The Engagement Bargain

by Sherri Shackelford

  The woman was pretty, though clearly exhausted. Dark circles surrounded her hazel eyes, and the corners of her lips tugged down as though in perpetual frown. Tendrils of chestnut hair had escaped the tight bun at the nape of her neck. Neither mother nor daughter wore a coat against the late fall chill.

  The marshal nudged the trunk with one booted foot. “That’s the trunk you stowed in Kansas City.”

  “That is my trunk.” The woman’s frown deepened. “But I can assure you that is not what I packed.”

  Someone in the growing crowd tittered.

  The marshal held up a hand. “This is a man’s life. Show a little respect.”

  Several people ducked their heads. No one left the platform. They were all transfixed by the show playing out before them. No one wanted to hear about this event secondhand.

  The marshal waved Mrs. Phillips over. “Why don’t we let your daughter have a seat for a moment, ma’am, while we sort this out?”

  The woman offered a reluctant nod. She caught sight of Anna, but no recognition flared in her gaze. Expelling a breath, Anna caught the little girl’s eye. She patted the seat beside her, and the child skipped over. The mother hadn’t known her identity, which was something. Her secret was much safer with the little girl.

  “My name is Anna. I remember you from the rally. Would you like to sit next to me?”

  “My name is Jane. You’re the prettiest lady I’ve ever seen. That man—” she pointed at Caleb “—he said you were the prettiest lady he’d ever seen, as well.”

  Anna’s eyes widened. “Oh, my. That was a nice thing for him to say.”

  “When you were giving your speech and everyone started running and pushing, he protected me.”

  Why was Anna not surprised? Of course Caleb had come to the rescue. “That was very kind of him.”

  “He stayed behind to help someone who was hurt.”

  The marshal and Caleb flanked the girl’s mother, parting the crowd as they approached the draped body.

  Caleb knelt and pulled back the cover, revealing the man’s face.

  The woman’s hand flew to her throat.

  “Do you know this man?” the marshal asked.

  “Yes and no. I saw him before. In Kansas City. At the Savoy Hotel. He was always lurking around.”

  “Name?”

  “I don’t know. I never actually met him.”

  The marshal gestured toward the trunk. “I assume the last time you checked your trunk was at the hotel?”

  She offered another hesitant nod. “Yes. The porter took the trunk from our room and made the arrangements.”

  “Which hotel?”

  “I told you already. The Savoy. In Kansas City.”

  The marshal shot another look at Caleb. Anna sighed. None of this boded well for her welcome. Not only had she brought danger, she’d come accompanied by a dead body. The marshal was clearly protective of his family. How long before he decided Anna’s presence was a risk that wasn’t worth taking?

  She was dangerous and notorious. A lethal combination. They might have forgiven one of those offenses, but not both. She had her doubts.

  “How long was the trunk out of your sight?” the marshal asked.

  “Not more than hour,” Mrs. Phillips said.

  “Time enough for killing.”

  The color drained from her face, and her eyes rolled back.

  “She’s fainting,” Caleb called, catching the woman before she hit the ground.

  He gently lowered her the remaining distance. Izetta leaped up and whipped off her shawl. Caleb bunched the material and tucked it beneath the woman’s head.

  The marshal rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, that’s a fine kettle of fish.”

  “She’s had a shock,” Caleb said. “Is Doc Johnsen here yet?”

  “On his way,” the marshal replied.

  The little girl clutched Anna’s hand. “What’s wrong with mama?”

  Anna wrapped her arm around Jane, carefully averting her face. “Your mother will be all right. She’s had a bit of a fright.”

  Anna glanced around the crowded depot. All eyes were pinned on their odd tableau. Sweat beaded on her temple. She recalled the girls at Miss Spence’s Academy, how they’d stared at her as though she was some exotic animal. Their curiosity an odd mixture of fascination and disgust.

