An Agent for Gillian

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An Agent for Gillian Page 10

by Ginny Sterling


  “You know I love ya, wren,” Rourke whispered painfully, “…but I canna watch you endanger yourself. If something ever happened - I would die a thousand deaths knowing I’d let ya down, luv.”

  “He’s right you know,” Gillian whispered, feeling her throat close as she glanced at Cade. Her partner was staring at her with an unfathomable look in his eyes as he nodded.

  “We both have lost someone and that grief is nothing you could ever imagine,” Cade uttered, extending his hand towards Gillian’s. He covered her delicate hand with his, almost in a protective manner. It spoke volumes to her, because it was the first time he truly showed any support or show of affection other than their single shared kiss.

  “Nothing has to be decided now,” Gillian agreed, her eyes locked with his, “but you have your whole future ahead of you and this is something that would affect you both. You should talk about it once things calm down here and you are both safe.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Rourke,” Fallon said gently, touching his arm. “We can discuss this later but for right now, we need to make plans to be on the train out of town when the Malones leave on Friday.”

  “Three more days,” he said gruffly, nodding. “Friday canna come soon enough.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Cade replied.

  Gillian was relieved that it was almost time for them to leave town. She was on edge and thankfully Cade had made the pretense of gathering together his things last evening after dinner. He didn’t finish putting away everything, but rather started the process and then stopped.

  She was growing to like being around him. The past few evenings, they’d spent hours talking before retreating to their individual beds. He’d been a perfect gentleman with her and never crossed the line between them. He asked what she did during the day when she was alone, which surprised her. It was something that Michael had never done before. He’d asked how she was, they’d chatted about dinner, but he never asked how she was doing or what was on her mind. Cade seemed to always wonder.

  “Are you nervous?”

  “I’d be a fool not to be.”

  “I know. I can tell you are tense and anxious about leaving.”

  “It’s not the leaving. I’m worried something will happen before we go,” she admitted. “I worry that I’ll run into Kehoe somewhere in town or that the Molly Maguires will come hunt us down.”

  “We haven’t taken any chances. I would never risk endangering either of us by writing to ‘Uncle Archie’ as Archie had recommended to throw anyone off the scent of the trail. I’m sure Archie is going stir-crazy waiting for word, but the Mollies must have someone on the inside if they are suspecting McKenna.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you alright?”

  “You realize you’ve asked me that three times tonight?”

  “Maybe I just want to be really sure,” he chuckled and glanced up at her in the firelight. She saw his impish smile and that dimple in his cheek as he watched her stitch closed a seam on his pants. He’d torn the knee yesterday and she’d offered quickly to mend it. It felt so very cozy for the two of them to be sitting together like this. There wasn’t a widow and widower, nor two agents… it was simply Cade and Gillian.

  “Maybe you should ask me again,” she smiled softly at him before sticking out her tongue. He laughed again and arched his neck, rubbing it and wincing.

  “Are you alright?”

  “Just sore,” he admitted. “I have to stoop quite a bit at the mines because the ceiling is so low.”

  Gillian instantly put her sewing down and got to her feet without a thought. She almost laughed as Cade leaned away from her warily.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Sit back and relax,” she ordered, swatting him gently on the shoulder. “I’m going to try to loosen up your muscles just a bit.”

  “It’s okay,” he stammered and launched himself forward in an attempt to stand up out of the ladderback chair he was sitting in. Gillian grabbed the back of his shirt collar to stop him. He quickly spun around and glanced at her in surprise as the material twisted.

  “What are you afraid of? Let me help you.”

  “I’m not afraid. It’s just not necessary. A good night’s sleep will take care of it,” he argued and then winced again before smiling sheepishly. “But maybe you are right.”

  “Of course, I am – sit down!”

