Authors: Penny Richards
After several long seconds, Colt calmed himself and searched his mind for something to say. Miss Grainger, too, appeared to gather her emotions. Her chest rose in a deep sigh and she seemed to shake off her melancholy, looking up at him with renewed determination. “I daresay if we both work hard at it, together we can help him.”
Colt doubted it, but it wouldn't hurt to try to appease her, since she did seem upset by the whole affair. Besides, Homer had given them an ultimatum. “Maybe you're right.”
“Thank you for Cilla and Brady's apologies. I believe that was the right thing to do.”
“You're welcome.”
Silence reigned in the small room until she said, “Have you tried to find out what's at the root of their behavior?”
“In fact, I did,” he told her. “I was a little surprised at what they had to say.”
She raised her eyebrows in question.
“Brady told me he was tired of disappointing everyone all the time. He also said that it's embarrassing when you make mention of him having the wrong answer in front of the class.”
Miss Grainger looked shocked. “It was never my intent to humiliate anyone. I just try to point out the error and offer to help them after class. I'll try to figure out another way to...soften things.”
“I'm sure he'll appreciate that,” Colt said. He looked straight into her eyes. “And I promise I'll work with him for thirty minutes or so every evening. I'm not sure I can do more than that. It's frustrating and stressful for us both.”
A tight smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Believe me, Sheriff Garrett, I understand only too well, and I can assure you that my frustration equals, if not surpasses, yours.
“For my part I promise to investigate every new teaching technique available. There is always some educator coming up with new and different methods of instruction. Some are better than others, but it won't hurt to try a few of them.” The sound of her stomach growling punctuated the statement. Her freckled face flushed deep red.
“Look, I was up half the night,” he told her, not offering any reason why. She'd never know he hadn't slept for thinking of their argument and...her. Frowning, he scrubbed a palm over his bristly cheek. “When Danny came to get me, I didn't even have time to shave much less have a cup of coffee. Would you mind if we continued this conversation at Ellie's?”
An expression of pure panic flitted over her face.
“Please,” he coaxed. “Let me treat you to breakfast. I'll be able to think much better once I have some coffee, and I think your stomach will agree that a plate of ham and eggs wouldn't come amiss.”
He accompanied the request with a stiff smile. If possible, she looked even more flustered. He could see in her eyes that she was about to refuse.
“Look, Miss Grainger, I'm doing my best to make up for yesterday,” he said in his most persuasive tone. “How about meeting me halfway?”
After regarding him with a solemn expression for long moments, she rose. “Well, then, since you put it that way, I accept. We really
must
reach some agreement about the children.”
* * *
The instant she and the sheriff walked through the door of the café, all eyes turned their way. Allison heard the murmurs of conjecture sweep through the crowd. Grasping her elbow, he ushered her to a table and pulled out her chair, the epitome of a Southern gentleman.
Ellie approached carrying two mugs of steaming coffee. “Straight from the pot for Allison,” she said, setting the cup down in front of her and pressing a sisterly kiss to her cheek. “The usual, Colt?” Ellie asked.
“Yep. And thanks for bringing the coffee right over. I needed it.”
“I could tell,” Ellie said with a slight smile.
Allison watched wide-eyed as he added a generous amount of cream and two heaping spoonfuls of sugar. If she used cream and sugar in every cup of coffee or tea she drank, she would soon be waddling, but the sheriff's lean, muscled body didn't appear to have an extra ounce of fat anywhere.
“Allison? What for you?”
“Just a piece of toasted bread and an egg, please.”
“That's it?” Colt asked.
“No sense arguing with her,” Ellie said. “It's what she usually has.”
Allison felt decidedly uncomfortable at being the topic of conversation. Heaven knewâeveryone knewâthat she didn't need a full breakfast.
His shoulders lifted in a shrug of disbelief. “Bring the lady some toast and an egg.”
“Got it,” Ellie said, and walked away, her slim hips swaying.
Colt sighed.
“She's lovely, isn't she?” Allison's tone was wistful.
