“Except in my case,” said Trace sarcastically.
“It’s true. The last woman Mr. Stapleton wed was not a suitable match and the union was terminated as soon as they completed their case.”
“The last woman!” Genevieve stared at the man picked to be her husband. “How many women have you married?”
“Just two. The first one died in service.”
“And that is supposed to make me feel safe under your protection?”
“Look lady, do you want the job or not? I promise never to cross the line with you but will always do my utmost to teach and protect you.”
“And am I obligated to protect you, as well?” She watched as a shadow covered his features. Obviously, that hit a touchy spot, but she barreled on. “I am a fair shot so you can feel equally safe in my company – as long as I’m able to carry my pistol.” She braced her white-knuckled hands on the back of the chair next to him. “If I’m to be Mr. Stapleton’s partner, you shall both discover that I’m quite capable of handling myself.” She moved around to the front and plunked down on the seat. Staring at a shocked Archie Gordon, she said, “Shall we continue?”
The man behind the desk laughed. “She’s a spitfire, Trace old-boy.”
“Had one of those.”
“Ah, but I sense this one is different. Doesn’t appear to have a chip on her shoulder the size of the Rocky Mountains.” He opened a drawer and removed a Bible. “Are you both ready to say your vows?”
Genevieve gasped. “So soon? I just applied for the job. Is there no getting-to-know-you time allowed?”
“We have an important commission that needs attention now. A great beginner’s case – nothing too complicated. But our client is impatient and expects results.” He stood and moved to the door calling out to Marianne. “I need a witness, and proper documents written up and registered promptly. These two are anxious to get started.”
Genevieve was speechless. Had she said that she was anxious or was that the nature of the business? She stammered. “My brother is getting married in three days. I can’t possible leave Denver before that.”
“Relax. There’s enough footwork to explore here before the case sends you roaming the countryside. Consider it a time to become better acquainted – as a working team.”
“But I must return to the farm. I have purchased supplies for the house and will need to pack my belongings.”
Trace offered his best smile. “That shall be our very first mission when we leave here. I’d love to meet the family.”
“Are you being sarcastic?” Genevieve asked.
“Not at all. Might help me understand my new partner better. You can let me do the talking and just agree with the occasional new bride blush. I got this part down pat.” He reached for her hand and his penetrating eyes instilled a strange peace and quieted her nerves. “Do you mind if I call you Gen? Far less complicated and it has a sort of intimate appeal to it, don’t you think?”
Trace Stapleton could not have known her secret desire. She hated the formality of her Christian name and had longed for a more casual way to be known.
“Gen is fine. Sounds more like a gunslinging detective, anyway.”
Within three minutes, the ceremony was performed and in one short hour, the paperwork completed. Genevieve was officially a lady detective in training at the Pinkerton Agency and a married woman. Once again, Trace reached for her hand.
“Shall we go to the farm and slay the giants?”
To avoid confusing her mind further by the bizarre marital status she’d entered into, she did not take his hand. Instead she offered a polite smile and reprimand. “Remember your place, Mr. Stapleton.”
“My memory is filled with broken relationships coming out of this agency, Mrs. Stapleton.” He grinned in that same boyish manner her brothers used to capture her heart and get them their way. Gen recognized she’d have a hard time keeping this handsome husband of hers in line. But his next remark put her somewhat at ease. “You can rest assured, my dear, that I will honor your privacy.”
Chapter 2
All the way to the farm, Trace kept his head buried in the papers taken from the bulky envelope that Archie Gordon had given him. They outlined their work assignment, details he apparently felt she didn’t need to know at the moment. The man scarcely uttered a word when she’d tried to interrupt, feeling it her right to be involved in the initial process. But he’d passed her off with a swish of a hand, telling her to concentrate on keeping the team on the road. As if she’d never driven a buggy before. The man could be so arrogant.
The family was gathered for lunch by the time Gen pulled into the yard. They’d be annoyed at her delay. Braking hard, she peered at her husband.
“We’re home,” she stated bluntly.
He glanced up and grinned. “A relative word, no doubt.”
“No doubt,” she agreed. Her mind rested on the comfort this home had provided her. Today, she’d be forced to break her connection with the Trafton farm and her siblings – and all in two short hours. That was the time Trace allotted for lunch, goodbyes, and packing her life’s belongings. According to her partner, they had a case to investigate.
“Will you carry in the supplies?” Gen asked.
“Certainly.” He stuffed the papers back into the envelope and jumped from the wagon. He offered his hand and smiled. “Let’s make this quick, Mrs. Stapleton.”
“My life as I’ve always known it is ending and you want to make it quick? You need to learn patience, sir and perhaps today is a good time to start.”
After her feet hit solid ground, Trace boldly brushed a feathery kiss across her cheek and whispered in her ear. “Just in case the family is looking.” He walked to his horse, tied it to the back of the wagon and stashed the envelope in his saddlebag. He picked up the box of supplies and grinned. “Ready, sweetheart? A smile might be more convincing when I announce our secret romance and rush wedding.”
“Secret? You mean we’ve been meeting on the sly? You’ll ruin my reputation.”
