Morgan reached out and grabbed the reins. “Whoa, girl. It’s fine.” He looked at Rilla and saw that her cheeks were bright red. She must be embarrassed. He might as well help her by letting her know he knew about her lack of riding experience. “You’re doing fine. It won’t take long for you to get used to riding.”
She looked sharply at him. “You could tell?”
“Well, yeah. An experienced rider would be more at ease in the saddle and not be startled at a small stumble. You might want to relax your back some. It’ll be screaming at you if you stay that straight. This is one time it’s okay to slouch.” He gave her a sideways grin.
She did as he suggested though her corset kept her back straighter than his would be. “This better?”
“Yeah. At least you aren’t so stiff.” They rode for a few minutes without speaking.
“I think you might be right. I’ll bet the letters are mixed up,” Morgan said.
Rilla grinned at him. “I’ll bet the second word is ‘work’. It’s the only word I can think of with those four letters.”
“Oh, you leave the hard word for me, huh?” He chuckled.
“There’s no way I can figure it out in my head. Work was easy. There’s what, seven letters in that other word? I’ll need a piece of paper and a pencil. Can’t write while riding a horse. At least I can’t.”
“Me either. We can solve it once we get to Golden. We’ll get a room and solve the puzzle.”
CHAPTER THREE
THE TOWN OF Golden was small, having lost nearly half of its population during the war. It was still an important center for business as it catered to the towns further into the Rocky Mountains connecting them by rail. It boasted the only paper mill west of the Mississippi River, as well as flour mills and ore smelters.
Rilla was used to the rough western towns. She’d grown up moving from town to town with the traveling theater troupe her parents belonged to. The last time she was in Golden, Rilla had been about nine. It had been a much larger town then.
They rode up to the hotel that was attached to a saloon. Rilla stayed on her horse since she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stand if she got off. It was rather far to the ground from her perch in the saddle. The last thing she wanted to do was collapse in a heap while Morgan was in the building.
As she waited, Rilla hoped that Morgan would be able to secure a room with more than one bed. The last thing she wanted to do was sleep on the floor, but she would if necessary. There was no way she was going to share a bed with Morgan. Sure, he was legally her husband, but she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him not to keep his hands to himself. Rilla didn’t want to clobber him, but she knew the parts of the body that were most vulnerable and could aim well with feet or fists.
As soon as this case was over and they got back to Denver, Rilla was going to get this marriage annulled. No way was a man going to control her again.
Morgan came out and gave her a questioning look. As he approached his expression changed and she knew he had figured out why she hadn’t dismounted.
“Let me help you down,” he said as he reached up and clasped her around the waist. Rilla groaned as she lifted her leg over the upper pommel. Morgan lowered her slowly, keeping hold of her until she was steady on her feet. “A little stiff, are we?”
“I don’t think it’s ‘we.’ I doubt you are stiff or sore.”
Morgan chuckled. “No, I’m not. This was a short easy ride compared to what we may encounter over the coming days.”
Rilla wanted to slug him. That would take more movement and energy than she had at the moment. Instead she walked slowly to the boardwalk and used the hitching rail to pull herself up. Please, don’t let the room be on the second floor.
Morgan’s hand grasped her elbow and the other encircled her waist. The support he lent her was welcome as they moved across the lobby. Rilla breathed a low sigh of relief as they bypassed the stairs and headed down a hallway. All she wanted to do was get out of her riding habit and into a nightgown. She didn’t even care if she had anything to eat for supper. She certainly wasn’t going to any dining room.
Morgan unlocked the door and they entered their room. Rilla could have kissed him when she saw two narrow cots with a side table between. She stepped between them and sat on the left one, remaining still, wishing the aches would go away.
“I’m going to unload the horses and take them to the livery. Do you need anything before I go?” Morgan asked.
Rilla nearly waved him away but thought better of it. “Would you help me take my boots off, please? That way I won’t have to bend over.”
