An Agent for Penelope
The Pinkerton Matchmaker #38
Christine Sterling
Table of Contents
License Note
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Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
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License Note
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Dedication
For the Pinkerton Matchmaker Readers.
I appreciate you supporting each of the authors in the Pinkerton Matchmaker series. It has been so much fun to write these stories for you, our readers.
Your words of encouragement and excitement about the next book in the series, keeps us going!
Marianne’s story is coming next, but I crafted her twin sister just for you!
Acknowledgements
Always Jesus. In everything I do.
My husband, Dan, who puts up with my crazy writing schedule. Especially when I’m in the cave all weekend. I love you, babe.
My beautiful children, Rebecca, Nora and Elizabeth who inspire me every day.
A special thank you to the following readers that gave me many suggestions for what to name the church/cult in this book! You are the best. Donna Beckham, Cerissa Bouie, Becky Bowen, Debra Brigden, Tammie Brigner, Mareesa Cunneen, Rosie Glenn, Elizabeth Halliday-Tyler, Chauncil Hawkins, Misty Hazard, Gail Henderson, Virgie Johnson, Barbi Kelley, Jhommie Kem-ing, Eileen Kolick, Nati Lopez, Beth Lyons, Robin Malek, Renate Pennington, Larry Perkins, Jessy Shields-Dulaney, Margie Shoemaker, Katy-Jo Vasbinder, George Weitemeyer, Glenna Wheat, Bonnie Wheeler, Carolyn Withrow, and Shelby Young.
#EditorsRock – Totally could not do this without my editors Carolyn and Amy. You are incredible!
#BetaReadersRule – thank you to George W., Cindy E. and Marcia M. for reading a very rough draft and providing concise feedback. I appreciate you!
Chapter 1
September 1871
The Great Plains, Nebraska
If Penny Chapman had to listen to one more word from their visitor, she was going to try to drown herself in the beautiful china teacup she held in her hands. Instead, she nodded and pretended to pay attention.
Her younger sister Alice, however, had no such problem. She sat on the ground next to the settee and hung on every word that Silas Benson offered. Penny looked at Alice and took another sip of the tea in her cup, grimacing as the liquid had turned cool.
Her mother had invited the young evangelist to tea after Sunday services. He was visiting from New York on his way out west to save sinners from themselves.
He had been the guest preacher at their church for the past month. Everyone thought extremely highly of him, apart from Penny. There was something she just couldn’t put her finger on.
He had dark brown hair he wore parted down the middle and slicked back with pomade. He was clean shaven apart from his hairy upper lip. She thought it looked like one of the barn rats was resting under his nose.
The man had to be close to 30, a few years older than Penny. He wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t swoon-worthy either.
Marmee would say she had been reading too many novels to use such words.
Penny would rather be in her room reading, than sitting in the parlor trying to make mindless conversation.
Penny sighed. She had dreamed of what her future husband might look like. He would be dashing, clean shaven, a true gentleman. He would tell her how ardently he admired and loved her.
Thank you, Jane Austen.
But Penny knew she wouldn’t get married. She would be hard pressed to find men such as Mr. Darcy or Captain Wentworth. So, she affirmed that she would remain a maid the rest of her life if necessary, rather than lower her standards.
Penny looked at her younger sister. If she didn’t know better, she would think her sister was infatuated. Silas was too old for Alice, so she dismissed the thought without further ado.
Alice was eighteen years old. Her long blonde hair fell in ringlets down her back, secured with a blue ribbon that matched her dress. She was leaning on her elbows, her chin cupped in her hands. She looked like a young schoolgirl, not a nearly grown woman.
Alice was the youngest of the Chapman siblings, and somewhat coddled. She was the delight of the family and could do no wrong. Penny sighed. It must come with being the youngest.
In the family, there were five brothers. Twins Owen and Oliver were the oldest followed by Caleb, Michael, and Everett. Unfortunately, Michael was killed in a gunfight somewhere near Denver.
The family received a telegram from Marianne who had followed him out to Denver, but not much else was said. Penny still didn’t know what happened. She was eighteen at the time; the same age as Alice was now. Penny found it hard to believe that was 7 years ago.
After the boys, came the Chapman girls. Penny and Marianne. After their brother’s death, Marianne never came home. And now Marianne was working as a secretary for the Pinkerton Detective Agency in Denver.
Finally came baby Alice.
Penny and Marianne were identical twins. Penny was not quite a minute older, and rarely let Marianne forget it. They may have looked the same: pale skin with a smattering of freckles along their noses, green eyes and curly red hair that couldn’t be tamed. But that is where the similarity ended. They were as different as night and day. Marianne was impulsive, headstrong and adventurous; whereas Penny was reserved, cautious and timid.
