“Jeremy, grab me more bandages,” she ordered as she hurried through her brother’s room, trying to locate a cravat and scissors. When she found one, she took it back to Walter and tied it tight around his thigh.
She’d been but a young girl of five when she assisted her mother while they helped the injured soldiers from the war, and as she unwrapped the bloody bandages from Walter’s leg, it seemed like yesterday that she’d listened to her mother’s commands as they worked in the hospital. “And boil me some water. His wounds must be cleaned before infection sets in.”
The war hadn’t only been awful for the men fighting in the battlefields, but for the women back home that had to protect their homes, livestock, and food supply. Frances’ mother’s kind heart had placed her in the hospital, caring for the injured, and because there was nobody home to watch Frances, she accompanied her mother.
As memories of yesteryear filled her head, she cut open his trousers near the wound and finished cleaning it before wrapping bandages around his leg. Soon, she was cleaning up the mess both she and Jeremy had made. It surprised her when she hadn’t remembered that Walter was the one responsible for all of this. From what she’d gathered, he knew about the dynamite, which made him evil. And yet, she’d put that aside to tend to his wounds.
Guilt settled in her chest. Did that mean she approved of what they were doing? And yet, her mother had selflessly helped the injured soldiers from the north without a word of complaint or bitterness.
“I thank you, Miss Carlton,” Walter said sincerely. He appeared weak as he rested against the pillow. “I owe you my gratitude for saving my life.”
She nodded. “Mr. Shipp, I just pray infection doesn’t set it.”
“I’m sure it won’t.”
While she studied him fighting sleep, a thought sprang into her mind. She had just established a relationship with the man suspected of wrongdoings. Walter would never trust Vincent since everyone knew he was a Pinkerton Agent – and the sheriff, of course. Because she’d helped Walter, maybe, just maybe she would get information from him that Vincent couldn’t. It was worth a try.
This might be the very thing she needed to get on Vincent’s good side.
VINCE LEANED FORWARD on his desk with his elbows resting on the hardwood. He rubbed his throbbing forehead, feeling helpless and unimaginative. Why was he even a Pinkerton agent when he couldn’t figure out what to do next?
Nineteen people had been injured. Two dead. This shouldn’t have happened today. Vince should have been more alert to everything around him. Instead, he had visions about the woman he’d kissed so passionately.
Why couldn’t he get her out of his thoughts? And what made it worse was that she kept showing up, trying to help him. As if he needed her help. As if he needed anyone to help him. And yet, he hated to admit it, but he did need help. This was the first time his mind had been blank. He had no clue who to talk to about the blast. Those who’d been nearby were injured, so he couldn’t ask them yet. If only he’d gotten to know the town better. If only he’d taken the time to meet everyone and become their friend, but he’d been too wrapped up in his own miseries and problems. He should have been a better man. A better agent.
The day had passed quickly, and night was upon him. Although time was slipping by with nothing being done, he didn’t have the energy to change that.
The front door to the sheriff’s office opened, but he didn’t look up. He was mentally and physically weary. Were sheriffs allowed to have closed signs to hang on their doors?
Soft clicking of hurried steps on the wooden floor let him know that a woman had entered. Before he lifted his head, he smelled her fragrance. Oddly enough, Frances’ perfume had calmed him.
“Vincent,” she said just before she touched his arm.
He lifted his head and looked at her. She was closer than he first figured as she leaned toward him and stroked his scruffy face. But his facial whiskers must have not bothered her, because her palm continued to cradle his cheek.
“How are you holding up?” She knelt beside his chair, dropping her hand from his face and sliding it along his chest.
“How am I?” He chuckled and shook his head. “Sadly enough, I’m not doing as well as I should be. This town needs me, and yet, all I can do is hide in my office and pray that a great idea will come to me soon.”
She frowned and tenderly clasped his hand. “Vincent, something happened when I returned home. I think it can help this case.”
