A Changed Agent (4 page)

The woman disappeared with a rustle of stiff red taffeta. Feeling like she may have gone a bit too far by creating such a scene, Elsie took a step to the side of the door, pulling the wide brim of her bonnet lower. Three men came out the doors before Mr. Benton finally exited. And then he completely ignored her, walking right past her toward the children.

Gathering her skirts, she trudged up right behind him. Her anger was so great that she had to force herself to take a moment to say a silent prayer for calmness. She reminded herself that the children were present. Barely stopping to retrieve his charges, he seemed oblivious to her presence. Lengthening her stride, she matched his pace.

“Mr. Benton! You cannot leave these children on the sidewalk while you do . . .” Sputtering, she searched for the right words. “Whatever it was you were doing back there in that horrible place.”

Casting a sidelong glance at him, she saw his back stiffen. He had some nerve being angry at her! Not to be deterred by his silence, Elsie finally caught hold of his arm right above his elbow. Startled by the flexing of firm muscle, she quickly dropped her hand to her side.

“Mr. Benton! Stop!”

“Follow me to my home, Miss Mitchell. We can talk there.”

“But Uncle Will, Miss Mitchell promised we could get a bakery treat.” Harry’s plaintive whine sliced through the tension-filled air.

Mr. Benton glanced at her.

Daring to speak, she said, “I promised them if they behaved while I went to find you that they could have a treat.”

Turning away from her, he looked down the street to where the bake shop stood. The wonderful scent of its locally famous cinnamon rolls wafted from the open door all the way to where they stood. Elsie thought it one of the most blessed scents of the entire town. Looking at the hopeful expressions on the children’s faces, she hoped Mr. Benton thought so, too.

“All right! I’d hate to make a lady go back on her word.”

They drew up short in front of the storefront, where Mr. Benton said, “You will wait here while I go buy the cinnamon rolls.” A few minutes later he returned with a full brown paper bag. Handing it to her for safekeeping, he led the way to the opposite end of the town in silence.

She didn’t know what to do with his brooding silence. When they finally reached the house, Mr. Benton turned to take the bag from her.

The place looked much better than it had in months. The porch had been swept clean of the dried leaves and twigs left over from the previous fall, the windows had been cleaned of grime, and the front door stood ajar. Pausing at the base of the steps, she watched as the trio disappeared into the house. Putting her hand on the rail, she started up the steps, only to be stopped by Mr. Benton as he returned to the porch.

“The children are washing up.” Folding his arms across his chest, he stood looming over her on the top step.

Despite his intimidating stance, she was determined to make him understand that his actions had been completely inappropriate. Removing her hand from the railing, she took a moment to gather her thoughts.

She looked up at him and said, “Mr. Benton, you can’t leave children that age unattended! Too many things could happen to them. Strangers come through this town quite frequently on their way to the mountain retreats. There’s no telling who these people are, where they came from, or what their intentions might be.”

“Don’t you think I’m aware of the dangers out in the world?”

“I’m saying that it has become clear to me, sir, that you have no idea how to raise children. They are in need of a great deal of care, the first part of which is seeing they are safe at all times. The saloon. . . .” She gulped in a breath before continuing, watching as he narrowed his gaze even further at her. “What were you thinking?”

She hadn’t intended to ask the question. It just popped out of her mouth on its own volition.

“It’s none of your business what I was thinking, Miss Mitchell.”

Elsie plowed onward, keeping the children’s needs at the forefront of her thoughts. “I was going to take a few days to organize my belongings, but after what I just witnessed, I fear the children might come to harm if I’m not here to ensure their safekeeping.”

His face relaxed a fraction, and she thought this might be because he was about to have another person to shoulder some of his parental responsibilities. She soldiered on because there were a few new stipulations to her final acceptance of this job.

“There are things you must agree to before I move into the apartment.”

“You promised me back at the school yard that you’d be coming here.”

“That was before I found the children, alone, outside the saloon.”

They engaged in a silent standoff, until he spoke first. “Go on.”

