by Jillian Hart
He towered over Hiram. His expression was grim, his jaw set as he spoke.
Anger flew through Brynn. Was that the way a gentleman was received here in Harmony? She wanted to march over there and give that uncouth heathen a piece of her mind.
But she didn’t dare. How would it look if the mayor’s wife arrived to find her in the midst of an argument in a public place, with a total stranger?
Heat rushed across Brynn’s cheeks. The last thing she wanted was to be the subject of gossip—again.
Determinedly, she turned away. The crowd had thinned a bit.
She wished the mayor’s wife would hurry up and get there. If the train hadn’t arrived early, she would be safely ensconced in her hotel room by now.
The crowd that had gathered at the edge of the platform parted quickly and a man strode up the stairs from the street. Tall, he wore the same rugged clothing as most of the men she’d seen in Texas. Sunlight flashed against a badge pinned to his chest. She gasped, realizing he was the town sheriff.
He joined the circle of men confronting Hiram.
Another wave of anger surged through Brynn. What had that awful man from the train started? Why had he accosted Hiram, drawing the attention of the train conductor and now the presence of the sheriff? He was a troublemaker, all right, just as she’d thought.
While she watched, words were exchanged, heated at times.
Brynn wished she could hear what they were saying. Hiram shook his head repeatedly. Finally, the whole lot of them disappeared into the train station.
Brynn realized then that she and a half-dozen other people were all that remained on the platform. A cold fear gripped her.
Where was the mayor’s wife? Wasn’t she coming?
Then another fear claimed Brynn. Had she read her aunt’s speaking schedule incorrectly? Had she gotten off at the wrong town? Was there a mayor’s wife standing at a platform several stops back up the line, waiting for her? Had she inadvertently embarrassed Aunt Sadie?
Humiliation roiled through Brynn. No, no, no, I couldn’t have made a mistake.
Quickly, she dug into her handbag and found the schedule, then heaved a sigh of relief. She was in the right place, on the right day. Thank goodness, she hadn’t made an error.
Several minutes dragged by. The last people on the platform drifted away, and still no sign of the mayor’s wife.
Brynn certainly couldn’t stand there all day. Somehow she’d have to gather her belongings and find the hotel.
Things were so much easier with Aunt Sadie along.
Brynn plucked up her courage and approached a porter. He fetched her luggage from the baggage car and loaded it into one of the wagons waiting near the platform.
“Are you Miss Davenport?” the driver asked. He wasn’t much more than a boy, with a shock of blond hair and an easy smile. “My name’s Pete. My ma sent me over from the hotel to fetch you.”
“I’m Miss O’Keefe,” Brynn told him. “Miss Davenport is my aunt. She’s in Hayden, ill.”
Pete assisted her onto the wagon seat. He jumped up beside her, flicked the reins and the team of horses lurched forward.
Brynn relaxed a bit. Everything would be fine, she told herself. Of course, it would. After all, in a town named Harmony, how could there be a problem?
Travis Hollister gazed out the window of the station master’s office. A wagon with Harmony Hotel painted on the side in red letters rumbled away from the platform. Aboard was the young woman who’d sat next to Hiram Smith during the trip from Hayden.
She was safe, thank goodness. He’d worried over her during the entire journey, watched her like a hawk, afraid of what Smith might do. Travis had been forced to give her the gentlest of shoves when he’d left the train to get ahead of her, keep her from following Smith. He wasn’t proud of it, even if it had been for her own good.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Travis,” Sheriff Sutherland said. “I think you’re right about Smith.”
Travis mumbled a curse under his breath. Even though he and Rafe Sutherland had been friends for years and he respected him as an honest, hardworking lawman, his words brought no comfort.
“All I have to do is prove it,” Travis said.
Rafe chuckled. “Shouldn’t be too tough, you being a world-famous Pinkerton detective.”
Travis smiled at his friend’s good-natured ribbing. He’d been an operative for the Pinkerton National Detective Agency for several years now. The agency was the largest—and most prestigious—private police force in the country, probably the world.
