by Karen Kirst
Marigold peered over her shoulder at Deborah, who was arranging a seating area in the spacious entrance of what was to be the new library—Will and Tomasina’s former home. Since they’d pinned their hopes on Washington, DC, the mayor and his wife had built a more modest home in town and had sold this one at a reduced price to their friend Daniel Gardner. He, in turn, had generously donated the well-appointed, multilevel house to Cowboy Creek.
“If I had to guess, I’d say Adam wants ideas for romantic gestures.” Grinning cheekily, Marigold slid the books one by one onto the middle shelf.
“Flowers are always a good start,” Anna said, accepting the other woman’s explanation as fact. “Unless she’s sensitive. Do they make her sneeze?”
Adam shook his head. “This has nothing to do with Deborah.”
His gaze drifted to her standing at another shelf, and once again, he let himself admire the way her summery pink cotton dress draped becomingly over her figure. She caught him looking and, gifting him with a smile, continued with her task.
He found himself longing for the carefree camaraderie they used to enjoy. While she’d thawed in his company, she hadn’t fully relaxed her guard.
Marigold’s snicker brought his head around. Both women regarded him with soft, knowing gazes. Wasn’t tough to figure out where their thoughts had led them.
“You’re aware of the true reason I’m in town.”
The cloud of dreamy hopes hanging over them dissipated.
“Our husbands informed us.” Anna’s small hand came to rest atop her bulging stomach. “How can we help?”
“I need a list of the women in this town whose names begin with D as soon as possible.”
Marigold chewed on her lip. “Are there any limitations? Age, for instance?”
“I don’t have exact parameters. Let’s say no younger than eighteen and no older than sixty.”
“I’ll start with my students’ mothers and expand from there,” Marigold said.
“We can work together to avoid overlap,” Anna suggested.
“I appreciate it, ladies.”
One important aspect of his line of work was utilizing valuable local resources, everyone from lawmen to shopkeepers. He would’ve asked for the information days ago if he hadn’t gotten distracted by personal matters. Before Cowboy Creek, Adam hadn’t had to balance a personal and professional life. The handful of married agents he’d been in contact with had made it seem effortless. Not that he’d given it much thought. Any ideas about courtship or marriage had been fleeting, shelved for the foreseeable future.
Now he not only had his mother and brothers and their families to contend with, he had a former-suspect-turned-friend and a pair of sweet kids depending on him.
He rejoined Will and Daniel on the second floor and helped them reposition a piano in the music room that would house instruments, sheet music and books pertaining to music and the great composers.
Volunteers worked throughout the morning. His stomach was registering the long hours since breakfast when Deborah found him in the kitchen with several others, indulging in coffee and pastries.
“We have a picnic to attend,” she reminded him. “The basket’s already packed. We simply have to fetch Liam and Lily.”
“I’m ready.”
Draining the creamy brew, he placed his empty cup in the dish basin and thanked Tomasina, Leah and Grace. The three friends had been directing the volunteers and managing the chaos with aplomb.
Deborah hugged each woman. “I’m sorry we have to leave, but we’d already promised the kids we’d take them fishing.”
“The grand opening isn’t until the last day of June,” Grace Burgess said with a dismissive gesture. “We have another ten days to prepare. I promise there will be more opportunities to pitch in.”
“You can count on us,” Adam said.
“I’m happy to hear it.” Tomasina accompanied them to the main door and waved goodbye.
Deborah cast a final look at the sprawling house. “What a wonderful asset this will be for Cowboy Creek’s citizens.”
They strolled along the lane toward the street. “Big Bend wasn’t large enough to support a lending library, unfortunately. The locals swapped their private collections.”
“You do the best with what you have,” she said. “St. Louis has an adequate one, but I rarely used it. We had enough books at the estate to satisfy me.”
