An Agent for Amey

by Laura Beers

  “You seem to have a similar effect on me, as well,” she admitted.

  Lincoln cocked his head. “Perhaps you’re a witch.”

  She laughed at his unexpected remark. “I am no witch, sir.”

  He grew solemn before saying, “I’m sorry I doubted your ability to protect yourself. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  She smiled at that small victory. “Thank you, Lincoln.”

  He took a step closer to her. “I like hearing my name on your lips,” he said softly.

  Amey’s breath hitched at the look of longing in his eyes, and for the briefest of moments, she thought about taking a step closer to him. But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. This marriage wasn’t real, and she refused to complicate their situation by kissing him.

  Taking a step back, she saw disappointment flash in his eyes. “I’m famished,” she said when she finally found her voice. “I’m going to see if the dining room is serving supper yet. Would you care to join me?”

  “I would, but I need a moment alone,” he stated, his eyes still intently watching her. “I still have to change out of my wet clothes.”

  Amey started walking backwards toward the door. “All right. I’ll go and claim a table for us.”

  Once she reached the door, she grabbed the handle and turned it. She had an overwhelming desire to run away from Lincoln. If she stayed any longer, she was afraid that she’d make a fool of herself by running into his arms.

  7

  Lincoln waited until Amey closed the door before he dropped down onto the bed. What had he been thinking? He’d almost kissed her. His partner. To make matters worse, he realized that he was in trouble. He’d started developing feelings for his wife.

  Real feelings.

  That would never do. He couldn’t fall for his wife. It could jeopardize the whole mission. Why did Amey have to be so blasted beautiful, on the inside and out? He found himself drawn to her, as if he’d known her for years. But he’d only known her for two days.

  He sighed as he rose from the bed. He needed to suppress his feelings, because once this case was over, they would go their separate ways. Which is what he wanted. He didn’t want to be tied down to a wife. Besides, he wasn’t worthy of a wife, especially not someone like Amey. She was good and kind and he was… not. He needed to ensure he kept things professional between them.

  With his mind made up, Lincoln quickly changed before he headed down to the dining room. He didn’t want to keep Amey waiting for too long. He saw that she was sitting next to the window, staring out into the night.

  He approached the table and pulled out a chair. “What’s for supper?”

  She turned to face him and smiled, transforming her entire face. “You have a choice between the beef stew or steak.”

  “Those are two mighty good options.”

  “I thought so, as well.”

  A waitress with blonde hair tied at the base of her neck approached their table. “My name is Mary, and I’ll be your waitress tonight. What can I get for you?” she asked with a smile.

  “I’d like the beef stew,” Amey answered.

  Lincoln shifted in his seat. “Steak for me.”

  “Coming right up,” Mary stated before she turned to leave.

  After the waitress walked away, Amey leaned forward in her seat and said, “We need to search those woods again tomorrow.”

  “I agree.”

  She blew out a puff of air. “We don’t have much to go on yet. We have no suspects, no clues, and our only lead is the fabric that Doris purchased at the general store.”

  “Something will turn up tomorrow,” he replied optimistically.

  She eyed him suspiciously. “You are being surprisingly positive.”

  He chuckled. “I guess you bring out that side of me.”

  Amey grinned in response. “I’m glad. I find this side of you is much more fun to talk to.”

  “Really? Why is that?” he asked, deciding to play along.

  Before Amey could respond, Mrs. Willow walked up to the table with a deep frown on her aged face.

  Lincoln rose from his seat respectfully and asked, “Is everything all right?”

  “I was hoping to speak to you about something,” the proprietress said.

  “Of course,” Lincoln replied, pointing toward a chair. “Please have a seat.”

  “Thank you,” Mrs. Willow murmured as she pulled out the chair. “I’ve been debating all day about speaking to you about this.”

  “What’s troubling you?” Amey inquired.

  Mrs. Willow glanced around the room before she brought her gaze back to Amey. “It’s about Jacob Tiner.”