  Cade sat back down and Gillian immediately laid her cool fingers on his warm neck underneath the collar. She felt her face flush as she rubbed along his spine and massaged the knots she felt. Clearing her throat nervously, she moved her hands onto the material of his shirt and rubbed his shoulders. This wasn’t any better for her – if anything - it was worse. She was keenly aware of how broad and muscular his shoulders were and the way they felt under her fingertips.

  “Gillian, I think that’s enough,” Cade said in a voice that turned her stomach inside out. “Unless you are wanting me to kiss you again… perhaps we should just go back to talking. I’ll be fine.”

  She found herself hesitating for several moments. The air was tense around them as neither of them moved. It was obviously telling that she was torn. It was the heated look in his eyes when he slowly turned his head to glance at her that caused her to step back and take her seat quickly.

  Thankfully, Cade didn’t say a word. He just looked away and got to his feet, walking into the bedroom. They had been giving each other a wide berth and this would be no different.

  She waited for quite a while there, alone, as she finished mending his pants and listening to him move about before finally she heard the bed frame creak, indicating he was in his bed.

  Flushing with embarrassment, she accidently stabbed her finger with the needle. The sharp prick of pain caused her to bite her lip as she quickly put her finger in her mouth. Wincing, she quickly knotted off the thread and folded his pants, setting them on the chair he’d been sitting in. Dousing the lamps, she padded silently into the room and quickly climbed into her own bed - fully dressed once again and facing the wall.

  Chapter 12

  Early the next morning, Gillian awoke and finished preparations around the house. She gathered up her things and stuffed them into her bag, which she placed under her bed out of view. Nothing would keep them from getting on that train tomorrow… together, she thought. Today was the last day she would have to pretend like nothing was different.

  Unfortunately - that would be a challenge.

  Gillian and Fallon were supposed to participate in the quilting bee that the ladies held at the church. If they failed to show, it would reveal that something was amiss. It would be better to face the group head on and try to keep things on an even keel, rather than be at home and get cornered or caught alone.

  Walking up to Fallon’s home, she saw the dark-haired beauty step out from the house and waved in greeting. The two hugged each other in camaraderie born of fear, friendship, and desperation. They’d confessed to each other that they were scared – it was a fearsome thing to have heard that a man went missing yesterday in town and there were whispers that McKenna was to blame. Gillian knew deep in her heart that the man she’d met seemed like such a decent man – but John Kehoe was another matter together. He scared her.

  “Are you ready to go?” Gillian whispered softly as they walked.

  “Oh yes! In fact, Rourke said he didn’t want to raise any alarm with him being out so early that he said he might come and sleep on the back porch of the house so things are proper but he’s near. He’s afraid for my safety.”

  “Cade is for me as well.”

  “Do you regret doing this…” Fallon asked, waving her hands. Gillian smiled as she realized the woman didn’t want to say the word Pinkerton aloud in case someone overheard them.

  “Never,” she said with a firm intensity. She didn’t regret it. She hated that Michael’s death had caused her life to turn down another path – but it was one of her choosing. “It’s brought me new friend
s, a new outlook, and…”

  “A new husband.”

  “Yes. A new husband.”

  “I’ve never been on a train,” Fallon admitted.

  “It’s quite exhilarating. We’ll sit together and have a grand time of it in order to keep our minds off of things,” Gillian promised. “Now, we’ve got to get through today and keep our wits about us.”

  “Exactly.”

  As the duo stepped inside the church, she saw a large amount of chairs gathered around a circle. Strewn across their laps was a massive quilt that was a bevy of colors. Great interlocking rings were made from multiple colored blocks on a white background. Fallon clenched her hand suddenly, making her look up at her friend.

  “Gillian, it’s our quilt,” Fallon breathed happily, hugging her again. “Thank you for bringing it today. I’ve so wanted to get this one finished and its one less thing standing between Rourke and I getting married.”

  “This one is yours?”

