A Changed Agent

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A Changed Agent Page 13

by Tracey J. Lyons


  “Are you preaching to me, Elsie?”

  She straightened her shoulders, staring him down. “I’m not! I’m just trying to point out that your time could be better spent.”

  Will left the chair. Striding across the room, he stopped in front of the window. He yanked back the curtains. She watched him flex his shoulders. The growing tension between them sliced through the air like the cold blade of a knife.

  “Why do you go there?”

  “It’s not for the reason you’re fearing.”

  She couldn’t voice the worst of her fears. Memories of her encounter with the redheaded saloon girl gave way to goose bumps rising. Elsie rubbed her arms. She should be praying for that young woman’s salvation, and instead she harbored feelings of anger and frustration at Will.

  “Elsie, you need to trust me when I tell you I have my reasons for going there.”

  She joined him by the window. “What reason could be more important than being with Harry and Minnie?” she asked, pushing him to give her answers.

  She saw him closing his feelings away. Shutting her eyes, she said a short prayer, asking the Lord for strength. Opening them again, she found Will still staring off, but this time there was an anguish she’d never seen before in him.

  Softly, she continued, “Will. Please. Talk to me.”

  Knowing he couldn’t open himself to Elsie’s questions, and yet realizing he had to give her something, frustrated Will. How had his life come to this? Could he tell her some of what she wanted to hear and not risk revealing who and what he really was?

  Will didn’t know, but he owed it to Elsie to at least try.

  Keeping in mind that his first loyalty was to the Pinkertons, he avoided meeting her gaze, staring out into the inky night.

  This wasn’t at all how Will had planned for his life to be turning out. He knew full well the children were beginning to see him as their father figure. And what of Elsie? She cared for them like a mother. Heaven above, he needed to close this case. He needed to decide what would be best for the children. And while he’d been busy tracking the bond thief, the children and the schoolteacher had been busy building a home—his home.

  “Harry and Minnie love living here, Will. And I know one day soon Minnie will speak to us. But we both need to be here; we both need to be in their lives.”

  He spun around. “This is all temporary! One day you’ll have saved the money you need for your big trip and then you’ll be gone. You’re no different than I am. Why can’t you see that, Elsie?”

  She brushed her hand across her eyes, and he realized she was trying to keep tears from spilling down her cheeks. Feeling like the worst sort of cad, he took her trembling hands in his.

  “I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I never meant to say those words. Oh, Elsie . . .”

  She squared her shoulders and said, “You may see me in the same light as yourself, Will, but I give my all to caring for your charges. When you are out at night doing whatever it is that you do, I am the one here seeing to their well-being.”

  “I know you are. And I am grateful you can be here for them when I’m not able.”

  “You’d have more time with them if you avoided the saloon.”

  He blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m there on business. All right. That’s all you need to know.”

  Bowing his head, he did something he hadn’t done in a long, long time. He prayed. He prayed for forgiveness and for strength. Elsie brushed her hand lightly over the top of his head. Her hand stilled. Lifting his head, he looked into her tear-stained face expecting to find anger, but instead he saw compassion and patience, neither of which he deserved.

  Reaching out, he cradled her face in his hands. Her skin felt so silky smooth to his touch, reminding him of that day long ago in Albany when he’d first met her. Her skin felt as soft and inviting as those silk stockings had as they slipped through his fingertips. Except . . . he didn’t want whatever was happening between them to slip away from him.

  Letting out a groan of frustration, he released her, and slowly rising said, “I need to go out for some air.”

  “Will, please—” She followed him to the door.

  “I’ll be back later.”

  Later turned out to be hours into the night. When he finally returned to the house, he found Elsie had left a lamp burning for him on the kitchen window sill. He carried it with him to light the way up the stairs, where he looked in on the children. Then he sat wearily on the edge of his bed.

