An Agent for Marianne (The Pinkerton Matchmaker Book 49)

by Christine Sterling

  “Where does this door go to?”

  “Upstairs. It goes to the bedrooms upstairs.”

  “Who sleeps up there?”

  “It’s just Pearl’s room. We moved down to this level when James came home. She is the only one up there.”

  “May I?” Mrs. Bolton nodded. Archie opened the door. There was in fact a staircase that went to the second floor. There was coal dust on the stairs. It looked like footprints, but he couldn’t tell from where he was standing.

  “Pearl carried the coal bucket upstairs for me,” Mrs. Bolton said peering into the stairwell. Sounded like a perfectly reasonable explanation. He closed the door and put his hat back on his head.

  “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Bolton. If I can be of any assistance, please let me know.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Gordon.” She returned to sit next to her husband and used a napkin to lovingly wipe the corners of his mouth.

  As Archie walked down the hallway towards the door, he noticed something dark marking the ground near the door. He squatted down to take a closer look. It was soot in the shape of a footprint.

  Perhaps Mrs. Bolton or Pearl tracked it when they were filling the bucket; he had been told Pearl carried a coal scuttle upstairs. He gingerly placed his foot over the shape, hovering as to not disturb anything. The footprint was too large and wide to be either Pearl or her mother’s. Unless James magically recovered enough to walk around, it wasn’t him. That meant someone else had been there recently.

  Bronco hadn’t been by the house since the coal was delivered, so he doubted that the Indian agent would have been so careless to leave a footprint. And the track was fresh. The soot still had a shiny color, meaning that it hadn’t dulled from sitting in the air.

  He left the Bolton’s more confused than ever. Pearl never mentioned her father was in a vegetative state. He wondered why James hadn’t been taken to an institution. It did say something about the strength of Pearl and her mother.

  It was a shame to see such a strong man cut down in the prime of life. James was just a little older than Archie, but the man in the chair today was more like someone who was many years older.

  He stood on the sidewalk and turned around to look at the brownstone. There was nothing remarkable about it. It had two levels. Made from brick and had two large bay windows in front.

  Archie thought for a minute. He needed to get back to the office. Hopefully Zeke would be able to find something out in the next day or two.

  He looked back up at the second story window. He thought he caught a glimpse of a figure in the window. A curtain dropped suddenly, hiding whoever was standing there.

  Archie put on his hat and started walking towards the park. He had just reached the corner when he heard a gun exploding.

  He tried to walk forward, but his feet weren’t cooperating. He swung his hips to see what was behind him, but he couldn’t get them to move.

  He saw people running towards him. One woman screamed, but no sound came out of her mouth. It was as if the whole world was moving in slow motion.

  He felt ill. His side was hurting. He placed his hand against his belly. Why would his coat be wet? He lifted his hand and spied crimson liquid dripping from his fingertips.

  Suddenly everything that was in slow motion sped up and the screaming pierced his ears. He felt himself falling and he succumbed to the darkness.

  Chicago

  “Will you marry me, Annie?”

  Marianne stared at Connor in shock. She looked around the restaurant to see if anyone had overheard the proposal.

  “I thought you were going to ask to court me… not marry me,” she whispered harshly across the table.

  Connor gave her one of his cheeky grins. “It is headed down the same path, Annie. I’m just skipping a few steps.”

  “I honestly don’t know what to say.”

  “Say, yes?” he replied hopefully.

  “Shouldn’t you marry someone you love?”

  “I’m already there.”

  She reached out and cupped his chin. “Oh, Connor. I am very fond of you, and I know I could grow to love you dearly. I just don’t think that now is the time to make such a hasty decision.”

  “You don’t have to give me an answer now, Annie. Think on it a few days.” Marianne hesitated. “Promise me you’ll think about it?”

  Marianne looked at him. “I promise.”

  “I still want to court you. Officially, that is.”

  “I think I’d like that, Connor.”

  They finished their dinner and Connor walked her back to the woman’s dormitory next to the office. They stood outside the main door under the oil lamps that were lining the street.

  “Thank you for having dinner with me,” he said.

  “It was my pleasure. I enjoyed the company.”

  “Remember your promise,” he tapped her nose.

  “I won’t forget.”

  Marianne felt him pull her closer. As he leaned down to kiss her, she turned her face slightly and he kissed her cheek. Giving an embarrassed laugh, he kissed her forehead before releasing her. “Sleep tight, Marianne.”

  Marianne walked up the steps to the door. She stood on the top step and watched Connor walk down the street to the men’s dormitory. It took a moment for her to realize that he called her Marianne. That was the first time in months he called her by her given name.

  She pulled on the door when a figure stepped out of the shadows. She nearly screamed until the shadow called her name.

  “Bronco!” She raced down the steps and jumped into his arms for a hug. It was so good to see someone from home. “What are you doing here?” Bronco was the one agent that could move silently no matter the circumstances.

  Bronco returned the hug and released her.

  “Who was that, Marianne?” He lifted his chin in the direction that Connor walked.

  “He’s a friend.”

  “Looks like more than a friend to me.”

  “He’s a good friend.”

