Flights of Fancy

by Jen Turano

  He’d been woefully unsuccessful with that, and by the time the meeting had come to an unpleasant end two full days later, the union men were threatening a strike.

  Having missed the last train home to Canonsburg that day, he’d returned to his yet-to-be-finished mansion in Shadyside. Greeted at the door by his efficient secretary, Mr. Downing, he’d been handed a schedule filled with meetings for the following day, which ended any hopes he’d had about returning earlier than expected to Glory Manor.

  “Ian, I was hoping you’d show up soon. Your horse has taken to sulking in the stable, refusing to allow anyone near him.”

  Glancing around the station, he found Jack Evans, owner of the Canonsburg Livery Stable, striding his way.

  Ian shook Jack’s hand and smiled. “I’m sure Rumor is put out with me. He’s a difficult horse at the best of times and has never enjoyed being left behind. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the time to make arrangements to have him transported back to Pittsburgh with me.”

  “He might be difficult, but he’s a beauty.” Jack fell into step beside Ian as they walked toward the livery. “You got him at Garrison Farms, didn’t you?”

  Ian nodded. “I’ve been considering making another trip to Garrison’s to add a few additional horses to my stable. You’re welcome to join me if you’re in the market to increase yours as well.”

  Jack’s smile turned rueful. “The Garrison horses are a little steep for my blood. But if you are looking to add to your stable, you should make the trip soon. I’ve heard Mr. Garrison is experiencing some financial difficulties and might not be in business much longer.”

  “Garrison Farms produces some of the best horseflesh in the country.”

  Walking into the stable, Jack shrugged as they moved to the stall Rumor was in. “From what I’ve heard, Mr. Garrison apparently took out a loan to expand his operation, wanting to move it from its current location to Kentucky, but the bank is calling in that loan earlier than expected. Sounds like a shady deal, but not something out of the ordinary around these parts.”

  “You think someone’s trying to get his business away from him?”

  “That’s my guess.” Jack opened the door to Rumor’s stall, which had Ian’s horse immediately presenting both men with his backside. “I would say Rumor is still in a bit of a snit.”

  “I’ll have Hank give him extra attention. Rumor seems to like Hank more than he likes me at times.”

  “Hank’s no longer at Glory Manor. He quit three days ago, something to do with Amos accusing him of letting the goats free and then chasing him off the farm with a pitchfork . . . or it might have been an axe, now that I think about it.”

  “I knew I should have come home sooner.”

  “There’s no need to worry that Glory Manor is suffering,” a voice said from behind him.

  Turning, Ian found Stanley Huxman, owner of the local feed store, walking his way.

  Ian stepped forward to shake the hand Stanley was already extending to him. “And why shouldn’t I worry?”

  “Because the good women of Canonsburg have taken a great interest, as well as a great liking, to the lovely Izzie. They’ve been out to the farm often, and from what I’ve heard, Glory Manor is running smoothly.”

  Ian blinked. “Is it really?”

  “Indeed, so there’s no reason to feel guilty about not being there.” Stanley caught Ian’s eye. “You heard Hank left?”

  “Jack just told me.”

  Stanley nodded. “He was in a right state when he arrived back in town, claiming Amos had finally completely lost his wits. But there’s no need for you to fret about your uncle. We menfolk have been taking turns riding out to check on Glory Manor, and Amos seemed perfectly fine to all of us.”

  Ian frowned. “Why did you feel the need to check up on Glory Manor?”

  Stanley leaned against Rumor’s stall. “It’s a bit of a story, Ian, but I’ll start it like this—Izzie and the children had an accident the other day when they drove into town to do some shopping. All of them were thrown out of the wagon, but by the grace of God, none of them were hurt.” Stanley reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked to be a wheel pin. He handed it to Ian. “I’ve been carrying this around with me, hoping to catch you when you got back to town. I didn’t want to worry Izzie with this, but if you look closely, it looks like someone sawed that pin.”

  Ian’s hand closed around the pin. “You think someone deliberately sabotaged the wagon?”