  Pulling off first his coat and then his boots, he lay back against the pillows and fell into a fitful sleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  Elsie came out into the kitchen on Monday morning to find a low fire burning in the firebox underneath the stove, but no sign of Will. Once again she’d lain awake for hours last night until she finally heard him return. During that time her thoughts had tumbled around in her mind. The weekend had been tumultuous. There had been the frightening incident with Minnie and the runaway horse, and then coming home after the committee meeting to find the garden planted and a meal on the table.

  Will and the children had been making great headway. Elsie saw how tender he’d been with them. Her thoughts swirled back to what Elaine Moore told her about Will and how he reacted when she confronted him. What sort of business could he be conducting in the saloon of all places? Why did he always seem so reluctant to be honest with her? She felt like even though he’d been trying to open up with her, he was holding something back. Elsie vowed she would get to the bottom of this, one way or the other.

  Putting the kettle on for tea, she left the kitchen and made her way upstairs to roust the children.

  The door to Will’s room stood partway open. She gingerly stepped into his room. The scent of him lingered along with something else—the distinct odor of cigar smoke. Yesterday’s shirt lay haphazardly over the foot of the bed. Picking it up, she brought the chambray fabric to her nose.

  They say that certain scents hold memories, and for her this meant only one thing: Will had gone to the saloon last night.

  “Oh, Will, what have you done?” she whispered.

  “Miss Mitchell!”

  Harry called out to her from across the hall. Replacing the shirt where she’d found it, Elsie went to say good morning to the twins. “Good morning, Harry. Good morning, Minnie. I hope you slept well.”

  Stretching his arms high above his head, Harry answered for both of them. “We did. Can we have maple syrup on our porridge?”

  Mustering up a smile, she replied, “Only if you get dressed and are downstairs in the next ten minutes.”

  She’d been teaching them how to tell time and found giving them little games helped them understand.

  “Go!” She called out the time and watched them scurrying about. Minnie came over with her pinafore undone. Elsie spun her around and buttoned up the back. Harry pulled on his socks, then raced past her to the stairs.

  “Don’t run, and hold on to the railing!” She called out.

  Taking hold of Minnie’s hand, she followed Harry into the kitchen. Checking the time, she said, “You’ve got a minute to spare.”

  Getting breakfast on the table and everyone fed and ready for school kept Elsie’s mind preoccupied. But once they were walking into town, her feelings of dismay and frustration crept back in. How had the weekend started off on such good footing only to end with hurt feelings?

  Virgil made his way into Heartston on foot in the afternoon. The hour-long walk gave him plenty of time to think. The day after that man had been snooping around his property, Virgil had fallen ill with a fever. He’d lost track of how many days went by before he felt well enough to get out of the house. He’d washed out his clothes, drying them in the sun, and then shaved off his two-month-old beard. After dressing and combing his hair, he set off.

  He knew Elsie could be trusted to keep the bonds safe. Today he’d get them back and then sell them off. Maybe he’d pay his debtors and find another game to get in on. Ei
ther way, today he’d be moving on.

  Since school would still be in session, he made his way to the schoolhouse first. Elsie would be surprised to see him, but he’d told her when he’d given her the package to expect him later.

  Up ahead he saw the school yard, the same one he’d gone to as a young boy. Except his teacher had been old Mrs. Krumpkill. She was strict and as mean as a riled-up rattlesnake. He’d be willing to bet every last stolen bond that Elsie never, ever disciplined with the hard end of a long switch.

  Pausing to stand among a grove of birch trees, he watched Elsie come outside. She rang the bell, and the children rushed out of the schoolhouse and down the steps. He heard her tell them to be careful and to walk, not run. When all but two of the children had gone, she went back inside. Virgil wondered who the youngsters were and why they remained. They went over to play on the swing.

  He stepped out of the shadows, walking quickly across the school yard. He took the steps two at a time. When he entered the schoolhouse, he found Elsie with her back to the door. He watched as she cleaned off the chalkboard.

  “Elsie.”

  She spun around, dropping the eraser on the floor. “Virgil! What on earth are you doing here?”

