The Engagement Bargain

by Sherri Shackelford

  The girl’s hands were stuffed in her pockets, and she bypassed them on her way toward the commotion. The crowd parted in her wake. Clearly Tony was a well-known character around town.

  Upon reaching the trunk, Tony bent at the waist and tilted her head. “There’s a dead fellow in there.”

  Marshal Cain jogged the distance from the telegraph office and gently moved the girl aside. “Thank you for the assessment, Tony. I’ll take care of things from here on out.”

  Caleb waved the girl over. “Tony, this is Miss Anna. Can you sit with her a moment?”

  “Sure. ’Cept she looks like she can sit alone fine enough.”

  Anna immediately liked the young girl. “You don’t have to stay with me.”

  “Oh, I’m staying. I can see and hear everything from this spot. We’ve got the best view of the hullabaloo. Not much goes on around here. When something does happen, it’s best to stay put and take in the show.”

  Well, at least Tony wasn’t being forced on Anna as a companion. That thought had her feeling positively ancient.

  Caleb chucked Tony on the shoulder. “Told you she was like Jo.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tony. I’m Anna.”

  Tony plunked down beside her, stretched out her legs, and crossed her ankles. “How do you suppose a dead man winds up in a trunk? Someone must have put him there.”

  Anna shivered. “Who would do such a thing?”

  “The marshal will figure it out. He’s smart.”

  Caleb surveyed the growing circle of curious spectators. “I’d best see if he needs any help.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Anna said, knowing he’d be concerned about leaving her alone.

  If nothing else, the marshal needed help controlling the crowd.

  Caleb crouched before her and tilted his head. “That is absolutely the most atrocious bonnet I’ve ever seen. I feel as though I’m talking with the brim and not you.”

  “Once I unpack my things, I promise I’ll burn it.” Anna loosened the strings and flipped back the brim.

  “That’s better.”

  The wind whistled through the trees overhead, sending leaves drifting over them. Anna shivered. Caleb shrugged out of his coat and draped the heavy material over her shoulders.

  “Do you want to sit inside?” he said. “You’ll catch a chill on top of everything else.”

  Anna glanced up and realized the dead body wasn’t the only spectacle attracting attention. More than one person stared at her and Caleb with open curiosity. Surely a town this large saw more than its fair share of strangers. Judging by the rapt interest, the two of them were as much of a curiosity as the dead body. They weren’t in Kansas City anymore, and she’d do well to remember the distinction.

  What had Mrs. Stuart been saying before the disruption? Anna recognized a gossip when she saw one. Someone had gotten engaged, and the news was obviously noteworthy. She’d ask Tony about it later. Right now they were creating a spectacle.

  People around here knew the McCoys, they knew Caleb. “I’m fine. I was simply surprised. One does not expect a body to fall out of a trunk. Despite the circumstances, I’m enjoying the fresh air. I’ve been cooped up for days.”

  Caleb lifted one corner of his mouth in a wry grin. “How do you like small-town life so far?”

  “It’s rather more exciting than I had anticipated.”

  “Sit tight. I’ll be right back.”

  After circling around the trunk, he stopped dead and met Anna’s eyes over the lid. “He’s familiar. I think I’ve seen him before.”

  “From where?” the marshal asked.

  “Kansas City. I think. Can’t say for certain.”

  Curious, Anna pushed off from the seat and sidled toward the men, carefully keeping the trunk positioned between her and the body.

  Marshal Cain looked up. “You can’t think of anything more specific?”

  Caleb rubbed his chin. “No, except, well, there’s something familiar about him. It’s right on the edge of my memory. It’ll come to me.”

  “What about you, ma’am?” The marshal caught her gaze. “Do you know this man?”

  The stern edge in his voice sent a flush of color creeping up her neck. The marshal was no fool. Someone wanted her dead, and now he had a body sprawled before him.

  Anna gingerly peered over the side. The dead man stared with unseeing eyes. In his thirties with dark hair and a full beard and mustache, he might have been anyone. Judging from the position of his body, he was neither tall nor short, fat nor thin.

  Her stomach lurched, and she pressed a hand against her lips. “I’ve never seen him before.”

  Anna leaned forward once more, then jerked back. “Perhaps he was a guest at the hotel.”

  With so many people milling about, she might have passed him on the stairs or seen him in the lobby before the accident.

  The marshal hoisted an eyebrow. “We’ll need to talk.”

  “I assumed as much.”

  Anna returned to the bench where Tony waited. “Can you see Jo?” she asked.

  Tony stood and tented her eyes with one hand. “Nope. She must be in the telegraph office. Probably staying put since she’s got the young’uns with her.”

  “I’m sure that’s best.” Though there’d been nothing gruesome about the sight, seeing a dead man was unsettling. “Can you help keep an eye out for my traveling companion? Mrs. Franklin? She’s tall and slender with gray hair, midsixties or so.”

  The press of curious townspeople closing in around the trunk and the dead man had left the platform a confusing mess.

  “I’ll keep a lookout.” Tony remained standing, searching the faces of the crowd. “Nothing yet.”

