An Agent for Rilla (The Pinkerton Matchmaker Book 32)

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An Agent for Rilla (The Pinkerton Matchmaker Book 32) Page 11

by Sophie Dawson


  “Yep.” Rilla wiped her mouth on the back of her sleeve as there were no napkins available.

  With pairs of eyes watching from every part of the saloon, Morgan dropped coins on the table to pay for their meal and they walked out.

  “We’ll have company tomorrow as we ride,” Morgan said after he closed their hotel room door. “We can lead them on a merry time.”

  “You think we should?” Rilla asked as she took up her sewing. She’d decided to make a money belt for herself. It would help her disguise as an old lady by creating a thicker waist. It would also keep more gold coins from potential thieves.

  “We told them we were enjoying the nature. We can either take them up Grape Creek or go on up the Arkansas River and see this gorge everyone talks about.”

  “I suppose. It makes me wonder about leaving town by horse. Will they follow us when we leave?”

  Morgan flopped down on the bed. “Probably. We’ll need to be extra careful when we do. Need to keep an eye out for followers. I don’t want to have to fight anyone, but I will. I plan to keep you safe and get that gold back to Denver.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  ~~~~~

  They passed where Grape Creek entered the Arkansas River, fording it just a short ways upstream. As they progressed, the river valley narrowed until the walls of the canyon narrowed, making any further travel along the shore impossible. When they turned around, two riders were approaching.

  “Well, what do you know? We have some company for the ride back to town.” Sarcasm colored Morgan’s words.

  Rilla pulled her hat a little lower on her forehead. Now was not the time for her disguise to fail.

  When the two groups met, Red Beard said, “Fancy meeting you here. Heading back to town so early?”

  “Can’t seem to go any farther,” Morgan said with a wave to where they’d just come from.

  “Well, we’ll just ride with you, if you don’t mind.” Red Beard turned his horse around with Scruffy doing the same.

  “Can’t stop you. Trail’s for anyone.” Morgan kicked Condor to a canter. Rilla did the same.

  “I’d think a strong man like you and your boy would ride out all day.” Red Beard was fishing for information.

  “Boy’s been ill. Still recovering. Sickness took his ma. We don’t want him to relapse, so we ride some and rest some. The sun can wear him out too.”

  Rilla made sure Biddy was on the side of Condor away from Red Beard and Scruffy. She didn’t want them to be able to scrutinize her too closely.

  “Don’t he talk?” Scruffy asked.

  “He talks. He’s just quiet. You heard him talk last night.”

  “One word.”

  “One word’s talking.”

  With Morgan not willing to make conversation the ride back to town was a silent one. Once they settled the horses at the livery, they ate lunch at the café, then went back to the hotel.

  “We leave tomorrow,” Morgan declared. “Those two are taking far too much interest in us.”

  “I’ll have all the sewing done by tonight. We can get an early start. Maybe they will still be sleeping when we leave town.” Rilla kicked her boots off and rubbed her feet. She wished they’d have a chance to visit the hot springs again, but knew they couldn’t risk the delay.

  Before they went to bed, Morgan was digging into his carpetbag. He rarely opened it and what he usually got out was near the top. This time he pulled a metal wedge from the bag. It was bronze with open scrollwork on the sides.

  “What’s that?” Rilla asked.

  “It’s a burglar alarm. I’ll put it under the door tonight. See this spike.” He lifted a rod so it was vertical. “If someone opens the door, the spike will fall and set off the bell inside. It rings very loudly.” The way he said “loudly” made Rilla believe it.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THEY’D PACKED AS much as they could so they would be ready for their early departure the next morning. Morgan lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Worry for the next few days kept him from sleeping.

  Once they boarded the train, the threat would minimize. At that point, the main threat would be a random attempt to rob the train. Morgan knew he could handle that situation. It was on the trail before that was dangerous. Those two men following them this morning, worried him. There were other men in the saloon who had heard the conversation also.