Warmth from her touch generated more confusion in his head, yet it also softened his heart. He wished she would leave him alone and stop bothering him about becoming a Pinkerton agent, however, her presence relaxed him in the oddest way.
She’d changed clothes and the peach gown with the sewn-in lacy shawl fit the curves of her body to perfection. The color made her brown eyes darker... more alluring. He was tired of fighting the growing attraction between them. Especially now when he didn’t have the strength to do anything.
“Do you know what will help this case?” he asked, grasping her arms and pulling her up as he moved his chair around until she stood between his legs. “There is really only one thing at this particular moment that can help ease my mind about this case.” He pulled her down to his lap and wrapped an arm around her, keeping her in place. His other hand cupped the back of her head, easing her mouth toward his. “Do you know what that is, Frances?”
Her body was stiff at first, but then she relaxed against him, pressing her bosom against his chest as her gaze dropped to his mouth.
“No,” she whispered huskily.
“Then please, allow me to show you.”
Her eager mouth was seeking his before he even had the chance to capture it. But once their lips met, excitement shot through him as heat followed closely behind. Her lips were so tender, so passionate, that he couldn’t concentrate on anything but enjoying himself with her. He wanted to make her heart sing since his was lifting high in a loud chorus right now.
Vince shifted her body on his lap slightly until he was cradling her. Her hand rubbed his chest and moved to his neck. She ran her fingertips along his skin, igniting more heat into him. Her touch was so tender, so sweet. It took all of his willpower not to sigh in happiness.
He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, which she fully accepted. The way she responded had his head twirling out of control. It had been so long since he’d felt this way, which made him enjoy the moment even more.
This really wasn’t the place – or the time – to kiss a woman so passionately. But Frances seemed to always be in the right place at the right moment lately. He really didn’t want to stop this closeness between them, but he knew if he continued that other things might happen. Besides, hadn’t she discovered something important that she wanted to inform him about the case?
“Frances,” he muttered with a heady sigh, breaking the kiss.
“Yes?”
His mouth trailed down her cheek to her neck. She tilted back her head. Inwardly, he groaned. She was just inviting trouble... the kind of trouble he had no energy to stop.
As he placed kisses on her neck, he inhaled her sweet fragrance. She always smelled so good, and now it was literally hypnotizing him.
“I wish... you weren’t so... distracting,” he muttered, pressing his mouth to her neck longer.
A deep sigh rattled from her throat. “I’m sorry?”
He chuckled silently and lifted his head enough to look at her face. Her eyes were closed. Her luscious mouth pulled into a grin. Sweet heavens, she looked so tempting.
“No. I don’t think you’re sorry at all.”
Her big brown eyes fluttered open and she met his gaze. Her smile widened as she slid her hands up his chest and linked her wrists around his neck.
“You’re correct, Vincent. I’m not sorry.”
This time, she was the first one to press her mouth against his. He groaned and pulled her closer, feeling like he couldn’t get enough. He’d never get enough of
her. She had purposely branded him with her sultry kisses, her mind-altering fragrance, and her heavenly laughter. She was either the devil’s daughter or an angel sent from up above.
Right now, he liked that she was a little of both.
“Miss Frances Carlton!” A loud woman’s gasp shattered the mood. “What are you doing?”
Both Vince and Frances jumped apart. As he stood, he assisted Frances to her feet, as well. Although they’d been caught in an embarrassing situation, Vince would do his best to try and smooth it over. Yet, once again, his mind wasn’t working.
Frances lifted a hand to her heaving bosom. Her face was bright red, clashing with the peach color of her gown.
“Mrs. Shumway? It’s not... Um, it’s not...”
He groaned. Fate must not like him very well. Why had they been caught by the town gossiper, Mrs. Rosie Shumway? His days were numbered, he had no doubt.
SIX
FRANCES’ SPINNING HEAD made it difficult to concentrate on the humiliation rushing through her. The kiss she’d shared with Vincent had been the most passionate kiss she’d ever experienced, and a split second later, she was trying to regain control.
