Love in Disguise (39 page)

“What’s going to happen to me?” Donald’s voice broke the uncomfortable silence. “I finally got up the nerve to call it quits tonight, but that doesn’t take away the wrong of what I’ve done. But I can’t bear the thought of them taking me away from Myra. Who’ll take care of her if I’m not around?”

“That isn’t for me to decide,” Steven said. “But I’d say your decision to quit them and the way you helped us escape ought to count for something. I’ll be glad to put in a good word for you with Judge Spicer. If you’re willing to testify against the others, that should go in your favor, as well.”

Donald clasped his hands together. “I’ll tell them everything I know. The devil led me down the wrong path, but I’ve learned my lesson.”

“In that case, let’s go wake up Marshal Bascomb. We’ve got some thieves to catch.”

“Bascomb?” Ellie stiffened at the mention of the lawman’s name. “What makes you think we can trust him?”

Steven’s teeth gleamed in the moonlight, and his smile told Ellie he was recovering from the double blow he’d received. “Under ordinary circumstances, I’d share your doubts. However, I happen to know that Tom Sullivan did everything he could to block Bascomb’s appointment as marshal. Believe me, there is no love lost between those two. Bascomb will go after Tom like a cat after a mouse.”

“Tom didn’t act alone,” Ellie said. “What about the others?”

Steven chuckled. “Unless I’m sadly mistaken, Tom will turn on the rest of his gang and sing like a canary. Especially if he thinks it will make him look better in the judge’s eyes.”

He slipped his arm around her and pulled her close to his side. “This nightmare is finally over. Do you want to go with Donald and me while we talk to Bascomb, or would you rather I see you home first?”

No sooner had he spoken the words than his expression changed. He loosened his arm and drew back, looking at Ellie as if trying to bring her into focus. “Wait a minute. What you said earlier . . .”

Ellie’s mouth went dry.

“
You’re
the Pinkerton agent?”

“Yes.” The word came out as a barely audible sigh.

He moved away another step, sending her fragile hope plummeting again. “In that case, I guess this is your show now. You have even more right to get the law involved than I do.”

Ellie stared at him across what seemed like a great chasm, although only a few feet separated them.

Steven was right. The case was over, the mystery solved. She had finished the job she had come to do.

His nightmare had finally ended.

And hers had begun.

31

S
teven stood beside his foreman and watched a small procession of heavily loaded wagons start off toward Benson, flanked by a contingent of armed men.

Milt Strickland tipped his hat down over his eyes to block the noonday sun. “Do you think they’ll have any trouble getting through this time, boss?”

“I think we’re past our problems on that score.” Steven looked around at the other mine owners assembled nearby. The hope on their faces reflected his own. “But I know I’ll breathe easier once I’m sure it’s on the train bound for New Orleans.”

They watched a few minutes more, then turned back toward the mine. It didn’t take them long to reach the south edge of town and walk to the Redemption.

Steven stopped at the door to his office while Milt headed for the mine entrance. “Make sure the men know we won’t be scrimping on supplies anymore. I’ll be ordering new drill steels and stocking up on plenty of candles and dynamite before the day is out. We ought to be back up to full production in no time.”

Milt grinned. “It’ll be good to see things get back to normal.”

Steven went inside his office, where a stack of paperwork awaited him. He sank into his chair, ignoring the pile of papers on his desk, and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Normal” had a nice sound to it. It was a shame he wasn’t sure what that meant anymore.

Nothing had seemed normal since the silver thefts began. Since financial troubles started keeping him awake at night.

Since Jessie Monroe walked into his life and turned it upside down.

He shoved the papers to one side and rested his forehead on the heels of his hands. If the weeks of frustration and worry seemed chaotic, the past two days had turned his life into a whirlwind with Steven caught squarely in its vortex. Jessie’s revelation about being a Pinkerton agent had been stunning enough, but her insistence that she wasn’t even the woman he knew as Jessie Monroe had knocked the props right out from under him.

Did it matter if she used a different name?
“A rose by any other name . . .”
The line from Shakespeare brought a slight smile to his lips. Why did she seem to think the use of an alias amounted to so much? She had already stolen his heart. What she called herself didn’t make one bit of difference to him.

Pushing away from the desk, he got to his feet and paced the office floor. If only he could talk to her, he knew they could work out whatever problems she thought existed between them. But he hadn’t seen a trace of her since the night of their narrow escape.

He paused at the window and looked back toward Pickford. After filling Bascomb in on what had happened, he’d escorted Jessie home before setting out with the lawman to confront Tom Sullivan. True to his prediction, the gang’s ringleader named every one of his confederates in an attempt to ingratiate himself with the law. Several others had already been caught, Marvin Long among them, and Bascomb expected to have the rest in custody within the week.

Recovering the silver and knowing his financial troubles were over should have left him riding high on elation instead of fighting the sense of emptiness that gnawed at him.

In between parceling the silver out to the rightful owners and arranging for it to be shipped to New Orleans, he’d gone to the house at the corner of Charles and Second to straighten things out. But no one responded to his knocks on the door, or to the heavy hammering he’d employed when polite taps didn’t work.

And that left him with a new worry. Jessie—Ellie, he reminded himself—planned to go back to Chicago. Had she already left, without a word of good-bye? When he approached Brent Howard, the station agent told him she hadn’t left town on the stage. So where could she be?

Steven pounded his fist against the wall, wishing the pain in his knuckles could take away the ache in his heart. He had his silver back, but she was gone. After all was said and done, it astonished him how little the recovery of the silver mattered in comparison to losing the woman he loved.

