Hunter crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter. “I appreciate this job, brother, but I don’t think I’m much of an asset to your business.”
“Give it time. It’s only been a couple days.” He checked his watch. “Come on. It’s time to close for lunch.”
Hunter shook his head and limped behind him. They walked the short distance from the pharmacy to the Café. Wonderful smells emanated from the doorway before they even took their seats. “Ribs must be the special today,” Michael said as he studied the menu board against the wall.
“Hello, Michael. I missed you the last few days.” A slender, older waitress walked up to them, a small pad and pencil in her hand.
“Honey, this is my brother, Hunter.” Michael grinned at Hunter’s raised eyebrows. “Don’t fret, little brother. Her name happens to be Honey and we’ve been friends for a long time.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Hunter. Why, I’ve known your sister-in-law Heidi since she first came to Guthrie. If Michael hasn’t told you the entire story, you should have a couple of beers sometime and let him fill you in.”
Hunter leaned back in his chair and smirked. “No, I haven’t heard my big brother’s story.” He grinned at Michael. “But if you think I need a beer to listen to the tale, then I sure don’t want to miss this one.”
Honey winked at Michael. “That’s quite a story you haven’t told him. Better get to it. Now what can I get y’all?”
They both selected the catfish special and despite not having beer, Michael filled him in on the rough road he and Heidi had traveled before they’d finally married. Hunter particularly loved the part about his easygoing, quiet sister-in-law hitting her ex-fiancé on the head with her bridal bouquet.
Once they’d finished their meal, Hunter pushed his empty plate aside and drew his coffee cup closer. “Michael, what do you know about the Harvey Girls?”
“You mean the girls who work over at the depot?”
“Yeah.”
Michael shrugged. “Not much. The place opened up about four years ago. It seems a man by the name of Fred Harvey wasn’t too pleased with the food sold along the train routes, so he started a bunch of restaurants. From what I’ve heard the food is good and the girls that work there are from decent backgrounds.”
Hunter stirred his coffee, remembering one Harvey Girl in particular. For some reason he couldn’t get her out of his mind. It wasn’t until he was almost home the night he’d met her that he realized he didn’t even know her name. Since then he’d thought of her as ‘the angel.’
“So the women who work there are single?”
“From what I’ve heard. They have to go through an extensive process to be hired. They must be from good homes, educated, and agree to work for anywhere from three to twelve months, depending on the contract they sign. Heidi is friends with one of them, Clarissa something or other. She told Heidi they live in a boardinghouse and have strict rules to follow. Any shenanigans and they’re out on their ear.”
Hunter continued to stir his coffee, deep in thought. He’d known more than a few women over the years, but none of them interested him like the angel had. What was her story? Where was she from? But most of all, why did he get the feeling she harbored deep wounds?
“All right, little brother. Speak up.”
“What?”
“Why are you interested in the Harvey Girls? Or should I say maybe one Harvey Girl in particular?”
“No reason. I heard about the place and wondered about it.” He looked up. “That’s all.”
Michael snorted. “Sure. I guess you figure if the job at the pharmacy doesn’t work out, you can always snatch one of Rachel or Ellie’s dresses and start a career as a Harvey Girl?”
“Very funny.” Hunter grabbed the check and stood. “Time to get back to work.”
“My, aren’t we dedicated.”
Emily approached the table next to the window, her pad in hand. Her breath caught when she recognized her next customer as the man who had walked her home three nights ago. Mr. Henderson. The man with the smile that did funny things to her stomach, and hazel eyes that seemed to see more than she would like to reveal.
“Hello, Mr. Henderson. What can I get for you tonight?” She used her much practiced Harvey Girl smile. If she acted like he was just another customer perhaps her heartbeat would return to normal.
There it was. That lazy smile. “You know I realized after you left me the other night that you never even told me your name.”
She shifted from one foot to the other. “Um, Emily.” She could have bitten her tongue. The fewer people who knew her, the better her chances of Louis not popping up. She jolted at the thought that perhaps Mr. Henderson could be someone hired to track her down. She broke into a cold sweat and had to tamp down the desire to flee the dining room. Nausea rose in the back of her throat and for a moment she thought she would disgrace herself once more in front of this man.
“Emily.” He nodded. “I like that name. It suits you.” His warm smile was either genuine or a way to disarm her into thinking he was just a nice man.
Be careful. You know men can’t be trusted.
“Thank you. I guess.”
She fumbled with her pencil and pad. The man made her very nervous. Not the kind of abject fear Louis caused her. But, nevertheless, something about him left her edgy, flushed, and hot. “Have you decided what you want?”
“Yes. Do you recommend the fried chicken?”
She took a deep breath to calm herself. One of the other waitresses had told her she knew Mr. Henderson’s family, and was friends with his sister-in-law. The entire family was upstanding citizens. She was letting her imagination run away with her. Surely he would not be hired by Louis to find her.