“Certainly.” Morgan knelt in front of her and looked up when she didn’t raise her skirts for him to access her foot. His position made Rilla think of a man proposing to his love. She could feel her cheeks heat and jerked her skirts up to her calves.
“Thank you,” she murmured when both boots were tucked under the bed. Rilla desperately wanted some water but wasn’t going to ask. Morgan needed to tend to the horses and since she wasn’t going to be able to help him, there was no way she was going to ask.
Morgan left and Rilla began removing her clothes. By the time her habit was laid across the end of the bed and her petticoats lay in a heap on the floor, she decided she could sleep in her chemise and drawers. Her stockings too. All she needed to take off was her corset cover and corset. They soon joined the petticoats and she kicked them under the bed. At this point she didn’t care if they picked up any dust. The only thing she wanted was to get under the covers and try to sleep.
Her movements to stand and draw back the bedding and crawl in elicited groans as every muscle protested. As Rilla pulled the sheet and blankets over her, she wondered why Morgan hadn’t entered with any of their things. He had surely had time to bring some as she’d been very slow in undressing. Was he leaving some at the livery? She closed her eyes and hoped it wasn’t her carpetbags. Rilla’s last thought as she drifted into sleep was that she didn’t want her belongings stolen.
~~~~~
Morgan looked down at his sleeping wife. He’d known having a woman along was going to make this case more difficult but hadn’t considered that he might be paired with such a greenhorn. She barely knew how to ride a horse. That she was so stiff and sore after a twelve mile ride meant they’d have to travel very slowly until she was used to the demands of their journey.
It didn’t appear as if Rilla would want to get up for supper. He’d just head down to the saloon attached to the hotel and get some food and a drink. He’d bring something back with him in case she woke up and wanted to eat. He knew there would be boiled eggs, bread, and pickles that were nearly always available for free. Morgan was hoping for a hot meal, maybe stew or beef and potato pie.
Looking down at the pile of carpetbags he’d dropped by the door, Morgan shook his head. Disguises, humph. Like they’d need those. No one knew what they were doing. Why Archie thought they would need that stuff, he didn’t know. He did know that he’d be the one hauling everything into and out of any hotel they stayed at as well as loading them on the donkey.
When Morgan walked into the saloon he surveyed the occupants. Several soiled doves looked him up and down. There were several men at the bar and more playing cards at a table in the corner. Layers of smoke filled the room with haze. He walked up to the bar. Bottles lined the wall behind it under a large painting of a woman with little clothing lying in a provocative pose. One of the soiled doves played listlessly on a piano.
“A beer, please,” he said as the barkeep came over. As he suspected, there were bowls of eggs, pretzels, pickles, cold cuts and bread free for drinkers. When the beer was placed in front of him, he asked, “Is there hot food available?”
“Not free.” The man tilted his head toward the food on the bar.
“Didn’t expect it to be. I’ll have whatever you’re serving. I’d also like to take some of that,” he indicated the items on the bar. “My wife’s feeling poorly. She won’t want much
.”
“Take what you need. I’ll go get your stew.”
Morgan took another drink, then turned around and leaned back against the bar.
“Well, I’ll be, Morgan Weston.” Morgan recognized the voice. “Fancy meeting you in Golden.” The man rose from the poker table and came over.
“Davis Forrest. What are you doing way out west?” Morgan stood straight and reached out his hand. They’d been soldiers in the same company during the war.
“I thought you were dead. Heard you were in that rebel Cahaba Prison in Alabama when you got captured in the war. Glad to see I was wrong.” Davis grabbed his hand and gave it a hearty shake.
“I was. One of the lucky ones I guess. Now, tell me how you got out here.” Morgan didn’t want to discuss what happened. He didn’t like remembering it.
“I came out here after I was mustered out. Got the gold fever. Or silver.” Davis gave a snorted laugh. “Decided I didn’t like the cold and wet and backbreaking work for little gain. Moved here. Working at the grain mill. Hard work but I get paid every week.”