  Lincoln sat down and asked, “What about Jacob Tiner?”

  In a hushed voice, Mrs. Willow shared, “I saw you speaking to him this morning, and I know you went out to visit him at his cattle ranch. But I thought you should be aware that he murdered his wife.”

  Amey gasped, feigning surprise. “He did?”

  Mrs. Willow nodded. “About three weeks ago, Doris’s body was found in the woods near their home.”

  “If Mr. Tiner killed his wife, then why hasn’t the sheriff arrested him?” Lincoln asked.

  “Because Mr. Tiner is clever,” Mrs. Willow said, “and he covered his tracks nicely.”

  Amey leaned closer to Mrs. Willow and asked in a low voice, “Why do you think Mr. Tiner killed his wife?”

  “Who else could it be?” she replied. “Everyone in town loved Doris.”

  “Do you have any evidence to support your claim?” Lincoln asked.

  Again, Mrs. Willow glanced around the room anxiously before bringing her gaze back to his. “Mr. Tiner and his wife fought constantly.”

  “They did?” Lincoln asked, genuinely surprised.

  Mrs. Willow nodded. “Mr. Tiner met Doris back East when he was going to college. Doris was the daughter of one of his professors, and her whole family lived in Boston. After Mr. Tiner graduated, he purchased the cattle ranch here in Longworth, and his wife was not pleased.”

  “She wasn’t?” Amey inquired.

  Mrs. Willow shook her head. “Heavens, no. Doris wanted to return back to Boston to be closer to her family. She hated living in Colorado. It was a great source of contention between those two.”

  Lincoln furrowed his brow. “How do you know all of this?”

  “Not only was I Doris’s friend, but I also witnessed one of their fights,” Mrs. Willow revealed.

  “What happened?” Amey asked.

  Mrs. Willow pressed her lips together before answering. “They came in for a late supper and sat at that table over there.” She pointed toward a table in the corner. “Everything appeared fine until Jacob started raising his voice. He was telling Doris that he would never leave Longworth, and he forbade her from traveling to stay with her parents.”

  “Is that so?” Lincoln questioned.

  Mrs. Willow nodded. “Doris started crying, and Jacob left the table in a huff.”

  Amey glanced over at him before asking, “Did Jacob not escort Doris back home?”

  “No, he did eventually come back,” Mrs. Willow replied, “but he’d spent a great deal of time out on the porch.”

  Mary walked up to their table with their food and said, “I have a bowl of beef stew and a steak.” She placed them down in front of them. “Is there anything else I can get for you two?”

  Lincoln shook his head. “No, ma’am. Thank you.”

  The waitress nodded and headed back toward the kitchen.

  Mrs. Willow rose from her seat. “I apologize for taking so much of your time, but I just wanted to warn you about Jacob Tiner. He is not a man to be trusted.”

  “And we thank you for that,” Amey replied. “Good heavens! We wouldn’t want to be associated with a murderer, now would we, Lincoln?”

  “No, we most assuredly would not,” Lincoln answered. “We will remember to steer clear of Jacob Tiner from now on.”

  “I think that would be for the best,�
�� Mrs. Willow said with a weak smile. “Now, please enjoy your supper.”

  As Lincoln watched Mrs. Willow walk away, he asked, “What do you make of that?”

  “It’s evident that Mrs. Willow truly believes that Jacob killed Doris.”

  “I agree.”

  Amey reached for her spoon. “But witnessing a fight between a married couple is a far cry from motive for murder.”

  “True,” Lincoln acknowledged. “We’ll need to talk to Jacob about how he left out the part where he and his wife were having marital problems.”

  Amey dipped her spoon into the bowl, brought it up to her mouth, blew on it, and put the bite of stew into her mouth. Her eyes lit up as she chewed and swallowed. “This beef stew is amazing,” she murmured before taking another bite.

  Lincoln reached for his fork and knife. “I propose we enjoy our supper and then adjourn to bed early. We have a full day of work ahead of us tomorrow.”