  “Uhm, hum.” He came and leaned up against the stairs, placing one foot on the bottom rail.

  “How good of a friend?”

  Marianne closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening her eyes to look at Bronco. “If you must know, he asked me to marry him.”

  Bronco raised his eyebrows in surprise.

  “And what did you say?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I said. Did Archie send you here to spy on me?”

  “No. Penny sent you a message but when you didn’t respond immediately, I came to fetch you.”

  “I’m not returning to Denver.”

  “Not even for this?”

  “Not for anything. Besides… only part of the message came through.”

  “Then you don’t know.”

  “Know what?”

  “Archie’s been shot.”

  Chapter 10

  Marianne fretted the entire journey back to Denver. It would be a three-day train ride from Chicago to Denver. That would give her plenty of time to worry.

  They had left the previous evening to make the long trip back to Denver. She hadn’t finished unpacking from the move, so it was easy to pack everything and head to the station shortly thereafter.

  She didn’t even say goodbye to Connor. She wrote a quick note for Robert and asked Janet to deliver it in the morning.

  “Calm down,” Bronco said. “I’m sure he will recover and be the same stubborn, curmudgeon that he was before.”

  Marianne stilled her hands that were twisting in her lap. “Curmudgeon. That’s a new word for you.”

  “Claudette has plenty of influence over my vocabulary now. Words just seem to sneak into my speech. I open my mouth and she comes out.”

  “She’s a good influence on you.”

  “The best. I am very blessed to have her in my life. You made a good match, Marianne.” Marianne laughed. “So, what’s the story with you and Irish?”

  “Connor? He’s a good friend.”
/>   Bronco gave a little grin. “I have good friends, but I didn’t want to marry any of them.”

  Marianne didn’t respond and instead looked out the window at the passing scenery. It was early in the morning and the sun was breaking over the horizon. She could see the trees whipping past as the train moved along at sixteen miles per hour.

  “It is hard to marry someone, when your heart belongs to someone else,” she finally said, turning to look at Bronco.

  Bronco didn’t say anything for a few moments. He looked at her with his fingers steepled against his chin. “If that is who you want, then fight for it, Marianne. Don’t let him doubt your love for him. I can honestly say he has been a wreck since you have been gone.”

  Marianne gave a little smile. It was some consolation, but she didn’t know how to show her love for him. If he didn’t see it in everything she had done, then what else could she do? Apparently, her time in Chicago hadn’t done much to answer these questions.

  “Do you know how bad the wound is?” she asked. She didn’t want to think of Archie dying, but she needed to know so she could use the next two days to prepare herself.

  Bronco had placed his hat over his head to block the incoming sunlight. He lifted the brim. “All I know is the bullet was lodged in his side. The doctor had to perform surgery to get all the fragments out of his body. He lost a lot of blood. It was touch and go when I left.”

  “You would think another telegram would have been sent.”

  Bronco shrugged. “I know there are some issues with the wires in Chicago since the fire. Perhaps the connection isn’t working properly.”

  “Maybe.” Marianne turned back to the windows for a few minutes. “Why didn’t Archie ever send me a note?”

  Bronco sat back up on the seat, placing his feet that were resting on the bench opposite him, back on the floor. “Marianne, I’m sure it was hard to see you surrounded by all those young, handsome men. They even gave you a nickname. He just took for granted that you would always be there. And when you weren’t, he didn’t know how to cope. When he found out about the fire, I have never seen him look so devastated. Not even when his little sister married Mav. Did you know he left that very next day to go to Chicago? He needed to make sure you were alright. He didn’t go for the office, or to help Robert. He went for you.”

  “I know he rented the house we were staying in. I found that out a few days ago.”

  “He also made sure you had clothes, that everything was replaced. He was watching you from afar.”

  Archie had purchased all those beautiful clothes for her after the fire? She just assumed…

  “You thought they were from the agency. No. That was all Archie. He loves you, Marianne, he’s just a …”

  “Curmudgeon?”

  “Exactly.” Bronco looked at her thoughtfully. “I hope you don’t waste this trip back to Denver.”

  “I hope so too.” As she turned back to the window, she wondered if she was too late to convince Archie they should be together.

  Marianne dropped her trunk and wrap in the foyer. It was good to be home. Pearl came and gave her a hug.

  “It’s so good to have you back, Marianne. I’ll make you some tea.”

  Marianne gave Jacqueline and Claudette a quick hug. “It is good to be back. Tea sounds wonderful, but I want to see Archie first.”

  “He’s in the dormitory.”

  Marianne walked through the garden towards the dormitory. It was a caretaker’s cottage that had been converted into several rooms where the agents stayed when they were in town. She walked through the French doors into the common area. Several agents turned their heads when she walked in.

  Angus came up to her and enveloped her in a big bear hug. “I’m glad you’re home, darlin’.” She returned the hug and then turned to give Penelope one.

  “The telegram didn’t come through completely,” she told Penny. “Otherwise I would have been home sooner. Bronco said he was working on a case. Can anyone tell me the details?”

  “We will after you settle in,” Angus said. “Archie’s room is at the end of the hall.”

  Marianne walked past the agents that were lined up in the hallway. Several of the agents she didn’t recognize. She finally reached the end and went into Archie’s room.

