The knock on the door startled Ashton from his thoughts. He scrubbed his palms over his face twice, and then sat back in his chair. “Enter.”
The door opened and Mr. Wiggins walked in. He was tall, but very thin, and had the reddest hair Ashton had ever seen on a man. His wide-eyed gaze scooted around the office slowly before finally landing on Ashton.
“Uh, pardon my interruption, Mr. Lee, but there is a young woman here to see you.”
Hope sprang in Ashton’s chest. “Who is it? Did she leave a name?”
Nodding, the younger man scratched the side of his crooked nose. “Miss Bastian.”
Relief swept over Ashton. Answers to his questions were within his grasp. He should take things slow if he meant to earn her trust.
He stood and straightened his gray suit jacket. “Please, show her in.” Suddenly nervous, he adjusted his silk black tie with the diamond pin in the middle—a new fashion for men that replaced the cravat which he was still unaccustomed to wearing.
When she walked in, he lost his breath. She was stunning—an angel dressed in red. Wearing a short waist cherry-red jacket over her white blouse with gold buttons, her full skirt matched the jacket trimmed with black. She wore no bonnet today, for which he was grateful. He loved seeing her curly blonde hair. She had wound it in a loose coil at the back of her head, leaving curly wisps by her ears. She certainly was a vision. Slowly, the doubts he had earlier faded.
“I can see you approve of my attire this time,” she said with a light and jovial voice.
“Indeed, I do.” He walked around his desk, and just before reaching her, he put out his hand. She must have read his thoughts, for she slipped her black-gloved hand into his. “I will admit,” he continued, “you are much easier on the eyes dressed this way.”
She laughed as her gaze ran over his length. “And I will return the compliment. At least your clothes are not three sizes too big.” She ran her gloved fingertips above his top lip. “And you look much better without a mustache.”
Quickly, he snatched her hand before she could take it away, and brought her gloved fingers to his mouth and left a small kiss. “It does my heart good to hear such praise from you.”
Her cheeks turned pink, clashing with her red outfit. “Come now, Mr. Lee. Why are you so full of charm this morning?”
Keeping her hand in his, he led her to the chair beside his desk and helped her sit. Then he sat on the edge of his desk. “I thought you liked my charm.”
She shrugged. “I do, actually, but the more you pour it on, the more I wonder if it’s real or if you are just saying things like that for an alternative purpose.”
“To be quite honest, Miss Bastian, the words flow easily from my mouth whenever you are near.”
She flipped her hand and rolled her eyes. “Now, I know you are exaggerating.”
He laughed. “So tell me, my dear, are you here alone or is your cousin with you?”
“My cousin is not with me this time. I’ve actually come to town with my cook. She’s here to pick up some supplies. I told her I needed to drop by and see an old friend while she was shopping.”
His eyebrows lifted. “An old friend. Is that what I am now?”
“Don’t be silly. I had to say something to her so that she wouldn’t worry.”
“Ah, quick thinking, my dear.” He winked. “So tell me, do you approve of my office?”
Her gaze skipped around the room for a moment. “Considering I’ve never been here before, I really think it’s lovely. Although,” she trailed off as she tapped her finger against her lips. “I believe it needs more decorations.”
“Decorations? Why do you think that?”
“My cousin-in-law, Randall Thompson, has an office for his small shipping company, and I’ve been there a few times.” She stood and walked to the closest wall. “I believe you should have a picture of a train right here.” She held her hands out wide, showing him how large the picture should be. “And over here,” she moved to the next wall, “should be smaller scenery pictures.” She turned and pointed to the window. “Standing right here should be a potted plant. The sunlight streaming through this window would be wonderful for a plant.” She tilted her head to the side and folded her arms. “I also think you should have curtains on the windows, as well.”
He scratched the back of his head. “Curtains, you say? Will they have to be lace?”
She chuckled. “Not if you don’t want them to be.”
“Are you by chance a decorator? You seem to know what you’re talking about.”
“Well, considering my father has moved me and my brother from town to town several times while we were growing up, and my mother died when I was very young, I have been the one in my family to make our house a home. Needless to say, I do make a splendid decorator, if I must say so myself.”
Here was the opening for him to ask one of the questions that had been on his mind lately. He moved off the desk and sat in the empty chair beside her, taking her hand in his where it felt right. “Might I ask how your mother died?”
Her smile gradually disappeared. “From consumption.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He rubbed her fingers. “So your father moved you around a lot?”
“We’ve lived in many states. I’m praying he decides to stay in Belle, though. Not only am I tired of meeting new people every few years, I really like Belle, Wyoming. The townsfolk are so very sweet and generous, and I’m not the only one who feels that way. Our servant, Mrs. Phelps, is tired of moving, too.”
Confusion fogged his mind. Nicole’s family must not be very poor if they can afford a servant… and by the way Nicole is dressed today, definitely puts her in the upper-class of people. “What kind of work does your father do?”
He waited for her answer, and it surprised him how long she paused—as if she was trying to think of an answer. Wouldn’t she know what her father did?
“Well, you see,” she said slowly, “he does a lot of things. He does whatever is needed to earn money to support his family. More often than not, he works for the same man, but his employer sends him to different locations.”