The barkeep brought Morgan’s stew and the friends moved to a table for him to eat. Morgan ordered another beer for each of them.
“So, tell me how you came to be in Golden, Morgan.” Davis sipped his beer.
“Came with my wife. We’re scouting around the various towns looking for where we want to settle.” Morgan began eating.
“You’re married, huh?”
“Yeah, recently. She’s not feeling well, so I left her sleeping to come and get some grub.”
“Hope you like Golden. It’d be good to have an old army buddy around.”
They continued talking while Morgan ate. He asked a lot of questions about Golden, feigning interest in moving there. When he’d finished, Morgan paid for his meal, and his and Davis’ drinks. “I’m going to check on my wife. It was good to see you. Maybe we’ll decide to move here. I’ll count on you to help me get a job if we do.”
When Morgan opened the door to their room the cot was empty, giving him a start. Then a groan came from behind the dressing screen where the chamber pot was located. He continued into the room and set the plate with the food he’d brought her on the table between the beds.
Another moan sounded, and he decided he’d better let her know he was back, though surely she’d heard him come in. “Rilla? You okay? I’m back. I’ve brought you some food.”
“I heard. I’ll be out in a moment.”
He sat on his bed and waited. He was shocked at her appearance, torn two ways. Rilla was bent over slightly, moving stiffly, obviously aching in what looked like every part of her body. That brought out his sympathy. That she was only wearing her chemise and drawers brought out other, more basic urges.
“Let me help you.” Morgan stood and went to her.
“Don’t touch me.” Rilla twisted when he would have taken her arm. “You may technically be my husband, but it doesn’t give you the right to manhandle me.”
Morgan pulled his hands back. “Sorry, I was only wanting to help.” Something in her tone reminded him of something but he couldn’t remember what. He set the thought aside and followed as she passed him, going to sit on her bed with a groan.
Rilla picked up the plate and began eating. “Thank you. I didn’t expect you to bring me anything.”
Morgan watched her as she ate. They weren’t leaving Golden tomorrow. She was going to need at least a day to get over her stiffness.
~~~~~
Rilla was still sore in the morning, but moved to get up, knowing she’d be better if she moved. She was glad they were spending the day in Golden. She didn’t think she’d be able to get on a horse even with a boost from Morgan.
After she’d eaten the food he’d brought her last night, Rilla had crawled back into bed and gone back to sleep. She didn’t remember if she’d thanked him for her meal. She’d make sure she did when— he got back? Morgan wasn’t in the bed or even the room. Had he left her here in Golden?
Rilla stood, too quickly, and groaned. Everything hurt. Absolutely everything. But where was he? Looking around the room, she relaxed seeing his saddlebags on the floor by the door. He wouldn’t leave without them.
For the next few minutes, Rilla stretched and twisted, biting her lips to keep from groaning, loosening up. When she was able to move, she washed in the bowl and slowly gathered her clothing and began to dress. She wasn’t going to be caught in her underclothes. It was slow going, but she was able to dress. That gave her hope that she’d get over the aches. Then, she remembered they’d be riding again soon and blew out a breath, popping her lips.
A rattle of a key in the door indicated Morgan was returning.
“Good morning,” she said as he entered.
He gave her a studied look. “How are you?” he asked.
“Stiff and sore.”
“I’ll bet. I just came from checking on the horses and letting the livery know we’d be here another night.”
Rilla nearly sat down in relief. She hadn’t wanted to travel but wouldn’t have protested if he’d said they were leaving.
“Let’s go get some breakfast. There’s a café not far from the hotel. The walk will help with the stiffness.” Morgan took her mantle from the coat stand and helped her into it.
The day was crisp but sunny. The wind had the freshness of spring. The walk did help, and Rilla was feeling better by the time they entered the café. It wasn’t long before they were served.
“We’ll work on that puzzle when we get back. Until it’s done, we can’t head out,” Morgan said.
