Although she resented his dictatorial attitude, she accepted a thick sandwich of roast beef. He was right and she needed to eat. She hadn’t eaten much at breakfast or last night at supper. The last thing she needed was to pass out and set herself up to his ridicule.
Four men and two women joined her and Cloud—she couldn’t think of him as her husband. Three of the men were dressed as businessmen and the fourth appeared to be a cowboy. He aroused her curiosity.
She wished she could ask him questions about his work and ranch life. Was he traveling to buy cattle or perhaps to his ranch? Ladies did not pry.
The women were traveling together and resembled one another so much that Maggie decided they were mother and daughter. They sat across from Maggie.
The driver called “Heeyah.” He cracked a whip in the air and set the horses moving.
Their ride was as bumpy and twisting as the driver had promised. Thank goodness she’d eaten something to absorb the acid in her stomach. The day was cool and the breeze coming in the windows brought cold and dust. Too bad she hadn’t worn an ensemble the color of sand.
After they’d ridden about half an hour, the younger of the two women leaned forward. “I’m Virginia Winston but most people call me Ginny. This is my mother, Yvonne Winston. We’re on our way to Santa Fe in New Mexico to join my father.”
Maggie dipped her head in acknowledgement. “Pleased to meet you. We’re the Ryans, Maggie and Cloud.”
A businessmen dressed in a black suit with a red vest glanced around the interior. “I saw a royal crest on some of the luggage. Who does that belong to?”
Maggie met Cloud’s gaze. She waited for him to explain as much as he wanted to tell.
“That would be my wife’s.”
When he didn’t elaborate, the others in the coach waited expectantly.
The man who’d asked about the crest, the better dressed of the others, asked, “What crest is it and from where?”
Once again, Maggie deferred to Cloud.
After a long exhale, he admitted, “My wife is Princess Magdala of Bayergrovenia. I’m the Duke of Montpelier. We’d hoped to travel without revealing our royal connections until we reach our destination. Obviously we overlooked the crest on the luggage.”
Ginny clasped her hands at her breast. “Imagine, us traveling with a real princess and duke. I can’t wait until I can tell Papa and our friends.”
Her mother nudged her. “You heard the Duke of Montpelier say they wanted to keep their privacy, Ginny. You don’t be going on and on now.”
The prying man frowned. “Thought you fancy royal folks always had maids and such with them.”
Cloud dipped a nod. “They’re joining us in San Antonio.”
The cowboy pulled his work-stained hat down on his forehead. “Never heard of Bayer… whatever you called it.”
Maggie glanced around at the other passengers. “Bayergrovenia is a small country surrounded by France, Germany, and Switzerland. Like Switzerland and Luxembourg, we maintain neutrality in the politics of those countries around us. His Grace and I are on the way to visit friends in San Antonio who own the Menger Hotel there.”
Next to Cloud, a man dressed in a brown suit and matching waistcoat leaned forward and tipped his hat. “Name’s McDougal. I’ve stayed at the Menger. Nice place and sure has good food.”
Maggie smiled at him. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. McDougal. I’m happy to know Mary’s food meets with your approval.”
“Better than anything you’ll get on this trip, I can assure you. Stage stop and waystation food is hardly edible.”
The fourth man also dressed in brown but wore a tan vest and was seated beside Mr. McDougal. “Tanner’s my name. I see you brought a basket. You’ll be glad until it’s empty. I have me a little pack, too.” He indicated a small bag at his feet.
The man in black cleared his throat and handed Cloud a card. “I’m Tom Stanton. Just like to know who’s with me when I travel cooped up like this.”
Cloud looked at the card and then tucked it in his inside pocket. “I understand. Our conveyance is quite confining.”
Virginia wriggled in her seat. “The driver said we won’t stop during the night except to change horses. I declare I’ll be wilted as old lettuce by the time we get to a place to spend the night.”
Maggie was grateful she hadn’t worn that dratted bustle. “I suppose each of us will be less than at his or her best by the time we reach our destinations.”
As the day turned to evening, the breeze through the windows grew colder and snowflakes fell. Lowering the shade didn’t help much. Maggie pulled her long coat over her and Cloud as if it were a blanket.
Cloud whispered, “Would you like to trade places so you’re not right by the window?”
“Thank you, but this is fine.”
He sent her a questioning glance then snuggled under the wool.
Sharing created a sense of intimacy she hadn’t expected. She’d only intended to politely share her warm coat. This case promised numerous problems. What would happen when they stayed in a hotel?
Perhaps she hadn’t thought this through before she committed herself. Nevertheless, she had pledged and she would not renege. Papa had ingrained in her that her word was a bond never to be broken.
Chapter Three
Cloud dozed off and on during the night. Princess Snooty pulled what appeared to be a shawl from the small carpetbag she kept on the floor. She folded the fabric and used it to pillow her head against the side while she dozed. However, he noticed she didn’t sleep much. At least she didn’t whine or complain, thank goodness.
