Calico Spy

by Margaret Brownley

  She smiled. “Old dog?” Hardly.

  He rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking.” He hesitated. “How do you feel about making the partnership permanent?”

  Catching her breath, she gaped at him. Something stirred inside—an opening of a door. Warmth flowed through her like a summer breeze, sweeping away any lingering doubts. She had been afraid to admit to her feelings. Afraid to think that true love really existed. But looking into his open, honest face it suddenly seemed that loving him—trusting him—was the right thing to do.

  Shaking with emotion, she could hardly get the words out. “Are… are you saying—”

  He nodded, his eyes filled with warm lights. “Say yes, Katie. And you’ll make me the happiest man alive.”

  Her mind scrambled. She felt all at once weak and strong. Dazed and alert. One moment they were talking about criminals and the next making a future together.

  “So what do you say?” he prodded.

  She struggled to find her voice. “Th–this is all happening so fast.”

  “Maybe this will help.” He pulled something out of his pocket, and her mouth went dry. A ring? Her eyes stung, and she blinked. This wasn’t just a dream. He was actually serious about marrying her. Joy bubbled up inside. Had this been God’s plan all along? She certainly felt hopeful and happy and…

  He held out his hand, and the sun glinted against the object in his open palm. Her jaw dropped, and her heart sank to her knees.

  It wasn’t a ring. It was…

  “A badge?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The shiny object winked in the sunlight as if enjoying a joke at her expense.

  He nodded. “An undersheriff’s badge. The town’s growing in leaps and bounds, and I’ll need a lot of help. You know how lousy I am at paperwork. I talked to the mayor, and he approves.”

  He paused, and when she said nothing, a shadow of uncertainty crossed his face. “It’s not as exciting as your current job. The pay’s lousy. So are the hours, but you and I would make a great team. We’ve already proven that.”

  Pulling her gaze away from the badge, she looked at him with burning eyes. “You’re offering me a j–job?” she stammered, feeling like the world’s biggest fool.

  His eyebrows rose. “So what do you say?”

  “A job doing paperwork?”

  He frowned. “I’m not doing a very good job of explaining myself, am I?”

  “Oh, but you are.” She shook her head. “You’re doing an excellent job.” Whirling about, she yanked open the restaurant door and dashed inside.

  Chapter 52

  Branch tossed the badge on his desk and kicked his chair.

  “Temper, temper,” Woody called from his cell. He and Scarface sat facing each other through the bars of their cells playing cards. “What’s got you so riled up?”

  “Women!”

  “Would that be women in general?” Woody asked, reaching into Scarface’s cell to play a card. “Or one in particular?”

  “I offered Katie a job, and she didn’t even give me an answer. Instead she shot off like a cannonball.”

  “Katie?” Woody drew a card and arranged it in his hand. “Is that the pie-in-the-face gal you were hankering to kiss?”

  Scarface grimaced. “Better watch it with that one. I wouldn’t put it past her to charge the gates of hell with a bucket of ice water.”

  Branch gripped the back of his chair. “That’s the one, all right.”

  “Your turn,” Woody said to his cellmate. In a louder voice he said, “Guess you don’t know.”

  “Know what?” Branch asked.

  “She’s actually a Pinkerton operative sent here to help solve the Harvey case. That’s what that Culpepper fella told us.”

  Scarface made a rude sound with his mouth. “I shoulda known from the git-go that the lady was a Pink.”

  “Yeah, and a good one at that,” Branch muttered.

  Scarface shook his head. “It’s getting so you can’t trust anyone, anymore. Females included.”

  Woody set his cards on his cot. “Let me get this straight.” He rose, straightened out his wooden leg, and hobbled to the front of his cell. “You offered her a job?”

  “Yeah.” He couldn’t think of any other way to keep her in town without getting hurt in the process. He wanted to keep her close but not too close. Keep her safe while protecting his heart.

