The Escort

by Gina Robinson

  "I hope not." He took her by the arm. "I'll give you a ride to Burke."

  "This is your stiletto, Tonio. What will you do without it?"

  "Fortunately, I know how to use a gun."

  She stopped him. "You still have my necklace?"

  Tonio paused. "Yes. How thoughtless of me—you probably want it back."

  She shook her head. "No. I want you to keep it for me. Keep it somewhere safe. For now, I will safeguard your stiletto and you will protect my necklace."

  "Deal," he said. "You know that you could sell that necklace and have your passage home? It's your ticket out of here and back into the bosom of your family."

  "I know, but I would never sell my grandma's treasure. That is not what she intended."

  He didn't argue. "It's your decision. If you ever change your mind and want it back, all you have to do is ask."

  She lifted her chin, trying to look braver than she felt. "If I ever go back to Italy, be assured that I will."

  As he caught her elbow to lead her toward town, she said. "I have not given up on you yet." And she meant it. She didn't mean to give up—ever.

  John Lawlor jumped to his feet and rounded his desk to meet Tonio at the doorway, slapping him heartily on the back. "If it isn't my friend the Italian. Come in, Tonio. What a surprise. I didn't think you had business in Harrison. What's so important that it's gotten you out of the Hole and brought you to our little town?"

  Tonio surveyed the office. "Don't you do any work around here? Where are all of your clients?"

  He pointed to a chair. "I don't entertain many here at my Harrison office. Most of my work is in Spokane. I come here for peace and quiet so I can get my thinking and paperwork done. Are you going to answer my question? What brings you here?"

  "A lady."

  John winked. "I should have guessed."

  "It's not what you think. She's a married lady or widowed or some damn thing. I was charged in New York with bringing her out here to meet her husband and look out for her well-being."

  "Oh?"

  Tonio explained the situation.

  John rubbed his chin. "Finding out about the property should be easy enough—a talk with the clerk at the courthouse. The legality of the marriage…" John stroked his chin. "Never consummated?"

  Tonio nodded. "Like I said, she never met him."

  "I'm sworn to uphold the law, so I shouldn't even be asking this—who knows that she never consummated the marriage?"

  Tonio didn't miss a beat. "The Halls and me."

  Lawlor nodded. "The groom have any next of kin, anyone who could contest?"

  Tonio shook his head. "Don't know. You'd have to ask Angel."

  "I'll do just that. Send her by, Tonio, send her by. It may be that all this is moot. Legally speaking, I wouldn't want to cheat a legitimate heir out of an inheritance. On the other hand, why should the state confiscate what this fellow worked so hard to provide for his bride, mail-order or not. His intention was clearly to provide for her."

  "I'll do just that, John. Thanks." Tonio glanced at the clock. "I have to get going if I'm going to catch the train back to Burke. Keep me posted of any progress and send the bills to me in Burke."

  The town of Harrison sprawled neatly on the shore of Lake Coeur d'Alene. In less than a dozen years it had sprung to life as a thriving lumber town boasting a population near a thousand. As she stood at the rail of the Georgie Oakes, Angelina counted three lumber mills lining the town's lakeside edge. It had been so nice of the Colonel to give her the day off and arrange passage to Harrison with his friend, the captain of the boat.

  The hum and buzz of saws drifted out from shore as the Georgie Oakes negotiated its way cautiously through the log booms that stretched into the lake to the waiting stall at the Harrison ferry dock. A gentle breeze carried the scent of freshly cut pines and firs out over the water and the town. Bright, freshly milled lumber was stacked neatly in lumberyards filled to capacity, making a wholesome picture.

  As the captain helped Angelina down the gangplank, the newness and activity of the town dazzled her. The main street, a wide unpaved dirt road, ran through town, mimicking the shape of the lake. It was not smooth or flat, but hilled and banked, following the natural terrain of the land. Lumber mills and boat docks filled the lake side of the road.

