An Agent for Claudette (The Pinkerton Matchmaker Book 4)

by Christine Sterling

  “What’s going on in there?” Mav asked as they moved into the foyer.

  “Perhaps they are just discussing the weather?” Marianne volunteered.

  “It doesn’t sound like the weather.”

  “Archie is handling the agent’s concerns right now. I believe an agent in there is raising a few right now.”

  “Is that Wyatt? He never yells,” Bronco responded.

  “Well, he is yelling now,” Marianne calmly replied, before taking another sip of her tea.

  Mav hit him on the arm with the back of his hand, “Let’s go check it out.”

  The two entered the office and closed the door behind them.

  “What is going on here?” Bronco asked. “They can hear you in the next county over.” He looked at a red-faced Archie standing behind his desk. His fists were clamped so tight that his knuckles were white.

  “Ask him,” Wyatt said, pointing to Archie.

  “Well?” Mav prodded.

  “We were just discussing that we are expanding the agency operations. Allan would like to see us expand business operations to the northern territories and further to the west coast.”

  “That doesn’t sound like anything to get upset about.”

  “Read this then.” Wyatt slapped the folded newsprint against Bronco’s chest. Bronco took the paper and scanned it. “Out loud.”

  “Help Wanted: female agents… What?” Bronco looked at Archie in disbelief. No wonder Wyatt was upset.

  “What brought this on?”

  “It was a mandate from the head office. We are increasing our caseload and the suggestion was to hire female detectives to supplement our resources.”

  “So, you are just going to have a bunch of women show up out here and say ‘hey, I want a job?’ It says right here,” Bronco was jabbing the paper with his finger, “interviews will occur on the premises the week of May 16.”

  “That’s only a few weeks away.”

  “It also says, that they will be provided paid training, a stipend, etcetera.”

  “Who’s going to train them?” Mav wondered.

  “Why you are, of course," Archie replied.

  Wyatt lunged over the desk and his fist met Archie’s lip, busting it open. Tasting blood, Archie returned the swing and caught Wyatt on the cheek. Wyatt staggered backwards and fell on the desk, knocking the papers to the floor. He leaned himself up and touched his cheek. Giving a huge grin, he leapt up on the desk and was raring for another go.

  Bronco, who was the first one to admit he enjoyed a good fight, knew this wasn’t the way to handle things and went to pull Wyatt from his crouching position. He wasn’t expecting the other agent to be moving forward as he was pulling backwards, and both of them ended up tumbling onto the floor and crashing into the pot on the other side of the room.

  “I’ll give you that, lads, but we will not have a repeat of this. Am I clear?” Archie stood and brushed off his slacks. “I’ll call a meeting with all the men in a few days to let them know about our expected visitors. Until then…” a sound at the door caught their attention.

  Archie walked over and pulled the door open, letting Marianne and Victoria fall into a heap on the floor. Bronco let out a laugh. Figures they were listening in.

  “Marianne,” Archie began, calling out to his secretary. “I’ll ask you once again, and only once. What is your explanation for being at the door?” Before Marianne could respond, Mav came to her defense.

  “Stop it, Gordon. The noise probably brought them in.” Archie looked from the agent to Marianne. Bronco could see he was trying to contain the furor that was simmering below the surface.

  Finally, Marianne blurted out, “I was just letting you handle things but then I was concerned when I heard the loud crash. You were able to handle things, weren’t you?”

  Bronco laughed again, gaining him a glare from Archie and Marianne. Marianne gasped and placed herself in front of Victoria. Her robe was opened just a bit and Bronco noticed the look that passed over Mav’s face before disappearing. Interesting. Very interesting, indeed.

  Archie sighed. “Yes. The lads were just leaving.” Victoria whispered something to Marianne and then scampered out of the room up the stairs. Bronco noticed Mav’s eyes followed her the entire time.

  The men stepped out of the way and headed back to the dormitory. It was going to get more interesting when they shared the news with the rest of the men.

  The men had just over two weeks before Archie came to speak to them again. Bronco had just finished an assignment of finding a wayward young miss that disappeared from her estate a few days prior. It was one of his easier assignments.

  He knew if he poured on the charm the local ladies would talk and it didn’t take long for him to find them sharing the news that their friend went on a secret elopement. Unfortunately, the man was only interested in her fortune. Bronco was able to track them down and dissuade the man from continuing the relationship. He returned the heartbroken miss back to her family with her … fortune intact.

  Quite a few of the men were just returning from assignments. His roommate, Chas Bryant, was off again, and was one of the lucky few that didn’t have to train one of the new agents coming in over the next weeks. It really all depended on who was lucky enough to get sent back out before the women arrived. Bronco was hoping that he would be called up in the next few days, so he could be gone before the interviews began.