Feeling more in control of herself, she said, “Actually I do. I’ve had it for dinner myself.”
“Then fried chicken it is.” He handed the menu back to her, brushing her fingers with his own as he did. Shivers covered her arm, all the way to her neck. She looked at him and he seemed as disconcerted as she did.
“I’ll get that right away for you, Mr. Henderson.”
Her hands trembled as she took the plate of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans from the cook and set it on her tray. She closed her eyes and attempted to quell her heartbeat. There was absolutely no reason for her to be so rattled by the man. He was only another customer. That was all.
Galveston, Texas
“I don’t care what you have to do, where you have to go, or who you have to step on. Find that bitch!” Louis Smith pounded his fist on the desk hard enough to knock a cup of pencils to the floor.
“Yes, sir.” The giant lug of a man scurried out as if his coat were on fire. Louis shook his head in disgust at the excuses the man had given him. The nitwit, whatever his name was, represented the third man he’d hired to find Emily.
Louis collapsed into his seat and ground his teeth together until his jaw ached. Almost four months since his slut of a wife had disappeared. Up and vanished like she’d been planning it for weeks. Oh, he would find her, all right. Someone had to know something. She was too weak and too stupid to pull this off on her own. By God, if he found her with another man, he would cut the bastard’s balls off and stuff them down his throat. And then beat Emily so she never tried anything like this again.
His friends at the club had been watching him under lowered eyelids despite the rumor he’d put out about her visiting a sick relative. He’d seen the smirks on their faces. She would pay for that, too. No one laughed at Louis Smith. No one made a fool of him. Especially a woman. And definitely not one who belonged to him.
“What?” he growled at Miss Blake, his secretary, as she entered his office.
“Mr. Smith, Mrs. Fenster is here to see you. Again.”
Louis waved his hand at the woman. “Tell her I’m not in.”
“But, sir, this is the fourth time she’s come to see you.”
“Have my partner deal with her.”
“Mr. Sanders is out for the afternoon.”
God damn. What was the point of having a partner if he couldn’t take on this annoying client? Another reason to punish Emily once he dragged her back. She was supposed to be getting the juicy gossip from the Fenster bitch so he could hold her off from questioning him about her money.
“I don’t care how many times she’s been here. Tell Mrs. Fenster that I am out for the afternoon and she can make an appointment with Sanders tomorrow.”
When the woman didn’t move fast enough, Louis slammed his hand on the desk. “Get rid of her!”
“Yes sir.” She closed the door, the latch barely making a sound. Louis swiveled in his chair and stared out the window to the grounds below.
Yes, the bitch would pay for all the trouble she’d caused him.
Guthrie, Oklahoma Territory
Emily smiled when she saw Mr. Henderson—or Hunter, as he had asked her to call him—standing on West Oklahoma Avenue, within sight of the train depot. This was the fifth night in a row he’d met her. Although she didn’t completely trust him, he obviously had not been sent to drag her back to Galveston. He would have done so by now.
“Good evening, Emily.” He tugged on the brim of his hat and extended his arm so she could take it. Amazed at how familiar this all seemed, she allowed him to pull her closer as they began their stroll to the boardinghouse.
“Since your curfew is ten o’clock and it’s barely past eight, I thought we might enjoy coffee and a piece of pie at the Café.”
She really should stop this now. After all, she was a married woman, and until she got her life straightened out she had no right to continue this. It wasn’t fair to Hunter, and it simply was not the honorable thing to do. As much as she hated to, she had to do the correct thing and decline his offer.
“Yes, I would love to do that.”
So much for taking the high road.
They chatted as they walked the darkened streets of the town. Shadows cast from the street gaslights gave the usually busy street an eerie feel. Most stores were closed, but the taverns were doing a brisk business. The sound of the tinny piano and raucous laughter followed them down the street.
The Café, at the corner of Harrison and Broad Streets, was winding down for the night. It would feel good to get off her feet and let someone else wait on her for a change. A few tables held late diners, men who had most likely arrived by train after the Harvey House had closed for the evening. Rumor had it that the restaurant would soon extend its hours, which Emily did not appreciate. Her day was long enough.
After giving their orders for apple pie and coffee, Hunter leaned back in his chair and studied her. “In the past few days I’ve told you quite a bit about myself and my family. Actually more than I’ve probably told anyone else in my entire life.” He grinned that little boy smile that always made her smile, too.
“Now, tonight it’s your turn, Miss Cabot.”
She hadn’t realized he remembered her last name from their first disastrous encounter when Mr. Tinsdale had chastised her in front of the entire restaurant. Not that it mattered, since the name she’d chosen to use at the Harvey House—her maiden name—was not well known in Galveston. She regarded him. Open, friendly, curious. And she was about to feed him a pack of lies.
She had no choice. It would be downright stupid to trust anyone at this point. “I’m from Louisiana. Shreveport.”