  Not that he blamed her for turning him down. Compared to her Pinkerton job, his offer was almost laughable. If only…

  He clenched his teeth. No sense going down that road. She would never give up her job. She was like Hannah in that regard. Why couldn’t he fall in love with a more traditional woman? One who would be content just to be his wife?

  “I offered her a job as undersheriff.”

  Woody rolled his eyes. “Congratulations. You just proved that it takes no brains to be a lawman.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you’re dumb as a lamppost,” Scarface said, throwing down his cards.

  “I made a good offer,” Branch said in his own defense. “Do you know how many men would jump at an offer like that? Even you.”

  “Not me,” Woody said. “Not on your tintype. It’s safer on this side of the bars than out there.”

  Scarface nodded. “Yeah, and room and board is free.”

  Branch pushed his chair against the desk with a bang. “She acted like I’d told her to jump in front of a train or something.”

  “I’m surprised she didn’t tell you to jump,” Woody said.

  Branch frowned. “You sure do know how to make a fella feel like a heel.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s no less than you deserve.” Woody gripped the bars tight. “Listen to me and listen good. I’m a busy man, so I’m only gonna say this once. She has a job, and it probably pays a whole lot more than what this here town can afford to pay. If you want her to stay, then you better figure out something she don’t already have.”

  “Like what?”

  Woody rolled his eyes. “Now I gotta think for you, too?” He lumbered back to his cot. “Like I said, I’m a busy man. It’s time to get me some shut-eye. Wake me when that fool head of yours figures out what to do with its brains.”

  “A job! He offered me a job?” Katie tossed a pair of bloomers into her carpetbag and bit down on her lip. “He wants me to do paperwork?” She groaned. Now she was talking to herself.

  “What this town needs is a good undersheriff, and I think you’re the right person for the job.”

  The memory shot through her like a bullet, tearing her apart. She imagined hearing a ripping sound from within—some vital organ pulling away from its moorings.

  She closed her eyes. Oh, God. Why do I always fall for the wrong man? I’m trying to accept Your will, but it’s hard. It was in fact the hardest thing she ever had to do.

  The door flew open, and Tully rushed into the room, scattering Katie’s thoughts. “Abigail’s husband is here. You better come quick!”

  Springing into action, Katie raced from the room, reaching the dining area behind Tully. Abigail was nowhere in sight.

  Sam Fletcher stood at a table showing a photograph to one of the train passengers. Katie recognized the passenger as Mr. Thumper, a Bible salesman who traveled through Calico regularly and knew all the girls by name.

  Nodding, Mr. Thumper handed the photograph back and said something.

  Abigail’s husband straightened and slipped the picture into his shirt pocket. He glanced around before taking his place at the counter. His slow, methodical movements indicated he was in no particular hurry. He would wait till after the midday crowd left.

  Mary-Lou cast an anxious glance at Katie before handing him a bill of fare. Katie lifted her gaze to the clock. The clock indicated it was almost time for the train to leave. The train she was scheduled to leave town on…

  Outside, Buzz stood ready to strike the gong. Intent on telling Buzz to hold off, K
atie started for the door, but it was too late. The gong sounded and right on cue, the diners rose like a choir ready to burst into song.

  Buzz held the door open with his one good arm and wished the passengers Godspeed as they streamed past him and onto the waiting train. His other arm was wrapped in a bandage and held in a sling.

  The breakfast room was soon empty except for Abigail’s husband and the regular staff. For several moments no one said a word. Buzz, sensing something was wrong, walked over to Tully. Silently she tossed a nod at the man on the stool. Mary-Lou looked close to tears.

  Katie stepped behind the counter. “I’ll have some of that berry pie,” Fletcher said. His face was as white and puffy as unbaked dough, and his skinny mustache teetered up and down like a child’s seesaw.

  Katie sliced a piece and carried the plate over to him. He grabbed her by the wrist, surprising her. His fingers pressed into her flesh like an iron clamp.

  “I know Abby’s here. I’m her husband, and I want to see her now.”

  Katie glared at him. “Take your hands off me.”

  He jerked her arm before releasing it and picked up his fork.