  Curious about the younger girl, Anna asked, “Do you have any brothers and sisters, Tony?”

  If Tony was an example, she wanted to meet the rest of the family.

  “Sort of. I live on the Elder place with my uncle. He’s the wrangler there. He’s the cook, as well. Kind of. I think he cooks more than he wrangles these days. The Elders have two children of their own, and then there’s Hazel and Preston.”

  “Hazel and Preston?”

  “Hazel came on the cattle drive with us. Her and Sarah and Darcy. Sarah lives in town. She’s sweet on Brahm McCoy. Darcy is Preston’s mother. She’s been staying with the Elders since Preston’s pa died.”

  The names buzzed around her head like a swarm of bees. “Where did Hazel come from exactly?”

  “The orphan train.”

  “I thought she was from the cattle drive.”

  “That, too.”

  “Tony, I might need a pen and paper to keep this all straight.”

  “Did you hear about the outlaw who hid his loot in a cave out by Hackberry Creek?” Tony asked.

  “I heard that part of the story.” At least they were once again in familiar territory.

  “We live in his old homestead. John Elder is Jack’s brother.”

  “And who is Jack?”

  “Jack married the outlaw’s widow,” Tony said.

  “Ah, yes, the infamous outlaw of Cimarron Springs. And they live in Paris.”

  “Texas.”

  A few of the confusing people in the jumbled explanation fell into place. “Then you live by Hackberry Creek.”

  “That’s the place,” Tony said. “Say, if you ever want to see the cave where he hid the loot, I can show you.”

  “That’s a lovely offer, but I’ve heard the description enough I feel as though I’ve been there already.” Anna couldn’t help but think of Caleb and his fear of closed spaces. “Sounds like quite a place to live.”

  “Mr. Elder asked me to meet the train. He sells horses. Mostly to the cavalry. I guess word about his stock has got out
. There’s a fancy couple interested in starting a horse farm down South. They’re looking to buy a whole passel of horses. Mr. Elder sent me on ahead to fetch them.”

  Tony tapped her chin and squinted at Anna. She glanced at the telegraph office and back. “Jo was exchanging letters with someone named Anna. Are you....” She searched the space around them and lowered her voice. “Are you one of them suffragists?”

  By now Mrs. McCoy was probably at the haberdashery swearing the proprietor to secrecy about the recipient of her housewarming gift. Which meant that by this afternoon, the news of her identity would blanket the town like fluffy seeds from the cottonwood trees.

  “I am,” Anna admitted, knowing her “secret” was anything but. By tomorrow, the whole town would know. So much for remaining anonymous.

  “What do you do? I mean, is it like a job being a suffragist?”

  “It’s more of a calling than a job.”

  This was precisely why coming to Cimarron Springs was not a waste. There was always an opportunity for changing someone’s mind, for educating someone about the cause. She’d have another recruit, another person who spread the word. They needed all the soldiers they could muster. The cause depended upon the next generation. While her mother believed the fight was winding down, meaning they didn’t need the younger generation, Anna disagreed. There was always another mountain ahead, always a need for fresh troops. Not every gesture need be grand.

  “Then, how do you make money? What do you live on?”

  “My mother is comfortably set, as am I.”

  Tony nodded sagely. “You mean she’s rich.”

  Anna sighed. In for a penny, in for a pound. “She doesn’t have to worry about money, that much is true. She gives speeches around the country and organizes other chapters. Right now she’s working on a sixteenth amendment to the constitution. She’s in Boston meeting with another chapter about a state amendment. Some people think we should target the states, others think we should target the federal government. Some members favor a militant approach, some members favor a peaceful approach. The chapters split over the direction of the movement after the War Between the States. It’s a job all on its own keeping everyone together in a united front.”

  “Why didn’t they put the women’s vote on the fifteenth amendment?” Tony braced her hands on her knees. “You know, after the war when they gave the black man the vote? Never could figure that one out.”

  “The process is complicated,” Anna continued more slowly. “The fifteenth amendment is another case where people didn’t agree. I think most people felt that the black man deserved his day in court without anything else clouding the waters. But I was just a baby back then. I don’t really know for certain. You’d have to ask one of the older members.”

  “Do you think Mrs. Franklin will know?”

  “She might.”

  If someone had told Anna two weeks ago she’d be sitting on a train platform with a tomboy telling her the history of the suffrage movement while waiting for her escort to clear the crowds away from a dead body, she’d have laughed at the absurdity. Life had a way of changing in a flash.

  “I’m glad we talked,” Tony said. “This stuff is interesting.”

  “If you ever want to know more, you can stop by. We’re staying in the old Stuart house.”

  Tony patted her knee. “I’m sure all those stories about how Mr. Stuart’s mother-in-law haunts the place are false. You should be fine.”

  “Uh. I don’t believe in ghosts.”

  “Neither do I. That thumping and chatter people hear at night, probably just bats or raccoons taking up residence. There’s nothing a raccoon likes better than an abandoned building.”

  “Bats?” Anna said weakly.

  Perhaps she should have been more open to Mrs. McCoy’s offer of cleaning help. Small-town life was definitely more stimulating than she’d expected. The next time someone bemoaned the sluggish pace of country living, she’d tell them about her first hour in Cimarron Springs.

