Come the Spring

  The old homestead had just been treated to a fresh coat of white paint. The trim of the window shutters and the doors was a dark burgundy red. The color matched the lounging chairs scattered about the porch. The pristine house sat back from the white picket fence that surrounded the property, and while that too had recently been painted, tenacious spurs of ivy were already working their way back up the slats.

  Both the house and the rambling lawn in front were shaded by a cluster of ancient walnut trees on either side of the porch. The leafy giant sentinels stood guard over the occupants inside. A faint breeze moved unnoticed through the massive limbs that arched out to one another over the gabled roof.

  Tilly MacGuire’s home was a charming, idyllic place to raise a brood of children, and she had done just that. The spry sixty-five-year-old woman had married at age fourteen, produced eight offspring—all girls—but after her youngest had married and moved away and her third husband had passed on, she converted her six-bedroom home to a boarding facility.

  She didn’t need the money; she needed the companionship. She was a discriminating landlord and chose as boarders only those ladies for whom she felt a kinship. She boasted of being a stickler for rules. Men weren’t allowed above the first floor, no matter what the reason; her ladies had to be home by ten o’clock every night, including Saturday; they must attend church with her on Sunday morning, and none of them could miss supper. Her houseguests put up with the regulations for the simple reason that as long as they followed the rules, they were gloriously pampered. The food was always delicious and plentiful; the bedrooms were spacious and beautifully adorned, and the linens were changed every other day. More important than the luxuries, though, was Tilly herself. She was a sweet-hearted woman who treated her selected guests like long-lost family members.

  If the truth were known, Tilly was also a real softy under her tough, no-nonsense exterior. She had already broken one of her ironclad rules by allowing Jessica and her son to stay with her. Since her own children were grown, Tilly didn’t allow babies or children because of the mess they made, but little Caleb turned out to be her one exception. The toddler, a pistol if ever there was one, stole her heart when he batted his big brown eyes and stuck his tongue out at her.

  She was laughing at the baby’s antics when the marshals knocked on her screen door. Tilly was a little acorn of a woman with sparkling eyes and deepset wrinkles. She was smiling until she spotted their badges. Latching on to Caleb’s hand, she slowly walked to the door.

  “You’re here to question my girls, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am, we are,” Ryan answered.

  Her frown intensified. “They’re both worried and scared, and only just getting over a hard bout of influenza. Poor Jessica was almost well and then suffered a setback. She was throwing up most of Wednesday evening. It’s a shame those girls have got to be scared too. You might as well come on inside. They’re both in the kitchen doing my dishes. I don’t regularly allow houseguests to set foot in the back of my house, but my hired girls are both home sick, and I’m feeling a little puny myself tonight, so I’m breaking my own rule. I can do that,” she hastily added, “because this is my home. Do you want to talk to both of them together? I’ll let you sit at my kitchen table if you do.”

  The freshly scrubbed baby was clutching a rag doll by its hair and looking up at Cole. He pulled his hand free from Tilly’s grasp and put his thumb in his mouth.

  “We’d prefer to talk to each one separately,” Ryan said. “If you wouldn’t mind asking Jessica Summers to come out on the porch, we’ll wait here.”

  “Go find your mama, boy,” she ordered the child.

  The baby pulled his thumb out of his mouth long enough to shout, “No,” then turned around and went running toward the back of the house.

  Tilly grinned. “‘No’ is that baby’s favorite word. He must say it a good hundred times a day. He isn’t sassy or slow-witted, though, just stubborn.”

  She glanced behind her to make certain the baby was out of earshot before she spoke again. “Like I was saying, Jessica and Grace are scared as rabbits, and it’s all because of that rumor someone started, saying one of them was a witness to the murders. It was even written down in the paper. Now, my girls didn’t see anything because they would have told me if they had. I don’t want to be hearing you marshals browbeat them with your questions either. You hear me?”

  “Yes, ma’am, we hear you,” Cole replied.

