The silly grin on his friend’s face caused Gideon to grit his teeth, but courtesy demanded he at least make the introduction. “Tessa Langford, Ty Sawyer.”
Ty swept his hand across his middle and executed a courtly bow. “Miss Tessa, pleased to meet you.”
Gideon stifled a growl. “What brings you to town again so soon, Ty?”
Ty leaned against the counter. “I came in to make my loan payment at the bank. But I saw something while I was standing there waiting that I thought you’d be real interested in.”
“What’s that?”
Ty took off his neckerchief and wiped the sweatband of his hat. “I’d just stepped up to the window when the clerk asked me to wait for a minute and went into Sewell’s office with a handful of papers. He left the door open, and I could see Kilgore and Behr sittin’ in there with Sewell.” Ty paused like he was waiting for Gideon’s reaction. “I’d give a week’s wages to know what was going on in there, wouldn’t you?”
Gideon rubbed his chin. “Kilgore and Behr—both in there with Mr. Sewell?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Were they’re doing anything illegal?”
Ty stuck his hand into the gumdrop jar. “What do you think?”
“I think I have work to do, and I think you owe me about twenty-five cents now for all the gumdrops you’ve eaten in the past month.” He lifted a crate of sewing notions to the counter and pried off the top.
“Look, Gideon, if this guy Behr is doing business with Kilgore, you better watch your back.”
A frown forced Gideon’s brows downward. “I appreciate you telling me about this, Ty, but what can I do? Even if I thought they were doing something illegal, the sheriff isn’t going to do anything since he answers to Kilgore.”
“Gideon?”
He’d almost forgotten Tessa was standing there. The stricken look on her face indicated she’d all but forgotten their earlier disagreement.
“Gideon, I feel terrible. I should have told you sooner about what I overheard.”
He took a step closer to her, deliberately moving between her and Ty. “Tessa, we don’t even know what they’re up to yet. It could be something completely legitimate.”
“Pfft.” Ty grunted. “You really believe that?”
Gideon shrugged. “Truthfully, no. But until we can prove otherwise, all we can do is wait and see.”
Ty shrugged. “Suppose you’re right.” He turned and bestowed a huge smile on Tessa. “Miss Tessa, there’s gonna be a barn dance next Saturday night over at the Johnson place. I’d be pleased to escort you.”
Gideon’s insides twisted. He sucked in a breath and shot daggers at the guy who was supposed to be his best friend. But Ty seemed oblivious, standing there twisting his hat, waiting for Tessa’s reply.
No, Tessa. Tell him no.
Tessa’s lashes dropped to her cheeks in a demure pose as a tiny smile curved her lips. “Why, Mr. Sawyer, that’s so kind of you to ask.”
If one could chew his own teeth, Gideon gave it his best effort.
A ridiculous-sounding chuckle came from Ty’s direction, and Gideon suppressed the urge to throw the jar of gumdrops at him. As soon as Ty leaves, I’m going to ask you myself, Tessa, so just tell him no.
She gave Ty a sweet smile. “Martha was telling me about the barn dance just yesterday. I’m sorry, but I’ve already made plans to attend with someone else.”
Ty’s grin drooped, and he shuffled his feet for a moment. “Oh. Well, maybe I’ll see you there.” He plopped his hat back on his head and lifted a hand in good-bye.
Gideon barely acknowledged Ty’s leaving. Instead his eyes followed Tessa as she turned toward the storeroom. Who had already asked her to the barn dance? “Tessa?”
Tessa turned in the doorway. “Yes?”
“Um, about the barn dance …”
“Gideon, if you don’t mind, could we talk later? I need to get these pies in the oven, and the heat is just right.”
His head bounced up and down. “Oh, sure. You go right ahead. Don’t let me keep you.”
The courage to inquire about the man with whom Tessa planned to attend the barn dance eluded Gideon for days. He’d managed to initiate topics about almost everything else, but he couldn’t bring himself to speculate on the identity of the man who would hold Tessa in his arms and waltz her across the barn floor. Perhaps it didn’t matter, since Tessa’s opinion of his dream still left a bitter taste in his mouth. The bell on the door jingled.
