An Agent for Gillian

by Ginny Sterling

  “No, I’m sorry I interrupted, but if you don’t marry him – some other woman will snatch up a man that can love so deeply. Here,” Gillian said bluntly, shoving a handkerchief towards the woman’s head, noting her ruddy nose from the tears she’d been weeping. There was no such thing as a pretty-cry. No, tears were ugly and Gillian was tired of shedding them all the time.

  “Nothing will bring back my husband… treasure your own.” Gillian was suddenly struck with a notion. She turned around and started to head out of the church.

  “Wait!”

  “I will be right back,” Gillian reassured the woman and rushed out into the street on a mission. Racing, she ran directly to the minister’s home not far behind the chapel. She’d made that run before, the day Michael had died, but this was another reason - another matter - altogether. She was trying to change her memories and fill them with happier ones. Maybe if she could perform a good deed for each terrifying moment, she could sleep at night again.

  Kicking in the door, she saw the rotund minister was sitting at the table about to put a large spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. She glanced at him, the laden plate in front of him, and back at the surprised expression.

  “Mrs. Jameson! This is uncalled for!”

  “Get up. You are needed.”

  “Who’s dead now?” he asked coldly, and this infuriated her. He was supposed to care, supposed to be tending his flock! A haze of red tinged the edges of her vision and she knew she was close to losing her temper.

  “Get your portly rear-end out of the chair and follow me,” Gillian snarled, pulling a gun from the pocket of her dress. “I’m a little bothered by some things rolling around in my head right now and you are needed at the chapel.”

  Grabbing him by the cuff of his robes, Gillian pushed him down the little stone pathway towards the tiny chapel. She knew this was beyond the pale and Father O’Rourke would have an absolute fit back home if he’d seen her manhandle a man of the cloth, regardless of the religion.

  “Miss, this is quite unorthodox to manhandle a man of the cloth.”

  “Mrs!” she corrected. “I told you this was important!”

  “My lunch is too!”

  “It. Can. Wait,” she bit out, remembering his plate full of food. She hadn’t eaten so well in weeks, existing off what she could scrounge up or hunt down. Michael had always been the provider and in return she’d promised him a loving home.

  “Look Gillian, I understand your nerves are frazzled and you miss hi…”

  “It’s not for me!” Gillian interrupted loudly, pointing at the couple standing there as shocked as the minister looked to be. They stared at the commotion in front of them. “It’s for these two! Did you agree to marry him yet?”

  “Yes.”

  The pastor tried to pull away from Gillian, heading towards the front door of the church. She wasn’t about to let him go either. He’d shirked other duties and callously put himself first – and she was heartily sick of it. If someone had to teach this man of God a lesson, she was going to be the person to do it – even if it put her on a direct path to Hell.

  “Stop it, Pastor James!” Gillian roared indignantly, stomping her foot, stunning all of them at the sight she made. You could practically see her hair crackling around her head under her scarf from the display of her temper at that moment.

  “You were in an all-fired hurry and rushed through Michael’s funeral. You rushed through everything else and you are guided by your stomach – I get it. You like to eat – well, guess what? Me too! These two lovebirds are wanting to get married - and if you’ll do it now - I’ll make you a pie unlike any you’ve had before. Deal?”

  “Can you put extra butter in the crust and make sure its flaky,” the minister whispered behind his hand towards Gillian. At his words, she thought her eyes would pop out of her head in utter disbelief. It was simply going to take a pie for the man in order to get him to act right? Maybe her mother was right all those years ago – you did get more flies with honey than vinegar!

  “Yeah, yeah,” Gillian acknowledged rolling her eyes. “Now, take your places.” Gillian knew from her own wedding that you needed two witnesses. She could be one, but they would have to find another quickly. Walking over to the open doorway, she yelled obnoxiously out of the chapel doors. Another man entered as she barked orders at him to take his place near the first pew.