“Oh, I see.” He nodded. He received the impression that she was uncomfortable talking about her father’s employment history. Hopefully, it wasn’t something illegal. “How long have you been in Belle?”
“About six months.” She smiled. “And what about you? How long have you been working at Conrail?”
Chuckling, he shook his head. “Believe it or not, I’m still new at this. I’d been a banker for many years, and I’ve only become a co-owner for Conrail just recently.”
She gasped and her eyes widened. “You were a banker?”
“Yes, my father owned one of the largest banks in New York. I learned a lot from him, but the most important lesson I learned was how to budget money.” He shrugged. “That’s one of the reasons I became partners with Nickerson and Larson. They needed someone in their railroad who had a head for budgeting.”
She was silent for a few awkward moments as her gaze narrowed on him. He couldn’t read her thoughts and wondered what she was thinking right now. Her smile almost looked forced as she studied him. But then she took a deep breath and her face relaxed, which made him feel more at ease.
“I would have never guessed that about you, Mr. Lee.”
He arched an eyebrow and said in a humorous manner, “I suppose we all have small secrets from our past, don’t we.”
* * * *
Guilt weighed heavily on Nicole’s chest. She knew she definitely had secrets in her past. But what worried her was that his secrets might have him arrested. Deep down in her heart, she didn’t want to believe he could have robbed his own train. That would be preposterous.
If only circumstantial evidence didn’t point in his direction…
“Indeed, most people have secrets in their past, but…” She pulled away from him, stood, and walked to the window. “If we don’t share them with others, they can destroy us.” Le
aning her shoulder against the wall, she touched the glass with her finger. She needed to get him to tell her more. She must prove he was not involved in the robberies…and if he was, she needed to know now. The more she was with him, the more her heart would be involved.
“Nicole,” he said, walking to her. “Is there something on your mind?” He reached her side and gently touched her arm. “Because I have a good listening ear, if you ever need to talk about something personal.”
Although his comment wasn’t funny in the least, she wanted to laugh. For years she had kept her family’s secrets buried inside of her. She couldn’t even tell her cousin, who’d been her best friend.
She met Ashton’s gaze and smiled, loving the way he called her Nicole. “You are so very sweet to offer that. But I was actually thinking the same thing about you.”
His eyes widened. “Me? Why me?”
“Like you’d mentioned earlier—everyone has secrets from their past. I was thinking that I could be your listening ear if ever you wanted to talk.”
When he chuckled, the dimple in his cheek deepened, which she thought was adorable. The sound of his deep voice made her heart flutter.
He shook his head. “We have been doing this a lot, don’t you agree?”
“Doing what?”
“Thinking alike.”
Nodding, she grinned. “Yes, we have.”
His palm slid down her arm slowly before clasping her hand. “I’ve never known a woman like you, Nicole, and that’s one of the things I found intriguing about you.” He moved closer and his gaze dropped to her mouth. “I hope you feel the same way about me.”
“I do feel the same.” Her heartbeat quickened. As much as she wanted to kiss him again, right now she needed answers. But for the life of her, she couldn’t push him away, and she couldn’t think of anything else she wanted to talk about.
“Since seeing you yesterday, I find myself conjuring up ways to be alone with you,” he said softly. “We didn’t get enough time together at the ball a week ago.”
“I know how you feel,” she answered in a voice entirely too deep to be her own.
“Yet it’s very improper.”
“Indeed, it is.”
“So I was thinking…” He moved in closer and with the pad of his finger, he stroked her bottom lip. “Perhaps I should arrange a dinner party at my house, just as a way of bringing you there.”
“Umm, that does sound like an excellent idea.”
“I could have my friends Nickerson and Larson come with their companions, and then it won’t appear so improper.”
“Yes. That will work, I believe.”
“But after that night is over, I don’t know what I’ll plan if I want to be alone with you.” He shrugged. “Unless you invite me over to your place to meet your father and brother.”
If only I could… “I think that could be arranged,” she lied, even though she really wanted her family to get to know the man she’d come to know.
When Ashton moved closer, her breath caught in her throat. Did he want to kiss her? His hazel eyes held desire in them, just as they’d done that night in the moonlight when they’d shared their first kiss… a kiss that hadn’t been long enough, in her opinion.
Just as his mouth was a breath away from her, someone knocked at the door. Ashton jumped back. Even though disappointment washed over her, she sighed with relief. She couldn’t allow him to kiss her again—not until she knew for certain if he was behind the train robberies. There was no way she could fall in love with a suspect.
EIGHT
Nicole strolled with Mrs. Phelps along the center street in Belle. Several ladies were out and about, many of them that she was friends with. She waved to Clementine Lucas, and Mercy Mason, and her newest friend, Sabine Keller. In all of the places Nicole and her family had lived, she’d never felt quite at home as she did here in Belle, Wyoming. It was like Heaven on earth.
It had been a whole twenty-four hours since Nicole had seen Ashton—yes, she’d been counting—and she wanted so much to drive into Ft. Bridger just to see him again. He’d mentioned having a dinner party at his house, but she had yet to receive an invitation.
