The Widow's Touch (A Whimsical Select Romance Novella) by Tamara Ternie Page A

heading over to Sally’s and bringing us back some supper?”
    “Was waiting for you to say that,” he said with a stern nod.  “About ready to eat my hat,” Frank replied, and he grabbed his jacket and shot out the door like a bullet.  A few townsmen hollered derogatory comments at Eloda through the door when Frank left, but the room fell silent again once the door shut.
    Jack looked back into the cell and watched her again. “About last night,” he began.
    “There’s nothing to discuss,” Eloda interrupted.  She didn’t look at him and noted that her painting strokes that came soft and subtle moments before had quickly turned harsh and erratic.
    “Being a lawman is my life,” he explained. “I can’t allow a woman to get in the way of that.”
    Eloda closed her eyes and took a few breaths.  He was trying to be sincere and she at least owed him the courtesy of her attention.  She laid her brush down and walked to him, only the bars stood between them.  “I didn’t kill Mister Timmons,” she said gently, but emphatically.
    He extended his arm through the bars and it appeared that he was going to reach for her hand, but he stopped, and instead, gripped the bars with both hands in tight fists.  “I want to believe that.”  He looked at her and added, “But you’re hiding something, Eloda.  I’m not a fool, so don’t play me as one.”
    His knuckles white ned from squeezing the bars so tightly and Eloda decided not to cross him.  She reached out and laid her hands gently upon both his fists. 
    “I never thought you to be one,” she said.
    “ Until you can tell me what you’re hiding, I’ll not risk my reputation.”  He slid his hands away from hers and stepped back.  “I’ll help you in the ways I can, but I’ll not jeopardize my badge when you can’t trust me.”  He reached for the keys that Frank had left in the keyhole of her cell and turned it. The loud clatter of the lock mechanism echoed in the room.  “Trust works both ways, Eloda.”
    Eloda thought on his words for a moment.  Her desire for him came just as strong as it had the night before, and she wanted him, but she wouldn’t be given an ultimatum. She understood why he felt the way he did.  Being from a family of lawmen, and him being so proud, he’d not want to be the one who blemished their family name.  She’d have felt the same way, she silently admitted.
    “I’m sorry, Jack,” she whispered.  “There’s nothing more I can tell you.”
    It was then the door opened and Jack turned and rested his hand on the hilt of his gun believing it may have been one of the rowdies outside the door, but he relaxed his hand when he saw the boy enter.
    “What are you doing here, Andy?” Eloda asked.
    “ Ma told me to bring you this,” he said, and he raised a basket that sent an aroma of freshly baked goods into room.  He looked at the sheriff for his permission to give it to her, and after Jack nodded, he walked to Eloda.  “Biscuits and marmalade,” the boy said.
    “ That was almighty kind of her to go to such trouble,” Eloda said. She lifted the cloth that held in the heat and she inhaled a deep whiff.  “Smells delicious,” she added.  She sat the basket on the cot and returned to look at the boy.  “I’m glad you’ve come.  I want you to tell your mother to go to my home and ask for Mrs. Fletcher.”  The boy looked at her queerly.  “She’ll set her to work at a decent wage,” she added.
    “Truly, Mrs. Timmons?” the boy asked, surprised and excited.  But his smile dropped and he lowered his head.  “You’d do that, even after…”   His words trailed off as he gazed over her cell and then back to her.
    “Yes, now go on and get home.  Tell her to go first thing in the morning , and tell her I thank her kindly for the consideration in sending this,” she said and raised the basket.
                  “Yes, ma’am,” he said.
    “And Andy,” she called after him