by Jillian Hart
“I’m supposed to meet my aunt. We have to continue her tour. I can’t stay in this town for two weeks,” Brynn insisted.
Twin frown lines formed in his forehead.
“Is that your way of saying that you’re afraid to face the judge?” he asked.
“No, of course not. It’s just that—”
“Seems to me a person would be happy to plead their innocence directly to a judge.” Travis drew a little closer. “An innocent person, that is.”
“I am innocent,” she told him.
He shrugged. “Then convincing the judge won’t be a problem.”
“What am I supposed to do about expenses?” Brynn asked, hoping this last protest might earn her a reprieve.
“The agency will pick up the tab,” Travis told her.
Brynn pressed her lips together to keep from protesting further.
The very last thing she wanted was to stay in this town a minute longer than necessary. There had to be a way to get out of this.
But to do that, it would seem she first had to get around Travis.
Applause rose from the crowd seated in the church’s fellowship hall. Brynn had just delivered her lecture on setting the perfect table, and every woman in the place had listened attentively. Throughout her talk, she’d seen women whispering to each other, nodding their approval. Satisfaction grew inside Brynn. Aunt Sadie had been right in taking this tour west. The women here desperately wanted this information.
Brynn was careful to keep a pleasant but humble expression on her face, as she’d seen Aunt Sadie do after each lecture, when the women left their seats and crowded around. Olivia had agreed to sell Planning Perfection at a table nearby, the duty Brynn usually performed at her aunt’s lectures.
“I’m purchasing new china,” Nan Prescott said to Brynn.
“Could you please help me with the selection? I have a catalog from a wonderful company in New York City.”
“You have a catalog from New York City?” the woman next to her asked. “I’d love to see it.”
“And I could use your help with some new linens,” Effie Stanton said.
Ruth Asher, Olivia’s mother, spoke up. “I’m anxious to read your aunt’s book, but I just know I’ll still have questions about the wedding.”
As she’d seen Aunt Sadie do, Brynn referred them to the appropriate chapter in the book or answered their questions outright.
Still, it didn’t seem to be enough for the women of Harmony.
“You simply must give another talk,” Ada Holt declared.
Around her, heads bobbed and a chorus of yes es rose from the women. “Violet?” she called to the mayor’s wife. “Please. You have to convince Miss O’Keefe to continue her lectures here.”
Mrs. Kimball elbowed her way into the group surrounding Brynn.
“Would you?” she asked.
Dozens of eager faces watched her. The women all cared about their homes and wanted to make them perfect. More than any of them, Brynn knew how important it was to conduct oneself in a perfect manner. It warmed her heart to know she could help them.
But that didn’t change the fact that she was supposed to return to Hayden and continue with the tour, as soon as her aunt was up to it. Brynn didn’t know when Aunt Sadie’s health would allow it.
And, of course, she still had to figure out what to do about Travis’s insistence that she remain in town until the circuit judge arrived.
“I’d love to stay, but I’ll have to check my schedule,” Brynn said, thinking that covered most everything.
Mrs. Kimball shook off Brynn’s concerns and announced to the women, “I’ll let you all know the details.”
The ladies smiled and called their thanks as they slowly left the fellowship hall. Olivia gave Brynn the money she’d collected for the books.
“I heard Mama ask if you’d help with my wedding,” she said.
“Would you really do that?”
Brynn couldn’t refuse. “I’ll help any way I can.”
She left the fellowship hall with Olivia and her mother, anxious for a little peace and quiet after the long evening of delivering the lecture and answering so many questions. Outside in the churchyard, the sheriff waited.
“Just in time to walk you ladies home,” Rafe said, smiling at Olivia.
Even in the darkness, Brynn could see Olivia’s face light up.
“We don’t usually get walked home by the sheriff and a Pinkerton detective. Are you expecting trouble?” Ruth asked in a lighthearted fashion.
Brynn’s heart lurched as Travis stepped out of the shadows.
“I’m always expecting trouble,” he said.
“Causing trouble, more likely,” Olivia said, and everyone laughed.
Everyone but Brynn.
Rafe headed across the churchyard with Olivia on one side, her mother on the other. Brynn held back.
“You’d better not be here to arrest me,” she told him, pushing out her chin as if to dare him to do just that.
“You don’t need to worry as long as you agree to talk to the judge.” Travis angled closer. “Do I have your word on it?”
Brynn fumed silently. She didn’t want to agree to anything this man said, but didn’t see any alternative…that didn’t land her in jail, anyway.
“Fine. I’ll speak to the judge.” She gave him an impatient huff and stomped away.
Travis was in front of her in two long strides, stopping her in place.
“You’ll agree to stay in town?” He asked, but the words sounded more like a demand to Brynn.
She put her nose in the air, hoping it indicated that speaking to him further on the subject didn’t suit her.
“Yes, I’ll stay.”
She tried to leave again, but Travis blocked her. He was a formidable wall in front of her.
“Promise me,” he said.
His voice sounded softer, the words a plea rather than a command. Something in his tone touched her.
“I promise,” she said.
