To Know Her by Name (2 page)

1

Boulder, Colorado
April 1878

Travis Buchanan came from the post office, a stack of correspondence in his hand. As he walked toward the wagon, which was already loaded and ready for home, one of the letters caught his attention. He stopped and read, his eyes studying the signature at the bottom before continuing down the street.

His wife, Rebecca, was expecting him home, but suddenly Travis decided that he had to look into this. He climbed onto the wagon seat, turned the team around, and headed farther down the street. He stopped in front of the Boulder Hotel and jumped down to go inside.

“Well, hello, Travis,” Mel Doyle, the hotel's proprietor, greeted him.

“Hi, Mel. How's business?”

“Busy, but no complaints.”

Travis smiled. “Have you got someone registered by the name of McKay?”

He consulted the register. “We surely do. Room 14.”

“Thanks, Mel. I'll head on up.”

Travis' long legs took the stairs two at a time, his mind busy as to who this man could be, or if he'd ever seen him before. He didn't have long to speculate. No more than a few seconds after he knocked, the door to room 14 opened.

“Mr. McKay?” Travis questioned the man inside the room. He received a kind smile.

“Actually, it's Harrington. McKay Harrington. You must be Travis Buchanan.”

“Yes. You left a letter for me at the post office?”

“I did. Thank you for coming up. Won't you come in?”

Travis stepped inside, not planning to stay overly long, but finding himself fascinated. He moved across the threshold and turned to study the man.

McKay Harrington wasn't as tall as Travis' 6'4" frame, but Travis guessed him to be very close to 6'. His hair was dark and his face clean-shaven, a squared-off jaw giving him a stubborn look. The eyes he turned to Travis were warm brown, friendly, and open. He dressed in a combination of styles—riding boots and denim jeans, with a dress jacket lying across the bed and a string tie hanging loosely below the collar of his crisp white dress shirt. Travis took all of this in in a moment, knowing that at the same time he was being measured as well.

Finally Travis asked, “Have we met?”

“No, we haven't. I work for the treasury department based in Denver, and I'm here in town on business. Your name was given to me as a possible contact for this area.”

Travis' brows rose slightly. “But I've never done any work for the treasury department.”

“That doesn't matter. Your name was given to me because of your reputation in this town. I was told that even if you can't give me the information I seek, you would stay quiet about our meeting.”

Travis was intrigued but didn't forget the time. The men talked for a moment longer, McKay briefly explaining what he had in mind. Travis would not be overly involved. Still he did not give an answer. Instead he agreed to get back to the treasury man. They shook hands, and Travis swiftly made his way from the hotel. He was already later than he told Rebecca he would be.

“Is everything all right?” Rebecca asked when she saw him. Travis smiled. At one time their marriage had been anything but a loving partnership, but it had grown so that even if he were only preoccupied, she noticed.

“Yes, everything is fine, but I met someone in town,” Travis said, aware of their twin sons playing on the floor. “I'll tell you about it later.”

Rebecca let it go, but as soon as the boys were in bed and she and Travis were settled in the living room, she looked at him. He smiled, knowing what was on her mind.

“Was there something you wanted to talk about tonight?” he asked innocently.

Rebecca knew that to laugh or even smile would encourage him to tease her more, but she couldn't seem to help herself. Travis saw that smile, even though it didn't reach her mouth, and leaned over to pull her very close.

“Whom did you meet in town?” she asked when she was comfortable against him.

“It was a treasury man, but I don't think I'll tell you his name right now.”

Rebecca now shifted and looked at him. “That was cryptic.”

“It was, wasn't it?” Travis admitted. “I was contacted by this man from the treasury department today about some work he wants to do in this area. I didn't have time to question him thoroughly, but he wanted to meet me in the morning.”

“Did you agree?”

“No, I told him I had church and would get back to him. He'll be around until Tuesday.”

“What will you do—have him come out here?”

Travis' hand spread on the swell of his wife's stomach, and he pulled her a little closer. Their baby was due in just three months. His mind also went to the little six-year-old boys sleeping upstairs.

“No,” he told her. “Not now and maybe never if I don't get the answers I need.”

“So you think it might be something dangerous.”

Travis kissed her temple. “I just don't know. He didn't make it sound that way. I will tell you this: I was very impressed with him and would help if I could, but how that would come about at this point is any man's guess.”