Eager to learn every detail about her life—not because of a case, but because he wanted to know her as well as he possibly could—Adam peppered her with questions. After initial hesitation, she spoke at length about her upbringing, her mother and the pain of losing her, her home in what sounded like a behemoth display of wealth and her social activities. Not surprisingly, Deborah had been involved in her church and various charitable endeavors.
He was disappointed when their arrival at Aunt Mae’s curtailed their conversation. The kids’ excitement soon eclipsed that, however. Such a short time ago, Liam would barely speak to anyone besides his sister, and Lily had been cloaked in sadness. They’d been in a poor, desolate state.
Because of Deborah’s care, they were cheerful, energetic and on the road to better health. As Liam skipped along and plied him with questions about what type of fish they could hope to catch, Adam liked to think he’d had a part in their improvement, as well.
Glancing over, he caught Deborah’s sparkling gaze. They shared a smile, eerily similar to the ones he’d seen Seth and Marigold swap.
Was she thinking what he was thinking? That the siblings made life richer? More unpredictable but also interesting?
“Who’s that?” Lily said, pointing to a horse and rider heading their way.
“No idea.” Adam strode a few steps ahead of the others. They were only a quarter of a mile from town and the stockyards, but there was no one else around. “You all hang back until after I’ve had a chance to meet him.”
Deborah gathered the kids to her side, her eyes shadowed by more than her straw hat.
When the stranger guided his horse to a stop not far from where Adam stood, he pulled off his hat and ran his hand over the short, graying strands. “Good day, folks. Out for an afternoon of recreation, I see.”
The lazy drawl and muddy eyes sparked recognition in Adam. “Doc? Is that you?”
He leaned forward in the saddle. “Halloway?”
“In the flesh.” Grinning, Adam reached up and pumped his hand. “How long has it been? Eighteen months? Last I heard, you’d retired.”
“I discovered that sittin’ around coolin’ my heels wasn’t for me.” His gaze cut to Deborah, interest sparking to life. “I missed the news of your nuptials. I didn’t figure you’d ever relinquish your solitary life.”
“There were no nuptials,” Adam choked out. “This is my friend, Deborah, our famous local baker. And these are the Quinn siblings.” He tugged at his collar. “Doc and I used to work together on occasion.”
Liam and Lily mumbled greetings. Deborah welcomed him to town, though her curiosity was plain.
“Adam’s one of the best men in the agency,” Doc told her. “Devoted. Sharp. A true asset.”
The praise meant a lot coming from someone Adam had aspired to emulate. “No one’s better than Doc.”
“Agency,” Deborah stated. “What agency?”
“Only the best in the nation,” Doc boasted. “The Pinkerton National Detective Agency.”
Adam watched her absorb the news, shock her dominating emotion. He couldn’t tell whether she was impressed or appalled.
He turned back to Doc. “Tell me, did Pinkerton himself beg you to return?”
“Nothing like that,” he chuckled. Pointing to the fishing pole in Liam’s grip, he said, “I won’t keep you any longer. I’d like to catch up whenever you’re available.”
“Where are you staying?
”
“The Cattleman.”
“I’ll meet you for supper tonight, if you’re so inclined.”
“It’s a deal.”
After they’d agreed upon a time, he rode away, a puff of dust trailing behind him. Adam couldn’t wait to hear what Doc had been up to and what had brought him to Kansas. He might confide in him about Ogden and get his advice.
He turned to find the kids at the stream’s edge. Deborah had remained in the same spot, her face a mask of worry.
“What’s troubling you?”
“Nothing.”
“You sure?”
She shifted her gaze to his and offered a tremulous smile. “What a coincidence that your old colleague showed up here. Is he from this area?”
“Doc? No, he’s from Chicago. He always said he’d retire there.” Taking the basket from her, he led her to a shaded spot beneath the trees. “I’ll find out tonight if he’s working out of that office or if he transferred elsewhere.”
Deborah spread out the quilt and, sinking onto the faded material opposite him, she began to unpack the containers. “Why do you call him Doc?”
