Courting Misfortune

by Regina Jennings

  “Because Calista is a decorator?” Matthew asked. “Or is she a nurse? A florist? What are you all conspiring over? Why are you protecting her?”

  “Excuse me, sir.” How Maisie drawled out that last word to make it an insult was impressive. “If there was some conspiracy going on here, we’d hardly have a mind to tell you. We don’t know you from sic ’em. As far as protecting her, of course we’d protect her. She’s family. Now, we have orders to haul her errant hide back to the ranch. So if you’re finished interrogating her . . .”

  Calista’s first steps were none too steady, and Matthew didn’t know what bothered him more—her physical distress or his confusion. Either way, he wasn’t done dealing with these people.

  “You might have rights to protect her, but she has rights too. Calista, are you sure you want to go with them? I’ll get you safely back to your room if that’s what you prefer.”

  He’d tussled with these two before, but this time he was prepared, and this time it was over the lady he cared about.

  She looked at her cousins, then gave a halfhearted shrug. “I’ll go with them,” she said. “It’s inevitable.”

  “You don’t have to.” He moved into their path.

  “You’re so sweet. After all this mess . . .” She stepped forward. He read the intent in her eyes, and by the time her hand was against his chest, there was no way she could miss the pounding of his heart. Rising on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his cheek.

  Matthew closed his eyes as their shadows overlapped. She was lilac perfume, a gentle warmth, and a cloud of luxurious bronze hair. It really was unfair to butter him up like this when he hadn’t decided whether or not she was a felon. He opened his eyes as she retreated.

  “You weren’t supposed to be here,” she said.

  “They gave me my equipment at the mine and went over the rules. My first day will be tomorrow. Do you want me to come with you? I could. That way you won’t have to travel back to town by yourself.”

  “No.” Her quick reply set him back. “I mean, it’s nice of you to offer, but it’s premature. My family is . . . well, you’ve met Amos and Maisie. There’s no reason to submit you to that.”

  “She’s our responsibility, not yours,” Amos said with a dark look, and then he followed Calista and Maisie toward the road.

  Matthew hoisted the basket of clothes beneath his arm. He had more important things to worry about. Calista would have to take care of herself, because when he tried to think of what he could do for her, he was at a loss.

  CHAPTER

  11

  “You told Granny Laura you would come to the ranch and see her, and she got tired of waiting.” Maisie’s steps fell heavily on the steep decline as they made their way to the creek crossing.

  “I’m here now, aren’t I?” Being kidnapped by her family was inconvenient, but so was answering Matthew’s questions. Calista supposed she was grateful for the interference.

  “Not of your own free will,” Amos said. “Pa told me to come along for muscle. He was afeared that Maisie couldn’t bring you in on her own.”

  No wonder Calista had succeeded early as a detective. Kidnapping, strong-arm tactics, interrogations—her family dealt in such maneuvers as a matter of course. It was almost like they were wired to be suspicious and strategic. Evidently Matthew came from similar stock.

  The lingering queasiness was fading as she stretched her legs and filled her lungs with air. Strength and wholeness, that was what she wanted around her. For some reason, seeing hurt turned her inside out. It was ridiculous. One of these days, it was going to affect her performance on a case. What if she or a partner were injured? What if she witnessed violence? She’d need to keep her wits about her. Falling over in a faint would leave her vulnerable. And yet she found it hard to imagine the next case.

  Since she’d started training with the Pinkerton Agency, she’d looked forward to taking on disguises and characters, but here in Joplin, she got to be Calista. She couldn’t think about her next assignment without a sense of dread, but that was nothing compared to the dread of seeing her grandmother.

  From a golden childhood, her time at her grandma’s ranch shone the brightest. Every summer the cousins had gathered at Granny Laura’s, and Granny Laura had whipped them into shape with ranch chores and lectures. But between feeding the animals, fixing fences, and weeding the gardens, the cousins had plenty of time to create their own society of value and familial connections from which their parents, aunts, and uncles were excluded.

  The cousins might cover for each other, but they’d also hold you accountable, and the price was sure to be higher than any judge would make you pay.