  The couple walked towards the pulpit where the minister had walked to eagerly at the promise of a fresh pie. Gillian felt tears well up in her eyes as she watched the wedding unfold. The tall man kissed the little woman’s knuckles tenderly as he said his vows. The bride’s clear voice carried in the empty chapel, reminding Gillian of her own wedding.

  “I, Michael, take you Gilly to be my wife…”

  Gillian dashed away tears from her eyes. The minister’s words blurred in her mind but she heard them clear as day in her heart all those months ago. As the bride said, ‘I do’, Gillian clapped her hands happily that she’d performed a good deed. Michael would be proud of her encouraging and fostering another relationship – even if it was in exchange for baking Pastor James a pie.

  “That’s it?” the bride asked in confusion, making Gillian smile. The woman blushed with embarrassment as she realized what she’d uttered aloud.

  “That’s it, beloved. I hope it’s not too disappointing being my wife,” the groom teased gently, still smiling, as he turned his bride’s chin up towards him. He leaned down and gently kissed her lips before kissing the tip of her nose.

  “Now what?” the bride asked quietly.

  “We’ve a train to catch in Adair, my lovely wife. Our next stop is Denver.”

  “What’s in Denver?” Gillian asked quickly as she signed her name in the registry book, bearing witness to their wedding.

  This was an odd conversation to be overhearing. You would think that they would be gushing words of love at each other. Dragging the pastor to the church had been out of character, a rushed marriage, so why on earth did it surprise her to hear that the happy couple was making plans to travel to another state already?

  “My wife is becoming a Pinkerton Agent,” the groom announced proudly, wrapping his arm around his bride’s waist. “I couldn’t be prouder of her right now – but that is because she puts up with me.”

  Gillian sat down hard in the pew closest to her, stunned and shocked. That tiny woman was going to be a Pinkerton Agent? Women could do that? Her husband was even encouraging her to become one?

  The idea seemed so foreign, so strange. All she and Michael had ever discussed was having a family together. She’d planned her future around him and felt adrift when he’d died. Maybe this was a sign that she was right to move on and put the past behind her. If she could help protect others, maybe other women wouldn’t feel so lost and alone like she had felt.

  “You’ve got a pie you need to be making, don’t you?” Pastor James said bluntly, polishing his fingernails on his robe. “I did my job as you requested and now it’s your turn to fulfill the bargain – or else I might be tempted to get the sheriff and tell him how you threatened me. I don’t think anyone in town would cater to a woman threatening their beloved pastor. Do you?”

  Looking up, her mind whirling with hope for the first time in forever – she smiled. It was time to move on and she felt like her path had been just laid out in front of her. She had a letter to write, a train to catch, and a pie to bake before she left for Colorado.

  “You are right and I need to get started right away,” she said pleasantly, racing out the door to the church looking for the couple that just married. Spotting them, she hurriedly ran in front of them, bringing them to a halt.

  “What’s your names?” Gillian said breathlessly.

  “I’m Jericho Buchannan and this is my new bride, Clementine,” the man preened, looking down at Clementine’s smiling face.

  “Congratulations and it’s very nice to meet you both,” Gillian rushed anxiously, grabbing both of thei
r hands and shaking them quickly. “Gillian Jameson. Now who do I contact about becoming a Pinkerton agent? Where am I going to go in Colorado? I’ve got nothing here and frankly it sounds perfect for me.”

  The bride and groom looked at each other for a moment before Clementine stepped forward kindly. She smiled politely at Gillian, making her think for a moment that maybe the woman was pulling her leg about becoming a Pinkerton agent.

  “You should send a letter announcing your intention to interview for an opening, if they have one, to Archibald Gordon or his secretary, Marianne. Be candid in what you want- and open to anything that they offer. Remember, you are trying to get a foot in the door,” Clementine coached, looking at Jericho, who stood there with a skeptical eyebrow aloft.