Gideon looked up to greet his customer, but the words stuck in his throat. He’d mulled over the information Ty gave him several days ago, as well as the conversation Tessa had overheard, but came to no conclusions.
Now Hubert Behr entered the store wearing the same dignified expression he’d worn the first day Gideon met him. “A pleasant afternoon to you, young fellow. Might I have a word with you?”
Warning signals shot through Gideon’s head. “Good afternoon, Mr. Behr. How may I help you today?”
Behr cleared his throat. “First off, I must apologize for the delay in getting back to you. My business here has taken a bit longer than I expected. I do hope the mercantile is still available for purchase.”
Gideon glanced in Tessa’s direction and saw a frown flit across her face at the mention of selling the mercantile. With Ty’s information in mind, Gideon exercised caution before replying. “I thought you might leave Willow Creek as soon as your business was finished.”
One thick eyebrow lifted slightly as Behr silently questioned Gideon’s response. “No, I’m not planning to leave anytime soon. I would like to make an offer on your place, but it will take at least a couple of weeks before I can finalize any plans.”
The man named a figure that matched Gideon’s original asking price.
Gideon studied Behr’s face, searching for signs of deceit or corruption. “Sir, if I might be so bold, may I speak frankly?”
Behr nodded. “Of course, young man. What’s on your mind?”
The store was empty at the moment, but the presence of Tessa’s Bakery had increased the number of customers coming and going, and Gideon didn’t want to be interrupted. He spoke quietly and quickly. “Mr. Behr, you seemed like a decent sort when you first arrived. But I must say I’ve been more than a bit concerned to see you in the company of Henry Kilgore numerous times. I apologize if I’m out of line, but I feel I should warn you. You would do well to be careful in dealing with Mr. Kilgore.”
Hubert Behr’s gray eyes narrowed and scrutinized Gideon for a long minute. Just when Gideon was certain he’d not only overstepped his bounds but probably also ruined any chance of selling the mercantile, Behr finally spoke. “Young man, you seem to know more than you are letting on, so let me caution you. Employ discretion before proceeding.”
Gideon glanced in the direction of the storeroom where he could hear Tessa humming as she worked. He wanted no confrontation with Hubert Behr with Tessa close by.
He took a deep breath and met Behr’s steady gaze. “Sir, I have reason to believe you are engaged in business with Henry Kilgore. He’s probably told you by now that I’ve refused to sell him the mercantile.”
Behr showed no reaction.
“My decision not to sell to Kilgore is based on several reasons, both personal and ethical.”
The front door opened, and two ladies entered carrying large market baskets over their arms.
Gideon threw Behr a pointed look before greeting his customers. “Morning, ladies. How may I help you?”
The women both declared they wished to purchase baked goods, and while Tessa filled their orders, they browsed through the bolts of cloth, exclaiming at the colors and choices.
Gideon motioned to Behr to step over nearer the door to put more space between them and the ladies. “Mr. Behr, I’m sorry, but I can only assume you’re here as a proxy for Kilgore, trying to purchase the mercantile for him.”
Behr lowered his head and slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket.
; Gideon nailed an unblinking stare at Behr’s arm, waiting to see if the man might pull out a derringer. His mind raced along with his pulse making lightning decisions how to position himself to protect Tessa and his customers.
Through the thick curtain of tension, one of the ladies called to him. “Mr. Maxwell, might I get a dress length of this cloth, please? And I’ll need some thread and buttons as well.”
Gideon didn’t take his eyes off Behr as he replied in a voice he hoped sounded natural. “Of course, Mrs. Clary. I’ll be right there.” He paused to see if Behr would react. When he didn’t, Gideon excused himself and went to meet his customer’s need, hoping Behr would simply leave. He started to measure out the yardage the woman requested when he heard Tessa’s voice.
“Would you care to sample some of these cinnamon cookies or perhaps some pound cake, sir?”
Gideon’s eyes widened as Behr crossed to stand next to Tessa and accept a tidbit from her tray.
All spit evaporated from his mouth, and clumsiness attacked his fingers. After managing to cut and fold the material for the woman, he hurriedly added up the other purchases and finalized the transaction. “Thank you, ladies.