  “I’ll go get Jessica,” she said. “Then I’m going upstairs with a pot of tea Grace is kindly brewing for me, but I’ll be back down to lock my doors at ten o’clock on the dot. You expect to be finished by then, don’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am, we do,” Ryan answered.

  Tilly wasn’t quite ready to leave. She had something more to say to the marshals, and whenever she wanted to speak her mind, she did exactly that, believing that time was too precious to waste dancing around a sensitive topic.

  “It’s a crying shame the way this town is acting. Just because my girls haven’t been here long, they’re fair targets for every rumor. I feel sorry for poor Rebecca James too. She was feeling just as poorly as my girls. Have you hounded her with questions yet?”

  Ryan didn’t answer. “When did you happen to meet Rebecca?”

  “At church Sunday last,” she answered. “We had us a nice talk after services, and she told me she was considering moving into my house because her hotel room was so cramped. She would have been welcome,” she added. “And I’m persnickety in my old age, but I took to her right away. She’s got a good heart. Why, she was even nice to nasty old Lemont Morganstaff. She made him blush with her compliments about his garden.”

  “How many boarders do you take in?” Cole asked.

  “There’s room for five, but I only have two now. Just Grace and Jessica, and the baby of course.”

  Caleb came running past Tilly, pushed the door open, and scurried outside before she could grab hold of him. The little boy was dressed in a white cotton gown that came down to his ankles. He was barefoot and full of mischief.

  “I’ll let you boys keep an eye on that critter while I hunt Jessica down. Then I’ll take Caleb upstairs because I promised him a story.”

  She was turning away when Cole stopped her with a question. “Ma’am? Where’s the boy’s father?”

  “That’s a good question, and if I were at liberty to talk about it, I’d tell you where I think he is, but I gave my word to Jessica to keep my mouth shut. I can tell you that sweet boy’s mama died giving birth,” she added. “Her husband wasn’t at her side, though. No, sir, he wasn’t.”

  “Jessica isn’t the boy’s mother?” Daniel asked.

  “Caleb thinks she’s his mama because she’s been taking care of him for so long, but she isn’t his blood mother.”

  “Is Caleb’s father dead or alive?” Cole asked.

  “I don’t honestly know,” she answered with a scowl. “But I’m hoping he’s drunk himself to death by now. I’m not going to say another word about him,” she vowed. “You’ll have to ask Jessica for the details.”

  She disappeared into the dining room. Cole and Ryan both turned to look down at the baby. Caleb was standing near the front steps, grinning up at them. All of a sudden he dropped to his knees and crawled backward. He wasn’t housebroken yet, and when he tried to shimmy down the front steps on his belly, the ties on his diaper came loose.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Cole asked as he bent down and picked the baby up in his arms. Ryan grabbed hold of the diaper before it slipped past Caleb’s thighs and quickly retied the straps. Caleb dropped the rag doll and reached for Ryan’s badge.

  “You act like you know what you’re doing,” Cole remarked, ignoring the baby’s squirming and grunting to get down.

  “I’ve had a little experience.”

  “Nieces and nephews?”

  “No. A daughter.” He patted the baby before walking away. “He smells like apples and s
oap. It brings back memories.”

  He crossed the porch and leaned against a post, staring out into the darkness. “I’m tired tonight,” he remarked.

  “I didn’t know you were married.”

  “You never asked.”

  His voice had taken on a hard edge, an unspoken suggestion to let the topic go. Cole was too curious to take the hint. “How long have you been married?”

  “It would have been seven years last month.”

  “Would have been?”

  Ryan nodded. “They’re both dead.”

  Cole’s mind began to race with questions.

  “When did you say you started working on this investigation?”

  “I didn’t say.”

  “Okay, you didn’t tell me. So when did you?”

  “I was appointed to head the special force after one of the robberies.”

  “Quit being so evasive. Tell me which one of the robberies it was.”

  “Dillon,” Ryan answered. “After the robbery at Dillon.”

