Love in Disguise (6 page)

She tilted her head, then added, “They made a good choice. With your nondescript looks, you’ll be perfect at fading into the background. Nobody will even remember you were around.”

Ellie’s heart leapt up at the initial compliment, then plummeted at Norma’s casual dismissal of her appearance. Of course she was plain. Hadn’t she been told so all her life—by her parents, by Magdalena, by every director she had approached about casting her in even a non-speaking role?

She covered her wounded feelings with practiced indifference. “Tell me about the role you’ll be playing. I’ve worked out most of Lavinia’s history, but I’d like to know more about her relationship with her ‘niece.’ ”

Norma twisted a red curl around one gloved finger. “I planned to go as Jessie Monroe. That’s a name I’ve used on several occasions. But I came here to tell you—”

“Monroe should work,” Ellie murmured, committing the name to memory. “After all, Stewart is Lavinia’s married name, so she and Jessie wouldn’t have to share the same surname. Right?”

The curl sprang free from Norma’s finger and formed a perfect tendril along her creamy cheek. “True, but that doesn’t matter now. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

A sense of having heard these lines before swept over Ellie, and she tried to shake off the feelings of foreboding it evoked. Images of her last night in the Orpheum Theater flashed through her mind, leaving her breathless. An imminent journey and the anticipation of a grand adventure just ahead. Magdalena’s evasive behavior and the words “There’s something I—”

A feeling of doom rolled over her.
No, no, no!
This couldn’t be happening again. Ellie clenched her hands into fists within the folds of her skirt and searched Norma’s face, trying to reassure herself the other woman’s expression didn’t harbor a revelation that would shatter her hopes.

“I expected to head back to Chicago as soon as I wrapped up this last investigation. Without another female operative available, it looked like the home office was ready to turn down the Arizona case.”

Ellie nodded and forced her hands to unfold. Norma was only giving some personal background, trying to get acquainted and put her at ease. “Yes, that’s what I overheard the day I listened in on their conversation.” She laughed at Norma’s startled expression and quickly outlined the events that led up to her being hired.

One corner of Norma’s lips quirked upward. “In other words, you eavesdropped your way into a job? Very enterprising of you. You have the makings of a fine operative.”

“That’s my hope. In fact, they told me that if you think I show promise during our time together, they’ll consider keeping me on permanently.”

Norma’s look of amusement faded, and Ellie felt a knot form in her stomach. Taking Ellie by the arm, Norma led her over to a small nook formed by an upholstered wing chair and a potted plant. “That’s what I started to tell you. I had my bags packed, and I was ready to head back to Chicago when I got a wire from Gates saying they might have found another agent after all. They told me to stay put and wait for further instructions.”

Ellie nodded, trying to look as though she followed Norma’s line of thought, although she had no idea where the woman’s words might be headed.

“That was fine by me,” Norma went on. “Because I really didn’t want to leave. You see, during my investigation, I met Jack.” The last word came out on a sigh, and she cast a loving glance toward the man hovering near the coatrack.

“When he found out you would be arriving today, and that you and I were supposed to leave together on today’s evening train, he asked me to marry him. Just like that!” Norma snapped her fingers and laughed. Peeling the glove off her left hand, she held it up so Ellie could see the glittering band on her third finger. “We got married last night. Jack routed a preacher out of bed, and the poor man performed the ceremony right in his parlor.”

She pressed the ring to her lips and announced, “Norma Brooks is no more. I’m now Mrs. Jack Lawson.”

“Congratulations.” The word fell from Ellie’s lips like a stone while her mind tried to make sense of the bombshell Norma had just dropped. It took her a moment to collect her thoughts and realize the other woman was still speaking.

“I should have let the main office know, but it all happened so fast. By the time I got the wire telling me to meet you, you were already on your way. So I decided to wait and let you know when you arrived.”

“Are you saying your husband is coming with us?” And how would they explain a third person if he went along?

“No, I’m giving up the detective life for good.”

Ellie’s heart hammered against her chest. “You mean, after the Arizona job.”

