Morgan had made the trip as easy as he could for her. He was very thoughtful in that way. He did all the tough jobs. She did everything she could, and sometimes had to argue with him about her ability to do a task. Sometimes she won, sometimes him.
Rilla really hated the rain. It had rained the last two days, soaking them. Water sluiced down the mountainside making the trail slippery. It had also snowed. They were in the mountains after all, and it was spring. Waking up covered in a layer of snow wasn’t her preferred method of beginning her day. Both the rain and snow had slowed their journey down. They weren’t even to FairPlay yet. Morgan said they’d get there tomorrow.
Rilla hoped the town was big enough to have a bathhouse. She’d saved most of the money she’d made traveling with the troupe, once she was old enough to get paid, and thought she could splurge on a real tub bath. They were expensive, often half a dollar. She didn’t care. She just wanted to be warm. And clean.
Morgan entered and stood at the end of the bed looking at her. “You tired?” There was a wry grin on his face.
“Just a bit.” She rose, leaning back on her elbows. “You do know there is only one bed in this room.”
“I can see that.” His grin got wider.
“Since you’re more experienced at sleeping on the ground than me, you can have the floor.”
“Don’t think so, Mrs. Weston. If you don’t want me sleeping close to you, the floor’s there for you.” Morgan pointed down.
Rilla was too tired to fight with him. They’d been alone for days along the trail. If he’d been inclined to take advantage of her, he would have done so by now. Maybe he wasn’t attracted to her.
Where had that thought come from? She didn’t want him attracted to her. She was only married to him for the duration of their journey. She wasn’t going to let him do anything that might compromise their ability to get an annulment. Then she’d probably not ever see him again. Rilla drew her eyebrows together. Why did that thought make her stomach tighten? She didn’t want to be under a man’s control again.
She leapt from the bed. “Did you find a café, or do I need to build a fire and cook for us again?”
“The saloon has food. We can eat there.” Morgan looked her up and down. “Don’t look at any of the men. They might think you are interested in them. Not many women around.”
“You think I should disguise myself as a boy?”
“They saw us ride in. A man and a woman. Can’t change that now. We’ll have to think about that some. The places we might end up in, it might be better for you to be a boy.” Morgan rubbed his face. “Let’s go get some grub. Nothing to do about it now.”
~~~~~
Morgan woke feeling trapped. It took him a moment to figure out where he was. He was in a bed, not on the ground, not clinging to a tree in the Mississippi River. And he was warm. Breathing out a sigh of relief, he reassessed. He grinned though he was still trapped. An arm was wrapped around his stomach, pressing him back against a soft warm body. Seems Rilla couldn’t abide by her own rules.
“You’ll stay on your side. You even stick a little finger on my side, I’ll make you pay, and you won’t like it.” She’d stood toe to toe with him, only coming up to his chin. Morgan knew she hadn’t a clue what she’d do to punish him. She would have outlined it, in detail, if she did. If she hadn’t been too tired to think up a good threat he was sure she would have.
Morgan hated that the journey was taking such a toll on her. What was Archie thinking, sending a fragile woman on such an arduous trip? He knew she’d lost weight in the past days. He’d have to make her eat more. The last thing he needed was for her to get sick on the trail. The rain hadn’t helped. They’d had to eat beans from air tights and soggy biscuits filled with cold bacon for several meals. That didn’t fill him up at all, and it wouldn’t have satisfied Rilla either.
Morgan hated the thought of going slower and staying in towns more often. It put Rilla at risk. These small, remote towns had unsavory characters who didn’t care about anyone but themselves. Even with him, she could be in danger. If a gang wanted her, there would be little he could do to stop them. It was an aspect of the West he didn’t like, the lack of respect for the law and others in general, especially women.
Rilla was a plucky little lady, that was for sure. She’d done more than she should as they travelled. She didn’t talk much about herself. Just that she’d played roles in the plays the troupe performed since she was small when he’d ask about her. Then she’d change the subject. Seems she didn’t want to share her life experiences. That was fine with him. He didn’t want to share his either. In a few weeks, they’d part ways anyway.