Nicole was not a patient person, and the waiting was killing her.
“What do you say we buy some material and make you a pretty dress for your dinner party with Mr. Lee?” Mrs. Phelps asked, waggling her eyebrows.
Although Nicole couldn’t tell her father and brother about how she was getting closer to Ashton for investigation purposes only, Mrs. Phelps was different. The older woman had always treated Nicole like a daughter, which was helpful, especially in times like this. Nicole was also grateful that Mrs. Phelps had promised not to tell her father.
“I would like that, thank you.” Nicole smiled at the woman.
“He does seem like a pleasant person.” Mrs. Phelps nodded. “And he’s quite easy on the eyes.”
Nicole chuckled. “Indeed, he’s very handsome.”
They stepped into the store and searched through the many different yards of fabric that filled three tables. A few other women also looked through the fabric, but then moved to another table. A short, squatty woman that Nicole didn’t recognize, moved to their table, and when she looked at Mrs. Phelps, she gasped loudly.
“Angela Phelps? What a pleasure to see you. How long has it been?”
Mrs. Phelps grinned. “At least six months since that’s how long we’ve been in Belle.” She clasped the other lady’s hand in a friendly greeting.
The woman’s gaze moved to Nicole and stopped. “And who is this lovely creature?”
“This is Miss Bastian. I work for her father.” Angela looked at Nicole. “Miss Bastian, this is Mrs. Merriweather. I have known her for years.” She switched her gaze to the plump woman with tightly curly black and white hair. “Margaret, this is Nicole Bastian.”
“How very nice to meet you.” The woman patted Nicole’s hand.
“And you, as well.” Nicole smiled.
“Don’t you think Mrs. Phelps is a remarkable woman?” Mrs. Merriweather beamed. “I have never known a woman who could do what this one does.”
“Oh, yes.” Nicole nodded, surprised at the other woman’s comment. “Mrs. Phelps is stupendous.”
“Now, now…” Angela waved her hand in the air. “Enough boasting about my accomplishments. I’m sure they are overrated.”
Nicole chuckled. Not often did she see this side of the family’s housekeeper/cook.
“So tell me, Margaret,” Angela lowered her voice, “have you heard anything lately about Conrail’s train robberies? There are so many rumors, I just don’t know what to believe.”
Holding her breath, Nicole kept herself from overreacting. She had yet to hear any gossip about the robberies here in Belle.
“Actually, yes,” Mrs. Merriweather whispered and leaned closer. “Rumor has it that the thief was spotted during their last robbery, and the guards were able to get a better description of him.”
Nicole gasped and put her hand over her mouth. Why hadn’t her father heard this yet?
“Do tell,” Angela urged.
“Apparently, he’s a tall, strappingly handsome man with dark brown hair. Rumor has it that he’s young, too.”
“How young?” Nicole whispered, not really wanting to hear this, especially if it pointed to Ashton.
“Probably in his late twenties or even early thirties.” Mrs. Merriweather nodded. “I’ve heard he dresses like a gentleman, too.”
A throb began to pound in Nicole’s forehead. Too many similarities that made Ashton a prime suspect. Then again, she didn’t know if she should trust this woman or not. However, by Angela’s wide-eyed expression, she seemed to believe her.
“I don’t think the police have given such a perfect description of the robber. How remarkable,” Angela muttered.
“Isn’t it though?” Margaret shook her head.
“Well, I thank you for clearing that up for me.” Angela folded her hands across
her large bosom. “I just hope the police are looking for the right person now.”
“I pray that as well.” Margaret smiled. “I better be on my way now. I hope to see you again soon.” She turned her attention to Nicole. “And it was a pleasure meeting you.”
“Likewise, I’m sure.” Nicole watched the other woman waddle out of the shop before turning to Angela. “Please don’t tell me that she thinks… that the police think…”
Angela patted Nicole’s arm. “My dear, there are many men who fit that description in Ft. Bridger. I’m sure it’s not your Mr. Lee.”
Nicole expelled a nervous breath. “I hope not. I just can’t believe he would do something like that, especially when he just barely became a co-partner.”
“What is telling you this, my dear girl? Is it your head—or your heart?”
Nicole shrugged and tried to smile. “I wish I knew the difference between the two.”
“You will when the time comes.”
Time seemed to fly as Mrs. Phelps purchased the material and they came home. It didn’t take long for Angela to gather her sewing items and start on Nicole’s gown. She paced the floor as her heart wrenched with doubts about Ashton, and yet, her mind argued. She had started to have feelings for him before discovering that he was a suspect. How could she have been so wrong? Was it her heart or her head giving her doubts now?
What she needed was hard, physical proof, and somehow, some way, she needed to get it. She’d be at his house for a dinner party soon, yet how could she sneak around without everyone knowing? The fact was, she couldn’t. She needed her brother or someone to help her. While she was keeping Ashton entertained, Gordon could sneak into Ashton’s study and look around for evidence.
Although, did she want her brother in the same house where she and Ashton were? Especially when she practically melted every time that sensual man looked at her with his desire-laden hazel eyes?
Too Many Secrets Page 6