Come again.”
He turned to where Behr was still standing and chatting with Tessa.
She handed him a bag, and he paid her for his purchase. “I hope you enjoy it, sir.”
“I’m sure I shall, young lady.”
Gideon took Tessa’s arm and gently pushed her toward the storeroom, positioning himself in front of her. “Mr. Behr, I doubt we have any more to say to each other, so I’ll ask you to leave now.”
He heard a soft gasp behind him. “Gideon!”
Behr’s expression did not change, but his eyes shifted toward the door. “Mr. Maxwell, is there a place we can speak privately where we won’t be interrupted? I fear I have given you the wrong impression.”
Gideon folded his arms across his chest. “Mr. Behr, you’ve been seen in Henry Kilgore’s company on numerous occasions, and you’ve been heard exchanging business plans with him. Earlier today you and Kilgore were meeting with Roland Sewell. Exactly what impression was I supposed to get?”
Behr glanced past Gideon’s shoulder where Tessa still stood. “I can see you won’t be satisfied until I reveal my true purpose for being here. If you will trust me, I’d like to meet with you anywhere you say, someplace private, so I can clear up this misunderstanding.”
Gideon deepened his frown. “I have no reason to trust you, sir.”
The thick mustache on Behr’s lip tweaked. “Very prudent, young man. But if you will allow me, I will prove I am worthy of your trust. However, we should not be seen leaving the store together. Tell me where you’d like to meet, and I shall be there.”
“Gideon …” Tessa’s frightened whisper tugged at him.
The man’s odd statement aroused deeper suspicion, but Gideon slowly nodded. Without taking his eyes off Behr, he spoke to Tessa. “Tessa, would you mind taking care of the store for a short time? I don’t think this will take long.”
The silence was broken only by Tessa’s sharp intake of air.
After probing Behr’s face for a full minute, Gideon spoke. “Take the main street through the edge of town past the livery stable. There’s a grove of cottonwoods and elm trees to your right. Beyond that, you’ll see the town cemetery. Meet me by the pines on the far side of the cemetery. It’s about a ten-minute walk.” Gideon pulled out his pocket watch. “I’ll be there by two o’clock.”
Behr nodded and walked out the door.
Tessa gripped Gideon’s sleeve. “Gideon, please don’t go there alone. What if it’s a trap? What if he brings Mr. Kilgore with him? When Mr. Kilgore said you were in for a surprise, his voice was so cold and hateful. Gideon, please don’t go.”
sixteen
Gideon berated himself as he approached the stand of pines at the far end of the cemetery. If Behr was luring him into a trap as Tessa feared, the spot was too remote to expect help to arrive quickly should the need arise. Indecision caused Gideon’s steps to hesitate. Should he abort this meeting or see what the man had to say?
Hubert Behr stepped out of the shadows. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Maxwell.”
Gideon gave the man a wary nod.
Behr reached into his coat pocket and extracted a wallet. “I should begin by telling you my real purpose for being in Willow Creek.” He opened the leather folder and displayed the identification within.
Gideon studied the pewter badge and the words engraved around it, unsure whether to believe what Behr was indicating. “Pinkerton National Detective Agency. You’re a Pinkerton agent?”
“I am.” Mr. Behr’s tone, though modulated, held the ring of authority.
Abrasive edges of puzzlement troubled Gideon. “What business would a Pinkerton have in a town the size of Willow Creek, Iowa?”
Behr tucked the wallet away. “The Chicago, Kansas and Nebraska Railroad received a most interesting letter from Mr. Roland Sewell describing some rather creative land deals Henry Kilgore was attempting to put together. Included were Mr. Kilgore’s ongoing practices of intimidating business owners and landowners in this area to sell to him at deflated prices. The railroad contacted the General Land Office in Washington, which in turn contacted our Chicago office requesting that we investigate Mr. Kilgore’s activities and gather tangible evidence of fraudulent transactions.”
Skepticism tussled with relief in Gideon’s mind. Behr seemed to use all the right words and phrases, and the identification he’d displayed moments ago bore silent testimony to the man’s explanation.
