Love in Disguise (13 page)

Keeping half her attention on the preacher’s comments, she shifted her gaze and examined each face within her range of vision for any sign of shiftiness or guilt. Every person in the sanctuary seemed focused on Pastor Blaylock’s discourse on the importance of integrity in the life of a Christian.

Fiddlesticks!
She should have known none of these people could be suspects. Would anyone so unethical spend Sunday morning in a church service?

What about you?
An inner voice prodded at her.
Aren’t you using it as a cover yourself?

Hmm.
The voice had a point. What better way to avert suspicion than to appear upright and guileless? Ellie tucked that thought away for future consideration.

Pastor Blaylock ended his oration with a fervent prayer that God would “move each one of us to examine our own hearts as the psalmist did, asking you, dear Lord, to see if there be any wicked way in us, to shine your light into the darkness of our innermost beings and root out any evil there. And let us give ourselves to you, as the boy in John six gave his loaves and fishes for your use. Let us repent of anything that displeases you and live lives worthy of your calling before we stand before your judgment seat.”

A ripple of discomfort trickled its way down Ellie’s spine. If only he had left out that last part. The sermon had been far different than the fiery bombast she had expected. Instead, the minister had portrayed God more as a loving father than a disapproving judge. Then he had to go and spoil it all by bringing in the notion of a final judgment. Too bad—she had rather enjoyed his message up to that point.

Ellie gathered up her reticule and stood when Steven and the others did. She moved down the aisle at his side, stopping when he did to greet people and appreciating the fact that he never failed to introduce her to each person he spoke to. Now she had an opening to speak to any of them should she encounter them on the street. If for no other reason than that, she could count her morning well spent.

Pastor Blaylock stood at the back of the sanctuary, shaking hands with each departing parishioner. His face lit up when Ellie approached. “Ah, it’s always nice to welcome a new visitor to the house of the Lord.”

Ellie took in his smile and the look of sincerity in his eyes. Heavens, he actually meant it. Her own smile widened in response, and she gave his hand a warm squeeze. “Thank you. It’s good to be here.”

“I hope we’ll see you again.”

“I’m sure you will,” Ellie said, surprised to find she was truly looking forward to her next visit.

When they stepped outside, Steven set his hat on his head and turned to her with an apologetic expression. “I’d planned to discuss the mine with you today, but I’m afraid I’ll have to take my leave as soon as I escort you home. A meeting of the mine owners has been called for this afternoon, and I need to hurry to be there on time.” A rueful smile twisted his lips. “Since we’re meeting at my office, it wouldn’t do for me to be late.”

Ellie responded with a gracious wave of her hand. “No matter. We can discuss this again at a later time.” A sudden idea struck her—being introduced to the other mine owners would be an opportunity she couldn’t afford to pass up. “On the other hand, would you think it utterly presumptuous of me to invite myself to your meeting?” She saw the doubt in his eyes and hurried on before he could voice an objection. “It would be such a help to me to get acquainted with some of the other owners and know who else is doing business here. That’s something I learned from my late husband.”

Steven opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. “I may have misled you by calling it a meeting. It isn’t anything formal. We’re just getting together to discuss the thefts and try to come up with some new ideas.”

Ellie beamed. “All the more reason for me to be there. Since we’re standing against a common foe, I ought to get acquainted with our allies, and they with me, don’t you think?”

Steven’s trapped expression would have been enough to make her withdraw her request if she hadn’t been on a mission.

“But what about your lunch, Mrs. Stewart? I wouldn’t want you to miss a meal and become faint on my account.”

“Piffle, Mr. Pierce. Don’t treat me like some china ornament. I may appear fragile, but I assure you I am made of sterner stuff. If you think it necessary, we can stop at one of the eating establishments along the way and ask them to send over a light repast for everyone. Sandwiches, perhaps.” She clasped her hands. “It will be like having a picnic.”

Steven’s eyes took on a glazed look. When he spoke, the words sounded as if they were being choked out of him. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Mrs. Stewart. I’m sure everyone will appreciate it.”

Ellie kept a sharp eye out as they strolled the length of Fifth Street, watching for anyone who appeared suspicious or out of place. To keep the conversation from lagging, she said, “How nice of you to host this gathering. I take it the others see you as a leader of sorts?”

Steven chuckled. “No, I’m very much the greenhorn of the group. Most of the others have far more mining experience than I do. The reason we’re meeting at my office is that it’s the quietest place on Sunday. I don’t have my men work on the Sabbath as the others do, so we’re assured of having privacy.”

So he was a man of principle as well as one whose form and features would make any woman swoon. One who acted on his beliefs instead of just giving them lip service. That didn’t sound like the kind of man who would covet other men’s hard-earned goods.

At Ellie’s urging, they stopped at the Beck House on the corner of Fifth and Mill long enough to order lunch for the group, then continued on their way. One block farther south on Fifth Street, the town site came to an abrupt end. Tawny hills studded with gray-green shrubs and spiky cactus rolled out before them to the horizon.

Thinking about trekking across that rough landscape in her good shoes, Ellie paused and looked up at Steven. “I suppose I should have asked before, but where exactly is your mine?”

“We’re almost there. That’s my office.” He pointed to a nondescript building some fifty yards ahead.

“Oh, I see. And the mine itself would be . . . ?”

“The work is all done underground. The main entrance is on the other side of the office building. You’ll see it in a minute.”

Looking beyond the small wooden structure, Ellie could discern similar buildings scattered farther out among the hills, their weathered coloration blending into the landscape so neatly they were hardly discernible at first glance. She indicated them with a nod of her head. “And those?”

“Some of the other mines. Their owners are the ones we’re meeting with today.” Steven took a firm hold on her elbow and led her along a winding path.

