“What?”
“Archie Gordon doesn’t send women agents into the field until they marry their partners. Your girl has obviously married someone else if they sent her on a mission, Rourke. She’s another agent’s wife.”
Rourke sat down hard on something and put his face in his hands as he pressed against each side of his pounding head. It was like there was a sudden roaring burst of pain in his mind that matched the ache in his heart. He knew Fallon had wanted to get married… but enough to marry a perfect stranger?
Didn’t she love him or care for him?
He couldn’t imagine his dark-haired wee wren smiling at another man or that sweet throaty laughter when something tickled her. No, it was like having his soul torn in two. She’d been central to his world this last year they’d known each other, and he knew she would always be there… but now she wasn’t?
“No,” he whispered aloud painfully, his mind racing.
There was no future for him without his Fallon.
The last two weeks she’d been gone, he’d hung on to the idea that she would wait for him each night when he got home… only to be disappointed repeatedly. That was the reason he’d sent the telegram. He couldn’t take it anymore and was trying to save face.
It was stupid and prideful of him. The amount of regret he felt now was nauseating. Fallon had always been headstrong, and he knew that—he loved that ferocity for life that burned in every fiber of her being. Pushing their marriage off had only driven her away—and he’d let her just go instead of chasing her… like a fool.
Rourke stared numbly down at his boots. The spats were his best pair of shoes and broken in comfortably. It was nothing to hook the buttons with a practiced flick of his wrist. He’d had these boots forever and intended to wear them until the soles were plumb gone… because he hated change.
It was part of the reason he hadn’t jumped at the opportunity to come here to Chicago when he’d first been offered the job. It was also the reason he’d pushed off marrying Fallon. It scared him things would be different for them, that they would change. He liked where they had been in their relationship. It was easy to love her and he hadn’t felt a rush to make any changes. If they married, then the next step would be children and that scared him to death.
Except losing Fallon terrified him.
“I’m leaving,” Rourke mumbled, without looking up.
“That’s a good idea. Go home and throw back a stiff one, boy-o. We’ll just see you in the morning.”
“No. I’m leaving.”
“I heard you.”
“… for Denver.”
“Now listen here…” his boss began and Rourke looked up at him. He felt almost detached to the situation right now, as if he was watching the whole scene unfold ahead of him.
“I’m leaving ta collect my girl.”
Rourke heard the hum of noise around them go silent. The papers that had been shuffling and the din of voices faded away. You could have heard a pin drop as he got to his feet slowly. He straightened up and looked at his boss directly in the eyes.
“I’m telling you: your girl married another man.”
“Then she’ll be widowed.”
“Are you threatening another agent?” he gaped, staring at Rourke.
“I’m telling you I’m leaving on the next train to collect the woman I love.”
“You can’t just leave here…”
“And you canna stop me,” Rourke quipped, handing over his badge. “Being an agent requires a fearlessness in the field and determination. It was long overdue that I took some of those qualities and applied them to my life.”
“Are you quitting?”
“I’ll be back when I can, if you’ll have me.”
“There might not be an opening with the agency when you return,” he warned quietly, extending his hand towards Rourke. He clasped it tightly, shaking his bosses’ hand firmly. This man had given him an opportunity he’d needed at the time and he would be forever grateful for it.
“I know for sure there will never be another woman like my Fallon,” he said heavily, hoping she hadn’t lost her heart to another man. He swallowed hard as he realized that he’d already messed up his life once and was preparing to do it again—but without Fallon this was all worthless. He needed her more than he ever realized and couldn’t see a future without her.
“Now, I’ve got ta go and I could use a few hopes and prayers, if you could spare them.”
“Of course.”
Chapter Six
Fallon was getting nowhere fast.
Each morning, Jack saw fit to abandon her to ‘mingle around town’ talking with the other women. He really could be frustrating and pig-headed, more so than Rourke ever was. He always returned in the afternoon, sharing what he’d found as they talked in hushed voices over dinner.
“I think things go a little deeper than we first imagined,” Jack breathed suddenly one evening out of the blue. They’d been there in town four days with nary a lead, or so she thought.
Every time Fallon spoke with anyone, they seemed to clam up or change subjects. It reminded her more and more of Shenandoah. The families that had active members of the Molly Maguires or hiding their loyalties were always the quietest. It was now just a matter of seeing which side they were on and gaining their trust.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think it’s a group of hoodlums causing the problems,” he whispered, leaning down and cutting into his food. The vegetables were overly cooked and practically turned to mush at the slightest pressure from a fork, yet he was sawing absently with his dull knife like it was shoe leather. His distracted expression was focused solely on the unseen plate in front of him.
“Jack?” she prompted.
His eyes met hers and she saw a different side to him. Jack looked concerned and a little taken aback. She’d seen the coldness to his face and was almost used to the way he taunted her daily. They were growing almost downright amicable if she ignored his barbs and picked out the nuggets of information between the verbal jabs.
This was different.
“I think you should stop asking around and just be careful.”
“No.”