Norma’s perfect lips formed a delicate pout. “I know it’s an awful thing to do, leaving you high and dry like this. I hope you can forgive me.”

Ellie studied Norma’s expression and sighed. Seeing the other woman’s unadulterated joy, how could she not find it in her heart to wish her happiness? “Of course,” she said, hoping her smile looked genuine.

Norma drew Ellie into a quick hug. “Thank you. I knew you had a kind face the moment I laid eyes on you. Now, I really must run.” She gestured toward her new groom, who stood checking his watch with a look of consternation. “Our train leaves in less than an hour. We’re going to New York for our honeymoon!”

She caught Ellie’s hands in hers. “Do me a favor and let the home office know, will you? I should do it myself, but there’s no time. If you’ll just tell them the basic facts, I’ll fill them in on the rest in a few days.”

Ellie nodded dumbly, and Norma flashed a radiant smile. “You’re a dear. I wish we could have gotten to know each other better.” She brushed a kiss on Ellie’s cheek and hurried off to join her husband.

Ellie stood in the dim lobby, wondering why she seemed fated to play the role of abandoned underling over and over again. Feeling the need to regain her equilibrium, she wandered back to the overstuffed chair and sat down again.

“Excuse me, miss.”

Ellie looked up to see the desk clerk’s priggish sneer. “It is against the policy of the Imperial Hotel to allow unescorted young women to loiter in the lobby. If you are not a guest, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave. Now.”

A wave of heat suffused Ellie’s face, and she glared at the odious man. Gathering up her reticule, she dragged the door open and left the lobby in a daze.

What now?
Despite Norma’s optimistic attitude, Ellie didn’t share the other woman’s assurance of her future employment. She had been a last resort on the mission, hardly anyone’s first choice. Without any training, there would be no reason for the Pinkertons to keep her on. They might not even feel obligated to fund her way back to Chicago.

Tears scalded Ellie’s eyes, and she swiped them away before they could roll down her cheeks. Would she want to go back even if they did? Nothing waited for her but bitter cold and likely starvation in Chicago . . . or anywhere.

Her steps dragged as she moved to cross the street and make her way back toward Union Depot. With every step, her pace grew slower, and her eyes blurred. An angry shout brought her to her senses, and she realized she had stopped in the middle of Pershing Road, right in the path of a smart-looking carriage. Appalled at her lack of attention, Ellie hastened to the other side of the street and heaved herself up onto the boardwalk in front of the telegraph office.

The sight of the Western Union sign reminded her of her promise to wire the home office with news of Norma’s sudden marriage. She might be on the brink of ruin, but she took pride in being a woman of her word. Lifting her chin and trying to stifle her tears, she marched into the brick building.

“I want to send a wire to Chicago.”

The bored-looking clerk pushed a form and a pencil across the counter to her.

Ellie rolled the pencil between her fingers, trying to decide how to word the message that would mean the end of her short-lived career. Was there a way she could phrase it that would make the Pinkertons more likely to keep her on? After all, they still needed to send someone to take up the investigation in Arizona, and she had already been briefed on the situation.

As she pondered the possibilities, a daring idea entered her mind. What if she went ahead as Lavinia Stewart? Gates and Fleming had given her the basic details of the case. How hard could it be for a well-to-do widow to pose a few questions here and there without raising suspicion? Maybe Jessie wasn’t as necessary as they thought.

Before she could change her mind, she gripped the pencil and scribbled a brief message to the code name and address Gates and Fleming had given her:

Henry Jeffers
112 Elm Street
Chicago, Illinois

Met Jessie. Leaving for Arizona as planned.

Lavinia

Ellie reviewed the words quickly. Maybe they didn’t spell out the whole truth, but they weren’t an out-and-out lie, either. She had met Norma, and she was leaving as planned. In a day or two, Norma would surely send them a wire of her own, but by then she hoped it would be too late to summon Ellie back.

She read the words once more and slid the paper back across the counter to the telegraph clerk.