“Dinner will be on the table every night by six o’clock. I will not stay up awaiting your return from your work. Then there is the matter of church services. The children and you will attend them every Sunday. I cannot tolerate a lack of the Lord’s guidance in their lives.” She noted that with every rule she imparted, his stance had begun to change, until he stood with his feet apart and his arms crossed in front of his chest, squinting at her with an angry glare.

Undeterred by his silent intimidation, she ended with the one thing she felt certain would be like poking a stick into a hornet’s nest. “I cannot abide by your visits to the saloon.”

Moments passed when the only sound to be heard was the chirping of the spring birds in a nearby budding weeping willow tree.

“While I will try to be here for dinner at the appointed time, you must understand that there will be times when my job will not allow for that. Working at the lumber company does not come with specified hours. I may be required to be up at the lumber camp for days at a time.”

“The children and I will deal with those times as they come along. But you mustn’t work on the Lord’s Day. This will set a terrible example for the children. And frankly, Mr. Benton, from what I’ve seen today, you are in need of some time with the Lord.”

Dropping his arms to his sides, he said, “Miss Mitchell, I’m delighted that you will be helping with Harry and Minnie.”

Her mood brightened a bit at his remark. “Thank you.” And then it just as quickly plummeted when he held up a hand.

“Let me finish, please.”

“Of course. Go on.”

“I am a man who has needs.”

Her gaze wavered from his as the heat of a blush spread across her face.

“I will go to the saloon when I choose to. And as for my time with the Lord, that is between me and the man up above.”

She could learn to tolerate many disagreements, but his choosing not to attend church wasn’t one of them. Elsie immediately wanted to rescind her offer to stay and care for the children. She might have done just that if Harry and Minnie hadn’t chosen to make an appearance.

Harry awarded her a smile. “Is it true, Miss Mitchell? Are you really going to be staying here with us so soon?”

She didn’t answer right away. Her mind was busy formulating a way to get their uncle to see the light of day in regard to the proper rearing of children. Finally, she said, “So long as your uncle agrees to accompany us to church services every Sunday, I’ll be here to help take care of you and your sister.”

Will was awestruck by the schoolmarm’s audacity. How dare she dictate to him the conditions of her employment? He’d known from the start that Miss Mitchell was going to be a stubborn woman. But he’d no idea just how tenacious she could be. Although she didn’t know it, the matter of his going to the saloon had nothing to do with his needs as a man or for drinking. Alcohol hadn’t passed his lips since he’d started working with the Pinkerton Agency. Truth be told, Will didn’t care for the drink.

However, the telegram that had been delivered to him outside the schoolhouse had indicated that the mark could be on the move. Furthermore, there was no changing the ways of certain criminals who made it a habit to haunt such establishments. If the mark was to be found in the saloon, then it was Will’s job to follow the lead there. To his way of thinking, the children had been perfectly safe outside the building.

Maybe he’d been wrong about his decision to leave them there. But he’d had to act quickly, and he’d felt sure they’d be all right on the walkway outside the saloon.

“I thought they would be fine. I was keeping an eye on them.” Will had seen them through the saloon’s swinging doors not five minutes before Miss Mitchell had come along. They’d been fine.

“The children are not dogs, Mr. Benton. They can’t be left unattended.”

He realized that the children couldn’t be taken care of while he worked his cases. And he didn’t see them as animals. He’d just put his job first. Miss Mitchell was right, Will had the twins’ well-being to consider first now.

On the other hand, the church issue was stuck in Miss Mitchell’s craw like honey on a bear’s paw. Here she was a professed good Christian woman using the emotions of these innocent children to get her way. Will didn’t think that was acting Christian-like at all. He didn’t say those words to her, though. He knew she had him over a barrel. He needed her here in order to carry out his current Pinkerton assignment, and as much as he was loath to admit it, he needed her to help keep his cover intact. What better way to keep his mark off track than to look like a lumberjack foreman with a small family?

Will watched the corners of her mouth twitch up in a triumphant smile as she realized he was going to accept her conditions. He had to hand it to her, she knew how to bide her time. But darned if her toe didn’t get to a-tapping, giving away her impatience. Leaning against the porch post, he leveled what he knew to be his most intimidating stare—one that had stopped many criminals in their tracks. Her toe stilled.