Oh, how she yearned to be bold! Where Marianne was always out with her brothers climbing trees and performing feats of daring, like crossing the tree that fell across the creek. Penny stayed indoors and tended to her sewing and book learning.
Since Marianne refused to be dressed in pinafores and bows, Mrs. Chapman gave up and turned all her attention to Penny. There were days Penny would be sitting at the window watching Marianne tie up her brothers in a game of cowboys and Indians.
Penny longed to be out there, but instead, she was stuck indoors reading Austen, Tennison and Wordsworth and learning mathematics. She wished Marmee didn’t drill into her that ladies should not be climbing trees, crossing creeks and ruining their clothes.
Penny sighed. Sometimes it was hard to be a lady, but she certainly did try her best.
“Penelope?” Mrs. Chapman asked. “Are you going to answer Mr. Benson?”
Penny placed her tea down and looked at the man who directed the question. “Please forgive me. I missed the question. What did you ask
?”
“I asked how you enjoyed the services this morning, Miss Chapman? We had another ten souls saved today! It is so exciting.”
“Oh!” Penny clasped her hands together. “It was so … so…” She looked at Alice. “Help me, poppet?”
“Enthusiastic?” Alice offered hopefully.
Penny patted her sister on the shoulder. “Enthusiastic. What a grand word. Yes, Mr. Benson, I found them enthusiastic. You certainly have a way with the gospel.” She pumped her fist in the air. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it preached with such vim and vigor before! And to reach those ten people, it is truly a blessing.”
Silas Benson beamed under the praise. “That is such a compliment coming from you, Miss Chapman.” He looked out the window. “It is such a lovely day outside; would you care to take a walk?”
Penny stilled. “Would it be proper? I mean, as a clergy, should you be escorting an unmarried woman?”
Silas grinned. “We will remain in perfect view of your mother and sister.”
Penny gave an awkward giggle, which Silas must have taken for compliance, as he stood and offered her his outstretched hand.
Penny bit the inside of her cheek. “Well…”
“Really, Penny?” Alice interrupted, rolling her eyes. “What are you so worried about. He is a preacher after all.”
She couldn’t think of a reason why she should refuse him. She placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her up. He wrapped her arm through his and placed a hand on top of hers.
Penny gave a backwards glance as they headed out into the garden. Her mother was there, shooing them away as if she was snapping a sheet from the clothesline.
“Go on,” Mrs. Chapman whispered. “It is a lovely day outside.”
Penny allowed Silas to lead her into the garden. Her father had taken great care in crafting a garden for her mother. The Nebraska soil was very wet in the range land, so her father took great care building raised beds with ample drainage.
The flower boxes connected, forming a pattern of a square with a cross in the middle.
Mrs. Chapman would spend hours among the flowers. Penny loved the garden too. She would sit on one of the benches and read.
“It is much cooler here than back home,” Silas said.
“Where is home, Mr. Benson? I know you are from New York, originally.”
“Actually, I’m from Tennessee. I moved to the upper part of New York when I was called to preach the gospel.”
“Are you near the canal?”
“The Erie one?”
Penny nodded. She had just read about the Erie Canal in one of the books a traveling salesman brought around. It fascinated her that goods could be moved from the ocean into the lakes bordering the northern states.
“Close to it. I’m afraid the winters there get very cold.” Penny didn’t say anything. “I heard your sister call you Penny.”
“She has done it since childhood. My siblings picked up on it and they call me that as well.” She looked at Silas. Better stop any hopes he might have, right now, she thought. “I prefer Penelope. Or Miss Chapman.”
“Penelope is truly a beautiful name,” he said, patting her hand and pulling her closer to his side. Penny tried to wriggle her hand loose, but he held firm. “What kind of plant is this?” he asked, pointing to a small shrub with bright red leaves on top.
Penny took advantage of the situation and withdrew her hand from his grasp. She walked over and touched the top of the bush. “I believe it is called a burning bush, after the bush Moses encountered in the Bible.”
“Hmmm,” he said thoughtfully. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It is a beautiful plant. But certainly not as beautiful as you.” He reached out to touched one of Penny’s curls. Penny quickly ducked out of his way and continued up the garden, two steps in front of him.
“How long are you staying in our little town, Mr. Benson?”
Silas quickly caught up with her and adjusted his jacket as he resumed walking at her pace. “Only a little bit longer. I’ve been invited to save souls in San Francisco.”
“Are there many souls that need saving out there, Mr. Benson?”
“Yes, there are. San Francisco is filled with the most wretched of society. Folks from all over the world congregate there and it is my job to go out and find those lost lambs.”
“I’m sure you will do a splendid job. I know our congregation will miss you when you are gone.”
Penny saw a grin break out underneath the sleeping rat. “Will you miss me, Penny?”