He studied her for a long moment, as if judging whether to believe her. Finally he nodded toward the fellowship hall.
“Sounds as if the ladies of Harmony want you around for a while, anyway,” he said.
“You heard my lecture?” she asked, genuinely surprised.
“In my line of work, you never know when you might need to set a perfect table,” he said, and grinned.
Brynn grinned, too. She couldn’t help it, seeing the comical expression on his face. It changed him. In a flash the tough Pinkerton detective disappeared and a handsome man appeared.
Handsome? The notion took Brynn by surprise. She’d been so worried over what Travis might do, what problems he might cause her, she hadn’t looked at him closely enough to realize that he was, in fact, quite handsome.
“Do you really believe all that stuff you were telling the ladies?” he asked, as they crossed the churchyard. Ahead of them, lights from the windows along Main Street glowed, drawing them back to town.
“Certainly,” Brynn insisted.
“Perfection,” Travis said. “That’s a tall order.”
“Striving for perfection is the only way to run one’s life,”
Brynn told him. “Don’t you want to be perfect in your work?”
“Never occurred to me to try,” he said. “Do you expect to be perfect all of the time?”
“I expect I’d better be perfect when I talk to the judge,” Brynn said.
Though they’d discussed the situation earlier and she’d agreed to it, she decided it wouldn’t hurt to revisit it.
“Isn’t there some other way to handle this situation? My aunt expects me back in Hayden in a few days, and we have to continue on the tour. I can’t stay in Harmony for weeks.”
Travis stopped suddenly and looked down at her, his expression hard.
“You promised me you’d stay.”
“Yes, I did. And I’ll stay, just like I promised,” Brynn said.
She sighed heavily. “But
it puts me in a very difficult position.”
“It doesn’t exactly suit me, either,” Travis said. They started walking again, and stepped up onto the boardwalk at the edge of town. “With you staying here, that means I have to stay here, too.”
A jolt rippled through Brynn. She hadn’t considered that Travis would have to stay in town, also. And she didn’t understand why the idea left her with such an odd feeling.
“I don’t like being tied down,” Travis told her. “I stay on the move.”
She stopped on the boardwalk and looked up at him.
Richmond suddenly seemed very dear to her. The house she’d been raised in, her friends, her brothers, her papa—even though he was terribly upset with her.
“You don’t have a home?” she asked. “Anywhere?”
Travis shrugged as if the notion were no big deal. “I don’t need one and I don’t want one.”
“What about your family?”
“My ma died when I was young, so my aunt raised me. My pa was a lawman, gone most of the time.”
A vision of Travis as a boy sprang into Brynn’s mind.
“And every time he visited, you wanted to leave with him,”
she said.
He blanched, somehow startled by her words, then said, “He taught me right from wrong. He dedicated his life to the law. It was important work.”
Travis started walking again, as if he’d said too much, or perhaps was afraid she’d ask another question. Brynn walked with him.
“So believe me,” Travis said, “I’m no more anxious to stay here in Harmony than you are. That judge can’t get here fast enough to suit me.”
They entered the Harmony Hotel. The lobby was empty, the dining room closed for the evening.
The night before flashed into Brynn’s mind. His kiss. Their kiss. The feel of him, the scent, the taste. Everything came rushing back.
Would he kiss her again?
He didn’t. An odd disappointment settled over Brynn as she realized that not only did Travis not intend to kiss her, he seemed set on keeping his distance. Purposely, it appeared, he stood at least a yard away from her.
“Good night,” she said.
“Good night,” he replied.
She hesitated a moment, then turned and headed up the stairs.
She’d only gone a short way when she heard his heavy footfalls on the risers behind her.
Brynn stopped and turned back to find him a few steps below her. The height difference put them on eye level; it was nice not having to look up at him for once.
“Stop following me,” she told him.
“I’m not following you,” he said.
Her back stiffened. “Of course you are.”
“No, I’m not,” he said.
“Shh!” She glanced up the stairs, then back at him. “You’re going to wake everyone in the place.”
“You’re the one raising such a ruckus,” he pointed out. His brows drew together. “You’re a suspect in a crime, don’t forget.”
“Do you kiss all your suspects?” she asked.
“Only the ones who need kissing,” Travis said.
With one giant step he was on the riser with her, looking into her eyes, the wild heat she’d felt from him once more covering her. Brynn’s heart rate picked up. Her knees trembled.
“I won’t have my reputation called into question by your presence upstairs,” she said. Heat filled her cheeks, hearing her words spoken in a breathy sigh.
Travis angled closer. “I’m just doing my duty. You’re in my custody.”
“What?” Her eyes widened, the warmth he’d created in her suddenly turning cool.
“I’m duty bound to make sure you’re here when the judge arrives,” Travis told her.
She took a step back. “I told you I’d stay. You have no right—”
“Need I remind you that I caught you trying to sneak out of town?” he asked.
There wasn’t much she could say to that, which didn’t suit her in the least. Still, she couldn’t let him have his way.
“Nonetheless, I insist you stop following me,” she said.
“I told you, I’m not following you. I’m going up to my room.”
Breath went out of her. “Your room?”