Satisfied that she knew who was in control here, he said, “If my work allows for it, I will attend your church services.”

It was the best he could offer her. It had been a long time since he and the Lord had had much to say to each other. Since it looked like she was going to rebut his counteroffer, he held up his hand to stop her. “That’s all you’re going to get from me, Miss Mitchell. Take it or leave it.”

Raising her chin just a notch, she pinned him with a firm gaze. “I suppose it will have to do. For now.”

Shaking his head at her last words, he frowned. He was beginning to wonder if he’d finally met his match.

Chapter Four

Letting out a sigh of pent-up frustration, Elsie gathered her skirts and climbed up the steps past Mr. Benton. Going into the house, she was pleased to find that the rooms had been aired and swept out. Walking through the parlor, she followed the sound of Harry’s voice. Passing through a side door, she discovered a good-sized cooking area. There was a cast-iron cook stove and a sink along one wall; a hand-hewn table sat in the middle of the room with two benches tucked underneath. The children stood in front of the sink. Harry was helping his sister dry her hands on a worn dish towel.

“Miss Mitchell, isn’t this house nice?”

“From what I’ve seen of it, yes it is, Harry.” Smiling at them, she wandered over to inspect the sink. She was relieved to find it clean. The floorboards creaked behind her, and she turned to find William Benton standing in the doorway.

“Why don’t I give everyone a tour?”

“That would be lovely. Come on, children, let’s take a look at our new home.” The phrase “our new home” sounded strange and had Elsie wondering once again whether she’d gotten in way over her head. She took a moment to remind herself of the prayers she’d prayed, renewing her purpose for being here. This was what she was meant to be doing.

Mr. Benton allowed her and the children to precede him up the staircase in the center of the house. She noticed the faint, worn remnants of a leaf pattern adorning the stairwell and thought that Mr. Oliver’s grandmother might have hired an itinerant artist to do the work. Even though the paint was aged, it still had a remarkable patina to it. The late-afternoon sunlight bounced off the hall walls. Mr. Benton pointed to the first room on the right.

“I thought I’d make this my room, and then Minnie and Harry could have their pick of the other two bedrooms. Or they could share the one across the hall from mine.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Minnie grab hold of her brother’s hand.

“I think it might be a good idea to put them in the same room for now. I don’t have any siblings, but I imagine it would be fun to share a room with one.” Minnie shot her a look, and Elsie thought she saw some of the wariness fade from the little girl’s eyes.

Looking into the room directly across the hall from where Mr. Benton would be sleeping, she said, “The bed looks to be large enough for both of them. So after supper, we’ll do our best to freshen the room.”

Though she knew he’d worked hard to air out the house, there hadn’t been time to wash the bed linens. She made a mental note to put that at the top of her chore list. If the weather held, she might be able to get this done within the next few days.

Mr. Benton allowed her to go down the hallway and peek into the last room on this floor. It contained two small beds and a nightstand. They made their way back downstairs.

“I’d like to see my quarters now, if that’s all right with you.”

“Of course. Your entrance is right off the kitchen.”

Again she followed him, the children in their wake. After a cursory look around the sitting area, where a potbelly stove stood in one corner, and then the bedroom, with a suitable bed and a lovely window that looked out to a side yard, she was surprised to find a small washroom. She remembered that as Mr. Oliver’s grandmother had gotten on in years, the stairs had become too much for her and he had added some of these conveniences for her.

Looking at the cobwebs hanging in the crevices of the small room, and adding their removal to the mental list she’d been keeping track of, Elsie realized she had her work cut out for her. Not only would she be putting together lesson plans for her students, but she would be setting this household to rights.

A wagon rattled near the house and creaked to a halt. Mr. Benton excused himself and left her there with the children. “I think we might have our first visitor. Shall we go see who is here?”