  The news of female agents had been met with mixed results by the men in the dormitory. Some of them were against the women coming onboard, others appeared indifferent. Bronco had mixed feelings. He knew that a woman would be able to help in ways the other male agents couldn’t. They could gather intelligence in places that men couldn’t go. But Bronco kept thinking back on Victoria’s words… Love at first sight.

  How was he supposed to find a wife if he was saddled with a female partner?

  He was practicing his knife throwing when Archie walked through the door.

  “I wish you would not throw those knives indoors, Bronson. I don’t know if I’m going to be scalped or not.”

  Stephen chuckled and went back to writing his latest report.

  “Bronco, can you get all the other men to come out here. I want to address you all at the same time.”

  Bronco slipped his fingers between his lips and let out a whistle that made Archie visibly cringe. He then followed it with a very loud whoop that had the agents scrambling from their rooms.

  “Is that really necessary? It sounds very savage.” Bronco just grinned wider at Archie’s discomfort.

  “What’s up?” one of the agents asked, taking an available seat on the sofa.

  “I wanted to let you know that the first round of interviewees will be arriving on Monday. I know you are all gentlemen, but please be on your best behavior.” Archie shot a look at Bronco specifically. “The ladies will already be overwhelmed when they arrive, I just ask you to welcome them if you happen to engage in conversation. I don’t expect any of you to be at the main house unless absolutely necessary. I don’t want the ladies losing focus. Are we clear?”

  The men murmured their agreement.

  “Now,” Archie continued, “there is one matter I need to discuss with you. It relates to their training.”

  Bronco leaned in to listen as Archie explained the requirements of training the new agents. When he was done the room erupted into pandemonium.

  Bronco had spent most of the night tossing and turning. He was grateful Chas was out on assignment. He wouldn’t have been happy if Bronco kept him awake most of the night. He was disappointed when Archie said that they must marry their trainees for the first case. The practical side of him understood, but the man in him wanted to roar.

  He knew that annulment was an option, but he believed that marriage was for the long haul. He was truly hoping to find someone that he would considering marrying. Perhaps he even was hoping for a love at first sight situation. But now, he just hoped he would get along with whomev
er he was training.

  Maybe it was time to retire. He had been a Pinkerton for over ten years, maybe it was time to find something else. Something less… dangerous.

  Bronco leaned up to strike a match and lit the oil lamp on the table between the two beds. It cast a glow around the room. The room was simple – two beds, two dressers and the side table. It served its purpose, which was just to be a place to sleep.

  He found a notepad and pencil on the table and started scribbling a list. He looked it over and then folded it, placing it in his billfold. When he was done he flopped back on the bed, throwing the covers to the side. Covering his eyes with the crook of his arm, Bronco did something that he hadn’t done in years. He prayed.

  Chapter 3

  May 1871, Denver Colorado

  Claudette LeBas arrived in Denver on a Saturday night. She was expected to arrive promptly on Monday morning, and since the train didn’t stop on Sunday, she thought it better to arrive early than late.

  She found lodging at the Hawthorne Boarding House for Women, which was recommended by someone named Marianne Chapman, who sent her the telegram inviting her to Denver. Using a few precious coins, she sent a telegram back and reserved a room for the week. She didn’t know exactly how long she would be in Denver, but a week seemed long enough. If she was needed to stay longer, then she would figure that out when the time came.

  Mrs. Hawthorne, a widow, led Claudette up a narrow staircase to the second floor. She stopped at the third door and slid a key into the lock. “This is your room for the week. I gave you the back because you requested privacy.” She pushed the door open and entered the room, using her hand to wave Claudette in.

  Claudette moved into the room. It was smaller than she imagined or was used to. A bed with a chenille coverlet took up nearly half the available space. There was a dresser, a washstand and a mirror.

  “Do you like the room?”

  Claudette put her suitcase down next to the bed. “It is perfect for my needs. Thank you very much.”

  “What brings you to Denver?”

  “A job. I’m interviewing this week.”

  “How exciting,” the woman said, not appearing to be excited. She started to head back to the hallway and pointed further down the hall. “The lavatory is the door at the end. We are very fortunate to have indoor plumbing.”

  Claudette’s home in Louisiana was one of the first to get indoor toilets when they were available, but it appeared Mrs. Hawthorne was very proud of it, so Claudette nodded in appreciation.

  “How many rooms on this floor?”

  “Four, so you will be sharing with those rooms.” Claudette walked to the window to look out to the park below. “This room has the best view of the park. Dinner is at 5 o’clock sharp. Breakfast is served at 7 in the morning. Coffee and hot water for tea are available around the clock in the kitchen. Cups are on the sideboard. I put towels in the dresser, if you need anything else, just let me know.”

  “Thank you. It is lovely. I may just take a quick nap and then wander for a bit.”

