My Heart Belongs in Galveston, Texas

by Kathleen Y'Barbo

  “What are you implying?” she said as her temper rose.

  “I am implying nothing. I am saying that if you do not watch yourself with that man, you will fall in love with him.” Gretchen paused and looked as if she might be assessing her. “Perhaps you already have.”

  Madeline laughed at the thought. “I am not going to dignify that with an answer. Jonah Cahill barely tolerates me, and the feeling is mutual.”

  Gretchen’s smile was all the response she would offer.

  “No, really, there is nothing between us, Gretchen.”

  The maid shook her head and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Madeline to her breakfast and the morning edition of the Galveston Daily News. There on the second page beneath a story chronicling the benefits of Dr. C. McLane’s Liver Pills and beside an advertisement for the Hazard Powder Company Blasting and Mining Powder was a headline that read, MISCELLANEOUS NOTES FROM THE EVENT OF THE ARRIVAL OF THE FORMER PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES AT THE HOME OF THE ILLUSTRIOUS BROWNS.

  Intrigued, Madeline folded the page and began to read. A moment later, she stalled on this sentence: Of particular interest to this reporter, and later to the guests assembled three floors below, was the conduct of a certain employee of the Pinkerton Agency and a certain resident of New Orleans lately employed both by the grand and highly respected Picayune newspaper and a widow of high regard who has taken temporary but quite fine lodgings in this fair city.

  There was no byline anywhere, but the author was obviously Walter Townsend. She slammed the paper down on the table. “Of all the nerve.”

  Though she did not want to read any more of Mr. Townsend’s tirade, she had to see what other rubbish the readers of the paper would have read about her and Jonah. By the time Madeline had read two more paragraphs—the contents of which included a commentary on the question of whether a Pinkerton agent ought to be courting while on duty and a rumination as to how the lady reporter’s dress had become torn after an assignation with the Pinkerton on the roof of the second-floor porch while the former president was being feted on the ground floor—she was furious. Stating in print that she and Jonah had a former romance that was being rekindled with a kiss under the stars was the absolute last straw.

  “We did not kiss,” she said to the paper in her hand.

  Tucking the newspaper under her arm, Madeline pressed past Gretchen. “Has Madame awakened from her nap?”

  “She has not,” Gretchen told her. “What’s got you all riled up? And who did you not kiss? Is it that Pinkerton man?”

  “Please let Madame know I am going out,” she said, ignoring the maid’s question. “Depending on how long it takes me to find that weasel, I may be gone a while.”

  “There are no weasels in Galveston,” Gretchen protested. “Rats and mice, yes, but no weasels.”

  Madeline snatched up her hat and then turned to look over her shoulder at the maid. “That isn’t true. I know for certain there is at least one at the Galveston Daily News offices.”

  She stormed to the front door and opened it only to find a young woman in a yellow frock and matching hat about to knock. Madeline stopped short and collected herself and then offered a polite smile.

  “Is this the Smith residence?”

  “It is, but I am terribly sorry,” she said. “Madame is indisposed, but I can leave her your calling card.”

  She smiled. “Oh no, that will not be necessary. It is not Mrs. Smith I am here to see. Might you be Madeline Latour?”

  “I am.” She took note of the stranger’s honey-colored hair and dark blue eyes. Something about her was familiar, but Madeline couldn’t quite figure what that was or why she might think so. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

  “You do not, but I feel as though I already know you.”

  Her voice was gently bred, her accent definitely local. Still Madeline could not place her. “Well now,” Madeline managed. “You do have me at a disadvantage.”

  “Hello, Miss Latour. My name is Susanna Cahill, and my brother is hopelessly in love with you.” She paused. “Again.”

  Madeline shook her head and suppressed a groan. Of course.

  Though she had not met Jonah’s family when they were engaged, plans had been in the works when the engagement ended.

  “Please do not believe what the newspaper says. I was just on my way to the Daily News office to lodge a strong protest.”

