Julie Garwood - Come the Spring

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 adifficult 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." c Li arace 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.