The Marshal's Mission. Anna Zogg
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face lit up. “Sure.” He sat nearby. A crooked grin tugged at one corner of his mouth. “If we run out, I know where to get more.”
Cole found himself grinning, as well. “Good. I’m hungrier than a hibernating bear.” Chopping wood had fired his appetite. Or perhaps his temper because Lenora had been so cold?
Blister sat on his haunches nearby. Tongue lolling, he was already salivating for handouts.
Lenora had sent her son with a generous portion of beans. With the pan between them, they used the accompanying biscuits to scoop up the juices. Blister whimpered and pawed the air when Toby ignored him too long.
“Sorry, boy.” He broke off a morsel and dabbed it in the mix before feeding his dog. “But that’s it.”
He gulped down the offering, then panted for more.
“No, go lay down.” The boy frowned at his pet. “That’s all you’re getting.”
After one grumble, the dog slumped onto his belly. However, his eyes continued to follow the boy’s every move.
Cole grinned, glad that the dog was well loved. And trained.
Worry lines marking his forehead, Toby ate slowly. “Cole?” When he looked up, the boy continued. “You mad at Ma?”
His frankness took him aback. “Nope.”
The boy licked his lips before continuing. “You say something to make her mad?”
His and Lenora’s showdown in the morning flashed through his mind. That was done and settled, right? “Not that I know of.”
Toby scrubbed a fist across the top of his head, a habit when he seemed puzzled. “I don’t get why Ma is mad now.” Food forgotten, he stared at nothing.
“Maybe she’s just scared.” The words surprised Cole.
A long-forgotten memory of his parents arguing came back to him. It had been late, and Cole was supposed to be asleep. Was he nine? Ten? He had crept partway down the stairs and listened to his mother accuse his father of uprooting their family because he would never be satisfied with their location.
When Cole had later asked his father about it, that’s how he had answered—Ma was scared. Now as Cole looked back, he understood why. Pa’s kind of discontent unsettled a woman.
An inevitable and more recent recollection followed. The last time Cole had seen his mother, she had accused him of that very thing—restlessness. Only he wasn’t looking for the perfect place to settle like his pa, but of trying to right the world of all its problems when that was none of his business.
“What’s Ma scared of?” Toby’s green eyes met his steadily.
“Not rightly certain.” Finished with his food, Cole brushed off his hands. “Your pa’s gone now. Maybe she’s worried about how she will take care of you and the ranch. All by herself.”
“But I can help.”
“Yes, and you do. But she’s facing some adult-sized chores. I know your ma’s tough, but I think she’s scared about getting it all done.”
Half-eaten biscuit still in his hands, the boy seemed to ponder. “Do you reckon that’s why she cries?”
Cole scratched his chin.
“I heard her last night. She didn’t cry much though. Not like before.” Toby’s frown deepened. “When Pa was alive, she used to cry a lot. I reckon she was really scared, huh?”
At a loss how to answer, Cole said nothing. How much did Toby know about his father? No doubt how the boy felt about Hackett. From inside the barn, Cole had witnessed hostility in Toby’s stance and tone of voice. But why such animosity toward the outlaw? Especially if Amos Pritchard and Hackett were so close?
“Toby.” Lenora’s voice reached them inside the building.
He ran to the door. “Be there in a sec, Ma.” Toby shoved the rest of his food into his mouth while Cole gathered the towel and empty dish.
“Oh, let me get your pa’s gun too.” Earlier, he had taken time to show Toby the proper way to disassemble it for cleaning. However, the work on the chicken coop had interrupted them. “Give me a second, and you can take it up to the house.” He quickly put the pieces back together.
The boy took the gun. “Can I ask you something, Cole?”
He grinned. “Sure.” Toby was an endless well of questions.
“You believe in God, right?”
“Of course.”
The youngster took a deep breath, face twisted in thought—another habit Cole had begun to notice. “I prayed that God would send someone to help Ma.” He squinted up at Cole. “Do you think God sent you?”
Cole straightened with a jerk. Hadn’t he himself wondered about God moving mountains? Only that morning?
“Can anyone know for certain the way God works?” He answered slowly, reluctant to agree but not willing to deflate the boy’s faith.
Toby hung his head, but it wasn’t in defeat. “If it ain’t you, I guess I need to keep praying.” Without another word, he turned on his heel.
For many minutes, Cole remained rooted in one spot. A dislike—of being dismissed—grated on him. Especially since Toby had unwittingly done it. The meaning seemed clear—if Cole wasn’t the answer to the boy’s prayer, then someone else would be.
Dismissed.
Toby wasn’t the only one. Earlier, Lenora had done that very thing. And Cole had no doubts which way she leaned. She wanted him to clear out. The sooner, the better.
Because she was hiding something?
His gut told him no. Over his career, not many fooled him. He saw no deceit in Lenora Pritchard’s deep brown eyes and clear forehead. How had she remained untainted by her outlaw husband? She was a delicate rose in a weed patch.
Maybe he should leave her in peace. She had enough to worry about. He didn’t need to add to it.
“Maybe she’s scared.” His own words pounded against him as dusk descended on the land. It didn’t take all his book learning to see that she had fallen behind with ranch work. Likely that would continue until she ended up clearing out. Then what would happen to her and Toby?
“It’s not my business.” The argument rose and escaped his lips as he stretched himself on his bedroll. But even as he spoke, the callousness grated on his soul. She was a woman in need. And he couldn’t call himself a man if he tucked his tail and slunk off just because she was slightly hostile.
Very well, he’d stay. Whether Lenora liked it or not. The only way she would force him to leave was if she stuck the rifle’s barrel in his chest and demanded he get off her land.
Why was Cole still there? Lenora leaned forward to peer out the window as the sun peaked in the afternoon sky. With the barn door open, he leaned a hand on the doorjamb chatting with her son. Hadn’t she made it clear that she did not want him around?
She had purposed to not invite him for breakfast—and hadn’t allowed Toby to either. However, she later saw Cole down by the corral, fixing a wobbly fence post. When he replaced the broken post on the chicken coop, she waffled between being annoyed and grateful.
Why hadn’t the man gotten the message?
Clearly ecstatic, Toby bubbled with enthusiasm as he explained how Cole had replaced the board without disturbing the chickens. That morning, the hens had laid two extra eggs, proof that their visitor had sweet-talked them.
Lenora tended to believe it had more to do with all the