  “What does a newspaper have to do with anything?” she said.

  She gave the woman a sideways look. “You didn’t see anything about your brother and me in today’s Daily News?”

  “No,” she said slowly. “Why?”

  “No reason,” Madeline hurried to say as she reached behind her to place the folded newspaper on the breakfront nearest the door. “But if that is not the basis of your opinion of your brother’s romantic life, then I think you must have me confused with someone else.”

  “I assure you I do not.” Her smile was broad, her tone curious. “Although if I know my brother, and I assure you I do, you are likely confused.”

  “I am, actually. Oh, forgive my manners.” Madeline stepped back into the corridor. “Won’t you come in?”

  Miss Cahill nodded toward the sidewalk and the street beyond where a buggy awaited. “I much prefer to take a ride if you’re up for it.” She returned her attention to Madeline. “I am harmless, I assure you. If that’s why you’re reluctant.”

  “I’m not reluctant,” she said as she adjusted her hat and stepped out onto the porch. “However, I am still absolutely certain that you are mistaken about your brother’s feelings toward me. I assure you we are just two people working on the same investigation.”

  Her smile sufficed for an answer as she nodded toward the buggy. “Shall we go?”

  Madeline climbed in beside Miss Cahill. Glancing back at the house, she spied Gretchen watching openly from one of the front windows. As the buggy pulled away, Madeline thought she saw a curtain move in Madame’s room. Was she watching too?

  She sat back against the seat and focused on the road ahead. The traffic on Broadway Avenue was light this time of the morning although the sidewalks were heavily populated with pedestrians.

  At Twenty-Third Street, Susanna made a right turn and headed into the wind down the road that led to the Gulf of Mexico. She drove very much like Jonah, throwing caution to the wind to fly past all the other vehicles on the road and yet being careful at the same time. It was an odd combination of driving skills that until now Madeline had believed belonged to Jonah alone.

  She slid a sideways glance at Susanna and noted that the young woman also had Jonah’s profile. That stubborn set to his chin that Jonah had perfected looked softer and quite lovely on his younger sister.

  As they drove past the Ursuline Academy, she offered Madeline a quick glance. “I do appreciate your time this morning,” she said. “And since I believe we will be seeing much more of each other once my brother finally comes to his senses, I would like it very much if you would call me Susanna.”

  “All right, Susanna,” she said. “Then I am Madeline.”

  Silence fell between them until the road gave way to the beach. Ahead blue skies touched the water, which changed to a shade of darker greenish blue that deepened to muddy brown near the shore. A few wispy clouds floated by as if chased by the breeze.

  Susanna brought the carriage to a stop at the edge of the sand. She swiveled in the seat and regarded Madeline with a smile. Though carriages and wagons traveled the road behind, the screech of gulls and waterbirds drowned out the clip-clop of the horses.

  “My brother says I am too quick to speak my mind.” She shrugged. “I do not disagree with him.” She smiled. “However, I do not plan to mend my ways, so perhaps I should apologize now for being so blunt.”

  “I much prefer complete honesty, and to be perfectly blunt, I wish I had met you when Jonah and I were engaged to be married. But that was ages ago,” she said.

  “One year,” Susanna corrected.r />
  “But I do think you’re mistaken about Jonah. He and I have been at odds since he broke the engagement. I don’t suppose he told you I almost caused him to be arrested last year, so I cannot fault him with deciding not to go through with the marriage.”

  “The McRee case,” she said as she pushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Yes, he did mention it. Several times, actually.”

  “Then you can see that he and I barely tolerate each other.”

  Even as she said the words, she thought of Jonah spending last night in a chair to keep the household safe. Of him putting his life on the line to get her out of danger in Indianola. And of him coming to her rescue at the Brown party when she might have been horribly embarrassed.