Of all people to walk in on her and Vincent kissing like there was no tomorrow... why did it have to be Mrs. Shumway? By this time tomorrow, the whole town would know. Her name would be ruined. Unless...
The idea was ridiculous, and Vincent would definitely not go along with it. And she had no time to ask him, either. He’d hate her for even suggesting it, but he must realize that he would have to do the right thing in a situation like this. Or was he the type of man who didn’t care about ruining women’s reputations?
“Mrs. Shumway,” Frances’ voice broke and she cleared her throat. “What are you doing here?”
The middle-aged woman glared at Vincent through her wire spectacles. The woman’s face was as red as the shawl around her beige blouse. “Sheriff Brooks! You ought to be ashamed of yourself for ruining—”
“No, Mrs. Shumway,” Frances quickly cut her off. “You don’t understand. It’s not what you think.”
The older woman blinked with wide eyes. “Not what I think? Are you addled, Miss Carlton? You were in each other’s arms with your lips locked as steam wafted around you.” She shook her head. “I was once married, or have you forgotten that? Of course, I know what’s going on here. And because you have no parents to look after you, I feel it is my responsibility to step up when I see something amiss.”
Inwardly, Frances groaned. She peeked at Vincent who still looked shocked as he stared at the town gossipmonger. Frances had no other choice, and she prayed she could smooth it over sooner rather than later.
She looked back at Mrs. Shumway. “Yes, I’m aware of what you saw, Mrs. Shumway, but you see...” She swallowed hard. “The sheriff and I were having a private celebration. We just got engaged.”
“Engaged?” The other woman gasped.
Standing beside her, Vincent gasped too, as his head jerked toward her. His eyes were wider, and his face had lost a little color. She tried to communicate with him through her stare, but she doubted he was reading her thoughts right now.
His shocked expression would ruin it. Frances must do something now to help with the awkward situation. She quickly cuddled up against his arm and looked up at him, batting her eyelashes. When his gaze shifted to her, she smiled. “Isn’t that right?”
“Umm...” Vincent’s gaze bounced from Frances back to Mrs. Shumway, and then repeated the process.
Frances’ heartbeat thudded so loudly she was sure everyone in the room could hear.
“Well, Sheriff Brooks?” The woman stepped closer. “Is it true that you and Miss Carlton are engaged?”
His Adam’s apple jumped. “I, umm...” He licked his lips, finally meeting France’s silent plea. He took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, Mrs. Shumway, it’s true. Frances and I are engaged.”
Frances hadn’t felt so relieved until now. And yet, she didn’t dare make too much out of this moment. After all, she was certain she’d get an earful of Vincent’s temper once the older woman left.
The wrinkles in Mrs. Shumway’s face smoothed out and she smiled. “This is wonderful news.” She hurried to Frances and clasped her hands. “Your parents would be thrilled if they were still alive.”
Frances nodded. “I know they would have been.”
Mrs. Shumway gave Vincent a stubborn smile and arched her eyebrow. “You were very wise in your decision, Sheriff Brooks. Miss Carlton will make you a fine wife.”
“Yes, well...” He cleared his throat again and met Frances’ gaze. “I’m sure we’ll be very happy together.”
Sighing, Frances placed her palm on his chest. “I’m sure of it.”
“You make certain to tell me when the big day will be.” The woman grinned. “This will be a great event for a celebration.”
“Mrs. Shumway,” Vincent stopped the lady before she had left the office. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t spread our good news just yet. There was a tragic accident today. Many people were injured, and some were killed. Today wouldn’t be the best day for a wedding announcement.” He nodded. “I’m sure you understand.”
Mrs. Shumway hitched a breath and placed her hand on her chest. “Oh, most certainly, sheriff. And that reminds me of why I came in here.”
“What is it?”
“I cannot find Mr. Shipp, the owner of the bank. He’s a dear friend of my family’s, and I cannot locate him anywhere.”
