An Undercover Detective's Bride

by Blythe Carver

  “We all did,” Holly mourned. “We certainly made her decision no easier.”

  Phoebe checked the clock on the wall. “Perhaps we should discuss this later, Martha is expecting us.”

  “Martha?” he asked, surprised at this sudden change in subject.

  Cate explained, “We had planned to spend the morning with her, as there are some… questions which Molly wished to ask.” She blushed, averting her eyes.

  He understood immediately. He’d been paying attention to Molly for the last several days, her appetite, the fact that it took little to tire her. He had suspected her of being with child but naturally did not dare breathe a word of it. He would not know where to begin if he tried.

  So the sisters were going to Martha’s, trusting her experience and wisdom. Something about the entire affair struck him as very sweet.

  And his heart ached for Rachel, for he knew she would wish to be part of such a gathering. She would want to know if there was any way of making her sister’s upcoming months more bearable. She would want to be right by her side through every stage, through each new symptom.

  Just another thing for her to hate him for. Just another thing he had taken from her with his carelessness.

  “I suspect we shall be fine here.” He forced a smile, injecting a positive note into his voice. In reality, he had no idea whether Rachel would have come around or not since their fight. Perhaps she would avoid him, and he supposed this was for the best.

  Phoebe would not be there to separate them this time, and there was no telling what they might say to hurt each other when left on their own.

  The memory of his heartless, terrible accusations stung. He had always believed himself to be above such nonsense, and he certainly believed himself to be better than the sort of man who would be deliberately hurtful toward a woman.

  She was a woman whose heart was dearer to him that his own. By rights, he should have gone out of his way to spare her.

  As if reading his thoughts, Phoebe gave him a gentle pat on the arm before leaving the kitchen. “Don’t worry,” she murmured. “We had a long talk with her last night. She understands these things happen, and I doubt she will be as angry today as she was last night.”

  He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to thank her or ask her exactly what she meant by that.

  “Just the same, it might be better if you avoided her. And if we hear you started another fight?” She lowered her brows, eyes narrowing.

  “You don’t need to tell me.” He managed to smile, and so did she. No, he had no desire to inspire her sisters to take up arms against him.

  Though he did wish he understood what they had talked about, and what Phoebe meant when she said these things happen. Perhaps Rachel would illuminate him, if she was still speaking to him.

  He supposed only time would tell.

  With the women out of the house, there was only one thing left to do. Rather than tiptoeing about the place like a criminal or like a villain in one of Cate’s plays, he would approach Rachel and do what he could to smooth things over.

  He did not wish to fight. While he held no childish belief that she would throw herself into his arms or any such thing, he did want them to be friends. He wanted her to know he was not the enemy.

  It was with this in mind that he ascended the stairs only to find her descending, a look of determination on her face and in the set of her shoulders.

  She appeared surprised to see him.

  “Oh, it’s you.”

  He couldn’t decide whether she was glad or unhappy about this.

  “Yes, it is me. I’m still here.”

  She scowled, though he sensed it was not directed at him.

  “Forgive me. I’ve been so clumsy. It seems I can’t get the right words out of my mouth. I knew you would be here, obviously. In fact, I wished to speak with you. I had to wait until my sisters left.”

  This piqued his interest. “Just what did you have in mind?”

  “The two of us leaving while they’re out of the house.”

  Nothing could have surprised him more.

  17

  Once she had brought him to the room she’d been sharing with her sisters, he could see what she’d prepared. “I thought they would never go downstairs,” she confided. Her belongings were in a valise on the bed, still open in case she’d forgotten anything. Beside it were several stuffed envelopes.

  He pointed to them. “And what are those?”

  “Letters which I wrote for each of them, along with one for Lewis, one for Rance, even one for Jesse which I hope Martha will read to him.”

  “You’ve been quite busy, I take it.”

  She snorted without humor. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “They told me—”

  “Yes, I can imagine what they told you. It was what I want them to believe. I knew it was a silly waste of time, trying to convince them that I needed to go. So I allowed them to believe they had convinced me.”

  He gaped at her, leaving her to wonder whether he was truly shocked or merely surprised at her ability to lie so easily. “And you think they’ll ever forgive you for this?”

  It was with dismay that she found her temper threatening to flare. Hadn’t she sworn to herself that she would not start another fight with him?

  Yet here he was, the man whose reasoning had convinced her of the need to run away, making it sound as though she had done wrong. “You said it was for the best. I gave it a great bit of thought and decided you’re right. I won’t have them sacrificing the rest of their lives for my sake. I must go.”

  Why did he look at her the way he did? He stared as if he had never seen a woman before.

  “You intend to go now?”

  “If at all possible,” she confirmed with a nod. “I thought it would be best to go while my sisters were out visiting.”

  “With Molly in her condition? You think it would be best to upset her so?”

  Her cheeks flushed, her tongue tied. Never did a man reference such conditions in so casual a manner. “You are very bold.”