“Penelope,” she corrected, shrugging. She looked at Silas. “Do you leave soon? You definitely want to leave before the snows come.” Traveling in Nebraska was near impossible in the winter with the heavy snowfalls.
Silas sighed. “I will actually be leaving as soon as I take care of some urgent business here in town.” He reached over and plucked a blossom from one of the anemone plants and handed it to Penny.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the plant and holding the fragrant flower to her nose.
“I don’t think I have ever seen such a variety of plants as there are in this garden.”
“Father obtained quite a few of them in his travels. Some are from the orient, like that burning bush and this flower,” she said, twirling the stem between her fingers. She continued walking down the path, the silence being broken by the sound of the gravel crunching underneath their boots.
“I was wondering if I might ask you a question, Penelope.”
Penny stopped. She dug her heels into the gravel. She looked at Silas but didn’t offer a response.
He cleared his throat and adjusted his tie as if it was too tight around his neck. “It is an honor to be appointed as Minister for the Church of the Highest Truth.”
“Is that what it’s called? Church of the Highest Truth.” Penny wanted to roll her eyes, but instead she forced her mouth up into a slight smile.”
“Yes. Abraham Price himself has asked me to come out and take up permanent residence in San Francisco.” Penny didn’t have an inkling who Abraham Price could be. He must be of some importance; however, the way Silas said his name reverently. “Of course,” he continued. “I will need a wife.”
“A wife?” Penny repeated.
“Yes,” Silas captured Penny’s hand in his own and gave it a kiss on the back of the palm. “If you haven’t noticed, you have captured my attention.”
Penny snatched her hand back, lifting her fingers to her neck. “I don’t know what to say Mr. Benson.”
“Say yes,” he said grabbing both of her hands this time. “And call me Silas, darling.”
Penny looked back towards the house. She could see her sister pressed against the window glass. Her nose reminded Penny of one of the suckling pigs in the barn. Alice’s eyes narrowed as she looked at her through the window. She moved away, leaving an oily print on the glass.
Penny turned her eyes back to the man confessing his affections. “I can’t marry you, Mr. Benson. I don’t ever intend on marrying anyone.”
The following morning Penny was sipping a cup of tea and eating toast when her mother came in the dining room. Penny laid her book aside and motioned for her mother to sit down.
Mrs. Chapman picked up a teacup from the sideboard and slid into the seat next to Penny. Penny poured tea for her mother as she picked up the book and looked at it.
“Lady Susan?” her mother asked, placing the book back down. “I’m not familiar with that one.”
“Jane Austen wrote it in the 1790s, but it wasn’t published until 2 years ago. I was fortunate the book seller had a copy on him when he came last year.”
Mrs. Chapman took a sip of her tea. “You do love to read.” Penny gave her a little smile and nodded.
“Would you like some toast, Marmee?” Penny lifted her plate, offering a piece to her mother.
Marmee took a piece and ate it while she looked out the window. “Did you see Alice this morning?”
Penny shook her
head. “I know she went to bed late last night. I heard her knocking about in her room.”
Her mother looked at the watch pinned to her shirtwaist. “I’ll give her thirty-more minutes and then I’ll go get her. Normally she is up by now.”
It was rather late, but not too late. It was only eight o’clock in the morning. Normally the Chapman ladies were up by six o’clock to start the day. Penny helped her momma keep house; and Alice would finish her studies during the day.
As for the Chapman men, they worked the cattle ranch. They were known as the finest suppliers of black angus beef cattle in Nebraska. But it didn’t start that way.
When the family first came to Nebraska, her father laid claim to 500 acres of land under the homesteader’s act. The first years were hard as the land was dry and droughts were plentiful.
Then he made his fortune in the railroad after the civil war which enabled him to invest in 25 head of cattle. Which grew to 100; then 200, and now they had over 1,000 cows and calves grazing over a good portion of the Great Plains.
Marmee finished her toast and clapped her hands to remove the crumbs. “I should go check on Alice. If she is unwell, I’ll need to know to send for the doctor.”
“Let me do it, Marmee,” Penny said, standing to take her dish and cup to the kitchen. Marmee nodded and continued to look out the window. Penny quickly put the dishes in the bucket of hot soapy water and headed down the hall to her sister’s room.
She knocked but didn’t hear any response, so she opened the door and peeked inside. There was a lump in the middle of Alice’s bed, but Penny didn’t think it resembled her sister at all – Alice normally slept with her arms and legs extended.
Penny knew that from when they had to share a bed because Marianne was sick, and Penny refused to stay in the same room with her. The lump in the bed looked just like that – a lump.
“Rise and shine, Miss Lazybones. Marmee thought you’d be down by now.” Penny went and grabbed one corner of the spread, flipping it back to reveal her sister underneath.
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