  “Oh, I’m sure that’s what my brother wants you to think.” She looked up as a pair of seagulls flew past. “He calls me stubborn, but truly he’s just as obstinate.” Susanna returned her attention to Madeline. “It’s not what he says about you but rather how much he talks about you.”

  Madeline shook her head. “I don’t follow.”

  “Jonah is a private man. I would like to blame the Pinkerton Agency for that, but he was that way well before he joined. He always attracted the ladies, even when he was younger, but I can count on one hand the number of them he actually spoke about.”

  “Well,” Madeline said slowly, “while I understand what you’re saying, is it possible that he happens to be talking about me because we are working on an investigation together?”

  “Oh yes, the investigation. Do you know he’s said absolutely nothing to me about what you’re investigating?”

  “I would assume that is because it is confidential.”

  “Oh, I don’t expect him to share details. That’s not what I mean. He hasn’t said what you’re investigating, but he has said a lot about things that have happened during the investigation. For example, he talks about how brave you were when you were being shot at, how relentless you are when you are looking for answers, and how you and he share the same love of astronomy. Don’t you think that is a lot to say about one person when you cannot say anything about the investigation?”

  Interesting. Still…

  “He can’t,” Madeline protested. “Nor can I. Being unable to discuss an investigation is not unusual.”

  “I am willing to agree to disagree,” she said. “In fact, I bet he is frantically searching for you right now.”

  “Why?”

  Susanna giggled. “Because I may have left him a message that I was taking the buggy to come meet you.” She paused. “But I’m really not here to convince you. I just wanted to meet you.”

  “And now you have, Susanna.” Jonah stepped around the buggy to stand beside Susanna. “Hello, Madeline. What has my sister done this time?”

  “Well look who is here,” Susanna said as she gave Madeline an I-told-you-so look. “You’re right. I like her very much. She suits you perfectly, and I am wishing right now that you weren’t too stubborn to admit this.”

  For the first time since Madeline met Jonah Cahill, he looked like he had no idea what to say. Finally he turned his attention to her. “I apologize for whatever my sister has done.”

  “Even the part where she told me how popular you’ve always been with the ladies?” Madeline teased.

  “Especially that,” he said with the beginnings of a grin. “Although you can believe it if you want to.”

  “See,” Susanna said. “He even makes jokes around you. Jonah Cahill never makes jokes.”

  Jonah stood his ground despite the fact that both his sister and his partner in the Smith investigation were grinning like fools. “All right, Susanna. That is enough.”

  Susanna put her hands on her hips, a sure sign she wasn’t giving in so easily. “I see you got my message.”

  “Get out of the buggy,” he said through clenched jaw.

  As his sister climbed to her feet, Jonah looked over at Madeline. “Excuse us just a minute.”

  “What are you doing?” he demanded when he got Susanna far enough from the buggy to be sure Madeline couldn’t hear them.

  “Trying to get your attention,” she snapped.

  “Okay, it worked. Now what?”

  “Now you can face the fact that you are crazy about that woman over there and maybe see you have too much still between you to ignore it.”

  Crazy about Madeline Latour? Where did this woman get her ideas? He looked down at his younger sister, temporarily speechless.

  “We have a broken engagement between us, Susanna,” he protested, trying not to think of that one kiss he just missed with Madeline. “I am not ignoring that.”

  “Maybe you should,” she snapped. “Forget what broke you up and concentrate on what you have now.” She paused. “I just want you to be happy, and I think you’re not going to be happy if you miss this second chance, Jonah.”

  “I know you do,” he said. “I’m just not convinced you’re right about this.”

  “Yes you are,” she said as she watched him closely in that way his sister had. “You are absolutely certain and absolutely terrified all at the same time.”

  He opened his mouth to protest and found he couldn’t. Unfortunately, Susanna was right.

  “Get in the buggy,” he finally told her for lack of a better response before stalking over to the buggy.

  When she so quickly complied, he realized why. Though he stood back to put her in the middle between him and Madeline, the infuriating woman got in on the other side. To accommodate the woman who was taking up far more room than her tiny body required, Madeline had to scoot so close to him that her side was wedged against him.