Another thought occurred to him, one that filled him with dread. She had shown herself to be a highly skilled actress, convincing him and everyone else in Pickford she was a high-spirited young woman—and an aged woman— rather than a skilled detective.

Had the connection between them been a part of the act, as well?

She had avoided him after the fire, when he’d brushed her lips with his. Now it seemed she was avoiding him again. A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Maybe her attraction to him had been an act.

Pulling his wayward emotions under control, he returned to his desk and squared the papers into a neat pile. He looked at the top sheet and reached for his pen. It was time to stop acting like an infatuated schoolboy.

Ellie looked around the parlor of her little house, ticking items off her mental checklist. Had she missed anything? Her trunk sat open near the front door, with the wicker costume hamper alongside. The hamper and its contents had served her well during her stay in Pickford. There were still more items in its depths that she hadn’t had occasion to use yet, but they might come in handy in her future cases.

After her telegram informing the Pinkertons that the gang of robbers had been identified and the leader was already in the custody of the law, a flurry of jubilant wires ensued, giving Amos Crawford enough fodder to keep the town gossip mill churning away for the next six months.

Along with their hearty congratulations, Gates and Fleming made it clear that her future employment was assured for as long as she wanted to remain with the agency. Ellie’s lips twisted in a wry smile. At least she had that bittersweet victory for comfort.

She had packed her bags and tidied the house in preparation for catching the afternoon stage to Benson. There she would board the train for Chicago, where—judging from Fleming’s response—she could expect a hero’s welcome when she reached the home office.

Her time in Pickford had taught her one important thing. On future cases, she would be sure to keep her affections firmly under control. From this day forth, she would focus every bit of her attention on the case at hand and not let herself get caught up in the people involved. Losing Steven was the most painful thing she’d ever had to endure. Her heart would never bear that a second time.

She picked up her Bible from the marble-top table and laid it in the open trunk with care. Then she shut the lid and fastened the latch. One good thing that had come out of this tumultuous period in her life—her renewed relationship with God. No matter what she faced in the future, He would be there to strengthen her.

And wrestle with her from time to time when her will didn’t agree with His.

After the bouts they’d already had over the past day and a half, she felt sympathy for what Jacob must have gone through, grappling with that angel. As exhausted as she’d been when she arrived home in the wee hours following the ordeal in the cave, she found herself unable to sleep. Instead, she’d divided her time between making preparations for her departure and spending time on her knees, thanking God for leading her to the thieves.

For getting them out of the cave without mishap.

For the capture of Tom Sullivan and most of his gang.

She’d thought her outpouring of thanks would have been sufficient for the Almighty, but no—apparently there was something else He wanted of her, and that was when their wrestling match had commenced in earnest. After hours of arguing—and losing—her case, she rose from her knees, as stiff as Lavinia had ever been, knowing what she had to do.

It wasn’t enough that she’d brought Tom Sullivan’s thieving days to an end. Now it seemed God had one more thing for her to accomplish before she left Pickford. She had to make her peace with Steven Pierce. And not as Jessie or Lavinia this time.

Ellie still didn’t understand that part of the Lord’s directive, but she suspected it had something to do with the importance of integrity that Pastor Blaylock kept harping on. She supposed it only made sense. Going about in disguise seemed perfectly reasonable when it came to carrying out an investigation. She didn’t sense the Lord taking any exception to that.

The point where she’d gotten herself into trouble was when she let her character become entangled with Steven. She had played with fire, and they’d both been burned. She had no right to trifle with his emotions that way.

The man had fallen in love with a woman who didn’t exist. It was only right that she face him and try to make amends before she left. Much as she dreaded shattering his image of beautiful Jessie, he deserved to know the truth. Even if that meant seeing the disappointment in his eyes when he beheld her as herself.

She walked back into her bedroom and checked her appearance in the dressing table mirror. It seemed odd to see her own bland features looking back at her instead of Lavinia’s or Jessie’s. She poked at her mousy brown hair, wishing there was something she could do to make it more like Jessie’s copper ringlets.

Ellie wrinkled her nose at the reflection. Her features were regular enough, but they held nothing of Jessie’s sparkle and verve. She pinched her cheeks to bring out a bit of color and watched the pink tinge fade almost as quickly as it appeared. A sigh escaped her lips. She would just have to go the way she was.

She walked out to the front porch and shut the door behind her, ready to step out onto the streets of Pickford as Ellie Moore for the very first time.

Walking down Second to Grant at a leisurely pace, she nodded to people as she passed by. Most of them returned her greeting, but they were nods of politeness rather than recognition, accompanied by the mild curiosity shown toward any newcomer.

Ellie stopped when she reached the south edge of town and gazed out over the desert, remembering the way it had looked bathed in moonlight during her pursuit of Marvin Long two nights before. Then the moon’s glow had softened the landscape, but today the view was stark and barren in the noonday sun.

She picked up her pace as she walked the now familiar path to the mine office. She had timed her visit carefully, allowing herself just long enough for her revelation to Steven before making a hasty exit in time to catch the stage. There was no point in prolonging the agony for either of them.

At the door to Steven’s office, she paused with her hand on the door latch and looked over toward the Constitution. God had delivered the three of them from what seemed like certain death in the cave, just as He had delivered Daniel from the lions’ den. She hoped the Lord was still in a delivering mood today. At the moment, facing Steven seemed a lot more worrisome than confronting a group of hungry lions.