  “I just need a fresh start,” Gillian whispered. “My husband is gone and there is nothing left here but painful memories.

  “This will be a new beginning that you won’t be expecting if you are accepted into the agency,” Clementine warned with a hesitant smile. “Are you sure you are ready for such a thing?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then we’ll be sure to say a good word when we arrive. Do send the letter quickly and hopefully this is what you need to begin again.”

  “Thank you,” Gillian said thickly, feeling grateful for the kindness and understanding she saw in Clementine’s eyes. “Thank you so much.”

  “Don’t thank us yet,” Jericho hedged. “Just remember, be ready for anything and you’ll be just fine.”

  “If I can make it through the last year- I can handle whatever comes at me.”

  Gillian quickly mailed out a letter and had her things packed, ready to go, two days later. She knew things were progressing at an alarming rate but couldn’t wait to begin the second chapter of her life. She had nothing left and no one to depend on her, so it would give her a sense of accomplishment to know she could be doing some good out in the world.

  Smiling happily, she looked at her bag that sat on the ground nearby. She had one last thing to do and a promise to keep. Knocking on the pastor’s door, she grinned when he opened it and paled just a bit.

  “What do you want? To humiliate and harass me a bit more, Mrs. Jameson? Do I need to get protection from your crazed notions?”

  “No. I promised you a pie unlike any other – something you’ve never been served before and I am thrilled to be sharing it with you.”

  “With extra butter?”

  “Oh yes. The crust is so flaky,” she breathed with delight, seeing the man’s lips smack as he stared at the covered pie she held in her hands.

  “Is it chocolate? A meringue? Maybe a chess pie?”

  “Better than that,” she admitted, smiling as she held up a corner of the linen cloth that covered it, taking a deep breath and her heart pounding. This was her final goodbye to the area and she might as well burn a few bridges on her way out.

  “Cherry?”

  “Humble,” Gillian corrected, yanking the linen off the pie plate that held an empty golden crust. “It’s humble pie. You could use a little humility in your life, Pastor James.”

  She looked at him with knowing eyes as she saw his face redden with anger. His jowls shook as he opened and closed his mouth several times in disbelief. She wasn’t upset or gloating – but rather trying to use this as a teaching moment. She wanted to prevent another woman from feeling lost when they turned to the church for help. She’d been ignored and brushed off repeatedly by the man before her and it would never happen again if she could help it.

  “People come to you for guidance and help – and instead of wondering what you are going to get out of it in this life… you should be more focused on your eternal life you preach about. Now, I am leaving town and if you want to have me arrested - do it. I will share with everyone how you were bested by a little grieving widow who has been waiting for this day for a very, very long time.”

  Gillian set down the pie plate and pivoted on her feet, walking away from everything. This town, this life, these people, and the memories would all be behind her. She would embrace whatever came her way wholeheartedly and accept the changes, no matter how intimidating it felt.

  Chapter 3

  Denver, Colorado

  “So, Clementine Buchannan called Mrs. Jameson ‘a sentimental bull-in-a-china-shop, eh?’” Archie muttered, amused as he peeked out the door. He saw the couple embrace and then shut the kitchen door once again to give them privacy.

  “Yes.”

  “And she’s widowed?”

  Marianne nodded silently. He watched her move gracefully about the kitchen as she filled the teakettle with water. Archie was a soft-hearted matchmaker at heart. If anyone knew how to pair someone, it was him… but then again, his secretary had made several excellent matches herself between the agents. Maybe he should let her have a go at this newest recruit?

  “Who are you thinking of for Gillian when she arrives? She should be on the next train coming into town, so we haven’t much time.”

  “No. I know. The longer I wait, the worse things are getting,” he answered honestly, surprised that Marianne had read his mind.

  “Yes, Archie.”

  “Who do you suggest for Gillian? Someone obviously that can handle her.”

  “I think you should pair her with Cade Malone.”