“I’m sure your family has glimpsed your prudish side by now. Let’s paint a whole new picture of you.” Fists clenched at her sides, she gaped at the man who held her future in his hands. “You wanted adventure, didn’t you? What better place to practice than on the home front?”
At least he was right on the adventure part. “Okay, Mr. Stapleton. I can play any role needed to make this arrangement work. But don’t be surprised if you discover a whole new definition for the prudish spinster you think I am.”
“Now that’s the woman I want to get to know. Lead the way.”
When they opened the door and walked into the kitchen together, all conversation ceased and four sets of eyes gawked openly. Finally, Jethro jumped to his feet.
“Set an extra plate, little Ruth. Looks like your big sister has brought a man home.”
Trace set the supplies on a wooden table beside the door and Gen wrapped her arm through his, pushing him forward.
“Everyone, this is Trace Stapleton.” With her left hand free, she waved the wedding band that the Agency had provided during the ceremony and finished her introduction with, “my husband.” Her eyes lit up, as she smiled lovingly into Trace’s face. Gen did not miss the sound of him catching his breath, undoubtedly surprised at her brashness. There – that should keep the fox in the den for a while.
The girls were on their feet and rushing over to see the evidence. After the squeals subsided, the men wedged into the circle to shake Trace’s hand.
“Welcome to the family,” said Jethro. “You’ll have to overlook our shock. Genevieve never mentioned you.”
“No doubt at my request,” he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “She’s been a gem in keeping our little secret.”
“Why would a man request such a thing?” asked Grace. “My beaus love to shout it from the rooftops, eager for the competition to know they’ve entered the battle to win my hand in marriage.”
“Believe me,
I am equally thrilled at my conquest. Gen is everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman. But alas, my job restricts broadcasting such things.”
Gen stared at him. Really! Their job encouraged the union. But she supposed her family did not need to know all her secrets in one day. Leaving home and a husband would suffice.
“Your job?” asked Saul.
Gen spoke up. “And that’s all Trace will say on the matter. You must trust my judgment in my choice of man.”
“Well, you sure waited long enough,” said Jethro. “Both of you come and have lunch with us. Farm work won’t wait forever, especially now that Nick’s gone.”
Gen brought Trace to the table and they sat while Ruth rushed to the cupboard for more dishes. “My brother Nick took it upon himself to leave home for greener pastures. His heart was never loyal to the farm. Jethro and Saul will provide a good living for their families here.”
“Is that why you chose now to get married?” asked Jethro. “Because Nick left and I’m bringing a bride home in a few days?”
“I did take those things into consideration.” She turned her most wonderstruck gaze toward her husband and patted his hand. “That, and I couldn’t bear to be apart from Trace a moment longer. Pa’s been gone long enough – you don’t need me anymore.”
“And I must confess that I desperately need your Genevieve,” said Trace, beaming from ear to ear. “I will be forever grateful you saved your sister’s heart for me.” A touch of sadness filled Gen, for as a younger woman, she’d dreamt that a man would say those words and really mean it. She restrained her emotions, reminding herself his performance was a sham, a wicked slap at her lonely soul.
“How did you meet?” asked Grace. “I want to hear all the details.”
Trace proceeded to spin a tall tale, which Gen was relieved to see everyone at the table swallow as easily as the hot chicken soup placed before them. It appeared she and Trace met at the general store – how such an unromantic beginning mushroomed into a full-fledged love neither of them could fathom. When she offered to help him with his ailing father – rest his dear soul – Trace knew he could not live another day without her by his side. Even Gen was swept along the emotional ride as he spun the yarn of their imaginary journey that led them to the altar.
“But why didn’t you invite your family to the wedding?” asked Grace, pouting.
“I never craved the grandeur of a perfect setting with everyone gawking at me as I said my vows. You know I am not that sort of person, Grace.”
“Oh, phooey. You didn’t want to steal the attention away from Jethro and Sandy. That’s the sister I know and love,” said Ruth. A sob cracked through her voice.
“You’ve struck the nail square on the head, dear sister-in-law,” said Trace. “My wife is the kindest, most thoughtful creature God placed on the earth.”
Gen could see that Trace was enjoying this charade and playing it to the limit. It made her feel slightly sinful, but, at the same time, understood secrecy was of the utmost importance. On certain occasions, their lives might depend on no one knowing they were Pinkerton agents. She sighed, realizing she had no idea how the agency worked, and sadly, that left her at Trace’s mercy.
Trace turned to his wife. “Such a heavy sigh, my dear. You must be exhausted.” He addressed the family at the table. “I’m afraid we must eat and run. Gen needs to pack her things and get settled into her new home before nightfall.” Gen clung on every word, particularly interested to hear this part of his story. In the whirlwind confusion of the day, where she would hang her hat after walking away from the Trafton family farm had not entered her mind.
“Where are you taking our sister?” asked Saul.
“Not far,” said Trace. “I have a small house in Denver. We will be there off and on, but my job takes me on the road a lot. But I have the privilege of bringing my wife along, which thrills her. We consider it a wonderful opportunity to see our great nation first hand.”