He laughed. “Quite a few of the agents earned nicknames. You’d think with a name like Doc, he’d have medical knowledge, but that’s not the case. He’s prone to swooning at the sight of blood.”
“Oh? What’s his actual name?”
He stopped and thought. “I don’t remember. Isn’t that odd? Everyone always called him Doc.”
“Well, I’m as eager as you are to discover exactly what he’s doing in Cowboy Creek.”
* * *
While Adam and Liam waited for the fish to bite, Lily skipped along the bank, her twin braids flopping and her new, snowy white pantaloons flashing from beneath her hem. She hummed a hymn they’d sung in church on Sunday, one that spoke of God’s sustaining peace.
Deborah did not feel peaceful. Perched on the quilt, she fretted over her sister’s message and this sudden appearance of Adam’s colleague. Were the two connected? Could Doc be the agent her father hired to track her down?
The rational part of her brain insisted it was simply a coincidence. Doc resided in Chicago, not St. Louis. Plus, how many women named Deborah could there be in a boomtown like Cowboy Creek? She hadn’t changed her name because, in her distressed state, she hadn’t thought to make up one when Sadie asked on the train.
At least his arrival had given her insight into Adam’s life before Cowboy Creek. The Pinkertons were highly respected for their work. Made sense he’d be part of an organization like that.
Lily plopped down beside her. “You don’t like fishing, either?”
“It’s not so bad, but I’d rather relax and soak in God’s beautiful handiwork while I can. Soon I’ll have to return to Aunt Mae’s and start on tonight’s dessert.”
Her eyes lit up. “Can I help?”
“You don’t have to ask. You’re my official helper now.”
Deborah was having such fun passing along her cooking and baking knowledge to her willing pupil.
Lily wrapped her arms around Deborah and snuggled close. “Can we stay at the boardinghouse forever?”
Inhaling the gentle scent clinging to Lily’s hair, Deborah rested her arm across her back and sighed. “I was thinking we could find a house to rent one day soon.”
Tilting her head, she gazed up in awe. “Truly?”
“Would you like that?”
“Oh, yes! What about Adam? Would he move to the house with us?”
“Oh.” Deborah snuck a glance at him, relieved he hadn’t overheard. “Well, Adam and I aren’t married. Besides, his job takes him all across the nation.”
Her joy squelched, the little girl fiddled with the ribbon around Deborah’s waist. “I don’t want him to leave.”
Me, either. “He’ll return for frequent visits, I’m sure. His family is here, and you and Liam. He cares about you as much as I do.”
“Who will take Liam fishing?” she asked quietly.
“Seth or Russell, perhaps. If not, I’ll take him.” The expression on Lily’s face made Deborah burst out laughing. “What? You don’t think I’m capable of digging up and baiting worms?”
Lily shrugged, reluctant to say something negative. Deborah started tickling her. Their cackles brought Adam and Liam over.
“What’s so funny?” Liam demanded.
Lily lay on the blanket, panting. “It’s a secret for the girls.”
Adam staved off a stinging, brotherly retort by announcing they’d given up for the day but would return that weekend. He enlisted the kids’ help with gathering the rest of their belongings. Deborah folded the quilt, her thoughts on her family back home.
Should she pen a letter to her father and explain everything that had happened since her spontaneous flight? Outline her new plans for a future of her own choosing?
What should I do, Lord? Continue to hide out like a common criminal or fight for what I want?
* * *
“Halloway.” Doc shuffled to his feet and gestured to the seat opposite him in The Cattleman, his mood noticeably grimmer than it had been that afternoon. “Glad you could make it.”
He’d chosen a secluded table in the far corner of the swanky hotel restaurant. There were a dozen or so diners scattered throughout the room, a mixture of traveling businessmen and couples he’d seen around town.
Adam made himself comfortable and spread his napkin across his lap. He ordered coffee and braised beef with scalloped potatoes and trimmings, then set about discerning what had occurred to put that worried gleam in Doc’s eyes.
