Yes, that was precisely it. If he’d never ventured this far with a woman, how could he possibly know if he was capable of fulfilling any promises he made?
He swallowed hard at the thought. If things progressed as he hoped they would, she would need to rely on him. He’d need to provide a home, safety, food, and comfort. And if there were children . . .
Cole shook his head and opened the door to Mrs. Shomburg’s boardinghouse. He was getting ahead of himself. He had plenty of time to worry about all of that later.
Dust motes danced in the sunlight streaming through the front windows as a fire blazed in the fireplace of the large empty room. Mrs. Shomburg often had coffee available for her boarders throughout the day. A cup might settle his thoughts before he went to see Marian.
The low rumble of voices came from the kitchen, and Cole followed the sound, hoping the coffee was fresh and hot. He paused outside the door as the voices became clearer.
“I don’t know who informed you of that, sir, but I don’t sell spirits here anymore.” That was Mrs. Shomburg. After the death of her husband, she had turned his saloon into a boardinghouse. Occasionally an old-timer wandered in, expecting to find beer and whiskey.
Cole frowned. Those confused folks usually didn’t enter the kitchen, though. He rested his hand on the door as he listened to the man’s reply.
“What sort of nonsense is that? I heard Shomburg’s Saloon served spirits!” The man spoke in an agitated voice.
“We did in the past, but this is no longer a saloon. I must ask you to leave now.” The widow was perfectly polite, but there was no mistaking the steel in her voice. She must have needed that often when this place was a saloon.
“I’m going nowhere till you give me that whiskey you’re hiding.”
Cole didn’t need to hear more. He entered the kitchen to find Mrs. Shomburg standing with her hands on her hips near the back door, and a short, disheveled man with a red face taking a step toward her.
“That’s enough.” Cole locked eyes with the man, who’d swung his gaze away from Mrs. Shomburg. “It’s time for you to leave now.”
When the man didn’t budge, Mrs. Shomburg crossed her arms and added, “You heard what the deputy said, Mr. Hardison.”
Hardison glanced at her before returning a watery gaze back to Cole. The man had clearly already imbibed. The last thing he needed was anything more.
“Go on home.” Cole took a step toward him to encourage him to move toward the door.
The man didn’t move, not right away. He kept his eyes trained on Cole. And just as Cole thought he’d need to force Hardison out the door, Hardison finally complied. “Never liked it much here, anyway,” he muttered as he stumbled down the back steps.
Cole strode to the door to ensure the man continued on his way. When he was satisfied, he shut the door and turned to Mrs. Shomburg. “Are you all right? Do you need to sit down?”
She waved a hand at him. “I’m fine. I’ve seen worse than Ian Hardison in my life. Would you like some coffee, Deputy? It’s the least I can do to thank you.”
“I’d love a cup.” Cole sat at the small, scarred table while Mrs. Shomburg poured a cup of steaming coffee that she must have just made before her unwanted visitor had arrived. “Do you keep that back door locked?”
“I do at night.” She set the coffee in front of him. “It’s a shame to think I ought to do that during the day now too. Milk or sugar?”
Cole shook his head and wrapped his hands around the hot mug. “Might be a good idea, at least until Hardison learns this isn’t a saloon any longer.”
She gave a quick nod. “At least when he’s out drinking, he’s leaving that little boy of his alone. That child deserves better than what he’s got.”
Cole furrowed his brow. “How old is the boy?”
“Maybe seven or eight. They’re new to town, but from what I’ve heard, his mama passed when he was young.”
He ought to ask Marian about the boy. If he was still coming to school, she could keep an eye on him.
Mrs. Shomburg wiped her hands on a small towel. “I need to get out front and set up for the ladies’ quilting group coming in here later. You finish that and go on to see your girl.”
It was a good thing Mrs. Shomburg had already headed for the door that led to the main room, or she would’ve seen how red her comment had made Cole’s face.
He chuckled quietly at his own embarrassment as he set the mug down. The entire town likely knew that he was courting Marian. And for once, he didn’t mind.
In fact, he wanted to run out into the street and shout it from the tops of his lungs.
He needn’t worry about the future. Not when the present was so enjoyable.