“Do you have a gun?”
“I don’t.”
“Well, that’s stupid.”
“I’ve been here for nearly a week and now you are asking? Who’s the stupid one now? Why don’t you tell me what is going on so I can help make an informed decision on what to do next?”
“Do nothing.”
“You infuriate me, you know that?”
“Feelings mutual sometimes, dollface.”
Fallon threw her napkin down onto the table and sat back, crossing her arms over her chest. She stared at him for several minutes before he finally sighed and pointed at her plate with his fork.
“Eat. You are making a scene and drawing attention.”
She glanced out of the corner of her eye and sure enough, there were a few couples watching them. Nodding, she placed her napkin back over her skirts, smoothing it and picked up her fork. Keeping her eyes down, she hoped she appeared contrite to the other people in the room so they would go back to focusing on their meals.
“Why can’t you trust me?”
“It’s not about trust.”
“Then what’s going on?”
“Fallon,” he said, getting annoyed. “Can we talk later when we are alone?”
She nodded and took a bite of the broccoli that was on her plate, wincing at the blandness of the taste. Hurriedly, she shoveled what she could of her meal into her mouth, thankful that it was at least filling since it wasn’t palatable in the slightest. As they finished, Jack stood and held out his arm politely as was expected. In public, they were to act like husband and wife. This simple gesture sent a pang directly into her heart, reminding her of how she and Rourke would walk together. The sooner they were done with this fiasco, the better.
She wanted to go home to him.
As they stepped into the hotel room, it reminded her once again at how personal it was to have a man in her chamber. This was Jack, and they were simply working, she told herself over and over again. There wasn’t any interest whatsoever in him, but she knew it looked otherwise to those who’d seen them walk away.
“So, what is going on,” she whispered, seeing Jack put a finger up to his lips as he rolled his eyes. She turned her back on him and walked over to the bed in the corner, sitting primly on the edge. A single eyebrow raised of its own accord as she stared at him in a silent challenge.
“Like a bull in a china shop,” he whispered annoyed. “Next rule: assume the walls have ears and keep your voice low.”
“Then how come you are snapping at me?”
“Because you are asking silly questions.”
They glared at each other for a moment before he sighed, pulling the wooden stool placed neatly in the corner towards where she was sitting. It was almost downright cozy in the room, which made her nervous at how close he sat nearby. Jack leaned forward and crooked his finger towards her, showing she needed to lean closer.
“I don’t think they are hoodlums at all.”
“You said that already.”
“I think maybe they are testing the track to see what will create a quiet derailment. Dynamite would make a loud explosion and cause mass chaos but if they can discover a way to slip in unnoticed…?” he said trailing off, looking at her expectantly.
“… Then they could manage to steal anything important quietly during the night and get away with it,” she whispered, finishing his sentence. Her eyes widened at the realization of what they could be dealing with in this little town.
“They are professional thieves?”
“Outlaws,” he corrected with a smirk. “Don’t give them a fancy name.”
“You snide… twitterpated…” she began at the galling arrogance of the man.
“Don’t give me a fancy name either,” he interrupted, chuckling.
Jack was almost handsome when he smiled and the thought of it was alarming. His warm eyes and that smile revealed an impish dimple in his cheek. Whoever captured this man’s heart would be a lucky girl… with extremely thick skin, she mused with shocked realization.
Jack was a good-looking man—just not her man.
“… dolt!” she bit out in a hushed whisper before laughing with him. It was like they were finally reaching a somewhat truce between them and had broken through a barrier.
“You’re clever, dollface,” he admitted, almost looking proud.
“Took you long enough to realize it.”
“So you’ll stay put then and let me snoop around since you’re unarmed?”
“No, you’ll give me a weapon and let me help you.”
“I’d prefer you didn’t.”
“I didn’t ask what you’d prefer.”
“Thought I’d put it out there though,” he said with a shrug and looked away. Fallon opened her mouth to smart off at him and then had a sobering thought. He was worried for her safety.
“You’re afraid…” she breathed in sudden realization.
“Blasphemy,” he scoffed and jumped to his feet, turning his back on her. “My name and the term ‘afraid’ don’t belong anywhere in the same phrase.”
“I’m thinking you are frightened something will happen to me.”
“Ding! Ding! Ding! The little woman wins a prize!” he snapped sarcastically, causing Fallon immediately to surge to her feet as her temper exploded within her. She walked over and stomped on his boot angrily.
“Do you have to be such a boor?”
“Hey! I think you hurt my pinky toe,” he exclaimed, grinning wildly, his eyes flashing with merriment.
“Don’t laugh at me!”
“Don’t make me do it then!”
“And while you are at it - don’t discount me either, partner,” she whispered, poking him in the chest angrily as she stared up at him. “I might be shorter than you, but I can be just as mean and handle myself. You are helping me… not the other way around! Remember?”
“Fine,” he snapped, pushing her finger off his chest like a man swatting at a gnat that is pestering him. “We’ll take a little romantic stroll tonight under the stars to investigate more… so be ready, little wife.”