  “That’s what it looks like to me.” Stanley exchanged a look with Jack, then looked back to Ian. “When you add that in with Birdie’s accident with the plow, I’m afraid Amos has the right measure of things and that someone is causing mischief at Glory Manor.”

  “I think I’d call it something a little more serious than mischief,” Ian said as he moved over to where Rumor’s saddle was hanging from a hook. “I have to get to the farm.”

  “There’s also obeen curious things happening at a few farms surrounding Glory Manor,” Jack said, taking a saddle blanket down from another hook and tossing it over Rumor. “Animals dying, crops ruined, irrigation ditches running dry, and lots of animals have gone missing, escaped from their barns or pens.”

  Ian frowned. “Sparky, Uncle Amos’s dog, went missing about a month ago.”

  “Which reminds me, you’ll want to stop by Guy Wilt’s tavern after you get Rumor saddled. Guy was just visiting his sister down in Washington and saw a dog sitting on the train platform when he arrived. He thought the dog looked familiar, and when he returned to the station to come back here this morning, he realized it was Sparky.”

  “Sparky was in Washington, Pennsylvania?”

  “He was,” Jack said. “Strange thing, though. From what Guy found out from the stationmaster, Sparky showed up over a month ago but didn’t look like he’d been living it rough. And what’s even more peculiar was that he wouldn’t leave the train station, just sat there all day. The stationmaster started feeding him when he decided Sparky seemed to be waiting for someone to come take him home.”

  Stanley cleared his throat. “Sounds like someone dumped him off in Washington and might have taken him on the train to do so.”

  “Why would someone steal an old man’s dog and then not even bother to keep him?”

  Jack stepped closer to Ian. “I think it might have something to do with whomever is trying to buy up vast amounts of land around here. Talk is, there’s coal in these parts, and someone seems determined to begin mining that coal. That right there, along with the nasty suspicions we men in town have about that wheel falling off, is exactly why we’ve been taking it in turns to ride out and check on everyone at Glory Manor.”

  “And they’ve been fine? You haven’t run into any trouble?”

  “No trouble so far, and the house is still standing, something Izzie seems remarkably proud about.” Jack released a breath. “Shame there’s not more we can do about this, though, other than sending patrols out at night.”

  Ian threw the saddle on Rumor, cinched it, then turned back to Jack. “I’ll be able to do something, Jack. It might take some time to track down the culprits behind this, but I have a lot of contacts in Pittsburgh, as well as contacts who have interests in coal mining. Someone will know something, and when I find out who is behind the trouble . . .”

  “You’ll take care of them?” Jack finished for him.

  “Indeed.”

  With that, Ian swung into the saddle, thanked Jack and Stanley for their information, then headed out of the stable and down Main Street. He turned into an alley a short time later and reined Rumor to a halt in front of Wilt’s Tavern.

  Sure enough, sitting on the front porch was Sparky. The moment the dog caught sight of him, he let out a yip of excitement and raced off the porch, scampering around Rumor as Ian swung from the saddle.

  “He’s sure happy to see you, Ian.”

  Taking a moment to give Sparky some very enthusiastic pats and receiving some licks to the face in
return, Ian straightened and nodded to Guy Wilt, who was walking down the steps of the porch.

  “I can’t thank you enough for bringing Sparky back,” Ian said.

  Guy reached down and ruffled Sparky’s fur. “It was my pleasure. I know how Amos has been fretting about this dog. I was intending to take him to the farm later today, once my help showed up to take the next shift at the tavern. But I think Sparky is delighted you’ve shown up because he can go home sooner.”

  “He does love the farm, as well as Uncle Amos.”

  “I imagine he’ll fall in love with that delightful Izzie as well,” Guy said. “I only made her acquaintance yesterday when I brought a casserole Mrs. Wilt insisted I take out to Glory Manor before it grew cold.” He smiled. “Izzie’s a charming young lady, but I wouldn’t wait too long to stake a claim, if you know what I mean. Women like that don’t stay unattached for long.”