  On the opposite side of the street, the town's main businesses bustled. Plank sidewalks ran the length of the street on either side, as if the town had all the lumber it could ever want. Boards were spread across dirt streets to protect pedestrians from mud and dust. Several streets wound their way off the main street and up the hill into a residential district. Every structure in town was made of carefully milled lumber boards.

  To Angelina, the town could have been made of gold and been no more impressive. Timber was scarce in Italy and as such was prized and used sparingly. Here the abundance of its use seemed almost obscene. The town stood as a proud tribute to its main industry and to the hope that she owned land somewhere up one of the hillsides. With land she would not be poor. She would sell it and buy a house in Wallace. Tonio would not have to worry that he had nothing to offer her. She would have something to offer him.

  She pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and followed the directions to her lawyer's office. Her lawyer—the term both frightened and excited her.

  A sign hanging from a lamppost marked John Lawlor's office, which was as easy to find as Tonio had assured her. His secretary led her into his office, where Angelina took a seat. A few minutes later, John Lawlor entered.

  Angelina liked him on sight. A man in his late forties or early fifties with slightly stooping shoulders and a gray mustache, he reminded her of Papa. He had an infectious smile and a kindly manner of speaking meant to put clients at ease, she supposed. At least, she relaxed.

  "Mr. Lawlor," she said, "your name suits your profession."

  "Yes, with a name like Lawlor, what else could I be except a lawyer?"

  She told him her story as he listened and asked questions, nodding, stroking his chin. Finally he said, "Tonio was in to see me earlier this week and gave me a briefing. I need to ask you a few pertinent questions."

  "Yes, signor."

  "Did Mr. Allessandro have any children?"

  "No."

  "Parents still alive?"

  "No."

  "Brothers or sisters?"

  "He had two brothers. One passed away many years ago. The other," Angelina paused. She did not like to think about Paolo. Although his disappearance had not been her fault, she felt that she had somehow brought tragedy to the Allessandro family.

  "His younger brother Paolo was my escort to the United States. He got an eye disease and was to be deported. They would not let him enter the country. Later I heard that he boasted that he was going to jump overboard and try to swim to shore.

  "It is a dangerous swim, Signor Lawlor. I was in New York for months afterward. If he had jumped and lived, he would have contacted me. Someone would have heard from him."

  "Has he contacted his family or anyone in Italy?"

  "I don't know. I have not heard from them since I left New York."

  John Lawlor patted her hand. "I'm sorry."

  She nodded.

  "You were married in Italy?"

  "Yes, by proxy. It's done all the time in Italy," Angelina said, though she wasn't certain it was legal, even there.

  "And no one besides you, Tonio, and the Halls know that the marriage was never consummated?"

  "And Paolo."

  John Lawlor frowned slightly. "Then unless Paolo turns up to make a claim on the inheritance, I don't foresee any problems. Would you like to see your land?"

  Angelina's pulse raced. "My land? Is it that easy?"

  "I don't see why not." He extended his hand to her. "We'll take my carriage. It's a fine day for a drive."

  "Mr. Lawlor, I must ask one more favor. The man at the mine told me only that my husband was dead, nothing more. I would like, that is, if it
is possible, to know where he is buried. I would like to visit the man who has given me this gift and honor his memory."

  Her lawyer nodded. "I took the liberty of looking into that for you. He's buried in the town cemetery overlooking the lake. It's a nice spot. I think anyone would like it, especially someone who loved this town. When I inquired about Mr. Allessandro, I was told that he was a quiet, hardworking man who kept to himself mostly. He worked in the mine in Kellogg, so he was not around here much. But the few who knew him seemed to like him and were sorry about his passing."

  Angelina squeezed Mr. Lawlor's arm. "Thank you. I will write of that to my father, who was his friend years ago, and to my village for the people there will want to know."

  Angelina's property was outside of town on a hillside overlooking a gentle valley. The trees grew thick and the underbrush lush. John drove her to a tiny cabin. "This would have been your home. Would you like to go in?"