Minnie hugged her doll and held on to Harry’s hand as they walked to the front entry. The door stood open. To Elsie’s delight, the wagon was bearing what looked to be a load of supplies. Leaving the children safely in the parlor, she went out to assist with the unloading. A cool breeze came across the porch, ruffling her skirts. Shivering, she pulled the shawl around her shoulders.

“You can wait inside with the children, Miss Mitchell. I can handle this,” Mr. Benton said.

“I’m fine. More hands will make the job go faster. It looks to me like you bought out most of the mercantile!” She smiled up at him.

“The house needs most everything to be up and running. Why don’t you take this box here? There should be something in there to make into a supper. You do that, and I’ll see to the rest of it.”

Taking the box from him, she went back into the house and set the contents on the table. She found the makings for a hearty soup. While Mr. Benton brought box after box of stock into the kitchen, she chopped up some root vegetables and tossed them into the cast-iron pot on the back of the stove. After stirring the embers in the firebox, she added a few pieces of wood. As the fire burned hot, she walked back to the sink and worked the pump until the cold well water flowed.

Taking a tin pitcher from the back of the sink, she filled it, then added the water to the soup pot. She placed a lid on the pot, allowing it to simmer. Soon the house was filled with the comforting smells of a good dinner.

While the children played outside on the porch, she and Mr. Benton worked in silence, setting canned goods and sacks of flour, rice, and sugar on the shelves lining the back wall of the kitchen.

Elsie went to the stove and, picking up a large spoon, tended to the pot, saying, “I know I said I’d stay on right away, but I’ll need to go back to my parents’ house to pack up my belongings. So if it’s all right with you, I will go home tonight, and then I’ll have my father bring me into town tomorrow morning so we can leave my belongings here.”

“That sounds like a good idea. I’m sure the children will be fine spending one more night alone with me.”

Elsie couldn’t help feeling that her life was taking a turn. Walking to the window, she looked out to watch Minnie and Harry playing on the porch. Already they looked happier. The sight lifted her heart.

Turning away, she asked, “Where are the eating utensils?”

“I saw some in the cabinet by the door.” Mr. Benton opened the cabinet and took out four white bowls, and after some rifling around, he also pulled out spoons.

Elsie took one look at the thick layer of grime covering them and said, “These are filthy.” She scrubbed them in the sink until they were cleaned to her satisfaction, then set them out on the table.

Pausing in the chore, she looked to where Mr. Benton stood in the doorway. “There’s no need for you to help me with the cooking.”

“Just trying to be helpful, ma’am.”

“I appreciate that. But I don’t want you thinking I can’t handle these responsibilities.”

“I didn’t think that at all. I’ll stay out of your way from here on out.”

Fearing she might have insulted him, Elsie quickly added, “It’s not that you can’t be in here. I just want you to understand that I can handle preparing the meals.”

The issue settled, she went to the front door, opened it, and beckoned the children inside to eat. When Harry made a beeline for a seat at the table, she softly scolded him. “We must wash our hands before we eat, Harry.”

“But Miss Mitchell, we just did that.”

“I know. But we walked around the house, and you and your sister have been playing outside. It never hurts to have clean hands.” Ushering them to the sink, Elsie pumped a small bit of water. Finishing up, they each found a place at the table.

When everyone had settled, she said, “Let’s say a prayer of thanksgiving for our supper.”

Remembering their earlier conversation concerning the Lord, she dared to glance across the table to where Mr. Benton sat opposite her. He was watching her with those dark eyes. A feeling of trepidation skittered down her spine. She felt certain he would set a good example for his niece and nephew. Then again, he was used to being out on his own in a world where she felt certain the boundaries of decency were few and far between.

She noticed he still wore his hat. Trying not to make a spectacle out of the fact, she raised her eyes, inclining her head in his direction.

Immediately reading her expression, he removed the hat, hanging it off the back of his chair. She folded her hands, waiting while the children mimicked her actions. Looking down the length of the table, she noticed his were resting alongside the soup bowl. Silence descended upon them. Again she met his gaze. A good minute ticked by before he followed suit. Bending her head, she decided to keep her words simple. “Lord, we thank you for putting a roof over our heads and for the nourishment of this meal. As always, we welcome your guidance in our lives. Amen.”

