rich, husky bedroom voice.

He told himself it was all right to notice how good she looked and sounded. There wasn't any harm in appreciating such an attractive woman. It certainly didn't mean he was going to get involved with her. He was a lawman now, and that probably meant that he couldn't and shouldn't dally with a potential witness. It just wouldn't be right. Besides, Jessica Summers came with strings attached. She was carrying one of them up to bed. Any man who became involved with her would have to make a lifetime commitment. Forever. The notion didn't sit well with him. He liked to move around, and no one was going to tie him
down. She was also innocent, and he had adopted a hands-off policy with inexperienced women. Their expectations were different. Jessica was definitely the marrying kind. He wasn't.

It was as simple as that.

“Cole, you coming?”

With a nod, he caught up with Daniel at the end of the hallway. “What was that all about?” Daniel whispered with a nod toward the entry.

Cole knew what he was asking. He shrugged in response. “Just noticing. That's all.”

Fifteen
 

Grace Winthrop was standing at the stove. She turned when they entered the kitchen. Daniel stopped cold, then took an involuntary step back, bumping Cole.

He quickly recovered. “Jessica didn't think you would mind if we…”

“Oh, please come in,” she said. “I'm brewing tea Would you and Marshal Clayborne like a cup?”

“That sounds fine,” Daniel said, pulling out a chair at the table. Cole took the seat across from him, facing the door.

“Have you gentlemen had your supper yet?” she asked.

“No, ma'am, we haven't,” Cole answered.

“We aren't hungry,” Daniel said at the same time.

“Yes, we are,” Cole argued.

Grace went to the counter and returned with a plate of leftover ham. She placed it on the table next to a basket of freshly baked bread and a crock of butter. A minute later she'd added plates and utensils.

Cole helped himself. Daniel didn't touch the food. He kept his attention focused on Grace, who was nervously brushing her hands down her apron. She wouldn't, or couldn't, look him in the eyes. The teacups rattled in the saucers as she placed them on the table. She poured a thick, black liquid into each cup that looked more like shoe polish than tea.

“Would you like sugar and cream?” she asked. Cole was looking suspiciously at his cup, but Daniel was still looking at Grace.

“Is this tea?” Cole asked.

“Yes,” she rushed out. “Is something wrong with it?”

“No, no, I'm sure it's fine.”

He took a drink and couldn't hide his reaction. It tasted like bitter hair tonic.

“It just needs a little sugar,” he lied.

“I boiled it too long, didn't I?” she asked. “That's what I did. I should have timed it. I'll make another pot right away.”

“I'd rather have water,” Cole said.

Daniel was trying not to smile. He didn't want to embarrass her any more than she already was, for she had seen the grimace Cole made when he tasted her tea, and if Daniel laughed, her discomfort would only intensify.

“I don't think you're supposed to boil the tea leaves,” he told her.

With a gesture he found utterly feminine, she brushed her dark curls back over her shoulder. “Cooking is far more difficult than one would ever imagine,” she remarked.

“Who did all the cooking in your home?” Cole asked.

She seemed surprised by the question. “The cook did the cooking,” she answered. “And her assistants, of course. Sometimes the downstairs maids helped. At
least I believe they did. Would you like some sliced pickles, Marshal Clayborne? They're quite good.”

“That would be nice,” he answered. “Please call me Cole and call him Daniel,” he added with a nod toward Ryan.

“Then you must call me Grace. I insist.”

She proceeded to slice the pickle with a sharp butcher knife, pulling the sharp blade toward her wrist. The action drove Daniel crazy. He reached out and grabbed hold of both of her hands.

“Always cut with the blade angled away from you,” he instructed. “Like this.” He slowly glided the knife through the pickle toward the plate. “It's safer that way.”

When he didn't let go of her right away, she stared down at his big hands and simply waited. “Thank you, Daniel. I'll try to remember next time.”

He noticed the number of cuts on her fingers. “You aren't used to kitchen work, are you?” he asked as he let go and leaned back in his chair.

“No, but I'm learning.”

She once again bent over the pickle with her knife. Wrinkling her nose and biting her lower lip in concentration, she cautiously sawed at it until there were half a dozen thin slices neatly arranged on the plate. Then, with a triumphant smile, she washed her hands and set her achievement before them.

Ryan couldn't take his eyes off her, so completely fascinated was he by this delicate woman. Even though she was unskilled and totally out of place, she was not deterred, nor even discouraged.

He had to force himself to get on with the business at hand. Pulling his notepad out of his pocket, he put it on the table and reached for his pencil. “Why don't we get started,” he began.

“Yes, of course,” she agreed.

“About what time were you in the bank on the day of the robbery?”

She stared at the tabletop when she answered. “I was there at two o'clock, give or take ten minutes.”

Cole was about to take a bite of his sandwich when she gave her answer. He put the food back on the plate and shot a glance at Daniel to judge his reaction.

“You're sure it was two o'clock?” Daniel asked, sounding only mildly curious.

“Yes, I'm sure. I noticed the time while I was waiting my turn in line. There's a large clock on the wall behind the tellers' windows.”

“Did you notice any of the other people in line?” Cole asked.

She pondered the question for a long moment, and then shook her head. “Actually, no, I didn't notice anyone else. I wasn't paying much attention.”