Rilla realized he was talking about the clue they hadn’t figured out. “I’ve got a pad and pencil in my carpetbag. I know I won’t be able to solve it without writing it down,” she answered as cryptically as he had.
“You finished?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s get to it. We can walk back a different way. It’ll give you more exercise.” Morgan paid and they left. Rilla didn’t want to admit it, but his hand on the small of her back made her feel ladylike and protected. It wasn’t something she’d felt often in her life.
When they arrived back in their room, she got the pad and pencil out. Morgan brought a map out of his saddlebag.
“I wish there was a table in here we could sit at,” Morgan said. “The only place, other than the beds to sit on is the dressing stool behind the screen.”
“We can use the table between the beds.” Rilla made the beds, maid service not one of the amenities of the hotel. “The walk did help.”
They each sat on their beds and laid the map out on the table. Morgan had his own tablet, so they wrote out the coded message and began attempting to decode it.
Viseuod Rowk
“We figured out yesterday the second word is ‘work,’ but what’s the first?” Rilla bit the end of her pencil and began rearranging the letters. It soon became clear the word didn’t end in ‘ed’ and said so.
“You’re right. I can’t think of any words the other letters spell.”
They worked in silence, each trying out various combinations of the letters.
“I hate this sort of thing,” Rilla said. “I can’t ever figure it out.” She tossed her pad and pencil down.
“Devious,” Morgan said. “The word is ‘devious.’”
Rilla picked up her writing tools and wrote out the word. “You’re right. ‘Devious work.’ So what does that mean? Is there a town called devious work?”
They searched the map. The towns marked were along the rivers, creeks, and in the mountains where gold and silver mines were located.
Rilla pointed. “Look, FairPlay. That’s the opposite of devious work.”
“Very good.” Morgan sat back and smiled at her. Rilla shoved the warmth his praise gave her away. “We’ll head there. Do you think you’ll be able to ride tomorrow? We’ll take it slow. It’s a fair distance. It’ll take us several days to get there.”
“We can’t wait around here. H
ow far do you think it is?”
Rilla watched as Morgan studied the map, using the scale to estimate the distance.
“It’ll be around eighty miles. It won’t be an easy trip. There’s a couple of towns along the way. We’ll be in the mountains, so we’ll have to camp. I doubt we’ll find many towns. There may be some that aren’t on the map. Tomorrow, we’ll only go to Mt. Vernon.” He pointed to both towns, tracing the route they’d take. “It’s about the same distance we came yesterday. That way it won’t be too hard on you. If we have to stay there an extra day, we will.”
Rilla was gratified by his thoughtfulness. But it didn’t mean she was attracted to him or wanted them to stay married.
CHAPTER FOUR
RILLA DROPPED THE carpetbags and flopped down on the bed. Morgan was tending the horses. She was so tired. They’d been traveling for what seemed like forever. Six torturous days on a horse. Yes, they’d spent the first two nights in hotels. Then the camping started. Finally, they were in a town, Hamilton. It was small. More of a wide spot in the trail. This boarding house, a saloon, dry goods store, and not much else.
Rilla hated camping. She hadn’t realized how much until the past few days. As she was growing up in the theater troupe, they’d traveled from town to town and sometimes had to camp out as they moved. Those nights were not the pleasantest, but they’d had wagons to sleep in. They hadn’t had to sleep on the ground. Out in the open. In the cold and damp air. Animals growling and snarling.
At least she wasn’t stiff and sore from riding now. Well, her bottom was sore from hours and hours in the saddle, but she could move and do what needed to be done when they stopped. If she never saw a horse again, it wouldn’t bother her. But, at least she hadn’t complained to Morgan.
Rilla had decided before they left Denver that she wouldn’t complain. If she wanted to be a Pinkerton Agent she had to be tough. Take whatever the case doled out. She just hadn’t realized it would be so hard on her body.
An Agent for Rilla (The Pinkerton Matchmaker Book 32) Page 2