They were quiet for a time, and then Rebecca said softly, “Boulder
is
growing, Travis. I'm sure it's because of our new statehood, but along with the growth, crime has stepped up. I heard a woman in the hardware store this week. She says it's the alcohol. Did you know there are ten saloons in Boulder? Now I ask you, Travis, why does any town, especially one with less than 3000 residents, need ten saloons?”

“I certainly agree with you, but growth is not all bad.”

“No,” she agreed swiftly. “The paper just said that the university will be ready to open in the fall, and the new building going on all over town is wonderful. Boulder is turning into a beautiful place. But it still wouldn't surprise me if your mystery man is here to investigate crime.”

Travis stared at her. It was an excellent point. She was probably right. And if that was the case, did he want his family involved at all?

“I must have gotten you to thinking.”

“Yes, you have,” Travis admitted. “But I still don't have any solid conclusions.”

“Well, how could you? You don't really know anything.”

Travis stared at her, a tender light in his eyes.

“You're certainly full of answers tonight, Mrs. Buchanan.”

Rebecca smiled contentedly and snuggled a little closer to him. The conversation shifted to the day and how the boys had behaved for her. At one point Travis scolded her for not lying down to take a rest, but Rebecca continued to lay comfortably in her husband's arms until it was time to head upstairs for the night.

On Sunday morning McKay Harrington slipped into the rear pew of the church and almost immediately spotted Travis Buchanan; he was sitting with two little boys. McKay prayed that the man would not take overdue notice of him and made himself comfortable as the service got underway. He stood for the singing and bowed his head for the prayer, but his mind was elsewhere.

McKay didn't care for this new assignment. Tracking down criminals and bringing them to justice was nothing new to him—he'd been at it for years. He just liked knowing everything before he started out. This time it hadn't been possible. He'd been ordered to move and move swiftly. Govern Hackett had eluded them once again, and this time McKay's superiors were angry. They didn't really want Govern, or his brother, Jubal, but they suspected that the Hackett brothers led to a much bigger fish, and he was the man the treasury department was after.

McKay's eyes went to the back of Travis Buchanan's head. What kind of help could he be? McKay knew from his report that Travis had lived here for years, but that didn't mean he could shed any light on the Hackett brothers. Indeed, if the truth be told, the brothers lived a very secretive life somewhere in the hills around Boulder. Their files didn't hold half as much about them as McKay's boss, Carlyle Crawford, would have liked.

“What is on your heart today? What is it that's weighing you down?” McKay suddenly heard the pastor ask, and realized he hadn't been attending at all. In the next few seconds he gave his case to the Lord and turned his heart toward the sermon.

“ ‘Casting all your care upon him, for he careth for you.' Now, isn't 1 Peter 5:7 a familiar verse? But have you looked around that verse? It's so easy to center on just that one, but look one verse above it to verse six. ‘Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time.'

“How do we humble ourselves before God? Again I quote verse seven to you and add one word, ‘
By
casting all your care upon him, for he careth for you.' Did you catch it, my friend? Is your heart humble before God? It is if you've given your anxiety to Him, if you're trusting Him completely for every aspect of your life.”

McKay had to keep himself from smiling. He certainly had
not
been casting his cares upon the Lord. He'd been worrying over them and carrying them around with him like a burdensome satchel. The pastor continued, but McKay's head remained bent as he studied the verses in the small Bible he'd brought with him. He had committed verse seven to memory as a child, but had not automatically put verse six with it. He worked at doing so now. In fact, he was so intent on his task that he nearly missed the end of the service. He was eager to hear the pastor's closing remarks, but he needed to be on his way before he attracted too much attention, and that meant not milling around after the last song. When the congregation stood to sing the closing hymn, McKay slipped out the door and made his way down the street to his hotel. It would have been nice to fellowship with some of the other people in church, but having to skip that was part of his job.

The rest of the day was spent wandering around town, looking like any other person on the street, but McKay was mentally collecting information to be documented once he was back in his room. He slept well that night, with plans to check some leads on Monday, including Travis Buchanan. McKay's family lived in nearby Longmont, and he planned to go to see them first thing Tuesday morning. However, there was a telegram for him at the hotel desk when he went downstairs on Monday. Clearly from his boss, the message was a bit hard to grasp, but McKay thought he understood. He also thought he might have to put off the trip to see his family. The telegram was the very lead for which he'd been looking.