Travis motioned toward the second floor. “Top of the stairs, on the left.”
“But…but that’s where my room is,” she exclaimed.
He gave her a slight smile. “And mine is right next to yours.”
Chapter Six
Would she find Travis in the hotel dining room this morning?
The idea popped into Brynn’s head as she left her room and hurried down the stairs. At the entrance to the dining room she paused. Bright morning sunlight beamed through the white curtains, making the pale blue linens sparkle. Several tables were occupied, some with businessmen, others with families dressed in traveling clothes. The low hum of conversation and clinking silverware filled the area.
No sign of Travis.
Good, she told herself, as she took a seat at a table beside the window. He’d occupied too much of her thoughts already, especially when she had a much more important issue to contemplate.
Her freedom.
The serving girl stopped at her table and filled her coffee cup.
“I was at your lecture last night,” she said, and her eyes took on a dreamy look. “I can’t wait to read your aunt’s book.”
“She’ll be pleased to hear that,” Brynn said, and asked for the morning breakfast special detailed on the chalkboard at the entrance of the dining room.
“Coming right up,” the young girl said, and hurried away.
When she disappeared through the swinging door to the kitchen, Brynn caught a glimpse of the shelves of canisters near the stove.
She said a silent prayer that the cook wouldn’t need cornmeal anytime soon, since that’s where she’d hidden the jewelry.
She sipped her coffee thinking of the old Houston couple Travis had told her about. The jewelry had probably been in their family for years. They must have been heartsick when they’d realized it had been stolen.
Obviously, the real thief had planted the jewelry in her luggage at some point. At the hotel in Hayden or during the ride to the train station, perhaps. Maybe in the baggage car once the train got underway, or after it arrived in Harmony. Lots of people had access to the baggage and that certainly included a thief looking for a place to hide stolen property.
Brynn glanced out the window. She half expected to see Travis striding down the boardwalk toward her, but didn’t. She turned back to her coffee.
She wished she could return the jewelry to its rightful owner, but she didn’t dare. Not yet, anyway. Once she’d spoken to the judge, cleared her name and secured her freedom, she’d give it to the sheriff in secret. Or maybe she’d take it back to the Houston couple herself, somehow.
The serving girl brought her breakfast. Brynn gazed out the window as she ate. Many of the faces looked familiar to her now.
She and her aunt had traveled extensively these past weeks. Communities and towns had rolled past, oftentimes unnoticed. Brynn took comfort in recognizing so many of Harmony’s citizens.
Through the window, she caught sight of Mrs. Kimball on the boardwalk heading toward the hotel. The woman nodded when she spotted Brynn, and a few seconds later she appeared at her table.
“I’m glad I found you,” Mrs. Kimball said, after accepting Brynn’s invitation to join her. “I wanted to be the first to speak with you.”
Worry settled over Brynn. Had the mayor’s wife somehow found out that Travis, a Pinkerton detective, considered her a criminal?
Mrs. Kimball didn’t give her a chance to ask.
“For some time now, I’ve sensed that the ladies of Harmony needed more help, and last night your lecture proved it,” she said.
“I’ve spoken with many of them, and the mayor, of course, and decided that the time to act is now. What we need is a ladies’
&nbs
p; social club. A place where women can meet, share problems and exchange ideas.”
Brynn smiled. “That’s a wonderful idea.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Kimball agreed. “Ada Holt has agreed to donate an unused portion of her building for a meeting place. Once we’ve given it a good cleaning, a fresh coat of paint and proper furnishings, it will make an excellent meeting location.”
“Sounds like a worthwhile project,” Brynn said. “And fixing it up will be a joy.”
“I’m glad you agree,” Mrs. Kimball said, “because I’d like you to head up the project.”
“Me?” Brynn asked, surprised.
“Of course. You’re perfect for the job. And since you’re staying in Harmony for the next few weeks, you’ll have plenty of time to see it through.”
“Staying in Harmony?” Brynn asked. “Where did you hear that?”
“Why, my dear, it’s all over town.”
“You look like hell,” Rafe said.
Travis didn’t argue. Not after the night he’d had.
He paused on the boardwalk where Rafe stood outside Holt’s General Store. The streets of Harmony were busy this morning, with lots of people going about their business—which was exactly what Travis would have been doing, if he hadn’t overslept.
He’d been awake most of the night. How could he sleep with Brynn in the next room? Nothing but a thin wall separated them, and though he couldn’t see through it, he may as well have, thanks to his imagination.
Brynn, undressing. Layers and layers of soft clothing stripping away. Brynn standing in front of the mirror, pulling pins from her hair until it cascaded down her back in heavy waves.
Slipping into a thin nightgown, the hem brushing her calves.
Sliding between the crisp sheets—
“Anything new on Smith?” Rafe asked, bringing Travis back to reality.
He shook his head. “I sent a telegram to the Denver office asking for more information. Haven’t heard anything yet.”
“I’ve seen Smith around town, visiting stores, calling on shop owners, peddling that fabric of his.” Rafe shrugged. “He’s acting like a salesman, not a jewel thief.”