“Oh, I’m so jealous,” said Ruth. “I’ve always wanted to travel.”
“Perhaps your future husband will have a mysterious job and will traipse around the country with you as well.” Jethro pushed his chair back and stood. “Me, I never want to leave the farm. I was born here, and this is where they’ll bury me.”
“Father would be so pleased to hear that, Jethro,” said Gen. “I promise to come back and visit whenever I can.”
“That’s all we can ask from a married woman. You have a new home now and I know that Trace will benefit greatly from our loss.”
Gen did the rounds, hugging her siblings and drying tears from her sisters faces. They followed her into her bedroom and watched her fold clothes and place them in a trunk. Toiletries and a few special items were tossed in so she’d always have memories of her family. Inside she feared the inevitable. Where would she live when the convenience of the team-front wore off, and Trace had their marriage annulled? What story would she tell her family when she returned to her roots, abandoned and alone?
She immediately dismissed those depressing thoughts. They hadn’t even begun to live the adventures, and she already dreaded the end. Regardless of how long her career lasted, she’d never return to this home. Leaving was a finality Genevieve must face today. The decision had been made to strike out on her own, for better or worse, and nothing would deter her from the path she’d chosen, no matter how spontaneous.
Trace carried her trunk and case outside. They borrowed the family wagon to take the load to town, but her husband promised to return it tomorrow. Everyone gathered on the front porch to wave goodbye. When Gen finally twisted around on the wooden seat, her past fading behind her and the future looming ahead, she fought back the tears. Optimism faded from her face as she focused on the passing trees to regain her composure.
“Regret your decision, Mrs. Stapleton?”
Gen sat erect to face Trace. “Not at all, Mr. Stapleton. You managed to communicate a convincing story to my family. Thank you. I believe I’d have vomited halfway through the mountain of lies.”
“It’s part of the job, Gen. We will have to portray many faces while solving cases together.” He tapped her hand lightly. “You put on a brave front. No one suspected that your heart was breaking.”
Gen regarded the man at her side. Such keen insight for knowing her only one day. The skill would help in their working careers; still she feared it might cause unnecessary stress when trying to maintain distance in their relationship. One-sided transparency was not her idea of an ideal partnership.
Twenty minutes later, Trace pulled up to a cabin located on the edge of town. It had a white picket fence across the front of the property and a gate. He helped her from the buckboard, and as she slid to the ground, their eyes met, and for a brief second, she melted into a pool of embarrassment. His hands tightened on her waist, and she pushed away.
“Please, don’t misread anything you might think you see beyond my prim exterior. As you suggested earlier, my emotions are mush at the moment. I believe I’m homesick already.”
“Understandable.” Trace took her hand. “Let me show you inside. Feel free to make it as homey as you like. I’m not here much so you can have run of the place.”
“But I’ll be gone when you are. This is simply our Denver location, right?” Gen asked.
“Right, but the offer still stands. I would prefer us to be as cordial as possible. Makes the job and life so much easier.”
“Spoken from experience,” she said, unable to shake her mind free that this man had been married twice before her. Was she jealous – surely not? It was part of the job, and she’d best wrap her head around it quick.
The spacious front porch enticed her. If she spent no time inside Trace’s house, this verandah would serve to satisfy her soul. Inside, she found the kitchen well equipped and a shiny blacktop for her to cook meals. A small table and four chairs sat in the middle of the space.
But it was the parlor that took her breath away. “Oh, Trace, what a wonderf
ul fireplace.” She held her hands next to her heart and gaped openly at the colorful display of rounded stones that reached to the ceiling. The open firepit was loaded with wood, a mere decoration this time of year. But she could imagine sitting around a cozy fire rocking in the chair and humming to the baby in her arms. She startled, wondering where that absurd image came from. Pinkerton agents did not have children.
Trace clinched the picture with a playful but sarcastic remark. “Rather a romantic spot, don’t you think?” He stared at her, and she squirmed under his intense gaze.
She cleared her throat. “What’s behind that door?”
“A tiny office where I store stuff and occasionally ponder cases.”
“Only occasionally?” she asked.
“I work better on my feet. Seems we are both rather spontaneous. Hope that doesn’t get us into too much trouble.”
“Today has been a one-time reckless day for me. I usually like to walk on the safer side of the road.” Gen smiled as she said the words.
“You only think that of yourself because you’ve never indulged a freer spirit. It’s there, my dear, ready for the unveiling.”
“How do you think you know me so well after one day?”
“One of my strongest attributes, which serves me well in the field. I hope you will trust my instincts on the job and not fight me tooth and nail.”
“That is not my plan. Division hinders teamwork and respect is the wheel that steers the boat.”
“Nice to see there are still reasonable women in this world.”
“That’s a rather sadistic remark, Mr. Stapleton. Have you encountered many women who did not live up to your expectations?”
“Been around. But let’s not talk of the past. We are beginning a bright new future. Let me show you to your room.”
“My room?”
“We have two bedrooms in this house. One for you and one for me. That was the agreement, right?”
“Yes, of course.” Gen couldn’t stop the crimson blush from creeping up her neck and into her face.
An Agent for Genevieve Page 2