  She rubbed her wrist. “You better leave.”

  He took a bite of pie and chewed before answering. “This a public place. That means I have the same right to be here as anyone else.”

  Katie glared at him. “Buzz, go fetch the sheriff.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” All heads swung to the archway where Abigail stood, looking very much alone and vulnerable.

  Her husband dropped his fork and pushed his bulk off the stool. “That’s more like it. Get your things. We’re going home.”

  Abigail shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere. This is my home now.”

  Katie moved from behind the counter. The Pinkerton agency never worked on cases involving marital problems and for good reason. Most detectives would rather walk into a den of thieves than a domestic dispute.

  Fletcher’s eyes glittered, and the tension in the air was palpable. “You’re my wife, and you belong with me.”

  Abigail lifted her chin. “Not anymore. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer. It’s over, so you better just leave.” Somehow she managed to put on a brave front, and only the most discerning eye would notice the slight tremor of her lips.

  Fletcher took a step forward, his hands knotted into fists by his side. “Who’s gonna make me?”

  “I am,” Katie said, stepping next to Abigail.

  He snickered. “You don’t think I can take on the two of you?”

  “Make that three,” Tully said, surprising Katie. Surprising Buzz, too, who quickly took his place by Tully’s side.

  “Th–that’s f–five of us,” Mary-Lou stammered, hastening across the room to stand next to Buzz.

  Fletcher glowered at the small group. “You better tell your four friends to move before someone gets hurt.”

  Pickens joined them, crowding in next to Mary-Lou. He crossed his arms in front of his ample chest and glared back at Fletcher. “Make that five friends.”

  “Six!” Chef Gassy squeezed between Tully and Buzz. He was followed by Howie Howard and the other kitchen staff, along with Miss Thatcher and even Cissy. What the group lacked in muscle they made up for in numbers.

  Fletcher appeared confused or maybe bewildered. The pupils of his eyes shifted back and forth like little black marbles. “You better make sure this is what you want, Abby. ’Cause when I walk out that door I ain’t never coming back.”

  “Staying here with my friends is what I want,” Abigail said, her voice now strong with conviction.

  Seeming to shrivel in defeat, Fletcher no longer appeared menacing. Instead, he looked about as harmless as an empty potato sack. Without another word, he stalked across the room and paused in front of the door. With one last glance at the group, he left the building.

  No sooner had the door slammed shut behind him than Abigail burst into tears.

  Katie handed her a handkerchief and put an arm around her. “It’s over.”

  Abigail’s body shook beneath her touch, but for the first time since Katie had known her she didn’t look afraid.

  “I can’t believe it.” Abigail blew her nose. “I never thought I’d have the nerve to stand up to him.”

  “But you did,” Mary-Lou said. “We’re so proud of you.”

  Abigail dabbed the tears away from her cheeks. “I saw the way Katie stood up to Okie-Sam. I decided it was time to take a stand of my own. But… I couldn’t have done it without all your help.”

  “You know what they say,” Katie said. “Two are better than one.”

  “And there were twelve of us,” Mary-Lou said.

  Chef Gassy lunged forward, thrusting a wooden spoon as if battling a dragon. “He come back, he answer to great chef.”

  “I’m trembling in my shoes,” Tully whispered.

  Abigail smiled through her tears.

  Pickens clapped his hands. “All right, men. Ladies. Back to work.” He pointed his finger at Katie. “You, too.”

  Katie sighed. She’d missed her train. If she didn’t know better, she’d think God didn’t want her to leave. But what possible reason could He have for wanting her to stay?

  Chapter 53

  The dining room was packed that night, and everyone was in good spirits.

  Everyone except Katie. She played her role as a Harvey girl to the hilt, right down to a sparkling smile, but that didn’t prevent her heart from aching.

  Abigail couldn’t stop smiling, even when she was in the kitchen. “Come here, I want to show you something,” she whispered and led Katie to the dining room door. “Look over there.”