  “Your hometown.”

  “Yes, my hometown.”

  Silence settled between them as Cole recalled the accounts he had heard of Dillon.

  “Did your wife and daughter get sick?” he finally asked.

  “Stop asking so many questions, Cole.”

  “Did they?” he persisted.

  Ryan shook his head. “No, they didn’t get sick. They were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  Cole let out a long breath. “Ah … hell, Daniel. They’re the ones, aren’t they?”

  Fourteen

  Jessica Summers stood at the kitchen counter and stared out the window, daydreaming. She was trying to recall what it had felt like to be carefree.

  She couldn’t remember.

  She was tired tonight, and surely that was why her burdens and worries seemed so overwhelming to her now. There had been so many changes in her life over the past two years, and lately there were moments when she felt like an old woman.

  This was one of those moments. She wasn’t feeling sorry for herself—there simply wasn’t time in her busy day for such a silly self-indulgence—and as weary as she was, she was still able to thank God for the blessing he had bestowed on her by giving her little Caleb. She couldn’t imagine life without him, as chaotic as it sometimes seemed.

  Forcing herself to get back to the task at hand, she picked up a wet cloth and began to wash one of Tilly’s prize Redbird china plates. Water splashed her skirt. She looked down and noticed for the first time how old and faded the dress was. It didn’t quite fit anymore; the bodice was uncomfortably tight across her chest, but all she had to do was move the buttons, if and when she found the time, and then the dress would be almost as good as new. She certainly wasn’t about to throw it away as Tilly had suggested, because that would be a waste, and she couldn’t afford to waste anything these days. Besides, the dress was serviceable and she was quite fond of the color. Age, wear, and countless washings had turned the bright lavender material a much paler shade. Tilly had told her it looked like an old, used hand-me-down, and Jessica had shrugged indifference. The dress was decent, and that was all that mattered.

  Lord, how her priorities had changed. She remembered another dress she had coveted a lifetime ago when such frivolous things actually mattered to her. She had noticed the dress in a shop window and thought it was the most glorious creation she had ever seen. The gown was white brocade with a wide red velvet sash. Jessica smiled as she recalled how she had vowed to save enough money to one day buy the impractical dress.

  Her dreams were different now, of course. She never thought about suitors or dances or parties any longer. She had been a foolish, empty-headed young girl back then. Now she was an adult with responsibilities. Her only dream was to be the best mother Caleb could ever have.

  Tilly pulled her back to the present with the announcement that the marshals would like to talk to her.

  “They’re waiting on the porch for you,” she said.

  “I’ll go right out,” Jessica promised.

  Five minutes later, she was still standing at the kitchen counter. She knew she was being rude by keeping the marshals waiting, but she was so nervous and frightened, she couldn’t seem to make herself go outside. She delayed the inevitable for as long as possible by insisting on helping her new friend, Grace Winthrop, finish the dishes and put the food away.

  Grace was completely out of place in a kitchen. Jessica didn’t think she had ever been inside one until she moved into Tilly’s boardinghouse, but what she lacked in experience she made up for with her enthusiasm. She was determined to learn how to cook a decent meal, and there wasn’t any chore beneath her. Yesterday she had taken off her gloves and hat, put on one of Tilly’s old aprons, and got down on her hands and knees to scrub the floor. It had taken her twice as long as it would have taken Jessica, but when she was finished, the wood had a nice shine.

  The two women had become good friends. Each was lost in her own thoughts as they worked side by side.

  “I’m scared,” Jessica whispered. “I don’t want to talk to them.”

  “I’m scared too,” Grace admitted. “After they finish questioning you, they’ll probably want to talk to me. Maybe Tilly could convince them to come back tomorrow.”

  Jessica shook her head. “Then I’d worry all night. I want to get it over and done with now. Otherwise I won’t sleep.”

  “Have you thought about my proposition? Mr. Nelson needs to know if I’m going to purchase his wagon or not. I promised to let him know in the morning. He let me drive it over here,” she added.