Ellie refrained from asking any more questions, needing all her concentration to keep her footing on the rock-strewn trail.

“It looks like some of them are here already,” Steven said.

Ellie spotted a horse tied to a rail next to Steven’s office building. As they rounded the corner of the office, she saw three men lounging against the board-and-batten wall and two more squatting in what little shade was offered by a scrubby tree.

“Make that all of them,” Steven amended. The squatting men came to their feet, and all five stared as Ellie and Steven approached.

Steven fished a ring of keys from his pocket and jingled them in his fingers while he faced the group. “Good afternoon,
gentlemen
.”

Ellie shot a quick glance at the assembled men when he stressed the last word.

“Allow me to introduce Mrs. Lavinia Stewart from Chicago, recently arrived in Pickford for the purpose of making some investments. She has taken an interest in the Redemption, and she asked to accompany me here today to meet you and learn more about the challenges we’re facing.”

“Hold on a minute.” A round-faced man with bright blue eyes and a red, bulbous nose stepped forward and hooked his thumbs in his front pockets. “You don’t mean you told her about . . . you know . . .”

“About the thefts?” Steven didn’t back down when the other man flinched and glared at him. “Yes, she’s aware of what’s been happening to our silver shipments. I know that isn’t something we wanted to make public, but I couldn’t see any way to get around it, under the circumstances.”

The others seemed to share the round-faced man’s antagonism. The oldest of the group smoothed back his silver hair with the palm of one hand and faced Ellie directly. “This information is something that must be kept in strict confidence, not passed around town as a frivolous bit of gossip. Do you understand?”

Ellie bristled at his abrupt tone but managed a gracious smile. “Of course.”

A man with thick, beetling black eyebrows and one eye that looked off in a different direction than its fellow focused his left eye on Ellie and tipped his hat. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. I’m Ezra Winslow, owner of the Jubilee.” He looked down, frowned, and swatted at his sleeve. A cloud of dust rose into the air. “We wasn’t expecting feminine company today, or I would have spruced up a bit.”

Ellie extended her hand and clasped his fingers, grateful for the welcome.

“Are you stayin’ at the hotel?” Ezra asked.

Ellie smiled. “No, I plan to be in Pickford for some time. I’ve taken a little house in town—I believe it’s known as the Cooper place.”

The silver-haired man jerked to attention at the mention of the house. “I’d heard the house had been rented out. You’re the one who’s staying there?”

“Why, yes,” Ellie answered, wondering at his sudden interest. “It’s quite comfortable.” She turned her attention back to Ezra Winslow, whose face glowed like a western sunset.

“I know where that house is,” he said. “You ever need anyone to show you around town, you just let me know. I’ll be happy to squire you around.”

Ellie smiled and dipped her head, grateful when Steven broke into the conversation.

“Let me introduce the others.” He indicated the older man, who measured Ellie with a thoughtful stare. “This is Tom Sullivan. The Constitution Mine is his largest holding, but he actually owns several claims and other properties in the area.”

Mr. Sullivan ducked his snowy head in brusque acknowledgment. He reached for the hand Ellie offered but barely brushed her fingers before letting his arm fall back to his side.

Steven motioned toward the remaining men. “And here we have Brady Andrews, Alfred Clay, and Gilbert Owens.”

The red-nosed man he identified as Brady Andrews shifted a silver flask from his right hand to his left before reaching for Ellie’s outstretched fingers. She caught a whiff of alcohol on his breath when he leaned forward to greet her.

Gilbert Owens followed suit. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

Alfred Clay stayed where he was, arms folded tightly across his chest. “I thought this was supposed to be a meeting, not some Sunday school picnic.”

Steven’s face reddened, but he refrained from commenting. He unlocked the door and waved everyone inside. Ellie studied Alfred Clay as she took the seat Gilbert Owens pulled out for her, imagining what she would write about the surly miner in her notes that night.

Steven turned to address the men, facing squarely toward Alfred Clay. “If Mrs. Stewart is willing to invest in the Redemption, I thought it only fair for her to be apprised of what’s been going on.”

“The damage is already done. Nothing we can do about it now.” Tom Sullivan sent a sour look in Ellie’s direction, then leaned back against the desk and rapped his knuckles on its smooth surface. “Let’s get started.”

He looked at Steven. “Have you heard anything from the Pinkerton Agency?”

Ellie straightened in her chair and laced her fingers together, keeping her gaze on Steven’s face.

He shook his head. “Nothing since that letter saying they’d be willing to look into matters here.”

“When?” Ezra Winslow asked. “It’s been weeks since we got that letter and sent them a deposit.”

“A retainer fee,” Tom corrected. He stroked his thumb along his chin. “Yes, it does seem like we should have heard something more by now.”

Alfred Clay narrowed his eyes. “I’ve been watching out for an agent. We’ve got new folks showing up in town all the time, but I haven’t spotted anyone who looks like they’ve been snooping around.”

Ellie’s mouth went dry, and her breath quickened. She forced herself to take deep, slow breaths. Clay’s comment wasn’t any reason to get flustered. Her plan was operating smoothly. Everyone expected women of a certain age to be curious. It was obvious from the reactions of the men in this room that no one suspected her of being the Pinkerton operative.

Clay smacked his fist against his denim-clad thigh. “What are we paying them for if they’re just going to drag their heels? Every day that goes by means we’re losing time, which means we’re losing money.”

“I have to admit Alfred has a point.” Brady Andrews raised the flask to his lips, then caught sight of Ellie watching him and lowered it regretfully. “Just need a little hair of the dog after last night,” he muttered. “I’m barely gettin’ around today.”

Ezra stared at Tom. Or maybe at a spot across the room—Ellie couldn’t quite tell which. “What if we hire a bunch of guards, maybe some of those toughs that hang out over in Tombstone?”