  She didn't want to, but John thought it necessary, that there might be something of value that she should have. It was sparsely furnished. The man had not had much. But it was evident that he had been preparing it for her arrival. He had begun to construct a little pantry and it was evident that he had put new glass in the windows. They found little. Nothing she wanted except for a few dollars that the lawyer insisted she take.

  Then they walked the property. John Lawlor pointed out the property lines and identified trees for her. Most of her land was on a hot hillside, but it was still lovely property. She asked Mr. Lawlor what price it might fetch.

  "Oh, you don't want to sell it. You haven't been paying attention. All those trees—timber will be quite valuable in several years' time. Probably worth more than the land itself. Wait until it's large enough to harvest and bring a good price. Then if you still want to sell the land, do it. Right now you've got a few small stands ready to be cut. Log those off now."

  "I have no idea how to sell timber," she said, thinking of the money she could use to set up a home for Tonio and her and overcome his objections of poverty.

  "Ah, but I do. Give me power of attorney and I will take care of it for you for a very reasonable fee."

  On the way back to his office, they stopped by the cemetery and Angelina placed a spray of wild roses on her husband's grave, feeling like an interloper in his final peace, a bit like she had stolen something from him, knowing that she had never loved him.

  "I'm sorry," she said to the mound of dirt over him, to the clouds that drifted in the deep blue above. "But thank you. Thank you so much for what you've given me." A great burden eased from her.

  Then John Lawlor took her arm and led her to his carriage. He took her to the train depot, for she had to take the train home.

  "Signor Lawlor, one final question of you—could I become an American citizen, do you think?" The idea popped into her head from nowhere. Tonio was a citizen. She wanted to be, too.

  "I think you'd make a fine American woman. America is good place for women and becoming much better. The ladies will have the vote nationwide in not many more years. A bright young woman could do well here. But you'd have to live here for at least five years, the minimum before applying for citizenship. And you'd have to take the naturalization test."

  Five years! Well, she had time to consider that.

  "Thank you, Mr. Lawlor."

  He nodded. "It may take as much as a month or two to arrange the sale of the timber. I'll keep in touch."

  She thanked him again as her train pulled into the station.

  Chapter 12

  Angelina had not been herself since her visit with Tonio up at the Hole. Silent. Trying to put a bright face on things. Working harder than ever. But May sensed that beneath it all lay the treacherous companions of panic, fear, and depression. What had Tonio done and said to make Angelina act so sullen? May meant to straighten that boy out. She could hardly stand seeing Angelina in such a state.

  With the job at the Fuller, trying to get her assets from her late husband, and dealing with the timber mess, all in a foreign tongue in a foreign country, the girl had waded in over her head. May helped as best she could. But better yet, she saw an opportunity to force Tonio into close proximity with the girl, something he seemed hell-bent on avoiding.

  Try and hide, Toni, she thought. You can't outfox me!

  May smiled to herself. She'd never fancied herself a matchmaker. She didn't have many hopes that she'd be much good at it. But in this case, she had to try. While she understood Tonio's motives for keeping his distance, if he didn't keep his hat in the ring, so to speak, he could lose the girl altogether.

  There were too many bachelors in the valley for a girl of Angelina's looks to go unnoticed. No, the men had seen her and sniffing around all too frequently for May's tastes, including that weasel Clell, who seemed more determined than ever to court Angel now that it was common knowledge she was a widow. May could only discourage them so long. She wasn't cut out to be a guardian of chastity and Tonio's interests. Angelina had been turning down all offers so far, but who knew how long she'd keep that up?

  Clell's attentions worried May most of all. He was a dangerous and powerful man. She had half a thought that he was behind the anonymous gifts Angelina had been receiving, though she kept that to herself knowing how Angelina disliked the man. The gifts had been little things so far but always came with a typed note full of innuendo.

  With all that in mind, May headed to Burke to catch up with Tonio. She found him in his camp at the mouth of the Hole.

  "May, what brings you to the wilderness?" He seemed happy to see her.