“I’m ready when you are.”
“Good.”
“Next rule: don’t let your temper get the best of you and make stupid decisions.”
“You had better quit implying that I’m stupid or I’ll maim you in some way or fashion,” she threatened angrily, wanting to smack that cold expression off his face.
“Not you—me! I was reminding myself of it,” he bit out, glaring at her, before turning to the doorway and opening it. “I’ll see you soon, wife.”
Fallon took a slight nap, trying to relax. She didn’t want to be tired when they headed out and hoped to be fully alert. This wasn’t a game; this was a job that could have disastrous repercussions. She wanted to finish the task set on her by Archie and head back to Chicago.
It wasn’t just about adventure and independence anymore. She wanted to be proud of something she’d done on her own. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Rourke’s dark eyes. She wanted to see the proud glimmer in the inky depths but only saw loneliness in her mind’s eye.
A hot tear slipped from her eyes and disappeared into her hairline unheeded. Was having independence and a sense of accomplishment under her belt worth all of this heartache? Time seemed to slip by as she lay there resting and before she knew it there was a knock at her door.
Sighing, she got up and straightened her gown, glancing at the window. Sure enough, the sun had set at some point. She heard the rap on her door and hesitated.
“Who is it?”
“Open it.”
“I don’t know a person named ‘Open it’,” she sassed, feeling snarky and trying to push the melancholy she felt down in her soul.
“It’s Jack–and I’m glad you listened.”
Fallon finally opened the door and saw that Jack had taken the time to freshen up. He stood there in a clean shirt and was freshly shaven. He’d combed his hair back, and it was still wet from his bath. It instantly made her think of Rourke’s wavy hair and how the curls would escape and fall into his face.
“Would you like to take a stroll under the stars, my little bride,” he said loud enough for anyone within earshot to hear. It was the arrogant wink that caused her to smother a laugh with a poorly placed loud cough.
“Certainly. Let me grab my reticule. Just a moment,” she replied in a perfunctory tone, seeing his nod of approval. Fallon grabbed a small bag and quickly joined him in the hallway. She lay her hand on his arm, knowing any person would expect it watching them. As they walked out into the street, she saw how quiet it was and almost commented on it.
“Here,” Jack said under his breath and slipped something into her hand that was draped on his arm. It was something hard and cool in her palm. Metal?
“Slip it in your pocket and keep it with you.”
“What is it?” she asked in a hushed whisper.
“A pocketknife. I didn’t figure you’d gotten anything for yourself yet. Don’t lose it though. That’s my lucky knife and has gotten me out of a few scrapes in the past. I’ve had it for years.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
They walked silently down the wooden walkway that ran along the buildings of the main street through town. The stars glittered overhead in the clear sky and the hollow sound of their steps reminded her of a rhythmic beat of her heart. As they came to the end of the block, she very nearly bumped into Jack as he made an abrupt right, heading down an alleyway. They came to a stop in the pitch black and hesitated.
“Listen,” he urged silently.
Fallon heard nothing for several moments and glanced up at his face in alarm when she did. She could barely make out his expression in the dim moonlight that reached them ther
e in the alley. She heard faint voices and a tapping sound that reminded her of hammering.
At first it was almost imperceptible because of their boots on the walkway, but the moment they’d stepped onto the dirt alleyway, Jack had recognized it. Something faint like that would never be noticed over the din of activity in town. It would have to be seen to be recognized by a person who’d heard it before or trying to identify something out of place.
She was just about to ask a question when Jack suddenly pushed her up against a wall. A faint squeak of alarm escaped her as she heard him curse aloud in response. Before she could apologize for making a noise or giving away their location, she heard his own apology before he abruptly kissed her.
It was the weirdest thing.
When Rourke kissed her, there was so much passion in his kiss. It was like every bit of his soul, his very essence was reaching to mingle with hers. When their lips touched, it was magical. The outside world fell away, and she knew what it was like to be bodiless. Kissing was just their souls touching.
Kissing Jack was wrong—on so many levels.
He wasn’t even trying either!
It was as if the idea of kissing her was as abhorrent to him as it was to her. There was no feeling of the world disappearing; instead, it was a nightmarish focus snapped into place. She didn’t even close her eyes. She stared blankly ahead as he pressed his lips to hers. There was about as much enthusiasm from either of them, and it was barely perfunctory.
He pulled away for just the briefest moment only to whisper, ‘they’re coming!’ before he pressed his pursed lips to hers again. She didn’t even have time to take a breath or ask another question as whoever it was coming down the alleyway was practically upon them. She heard a grating voice and the deadly click of a revolver. Jack froze against her and immediately stepped back.
“What do we have here?”
“Just out for a stroll with my wife.”
“That didn’t look like strolling much, now did it, Tommy?”
“I’ve never called that strolling… but I could start,” another voice snickered in the darkness. Fallon couldn’t see a thing, just dark shadows that were unrecognizable.
An Agent for Fallon Page 4