  “Elsie, I’m sorry if I frightened you.” He came toward her with his hat in hand.

  She smiled at him, though he could see the wariness in her eyes. “You didn’t frighten me. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  She was lying. She was nervous. He could tell by the way she kept looking out the window to see the children. And then her gaze would dart back to him, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to meet his gaze.

  “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “Do you remember that package I gave to you back in Albany?”

  “Yes. I still have the envelope.”

  “Do you think you could get it for me?”

  “Right now?”

  “As soon as possible. Please, Elsie, I need to get it back.”

  “I left it at my parents’ house when I moved into town.”

  “You moved into town? Where are you living?”

  “I’m over at John Oliver’s grandmother’s place. It’s complicated. I’m helping out a friend.”

  Again she didn’t look at him fully. She knotted her hands together. Versed in people’s tells, he wondered why she was lying to him.

  “I’m not going back to my parents’ house until next week. Can you wait until then?”

  Tiny beads of sweat broke out along his brow. He needed those bonds straightaway.

  “Do you suppose I could go out there myself and ask them to get my things?”

  “Virgil, my parents don’t know where I put the envelope.”

  When he didn’t move, she added, “I promise I’ll get it for you as soon as possible.”

  He didn’t want to pressure her. She might begin to suspect his true motives. “I guess I can wait till then.”

  “You should come to church. I’m sure there are plenty of your old neighbors who would like to see you again.”

  “I doubt that, Elsie. I imagine there are a lot of them who still want a piece of my hide over what I did to you.”

  A flicker of pain crossed her face.

  “Time has a way of allowing forgiveness,” she spoke softly.

  “I understand and appreciate your forgiveness, Elsie.”

  “It hasn’t come easily for me. But I’ve moved on.”

  “I know you have.”

  From outside, there came a shout.

  “I’m afraid I have to go check on the children.”

  In a rustle of skirts, she rushed by him and out the door. Going to the window, he saw her kneeling next to a young boy. She was rolling up his pant leg, then checking his knee. Even from this distance he could tell she was being gentle with her touch. Then she kissed what had to be a sore spot from a spill the boy had taken off the swing.

  Turning away from the window, Virgil left the schoolhouse, trusting Elsie would get him what was rightfully his.

  By the time Elsie had made sure Harry’s injury wasn’t serious and gone back inside to gather her things, Virgil had left. What a strange visit. He looked a mite better than the last time she’d seen him back in Albany, but something still appeared to be amiss with the man.

  She’d been so busy this past month that she’d completely forgotten about the envelope he’d given her to bring back here. She wondered what was so important that he had to have it back—he’d seemed upset that she couldn’t lay her hands on it right away. Locking the door behind her, she joined Harry and Minnie at the bottom of the steps.

  “Harry, I’ll get you a cold compress for your knee once we’re home.”

  “It’s feeling better. Just a scrape is all.”

  On their walk home, Minnie picked some wildflowers to add to the bouquet they kept in the middle of the kitchen table. The new ritual had begun the day Will had set the violets there. Elsie thought it a lovely gesture, one which brought Minnie great pleasure.

  “Miss Mitchell!” Harry called out. “Look what’s on the porch!”

  Elsie looked up to see two white slat-board rocking chairs sitting in the middle of the porch, aligned so whoever sat there could have a full view of the front yard.

  “Oh my. Aren’t they lovely?”

  “They sure are.”

  Will had made the comment about wanting some rockers, and lo and behold, here they were. She followed the children up the steps. Walking over to the first rocker, she couldn’t resist the temptation to sit down, testing it out. She pushed her toes lightly against the porch floorboards, setting the chair in a gentle rocking motion.

  Will had been correct, sitting here sure beat sitting on the porch step at the end of a long day. Relaxing into the chair, she took a moment to give thanks for the day. Minnie climbed up onto the other rocker and leaned her body forward and back, matching her rocker’s beat to Elsie’s.

  “This is nice, isn’t it?”