  Archie started with surprise. Cade was a man on the edge. There was a wildness to him that both concerned Archie and made Cade an exceptional agent. He was as reckless as he was morose.

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Still waters run deep with that one and I think they will be able to create a bond between them. All it takes is a chance to find something in common between them and I think she can reach him where no one else has been able to.”

  “Gillian lost her husband and his wife died in childbirth. That will make them a good match? He’s turned away every partner so far, what makes this girl different? You see more than you are letting on, don’t you, Marianne?”

  “Precisely, Archie.”

  Chapter 4

  Gasping, Cade sat up quickly in his bed at the terrors that ripped through his mind. He was holding Madeline’s body as the light faded from her eyes while she struggled to push their child into the world. He’d known something was wrong and was terrified to leave her side. He’d seen animals give birth but none had screamed or bled as much as Madeline did.

  He’d lost his whole world that day when she gave up the fight – taking their baby with her. He remembered screaming and crying, rocking her body as the baby sagged onto the mattress once her muscles had gone limp. The cord was wrapped around his son’s neck and he would never forget the sight of them both that day.

  He put his hands on his forehead and ran his fingers back and forth through his hair, like he was trying to shake loose the images that haunted him. As the sunlight streamed into his room, he looked around, trying to get his bearings. This wasn’t his normal nightmare where he was trapped in the dark as a young boy. He’d hated those dreams as a child. He wasn’t in their cabin staring at the bloodied bedroom or their corpses. No, Cade was at the boarding house in Denver.

  Normally, he slept under the stars trying to clear his mind, but Archie had called him into town for a new assignment. He hoped this one panned out because he had to turn down the last two offers due to him being pressed for a new partner.

  He didn’t want a new partner and didn’t want to have to be responsible for anyone else in his life. They’d come up with a cockamamie notion a few years back that you had to be married to your partner and he couldn’t imagine anyone in his life but Madeline. She was sweet as spun sugar and delicate as a snowflake - the exact opposite of Cade.

  He was reckless, aggressive, and numb to the world around him. He felt like a giant around his wife, making him even more protective of her. He was tall, almost brushing the tops of the door frames with his reddish-brown hair. There would never be another woman like Madeline, nor did he have any intention of replacing her or
his child.

  Deep down inside, he knew how this meeting would go. Archie would smile and make small talk while Marianne hovered nearby. The woman was uncanny in her ability to read people – almost as good as Archibald was. They would tell him about the mission and then begin to introduce the finer qualities of his partner. This is where he would stop the discussion and go back to helping out where he could on the outskirts of town.

  For some reason, the two had it in their minds that the male Pinkerton agents should be partnered with a woman in order to train and protect them. If they needed protection, maybe they shouldn’t be endangering themselves, he thought wryly as he splashed water on his face during his morning ablutions. Cade finished getting ready and walked out of the door to his room. There was no better time to get this over with than right now. He needed a change of scenery and staying within the four walls here in Denver only served as a reminder of that horrifying night.

  “Mrs. Jameson, may I call you Gillian?” Archie said smoothly, making Gillian’s skin get goosebumps almost instantly. She felt like the two people in the room were analyzing her every movement, her words, for the slightest reason to reject her.

  “Of course. I find it so much easier to drop formalities, don’t you Archie?” she said lightly, cocking her head to the side and trying hard not to stare as the secretary named Marianne stood nearby and smiled.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Perfect,” Gillian chimed in lightly. “So, when do I get started? What is my first assignment?”

  “Whoa there,” Archie said chuckling. “We need to discuss a few things to make sure you will make an ideal partner for the Pinkerton Agency.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as your past,” he replied honestly, watching her with that shrewd look. Her goosebumps now had goosebumps of their own. Gillian met his gaze levelly. She would not allow anyone or anything to dissuade her from the path she believed she was destined to be on. There had to be a reason that she met that couple on the anniversary of Michael’s death. In her mind and soul, she felt like her husband was guiding her from the beyond.