Courting Misfortune
Page 31
“After you finish with that matter,” she continued, “tabulate what my change of heart has cost the agency, and send the bill to this address. You might as well address it to my father, Mr. Richard York, as that’s who will sign the check. Is there anything I’m missing?”
Mr. Pinkerton didn’t like having no recourse, that was evident. But he was too smart to waste time on things that were out of his control. “You’ve made yourself clear. I hope you don’t regret your decision.”
To this, Calista could only smile. Perhaps this was why she had been assigned to this case. Instead of a good detective, God had needed someone who wouldn’t find the girl . . . not until she found the courage to say no to her boss.
But there was someone she could say yes to, and Calista would waste no time in doing so.
CHAPTER
27
Matthew had had a good day. He hummed to himself as he and Dan left the newly named Lighthouse on the Fox-Berry property. They had already started meeting with the miners even as the building was being constructed around them. Oddly enough, Olive Kentworth was frequently there, consulting on the construction plans and talking to the builders, but when Mr. Blount arrived, she’d slip away and leave her father to do the directing.
Mr. Blount was a wonder. It was he who had named the center, figuring that the men spent enough time in the dark during their working hours. Despite his rough edges, he had a kind heart. Even rarer, he held the riches that he’d earned in low esteem, claiming that he’d been blessed, so it was his job to spread that blessing. While he and Matthew didn’t see eye to eye on every matter, God used imperfect vessels. And Matthew was learning just how imperfect he himself was.
Today had been Matthew’s first full day at the center. After the shift bell had clanged, Matthew had led a Bible study with a dozen miners, including some of the independent prospectors from nearby plots. After the study, he’d invited Dan Campbell to introduce a topic that was near to both of their hearts—starting a bereavement fund for injured miners. Dan shared what a difference that would have made for his wife and himself, and donations were taken on the spot. Most of the men attending didn’t have a prospect as lucrative as Dan’s, but their gifts were a start. Besides, if these men could learn the joy of giving, their community would reap the benefits for generations.
Matthew had done the right thing by staying. He swallowed the lump in his throat that appeared despite his peace. He was needed here. What kind of life could he have with Calista as long as she was a Pinkerton? He could hardly follow her from assignment to assignment. He’d made the right choice, and someday it wouldn’t hurt to think about it.
“I’ll see you on Sunday,” Dan said as they reached the fork in the road. “I’ll tell Howie you said hello.”
Matthew had to laugh. He’d tried so hard to prevent that baby raffle, and look where it had landed him. “Is he sleeping better now?”
“He’s settled right in. It’s almost like he knows he belongs with us.” Dan tipped his hat. “Good night.”
Night was coming on fast. By the time Matthew reached the tall buildings of downtown, the sky had darkened to a bruise color, pretty nonetheless. He’d wash up, then go back out for dinner and his evening stroll. His work didn’t end at the shift bell. He was a fisher of men, and in Joplin, the fish were biting at all hours in a pond that was growing by the day. The borders of Joplin were expanding just as quickly as the riches were hauled out of the earth.
Reaching Mr. Trochet’s shop, Matthew cut through the store to his cabin in the back but immediately realized something was wrong. Keeping his eyes on the gate to the street, he pulled the shop door closed behind him. He hadn’t left the gate open. Perhaps Mr. Trochet had used the exit? But it wasn’t like him to leave the shop unlocked if he was out.
If it hadn’t been for the fight with Calista’s attacker, he wouldn’t have thought twice about someone hiding in the greenhouse, but now he watched his back. The green scent of the garden hadn’t changed. Early evening lightning bugs glowed in the thick stalks of the cannas. Nothing was out of place except the lady pacing the flagstones.
Words failed him. He could only stand and watch. She sensed him and slowed. Gone was her smile, her cheer. In fact, she looked like she’d swallowed a caterpillar whole and it was trying to climb back up. He knew, because he had the same bothersome feeling in his gut.
It was about Lila, he reminded himself. She had come to finish her business.
“Is something wrong?” he asked. How he despised the uncertainty in her eyes. If he had his way, she’d only be secure and confident.
“I told Mr. Pinkerton that I wouldn’t disclose Lila’s location. He wasn’t satisfied with that answer. He thinks that we owe first responsibility to our clients, not to justice.”
Matthew’s neck tightened. “You can’t. We both know Mrs. Bowman. She isn’t lying. She isn’t playing us false.”
“And she went to great lengths to hide, even preparing to run again. If Reverend Dixon hadn’t blurted her name in front of you, we still wouldn’t know.”
“We have to warn her. We have to tell her that her father will be sending men. She has to leave.” He tore his eyes from her elegant form wrapped in a violet gown. “You shouldn’t have come. The less you know, the less you have to report back to your boss. It’d be better if I handled this alone.” He turned to go.
“Matthew, wait.” She stepped forward, her skirt swaying over the paver stones. “Mr. Pinkerton insisted that I give up Lila’s whereabouts, but I refused. When I saw his intention, I decided that I couldn’t tell him anything. Not the names Bowman or Rush, and not that she was anywhere near Joplin. Only that she was safe, hadn’t been kidnapped, and did not want to be found by her father.”
“Calista, you’re amazing.” Her eyes shone at his praise. “Only you could tell the mighty Pinkerton Agency no without any repercussions. I’d like to have seen his face—”
“But there were repercussions,” she said. “I had to resign. I can’t work for him any longer.”