  “Yes. The ladies and I started this quilt when Rourke first proposed to me. He’d said he’d marry me when it was finished,” Fallon began and then rolled her dark eyes playfully. “… then it was when he wanted to buy some land. Then he said he’d marry me once we had a house. I’m starting to wonder if he’s scared to get married?”

  “Rourke doesn’t seem the shy type,” Gillian teased.

  “He’s a tender soul.”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “Fallon, please introduce us all to your friend and have a seat dear. We’ll get this almost finished in no time with all hands working on the quilt,” a woman said near the far end of the gathering. She was lovely with a kind face, large brown eyes, and dark hair that was pulled back in a severe bun.

  “Mary Ann, this is Gillian Malone. Her husband works with Rourke up at the mine.”

  “Malone… Malone…” Mary Ann said thoughtfully, tapping her chin and looking up at the rafters of the church pensively. “Where have I heard that name before?”

  “I’m not sure,” Gillian said sweetly, taking a seat beside Fallon who’d just sat down. “It’s not too uncommon a name but maybe word gets around that we’ve settled in recently. My husband was looking for work and I was looking for a community that reminded me of home.”

  “And Shenandoah is it?”

  “So far yes,” she admitted, picking up a needle and threading it deftly. “I love a small town that centers around the people.”

  “That’s us,” Mary Ann confirmed. “The town focuses on family, faith, and heritage – and it all revolves around the mine. That’s the very center of our town and provides so much to so many families.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  Everyone began to chat amongst themselves and it was as if finding Mary Ann’s favor ensured Gillian would fit in. She was the unspoken leader of the group and so long as Gillian stayed off the radar, she could pass the day away stitching with the women before heading home.

  One more night here in town.

  That was all.

  Time passed and Gillian listened to the conversations around them, simply trying to see if anything came up in conversation that they could use when they reported back to Archie in Denver. She was pretty sure he would pass on Molasses cookies and recipes for liniment. The quilt would be lovely and she wanted to ask Fallon if she was taking it with her or leaving it – but now wasn’t the time or place to say such things.

  “Oh yes,” Mary Ann said suddenly, looking straight at Gillian as if she could hear her rebellious thoughts. “I remember now. My husband was telling me of a new man at the mine. That had to be your husband. Is his name Cade – Cade Malone?”

  “Yes it is.”

  “Ah ha! Yes, my husband loves to talk about family, history, and heritage – studies his family line and is quite proud of it. He didn’t recognize the name locally and it had him puzzled at dinner the other evening. You see…” Mary Ann hesitated and smiled sweetly at Gillian, making her blood run cold.

  “Kehoe isn’t a common name but one my husband can trace back on his family tree over two hundred years easily. Maybe you’ve met my husband? He is John Kehoe and very well known in these parts. He’s part of the Ancient Order of Hibernians and has even met with the president of the railroad, Mr. Gowen. Are you and your husband union supporters?”

  Gillian’s heart pounded and she was positive that all the blood in her body had just pooled down in her feet right now. This was John Kehoe’s wife? The sweet, innocent look apparently was an act and she was just as sharp as her husband.

  “To be quite honest,” Gillian said carefully, trying to keep any emotion from escaping, “my husband and I haven’t spoken about it – but as any good wife I would defer to his decisions. I’m sure he is learning all he can before he chooses a side. We wouldn’t want to make the wrong decision, would we?”

  “I should say not.”

  “The mines are dangerous beyond belief and my husband is working diligently for better working conditions and fair wages. For some reason, this makes him, my John, so very misunderstood,” Mary Ann said calmly. “He works so hard and is threatened constantly by outsiders who don’t understand our lifestyle here in the hills. Mines are a threat to the people working inside of them at any given moment – but you know that. In fact, aren’t your loved ones there now?”

  Gillian didn’t say a word. She couldn’t. Her throat felt like someone had a stranglehold on it at the barely contained threat in the woman’s softly spoken words. Fallon sat unmoving beside Gillian and she was almost afraid to look at Fallon for fear of giving themselves away.