  He looked beyond Madeline to catch Susanna staring in his direction. “Ready when you are,” she said as she squeezed her elbows out, causing Madeline to move even closer—if that were possible.

  Later he would have a serious conversation with his little sister about the consequences of meddling in his life. Right now, however, he found conversation—and concentration—difficult.

  Jonah turned the buggy toward home, his horse firmly tied to the back. They rode in silence until he pulled to a stop in front of the Cahill home.

  “Give me a minute,” Jonah said to Madeline as he jumped out and untied the horse then handed Susanna the reins.

  Stowaway, the orange cat that had declared all of Cahill property its kingdom, hurried to thread itself around Jonah’s legs. After bending to scratch the persistent beast under its chin, he rose to look down at Susanna.

  “See to the horse. I’m taking Madeline home.”

  Susanna gave him her brightest smile. “Take your time, Jonah. Officer Pearson is coming for dinner on Friday. You and Madeline are welcome, of course.”

  She raised her voice when she delivered the dinner invitation. Of course that was his sister’s way of making sure Madeline could hear.

  “Thank you,” Madeline said. “I think that sounds like a good time to find out what Officer Pearson knows, don’t you, Jonah?”

  His sister was already giggling by the time Madeline finished speaking. “Stop it,” he told her.

  “Do you really think I will?” Susanna said.

  Several responses occurred to him, but he chose not to speak at all. Rather, he turned his back on the meddling female and stalked toward the buggy.

  “I apologize for my sister,” he said evenly as he climbed up onto the seat. “She loves me but doesn’t use good sense when she speaks. That is sometimes a dangerous combination.”

  “Does that mean I am not invited for dinner on Friday?”

  “What? No, I mean yes. Sure, you’re invited for dinner.” He looked past her to where Susanna was silently laughing as she held tight to the horse’s reins. “Like you said, it will be a good time to see what Officer Pearson knows. He wasn’t at the station this morning when I stopped by.”

  “Oh, yes. I forgot you were going to see about the man in the rose garden.”

  “I found out plenty, but let me get so
mewhere a little less noisy then I will tell you what I discovered.”

  While he maneuvered the buggy around people and various types of wagons and carts, Jonah gripped the reins and wondered just how dangerous Susanna’s words had been. True, he had spoken of Madeline to Susanna, but surely he’d said nothing that would prove embarrassing.

  He squared his shoulders and ignored the worrying thought that Susanna had likely found a way to embarrass him anyway. Crazy about Madeline Latour indeed.

  Preposterous idea.

  Madeline slid him a sideways look. When she grinned, his heart flip-flopped worse than the time he got thrown from his horse when he was twelve.

  Jonah guided the buggy down the avenue that ran alongside the bay and then turned onto a small road nearly hidden by tall sea grass and cattails. The sounds of carriages and horse carts faded as the shrill call of terns and egrets beckoned.

  He’d spent many happy hours fishing at the end of this road, truly more of a nearly hidden horse path. He swiveled to face Madeline, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “Whatever my sister said, ignore at least half of it. Or more.”

  “We’re in the middle of an investigation, Jonah,” she said sweetly as she peered up at him from beneath the brim of her hat. “Shouldn’t we just talk about that?”

  Relief flooded him as he answered with a nod. So she was smart enough to see his sister’s foolish attempt at matchmaking as just that—foolish.

  “All right, Donovan may have handed the trespasser over to a police officer,” he told her, “but there is no report of the arrest.”

  An egret rose from the bay to soar overhead, and the horse nickered. “How is that possible?”

  “It isn’t.” He shifted positions and let the reins drop over his leg. “Either the trespasser never went to the station or Donovan handed him over to someone who wasn’t a police officer.”

  “Or Donovan lied.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Jonah. I know he’s a fellow Pinkerton detective, but we have to look at all the possibilities.”