He tilted his head and frowned. “Strange. I would have pegged your accent for Texas.”
Oh God.
“Actually, I lived in Texas for a while when I was younger, so I guess I never picked up the Louisiana accent.”
“What made your family move to Louisiana?”
How she hated lying, in general, and most of all to this man who seemed so nice. But she had to preserve her safety. Emily was the only one who could take care of Emily. No more relying on other people. Then if she had to lie, so be it.
“Um, my father. He had family in Louisiana and decided he’d rather live there.”
“Are they upset that you moved to Oklahoma to be a Harvey Girl?” His teasing made her feel all the worse for her lies. She had to find a way to cut this conversation short. She’d begun to squirm in her seat and was afraid Hunter would notice her discomfort.
“They did, at first. But they’re happy for me.” She took a deep breath and wished away the flush that had spread to her face. “How is your job at the pharmacy coming along?”
If she’d surprised him with her switch in conversation, he didn’t show it. Instead he entertained her with stories of how inept he felt working indoors, dealing with customers when his heart was still focused on the outdoors.
“Maybe one day you will find something that makes you happy.”
He gave her a pointed look and said, “I hope very much to one day find something, or someone, who makes me happy.”
Oh God.
Hunter tossed his Stetson on the dresser in his small bedroom and toed off his boots. Stretching out on his bed, he clasped his hands under his head and thought about Miss Emily Cabot.
A pretty young woman with eyes of an angel. She was smart, funny and wore a scent that had tantalized him all evening. He could still smell the flowery cologne.
It confused him how quickly he’d become interested in the girl. Thinking of her and how he would meet her, then walk her home after she finished her day, helped get him through the long hours at the pharmacy.
He’d like more than anything to formally court her, speak with her supervisor, and ask permission to do so. Since she lived away from her family, under the care and protection of the Harvey House, it seemed the right way to do things. Then he could walk up to the front door of her boardinghouse on her days off and escort her to the theater, the museum, and even the library where interesting meetings were often held.
As much as he wanted to do that, one thing held him back. For as sweet and tempting as she was, Miss Emily Cabot was a liar. Everything that had come out of her mouth tonight had been a falsehood. He would bet a month’s salary she’d never stepped a toe in Louisiana. Ten years of working with the Texas Rangers had honed his skills in listening when people talked. He’d also learned to watch what they didn’t say. The truth was there in how they moved their bodies.
She had a Texas accent strong and true, and squirmed so much in her chair he feared she would knock herself to the floor. He would also bet whatever she was hiding had nothing to do with her committing any type of crime. That he would have sensed immediately. There wasn’t a coy or unlawful bone in her body. Which left him wondering the answer to one very important question.
What kind of trouble is Emily in, and who or what is she hiding from?
Chapter 4
“All right, Uncle Jesse, what do you want me to do?”
Hunter and Michael had shaken hands and parted ways yesterday after two torturous weeks of pretending Hunter was happy working as a store clerk. He doubted this stint in Uncle Jesse’s office would be any better. But if this didn’t work out, he could always bug his brother-in-law, Rusty, for a job on his and Rachel’s ranch. Hunter’s leg would be a problem, but maybe he could do something—anything—outside, instead of being cooped up all day.
“What I have in mind is for you to do some investigative type work for me.”
That perked him up. Investigative work would be much more interesting, and at least would get him outside once in a while.
“But before we start, I think while you’re a member of my staff, you should just call me Jesse.”
Hunter shrugged. “That might feel strange at the
beginning, but I’ll try to remember.”
Jesse gestured in the direction of his inner office, and then led Hunter there. He apparently wanted to say something his office staff wouldn’t hear. Hunter took the leather chair in front of Jesse’s desk, while his uncle faced him, resting his hip against the desk. “I have a close friend, also a client, who believes someone’s trying to smear him.”
Hunter frowned and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. “Tell me some more.”
“Four times now in the past few weeks, little tidbits of false information have been printed in the gossip column of The Guthrie Sentinel.”
Hunter waited patiently as his uncle seemed to gather his thoughts.
“Each time, no one is named but by the description of the individual they’re hinting at, there is no doubt in my mind—or I’m sure in most readers’—that this client is the target of the blurb.”
“Can you think of any reason why someone is interested in smearing him?”
“Yes. A very good one. Let me give you a bit of a history lesson. Some time back, a delegation of representatives of both the Indian and Oklahoma Territories met in Oklahoma City for a joint statehood convention. After days of talking and negotiating, a petition was drafted, and presented to the United States Congress on March seventh of last year.
“We anticipate a vote sometime in September to settle the matter of whether the citizens of Oklahoma Territory want to be admitted to the United States of America. I am confident the vote will be positive. It is this client’s intention to run for State Governor when the next election comes up. And, I might add, he has the backing of the Party.”
Anyplace But Here (Oklahoma Lovers Series Book 5) Page 3