  Instead, she sat there around the quilt frame that was spread across their laps as they sat in a circle. A loud roaring rumble seemed to shake the very church they were sitting in. A soul-jarring sound that her mind didn’t seem to grasp right away. It couldn’t! The noise was increasing in sound, utterly deafening… and close.

  Alarmed, she looked around and saw the other women’s faces pale – especially Mary Ann’s. The woman’s face was stricken with disbelief and regret.

  “That thunder was really loud,” Gillian said awkwardly, desperate for someone to say otherwise than what she feared and dreaded. Seeing Mary Ann rise to her feet just as Fallon collapsed beside her in a dead faint from her seat was all the confirmation she needed.

  “It wasn’t thunder,” Mary Ann uttered painfully, almost an admission of guilt in the room, but before anyone could say anything – Gillian heard something even more horrifying: a real nightmare for Cade was spoken aloud on the streets. He’d revealed the secret during one of their chats on the train and it had struck her that such a large, fierce man could be afraid of the dark – and now he was trapped there.

  “Cave in!”

  The words were screamed from outside of the house and she twisted in her seat to see men running down the center of the town. She now understood why there was such stricken looks of horror on the women’s faces. The mine was where most of the families earned their income.

  It was where Cade was right now.

  “No,” she uttered, getting to her feet, only to have her knees buckle underneath her. Gillian caught the open window sill to keep herself from falling in a puddle onto the floor. Trembling, she got up and sure enough – there was a cloud of debris slowly drifting into the streets around them like a dingy fog.

  “Noooo,” she breathed, repeating it over and over again. She could hear the crying beginning around her. Fallon was unresponsive on the floor, practically yanking her once bridal quilt with her as she clutched it unconsciously in her hand, collapsed onto the floor.

  The quilt was once going to be an homage to the upcoming wedding of Fallon and Rourke – but he was in the mines just like everyone else. This quilt would be a crushing reminder of this day, or a horrifying burial shroud depending on what the cave in revealed later in the day.

  Gillian didn’t want to say goodbye to anyone ever again – much less Cade. She’d grown to adore the big lummox and surely she wasn’t des
tined again to lose another husband. Getting to her feet, she used the wall to remain upright as she got to the door of the house.

  One step at a time, Gillian thought and made her body step forward faster and faster. She could see people on their knees praying in the streets and men at the entrance of the mine moving the rock.

  Cade was in there!

  “What are you doing?”

  “We are praying for their safety.”

  “They’re NOT safe right now,” Gillian snapped. “Get up and help us.”

  “You should pray with us.”

  “And you should be moving rocks with the rest of us.”

  She took off in a flat run, ignoring the stabbing sensation in her side from trying to catch her breath as she headed up the hill to where the men were moving the stones. They were lifting and throwing them off to the side as quickly as possible. She arrived at where the entrance to the cave once was and without asking or saying a word, began to pick up stones too.

  Some were small, easily moved, and others were the size of pumpkins or larger. Her brain was not working right now, only running on sheer instinct. She kept thinking in her mind rescue Cade over and over again, praying that he was alive on the other side of the wall of rock.

  Her fingernails were broken and jagged, the skin of her knuckles torn and bleeding from shoving them into the mess and yanking with all of her might. The rocks and debris were moving slowly, and occasionally it would send a shower of debris onto the ground. She didn’t care. She had to get to him.

  “Miss, we can do this.”

  “It’s Missus,” she corrected, grabbing another handful of dirt and rocks. She was moving more, putting her hands together and yanking back painfully. It was sending dirt all over her and she had to keep standing up to shake it off. The idea of being buried alive was not something her mind could grasp and she could only imagine what Cade was going through right now.

  “My husband is in there.”

  “As well as my son,” the older man said gently, pulling on Gillian’s arm and looking her square in the eyes. “I’ve lost one already that was crushed to death. I don’t want to lose another one.”

 

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