  “I’m glad you came with us,” Maisie said. “Otherwise Olive and I were going to up the ante.”

  “You didn’t need to bring Olive into it,” Calista said as they came out of the woods and across the back pasture. “She’s got enough on her plate. Besides, what’s she going to do that Granny wouldn’t?”

  “She was going to call Corban.” Amos’s eyes shifted to Calista with dark warning. “You know the last thing we want to do is snitch to your parents, but if you leave us no choice . . .”

  How had Mr. Pinkerton thought she could work unencumbered this close to her family? He should have known better.

  “First I have to face Granny.”

  Her grandmother’s rock farmhouse came into view. With a chimney at each end, it was stuck in the top of the hill as if it had been planted there and had grown roots. The house was as solid and immovable as the widow woman who ran the place.

  Maisie slowed as they reached the turnoff to her house. “I don’t know what got into you, girl, but Granny Laura is going to work you over. Good luck.”

  “You’re not coming with me?” Calista asked.

  “Pa was none too happy with us taking out for town today,” Amos said. “If it weren’t for Granny insisting she needed us, we would’ve been repainting the barn. We gotta get back to work.”

  Sure enough, Uncle Bill was atop a ladder that leaned against the barn. He paused in his work to wave a paintbrush at Calista, then whistled for his kids to hurry up.

  Calista’s shoulders dropped as she turned to the larger house. “Pray for me.”

  Maisie slapped Calista on the shoulder. “Always.”

  Calista’s feet felt heavy. She hadn’t quite shaken off the shame of what Matthew had witnessed earlier that morning. He didn’t believe her about being locked in the office, and he had his doubts about her nursing experience. As bad as that was, she was now about to step into the crucible. Shoring up her courage, Calista jogged up the porch steps of Granny Laura’s house.

  When she’d taken this job from Mr. Pinkerton, she’d looked forward to the day when she could tell her family exactly what she’d been up to, but Mr. Pinkerton was adamant that she not tell them while on this case. That knowledge had to stay hidden, or Calista’s safety would be in jeopardy. But now it seemed she might be forced to reveal something just as she was in the most danger of losing her job.

  All was not lost yet. If she were lucky, she might catch Granny on a bad day. Maybe Calista could bluff her way out of the encounter with her cover story still intact.

  With a toss of her head, just in case Granny was looking out the window, she opened the front door and let herself inside.

  A heavy blanket draped the back of Granny’s rocking chair and hid the occupant from her. Was Granny dozing in that sunny spot? Calista crept up to the rocking chair.

  “Granny?” she whispered.

  The chair lurched as a raccoon leapt from the rocker, streaked across the room, and scampered out the door. Calista would have liked to have screamed, but no sound came from her. Had she really seen that, or was she imagining things? She pounded her fist against her chest as she flipped the blanket over. She was braced, ready for another wild animal to emerge from its folds, but it was empty. So where was Granny Laura?

  “What do you mean, sneaking in here like that
?”

  Calista looked around. Where had that voice come from? A wisp of movement in the next room caught her attention, and she started forward.

  “I didn’t know if you were expecting me,” she called as she crossed the spacious threshold.

  “Nonsense. I sent Amos and Maisie to fetch you. Of course I was expecting you.”

  Calista followed the voice up, her concern growing the higher her gaze traveled. Her diminutive granny stood atop the upright piano with a dust rag in her hand. The fringe on her chaps tangled with the petals of a silk flower arrangement in a Chinese vase. Her boots crumpled the lace doily beneath her feet.

  It was clear what Granny Laura was doing up there, so Calista didn’t utter the rhetorical question. Granny didn’t suffer superfluous conversating. Instead Calista asked, “Do you need help?”

  “I’m done here.” Her granny took another swipe at the cornice, then squatted at the edge of the piano, her legs folding easily for a woman of any age. She dropped her feet to the keyboard with a discordant crash of notes. “Should’ve closed the cover before I climbed up,” she said as she took Calista’s offered hand and reached the floor. “First love and kisses before we prod the sore spots.” She turned her tanned cheek up for Calista’s kiss.