The thought of not seeing her again gave him pause. Why did it make him sad? She was beautiful. Rich brown hair that flowed around her shoulders as she brushed it. Green eyes that sparkled with life when she saw something beautiful or was teasing him ruthlessly. Morgan frowned. Those eyes would dull, and a flash of fear was there and gone when the theater troupe was mentioned. He was sure she thought he never saw that, but he did.
Was there more of a reason why she left the troupe than just wanting to try her hand at being a Pinkerton Agent?
The body behind him jerked, making him grin. Seems his wife had woken up. Her arm slid off him and that warm softness left his back. Seems it was time to get going for the day. They’d reach FairPlay sooner if they left shortly.
~~~~~
Rilla couldn’t believe she’d plastered herself against Morgan’s back while they were sleeping. Well, he was warm. That’s what it was. She was only seeking warmth. At least she wasn’t cold to the bone anymore.
Since there wasn’t a dressing screen in the small room, Rilla had faced the other way when Morgan had gotten out of bed and pulled his clothes on over his long johns. He’d left saying he was going to get the horses saddled and the donkey loaded. He’d taken his saddlebags but left her carpetbags. Now it was her turn to get dressed.
Rilla dug clean stockings out of her bag. She’d worn the same ones for the last week whether they were damp or not. Maybe in FairPlay she could wash some things. Wash some of Morgan’s too, though the thought embarrassed her. It was such a wifely thing to do. But, she would. Morgan had done as much as he could to make the trip easier for her. The least she could do to thank him was some laundry.
As she tied her petticoats on, Rilla thought about how handsome Morgan was. Lean but muscular, strong. He could lift her into the saddle, and had several times. She didn’t want to think about how good his hands on her waist felt. That each time he did, Morgan looked at her with those eyes the color of maple syrup making her mouth water. Though usually covered with his Stetson, his blond hair had an ’S’ wave across his forehead. Her finger tingled, wanting to be placed in the shallow cleft in the chin of his square jaw. He might not be the absolute best looking man she’d ever seen, but he was close.
It still didn’t mean she wanted to be tied to him forever.
~~~~~
The only place to stay in FairPlay was a boarding house. Rilla had spied a barber and bathhouse and pestered him until he promised to take her for a bath. He’d have to stay in the hallway to allow her admittance, Morgan was sure. Also for her protection. She’d promised to wash his socks and whatever else he chose in exchange for his time. Maybe once she was done in the bathtub, he’d take a dip and clean the grime of the past week off his body.
He wasn’t sure why they had come to FairPlay. The clue had only directed them there. Rilla and he had discussed it at length over the days of travel. Maybe it was just that Owens wanted to make whoever was going to track the gold go to various places just to frustrate them. Maybe there were clues here that they needed to find. Maybe the entire thing was a wild goose chase and they wouldn’t find any gold once they solved all the clues.
They’d only just started the list of clues. Golden to FairPlay. There were many other clues to decrypt. He didn’t know how many as the next clue would take them to get a message fro
m Mr. Adam Madison in President City. At this point Morgan figured the trip to FairPlay was simply a red herring.
Morgan walked from the livery to the boardinghouse, ready to take Rilla for her bath. He didn’t quite understand why she was so insistent on bathing, but he’d indulge her. She promised to pay for it herself. Morgan just hoped she wasn’t carrying a lot of cash in those carpetbags. As a couple traveling alone through the mountains they were vulnerable to bandits as it was. If it was known she had excess funds it put them in an even more precarious position.
Maybe he should have her dress as a boy. She’d look like a young teen then. It wasn’t that unusual for a man and teen to travel together.
When Morgan entered their room, there were stockings and other unmentionables hanging from lines strung between hooks on the walls. Seems his wife had been busy while he was gone. “How’d you get these done so quickly?”
