Chapter Seven
An Evening Out
Maize’s Café
Cole helped Jillian Carson from the buggy and assisted her to the walkway right outside the café before circling the buggy to offer Eliza his hand.
“I’m so pleased you ladies accepted my invitation.”
“How could we refuse?” Eliza responded. “Given you wouldn’t leave my shop… so I could work… until I agreed, and we’d set a day.”
“I am nothing if not persistent,” he touted.
“You mean, you were a pest. Not quite the same thing,” she countered.
“Come on you two,” Jillian ordered. “It’s as cold as the dickens out here.”
Cole did his best to tamp down his urge to laugh. Gathering Eliza’s elbow in his grasp, he steered her toward her grandmother. “We’re coming, Miss Jillian.”
Once they were seated, the waitress brought them a pot of tea. As soon as she reviewed the daily specials and took their orders, Cole leaned back in his seat and asked, “Are you enjoying your visit home, Miss Eliza?”
“I am,” she confirmed. “I’d forgotten how warm and welcoming a small town can be. Like you, growing up, all I wanted was to escape.” She paused, then added, “I must admit I was surprised by how much the town has grown.”
“Not just grown,” Gram commented, “but improved. First, we got indoor plumbing and boilers to heat our water, then electricity. Once the train ran their tracks through, we got our first telephone lines along Main Street.”
“According to the Colorado Telephone Company officials, we should be getting residential lines to all homes within a half mile of town,” Cole told them. “That’ll include you, Miss Jillian, if you’re interested.”
“Oh, I’m interested,” Jillian confirmed. “One day, I’ve no doubt we’ll be able to call anywhere within the country. I need to be able to talk to Eliza, no matter where she ends up.”
Cole drew a breath and asked the one question that had been weighing on his thoughts for the past few weeks. “Miss Eliza, have you decided on how much longer you’ll be staying?”
“I’m weighing my options, at the moment,” she admitted. “Theater season doesn’t start up again in New York until April. California is also possible, but I really hate the thought of starting over in a city where I don’t know anyone.”
“California would be closer,” he pointed out. “You know, in case your grandmother needed you again.”
Their food arrived, stalling any further conversation until they’d said the blessing and had at least a few bites of their meals. Laying her fork aside, Jillian asked, “What about you, Cole? Are you happy to be back in Big Bend?”
“To be honest, I wasn’t sure about coming home when they first offered me the posting. After my pa died, I didn’t expect to ever return. Now that I’m here though, I can’t imagine being anywhere else. I honestly believe this is where the Almighty wanted me all along.”
“Amen to that, Cole,” Jillian said.
Eliza shifted her attention in his direction and offered him one of her heart-stopping smiles. “I’ve been meaning to ask,” she began. “Why did they send a marshal? Your father spent years as our sheriff. When he passed, the fellow who took his place was a sheriff. Neither of them had a deputy, that I can recall. Isn’t a U.S. Marshal a bit overqualified for a small town? Even one that’s expanded as much as Big Bend.”
“On the contrary, the expansion is exactly what brought me here,” he explained. “Once the railroad came through, the marshal service was called in to assess whether or not this would be a safe route for mail, banking, and even transporting metals like gold and silver. Because the mail falls under the state’s jurisdiction, it requires the state’s protection.” He shrugged, and added, “Hence, Big Bend gets a marshal, and a deputy.”
Jillian hid a soft laugh behind her napkin. “Your pa refused to hire a deputy, even as he was getting older.”
“He was a stubborn cuss,” Cole admitted. “He once said if he ever faced any real trouble, he’d just deputize the entire town and put them to work.”
“When we were growing up,” Eliza reminded them, “the town wasn’t big enough, or important enough, to have any real trouble… other than from you and the Stout brothers.”
“Oh, pish tosh,” Jillian insisted. “Charlie and Ronnie have turned into fine men. You too, Cole. Your pa would be real proud.”
“Thank you, Miss Jillian,” he said humbly. “I appreciate that.”
They were halfway through their dessert when the café door opened and Ronnie and Millie Stout came in, along with Berta and Nicky. Cole gave his good friend a quick wave. Almost immediately, little Berta came running to the table. He held out his arms to welcome her. Yet rather than come to his side, the tiny little bundle of energy ran straight to Eliza.
“Miss Eliza, Miss Eliza,” Berta shouted. “I did what you said and got that book at the library. I can’t wait to read it.”
“I’m so happy they had it,” Eliza responded. “ The Adventures of Mabel is one of my favorites.”
“Is there really a lizard king?” Berta asked.
“You bet,” Eliza confirmed. “And fairies.”
Almost as an afterthought, Berta spun around and faced Cole. “Hey, Marshal. My papa says you’re going to get a new horse.”
“I am. A mare,” Cole confirmed. “Once she arrives, you’ll have to take her for a ride.”
“Why don’t we make room for the Stout family?” Jillian suggested. “We can push the tables together.”