  It didn’t matter that Granny was shorter than all her grandchildren. Calista still felt like she was reaching up to her whenever they met.

  After a strong hug, Granny Laura held Calista at arm’s length. “Well, let me get a look at you. Polly will be asking how her daughter’s faring.” Her sharp eyes did a quick sweep. Remembering her lost scarf, Calista touched her neck, and Granny’s eyes narrowed. “Did you lose something?”

  “Did you know you have a raccoon in your parlor?” Calista jabbed her thumb over her shoulder.

  “My granddaughter is a greater concern. When is the last time you talked to your parents?”

  “They aren’t worried about me.” They would have the forged letter from the school by now, and that would explain everything. “They know I’m here, or they’ll know soon enough.”

  “Myra says you’re looking for work as a nurse in Joplin. Amos says you’re staying at the Keystone. Maisie says you’ve been working with the foundlings. What does Calista say?”

  “All of that’s true, to some extent. I need to take a job to finish my schooling. It’s a new requirement, so I’m weighing my options.”

  “But coming to stay with me at the ranch wasn’t one of your options? Last I heard, my grandchildren loved spending time here. It makes more sense than a woman staying alone in a city as wicked as Joplin.”

  Calista walked to the piano. Reaching up, she straightened the doily that hung halfway off the top. She was an adult. She could tell her grandmother that her activities were none of her business, but that wasn’t how Calista’s family worked. It was Granny’s business. Her doings were Maisie’s and Olive’s and Amos’s business too. Because they were family.

  The difficulty came in explaining what her business was without losing her position. And yet there was no one she trusted more than Granny Laura.

  “Granny, I have a job. It’s a job that requires me to act the way I’m acting. It’s for a very good cause, and it doesn’t mean that I’ve changed my beliefs or who I am. I just have to pretend to be someone else for a time.”

  “You’re not an actress, are you? If I find out that you’ve been on the stage at the Club Theater, I’ll burn the place down.”

  “No.” Calista smiled to assure her. “I’m not on the stage. No one is watching me perform. In fact, they don’t know that I’m performing, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  Granny crossed her arms. Her mouth twisted, stretching the skin over her cheeks like delicate paper. “You’re going to have to do better than that. I won’t have it on my conscience if something happens to you. I have to have an explanation that will justify my decision not to send for your mother. You know I can keep a secret.”

  Calista looked down the hall and through the parlor to the front door. They were alone, but she felt like Mr. Pinkerton was watching over her shoulder. Not telling was a condition of her employment, but in this case, not telling would mean the end of her mission, and if she didn’t succeed at this mission, it would be her last. Her grandmother might be able to keep a secret, but if she disapproved, then it was Katie, bar the door.

  “Do you remember when Mother lost that ruby necklace?” Calista asked.

  “Why Polly ever had need for such an expensive bauble is beyond me,” Granny said. “Do you know how much cattle those rocks would buy?”

  “Well, they hired a detective agency to find it.”

  “I remember.” Granny’s ice-blue eyes narrowed. Her face twitched. “Are you pulling my leg?”

  “I’m working as an operative,” Calista said, watching for her grandmother’s reaction. “A detective for an agency in Chicago.”

  The slight movement was Granny’s jaw dropping. “Not the Pinkertons?” she asked.

  “The same.”

  Granny bent at the waist, pushing her face forward. “My granddaughter is a Pinkerton agent?” Her eyes widened as she clapped her hands together and pressed them against her mouth.

  “I’m working with them, but it’s not official. I’m still on probation.”

  “You’re solving crimes? You’re outsmarting villains?” Granny’s smile emerged from behind her hands as she hummed a little tune. “I wish your grandpa were here to see this.”

  “My parents think I’m finishing some studies that are required for my degree. I’ve been able to work that into my story for this case. I plan to tell them everything once I’ve secured my spot with the agency.”

  “That friend of yours . . . the sick one?”

  “Never happened. I was in training.”

