Chapter Six

      As he relaxed in his chair after the meal, Cole watched Lenora and Toby. With supper bedded down, he felt no hurry to follow suit.

      “Okay, young man.” She smiled at her son. “You are done with arithmetic for the night.”

      “Hurray.” Toby stood up to gather his slate.

      “But not with your spelling.”

      With a groan, he slumped.

      Trying to squelch his amusement, Cole slouched in a chair, one foot extended in front of him. Lenora gave her son a list of words. Jamming the heel of his hand against his forehead, Toby sighed. He bent over his work, mouth puckered in frustration.

      Just like me when I was his age.

      “That is misspelled.” She pointed to his slate. “What is the rule about I and E?”

      “I don’t know.” Her son’s tone betrayed his exasperation.

      Lenora’s eyebrows rose as she waited.

      “Is that the ‘I before E, except after C’ rule?” Cole volunteered.

      She threw him a mock glare. “Shh. No helping.”

      “You did. A couple times already.”

      “That’s because I’m the teacher.” She turned back to Toby. “A few more words and we’ll have dessert.”

      “Are we having p-e-i?” Cole inserted.

      Lenora swiveled, jaw thrust in mock irritation. “Keep that up, mister, and you won’t get any.”

      Grinning, Toby’s eyes met Cole’s.

      “Good, because I’d rather have p-i-e.” He rose to pour himself another cup of coffee. That also gave him an excuse to look at the pastry, cooling on the sideboard. Though Lenora had fussed that the dessert was practically ruined, it still looked good enough to eat. What had Toby said about her pies? They were fearsome?

      Cole would soon find out. Turning, he leaned against the sideboard as he watched mother and son. What a pair they made.

      A memory—of his ma and Andrew—flashed through his mind. His brother had been working on spelling too. Because they had relocated so much, Ma always had them do their book learning at home. And she was a strict teacher. This one time, Andrew had squawked about how unfair it was that Cole didn’t have to do spelling anymore. Their mother explained that was because he was three years older. And soon enough he would be doing his own work.

      Then Cole remembered. That was the night before Andrew died.

      Lenora’s eyes met his. “Having second thoughts?”

      “S’cuse me?” He straightened with a jerk. It wasn’t often he allowed himself the luxury of losing himself in memories.

      “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.