“Goodie,” Berta said, plunking herself down at Eliza’s side. “Thank you, Miss Jillian.”
“You’re welcome, Bertie Bird,” Jillian told her.
Unusual for a Wednesday evening, the café filled up quickly. Any thought he’d had of a quiet evening in Eliza and Miss Jillian’s company dwindled each time the door opened. The Stouts, Reverend and Misses Peterson, Miss Amanda, Leo and Gertrude Durgin. The hairs on the back of Cole’s neck stood at attention, confirming what he already knew. He and Eliza were about to become the subject of the town’s gossip mill.
Surprisingly, he found he didn’t mind in the least.
Home for the Night
Eliza pulled the buggy to a stop at the foot of the back steps. Cole had insisted on following them home to make sure they arrived safely. She was about to step down to the ground when he appeared at her side.
“May I offer my assistance?”
She nodded and put her hand in his. Her fingertips tingled where they touched his warm, work-hardened palm. “Thank you,” she said once her feet hit the dirt.
“I’ll help Miss Jillian to the door, then see to the horses for you,” he told her.
She was about to say their neighbor would make his evening rounds soon enough, when Gram spoke up, “I’d appreciate your help, Cole. As I’m sure Eliza does, as well.”
“It’s my pleasure, Miss Jillian,” he said as they reached the porch.
Eliza sidled up to Gram’s side and laid her hand against her grandmother’s arm. The two of them watched as Cole led the horse and buggy toward their small barn.
“No Mister Hastings this evening?” Eliza asked.
“I’m sure he’ll stop by later to check on whether I need his help or not,” Gram confirmed. “However, there’s no reason we can’t take advantage of our big, strong marshal’s help.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“What I am,” Gram countered, “is cold. I’m going inside. You wait here for Cole to finish. Don’t forget to invite him to Christmas dinner.”
“I’d intended to ask at the café,” Eliza explained. “But, given the large crowd, I changed my mind.”
“I figured as much. Our holiday invitations are nobody’s business but our own,” Gram acknowledged just as she shut the door between them.
Eliza drew her heavy cloak more tightly around her shoulders and stuffed her hands in the slotted pockets. Cole was taking forever. Or, at least, it felt that way every time the wind blew. Tethered to the fence, Cole’s handsome gelding, Storm, nickered and cantered to the side.
“I hear you, big boy,” Eliza told the animal. “There’s surely another inch or two of snow in the air.”
“Are you flirting with my horse?” Cole asked sarcastically, stepping out of the shadows to come to a stop at the foot of the steps.
The porch light shone on his handsome face, making her pulse race. “Not flirting, just talking. He seems like an intelligent animal. Why not?”
“He is a smart one, that’s for sure. Your buggy’s in the first stall, your mare in the second. I brushed her down and gave her fresh water and feed.”
“She needs a blanket. I should go—”
“I did that too,” he confirmed.
“Thank you, Cole.” Drawing a breath, she blurted out, “Would you like to join Gram and me for Christmas dinner?”
The corner of his full lips lifted in a smile. “Are you cooking?”
Eliza pulled her hands from her pockets and as was her habit, anchored them firmly on her hips. “I’ll have you know, I’m a good cook. Or, at least, I used to be. I’m sure I can put together a decent enough spread.”
“Well then, I’d be honored to join you and Miss Jillian for your holiday meal.”
“Great,” she said, backpedaling toward the door. “In case I don’t see you before then, we usually eat early on Christmas. Three o’clock, if that’s all right with your duties in town.”
“I’ll be sure to make myself available.”
She nodded and reached for the door handle. “Thank you, again, for the lovely meal and for taking care of the buggy and mare.”
“You’re welcome.” He hoisted himself up onto Storm’s saddle, and told her, “I’ll make a quick stop at Hastings' place and save him his nightly trip over to check on you.”
“You know about that?”
“It’s my town, Eliza. My responsibility. There’s not much that gets by me.”
She pushed the door open before saying, “Good night, Marshal.”
“Good night, Eliza Carson.”
By the time she reached the parlor, she was surprised to see Gram had already changed into her night clothes and was seated in her favorite chair. Her knitting basket sat at her feet.
“How are Cole’s wool socks coming along?” she teased.
Gram held up what appeared to be a half a sock. “They’re doing quite nicely.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mind your manners. This is the second sock. It’ll be done in plenty of time.”
“Would you like something to eat or drink before bed?”
“Only if you’re making something for yourself,” Gram told her.
“Actually, I’m thinking of heading to bed. It’s been a busy day.”
“I won’t be long myself. I want to do another two or three rows of gray before I turn in.”
Eliza gathered up a couple of logs and laid them gently in the parlor fireplace. “Goodnight Gram.”
“Goodnight, Buttercup. Sweet dreams.”
Sweet dreams ? Given that the only thing invading her sleep of late was Cole’s smile, his broad shoulders, and how absolutely commanding he looked atop his horse, she wasn’t sure ‘ sweet ’ was the right word.