  Rilla slept peacefully at his side. Morgan smiled at her slight snoring. He’d mentioned it to her early on their journey. She hadn’t taken the news well. She’d huffed, turned her back, and declared that there was no way she snored. It must have been him hearing himself snore. Every time he heard the soft swishing of her breath, Morgan smiled at the memory.

  The thought that he wouldn’t be making more memories with her once they were back in Denver took the smile from his face. He didn’t want an annulment. He wanted her as his wife, in all ways, for as long as they lived. He wanted children with her. He wanted to build a life together. But she didn’t want him. Not him specifically, she didn’t want to be tied to any man.

  Morgan understood her reticence. She’d been raised by a controlling father who wanted her to marry a man who would control her. At least until he ended up in prison, which Leroy Bastion was headed to at this moment.

  During the course of their travels, Morgan had tried to demonstrate that he was different from the men she’d grown up around. He’d made some mistakes, but he hoped he’d made up for them as he purposely treated her with respect. She’d earned that respect. Rilla was smart, talented, knew how to read people. She stayed in her character of Riley so well no one took her for anything but a teenage boy.

  She’d be changing her disguise in a day or two. Remembering the day in Denver when Rilla had been the newsboy and old lady, Morgan stifled a laugh. She’d threatened him with that cane so well, he’d been totally fooled. She’d even used an accent. That thought brought him back to the fact that he would be wearing a disguise too. It killed all his amusement.

  Morgan wasn’t looking forward to being made up to appear as an old man. He hoped she didn’t want him to be old and decrepit. He still needed to be able to move and aid her on and off the train. While they were on it also. Moving trains could knock people off their feet with jerking. He’d be sure to have them be moderately older, not ancient.

  A noise at the door had Morgan lifting his head to look and at the same time, reach for his Colt. The sound of a key turning, made him slip out of bed. When the door opened and the bell began ringing, he moved forward, tackling the man trying to enter.

  ~~~~~

  Rilla gave a little scream and grabbed her own Colt. She didn’t get out of bed, but held her gun in two hands with a steady aim. Other doors opened along the hall. Men poured out of their rooms with guns drawn and ready to stop whoever woke them up.

  Rilla was shaking on the inside, hoping it wasn’t evident on the outside. Morgan had been right that someone might try to get into their room.

  With the commotion in the hallway keeping everyone’s focus, Rilla crept from the bed and moved behind the door. Ever so slowly she pushed it partway closed. It blocked anyone’s vision of the room and gave her the opportunity to watch through the crack between the hinged side and the doorframe.

  Several men were holding Red Beard and Scruffy. She’d guessed that’s who would be trying to break into their room. Morgan was talking and gesturing. With so many men talking and moving, Rilla couldn’t hear what he was saying even though he wasn’t that far away. When he started toward their doorway, Rilla backed up so she wouldn’t be struck with the door when he opened it.

  She did hear the words he threw over his shoulder at the men holding Red Beard and Scruffy. “I’ll get dressed and we can take them to the jail.”

  ~~~~~

  Morgan stopped mid-step when he pushed the door open and Rilla was not in the bed. His heart froze in his chest. Where was she? He shut the door behind him, surveying the room. His heart beg
an beating again when he saw her standing in the corner behind the door. Just as he began to take a step toward her, Rilla was wrapped around him, her face buried against his chest.

  “It’s all right. Everything is fine. We caught them. We’re taking them to jail. We won’t have to worry about them following us in the morning.” Morgan stroked her back. She was trembling.

  “That bell woke me from a deep sleep. It startled me so. Then you were tackling that man. I couldn’t come out and be seen as a woman. All I could do was watch through the crack of the door,” Rilla said into his chest.

  Something was digging into his back. He tried to ignore it but then he realized what it was. The butt of Rilla’s Colt. Not something he wanted when he didn’t know where the muzzle was pointing. Morgan eased her back so her arms released him. “I’m fine. You are. Those two are going to jail just as soon as I put clothes over my long johns. We’ll talk when I get back.” He took the gun from her hand and set it next to the bed on a small table. “You shouldn’t need this, but it’s here if you do.”

