“I guess so. It can’t be any worse than tending to a bunch of rambunctious brothers.”
“Good. I’ll leave you some supplies. Let me show you how to do this.”
Marianne watched as the doctor flushed the wound using a device that looked like a syringe without a needle. Marianne used the dry cloths to blot the wound.
The doctor applied a layer of salve on the wound and handed the tin to Marianne. She took a sniff. “What is it?”
“Just some herbs mixed in with beeswax. It will heal the wound and the wax will protect his skin.”
Marianne slid the tin in her pocket.
“Why hasn’t he woken up?”
“That is probably the pain medication. Willow bark can make a person sleepy.”
“Didn’t you give him morphine?”
“Only for the surgery. He insisted that he didn’t want anything too strong.”
“That’s just being stubborn.”
“No, it’s not,” a voice croaked from the other side of the bed. Marianne raced around. Archie had one eye open and was looking at her. “I need to keep my wits about me.”
“Archie!” she cried. “You are awake.” She sat in the chair, so she was closer to eye level. She brushed his hair back from his face.
“I heard your voice and I thought I was dreaming.”
She gave him a smile, fighting back the tears that were threatening to flow over. “I came as soon as I heard.”
“If I knew it would take getting shot to have you return home, I would have done it long ago.”
Marianne gave a little laugh. “Don’t be silly.”
He moved his hand, and Marianne could see him wince as he placed it on her arm. “I’m glad you are home. Are you going to stay?”
“For as long as it takes to get you better.”
“That’s good.” His eyes were getting droopy.
“Sleep, Archie.” She leaned over and kissed his forehead. She thought she heard him whisper something, but she wasn’t sure. It was so light she almost missed it.
She sat back in the chair and brought her fingers to her lips. She wondered if Archie had just confessed his love for her?
Chapter 11
Marianne heard the commotion as she entered the dormitory. She had just returned from the clinic with another jar of salve. His wound was healing nicely, but the skin was still irritated.
“I will not stay in this bed another moment.” His voice carried down the hallway of the dormitory.
Marianne sighed. She had been back in Denver for a week. Taking care of Archie wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. The man was stubborn. The doctor insisted that he stay in bed for at least two weeks. That meant one more week of lying there, dictating orders to the agents.
Fortunately, Bronco and Angus were splitting duties. Trying to train the new agents, as well as handle their own cases.
Marianne swept into the room. “What’s going on here?”
“I was just telling Bronco and Angus that I need to get out of this bed.”
She placed the jar of salve on the dresser and walked over to the bed. She touched Archie’s head. “You aren’t feverish. That is a good sign. So, there isn’t any chance of infection.”
“I’m tired of being here in bed.”
“Archie, this is the first day you have been awake for most of the day. Your body needs to rest.”
“I can rest at my desk.”
“You have the best agents West of Chicago working to find Hotchkiss. There is nothing you need to do.”
“I need to find my notebook. It was in the pocket of my coat when I was shot.”
“I have that as well. Doc said he found it on the floor of his operating room. It was kicked under the desk.”
“Let me see it.”
Marianne reached her hand in her pocket. As she pulled out the notebook, the photograph that she kept there drifted down to the bed.
Before she could retrieve it, Archie’s fingers grabbed it and he lifted it to his face. She saw his eyes open wide as he looked at the photograph.
“I gave this to Victoria.”
“I know,” Marianne replied softly.
He handed the lithograph back to her. “You’ve kept this in your pocket?” Marianne nodded. “You probably want to put it there again.”
Marianne took the picture and slid it back in her pocket. She then handed the notebook to Archie. He flipped through several pages.
“Here… been to Bolton’s several times; haven’t been able to see James. Pearl is skittish. Mother looks frightened.”
“Do you think someone is there?” Bronco asked.
“I don’t know. But possibly. I saw a man’s boot print at the front door.”
“Inside?” Angus asked.
“Yeah.”
“Maybe it was Pearl or one of her parents?” Bronco offered.
Archie shook his head. “James is bound to a wheelchair. He can barely communicate. It wasn’t him. It was too large to be Pearl or her mother. It looked like the person stepped in coal, as coal dust was throughout the house. Bronco, who delivered coal that day?”
“I delivered it.”
“Wait…” Marianne interrupted. “The Arthur’s didn’t deliver it? They’ve been delivering it every week for …” she stopped. She didn’t want to give too much away.
“The past five years?” Archie asked. “I know.”
“Why did they miss a delivery? In fact, I was just over at the house to pay for next week’s bucket.”
“Did you see them?”
Marianne shook her head. “They weren’t there. There was no answer at the house. I thought they were in the barn, but their horses were gone and there was some metal thing where the wagon would be.”
“What type of metal thing?” Archie asked.
“Like a metal barrel with pipes coming out of it going into a smaller barrel. I’ve never seen someone burning a barrel inside the barn.”
“Was the fire under one, or both barrels?” Angus asked.
Marianne thought for a minute. “Just one.”
“Sounds like they are making liquor,” Angus said.
“Weren’t the Arthur boys seen with Boggs?” Bronco asked.