  Once her identity as the illegitimate daughter of the famous heiress had been exposed, the other girls had kept their distance, whispering behind her back and pointing. In the week before her expulsion, they’d tossed her shoes onto the roof and hidden her nightgown. Offences which had gone unpunished.

  While she assumed her shoes were safe among adults in Cimarron Springs, it was only a matter of time before their attitudes shifted. She’d leave well before that happened. Well before the McCoys were affected by her notoriety.

  Jane squeezed her hand. “Is mama sad because of that man in our trunk?”

  “Yes. I know this must all seem very strange and confusing.”

  “I saw him before, at the hotel.”

  Anna narrowed her gaze. “Are you certain?”

  “He was watching us.”

  Anna pulled back from the little girl and studied her face. “When?”

  “At the hotel yesterday. He made mama sad. That’s when she said we had to leave.”

  Anna’s heart sank. Mrs. Phillips had said she didn’t know the man. Her daughter just revealed they’d talked. How were those two involved? Worse yet, she’d have to disclose her suspicions to the marshal.

  With every new revelation, the news grew more tangled. “Don’t worry, Jane. The marshal and his brother-in-law will take good care of your mother.”

  What would happen to the little girl if her mother was accused of murder? Anna shoved the thought aside. Simply because the man had been watching them didn’t mean Mrs. Phillips was involved. Perhaps Jane was mistaken.

  Not for the first time, Anna noted that Jane was wearing the same yellow dress from the rally. Memories assaulted her senses. The pungent scent of burning fuel from the fires set against the frigid wind, the sunlight bouncing off the windows of the buildings around the square. The sound of the shot. Caleb lifting her into his arms.

  Calming her ragged breathing, she focused her attention back to the present.

  Already Mrs. Phillips was coming around. Jane’s mother struggled upright, her hand pressed against her forehead.

  The conductor approached, his watch chain swinging from his fingers. “I can’t hold up this here train all day. I’ve got a schedule to follow. If I’m late, everyone on down the line is late.”

  The marshal gestured for David. “Allow everyone back on the train once you’ve taken down their names. Did you search the rest of the luggage car?”

  “Yep. Nothing suspicious. This seems to be the only body.”

  “Then let ’em go. Not much more we can do.”

  The woman stifled a sob, and Caleb helped her into a sitting position.

  She gasped and frantically searched the crowd. “Where’s Jane? Where’s my daughter?”

  Caleb placed a hand on her shoulder and pointed. “She’s with Miss Anna. Safe and sound.”

  The woman visibly relaxed, and Caleb assisted her to her feet.

  Her face pale, she approached the marshal. “Am I under arrest? This isn’t our stop. We must get back on the train.”

  “Where are you headed?” the marshal asked.

  The woman paused. “Texas.”

  The hesitation was only a tick, but enough that Caleb and Garrett exchanged a glance. Anna shook her head. Whatever her involvement, the woman was only making matters worse for herself and her daughter by lying.

  Mrs. Phillips must have sensed her error. She glanced at her c
lenched hands, her face ashen.

  The marshal flipped over the tag on her trunk. “According to this, you were going to Cimarron Springs.”

  “There must have been a mistake. We’re, uh, my daughter and I, are bound for Texas.”

  The marshal rocked back on his heels. “Why don’t you stick around town for a day or two instead? Until we get this all sorted out. We’ll put you up in the hotel. I’ll even buy you both another train ticket when everything is sorted.”

  Judging from her stricken expression, the woman had caught the subtle undertone in his words. The question was not when, but if. The body had been discovered in her trunk. According to her daughter, she’d spoken with the dead man the day before. She’d been afraid of him. The little girl had been at the rally. None of the pieces of the puzzle were particularly damning, but taken together, they aroused suspicion.

  Anna rubbed her arms.

  Jane unfurled a length of string. “Do you know Cat’s Cradle?”

  “No. But maybe you can teach me.”

  Mrs. Phillips pressed her hands against her cheeks. “Are you forcing me to stay? Do I have a choice?”