  “I don’t mean to give offense, but I’ve never understood this determination to ignore the natural processes of life. No one had to tell me your sister was expecting, though I suspected that was the meaning behind this sudden visit with Martha.” Then, his eyes widened. “Don’t tell me it was your idea.”

  “And what if it was?” She stared at him, defiant.

  Rather than tell her how wrong she’d been, he laughed. “You do beat all.”

  “I suppose I should take that as a compliment,” she said with a sniff.

  He nodded. “That is the spirit in which it was intended. Though I still think this is a mistake.”

  “This was your idea!” There went her temper. She had lost control of it already.

  To his credit, he did not rise to the bait. He remained calm as he reminded her, “I didn’t mean you have to stay. I mean I don’t believe this is the best way to go about leaving. There will be several rather heartbroken young women left in your wake. Do you wish to do this to them?”

  The truth of his words tugged at her heart, making her decision more difficult than ever. “You are supposed be making this easier for me, not more difficult.”

  He frowned, his eyes softening. “It is not my intention to make things difficult for you, on the contrary, I want everything to be as easy as possible. But I know you.”

  “You know nothing about me. That is one mistake you have made from the start.” She drew a deep breath, throwing back her shoulders as she did. “Knowing my last name, where I was born, the situation surrounding my return to Carson City. None of it is the same as knowing me. The real me.”

  To her surprise, not to mention a slight bit of dismay, he drew closer. She smelled the cologne he wore, the pomade in his hair. The scent from his skin, so masculine. He attracted her so.

  “You’re wrong about that. I do know you,” he murmured, watching her with great interest.

 
It took all of her resolve not to melt in the heat of his gaze.

  She found herself at a loss as he breached the space between them. “Oh?” she managed with a shaky laugh. “Just what is it you think you know about me?”

  She wished she knew whether she wanted him to come closer or to leave her alone entirely. She knew it ought to be the latter rather than the former, a proper young lady did not spend time alone in the bedroom with a man, and she was already breaking enough rules. This was only making it worse, the breathless anticipation, wondering what he had in mind.

  The problem was, she sensed that she was already aware of what he had in mind. And she wished she were truly against it.

  “Well,” he began, looking down at the bed and the envelopes she’d placed there. “I know you would stop at nothing to spare your sisters. Hence your taking an entire night to write letters to them, apologizing for what it is you’re about to do.”

  “That is hardly what I had in mind, seeing as how the letters are here before you, it doesn’t exactly take a detective to provide such insight.” Good heavens, was she teasing him? Was that what was going on here? She could hardly believe the words coming from her lips. She ought to tell him to leave her alone, to keep his distance. To get out of her room, for heaven’s sake.

  Though it wasn’t her room, any more than the room in which he had been staying with his own. But the principles remain the same.

  Why, then, could she not bring herself to order him out? She could not even bring herself to ask that he keep his distance. She didn’t want him to.

  “You want a bit more insight? All right, then. You’re the sort of person willing to sacrifice yourself and your happiness for that of those you love. It breaks your heart, knowing you won’t be here to support your sister in her time of need. You feel as though this is a betrayal, as though you’re not living up to some unspoken promise, the promise that you would always be there for each other. Isn’t that so?”

  His words left her shaken. Her mouth suddenly went dry. She swallowed, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips. Something about the way he watched as she did this give her pause, making her question whether that was, in fact, the right thing to do at that moment. Yet she had to do so if she was expected to speak.

  “Well?” He prompted. “I can continue.” Without waiting for her to grant permission, he went on. “I know you love fiercely. I know you have a strong sense of right and wrong. I know you possess a great deal of intelligence. I sensed that from the first, back in Baltimore. Not for a moment that you strike me as being like the giggling, flirtatious young women I might ordinarily have met. Those women have never held any interest for me. You, however, did.”

  She could barely breathe. “I did?” He nodded, a soft smile playing across his mouth. “I assumed you wished to speak with me so as to avoid earning my suspicion.”

  “On the contrary. I enjoyed speaking with you. It was, perhaps, the best part of my day, and not simply because I spent so much of my time there dealing with thugs and criminals.” He chuckled, all but reading her thoughts.

  She had only just been about to accuse him, albeit teasingly, of paying her a rather awkward compliment. With the company he had been forced to keep, knowing that he looked forward to hers was hardly a point of pride.

  “Why do you think I invited you to have coffee with me?” he asked.

  “At the time? I hoped it was because you…” She averted her gaze, a blush creeping up her neck. It was becoming harder to breathe with each passing minute, yet he would grant her no respite. “Why do you feel the need to question me so? Don’t you see how…”

  “Of course. How clumsy of me. I’ll come out and tell you, then. It might do you good to know that I invited you out with me because I found you quite interesting. I found your company delightful. I wanted the chance to enjoy it outside the telegraph office. That’s all.”

  Her heart thumped madly in her chest. “I feared you did so because you wanted to learn what I knew. To perhaps, I don’t know how to say it, divert my attention?”