“Are the accommodations not to your liking?”
Doc rubbed an endless ring around his coffee mug. “Nothing like that. The bed’s nice and soft—I’m getting old enough to require daily naps—and the walls are thicker than most.”
“Is it a case you’re working on? I’d be happy to provide a listening ear. Truth be told, I’ve got a wily one myself.”
No matter where he went, he was always on alert for another sighting of Ogden. He wouldn’t fully relax until the man was in custody.
“As a matter of fact,” Doc said, “I could use your insight into my current case.”
Adam leaned back against his chair and crossed his arms. “Start from the beginning. I’ve got as much time as you need.”
“The beginning, huh? That would be the day a man named Gerard Frazier darkened my door.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Time slowed. The name Frazier hit him with the force of a Minié ball.
Doc placed a pristine tintype beside his silverware. Adam picked it up and studied the beautiful, familiar face smiling back at him. Deborah, at probably fifteen or sixteen years of age. Doc had to have known who she was the instant he saw her earlier today, yet he hadn’t let on. He was a seasoned detective.
Lips pressing together, Adam returned the tintype.
“She told you, then?” Doc prodded. The agent’s gaze missed nothing. “About her reasons for fleeing St. Louis?”
Blanking his face, he balled the napkin in his hand. “She told me. You’re here on behalf of her father?”
“Mr. Frazier is worried about his daughter.”
Anger sparked inside Adam. “From what she’s told me, he’s more concerned with maintaining business relations than with Deborah’s happiness.”
Doc sagged against the chair, a hint of censure in his muddy eyes. “What about his side of the story?”
Adam averted his gaze. Beyond the window framed with heavy draperies, folks hurried about their business. He couldn’t stop worrying how Deborah was going to handle being found.
Doc was right to question him. Their training emphasized objectivity. Theirs was the first national detective agency, and Allan Pinkerton had ensured his agents were equipped with the tools and
knowledge necessary to solve crimes. How could Adam justify his support for Deborah without revealing he’d allowed things to get personal while conducting an investigation? The fact that it wasn’t an official Pinkerton case didn’t matter.
“Did you meet the man she was betrothed to?” Adam asked his colleague.
“I did.”
His wait for further details proved futile. “And? What’s he like?”
“He’s irrelevant to this conversation,” Doc insisted. “You should be asking about Mr. Frazier and how you can help me reunite him with his daughter.”
Their meals arrived, giving Adam a chance to try to cool his ire. Ignoring the enticing aroma wafting from his plate, he sent a hard stare across the table.
“I’m not going to do either of those things. Deborah doesn’t want to marry Tobias Latham.”
Doc didn’t so much as blink. “Who does she wish to marry? You?”
The tips of his ears burned. “I realize the scene you happened upon today might’ve given you the wrong impression—”
Doc’s disbelieving cackle drew the other patrons’ attention. “Might have? Son, to anyone with eyes, the four of you looked like a cozy family unit.” Leaning forward, he tapped the tintype he had yet to put away. “Admit it. You’ve gone and fallen for her.”
“She’s a friend,” Adam insisted, the lie bitter on his tongue.
That kiss went beyond mere friendship, and so did his feelings. He just wasn’t sure how to classify what he felt for her.
After considering him for what felt like a lifetime, Doc tucked into his fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Adam ate without tasting. His thoughts were on Deborah and the kids back at the boardinghouse. She had no idea what was about to befall her.
“You ever hear of an agent named Peter Calhoune?” Doc spoke with his mouth half-full, his head slightly bent, the single globe light on their table glinting in his hair.
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Peter was the finest agent I’ve ever worked alongside. He snagged more outlaws than any other man in Pinkerton’s employ. According to the rumors, he received the highest wages of any of us.” Waving his fork around, he shrugged. “He deserved it, in my opinion.”