Even before she opened her eyes and lifted her head, Elsie felt Mr. Benton’s gaze upon her. And when she returned his look with an unwavering one of her own, she saw the wariness reflected in his eyes. As far as she was concerned, the man was just going to have to get used to the fact that she would be not only bringing stability to this little family but also sharing her faith, too.

After they finished up their meal and cleaned up the dishes, Mr. Benton loaded her and the children into a borrowed wagon and drove her out to her parents’ house. She assured the children that this would be her last night apart from them, then bid them good night.

Will walked Miss Mitchell to the doorstep of her parents’ home. Before he could step away, the door opened, revealing a tall man with similar features to Miss Mitchell.

“Good evening, Elsie.”

“Father!” She sounded surprised to see him. “Mr. Benton was kind enough to bring me home.” Watching them, she fidgeted with the strings of her reticule.

A woman whom Will assumed from the violet color of her eyes to be Elsie’s mother came to join them.

“Mother, Father, this is William Benton, the man whose niece and nephew I’ll be caring for.”

Eventually, Mr. Benton put out his hand and her father shook it. Then he tipped his hat to Elsie’s mother. “Pleasure to meet you both.”

Will thought perhaps Elsie’s parents might want to know more about the position offered to their daughter. Instead, Mr. Mitchell said, “Thank you for seeing our daughter home.”

Taking Elsie by the elbow, he ushered her inside the house.

Mr. Mitchell’s attitude might be polite, but it was not welcoming. Will knew it was best to leave Miss Mitchell to deal with her parents. Nodding in the direction of the wagon, he said, “It’s getting late. I need to get the children back to town.”

He climbed back onto the buckboard to find Minnie sucking her thumb and Harry fidgeting on the seat next to her. For the majority of the ride back to town, Harry complained about having to leave Miss Mitchell behind.

“Uncle Will, why couldn’t she stay with us tonight?”

“Harry, I told you already, Miss Mitchell needs to gather her belongings.” Rolling his shoulders, Will realized he felt Harry’s frustration and then some. But there wasn’t much to be done about the fact that the schoolteacher’s relocation couldn’t happen tonight, so he urged the horse along, making a quick trip back to Heartston.

After leaving the wagon at the stable, he carried a half-asleep Minnie back to the Oliver house. Harry insisted on dragging his feet, making Will impatient.

“Harry, I need you to keep up with me.”

“I’m tired,” he complained, bumping into Will’s leg.

Blowing out a breath, Will forced himself to slow to Harry’s pace. “We’re almost to the house now.”

Within minutes they were climbing the steps to the front porch. Opening the front door, Will set Minnie down inside the parlor. He waited for Harry to join them, then firmly closed the door behind them all.

“Let’s get settled for the night.” Ushering them up the stairs to the second floor, Will attempted to lead them into the room he and Miss Mitchell had decided would be the most suitable for the children. But it seemed both of them had other plans.

“We don’t want to sleep in there, Uncle Will. Minnie is afraid of the dark.”

“You were perfectly fine last night in the room we slept in.”

“That’s because you were with us in the same room, Uncle Will.”

Stepping into the room where the bed had been made up earlier by Miss Mitchell, Will found a lamp on the dresser and, striking a match, lit it, setting the flame to high. The light cast long shadows into the room. Minnie latched on to his pant leg, trembling.

“Look, you’ll be fine in here. I’ll be right across the hallway if you need anything. I promise I’ll hear you if you call out.”

Harry shook his head while Minnie sucked her thumb. Will wasn’t cut out for parenthood. He’d never wanted to be a father. He was a loner. It was the reason he made a good Pinkerton agent; he had no one waiting for him, depending on him to return. Looking up at the ceiling, he wondered what he was supposed to do with the children. They needed to get some sleep. He also needed to get a decent night’s rest.

Doing the only thing he could think of, Will led them across the hallway to his bedroom. “Get yourselves up in that bed,” he said, unable to keep the gruffness out of his voice.