A Reinvented Lady (Sons Of A Gun Book 2)

by Brenda Sinclair

  Chapter 25

  Daniel smiled at Carl who was waiting for the obvious answer to his question. “Keep it in the bank,” Daniel and Harold answered in unison.

  “Excellent suggestion. I’ll talk to you gentlemen later.” Carl exited through the front door and Harold locked it again behind him.

  “We’ll lock this extra cash in a separate drawer in the vault until the law decides what will become of it,” Harold decided.

  “Sounds good to me.” Daniel helped place the organized stacks into larger piles while Harold counted out the twenty thousand.

  “This I’ll place in a separate drawer, as an accounting for the bank owners.” Harold transferred the bank’s money first. When he returned, Daniel helped carry the rest of the money into the vault.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  Harold met his eyes. “Sure. Anything.”

  “Don’t you get a little nervous handling all this cash?” Daniel stood back while Harold locked up the compartments.

  “Not really. I owned several businesses back East and we handled large sums quite often.” Harold chuckled. “After a while, it’s just paper. Valuable paper, but just paper nonetheless.”

  Daniel chuckled. “I’d be a nervous wreck. Being responsible for all of it.”

  “Well, it’s safely stashed away now, so you can relax and enjoy the rest of your day.” Harold slapped him on the back. “Thank you for your part in protecting the bank. I almost cheered when you knocked that young fellow over the head and I spotted him out cold on the floor.”

  “One down.”

  “One to go,” Harold finished in unison with him. He shook his hand. “I’m pleased with your efficiency and Mrs. Landers is a wonder. I thought my old eyes were imaging things when she pulled out her derringer and shot the old fellow.”

  “That I hadn’t figured on.” Daniel laughed. “Never know who’s going to help out in an emergency.”

  “Glad she’s in our corner.”

  “Well, I’m heading to the jailhouse and see what, if anything, they’ve learned from Shorty.” Daniel shook his head. “Don’t know what’s ailing him, but they’d better get some answers while they can. Just in case.”

  “He did appear ailing all right.”

  “I reckon he’s not contagious.” Daniel grabbed his Stetson. “Probably just a good case of influenza. But you never know.”

  “Give me a second and I’ll walk you out.” Harold doused the oil lamp they’d been using, throwing the bank into almost total darkness.

  Daniel squinted at the wall clock indicating almost six o’clock and then followed the bank manager outside.

  “I’ve had enough excitement for one day.” Harold locked the bank doors behind him.

  “It’s been fun,” Daniel teased.

  “I’ll drop over next door and walk Nancy home. Just in case some of those depraved fellows are walking the streets tonight.” Harold chuckled and winked at Daniel.

  He smiled at the joke. “Can’t be too careful.”

  “Take care of yourself, son,” Harold called as he headed off.

  “Will do. Say hi to the ladies for me.” Daniel had arranged for one of the other deputies to drop Honor at the livery for the day, so he walked down Main Street toward the jailhouse.

  After a short, pleasant walk which helped blow the cobwebs out of his brain, he strode into the jailhouse and hooked his Stetson on a peg by the door. Carl sat at his desk, rifling through a pile of papers.

  “Did Sawyer learn anything of importance from Shorty?” Daniel poured himself a cup of coffee resembling the consistency of mud.

  “He saw Doc and he’s in a cell now. We learned a few things,” Carl muttered.

  Daniel topped up Carl’s coffee and returned the pot to the back burner on the woodstove. Then he slumped onto the seat in front of his boss. Every bone ached, more from the day’s stresses than actual work. He heaved a sigh and took a sip of the brew, grimacing. “You ever going to learn how to make a decent cup of coffee?”

  Carl looked up, grabbed his coffee mug, and saluted Daniel. “And deprive you of something to complain about?”

  Daniel chuckled. “So what do we know that’s new?”

  “Shorty claims Fred’s his uncle.”

  “I heard him call the old man Uncle Fred during the holdup.”