  “I know,” Jessica whispered back. “I can see it in the field behind the yard from my window. Yes, I have made up my mind. If you’re sure we won’t be a burden, Caleb and I would love to go with you.”

  Grace let out a sigh. “I’m so thankful,” she said. “Of course you won’t be a burden. I’ll admit now I don’t think I could manage the horses without help.”

  “We’ll manage together,” Jessica promised.

  Tilly came back to the kitchen to find out why Jessica was taking so long and decided it was up to her to give her a little nudge.

  “They aren’t going to go away, girl,” she began. “You might as well get on out there and talk to them, and while you’re answering their questions, you might want to take the time to notice what fine-looking men the marshals are. It’s been a long while since I’ve seen such big, masculine men. They might give you a scare at first sight, seeing as how they’re both so rugged looking, but if you’ll look in their eyes, you’ll see the kindness there and you’ll get over your shivers then. Both of those boys have real pretty blue eyes.”

  Jessica forced a smile in an attempt to hide her nervousness. “Why would I want to notice how fine looking they are?”

  Exasperated, Tilly put her hands on her hips and made a tisking sound. “Because now you have that little bit of a boy to see raised and it wouldn’t hurt you to have a strong man helping.”

  Jessica folded the damp cloth and put it down on the countertop. “I know you mean well, but I don’t need a man to help me raise Caleb. We’re doing just fine the way we are.”

  “Hogwash,” Tilly said. “I know you’ve got the spirit and the heart to do right by that baby, but a man could ease the burden. That’s all I’m saying. If I were forty years younger, I’d go after one of them myself. I’d have a devil of a time deciding which one I wanted to put his shoes under my bed, though. All I’m suggesting is that you notice, Jessica, and I want you to notice too, Grace, because a good man would be the answer to your family’s prayers. Jessica, take that ribbon out of your hair. It’s lopsided.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jessica replied. She pulled the ribbon out and quickly threaded her fingers through her curly brown tresses. She wasn’t trying to make herself attractive. She was simply placating Tilly.

  “You’ve got such pretty hair, Jessica. You should show it off, and it wouldn’t kill you to do a lit
tle flirting while you’re talking to them. I bet you don’t even know how. You ought to try, though. Oh, I know it’s a serious matter they’re here to discuss, but they’re men first and always, and they’ll notice both of you. Grace, while you’re waiting your turn, you can take all those pins out of your hair and give it a good brushing. Men like women to wear their hair down, not pinned up like an old schoolmarm.”

  Jessica and Grace had learned that it was pointless to argue. Tilly was in one of her stubborn, I-know-what’s-best moods. Grace was smiling at Tilly, but Jessica noticed her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.

  “I guess I should go on out,” Jessica said.

  “I guess you’d better,” Tilly agreed. “I’ll take the baby upstairs as soon as I find him.”

  “You don’t feel well tonight, Tilly. Go on up and get in bed. I’ll take care of Caleb.”

  “I’ll brew your tea for you and bring it right up,” Grace added. “Jessica, Caleb can stay in the kitchen with me. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

  Jessica took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Lord, I wish I weren’t so nervous.”

  Grace nodded. “I feel like I’ve done something wrong, but I haven’t. Oh, I wish I’d never come to this town. I had such grand hopes…”

  “I know you did,” Jessica said. “But it was wrong of Mr. Wells’s son not to honor his father’s promise. He should have sold you the grazing land as his father had agreed. A man’s word is supposed to be sacred.”

  “The younger Mr. Wells doesn’t know that,” Grace said.

  “You’re going to find your ranch,” Jessica promised. “We’ll look at the property near Denver first, and if it isn’t exactly what you want, I’ve heard there’s lush grazing land to be found in California.”

  “There’s so much to be done, and time’s running out. I only have seven months left to purchase the land and buy the cattle, or I must admit defeat and go back home. If I hadn’t wasted so much time here, I could be in Denver by now.”