Headquarters was in Chicago, but Travis worked out of their Denver office investigating everything from bank robberies, to union uprisings, cattle rustling and theft, for some of the wealthiest clients and biggest businesses in the nation. Now with the booming railroad industry, Travis was assigned to the Texas railway system.
He’d seen Hiram Smith’s likeness on a wanted poster and read his description in the bulletin he’d received from the superintendent of the Denver office. The man was reportedly a thief and con artist suspected of stealing a fortune in jewelry from an elderly couple in Houston.
He’d spotted Smith by chance at the train station in Hayden this morning, so he’d boarded the train, grabbed a seat where he could keep an eye on him and made the trip to Harmony.
But when he’d confronted Smith on the platform, the man had denied any involvement in the theft. He’d emptied his pockets and allowed Travis to search his baggage with the sheriff and the station master as witnesses, but no jewelry was discovered. He didn’t act like a guilty man. Dressed like an Eastern dandy, Smith looked innocent. Still, Travis’s gut told him otherwise.
“I’m not wrong about Smith,” he said. “I’ve seen his kind before, too many times.”
“Then where are the stolen jewels?” Rafe asked.
“Good question,” Travis admitted. “If they weren’t on Smith, then they must have—”
He whirled back toward the window as the Hotel Harmony wagon disappeared down Main Street, a knot of suspicion growing inside him.
Had he looked in the wrong luggage?
He intended to find out.
Chapter Two
Had she said the right thing?
Brynn sank onto the foot of the bed, clutching the strings of her handbag in her fists. Mrs. Millburn, the hotel owner, had met her as Pete pulled the wagon to a stop. Brynn had delivered her carefully prepared greeting and explanation of Aunt Sadie’s absence. The woman had seemed properly concerned about her aunt’s illness and pleased to see her, but Brynn still worried. It was troubling, thinking she might not have made the sort of impression Aunt Sadie would have wanted.
Everything Brynn did and said in Harmony would be a reflection on her aunt and her aunt’s book. How would it look if the niece, traveling companion and substitute lecturer of the author of Planning Perfection was anything less than perfect?
Brynn had learned back home in Richmond what would happen if she didn’t measure up to everyone’s expectations. She couldn’t go through that again.
She drew a breath and wandered to the window. From her room on the second floor, the town of Harmony spread out below her. Wooden storefronts, boardwalks, water troughs, hitching posts. Teams of horses pulled freight wagons and carriages. Men wearing guns strapped to their thighs walked the streets alongside women in bonnets, towing little children in their wake.
Folks stopped to chat. Not much different from the other towns Brynn and her aunt had visited.
Still, it was unnerving being totally alone, not knowing a single soul.
Better to stay busy, Brynn decided. She opened her valise that Pete had placed on the end of the bed and pulled out her clothing.
She frowned, seeing that some of her garments hadn’t fared well on the trip. She’d ask Mrs. Millburn about ironing—
A strange case flew out of her valise along with her petticoats, and landed on the bed.
“What on earth?” she mumbled.
&
nbsp; She’d never seen the small, red velvet case before, and couldn’t imagine where it had come from. She picked it up. It felt heavy, despite its size. She pried open the lid.
Inside was a jumble of jewelry. Rings, necklaces, bracelets.
Several large broaches. Sapphires, rubies, emeralds, diamonds and garnets sparkled in the light.
Brynn gasped and her eyes widened. The pieces were gorgeous, absolutely breathtaking and terribly expensive. How had they ended up among her belongings?
She looked at the valise again. It was definitely hers, as were the clothes inside, and she was certain they didn’t belong to Aunt Sadie. Somehow, there had been a mix-up.
She could clear this up easily enough. Though she wasn’t excited about walking the streets alone, unescorted, she would report this to the stationmaster and let him sort it out.