  Granny clapped her weathered hands again. “I knew it. I knew there was no way you were in a sickroom. Ha! Polly will be livid that you fooled her, but she’ll want to hear all about it.”

  Just like her grandmother, Calista’s mother, Pauline, would have much preferred the adventure of being a detective to learning how to dance and serve tea. And while Calista was relieved that Granny Laura had taken the news so well, now she feared that Granny was so enchanted by the idea, she wouldn’t be able to keep it hidden.

  “I should’ve known,” Granny said. “I told myself you weren’t a lost cause. That you would settle down and find a purpose. Here you are, exceeding all my expectations.”

  “Maybe your expectations were too low,” Calista said.

  “Quite possible, but who could blame me? Now, who are you investigating? Do you need help? Is it Mr. Holly, the owner of the paint factory? I’ve heard he has no former employees in town. People just disappear when they’re finished with their job.” The leather on her chaps swished as she paced the room. “Or is it Mr. Wolstead? His scales aren’t balanced. Every Saturday his leasers get shorted.”

  “I can’t tell you,” Calista said. “All you need to know is that I’m in no danger and I have the resources of the whole agency at my disposal.”

  Her grandmother nodded as she paced. “So if I hear that you’ve taken up with some unsuitable companions, it’s because you’re investigating them. Is that right? Not because you’ve turned your back on your raisings?”

  Calista beamed. “Exactly.”

  “And if I hear that you’re frequenting unsuitable establishments, it’s because you’re trying to expose evil?”

  “More or less.”

  “And if you put yourself in danger, I don’t need to worry because you’ll have your family right there to bail you out?”

  At this, Calista cocked her head. “Well, you’re here at the ranch. If I need anything—”

  “If you need anything, it’s going to be too late.” Granny had turned fierce. “You need someone in town with you, and I don’t mean Olive. She’s too busy with your aunt Myra. If I weren’t so busy with branding, I’d go myself.”

  Calista gri
pped the back of a nearby chair. “I couldn’t ask you to leave your work here, Granny. That’s too much. I’ll be fine.”

  “Nonsense. Kentworths look after their own. You aren’t going to do this alone. My decision is between Amos and Maisie. Amos would look more threatening, but when push comes to shove, Maisie might be a better one in a fight. Plus, it’d be easy for her to bunk down at your hotel with you. No one would question your cousin coming to town.”

  Panic, like a sharp bile, was climbing up Calista’s throat. “I don’t need a babysitter, and I definitely don’t need Maisie. She’s uncouth. She’s uncontrollable. She’s—”

  “She’s just the companion you need.” Granny’s level gaze had returned. “I’m proud of you, Calista, but I’m no fool. You don’t want to admit to your old granny that you could have some hardened men after you, but I know the truth. Besides, you need to keep your family’s reputation in mind. You might skedaddle off to another case, but we have to live with the rumors of what you’re doing. Having Maisie with you will give you more respectability.”

  Mr. Pinkerton would not approve, and neither did Calista. “Granny, the reason I’m so effective is because people don’t expect a young girl to be good at her job. They underestimate me, just like you’re doing now.”

  “Don’t talk to me about being underestimated, child.” Granny ran her fingers through her short silver hair. “When your grandpa died, I was saddled with three young children and a ranch no one thought I could handle. Everyone told me to sell out and move to town. When those men got tired of trying to convince me that my land wasn’t worth anything, they tried to convince me to marry them to help me manage my property. The one decision that wasn’t acceptable would be for me to reject them and take care of it myself.

  “You should’ve seen the looks on their faces the first time I showed up at the railhead with a herd, two hired men, and your uncle Bill riding like a wrangler, though barely twelve years old. I was dressed like the rest of the ranchers—dressed to get the job done. Since that day, I haven’t much cared what people said, as long as I’m staying true to the trail Christ has called me on. But that doesn’t mean being a stumbling block without cause. So you go along and be the best detective that Chicago man has. If people don’t understand why you’re doing something, that’s not your worry, but there’s no purpose in leaving yourself open to attack. And if there’s anyone who is good in a fight, it’s your cousin Maisie.”