  “Shorty’s been looking out for the old guy since his pa, Fred’s brother, died.” Carl sipped his coffee and leaned back in his chair. “Shorty informed us that they planned this last job before heading to Texas for the winter. Warmer climate and all that. He complained that they’d been holed up in some cave a mile or so out of town where he caught a chill and figured he was dying a day ago. Seems he’s improving.”

  Daniel laughed. “If that’s improving, I’d hate to have seen him before.”

  Carl waved his hand, dismissively. “Doc assured me he was probably concussed thanks to you, and he’s suffering from influenza. Nothing too serious, hopefully.”

  “That’s a relief. With that nasty cough, consumption came to mind.” Daniel leaned back in his chair. “What else did you learn? Any mention of where they got all that money?”

  Carl burst into laughter. “Now that’s another matter. Seems old Fred never shared their financial situation with his nephew. Shorty almost came through the bars when I informed him how much money we found in the old man’s saddlebag.”

  Daniel tipped his head. “How do you mean?”

  “Seems Fred entrusted Shorty with the twenty thousand they got during the last robbery in Milestone. Or what was left of it after Shorty insisted they purchase some new duds and warmer bedrolls and blankets. Not that the latter appears to have benefitted him much.” Carl set his mug on the desk and tented his fingers. “As we know from the counting, Fred’s saddlebag held most of the funds. Money which Shorty claims Fred earned, I’m using that term loosely, by robbing folks on the road on moonless evenings and while playing… no I misspoke again. While he was cheating at cards.”

  “So his uncle was feathering his own nest but not fessing up to his winnings,” Daniel suggested. He recalled the fellow responsible for a recent kidnapping had claimed he’d been robbed on the road. Would be pure coincidence if some of this money was his. But after what he’d done, and considering he’d be in prison for years, he reckoned there was no sense in mentioning the possibility.

  “Shorty had no idea the old man had so much cash on him. Cussed a blue streak about sleeping under the stars instead of getting a hotel room because his uncle claimed they hadn’t the funds to pay for it. Shorty probably would have knocked Fred over the head, stolen his share and lit out for Texas, if he’d known. Would have completely refused to risk robbing the bank again.”

  Daniel nodded. “Could be. The fool wasn’t even armed. Who robs a bank without carrying a gun?”

  Carl threw up his hands. “Takes all kinds, as my ma used to say.”

  “We’ll probably need a judge to decide what we should do with that money.”

  Carl looked at him.

  “What?” Daniel worried that he’d said something out of turn.

  “I know what I’d like to do with it.” Carl shifted in his chair. “Or at least with some of it.”

  For a moment, Daniel considered what options his boss might have in mind. And then he smiled. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “Depends.”

  “Are you figuring a certain widow who lost her husband during the first robbery deserves some fiscal restitution?” Sawyer answered, stepping into the room from the cell area.

  Carl and Daniel swiveled on their seats.

  “Actually, yes,” Carl replied.

  Daniel nodded. “My thoughts exactly.”

  “Don’t know as we need a judge to determine the disposition of those funds.” Sawyer poured himself a cup of coffee and took a sip. “I’m actually getting used to this stuff.”

  Carl scoffed. “Not you, too.”

  Daniel chuckled.

&nb
sp; “So we could give Mrs. Cameron some of the money. With a little girl to raise, she could probably use a few extra dollars.” Carl pointed at Daniel. “Of course, Nancy’s working for Amanda now.”

  Daniel nodded. “Those earnings will keep her in grub and clothes. Won’t mend the roof on her house next time it starts to leak.”

  “Carl tells me you found almost thirty thousand dollars beyond the twenty thousand that the Milestone bank has now recovered.” Sawyer met eyes with both men in turn. “So if you figure Mr. Cameron would have lived another thirty years, that’s a thousand a year.”

  Daniel sat, arms crossed. “But who’s to say he couldn’t have gone into a business or been quite successful if given the opportunity to live out his life.”

  “Good point.” Sawyer paced the floor. “I’d like to give this more consideration before we decide anything.”

  “And we should rule out any possibility that we could return more funds to the owners.” Carl held up the handful of papers he’d been shuffling through when Daniel first walked into the jailhouse. “I’ve been going through these telegraphs I’ve received the past few months. Nothing leapt out at me, but I recalled a bank robbery in a town south of here. Sounded familiar and I found it. Here’s the key points… Robbed last week in May. $10,000 taken. Two men, one fifty or fifty-five and the other late twenties.” Carl looked at Sawyer. “Sound like anyone we know?”