Behr interlaced his hands in front of him and cleared his throat. “I might ask you how you knew I was meeting with Mr. Kilgore and Mr. Sewell earlier today, but that’s not really important. However, I would like to prevail upon what I suspect is your sense of honor and request your assistance.”
Gideon guarded his expression while he digested Hubert Behr’s revelation of his identity. A Pinkerton agent! If that were truly the case, Gideon had a few questions. He steeled his eyes. “Mr. Behr, how do you explain the overheard conversations in which you indicated entering into a partnership with Kilgore?”
A slight shrug lifted Behr’s shoulders. “One of the distasteful parts of this business, young man. Sometimes the investigating agent must employ a bit of fiction before the suspect will relax enough to divulge information we need to build a case. Speaking untruths is not something to which I aspire. Unfortunately, I’ve recently found it necessary to lead Mr. Kilgore to believe my occupation is procuring land for the railroad—with a willingness to engage in private land speculation on the side.”
“And the reference to altered land grant maps?”
Behr’s bushy eyebrows arched slightly, but Gideon didn’t plan on naming Tessa as the one who overheard the conversations.
“The surveyors, as well as the cartographer hired by Mr. Kilgore, were taken into custody this morning without Mr.
Kilgore’s knowledge. My agency is now in possession of the maps, which were rather masterfully revised, I must say. The forgeries appear to be quite authentic. They were the last piece of evidence I needed. All that remains now is to take Mr. Kilgore into custody.”
Gideon weighed the credibility of the man’s answer. The memory of the slight tremble in Tessa’s voice accompanying her urge for caution gave him pause. Another question nagged him.
“If all this is true, how does your offer to buy the mercantile fit in? How can I be sure you aren’t making a deal for Kilgore?”
Behr didn’t blink. “You can’t, young man. Life is full of uncertainties. That’s why God’s Word encourages us to learn wisdom and discretion.” His eyes remained fastened on Gideon, but his mustache twitched. “Even Pinkerton agents tire of adventure after a time and desire a bit of a slower pace. My investigating days are drawing to a close. I can assure you my offer is legitimate. I’ve shown my identification credentials and given an explanation. I can’t make you b
elieve me.”
Gideon took a slow, deep breath. “Exactly what is it you’re asking me to do?”
Behr smiled. “Send word to Kilgore that you’ve changed your mind about selling the mercantile to him and you now wish to discuss a deal.”
Tessa glanced toward the door for the hundredth time since Gideon left, then she looked at the clock. Had it really only been twenty minutes since he followed Mr. Behr to the agreed-upon meeting place? Anxiety weighed in her chest where she knew faith should reside.
The scriptures she’d read in the past weeks about God’s care and protection echoed in her mind, along with her mother’s repeated admonition that God was worthy of her trust. Such trust was a choice, much like the choice she’d made months ago to survive to honor Mama’s memory.
She finished sprinkling cinnamon sugar over the top of a pan of scones and slid it into the oven. Wiping her hands on a towel, she squared her shoulders. Those days following Mama’s funeral, Tessa believed her survival depended upon herself and her own perseverance. Reading the precious words in Mama’s Bible and remembering the faith she’d learned at her mother’s knee birthed fresh understanding of God’s care. Even now she realized she could do nothing to ensure Gideon’s safety, and his well-being depended completely upon God’s grace. She whispered a prayer for God’s protection.
Her disagreement with Gideon earlier in the week made little sense now. Admittedly Gideon’s well-thought-out plan of raising farm horses in no way resembled Papa’s selfish whims. Furthermore, a man didn’t share his dreams and goals expecting rejection.
After several restless nights, understanding had dawned. Gideon confided his plans to her because they were friends. No, more than friends. He’d almost kissed her.
Every time she was in his presence, contentment warmed her and there was nowhere else she wanted to be. When she was apart from him, she ached with a longing that only his return satisfied. The times she caught him gazing at her or when he sent her a toe-curling smile, an entire colony of butterflies turned loose in her stomach. How could she deny the connection that existed between them?
Truly Yours Historical Collection December 2014 Page 44