  Word of the body had spread like wildfire. Everyone within a mile of town must have arrived by now. A string of wagons stretched down Main Street. Children fought their way past bustled skirts to get a better look, while scolding mothers held them back.

  The storefronts along Main Street soon emptied, signs reading Closed had been flipped into view. A gentleman scooted past the bench, a bit of foam from the barber visible behind one ear.

  The body was hoisted onto a makeshift litter, and a hastily salvaged sheet draped over the macabre sight, much to the disappointment of a group of school-aged children huddling on the fringes of the gathering.

  The boys jostled for a better view, shoving one another forward and ducking back until Tony marched over, her hands on her hips. Without saying a word, her presence sent the boys scattering.

  The town’s deputy, Caleb’s brother, David, was fetched.

  With all the commotion, Anna had a clear opportunity to study the McCoy brother who’d gotten Caleb’s job and his girl. They shared the distinctive McCoy coloring, dark hair and green eyes. They were both tall and broad shouldered. Yet there was something softer about David. A certain rounding of the chin and plumping of the cheeks that lent him a boyish quality, making him appear younger than his years.

  He was wider around the middle, as well. It wasn’t simply his physique that differentiated the brothers. David’s gaze lacked the sharp inquisitiveness of his sibling’s. Though she’d never met this Mary Louise, Anna found her taste lacking. Caleb was clearly the better choice of the two men.

  Mrs. Franklin emerged from the depot, took in the scene, and marched toward the commotion. She glanced at the sheeted body and fought her way toward Anna.

  “For goodness’ sake, is there a dead body beneath that sheet?”

  Anna threw her a resigned glance. “He fell out of a trunk.”

  “He was on the train? With us?”

  “I believe so.”

  “I left for one moment. One moment. I’m afraid to turn my back on you. We’re probably lucky the train didn’t derail on the way here.”

  “Ma’am,” the marshal said. “If you were on the train as well, would you like to take a look? See if you recognize the fellow?”

  Izetta tugged on her collar. “If it will end this nonsense sooner, then absolutely.”

  The marshal lifted an edge of the covering and Izetta leaned closer, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t know him. Although, I must say, there is something familiar about him.”

  Disappointment flickered across the marshal’s face.

  He searched the crowd milling about the platform and faced his deputy. “Let’s have the passengers take a look. It’ll make my job easier if we can figure out his identity.”

  Returning to the bench, Izetta wrapped her hand around Anna’s shoulder. “This is shaping up to be a rather odd day.” She leaned away, pulled a handkerchief from her reticule and pressed the embroidered fabric against her nose. “Excitement trails you, my dear.”

  “I don’t know if excitement is the term I’d use.” Anna indicated Tony who’d been watching the exchange with unabashed curiosity. “This is Tony. She’s been filling me in on the local legends.”

  Not to mention ghosts, bats and raccoons. She’d save those particular tidbits for later. She hoped Izetta didn’t harbor any superstitions.

  Tony bobbed her head in greeting. “I didn’t know suffragists were married.”

  “Widowed. We come in all shapes and sizes, as well as marital statuses.”

  “Have you ever met the president?”

  “I have not had the pleasure. Although I have penned him several letters in support of the cause.”

  The two struck up a lively conversation, and Anna let her attention drift. The train was delayed, much to the agitation of the conductor and the gru
mbling passengers who streamed onto the platform. David lined them up and scratched careful notes of their names and descriptions.

  At a lull in the conversation, Izetta glanced around. “Where are Jo and Mr. McCoy?”

  “Jo is keeping the children away from the commotion, and Caleb is managing the crowd.”

  “This has turned into a spectacle.”

  A flash of yellow caught Anna’s attention. “It’s the little girl from the rally.”

  “Where?”

  Anna pointed, and Izetta shook her head. “I don’t recall seeing her.”

  “She was definitely there that day. She gave me a bouquet of yellow flowers. Jo and Caleb saw her, as well.”

  Her last chance of remaining anonymous splintered into a thousand icy fragments. They knew her.

  Anna tightened Caleb’s coat around her shoulders. The wind had picked up, tugging at her hair and biting her ears and cheeks. She cupped her hands over her face and blew a puff of air, warming her chilled nose.

  The marshal searched the now-empty trunk and read the name inscribed on the domed surface. “Is there a Mary K. Phillips here?”

  The girl from the rally tugged on her mother’s hand. “That’s your name, mama.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Anna stifled a groan. The marshal wasn’t going to appreciate this turn of affairs one bit. Once again the coincidences were piling up. The little girl had been at the rally the day of the shooting. Mother and daughter had been staying at the same hotel. Now a body had rolled out of their trunk.

  Clearly agitated, the mother stepped forward, clenching her daughter’s hand, her chin set at a defiant angle. “I am Mrs. Phillips.”

  The woman was young, not much older than Anna. Her dress was expensively made, though a season or two out of fashion judging by the size of her bustle, a distinction Anna doubted anyone else noticed. She’d always had an eye for fashion, a useless trait in the Bishop household.