  Leading her to the bed, Morgan tucked her in. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. It may be an hour or more. Try to sleep. We have a long trip in front of us.”

  Rilla lay back on her pillow, looking at him with wide eyes. Morgan couldn’t resist. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, wishing he was confident enough to claim her lips. There wasn’t time now to do more. To indicate his feelings for her. He’d have to see how she reacted to the kiss he’d just given her.

  Turning away, Morgan quickly dressed and left the room, locking the door and taking the key with him.

  ~~~~~

  “Let’s get these men to the jail.” Morgan indicated Red Beard and Scruffy. “I want to get some sleep tonight.” He grabbed Red Beard and let another man, who’d offered to go with him to the jail, take Scruffy. “How’d they get up to this floor? Where’s the night clerk?”

  “He was found knocked out behind the desk. Seems they took a fist or two to his jaw. What do they want from you?”

  “Don’t know. They’ve taken an interest in my and Riley’s comings and goings from town. Seem to the think we were collecting something they’d be interested in.”

  “I saw that last night at the saloon.”

  As they crossed the lobby, several men were helping the night clerk up from the floor. He seemed a little woozy, but was able to shoot a death stare at their prisoners.

  “I’ll be over later and bring you up on charges. You won’t get out of this one, Red.”

  Morgan almost chuckled. Seems the man’s name really was Red.

  Once the men were in jail and Morgan and the sheriff were alone in his office, Morgan sat forward in his chair. “There’s more to this than it looks on the surface.” He pulled his Pinkerton Agency badge from the pocket of his duster. “Normally, I’d have let you know I was in town on a case. This time, I felt it was more important that we not draw attention to ourselves.”

  “We?”

  “My partner and I. Let me fill you in.” Morgan explained about tracking the stolen gold, debating on whether to reveal Rilla’s gender. He decided the sheriff didn’t need to know. “My partner is posing as my son who just lost his mother and has been ill. We’re here for him to recover and for us to get over our grief. Riley’s back at the hotel.

  “I felt us coming straight to the jail when we got to town would be noted. Cañon City isn’t big enough for that to go unnoticed.”

  The sheriff let out a breath. “Whoa. So you found the gold?”

  “Yes, and we are leaving for Denver in the morning. With these two in jail now, at least they won’t be following us. With the number of men who know about their interest in us and now this attempted break in, I’m concerned we’ll be followed by others who now think we do have something of value they might want.”

  “I can understand that.” He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling in thought. “If I escort you from town, it will just throw fuel on the fire. But I can watch and follow anyone who leaves shortly after.”

  “I’d appreciate that,” Morgan said.

  “You riding all the way to Denver?”

  “No, we plan to take the train from Pueblo.”

  “Mind if I make a suggestion?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Catch the train outside Labran. There’s no depot, they’ll take on water there. It’s about 10 miles from here. Train should get there about 11:00. Don’t know the exact time. They’ll stop for water and you can board then.”

  Morgan nodded. That sounded good to him. They’d leave early enough to get to the water tower in enough time to don their disguises. He nearly grimaced at the thought. “We’ll take your advice. We’re leaving shortly after first light. Two horses and a donkey.”

  “I’ll be watching along with the deputy who came and got me from home. I’ll walk you back to the hotel. It’s on my way home.”

  Morgan stood and placed his Stetson on his head. “Mighty obliged to you, sheriff.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  THEY RODE OUT of Cañon City as the sun broke through the trees lining the Arkansas River. The air was crisp, swirling around the horses’ heads as they exhaled. They passed the jail and saw horses tethered to the rail in front and two men standing under the awning. Morgan nodded to them as they went by.

  When he’d gotten back to the hotel, Rilla was still awake. He’d told her everything that happened and the plans for the morning. Then he told her to go to sleep. They’d be up early.