  Katie followed her finger to the coatrack where Mary-Lou was helping Charley Reynolds pick out a coat. The two of them were deep in conversation.

  Abigail sighed. “I know it’s too soon. Charley is still grieving the loss of Ginger. But Mary-Lou is the only one who can make him smile. Do you suppose…?”

  Katie nodded. “Oh, I do hope so. You must write and let me know how it all works out.”

  Pickens came up behind them and addressed Abigail. “It’s time for dessert.”

  Promising to write, Abigail turned and hurried to the kitchen.

  Pickens cleared his voice and ran a hand down his ample chest. “Sure I can’t talk you into staying?” He looked as awkward as a young man asking a girl out to a dance. “Thought maybe you might consider trading in your gun for a tray.”

  Katie laughed. Only Pickens would think such a trade-off comparable. “You’ve got three new girls. You don’t need me.”

  The new Harvey girls had arrived on the morning train.

  Pickens lifted his shoulders and splayed his hands. “If you ever change your mind, you know where to find us.”

  His offer touched her deeply. “Thank you.”

  She picked up her carpetbag. She wanted to board the train before the crowd. Earlier she had said her good-byes, and there was nothing left to do.

  She turned, and one of the new girls bumped into her, tray first. The Rhode Island chicken took off in one direction and the Long Island oysters in another. A look of horror crossed the poor girl’s face, and she looked as frantic as a mouse in a trap.

  “It’s okay.” Katie set her carpetbag down and helped the girl scoop up the food. Her name was Suzanne, and she was a pretty blond with a Southern drawl. “At least you didn’t set the kitchen on fire like I did.”

  The girl looked up. She couldn’t be more than eighteen or nineteen. “You did that?”

  “Sure did.”

  “And you weren’t fired?”

  “Nope.”

  “But Mr. Pickens looks so mean. And so does Miss Thatcher. And the chef…”

  “You can’t always tell what people are like until you see into their hearts. Just wait. You’ll be amazed. Meanwhile, just remember to keep smiling, no matter what.” She spread her lips to demonstrate, and Suzanne smiled back. “That’s it. The right smile c
an hide anything.”

  Even a broken heart.

  The sun had dipped low in the afternoon sky by the time Branch raced back to town. He would have made it back a whole lot earlier had his horse not thrown a shoe.

  Shadows stretched and yawned across his path as he galloped down Main. Midnight’s flying hooves hammered the road, stirring up dust and curiosity.

  Pedestrians turned to stare before dashing out of his way. Horses neighed and pawed the ground. Dogs barked.

  The train was still in the station when he reached the Harvey House, and that was a relief. He quickly dismounted, tied his horse, and ran. God, don’t let that be the whistle. But it was; he knew it was. Racing along the alleyway, his feet barely touched the ground. He took a flying leap onto the platform, but the train had already pulled away.

  “Stop, stop!” he yelled, waving his arms over his head, but it was no use.

  The train quickly picked up speed as it rushed away from the setting sun. Soon only a speck remained, no bigger than a period at the end of a sentence.

  Turning, Branch surveyed the deserted platform, and his heart sank. Despair washed over him in angry waves. The train had taken his whole world with it, and he had no one to blame but himself.

  He should have told Katie how he felt when he had the chance. Should have told her how much he loved her. Instead, like a coward, he’d held back out of fear of losing her like he’d lost Hannah. Like he’d lost almost everyone he’d ever loved. Had almost lost Andy.

  Too late he realized his heart was beyond protecting. He was already hooked. Already head over heels. Already past the point of no return.

  He debated what to do. He couldn’t go to the office. The last thing he needed was his know-it-all jail occupants telling him what he already knew. He was a dang fool. Nor was he in any condition to face Andy or Miss Chloe.

  He stalked into the restaurant. Big mistake.

  Everything inside reminded him of Katie. The coatrack where first they’d met. “If you’ll step over to that rack, I’ll help you pick out a dinner coat.”

  The table where he celebrated Andy’s birthday. “Would you rather another waitress serve you?”