Wolf Creek Father. Penny Richards

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.”

      “No apology necessary,” he said, releasing his hold on her as if she’d become hot to touch. Changing the topic, he said, “I appreciate your time and your input, Miss Grainger. When do you suggest that we put our plans into motion?”

      She squared her shoulders. “Well, July is more than half gone, and Labor Day will be here before we know it, so the sooner the better if we hope to make enough progress before then to keep our positions. I’ll try to get some letters off today and I’ll speak to Hattie, as well.”

      A thoughtful expression filled her eyes. “Cilla is at a precarious age—no longer a little girl and not yet a young lady. Her emotions are all a jumble.”

      Colt blew out a breath. “You’re right about that. Some days it’s like she’s all grown up and others, she bursts into tears over nothing.”

      “I recall those years as being quite vexing, as I believe most young girls do, but now that we both have a better grasp of the problem, I believe we’ll work through this.”

      Though he wasn’t happy at the prospect, he said, “I’ll do my best, but you may have to spell things out for me.” He stood, reaching into his pocket for some money. “I’ll catch up with you later today or tomorrow,” he said. “Or feel free to stop by the jail to talk over any ideas or suggestions if you’re over that way.”

      “Thank you. I will. And thank you for the breakfast.”

      * * *

      After Allison hugged her sister and niece goodbye, she and Colt parted ways. He watched her cross the street and head toward the mercantile, her back ramrod-straight. Unlike her sister, there was not one bit of sway to her hips.

      Grunting in frustration, he headed toward the jail, thinking about the time he’d just spent with the spinster teacher. After talking to her, he was convinced that she was concerned about the children, and with her optimistic attitude, he even felt a seed of optimism himself that they might be able to bring about a much-needed change. He hoped so.

      As a lawman, he was pretty good at reading between the lines and piecing together things that might seem unrelated but often led him in the right direction when it came to capturing the bad guys, like Elton Thomerson and his buddy. Unfortunately, that talent seemed absent when it came to his kids.

      During the time spent with Miss Grainger, he had noticed some very interesting