  Minnie nodded.

  “We’ll have to be sure to thank your uncle Will.” Noticing the flowers Minnie had picked lying by the front door, Elsie reluctantly rose and picked them up. “It’s time to get these in some water.”

  Minnie stayed on the porch. Harry quickly occupied the spot Elsie so recently vacated. Seeing them so happy in the chairs made her think perhaps Will could hang two swings in the yard for them to play on. Once in the kitchen, she set the flowers down beside the sink. Going to the table, she took the canning jar from the center and picked out the wilted flowers, changed the water, and put the new ones in.

  She put the freshened arrangement back in the center of the table. Then she pulled the curtain on the window aside and peered out to check on the children. They were still sitting contentedly in those chairs. Harry was chatting away to Minnie, who occasionally leaned toward him. With every new dawn, Elsie hoped it would bring them closer to Minnie’s healing. She longed to hear the sound of the child’s voice.

  As soon as she had dinner cooking on the stove, she called the children in to wash up and help get the table set.

  “I’ve been thinking perhaps your uncle could hang up some swings for you children to play on. What do you think of that idea?”

  “I like it a lot, Miss Mitchell,” Harry said from where he stood at the sink washing his hands.

  “Harry, I’ve been thinking. What if I let you call me Miss Elsie while we’re here at home. Would you like that?”

  “I would, Miss Elsie!” He beamed at her.

  “And when you’re ready, Minnie, you may address me in the same manner.”

  Minnie wrapped her arms around Elsie, hugging her middle. Reaching down, Elsie stroked the top of Minnie’s head. Every day, more and more, the girl was opening up.

  “Oh dear, Harry. I almost forgot about the cold compress for your knee.” Releasing Minnie, she took a cloth from the sideboard. But Harry stopped her.

  “Don’t worry, Miss Elsie. I’m feeling a lot better now.”<
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  “I’m glad to hear that. Dinner will be on the table shortly.”

  While they sat down, Elsie puttered about putting the finishing touches on the meal. As the day drew to a close and the dinner hour was upon them, she wondered if Will might be joining them. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the man since their conversation the other night. Elsie knew the cooling-off period would do them both some good. Still, she found she missed him.

  She’d just filled their three plates with slices of venison, boiled potatoes, and some pickled beans when she heard the front door open and close. Will’s place was set, ready for him when he came home.

  Harry’s eyes lit up. “Uncle Will’s home!”

  “I am.” He entered the room, heading straight to the sink to wash up.

  When he was seated, Will helped himself to the meat and vegetables, saying, “I trust everyone had a good day.”

  Harry said, “Miss Mitchell had a man come to visit her, and I fell off the swing in the school yard. But I’m all right, just a little scrape on my knee. I can show you.” Harry started to lift his pant leg.

  Elsie stopped him by saying, “Harry, it isn’t polite to show our wounds at the dinner table.”

  “Sorry.” Putting his pant leg down, he returned to finishing his meal.

  Elsie felt Will’s gaze upon her. No doubt he was wondering who her visitor had been. She’d never spoken of her relationship with Virgil. Frankly, she didn’t think it any of his business. She’d put Virgil out of her life a long time ago.

  When the rest of the meal was finished up, she saw to the cleaning of the kitchen. Will had gone upstairs. She turned her attention to homework and getting the twins into bed.

  When she finally had time to return to her remaining tasks, the sun was hanging low on the horizon. She heard the creak of the rocking chair. She looked out to find Will sitting on the porch.

  “Come join me.”

  Since she’d been tiptoeing around the creaking floorboards in an effort to not disturb the sleeping children, Elsie was amazed he’d heard her. She swore the man had the hearing of an owl. Opening the front door, she stepped out into the sweet night air. She took a moment to savor the peaceful moment, then moved past Will to take the remaining seat. The night peepers began their chirping. Off in the distance a wagon rattled along the roadway toward town. A soft breeze caught in a wisp of her hair. She pushed the strand off her forehead.

 

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