“I appreciate you telling me, Mrs. Shumway. I’ll search for him tonight.”
“Thank you, Sheriff Brooks. You’ve been such a godsend.”
“Good evening,” he told the other woman.
Frances waited until the woman left the office before she released Vincent’s arm. She studied his expression as he stared toward the door. She wondered if he was too upset to look at her. She couldn’t blame him, but under the circumstances, he shouldn’t blame her either.
His forehead was furrowed, and his mouth was pulled tight into a straight line. Slowly, he inhaled and released his breath. Straightening his shoulders, he finally turned his whole body her way and stared into her eyes. His face wasn’t as red as it had been when they’d been caught, but his flaring nostrils let her know he was very upset.
“So... wife.”
Inwardly, she groaned. “Vincent, I’m sorry for doing that, but I couldn’t think of any other way to get ourselves out of that mess. Mrs. Shumway can’t hold a secret to save her life, and—”
“I know why you did it.” His voice was tight.
“And you’re still upset?”
Slowly, he nodded.
“But you cannot be mad. Or, had you figured out another way to get us out of that scandalous situation?”
“No, I can’t rightly say that I had a better idea.”
She huffed and folded her arms over her chest. “Then why are you still upset?”
“Because, Miss Carlton, you have been hinting at marriage since we kissed outside the bank last night.”
“Actually – to be precise – it was early this morning.” After she’d spoken the words, his scowl darkened. She groaned silently. Why couldn’t she hold her tongue?
“My point is,” he continued, “that you had marriage on your mind because you want to be a Pinkerton agent.”
“True, but it was the only solution.”
He stepped closer and grasped her shoulders. “Can you honestly tell me that you don’t want to get married?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. A defeated sigh escaped her. “But once again, Vincent, what would you have me do? We were caught in a very intimate position. We were kissing. I was sitting on your lap, for goodness sake.”
“You don’t have to remind me what I already know,” he snapped and walked to the window.
“But... my name could have been ruined,” she said softly.
He rubbed his forehead for a few silent moments. She didn
’t want to interrupt his thought process, especially if it took him a while to get to the location his thinker-train was taking him.
A slow sigh came from him and his shoulder wilted. “But you’re right.”
His words were so quiet, she wasn’t sure if she’d heard correctly. “What did you say?”
He threw her a glower over his shoulder. “You heard me.”
She gritted her teeth. So, if she was correct, then why was he throwing a tantrum like an adolescent boy? Was it possible that he didn’t like to admit it when he was wrong?
“All right, so...” She licked her dry lips. “What are we going to do about it?”
“Our engagement?” he wondered.
She nodded.
He turned and walked toward her. She took slow steps in retreat until his desk stopped her and her bottom landed on the edge. He stood over her, looking down into her eyes. She couldn’t tear her gaze away.
“I think, Miss Carlton, that I’ll let you think about what we’re going to do about it. After all, a Pinkerton agent thinks quickly, and has more than herself in mind when solving an issue.”
Were her ears deceiving her? Did he just refer to her as a soon-to-be Pinkerton agent? Slowly, the side of his mouth lifted in a teasing grin.
“Oh, Vincent!” She gasped and wrapped her arms around his neck, tilting her head back as she stared into his amazing eyes. “Do you mean it? I can be your partner?”
“I might as well train you since I can’t stop our wedding.”
Her excitement waned when his words shot through her heart. He couldn’t stop their wedding, which meant he didn’t want the wedding.
Disappointment twisted in her gut as she withdrew. She didn’t want him to know how his words hurt, so she gave him a fake smile. “I promise I’ll make you a good partner. You won’t be disappointed.”
“I’m sure you won’t disappoint me.”
His gaze briefly dropped to her mouth, and her heartbeat picked up rhythm, but before she knew what was happening, he turned and moved away from her. She sighed, trying to get her breathing to return to normal. She swiped her moist palms on the sides of her gown.
An Agent for Frances Page 4