  “Agreed.”

  He cut a big piece of meat and eased the entire portion into his mouth. After he swallowed, he said, “I also need to confirm that you are as good a shot as you claim to be.”

  A smug smile came to her lips. “You won’t be disappointed, then.”

  “We shall see,” he replied.

  “No!”

  Amey’s eyes flew open when she heard Lincoln shout from across the room. Without the slightest hesitation, she reached for the derringer under her pillow and shot up in bed. Her eyes scanned the darkened room, but she saw no sign of danger.

  “No. Not Paul,” Lincoln muttered as he rolled onto his side. “They killed Paul.”

  Knowing that Lincoln was having a nightmare, she returned her gun to its place under her pillow and laid her head back down. Lincoln continued to talk in his sleep, but Amey was unable to make out any more words.

  Did she dare wake him up?

  “I’m going to kill them all!” Lincoln exclaimed as he began to thrash about.

  Amey sat up in bed and placed her legs over the side. If she didn’t wake him up, she was afraid that he would wake up the other patrons in the hotel. She rose and walked across the cold floorboards to where Lincoln was sleeping.

  She crouched down next to him and said in a hushed voice, “Lincoln. Wake up.” When he didn’t respond, she placed her hand on his shoulder and shook him gently. “You’re having a nightmare.”

  In an instant, Lincoln shot up to a sitting position, pointing his revolver at her chest.

  “Are you mad, Amey?” he shouted, lowering his gun. “You can’t just sneak up on a man in his sleep.”

  “You were having a nightmare.”

  “Regardless, I could have shot you.” He placed his revolver onto the floor next to him. “You should have let me sleep.”

  “You were shouting, and I was afraid you would wake up everyone in the hotel.”

  “Oh,” he replied as he ran his hand through his tousled hair. “I hadn’t realized.”

  Amey remained silent for a moment before she asked, “Who is Paul?”

  Lincoln gave her a baffled look. “Paul?”

  “You said they killed Paul,” she replied.

  In a dismissive tone, he answered, “He was our color bearer.”

  “What is a color bearer?”

  “A color bearer was the one who carried our flag into battle,” he explained. “Their job was to protect the flag at all costs and ensure it remained flying and visible at all times.”

  “What happened to Paul?”

  Lincoln visibly tensed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I understand.”

  “You do?” Lincoln asked skeptically.

  “I do. There are some things that are too painful to talk about, but I’m here if you want to share.”

  “Thank you, but I don’t wish to burden you with my past,” Lincoln said.

  Amey reached out and placed her hand on his sleeve. “I wouldn’t consider it a burden,” she replied. “After all, friends help one another.”

  “We aren’t friends,” he said with a shake of his head.

  “We are,” she replied firmly.

  Lincoln shifted to meet her gaze. “We’re partners, nothing more.”

  “But we’re married,” she joked with a slight pout.

  A frown came to his lips. “We aren’t truly married.”

  “I know, but I was hoping to make you smile.”

  He sighed. “Trust me when I say that you don’t want to be friends with me.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because my friends usually end up dead.”

  Amey realized that her hand was still on Lincoln’s sleeve, and she quickly removed it. “You need not worry about me,” she said, smiling, “I am rather clever.”

  Lincoln rose and dusted off his trousers. “I’ve lost more friends than I can count in the war, including Paul.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Amey said, rising.

  A pained look came to Lincoln’s face. “I was a trained soldier, but no one can prepare you to watch your friends, your comrades, get shot right in front of you.” He went and dropped down on to the sofa. “Every time I close my eyes, I see their bodies on the ground, lifeless.”

  Amey sat down next to him. “What a horrific thing to have to witness.”

  “It truly was.” He turned toward her. “I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep.”

  “Don’t concern yourself about that,” she replied. “I just wanted to make sure that you’re all right.”

  “I don’t think I will ever be all right,” he shared. “I’ve done too many things, seen too many things, to ever be able to go back to the way I was before the war.”