  She glanced his way to find his brows drawn together. To his credit, he appeared to take this seriously, rather than simply brushing off her concerns as a matter of little importance. “I can understand how you would draw that conclusion,” he admitted. “However, that was the furthest thing from my mind. I mean that sincerely. I found you to be very—”

  She held up a hand, signaling for him to stop. “There is no sense in this,” she reminded him. There was a great deal of mourning in her voice, as the truth settled over her heart. “And we’re wasting time. I need to be on my way.”

  “But…” He sputtered, tongue-tied and determined to make his point.

  Oh, how she hated having to say it. “No. That was the past. This is now. I need to know you will help me. This is not only for me but for my sisters. Will you help me get away from here before they return?”

  “It isn’t that easy.”

  “You led me to believe it was. You told me yourself that you had already discussed with your uncle the possibility of taking me elsewhere. Knowing what little I do about you, I can’t help but trust that you would have made the arrangements in advance. After all, there was no telling how much time we would have to settle matters when you arrived. You must have a place in mind, and it must already be prepared for me. Isn’t that so?”

  He ran a hand through his hair, chuckling grimly.

  She didn’t like his hair the way it was now, it had been much more attractive before, though she supposed he’d grown it out as a means of disguising himself.

  “I see you did quite a bit of thinking when you should have been asleep,” he murmured, sounding a bit crestfallen. “I wish I felt better about this. I wish it didn’t feel as though I was taking you away from the people who love you.”

  The reminder sent a bolt of pain through her chest, but she stayed strong. “That’s for me to worry about. All you need worry about is getting me where I need to be. Will you do this for me or not?”

  His nearness was enough to steal the breath from her lungs. When he looked deep into her eyes, she didn’t indulge in the impulse to fall into his arms.

  This was far too important to allow infatuation to get in the way. This was the difference between life and death.

  Her life was in his hands. For the first time since she had come to this grim conclusion, she understood there was not another pair of hands she would rather be in.

  He drew a long breath, his forehead creasing as if he were in pain, and opened his mouth to reply.

  “Rachel! Mason!”

  They both jumped, startled at the urgency in Rance’s voice. He slammed the front door shut. “Where are you?” he called out.

  They hurried from the room, running downstairs, and found Rance looking disheveled, exhausted, but elated, nonetheless. “He’s gone. Bill and Jackson just reported it to me.”

  Rachel gaped at him. “You mean it?”

  “How can they be sure?” Mason wasn’t so easily convinced.

  “A man fitting the description of Liam O’Connor boarded the eight o’clock train, heading east. I went so far as to make a stop at the telegraph office, hoping to have word from your uncle.”

  Rance thrust an envelope into Mason’s hand. He opened it, quickly skimming the lines.

  A slow smile crept over his face before he read the message aloud, wonder and relief in his voice. “Leader set to return. All is well. Congratulations.”

  At this, Rachel promptly fainted.

  18

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right here?” Rachel looked up and down the train platform, chewing her lip. “You’ll be waiting alone.”

  He grinned. “Nothing to worry about. I’ve waited longer than this and am accustomed to traveling on my own. The train should be here shortly, and you need to be on your way home. Heaven knows you’ve waited long enough.”

  She glanced behind her, toward the wagon which carried her sisters. All of them seemed ov
erjoyed at the prospect of going home. Even Phoebe would join them, having already spent more time than she had planned away from the ranch.

  “It seems everything is in order, then.” Why, then, did she insist on lingering at his side?

  It didn’t matter. She had her life in Carson City, and he had his. He could not stay, and she could not leave. To leave would mean to forfeit her part of the family inheritance, not to mention the inheritances of her sisters.

  He wished for five minutes alone with her late father, that he might shake some sense into the man. What sort of fool concocted such strange terms?

  He supposed the man had wished to instill a sense of love and pride in his daughters, all of whom had been raised far from the ranch and the sort of life one had to lead if they expected to survive on one. That, he could see.

  Even so, the man had been a fool. He understood why all those who mentioned Richard Reed did so with a note of smugness in their voice. He had clearly been a man who made himself difficult to know or to get along with.

  “I suppose I had better be on my way, then. I’ve held my sisters back long enough.” She tried to smile, though it didn’t extend itself to the rest of her face. Her eyes were troubled, deeply so.

  He asked himself whether it would be a matter of breaking propriety for him to take her hand. He threw caution to the wind did just that, closing his fingers around hers. How they trembled.

  “Be happy here,” he murmured. “Be happy, love your sisters, and don’t forget about me. You know how to reach me if you ever need to do so.”

  “I will, and the same goes for you. You know where to find me. At least for the rest of this year.” She let out a soft laugh, one tinged with sadness.

  How he wished he had the courage to ask from where her sadness derived. But that would make him little better than a cad, forcing her to discuss things neither of them had a place to discuss. Not when they were about to part ways forever. It would be cruel to ask for more than he was entitled to, not to mention the height of selfishness.