  The marshal’s gaze was sympathetic but unwavering. “I can arrest you and force you to stay. Or you can remain here voluntarily.”

  Her back stiffened. “Then I suppose we’ll be staying.” She whipped around and marched toward her daughter. She snatched the girl’s hand. “Come along.”

  Jane reached for Anna. “Where are we going?”

  “We’re going to stay in town for a while. We’re going to have a little adventure.”

  “Can I see Miss Anna again?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  The girl glanced over her shoulder, and her look resonated with Anna: the loneliness, the isolation. Something had gone wrong in their little family. Something that had scared her mother. While Anna didn’t want to believe the woman was capable of killing a man, there was a good possibility she had.

  Mrs. Phillips caught Anna staring and pursed her lips. “I don’t know. We’ll see.”

  Tears welled in the girl’s eyes.

  Sensing her distress, Caleb rested his hand on Anna’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, the marshal is a good man. He’ll do what he can.”

  Two men lifted the litter holding the dead man’s body and set off down the street. The group of boys trailed behind in an odd parade. Now that the show was over, the passengers filed back onto the train.

  Another thought chilled her to the bone. Jane had been at the rally. Mrs. Phillips had been conspicuously absent.

  Had Mrs. Phillips been involved in Anna’s shooting? They all assumed a man had shot her. A woman was just as capable of murder as a man was.

  No. Anna violently shook her head. Shooting her put Jane in danger, and Mrs. Phillips clearly loved her daughter. Besides, she’d shown no recognition of Anna.

  A sharp gust whipped her skirts around her legs.

  At her reassuring smile, Caleb had resumed his conversation with the marshal.

  She’d left one set of worries behind, only to pick up another set.

  * * *

  The marshal glanced at Mrs. Phillips and her daughter and back at Caleb. “How much do you know about them?”

  “Nothing. Jo and I saw the little girl at the rally. She was alone. After the shooting, Jo took her back to the hotel and found her mother.”

  “What about Anna? How much do you know about her?”

  A flush of anger crept up his neck. “She’s not involved, if that’s what you’re thinking. We’ve been with her the whole time. There was a guard at her door. There’s no way she could have done this. Besides, you’re better off asking Jo about Miss Bishop.”

  “I’m asking you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Jo admires her. Because I like to take care of my family.”

  Caleb lowered his hackles. Marshal Cain was simply protecting his wife. He’d do the same. “I only know what I’ve seen the past few days. She’s tough. She’s loyal.”

  The marshal hitched his fingers into his gun belt. “Jo said the same thing.”

  “I haven’t seen anything that would make me question her loyalty. You weren’t there. You didn’t see what happened when she was shot. She’s the victim, not the aggressor.”

  The challenge disappeared from the marshal’s expression. “That’s another thing. Jo asked me to look into the shooting. Didn’t discover much. They think the shooter hid out in a building across the way. The window on the second floor was unlatched. I don’t get the feeling the boys up north are putting much into the investigation. They figure it’s all wrapped up with the suffragists’ movement. They don’t think it’s personal.”

  “They’re idiots. There were two attempts on Anna’s life.”

  A muscle ticked along his jaw. They’d been standing mere feet away from Anna while the man had waited and watched. They’d been entranced by the speech while the killer had taken aim. He’d been one door away from her when the second attempt occurred.

  The marshal squinted. “And you don’t know of any other reason why someone would want Anna dead?”

  “She’s a suffragist, you know that much. Her mother is famous. I’m sure Jo has filled you in on the family. Anna is on her way to overtaking her mother’s fame. After hearing her speak, I don’t have any doubt she can lead the movement.”

  “Then, you think this has to do with the suffragists, as well?”

  “Partly, sure, but it’s personal. The man tried again. He might have succeeded the second time if there hadn’t been a guard at the door.”

  “What a mess. But if this is about the cause, why target Anna alone?”