“She is.”
His agreement brought a lump to her throat. Well, she had asked, and there was no denying the obvious. “And just as beautiful on the inside.”
It was the sheriff's turn to look uncomfortable with the turn in the conversation. He took a hearty swig of the steaming coffee without flinching.
“She deserves a good man.”
He scowled. “You've probably heard the scuttlebutt that it won't be me.”
Allison
had
heard from Ellie that she'd told Colt they had no future since she had no idea if the husband who'd deserted her when Bethany was born was alive or dead. Besides, as nice a man as he was, she didn't love him.
“I'm sorry.”
“So am I. She's a sweet person and wonderful company, but I think we both always knew we were never going to be more than friends.”
The knot in Allison's chest loosened.
“Back to the children,” she said, deciding that she should return the conversation to their mutual problem. “What did Cilla have to say about her behavior?”
Colt cleared his throat but met her curious gaze head-on. “It seems that as a father, I've fallen far short in the attention and support areas of their lives.”
“I'm not certain I understand.”
Colt placed his elbows on the table and leaned toward her. Allison listened as he explained what Cilla had told him about the reason she misbehaved.
When he finished, Allison said, “She misbehaves to get your attention?”
“So it seems. She says that even when I'm at home with them, my thoughts are far away.” He leaned back in his chair and lifted his coffee mug. “As bad as I hate to admit it, she's right. It took me a long while to get past losing Patty. Maybe I still dwell on it too much sometimes.”
He met Allison's troubled gaze. “When Patty was alive, she took care of most of the child rearing, and I made the living. When she died, it all fell to me. I didn't know what to do besides feed and clothe them, and that's more or less all I've been doing. It seemed to work okay when they were small, but now that they're growing up, they need more.”
Allison looked at him, wondering what it would be like to be loved by a man who still missed you after so many years. “That makes sense. Most men would probably handle things the same way. And Cilla's comment fits with something she said yesterday.”
“What's that?” He took another swallow of coffee.
“She said that she stepped on my glasses because she was standing up for Brady. After I thought about that awhile, I realized that almost every time she gets into trouble, it's
after
Brady and I have had some sort of exchange about his schoolwork. I believe one reason she acts out is to take my attention away from her brother.”
Colt looked dumbfounded. “She's always been protective of him, so that makes a strange sort of sense,” he said after a moment. “Sometimes I think she's trying to take the place of her mother.”
While Allison tucked that bit of information into a corner of her mind to ponder later, he explained how Cilla was feeling sorry for herself over not having a mother to instruct her in the ladylike pursuits her schoolmates enjoyed.
“She also told me they tried to wreck my relationships because they're afraid a stepmother might take me away from them, and a new wife will have children that I will love more than I do them.”
“You can't be serious!”
“I assure you I'm quite serious,” he said. “Where do they come up with all these strange notions?”
“Never having had children, I couldn't say.”
“I may as well tell you that she has a problem with you, too.”
“Me?” Allison's shock was apparent. “What sort of problem can she possibly have with me? It isn't as if you're looking at me as a candidate to become their stepmother.” A rush of color flooded her cheeks the instant the words left her lips.
“No, no, nothing like that,” he replied, his agreement blunt and crisp. “Uh, Cilla says you're too...happy all the time.”
Allison's jaw dropped. Amused despite the confession, she shook her head and a totally unexpected and unprofessional giggle escaped her. “Well, that's one for the books.”
“Here you go!” Ellie said, setting a plate piled high with a mouthwatering array of breakfast goodies in front of Colt and a piece of dry toast and a single soft fried egg in front of Allison.
She eyed his plate of eggs, ham, grits, biscuits and a small bowl of gravy with an expression of pure envy. How long had it been since she'd enjoyed a real breakfast? She glanced at Colt and saw that in complete contrast to his earlier grim seriousness, there was the barest hint of a smile in his eyes.
“I tried to tell you.”
A yearning sigh escaped her, but not for the food this time. No doubt about it, the man could be potentially fatal to a lady's heart!