  Wondering if the entire town had gotten it into their collective head to try their hand at matchmaking, Ian settled for sending Guy a weak smile. Telling Sparky they were going home, and then thanking Guy again, Ian swung up into the saddle, pausing when Guy stepped forward.

  “You tell Amos I sure am sorry about all his animals going missing.”

  Apprehension tickled the back of his neck. “Come again?”

  “Did Jack forget to mention that?”

  “I’m very much afraid he did.”

  Chapter 23

  Thirty minutes later, after he’d heard the worst of it about the animals going missing from Guy, Ian allowed Rumor his head, hoping the breakneck speed would help him control the fury pounding through his veins.

  Having lived with a father who’d unleashed his fury on Ian for the smallest infraction, Ian had made a point to always keep his temper in check, not wanting to turn into the father he’d feared every day of his life while he’d lived with the man.

  His father had also, besides physically abusing his only son, wielded ridicule like a knife, the frequency of that ridicule convincing Ian he was nothing but a fool, until he’d been rescued by Uncle Amos and Aunt Birdie.

  Consequently, appearing foolish was one of Ian’s deepest fears, which was, no matter how he tried to deny it, one of the reasons he’d lost respect for Andrew Carnegie—a man who’d certainly made him feel like a fool, as well as incompetent, by forcing him out of the negotiations.

  He was not incompetent when it came to matters of business, and he would prove it to the powerful men of Pittsburgh, although how he would . . .

  Sparky suddenly dashed ahead, dragging Ian from his less-than-pleasant thoughts. Yipping madly, Sparky turned onto Glory Lane, Rumor pounding down the lane after him.

  Feeling the last vestiges of the fury he’d been trying to control fade away, Ian reined Rumor in as the farmhouse sprang into view.

  Gazing around the yard, Ian found it looking very tidy indeed, the grass short and no weeds to be found. Turning his head, he found goats munching their way through another part of the yard, kept in check by one of the new hired hands, Duncan Bowman.

  Returning his attention to the house, Ian took in the sight of what seemed to be a fresh coat of paint. Who’d painted the house was anyone’s guess, and someone had also attached flower boxes filled with bright pink and yellow flowers to the porch railing that ran along the entire front of the house, lending the porch a charming air. Two large pots of flowers were sitting on either side of the steps, alongside a ball, proof that the house was once again home to children.

  Around the side of the house, he noticed laundry snapping in the breeze, his attention immediately pulled from that laundry when Uncle Amos walked into view, stopping in his tracks when he caught sight of Sparky racing his way.

  Setting down the chicken he’d been holding, Uncle Amos knelt, held open his arms, and laughed when Sparky needed no other urging and jumped directly into them, licking Uncle Amos’s face.

  Ian swung from the saddle and strode his uncle’s way. “Sparky’s certainly happy to see you.”

  Uncle Amos placed a kiss on Sparky’s head, then straightened, swiping a hand over eyes that were bright with tears. “Where’d you find him?”

  “I didn’t find him. Guy Wilt did when he was over in Washington. He recognized him and kindly brought him back to Canonsburg. He was going to bring him back to you later today.”

  Uncle Amos glanced at Sparky, now rolling around in the grass by his feet. “He ended up all the way over in Washington?”

  “He did, through no fault of his own, I think. But before we discuss that, I owe you an apology.” He caught Uncle Amos’s eye. “You’ve been saying over and over that there’s skullduggery taking place at Glory Manor, and I, well . . .”

  “Thought my suspicions were merely the rants of a man losing his wits?” Uncle Amos finished for him.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Uncle Amos surprised him by grinning. “I know my memory isn’t what it used to be, and that I’ve been overly paranoid of late.” He scratched his chin. “I just kept being told that plots were happening right underneath my nose, and what with my failing memory and all, I haven’t been able to figure out what’s true and what’s merely my imagination.” He shook his head. “I was even told that Izzie had arrived at Glory Manor to take away my chickens, which is why I scared the poor woman half to death by chasing her with my rifle.”