Brynn tucked the velvet case inside her valise—it hardly seemed a good idea to walk the streets with priceless jewelry tucked into her handbag—then pinned on her hat and headed downstairs. Just as she reached the bottom step, the hotel’s front door flew open and a man filled the space. Bright sunlight beamed in around him, shadowing his face, making him a black hulk in the doorway.
Brynn froze in her tracks. Good gracious, he was huge. A wild heat rolled off him, frightening her, but leaving her somehow unable to move.
Then he stepped inside and squared himself in front of her.
Brynn’s gaze traveled upward and locked on to his face.
It was that awful man from the train.
Irritation, annoyance—something—swept through Brynn.
What was he doing here? She couldn’t imagine, and she certainly didn’t intend to stick around and find out.
Brynn moved to the right, but he stepped in front of her. She dodged left, but he blocked her again.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?” he demanded.
Brynn pulled herself up and looked him straight in the eye.
“I hardly see where that’s any of your business,” she told him.
“I’ll have to ask you to kindly step aside.”
“Like hell,” he said.
Brynn gasped. She’d never been spoken to in this fashion before and she should have dissolved into tears. Instead, hearing the challenge in his voice made her want to speak just as harshly to him, as if he’d thrown down a verbal gauntlet that she itched to pick up.
“I insist,” she told him, pushing her nose a little higher in the air.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he told her, “until I get exactly what I came here for.”
“If you don’t step aside, I’ll be forced to alert the authorities,”
Brynn informed him.
A crooked smile pulled at one corner of his mouth. “That won’t take too long, seeing as I’m a Pinkerton detective.”
Brynn’s eyes widened. “You’re a…a what? ”
“Travis Hollister,” he said, and flashed a badge in her face that he’d pulled from his shirt pocket. “I’m tracking a thief, and I’m convinced you can help me.”
Annoyed, she huffed. Why would he think she had any knowledge of a thief?
“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,”
Brynn said.
Travis drew closer and leaned down, crowding her.
“I believe you know,” he said. “I believe you know exactly what I’m talking about. In fact, I think you’re an accomplice.”
Stunned, Brynn just stared up at him, too overwhelmed to speak.
“What do you know about stolen jewelry?” he demanded.
“Jewelry?” she blurted out. Heat bloomed across her cheeks.
Breath went out of her.
“Yeah, jewelry,” he said, leaning even closer.
Brynn backed up a step.
“Stolen from a nice old couple in Houston,” Travis said.
She bumped into the newel post. Her gaze darted around the hotel lobby, desperate for an escape.
“You’re involved with the theft,” he said, leaning in. His voice rose. “Admit it.”
Brynn’s heart raced. What could she tell him? Of course she wasn’t involved, but the jewels were, in fact, upstairs hidden in her valise. Wasn’t that the exact evidence he needed to prove she was guilty? Would he for one second believe she’d stumbled upon them and was, at this very moment, on her way to alert the stationmaster?
“Well,” she said and gulped hard. “I, uh, I—”
“Miss Davenport?” a voice called from the doorway.
At the sound of her aunt’s name, Brynn lurched away from Travis and saw four women standing in the lobby, dressed in what had to be their Sunday finest.
“Yes—no—yes,” she stammered. “I mean, I’m Miss O’Keefe.
Miss Davenport is my aunt.”
“Welcome!” A gray-haired woman in a wide-brimmed flowered bonnet stepped toward her, a big smile on her face.
“I’m Mrs. Kimball, wife of Mayor Kimball. We’re so pleased to meet you.”
The three women around her smiled and nodded as Mrs.
Kimball made introductions.
Brynn just stared. She couldn’t take it all in. Her heart pounded in her chest and she cheeks burned with heat. She couldn’t form one single coherent sentence.
Mrs. Kimball and the other ladies stared, waiting, then Brynn blurted out, “This Mr. Hollister thinks I’m some sort of criminal.”
The mayor’s wife gasped and the ladies turned on him.
“This is preposterous!” Mrs. Kimball declared. “Really, Mr.