Archie nodded. “Yes. And I saw one of them when I went to see if George was at the saloon.”
“Bronco, grab Zeke Preston and another agent. Get over the Bolton house to see what you can find out. I want the front and back doors covered. Something is going on there and I want to know what it is.”
Angus got up to leave. “I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?” Archie asked.
“I need to go see Wills. I think I know what is going on.”
Archie was filled with frustration as he waited for Bronco and Zeke to get back to the house. It had only been a few hours, but it felt like days.
Marianne tried to keep him occupied by reading to him from a newspaper that had just published its first issue -- the Denver Times. Her voice was soothing, and it made Archie want to close his eyes.
As he rested them for a moment, listening to her talk about cattle prices, and thought about why she had his picture in her pocket. It had been damaged in the fire as the edges were singed.
He thought about asking her, but didn’t want to embarrass her any more than she was when he picked up the picture and looked at it.
He heard a commotion in the room. He opened his eyes as Zeke and Bronco came in.
“You were both correct. The footprint belonged to Geraint Arthur.”
“And they were making bootleg whiskey in the barn.”
“Were you able to apprehend him?”
“Yes,” Bronco said. “After Zeke shot him,” Bronco said.
“After you threw that knife at him.”
“Is he dead? What happened?”
Bronco relayed a quick story of finding the young Arthur hiding upstairs at the Bolton Home. Bronco, being light on his feet climbed the stairs without making a sound. He caught Ge
raint Arthur in a room with two doors.
As Bronco entered the room, Geraint ran out the other door and down the stairs to escape. He was holding a gun in his hand, which he lifted when he saw Zeke. Zeke shot him in the arm as Bronco flicked a knife into his shoulder. Both injuries were non-life threatening.
Geraint told them the story in drips while he waited for the doctor to arrive. When he didn’t want to talk, or wasn’t forthcoming with information, Bronco provided some encouragement by pressing on the knife wound in the boy’s shoulder.
Bronco shrugged as Marianne sent a disapproving glare his way.
“Who’s at the house right now?” Archie asked.
“Thomas. Still green behind the ears, but he’ll be okay until we get Hotchkiss.”
“You know where he is?”
Bronco nodded. “Yeah, the kid told us everything he knew.”
“I don’t want to know what you did to get it out of him,” Marianne said.
“Where is he?” Archie responded.
“At a farm outside of town. Same one where Marianne found that still in the barn.”
“Well then why are you here?” Archie said.
“We don’t know where Boggs is.”
Pearl came running into the dormitory. “I just heard. Are my parents alright?” Tears started to gather in her eyes.
“Yes. They weren’t hurt,” Zeke replied moving closer to Pearl. He put his hand on her shoulder to comfort her.
“Angus, you take Pearl home and make sure to document the scene.”
“Will do, boss,” he said, escorting Pearl by the arm. Archie noticed that Zeke followed the pair with his eyes.
“I’ll go with you,” Penelope chimed in as they headed out the door.
Archie looked at Bronco and Zeke. “Well what are you waiting for?”
“We need a few more men.”
“Grab what you need and get out of here,” he yelled.
Bronco slapped one of the newer agents on the chest. “You’ll come with us,” he said and headed out the door.
Chapter 12
May 1872
Today was the first day Archie felt well enough to walk from the dormitory to his office. It had been nearly five weeks since he was shot; and three weeks since George Hotchkiss was found.
He had been held at the Arthur farm. The boys’ parents had died, and they thought that working with Boggs was an easy way to make money. They were only trying to intimidate the judge, and that’s when George fought back.
Boggs, who was the ringleader, saw Pearl witness the entire event from the second story window. He was prepared to kill everyone and be done with it. But Geraint Arthur stepped in front of the family. He insisted that they wouldn’t be any trouble.
To make sure that was true, Boggs made the young man stay with the family; and he threatened to come back tomorrow and the day after that and finish the job if he even thought that Pearl would say something.
The boys didn’t have a long-term plan on what to do; they were just so afraid of Boggs. He had moved into their house and refused to leave; eventually bringing his sister to live with them. When Bronco and Zeke went to the farm, George was sitting at the table having tea with the only girl in the Boggs’s family. The judge was secured to the table with a leg iron. George insisted that the girl was innocent; and she was the reason he was still alive. He demanded that no harm come to her, as the Pinkerton’s led Garth Arthur and Gwen Boggs away in shackles.
Boggs arrived back at the house and a gun fight ensued, with Zeke getting shot in the arm, and Bronco killing the outlaw.
Wills it turned out, was on George’s Vigilance Committee. After witnessing the barbaric beating of James Bolton, Wills wasn’t the same. He spent most of his days at the saloon trying to forget. The Judge would go to visit him several times a week, trying to help him get his life back in order. Unfortunately, he was too far gone and became a vagabond. It didn’t stop George from trying.
It wasn’t until one day Wills mentioned about funny tasting whiskey that George thought something might be happening to his bottles.
As it turned out, Boggs had an idea for stealing whiskey deliveries and substituting the bottles for amber colored rotgut that he brewed in the Arthur’s barn.