  “She’s a powerful asset. Don’t know if that’s worth killing over, but people get odd ideas.”

  The marshal made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat. “Someone wants Anna dead. Then a body shows up in Cimarron Springs. Mrs. Phillips was staying at the hotel. You saw her daughter at the rally.”

  “I know Anna.” Caleb glanced up sharply. “She had nothing to do with any of this.”

  “I didn’t say she did. There’s a lot of bodies piling up around your Miss Bishop. A lot of the same people are circling around, winding up in the same places. You think it’s a coincidence those two women were on the train with a dead man?”

  “I don’t know how. We were careful. No one saw us leave the hotel.”

  Caleb recalled Mrs. Stuart’s earlier declaration and groaned. “There’s something else. Before. At the hotel. The desk clerk registered Anna as my fiancée. Mrs. Stuart’s sister lives in Kansas City. Evidently she visited the hotel, put two and two together, and made five.”

  The marshal adjusted his hat over his eyes. “The Stuart sisters are fond of a good piece of news. Especially if they have it first. It’s not such a bad idea.”

  “I don’t think Anna would agree.”

  “She might not have a choice.” The marshal nodded in the direction of Mrs. Stuart. “Gossip spreads faster than maple syrup on a hot day around here.”

  Perhaps the discovery of the body had distracted Mrs. Stuart. There was time, time for setting the rumor to rest.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Think about this, as well. This town is full of good people. They’ll do right by Miss Bishop, I don’t doubt that. But if people think the two of you are engaged, she’s part of the family. The McCoys are well respected around here.”

  “She’s a friend of Jo’s. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Everyone knew Jo was in town for that rally. Might be better if they think the rally was a convenient excuse for you to do a little courting. A little misdirection buys us time.”

  The idea made sense if there weren’t so many other problems. “What happens if pe
ople discover that we’ve deceived them?”

  “You gotta give people credit. If they feel like they’ve helped save someone, they’ll forgive soon enough.”

  “Anna is the last person that needs saving,” Caleb said. Mostly he was worried about his own hide. She’d made her feelings about an engagement bargain abundantly clear already. “She’s smart and independent. She’d rather meet this problem head on than hide behind a lie.”

  The marshal lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. “You don’t have to explain to me. My wife once shot me.”

  “To save you.”

  “See. It’s all about intent.” The marshal flashed a grin.

  Anxious to leave the conversation behind, Caleb offered a greeting as Mr. Lancaster, the blacksmith, approached them with a young woman whom Caleb assumed was his new bride. “Caleb, I wanted you to meet my wife.”

  She was petite and shy, her head down, her two blond braids wrapped around her head like a coronet.

  “This is Helga.”

  She offered a few murmured words of greeting, her quiet voice heavily accented.

  “We’ve just seen her mother off.” Mr. Lancaster hid his relief well, but not well enough. “We’ll be seeing you at the Harvest Festival, won’t we?”

  The marshal touched the brim of his hat. “Our family will be there.”

  “Excellent. Helga hasn’t had the chance to meet too many people yet.” He gazed adoringly at his new bride. “Best be getting home. Looks like it might rain.”

  Caleb tipped his face toward the sky. Sure enough, the horizon appeared hazy and dark. Mr. Lancaster clasped his wife’s hand and led her toward their wagon.

  The marshal followed their progress with a slow shake of his head. “We’re going to need a new blacksmith.”

  “Are they moving?”

  “Mr. Lancaster may not know it yet, but they’re moving, all right. You should have seen the tears when his wife’s mother left.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s leaving.”

  “Mr. Lancaster is smitten, and his wife is unhappy. You don’t need to be a Pinkerton detective to put those two pieces together.”

  Caleb glanced at where Anna was sitting. She tilted toward the left, her hand braced on the bench, her lips pinched and white. Her suffering touched off a fierce protectiveness, and he understood what the marshal was saying. He’d wrestle a grizzly if his actions alleviated her suffering.