6

P
ickford. All out!” The hoarse cry jarred Ellie out of her light doze, and she pushed the canvas window covering aside to verify that the stagecoach had, indeed, reached journey’s end. Outside, the sun shone warm from a deliciously clear blue sky, throwing the dusty streets and buildings of Pickford, Arizona Territory, into sharp relief.

The driver swung open the door and moved a wooden block into place, then held out a hand to his gray-haired passenger. “Here you are, ma’am, safe and sound. You watch your step now.”

Ellie found his caution more than an empty courtesy the moment she started to get to her feet and discovered that her limbs refused to move. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks as she scooted forward on the seat and tried once again to force her travel-stiffened legs to hold her upright.

The driver offered a look of sympathy. “Just take your time, ma’am. All that jostling along the way can take its toll on anybody. Give yourself a minute or two to loosen up.”

Jostling was far too mild a term to describe the unending jarring she had suffered in the six hours since leaving the train in Benson and boarding this infernal contraption. It was a wonder every bit of Lavinia’s padding hadn’t shaken loose and fallen onto the stagecoach floor. Trying not to let her mortification show, Ellie nodded and mentally counted to three, then reached for the driver with one hand and shoved herself off the seat with the other. The driver tightened his hold and stepped back, using Ellie’s momentum to pull her to her feet.

Ellie stood doubled over in the tight confines of the coach’s interior and commanded her legs to bear her weight, wishing the other passengers had disembarked first so as not to witness her awkward exit. After a few moments, strength returned to her lower limbs, and she eased herself down to the block and then to the street.

With the driver keeping a protective hold on her elbow, Ellie took a few tentative steps and breathed a sigh of relief when she found she was able to remain upright of her own accord.

Nodding her thanks to the driver, she tottered several paces away and pulled the dusty veil from her face, trying to get her bearings. Having read her share of Ned Buntline novels, she’d expected a rustic setting, but
rustic
didn’t begin to describe Pickford. She scanned the roughhewn structures along the main street in vain to find any edifice rising higher than two stories.

Only a few blocks away, the line of buildings ended abruptly, and the road opened onto . . . nothing. Ellie caught her breath as her gaze traveled on and on, taking in what seemed like miles of tawny, brush-covered desert. Behind that lay a backdrop of craggy, brown mountains. She had seen drawings of sand dunes in books, but these resembled them only in their basic shape. The deep folds and jutting peaks didn’t have the softness of sand. Instead, they appeared harsh, unforgiving.

Ellie shivered in spite of the midday warmth and tried to ignore the panic that welled up within her. She’d known better than to expect the comforts of city life in the far-flung reaches of the West. She had wanted adventure, hadn’t she? Well, there it was, right in front of her. If only it wasn’t quite so intimidating.

Visiting new places wasn’t such an adventure in itself. She’d done plenty of traveling with Magdalena, after all. But this was the Wild West, not an eastern city. And always before, her duties had been laid out for her. This was the first time she had found herself completely on her own.

Moreover, the sense of openness, the vast expanse of sky—the immensity of it all—made Ellie feel like a tiny, insignificant speck. And she didn’t like the feeling one bit.

She pivoted slowly, taking in the street lined with clapboard buildings and the emptiness beyond. A solitary mule tied to a rail outside a building bearing the sign
Johnson’s Mercantile
pawed at the ground, sending puffs of yellow dust into the air.

Ellie dragged in a quivering breath. It all seemed so barren, so raw. Would the people in this wild place match their surroundings? A tendril of fear trailed up her spine. Chicago had its share of rough-and-tumble politicians, shoulder-strikers, and the like, but there still existed some underlying vestige of law and order. What was she doing, thinking she could represent civilized behavior in this untamed place? Before she could help herself, her throat tightened, and a tear started to make its way down her cheek.

Ellie dashed the offending drop away with the back of her gloved hand. She had no time to indulge in self-pity. She had sought this position—wangled her way into it, in fact. And she had made the lengthy journey little the worse for wear, save for her stiff joints and sore body. They hadn’t been held up by bandits or attacked by Indians. Lifting her chin, she strode back toward the stagecoach.