  “If it was them, then we’ll return the money.” Sawyer took the sheet of paper and headed back to the cell area.

  “So now we’re down to twenty thousand,” Daniel muttered to himself. “There could be others out there.”

  “Let’s see what Shorty has to say about that ten first.”

  Sawyer returned a minute later. “Yeah, Shorty remembers them robbing this bank awhile back. Fred told Shorty that the clerk tricked them and they only got a few hundred dollars. Shorty’s in there cussing Fred three ways from Sunday again. Fred best stay at Doc’s until that ear mends or we’ll need to keep them in separate cells.”

  “Folks in this town will be tickled to hear they’re getting their money back.” Carl took the sheet from Sawyer. “I’ll send them a telegraph right away. I’ll have Jim take the money to them in a few days when word of this second robbery attempt wears off, and the town returns to normal.”

  Sawyer nodded. “I’ll go through these papers and see if I spot anything else.”

  “Need some help?” Daniel set his coffee mug in the washtub.

  “Not necessary. Go home and get some sleep. You look dead on your feet.” Carl waved him toward the door. “You’ve got rounds at ten o’clock tonight. I’ll need Jim to stay here and keep watch over the prisoner.”

  Daniel nodded. “All right. I’ll be back at ten o’clock.”

  “Sounds good.” Carl waved him out of the building.

  Daniel strode out the door, crossed the street, and headed for the livery to fetch Honor. The horse would probably have a few choice words for him, having been ignored all day. Daniel planned a couple side trips before making his way home, though. First, he needed to assure his sister that the robbery was thwarted and everything was fine. Then he’d drop by Mrs. Carter’s to talk with Iris about the day’s happenings before she heard nasty rumors or false reports from some other source like the local gossips. No doubt Mrs. Landers would have spread four different versions of what happened to anyone who’d listen by tomorrow morning.

  Then he planned to sleep until his evening shift started. Who knew foiling bank robberies could be so tiring? At least, the whole ordeal was firmly behind him now, and he wasn’t looking like a fool in anyone’s eyes because of it. Intuition definitely had a place in a Pinkerton’s repertoire, and he hoped his instincts would serve him equally well on every occasion.

  A good hunch just might keep him alive so he could grow old and gray with Iris.

  Chapter 26

  Iris stared out through the window in her classroom, watching the first snowflakes of the season gently drifting to earth. The temperatures plummeted overnight and on this mid-October day, winter had come knocking on Milestone’s door.

  Iris enjoyed the change of seasons, even when accompanied by frigid weather. As a child, she’d loved sledding on a hill or skating on a pond if one could be found in whatever town they’d landed in. She’d lost count of the number of places her family had called home while she grew up. She’d hated their time in California with the hot days of summer and no snow for Christmas. Her favorite had been Wyoming, but now Montana had won her heart, especially after falling in love with Daniel. She’d happily live here the rest of her days.

  With her lesson planning almost complete, she returned to her desk and slumped in the hardbacked chair, mulling over everything Daniel had shared with her yesterday. Her heart had been in her mouth as he described the scene in the bank after walking into the middle of a robbery. Despite her shock, she’d laughed when he described his surprise seeing Mrs. Landers and her little gun. Folks think they know someone. At least, the episode ended well for the lawmen. Especially Daniel. If he’d been hurt, or worse, she couldn’t imagine her heartache. But even if he’d been horribly maimed, she would have stood by and nursed him for the rest of his days. What else would you do for the man you loved?

  A loud knock on the schoolhouse door startled her. And then Daniel strode inside, smiling.

  “I’d hoped you were still here.”

  “Hello. This is a pleasant surprise.”

  “I can’t stay long. Still working on this darn horse thieving case. But I’d love to accompany you to supper at the hotel tonight, if you’re agreeable?” Daniel set his Stetson on the corner of her desk.