  Rilla had lain in the dark until she knew Morgan was asleep. Then she’d scooted closer to his warmth and security. He’d rolled on his side and slid an arm around her waist, pulling her against him. Only then was she able to drift off to sleep.

  Now, they were riding toward the place they would change, she into an older woman and Morgan into an old man. She’d planned how she was going to make him look while she waited for him to get back from the jail last night. She was also going to do a bit of teasing as she did so. Maybe a little more than a bit.

  They hadn’t seen any sign of them being followed, but Morgan kept looking back. His tension was making her nervous.

  The water tower came into sight and they stopped near it. Morgan allowed the horses to drink from a trough and began taking the saddles and blankets off. Then he unloaded Jack. The bags of gold were in Rilla’s carpetbags. She gathered her clothing and supplies and went behind a clump of bushes to change.

  Morgan’s mouth dropped open when she emerged. Gone was Riley and in his place stood the old woman who’d just about clubbed him with her cane in Denver. There didn’t seem to be any of Rilla in her.

  A gray wig covered her hair, held on by a large wool headscarf. Her face was wrinkled, her eyes nearly hidden by folds of skin. Rather than the straight, slim shape he was used to, she was slouched with a thick middle. He knew she was wearing the money belt and petticoat carrying gold coins but couldn’t tell there was anything unusual under her clothing.

  “Your turn. Here’s a sweater vest to wear. Old men like to stay warm.”

  “Are you able to move around well with all those coins around you?” Morgan ignored her comment and the vest.

  “As well as an old woman can. I’m a bit stiff, just as I should be for my age.” She grinned. “I’m stronger than I look. Feels like I have the body of a nearly twenty-year-old.”

  Morgan chuckled. “You’ve held up well during your many years.”

  “Your turn. We need you to match me in age. Come on, put on the vest. At least I’m letting you keep the duster, even though I think a suit coat would fit the character better.”

  Morgan scowled as he pulled the vest over his head.

  “Sit there.” Rilla pointed to a wide rock. Various pots, brushes, and pencils along with some sort of putty were arranged next to where he sat down.

  Rilla stepped back and looked at his face. “You’re going to need a lot of wrinkles to change that baby face of yours. We’ll start with
that.” She brushed some sort of gooey liquid over the skin of his face and neck. As it dried he could feel his skin contract. “That’s better. You look older already. At least 25.”

  Morgan huffed and Rilla laughed.

  She molded the putty in her hands and then began sticking it to his face. Bags under his eyes. Deep grooves next to his mouth. Jowls to round out the angles of his jawline. She covered his eyebrows making the brow ridges more pronounced. She even added some to his earlobes, making them hang low.

  Next she picked up a pot with charcoal powder and a brush, adding shadows emphasizing the creases. Then came a bushy gray mustache that nearly covered his lips.

  “How am I supposed to eat with this hanging down?” he groused.

  “Unless you want to powder your lips often, this masks that your lips still have color to them. And they are a very pretty color too.” Rilla focused on attaching the gray goatee on his chin.

  Morgan huffed again. He caught her wrist when she brought what looked like a wooly bear caterpillar toward his eye. “What’s that?”

  This time is was Rilla who huffed. “You want eyebrows?”

  “You covered mine up with that goop.” Morgan sounded like a pouting child.

  “Quit complaining. If we don’t have to wait too long for the train in Pueblo, we should be in Denver by tomorrow morning. Wearing these disguises should let us look innocent and uninteresting.”

  Morgan huffed and let go of her wrist. He sat quietly while she finished. She handed him his Stetson and began gathering her supplies, packing them in a carpetbag. In her handbag, she kept the things she’d need to do any repair work to their faces.

  In the distance they could hear the sound of a train coming. Morgan stood, then slumped when Rilla admonished him to stand like an old man.

  She looked him up and down. “You’ll do.”

  ~~~~~

  Rilla settled onto her seat. Morgan was getting the horses loaded into the cattle car at the back of the train. Most of their baggage, saddles, etc. would be placed in the baggage car. Morgan would bring the two carpetbags with the most gold in them when he came to sit with her.

 

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