It took about two years of planning. He made the boys get jobs as delivery men for the liquor company. They were young, trustworthy and had a reputation for making deliveries in town – whether it was coal, groceries, or liquor.
Once they seized a delivery, they would substitute the contents of the bottles for the cheap booze mixed with whiskey. As shipments progressed, they would dilute the contents more and more, until the bottles simply contained amber-colored swill.
The real whiskey would be rebottled and sold at exorbitant prices to the Arapaho Indians living just outside of Denver.
Everything was going fine until Wills mentioned something. Since George didn’t drink, he couldn’t tell if it was the truth. And since everyone in town knew the agents, he needed to find one from outside. That was when he sent a telegram to Allan Pinkerton.
Boggs threatened Wills if he said anything to anyone about his suspicions.
When Boggs and his gang found out George was onto the operation, Boggs faced him as he came out of the Bolton home. George confronted him then and there about his suspicions, and his suspicion that the Arthur boys pocketed the money for the Bolton’s coal.
That was when he was pistol whipped. Geraint dragged the judge to a wagon where they transported him to the Arthur home.
How they managed to get him to the wagon without anyone seeing anything, Archie would never know.
The report was signed Bronson Wauneka, Angus Hightower and Zeke Preston.
Archie closed the report, thankful that his agents had done a good job, and only Boggs was killed. Marianne pleaded for leniency for the boys, but the trial was being performed in a different county by a judge and committee that had no ties to Denver.
George Hotchkiss insisted on accompanying the trio to the new location; although Archie couldn’t fathom why he would staunchly defend the woman who held him prisoner.
Archie stretched his arms. He was still as weak as a kitten, but he vowed to do what was needed to get stronger each day.
A smile broke out on his lips. He knew part of his quick healing was due to Marianne being by his side.
She was ever patient as he moaned about being stuck in bed. She held onto him as he took his first steps once he could stand. She brought him his meals, changed his sheets. Tended his wound. She wouldn’t let anyone else care for him, but her.
He planned on telling her his feelings but when they were finally alone, words failed him. He pushed the report aside and picked up a pile of letters on his desk and started thumbing through them. Pearl knocked on his office door.
“Come in,” Archie beckoned to her. She placed the tray and a pot of tea on the corner of his desk.
“My mam wanted me to be sure to convey her appreciation for everything you’ve done for us.” She twisted nervously. “And especially for not firing me.”
“Fire you? Why would I fire you? Pearl, you are one of the best cooks I’ve ever seen. It would be a disservice to the agency.” He gave her a crooked grin. “Besides. I would have a mutiny on my hands.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“How’s your father?”
“Better. There is someone coming in during the evenings now to help until he goes to bed. It finally gives Mam a rest.”
“I’m glad for that.” He watched Pearl hesitate for a second. “Is there something else?”
“Yes. I wanted to apologize to you for not saying anything before. I was terrified that he was going to hurt me or my family. And this agency is part of my family as well. I had to keep quiet.”
“I understand, Pearl. Fear is a very powerful motivator. Almost as powerful as love.”
Pearl gave him a nod and left the room. He heard Pearl speaking to Marianne in the hallway. It brought him
great joy to have his Pinkerton family together again. Not that he didn’t miss the agents that were out in the field… but the ones that were at the office every day, made it more like… home.
He was about to open the letter on the top of the pile when he heard a knock on the front door. Marianne swept by the door on her way to answer it. He wondered who it was, as most people didn’t knock.
He heard a shout of surprise from Marianne, followed by a commotion in the hallway.
He picked up his cane and hobbled to his door. Peering around the corner Archie saw a man swinging Marianne around like a sack of potatoes. When he finally released her, Marianne stepped back and a frown appeared on her forehead.
“Connor! What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Well I thought three weeks was enough time to think about what I asked you.”
“Well… I…”
He tried to pick her up again, but Marianne stepped back. “Didn’t you miss me as much as I missed you?”
“I honestly haven’t had a moment to think about anything.”
“Not to worry, I’m here now and we can make plans to return to Chicago.”
Archie watched the scene unfold. When the man mentioned Chicago, Archie stepped in the hallway.
“Who is this, Marianne?”
Marianne stepped away from Connor. “This is Connor Boyle. You met him when you visited Chicago.”
“That’s right. I remember. What I don’t remember, is seeing a bulletin that there was an agent from Chicago coming out this way.”
“I didn’t send one. This isn’t a business trip.”
“Then what brings you out here?”
“I came to get Marianne.”
“Whatever for?”
The young agent grinned and grabbed Marianne’s hand, pulling her closer to him. “We are getting married. I came to fetch my bride home.”
Surprise coursed through every bone in his body. He felt his ears start to burn and his vision skewed. He lifted his cane and crashed it against the ground.
“Absolutely not!” he yelled. Marianne jumped. “I forbid her to go back to Chicago.”
“Forbid?” Marianne piped up. Archie could see her face scrunch as it did right before she gave him a piece of her mind. “You can’t …”
An Agent for Marianne (The Pinkerton Matchmaker Book 49) Page 8