  “Have a good rest then,” Mrs. Hawthorne said, pulling the door closed.

  “Oh, wait,” Claudette called after her, “Is there a church nearby?”

  Mrs. Hawthorne entered the room and walked to the window, pointing past the park. “There is a Baptist church about two blocks that way.”

  “Where is the nearest Catholic church?”

  Mrs. Hawthorne pointed in a different direction, “Go one block up Main, turn left on Parker and the church is about a block on the left. You can’t miss it. It looks like a church.” Mrs. Hawthorne laughed at her own joke.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Hawthorne, you’ve been most helpful.”

  Mrs. Hawthorne nodded, leaving the room and pulling the door tightly closed behind her. Claudette walked over and turned the lock, breathing a sigh of relief.

  It wasn’t well received in Louisiana when she decided to leave. Her father and brother-in-law tried to talk her out of it and to consider remarrying to one of the local men. Unfortunately, Claudette knew every single one of those men – they were all gamblers, womanizers and had a taste for spirits. No thank you, give her a God-fearing man who would protect her if necessary.

  She returned to the window and looked out over the park. It was still cool, downright cold compared to where she lived about two hours north of New Orleans. She was glad she packed some warmer items – her winter jacket from home, made a perfect spring coat for this area.

  She observed children playing, their mothers or governesses sitting on the benches chatting. There was a balloon vendor in the far corner, making something from the long balloons much to the delight of the children jumping in front of him. And on the other side appeared to be an open market, selling produce. In the middle of the park, however, heading towards her, was an open area of cobblestone walkways, and that is where she saw him.

  He appeared very tall and dark compared to the pale blonde woman next to him. It wasn’t his height that captured her attention, it was his long dark hair that fell down his back and nearly reached the bottom of his suitcoat. He wore tan pants and boots and had a beaded sheath tied around the leg. She had never seen anyone so beautiful before, if a man could be described as beautiful.

  In fact, she had never seen anyone quite like him at all, in all her years of living in Louisiana. Men there cropped their hair closer to their heads and most had facial hair. This man was clean shaven. She wondered what color his eyes were.

  Almost as if he had heard her unspoken wish, he lifted his eyes to her window. Claudette jumped behind the curtain, hoping he didn’t see her. Silly goose, she chided herself. There wasn’t any way he could see her from that distance.

  She leaned around the curtain, peeking back out to the park. Her heart started to race, and her breath picked up a bit as she watched him continue his walk closer to the corner where she looked upon him. What was coming over her?

  The man and his companion turned to head towards a different block and Claudette breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps she was more tired than she originally thought. She would get unpacked, have a quick rest and then venture out to explore the area before nightfall. If she was lucky, she just might find the house on Chain Bridge Road where she was supposed to be Monday morning.

  She quickly unpacked her bag, removing the towels from the dresser so she could put her things away. She hung up her dress on the changing screen in hopes that the wrinkles would be out of it by Monday morning. It had taken her nearly six days via train to travel from New Orleans to Denver, with a stop in Chicago.

  She paid the difference from the ticket Miss Chapman sent her to secure a sleeping car with a lock. The amount was quite dear, nearly thrice the amount of the original ticket, but Claudette didn’t want to travel in the crowded passenger car.

  She still felt every single bump along the ride and was grateful for the stops along the way where she could get out and stretch and grab a quick bite to eat. However, those quick stops didn’t give her enough rest.

  Just a quick nap and she would probably be much better. She laid on the bed, sinking into the warmth of the duvet and rolled on her side, plumping the pillow as she moved. Closing her eyes, she allowed sleep to take over, still wondering what color eyes belonged to the striking stranger in the park.

  When she woke it took her a moment to realize where she was. The room was dark, so she must have slept longer than planned. She reached over to light the lamp on the dresser, then fumbled for the watch pinned on her travelling coat. It was six-thirty in the morning. Feeling somewhat refreshed she knew that breakfast was served in the next half hour. She had better get ready.

  Remembering that the facilities were down at the end of the hall she quickly went and took care of her morning absolutions before anyone else needed the room. She returned to her room and quickly undressed, pouring enough water in the bowl on the washstand to remove the travelling grime. If she was lucky, perhaps she could secure a bath later in the day. T
he water was cold, so she moved quickly to wash herself before dressing in a plain day dress.

  She appeared in the dining room just as Mrs. Hawthorne was putting biscuits and a pitcher of milk on the sideboard. Claudette’s mouth watered as she inhaled the smell of the fresh baked bread mixed with bacon cooking in the room off to the side. Claudette weaved her way through the four tables in the room over to where Mrs. Hawthorne was standing.

  “Feeling better? I let you sleep last night, you were just tuckered out.” She offered the platter of biscuits to Claudette, who took one and smelled it before taking a small bite. She moaned in contentment.