Hollister, how could you? This young woman is Miss Brynn O’Keefe, in town with her aunt, the renowned author and lecturer Miss Sadie Davenport, invited by special invitation.
How dare you!”
“Shameful,” one of the other women declared, glaring and shaking her finger at Travis.
“It’s an insult,” another woman called.
“We’ve waited weeks to receive this woman!” someone else said.
“Just settle down,” Travis said. “I’m investigating a crime.”
“We’re well aware of who you are, Mr. Hollister,” Mrs.
Kimball declared, giving her nose a distasteful lift. “But Miss O’Keefe is most certainly not a criminal.”
Brynn held her breath as Travis studied the group of women.
Finally he said, “All right, fine. If that’s true, then Miss O’Keefe won’t mind me searching her luggage.”
Brynn’s knees threatened to buckle. She grabbed the newel post to steady herself.
“You’ll do no such thing!” Mrs. Kimball declared.
All the women began chattering at once. Travis waved his hands to quiet them.
“All I’m saying is that’s the one way to put an end to this, once and for all.” He glared down at Brynn. “So how about it?”
“This is an outrage. You will not go through Miss O’Keefe’s personal belongings,” Mrs. Kimball told her, then pointed toward the door. “I insist you leave this moment, Mr. Hollister. And, rest assured, the mayor will hear about this.”
Brynn clutched the newel post to keep herself upright as Travis stared down at her a few more seconds. Then he stepped back, nodded to the ladies and left the hotel. She heaved a sigh of relief as the women crowded around her, offering apologies and encouragement.
“Thank goodness that nasty incident is over and done with,”
Mrs. Kimball said.
Brynn glanced out the hotel doorway. Across the street, Travis Hollister leaned against the bank building, watching her.
* * *
“Good night, Miss O’Keefe,” Mrs. Kimball called.
“Thank you for a lovely evening,” Brynn said as she stepped into the hotel lobby and waved goodbye to the mayor and his wife, who’d been kind enough to see her safely back to her hotel.
She’d spent the evening at the home of the mayor and Mrs.
Kimball. They’d been the perfect hosts, entertaining her with pleasant conversation a
nd good food. Neither had been upset when she’d explained that her aunt Sadie wouldn’t be able to present the scheduled lecture to the ladies of Harmony, and that Brynn would do them instead. That was a relief to her.
But Brynn hadn’t enjoyed the evening in the least. All she could think about was the stolen jewelry tucked into her valise, and that Pinkerton detective Travis Hollister who seemed determined to pin the crime on her.
Brynn lingered in the hotel lobby for a moment, then stuck her head outside. The town of Harmony was steeped in darkness.
Lantern light glowed in the windows of a few shops along Main Street and in the living quarters located above them. A horse and rider plodded past and two men disappeared into an alley down the street.
No sign of Travis Hollister, thank goodness.
Brynn hurried up the stairs. Perhaps he’d been sufficiently dissuaded by the ladies of Harmony this afternoon and had turned his suspicions elsewhere. Perhaps he’d even left town. Dare she hope to believe that he’d forgotten all about her?
Slipping into her hotel room, Brynn quickly locked the door and lit the lantern on the bureau. The flame danced to life, sending shadows into the deep corners of the room.
No, Travis hadn’t changed his mind. She knew he hadn’t. She’d seen that type of man before, determined and relentless. Tenacious.
Brynn sidled up to the window and peeked out. All was quiet on Main Street.
For a brief moment she considered going to the sheriff. He’d seemed like a nice enough fellow when she’d seen him at the train station this afternoon. He was young, rather pleasant looking. If she took the jewelry to him, explained what happened, wouldn’t that convince him that she was innocent?
Or would Travis Hollister claim it was simply a ploy to throw suspicion off her?
Brynn whirled away from the window and hugged her arms to her middle, her thoughts racing.
What if the sheriff didn’t believe her? What if Travis convinced him that she was guilty? She’d be arrested. Thrown into jail. Put on trial.