Rilla finished straightening some ribbon trimmed drawers and turned to him. “Mrs. Whittaker was doing laundry behind the house and let me use her water. If you have anything else to wash, I can do it now. She’s going to be done soon and will empty the washtubs.”
“I’m good. You seem to have washed what I needed done.” Morgan didn’t tell her he’d worn clothes much dirtier when he was in the army, as well as after the war. He just appreciated her doing it, and even offering to do more.
“I’ve got the horses settled. Are you ready to get your bath?”
The smile Rilla gave him was so brilliant it lit up her face and made his chest tighten. She was so beautiful, and his wife. Morgan mentally shook away the feeling. She was only his partner until they found the gold.
Rilla dug through her carpetbags and soon had what she wanted to take with her. She held out her hand. “Here.” There were two quarters that she gave him. “You pay. Don’t want to embarrass you by paying for my bath myself.”
Soon Morgan was sitting in the barber chair getting a shave while Rilla began her bath in the first room down the hall from the shop. He could keep an eye on the door to make sure she wasn’t disturbed.
“Not very often we get a woman wanting a bath in here,” the barber said as he sharpened his razor on the strop.
“I suppose not. We got caught in the rain as we came through the mountains. She’s been cold ever since. Wanted to get warm and clean at the same time.”
“You planning on moving on or staying in town? There’s jobs to be found.”
“Just passing through. We’re looking around the territory to see where we want to settle. Sort of a honeymoon trip.”
The barber smiled. “Newlyweds. I’ll have to tell my wife. She’s a real romantic. Will love the story.”
~~~~~
Morgan stood along the railing at the front of the steamship Sultana. They had left Memphis earlier in the evening. Morgan was finally going home. The years in the war and then months in the prison camp had taken a toll on him. He was exhausted, cold, hungry, and wished he’d never agreed to board the boat. It was grossly overloaded. Men stood everywhere. There was no place to sit, let alone lie down.
The night was dark when they stopped to take on coal for the boilers. Morgan took the opportunity to move further back on the boat as some men disembarked to stretch their legs on the shore. He found a place along the rail near the gangplank. Once the coal and men were back on board, the paddle wheeler started chugging up river again. Morgan and the other released prisoners of war were heading north.
The explosion ripped through the front of the boat, taking out the pilot house. Morgan was thrown over the railing and into the frigid flood waters of the Mississippi River.
“Morgan, wake up. Wake up, you’re having a nightmare. It’s just thunder.” Rilla’s voice pulled him from the memories. She was leaning against him, her hands gently patting his face.
Morgan put his arm around her, holding her warm body close. He was so cold, just as he had been those long hours. He was trembling. He didn’t know if it was because he was truly cold or simply from the fear of reliving that terrible night.
“It’s okay. You’re here with me. We’re in FairPlay, in the boardinghouse.” Rilla kept murmuring to him until his tremors ceased.
“I’m fine, Rilla,” Morgan began as a flash of lightning followed immediately by the clap of thunder made him jerk. Ever since that night, thunder had affected him in ways it never had before.
“Do you want to talk about your nightmare?” She eased away from him, moving farther from him on the bed.
“No, just bad memories.”
“Of the war? Does the thunder remind you of the cannons?”
Morgan thought about it. Maybe the thunder of coming storms did remind him, but only the distant rumbles. When the lightning struck nearby an entirely different set of memories took over.
“Yeah, that’s what it is. Bad memories. Ones I’d rather forget.”
“I can understand that.” Rilla was now lying on her back, not touching him. He wished she was still against him. He could use her warmth and comfort. They lay there next to each other in silence, listening to the storm as it moved on east. Rilla finally broke the silence. “Storm’s pretty much over. You think you can sleep again?”
“Yeah. Thanks for waking me. Go back to sleep. We won’t be leaving town in the morning. It’ll be too wet on the roads. All mud. It’ll strain the horses too much. Streams will be too flooded to cross.”
“Okay.”