At one waystation, the driver announced they’d stop for thirty minutes so folks could stretch their legs and grab a meal. Everyone filed out of the stage. Maggie took his arm as if they were the closest of confidantes.
At the station door, a terrible odor greeted them.
He stopped. “We still have food left. If the aroma coming from inside is an indication of the food available, let’s eat ours as long as it lasts.”
She wrinkled her nose like a child mimicking a bunny. “Goodness, I agree. Smells like cabbage, which I like, and rancid grease, which I’d like to avoid. Plus, stale smoke and stale bodies. I know I’m probably rumpled and dusty, but some of those people smelled as if they hadn’t bathed in weeks.”
“They probably haven’t.” They turned and he guided her toward the stage. “I’m surprised you’ve eaten cabbage or recognize a rancid odor. You look as if you were raised on only the most expensive foods.”
She opened the basket and handed him a sandwich and took one for herself. “That’s not fair. You know nothing about my life.”
They walked as they ate.
He swallowed a bite of his sandwich. “True, I don’t know much about you except that you’ve actually been to Bayergrovenia. That must mean you speak whatever they speak there.”
“I was born in Bayergrovenia and grew up there. French and German are both spoken. I speak many languages because our country is small—similar to one of the counties in some of your states. One must be able to converse with people of the surrounding areas.”
He tried to imagine living in a place like she’d described. “I can see that. Your English is surprisingly good with almost no trace of an accent.”
“Thank you. I’ve worked hard to speak English clearly.”
“So, what languages do you speak?”
“Besides English I speak German, French, Luxumbourgian, Italian, Spanish, Flemish, Polish, a bit of Portuguese, and a smattering of Russian. Many dialects make up each, and I am limited to the official version.”
He figured she must be exceptionally intelligent. “I can’t imagine learning so many languages. Didn’t you have anything else to do?”
“Of course I did, but I told you in Bayergrovenia one needs many languages. I’m sure even you could learn if you wished. Once you master the first, the rest are easier.”
He couldn’t help grinning at her indig
nation. “Even I could learn, huh?
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you but you were the one who protested.”
“Apology accepted.”
“Do you speak anything besides English?”
He nodded and swallowed another bite. “Spanish, but not the kind you mean. I speak Mexican Spanish, the way immigrants from Mexico or those whose families have been in the Southwest since the area belonged to Mexico speak. You’ll hear a lot of that once we get to New Mexico and Texas.”
“I’ll depend on you to help me with the differences. I want to do every part of this job well.”
“So far, so good. Not sure a genuine princess would defer to her husband as you did when we started. Don’t think I’m complaining—I’m glad you did, but it surprised me.”
She finished her sandwich and brought out a handkerchief to wipe her hands. “But, you are very… how can I explain politely… you think women should defer to men and be seen and not heard, am I right?”
Whew, on the nose. “I believe women should marry and have children and keep the home as a place of refuge for her husband and offer loving guidance for her children.”
She nodded. “Most women have that as their goal.”
“But not you?”
She glanced at him and then away. “On the contrary. Someday I hope to marry—a real marriage—to someone I love and for us to have a family together. But now, I want the adventure offered by this case.”
They had walked as far from the waystation as he cared to. There were too many reasons numbers offered safety. He cupped her elbow and turned her toward the stage.
She held his arm and gazed up at the sky. “The stars are so bright out here. I never realized how many more there are than I was able to see in a city.”
“You study the stars too?”
She leaned against the side of the coach and looked up again. “Not really, I just enjoy looking at them. I know some of the myths but can never find the constellations.”
He pointed skyward. “Follow my finger. Can you see there where the stars form sort of a square?”
She tilted her head as she gazed at the sky. “I suppose that could be a lopsided square.”
“That’s Pegasus or the Great Square. Now follow the line as my finger traces the route to Cassiopeia. Notice Perseus seems to follow Cassiopeia.”
She looked at him and actually smiled. “Thank you. I’ll remember those now. I’m happy to learn we share some interest in common.”
“I imagine there are other things we share. Perhaps we’ll discover them on this trip.”
Now why did he say that? He didn’t want to share hobbies with her. No sharing anything. He wanted to get to San Antonio, complete the job, and go back to Denver for their annulment.
He had to admit that her smile lighted her features and doubled her beauty, if that was possible. Having her beam at him because of something he’d shared mesmerized him. For a brief moment he felt jealous of the man she’d love and, as she put it, marry for real. Dang, he must be losing his mind.
***
By the time they reached Santa Fe, Cloud was thoroughly tired of stage travel. They bid goodbye to the Winston women after being introduced to Mr. Winston. Ginny wanted her father to meet a real princess and duke. Poor woman would never know they were fakes. As long as she was happy he couldn’t see the harm.
The two businessmen in brown bid them goodbye.
Mr. Stanton remained with the stage and indicated he was going to El Paso. Hesitantly, the cowboy introduced himself as Johnny Rucker and remarked he’d be going that far too. As a group they walked to the hotel, La Fonda, on the Plaza and checked in. Maggie and Cloud deposited their small bags in the hotel room and washed their face and hands.