  Finding herself curious, she asked, “What were you like before the war?”

  “Carefree,” he said with a hint of a wistful smile. “I attended lavish parties, dined at the fanciest restaurants, and went to the theater. I mingled with only the elite of society.”

  “Were you happy with that life?”

  He furrowed his brows. “Why would you ask that?”

  “My life was similar, only on a smaller scale, mind you, and I never felt fulfilled,” she answered honestly. “It wasn’t until I became a Pinkerton agent that I found a purpose to my life.”

  “It was a different time, and I was an entirely different person,” he admitted, clenching his hands into tight fists. “How can I go back to my old life without my brothers by my side? I refuse to.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  Lincoln huffed. “Try explaining that to my father,” he said. “He wants me to return to the family business.”

  “Would that be so bad?”

  “It would.”

  “Then don’t go,” she said firmly.

  With a shake of his head, Lincoln stated, “If only it was that easy, but my father has threatened to disown me if I don’t return to New York by the end of the year.”

  She grinned. “Being disowned isn’t the worst thing that could happen to a person. I’ve quite enjoyed my freedom.”

  Lincoln looked at her knowingly. “Don’t you miss your parents?”

  Her smile dimmed. “I do, but it was my parents’ choice to disown me.”

  “Do you wish it could be different?”

  She nodded. “Every day. However, my parents are ashamed of the woman that I’ve become.”

  “I don’t know how anyone could be ashamed of you, Amey,” he said with gentleness in his voice. “You’re a remarkable woman.”

  Tears came to her eyes at his kind remarks. “Thank you for that,” she murmured. “I know that I am rather peculiar….”

  “Peculiar?” Lincoln shook his head. “You may be infuriating and stubborn, but you are most definitely not peculiar.”

  “Are you attempting to compliment me or insult me?” she asked, confused.

  He smiled. “Compliment you, of course.”

  “Well, you’re terrible at compliments.”

  “Perhaps you’re the one w
ho is terrible at receiving them.”

  She squared her shoulders. “I don’t believe that to be the case.”

  Unexpectedly, Lincoln reached out and cupped her right cheek. “I’ve never met anyone like you before,” he murmured, “and I don’t think I ever will.”

  Amey’s eyes searched his, and in them, she saw pain lurking deep within. “What can I do to help you?” she found herself asking.

  He lowered his hand from her cheek. “No one can help me,” he said dejectedly, turning away from her.

  She boldly reached for his hand and encompassed it. “I want to help you.”

  “Leave it, Amey,” he grumbled. “Agents do not analyze one another.”

  “I am not analyzing you, Lincoln,” she stated. “I want to help you find joy again.”

  “Why?”

  “Because,” she started slowly, “everyone should have joy in their lives.”

  Lincoln removed his hand from hers. “Enough talking,” he barked, abruptly rising. “We are partners on this case and nothing more. Do I make myself clear?”

  Amey rose from her seat and said, “You’re not as tough as you think you are, Lincoln. I will get you to admit that we’re friends.”

  “That won’t happen,” he replied, shaking his head.

  “It will.”

  “You’re dreaming.”

  “Perhaps, but I won’t give up,” Amey said as she walked over to the bed and slipped beneath the covers. “Enjoy the rest of the evening.”

  As she laid her head down on the pillow, a smile came to her face. She would befriend Lincoln one way or another. It was only a matter of time before…

  “Stop smiling,” Lincoln growled, breaking through her thoughts.

  Amey laughed. “You can’t stop me from smiling.”

  Lincoln laid back on the ground and muttered, “Insufferable woman.”

  8

  Lincoln woke to the sun shining into the room. He glanced over and saw Amey laying in her bed, still asleep. He couldn’t help but admire her beauty as he looked at her blonde hair spread out on the pillow behind her head.

  How was it possible that Amey could penetrate through his defenses so proficiently? His heart was supposed to be hardened beyond repair. Yet, he found it softening as he spent more time with Amey.