Morgan listened as Rilla’s breathing indicated her drifting off. He didn’t think he’d sleep again that night. He normally didn’t when he’d had one of those nightmares. Morgan rolled onto his side so he could look at Rilla, though the room was too dark to see her. No one had ever comforted him from the dream before. Maybe he would be able to sleep after all. At least he wasn’t alone in his memories of the past.
~~~~~
Rilla watched Morgan as he pushed the food around on his plate. She knew, could just tell, that he was still affected by the nightmare. If he’d talk about it, maybe it would help. When he’d begun thrashing, his movements knocked into her, waking her up. When that first lightning strike so close with its resounding clap of thunder had made him jerk and scream, Rilla had done what she could to comfort him. Now she thought he should talk about it, but she wasn’t a close friend or family member he might confide in. She was just his temporary wife.
Rather than bring up the matter, Rilla sipped her coffee. “You haven’t eaten much of that. Not hungry?”
Morgan’s eyes shot to hers. He looked scared that she would question him. That solidified her decision not to mention what had happened in the night. “Not really.”
“Then let’s go.” Rilla placed her napkin next to her plate and stood. “I’ll go with you to check on the horses.”
“You don’t need to. The streets are muddy. You go back up to the room. I’ll be back shortly and we’ll go over our plans for tomorrow.”
Morgan left her in the boarding house entry. Rilla watched him walk toward the livery, his boots sucking in the mud. Something inside her was wanting him to confide in her. That he wouldn’t left her sort of empty.
CHAPTER FIVE
“TOMORROW, WE’LL HEAD up to Lincoln City.”
Rilla watched as Morgan tucked his boots under the bed. “Why Lincoln City?”
The day had been sunny with a strong spring wind. The streets were drying and they’d leave FairPlay in the morning.
“That’s where the clue indicates we should go. ‘President City message to Mr. Adam Madison.’ Lincoln City.”
“I was thinking Jefferson,” Rilla said softly. She was pretty sure the town indicated in the clue was Jefferson.
“President Lincoln is the most famous president. He was who got us through the War of the Rebellion. That has to be who the clue means. I can’t see why you would think it’s Jefferson.” Morgan stared at her, irritation in his eyes and tone.
Rilla backed down. Men tended to get angry when crossed. Then they got violent.
“Okay.” She turned away and climbed beneath the covers.
She’d gotten used to sleeping beside him, though she still didn’t like it. It made her feel vulnerable. But, she liked sleeping next to him better than she liked sleeping on the ground, out in the open. She would have thought they’d pack a tent for them, or at least her, but no. She had to sleep with the dew or rain or snow falling down on her.
~~~~~
Morgan rode behind Rilla and watched her struggle with the sidesaddle. She was riding better, but still had difficulty mounting Biddy, getting her legs around the top and lower pommels. He also saw her grip the cantle behind the seat as they travelled, seeming to be afraid she was going to fall off the horse. She did this more when they rode over the rough trails rather than the smoother ground.
Thinking about the small towns they might go through, Morgan wondered again if having her dress as a boy would be better. They could get a regular saddle. Maybe she’d feel more comfortable riding astride.
The terrain leveled out some and he moved to ride beside her. “There’s a stream over there. How about we stop and water the horses? We can eat a bite too.”
Rilla turned Biddy toward the stream. When the horse picked up her speed to get to the water, Rilla grasped the cantle again. That decided things for Morgan. They were going to talk about her willingness to ride astride.
They led the horses to the stream and let them drink their fill then staked them in the grass nearby. Rilla walked around some, stretching her legs.
“Here.” Morgan held out a biscuit and bacon sandwich they’d gotten from the boarding house. “I’ve got some jerky too and some dried fruit.”
“Thanks, but I don’t need all that. This will be fine.” Rilla took the biscuit and sat down on a rock to eat it. Morgan sat on one nearby.
“What do you say we put those disguises to work? You could dress like a youth and we could get you a regular saddle.”
An Agent for Rilla (The Pinkerton Matchmaker Book 32) Page 3