  Iris stood and extended her hands to him. “I would love to. It’s been ages since we’ve had the opportunity to eat a meal together.”

  “I know. But with the bank robbery solved, I intend to change that.” Daniel kissed her hands and then wrapped her in his arms. “Starting tonight.”

  “Thank you for inviting me to supper.”

  “Wear something warm. We’ll go for a short buggy ride after we eat.”

  Iris gasped. “I’d love a ride, bundled under warm quilts, with the snowflakes drifting down from the heavens.”

  Daniel laughed. “I reckoned you would. You mentioned loving winter awhile back.”

  “Do you remember everything I say?” She peeked up at him.

  “Every single word.” Daniel bobbed his eyebrows. “Could come in useful one day.”

  “Daniel McLennon, a gentleman would never use a lady’s words against her.” Iris swatted his arm, playfully.

  Daniel stuck his Stetson on. “I was thinking more along the lines of recalling ideas for gifts and such.”

  Iris felt her face redden. “I should have known better. Of course, you’d be considering only positive thoughts.”

  “I’ll pick you up at Mrs. Carter’s house at six.” He headed for the door. “Don’t forget that warm coat.”

  Iris waved and slumped back into her chair when he closed the door behind him.

  Warm coat? She hadn’t purchased a coat, relying on her thick cloak for warmth all through autumn. What had she been thinking? Of course, she’d require a warm coat if she remained in Montana all winter. Perhaps Mrs. Carter would lend her a coat for tonight, and then she’d check what Ray Cochrane had in stock in the general store tomorrow. Or perhaps Amanda had something at the clothing emporium, although Iris didn’t recall her mentioning sewing coats and the like.

  She closed her lesson plan book and extinguished the oil lamp. Making her way carefully through the almost dark schoolhouse, she locked up and headed for home to change into one of her pretty new dresses, fix her hair, and wait for Daniel to pick her up for supper.

  Twenty minutes later, Iris arrived at Mrs. Carter’s back door, discovering it locked. She dug her key out of her reticule and entered the kitchen.

  “Is anyone home?” she called.

  “Hello, my pet. I’m in the parlor.�
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  Iris smiled hearing Mrs. Carter’s friendly greeting. Since the day she moved in, her landlady had treated her like family. She wandered into the parlor and stopped in her tracks. Six wooden boxes were lined up on the rag rug next to the piano. “What on earth is all this?”

  “I haven’t a clue! They arrived on the stagecoach today, addressed to Iris Lake, Town of Milestone, Montana Territory.” Mrs. Carter stood hands on hips. “I’ve been as curious as a four-year-old on Christmas morning, but I haven’t opened a one of them.”

  “Addressed to me? Who sent them?”

  “You’d know better than me.”

  “Well, I have no idea.” Iris touched the first box, mostly to ensure herself of its existence and she wasn’t dreaming. “Let’s open them!”

  Mrs. Carter burst into laughter. “Well, child, what else would you do with the lot of them?”

  Iris chuckled. “How will we pry them open?”

  Mrs. Carter grabbed a small iron bar off the sofa. “One step ahead of you, girl.”

  “How long have you been waiting for me to come home?”

  “About forty minutes,” Mrs. Carter admitted, her cheeks reddening. “Soon as I closed the bakery, I dashed home. When Ray dropped by the store for instructions this morning, I told him to drop them here. He locked up the house after himself in case someone had been watching him making the delivery.”

  “I wondered why the back door was locked. It seldom is.” Iris used the bar to pry up the nails on the first box. She set the bar down, took a deep breath, and then opened the lid. She gasped and then burst into tears.

  Mrs. Carter rushed to her side and wrapped her arms around Iris. “Oh, my goodness. What is it? I should never have had Ray bring them here.”

  Iris shook her head. “No, it’s good. If what’s in them all is what I think it is…” She met her landlady’s eyes. “It’s all my clothes! The ones I was forced to leave behind when I escaped from my father!”

  “But you told everyone your trunks were stolen.”

  “I had to lie.” Iris felt her face warming. “I couldn’t tell anyone that I’d left almost everything I owned behind while fleeing from a despicable father who’d been a criminal his entire life.”