The air whooshed out of his lungs like a candle being snuffed in the shaft. He’d thought finding Lila would help Calista, not ruin the course of her life.
He shuffled his feet, trying to find hopeful words for her. “Pinkerton can’t be the only detective agency. There’s got to be others who could hire you.” Because that was what she wanted. She’d told him in no uncertain terms. And honoring her wishes was what he’d committed to doing.
“I told my family what I’ve been doing. They were flabbergasted. I don’t think they’ll approve of me working in that business again.”
He wanted to be sorry for her—he really did—but when he looked up again, he saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes that hadn’t been there before.
“Should I be sad for you?” he asked.
“I don’t know. It could be bad, if . . .” She lowered her eyes. “I haven’t decided what’s next. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see what opportunities present themselves.”
Like a rising sun, he was gradually seeing the light. There was no new assignment drawing her away. She didn’t have to leave. Not tomorrow, maybe not ever. Could it be that was what she wanted?
Matthew moved toward her. It had taken all of his strength to let her go the first time. Even worse the second. Now here she was again.
“Marry me,” he said.
Her eyes crinkled. “Is that offer still available?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m making it again, but only if you know for certain that this is what you want. You can’t do it to fill your lack of employment until something better comes along.” She lowered her head, but he grabbed her by the shoulders. “Don’t hide your face, Calista. Give me an answer. You knew before you got on the train that I’d ask, and you knew what you’d say before you rolled into town. Say it.”
“Yes.” Her face glowed with her slow smile. “That’s why I’m here.”
“Because you knew you’d be miserable anywhere else?�
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“I was willing to be miserable if needed, but that path ended, and it ended right at your doorstep.”
Matthew paused, unsure what to do, then quick as a wink he pulled her to himself and kissed her. At first their smiles were too big to kiss properly, but after a few chuckles, her lips softened, and their humor was replaced by joy.
“You were never second choice,” she whispered. “You were the impossible dream.”
“Impossible would be a rich detective falling in love with a poor miner.”
“My specific gift is doing the impossible.” She gazed into his eyes. “And just because I marry doesn’t mean my heart has changed. There’s plenty of injustice that needs addressing in Joplin, but instead of pretending to be a nurse or a decorator, I think having your help will open the necessary doors.”
“With me rooting for you, and the entire Kentworth family behind you,” Matthew said, “you’re bound to succeed.”
They were still the same people with the same dreams and same goals, but the paths to those goals had merged. So many plans, so many possibilities, and they would be explored together.
A Note from the Author
Dear Reader,
Pinkertons, mining towns, and baby raffles! There’s so much to cover in this brief historical note.
I was born in Joplin and grew up frequenting it on trips from Oklahoma, but until I started my research, I had no idea what a rambunctious town it once was. Wow, Joplin! You surprised me!
The rags-to-riches examples in this book are based on historical accounts. There were many penniless men who took a lease, dug just two feet deeper than the last man, and found themselves wealthy beyond their imagination. Others were stuck in poverty.
Speaking of poverty, the Joplin Children’s Home had difficulty keeping up with the needs of the community. In 1910, the Elks planned a charity fair for the Children’s Home, and M. B. Peltz, the new manager of the Electric Light Park, offered his services to promote the amusements.
When Mr. Peltz announced his plans for a baby raffle, Joplin was thrown into chaos. The Elks were divided on the idea, but Mayor Humes said he’d call out the militia to prevent a baby from being raffled. Despite the threat, Mr. Peltz continued to share the tragic (and often contradictory) history of the orphaned child, along with promoting the other amusements of the charitable fair. He was arrested, and even after he posted bail, he couldn’t help but drop hints to the newspapers about the poor child that would be rescued by someone willing to buy a ticket. We know that babies were raffled off by a foundling hospital in Paris in 1911, so a baby raffle wasn’t unheard of in that era.
The day of the Joplin fair arrived with its parade, carnival, and games. There was no baby among the raffled items, but the controversy seemed to have achieved its purpose. One thousand two hundred dollars were raised for the Children’s Home, and Mr. Peltz undoubtedly credited himself and the scandal for the success.
One liberty I need to confess involves the inclusion of the Joplin Carnegie Library. It’s such a lovely building that I placed it in the story even though it wasn’t built until 1902. (Guess what material they used for the roof. Zinc shingles! What else?) That building is still standing today.
And what about those Pinkertons? They were so much fun to research! In the early years, the operatives relied on psychological manipulation to get confessions when evidence was scarce. Kate Warne, the first female operative, was a master at it. But after studying a few of her fascinating cases, I decided that Calista might have an issue with those methods. Still, I recommend reading more about Mrs. Warne. You’ll be amazed at her skill and courage.
Thank you again for reading my stories and giving me a reason to dive into our fascinating history. To see what I’m working on next or where to find more of my books, please visit me online at www.reginajennings.com or find me on Facebook.
Sincerely,
Regina
Regina Jennings is a graduate of Oklahoma Baptist University with a degree in English and a minor in history. She’s the winner of the National Readers’ Choice Award, a two-time Golden Quill finalist, and a finalist for the Oklahoma Book of the Year Award. Regina has worked at the Mustang News and at First Baptist Church of Mustang, along with time at the Oklahoma National Stockyards and various livestock shows. She lives outside of Oklahoma City with her husband and four children and can be found online at www.reginajennings.com.
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Table of Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
Books by Regina Jennings
Title Page
Copyright Page
Contents
Dedication
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A Note from the Author
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
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