Get hold of yourself, Allison Grainger. Every single woman in town would agree that he's attractive. Most of those same women have been dated by him and nixed by his children, so just stop drooling over him like a dog over a ham bone and get back to the business at hand.
Gathering the remnants of her scattered wits, Allison forced a prim smile and picked up her knife and fork.
“I'd be glad to share.”
“No, thank you.” She gave a quick mental thank-you for her food, took a small bite of the egg and chewed slowly. She wasn't sure why, but she hated eating in front of people she didn't know, especially men.
“I'm not sure what I can do about my...irritating happiness,” she said after washing down the bite of egg with another sip of coffee. “Except for a few years after losing someone I loved very much, I've more or less always tried to have a positive outlook, no matter what came my way. I believe with all my heart that God bestows so many blessings on us that we ought not whine and sulk or be angry when difficulties do crop up.”
“And what about your behavior when you came into my office yesterday?”
Her guilty gaze flew to his. Oh, dear! She hoped this conversation would not decline into another shouting match. To her eternal thankfulness, she saw that he was not provoking her at all. In fact, the expression in his eyes held more curiosity than challenge.
“I was afraid you'd bring that up,” she said with a shake of her head. “I can't apologize enough. It was not at all like me.”
“I believe you.” The simple acknowledgment made, he asked, “Perhaps I'm prying, but who was it that you loved and lost?”
“My fiancé.”
The shock on his face might have been comical if it hadn't hurt so much to realize that he seemed surprised that she had caught the attention of any man.
“Believe it or not, Sheriff, some men look beyond the exterior of a woman.”
Once more, discomfiture flushed his rugged features.
“I'm well aware of that, Miss Grainger. All men should do the same. It's just that Ellie never mentioned anything about you having had a man in your life. Do you mind if I ask what happened?”
She regarded him for several seconds. The last thing she wanted was for Colt Garrett to feel sorry for her.
“I do, actually,” she told him. “It's something I seldom talk about.”
He nodded in understanding and returned his attention to his breakfast, ending that line of conversation.
Allison spoke up, her voice once again professional. “At least what you've told me has given me some ideas. I think we should work on involving Cilla in activities that will make her feel as if she has more in common with girls her age. Of course, it will be up to her to decide which pursuits she'd like to try.” Her forehead wrinkled in thought. “I can check to see if Hattie has room for any new piano students.”
“She might like that,” Colt said with a nod.
“As for sewing and such, it so happens that I am quite an accomplished seamstress. In fact, I make all my clothes. But I fear my other handwork is passable at best. My sister Belinda does beautiful embroidery and petit point, and Ellie is quite good herself. I tend to attack it,” she added, almost as an afterthought.
“Attack it?”
A memory surfaced, and, their earlier tiff forgotten, her lips curved and her smiling gaze met his. “My mother used to tell me that I wasn't supposed to go at it like I was killing snakes, that it was designed to be a pleasurable ladies' pursuit, but once I start a piece, all I can think of is how soon I can finish.”
Colt's gaze clung to hers a moment longer before he began to saw at a piece of ham with unusual fervor. Like her earlier giggle, the smile did amazing things to her appearance. They ate in silence for several moments...an awkward silence, to be sure.
Allison used her last bite of toast to mop up the rich yellow yolk on her plate. Colt forked up a bite of biscuit, swirled it through some milk gravy and popped it into his mouth, leaving a tiny smudge clinging to the corner of his upper lip. Before she realized what she was going to do, she reached out, leaned across the table and wiped at the smear with her napkin.
Warm, calloused fingers circled her wrist.
She gasped, mortified by her spontaneous action, excited by the feel of his fingers against her skin.
“I...I'm so sorry,” she apologized in a whisper, aware that the pulse in her wrist was throbbing wildly beneath his thumb. “It's just such a...natural thing for me to wipe tears and runny noses and...” Her voice trailed away and her gaze fell from his to the sugar bowl sitting in the center of the table. “I'm sorry.”