  The hair on the back of Ian’s neck stood at attention. “Who told you Izzie came to take your chickens?”

  “Hank. He’s been telling me all sorts of rumors. But when I caught him letting the goats out of their pen a day or two ago, he called me a crazy old codger and quit on the spot.” Uncle Amos’s white brows drew together. “He apparently told everyone in town I’d chased him away with an axe, but I don’t remember doing that. In fact, I’m surprisingly certain that never happened.”

  Ian touched his uncle’s arm. “I don’t want you to worry about any of that.” He drew in a deep breath, hoping that would help control the fury that was once again racing through his veins. “I intend to take care of the matter, and believe me, someone—although I’m beginning to think there are numerous people involved—will be held accountable for the nasty business that’s been happening on this farm.”

  “Then I’ll leave the matter in your more-than-capable hands.” Uncle Amos gestured toward the house. “And with that said, I think there’s a few people over there who’d like to welcome you home.”

  Turning, Ian found what seemed to be half of Canonsburg spilling out of the house. Anna Gillespie was leading the charge toward him, followed by Maggie Rogers, her daughter, Susan, and right behind them, Aunt Birdie—walking spryly toward him and without her cane.

  He strode over to his aunt, giving her cheek a kiss before he stepped back. “Where’s your cane?”

  Aunt Birdie beamed. “Doc McBride came to check on me yesterday and gave me an almost clean bill of health. I’m feeling a good ten years younger, and because of that, I’ve abandoned my cane almost entirely now.”

  Ian grinned. “Which is wonderful, but don’t overdo it. You might feel ten years younger—which would make you, what, eighteen now?—but you still need to be careful.” He nodded to the house even as Aunt Birdie rolled her eyes. “I see the farm has enjoyed some improvements while I’ve been away for all of four days.”

  “Improvements that are due to Izzie.”

  “Izzie painted the house?”

  Anna stepped forward, exchanging a look with Maggie and Susan before all three women began looking at him quite as if he were a small child who had just said something amusing.

  “Izzie’s talents don’t really extend to executing her grand ideas,” Anna began, her eyes twinkling. “She’s more proficient with organizing. She did try and help the men paint the house. She was relieved of that duty, though, when she began painting flowers along the window sashes, thinking it would add a touch of whimsy.”

  Aunt Birdie grinned. “They were rather unusual flowers, you see, and were t
aking her forever. The men finally fetched me because they didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t seem to be bothered at all by being banished from that task, but that might have been because I told her she was welcome to paint flowers in my sitting room—after those rooms get their fresh coat of paint, of course.”

  Ian looked at the house again, finding the body of it still painted white, but that the trim had been changed to a bluish-gray, as had the railing around the porch. “Was it Izzie’s idea to add the colored trim?”

  “It was,” Aunt Birdie said. “She consulted a book Susan brought from the store, a house painting guide.” She smiled. “Izzie wanted to paint the entire house yellow with green trim, but I convinced her I might not be ready for that much change.”

  She gave his arm a pat. “You’ll be pleased to learn that the fences have now been completely mended, the yard is almost free of weeds, and the ladies have fully stocked the kitchen. Why, we’ve been provided with so many tasty dishes that I fear my new dress Izzie brought me from the store is doomed to become a little snug on me before I get a chance to wear it to church.”

  For a second, Ian almost couldn’t take in what she was telling him. While he’d been amassing his fortune in Pittsburgh, he’d forgotten what it meant to belong to a small community. People helped one another; it was simply what they did. But the people of Canonsburg had gone above and beyond what he would have ever expected.

  Clearing his throat, Ian nodded to the crowd. “Your kindness to my aunt and uncle means so much to me. You’ve taken time out of your lives to help them, and I’d like to compensate you for your—”

  “Don’t be daft,” Maggie interrupted, waving his offer straight aside. “We don’t want to be compensated. Besides”—she smiled—“you’re already going to compensate us because Glory Manor is hosting a picnic tomorrow after church.”