  She gave a little gasp as she saw him laying on the bed. She wasn’t expecting him to look so pale, or small. He had lost quite a bit of weight since she was gone.

  She walked over to the side of the bed and sat on the chair next to him. His hair was longer, and his beard had grown.

  “I heard you’ve not been taking care of yourself. That will change, now, darling,” she whispered to him. Marianne ran her fingers across his forehead, brushing his hair from his face.

  “He was awake a bit yesterday,” Penelope said, coming to put her hand on Marianne’s shoulder. Marianne patted her sister’s hand.

  “Has he been awake much since being shot?”

  Penny shook her head. “Only twice that I know of. Once right after the surgery and then last night.”

  “His body is repairing itself,” Bronco said.

  “He’s lost a lot of blood,” Angus said. “Several of us have given our blood to him to help him recover.”

  Marianne looked around the room. The agents had moved into the room and were lining up against the wall. “Thank you for that.”

  “The doctor should be by shortly to check his bandage and give an update on his prognosis.”

  Marianne nodded. She felt her bottom lip start to tremble. She didn’t want to cry in front of everyone; she had done plenty of crying on the train home. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat.

  “Well, we need to get him feeling better. I’ll need a bowl of water, some clean cloths and a fresh nightshirt.” She looked at the agents who hadn’t moved. “Well go!”

  A light laughter broke out, easing the tension. Several of the agents lingered behind. Marianne gave them one of her you know better looks. “Don’t you have cases to work? Or reports to file? The Pinkertons don’t stop just because one of us is down.”

  “She’s definitely back,” one agent laughed.

  “I hope you stay, Marianne,” another said.

  “Me, too,” said a few others.

  Everyone left the room, leaving Marianne alone with Archie. She leaned over, placing one hand on his chest, and pressing her lips against his forehead. “I’ll get you right as rain.”

  She could have sworn she felt him shift under her palm. Perhaps it was just the movement of his breathing. Pearl delivered the items she asked for – a bowl of warm water, cloths, a fresh nightshirt and a pot of tea, just as the doctor arrived to check him over.

  “Welcome home, Miss Chapman,” he said as he placed his bag on the table next to the bed. “How’s our patient today?”

  “Good morning, doctor. I just arrived. My sister relayed that he was awake yesterday.”

  “Awake or alert?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “No worries, I’ll check with her on the way out.” The doctor pulled out a stethoscope and listened to Archie’s heart. Doctor McGuire had been in Denver for as long as Marianne had been in town. He was an older doctor with yellowing hair and kind eyes. When he was done, he gave Marianne a wink. “Lucky for us, he still has a heart.”

  “How bad was the injury?” she asked.

  “I’ve seen worse. He was very lucky that the bullet didn’t hit anything vital. It just took a bit to get all the lead fragments.”

  “So he’ll recover?”

  “As long as we fight off infection; he gets plenty of rest and minimal stress; then yes. He should recover.”

  Marianne breathed a sigh of relief. “How long will he be in bed?”

  “Could be a few weeks, could be a few months. It depends on how hard he wants to fight.” The doctor peered over his glasses and looked at Marianne. “Give him something to fight for.”

  Marianne blushed and turned away. “I don’t have a
clue what you mean.”

  “Don’t play coy with me, Miss Chapman. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. Even right now, you are still holding onto his arm.”

  Marianne looked. Her hand was resting on Archie’s arm. She didn’t even realize she had placed it there.

  “Oh,” she said removing it.

  “Don’t remove it. There is power in human connection.” He lowered the bedsheet. Archie was dressed in a plain white nightshirt. “I’m going to examine the wound. Are you staying or leaving?”

  “I’ll stay. Just let me know when he is decent.” She stood and walked to the foot of the bed, placing her back towards Archie. She heard the doctor move the sheets and blankets.

  As the doctor positioned them for the most modesty, Marianne looked around the room. She had never been in his room before. In fact, she had never been in any of the rooms in the dormitory.

  There was an open wardrobe, and Marianne could see all of Archie’s suits hanging up. His shoes were laid in pairs underneath the pants. To the side of the wardrobe sat a chest of drawers. The top was empty apart from his comb, several handkerchiefs and a picture frame.

  Marianne walked over and picked up the picture. She stared at a picture of herself. She remembered the day the picture was taken. It was a month after the Denver office opened. All of the agents had their pictures taken, including Marianne. She was part of the agency, Archie reminded her.

  She didn’t purchase a picture because the price was too expensive for her purse. But apparently Archie did purchase one. She wondered how long he had it on his dresser.

  “He’s all covered,” the doctor said, waving Marianne back over. Archie was rolled on his side, his back facing the doctor.

  Marianne stood next to the doctor as he began to remove the bandage covering the wound on Archie’s back. The skin was puckered where the bullet had entered. There was a row of stitches sewing his skin back together from the doctor performing surgery. Dried blood was caked on his skin.

  “It looks much better.”

  “That’s better?” Her heart hurt, thinking about Archie’s injuries.

  “I saw you had some water. Let’s get this cleaned up. Are you up for changing his bandage daily?”