Come the Spring by Julie Garwood

sides. One of the housemaids was sent up to tell Rebecca the marshals were waiting for her on the porch.
    The sunlight was fading, and a cool breeze was a welcome respite after the blistering heat of the day.
    â€œWe won’t learn anything important,” Cole predicted. “We already know all three of the women were spotted in the bank earlier in the afternoon. Talking to them is a wasted effort. What could they have seen?”
    â€œWe won’t know the answer to that question until we talk to them. It shouldn’t take long.”
    Thirty minutes later, he had to revise his estimate. Rebecca kept them waiting until well after eight o’clock. Cole paced around the veranda. Ryan was sprawled out in one of the wicker chairs when Rebecca finally arrived. She didn’t apologize for being late, and from the expression on her face as shewalked across the porch to join them, they could tell she was still fuming.
    Ryan stood up as soon as he spotted her coming toward him. He waited for her to take her seat, then pulled up another chair to face her. Cole leaned back against the railing and folded his arms across his chest.
    She sat on the edge of the chair, her back straight and her hands in her lap. She was furious all right, and if she became any more upset, Cole thought smoke would start pouring out of her ears.
    He leaned back, content to let Ryan question the woman while he watched her. He knew he was being rude; he didn’t care. The woman was magnificent. He searched for a flaw, hoping that if he found one, he would be able to get past his fascination with her.
    Ryan was also staring intently, and Cole wondered if he was playing the same game.
    â€œWe appreciate your cooperation,” Ryan began. “And we’re both sorry about the trouble earlier.”
    â€œI don’t believe I’ll be much help with your investigation,” she said. “But I’ll be happy to answer your questions. Then I’m going to leave this horrible town and never look back. The town is charming, I’ll admit, and the waterfalls are spectacular, but the people are a bit … backward, and since the rumor was put in the paper, it’s been very difficult. I’m happy I’ll be getting back home.”
    â€œWhere is home?” Ryan asked.
    â€œSt. Louis. I had planned to leave a couple of days ago to meet some friends in Salt Lake City, but then I became ill and had to delay my trip.”
    â€œAre you feeling better now?”
    â€œA little, thank you. The doctor told me I was fortunate because I have only a mild case.”
    â€œAre you originally from St. Louis?” Cole asked.
    â€œI grew up in the east,” she explained. “I moved to St. Louis to be near close friends.”
    She turned back to Ryan. “I thought you wanted to talk about the robbery.”
    â€œWe do,” Ryan answered. “Do you remember what time you were in the bank?”
    She took several seconds to answer. “As a matter of fact, I do remember. I was inside the bank at two o’clock, give or take ten minutes. I stood in line, but I don’t remember any of the other people who were there. I wasn’t paying any attention to them. I’m sure someone will remember seeing me there. Are you writing down every word I say on paper?”
    Ryan glanced up and smiled. “I’m trying to,” he said.
    â€œWhy?”
    He leaned back in the chair, finished jotting down his notes, and then said, “There have been so many robberies, it’s the only way I can keep the information straight. Does it bother you?”
    She shook her head. “No, I simply found it curious, that’s all.”
    Sheriff Sloan interrupted the questioning when he came lumbering up the steps. He looked sheepish, and as soon as he saw the marshals’ hostile expressions, he turned around and tried to leave.
    Ryan’s voice lashed out at him. “Sit.”
    As quick as a trained