  "Mail call." She tossed him a letter from Nonna Gia, his friend back in New York. And another from someone in Chicago.

  Then she handed him a box that she'd made up for him. "And something decent to eat. Someone's got to see that you don't starve to death up here."

  Tonio laughed.

  May shook her head. "I bet you gave your mama the dickens of trouble."

  They chatted for a bit while May schemed to bring up the main reason for her visit. She brought up the topic of Angelina at the first opportunity. "Tonio, I don't like the thought of you toying with that little girl."

  "She may be young but she's no girl, May." He stared at the box before him for a moment before lifting the lid.

  "I thought you were supposed to be her chaperone. Seems to me she could use a little help right now, what with all the legal matters of dealing with her husband's death and all."

  Tonio sighed happily as he saw the food she'd packed for him. He seemed too intent on it to care much about her scolding.

  "I sent her to John Lawlor for help, even talked to him myself on her behalf."

  "I call that scant help, Tonio, scant help indeed."

  He shrugged. "She won't go back to Italy. I offered her a way back and she refused. If she wants to stay here, she has to learn to fend for herself.

  "She could be a fine, independent woman if she tried. Problem is she's too young to know it yet. Being raised in that antiquated system in Italy teaches a woman she's of no use except as a man's servant. Training like that practically has to be bred out. There's no way she's going to survive out West unless she develops her own sense of self-worth and independence. I'm only encouraging her. She reminds me a little bit of you."

  May set her hands on her broad hips. She was a sturdy woman. She had never been expected to behave in the silly, giddy way pretty women were supposed to act. Her broad features and heavy chin gave her a serious, almost mannish appearance, causing men to treat her more like one of their own than the hallowed creature, woman.

  "That's fine talk, but you can't impress me any by trying to appeal to my suffragette tendencies." May paused for effect, acting as if she were considering whether or not to speak her mind when she knew perfectly well what to say next.

  "I hesitate to bring this up, but that young woman is causing quite a stir over at the Fuller. Got her share of admirers." She watched Tonio carefully for a reaction and alth
ough he acted nonchalant, she knew him well enough to realize that his stoicism suggested she'd piqued his interest.

  "She's turned down half a dozen proposals of marriage already. Every other single male in town is working up the courage to propose, weighing his own odds of success, I imagine. I've had my hands full shooing them off. Reason I mention it is, well, isn't the shooing supposed to be your job as chaperone?"

  Tonio laughed. "I expect I've left her in your competent hands, May."

  "Yeah, well, some of them aren't shooing as easily as they might." She made another pregnant pause. "Clell's been hanging around, dining at the Fuller every day that Angelina works, waiting for her to get off shift. Pestering her."

  She'd hit her target. A frown passed quickly over Tonio's face and his eyes went steely at the mention of Clell. "I'll ask Nokes to keep an eye on her."

  "Good idea," May said, "but there's one more problem we've got. On top of all the obvious ones, Angelina's got a secret admirer. He's been sending anonymous gifts—candy, flowers, the like. You wait too long, he may turn her head and you'll be left out in the cold. I expect, you being a full blooded male and all, that you aren't immune to her charms."

  It took him a second to answer. May thought, or maybe hoped, he looked jealous for all his pretending not to be.

  "May! What are you saying?" Tonio shook his head from side to side and clucked his tongue in mock chagrin. "Her recently widowed. And me! I was almost a priest!"

  "Almost only counts in horseshoes and dynamiting."

  "There's some that would argue with you about the dynamiting. It's a precise craft."

  "You're acting a little too coy. That girl means something to you, so much so that it scares you."

  Tonio ignored her statement as he pulled a cookie out of the box. He cocked a brow in such a comical fashion that May laughed. "Cookies?"

  "Angelina's."

  "She sent me cookies?"

  "Got your hopes up, didn't I?" May had him. She knew she had him. "I packed those for you."

  He tossed May a biscotti, then took a bite of one himself. "Delicious. The girl can cook."