She peeked out the window. “Are you certain our luggage will be safe at the stage depot?”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets, slightly miffed at her question. “No, but we’d never get them here and then back to the depot in time for our ride tomorrow. We need a night in a real bed. Maggie, I’m sure you’re as tired of sitting as I am.”
She glanced apprehensively at the double bed. “Can we walk around? There’s plenty of daylight left.”
He really wanted to stretch out on the bed but he figured they needed the exercise after sitting for what seemed like years. “Daylight will probably last longer than our stamina. Traveling on a stage is the most tiring thing I’ve ever done.”
He opened the room’s door and came up with a devilish plan. “Let’s get something to eat. Have you ever eaten from a street vendor?” He figured she would turn up her pretty nose at the idea.
She glided through the door then took his arm. “Not yet but I’m open to new experiences.”
They walked out of the hotel and along the plaza in front of the governor’s palace, which was a misnomer given the less than palatial building.
She scanned the area. “The style of buildings here is similar to some towns we came through yet different because the entire town matches. These earthy colors and shapes appear appropriate for this land.”
They passed a group of people speaking New Mexico Spanish. “Did you understand what those people were saying?”
“Pronunciation was different but I think most of the words are the same.” She gestured to a street vendor. “Is that what you had in mind?”
“Perhaps, let’s watch a moment.” He intended to be careful in case the filling was rancid. He was surprised she appeared agreeable to his plan.
They stood under the wide cover of the walkway. The vendor’s cart included a brazier which provided heat to keep the food steaming hot. This seller proved popular so Cloud decided buying from her was safe.
Cloud took Maggie’s arm. “Shall we?”
Maggie appeared hesitant. “What is she selling?”
“Tamales, probably made of pulled pork. We’ll see.” He purchased two of the tamales and handed one to Maggie.
After showing her how to remove the cornhusk, they bit into the masa-wrapped meat.
She closed her eyes and swallowed. “Oh, my, this is wonderful. I could eat a dozen of these.”
He couldn’t believe his ears. “We may find something else offered along the way. If not, we’ll buy more from her before we return to the hotel.”
She licked a finger before using her handkerchief to clean her hands. “What if she’s sold out by then?”
After chuckling at her eagerness, he conceded, “All right, I’ll buy us each another tamale.”
He gave her one and they walked along as they ate. Occasionally, she paused to look over the goods of the people selling from the walkway. As if she would wear any of the things offered. Most displayed jewelry made from silver and decorated with turquoise. One woman showed small woven wool rugs while another displayed carved and painted wooden figures, including some of saints. In a corner, a woman had brightly colored blankets.
Ahead he spotted another busy street vendor. “Let’s see what this man is selling.”
“Are those little pies?”
“Empanadas.” He raised his hand to display four fingers to the seller.
Maggie accepted half the purchase. He was still surprised she was willing to eat from a street peddler. He had expected her to complain about cleanliness or lack of a table. He wondered about her past. Perhaps there were street peddlers in Bayergrovenia. They continued their walk.
She bit into the empanada. “Mmm, spicy and delicious.”
They walked on until he surveyed their location. He realized they’d wandered too far from the safe part of town. He didn’t want to alarm her, but several men who looked like desperados studied them.
He put a hand at her back to turn her in the opposite direction. “We should head back to the inn before dusk. I need time to study the file Archie sent with me. I hesitate to do so where anyone but you can see the papers.”
“I forgot about them. We should hurry.” Her pace increased.
He cleared his throat. �
��I’d like something to drink, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, but I don’t want to go into a cantina along here. Perhaps we can find something at the inn.”
After a block she glanced at him. “I’m sure you noticed those rough-looking men back there who acted much too interested in us. They were rather frightening.”
He was surprised she had noticed the men. “I didn’t want to mention them and alarm you.”
She snapped, “You should always be honest with me, Cloud. We’re supposed to be partners on this case. You have to trust me.” Her voice held censure.
“Yeah, yeah, so I heard. How much help would you have been if those men had accosted us?”
She sent him a glare that would melt metal. “More than you think.”
A few more steps and she glanced at him again. “Why do you dislike me so much?”
Rats, he thought he’d done a good job of hiding his feelings. “It’s not that I dislike you personally, but I don’t want to be paired with you on a case. I know your type. Your kind always brings trouble.”
“My type? My kind? What right have you to condemn me?”
“I know plenty about your kind of woman. I was keeping company with a woman of your class. Her name was Henrietta Cooper. When I asked her to marry me, she was appalled because I wasn’t good enough or rich enough. For her I was just a dalliance to spite her father. I vowed then to keep my distance from women like you.”
“She sounds like a selfish snob and someone to avoid. I’m not like her, Cloud, not at all. You shouldn’t use her as a measuring stick for women. You’re doing the rest of us a disservice if you do. You’re also cheating yourself.”
“Maybe. I’m entitled to my opinion. I’ll hold on to it until proven wrong.”
They continued in silence until they were in the plaza.
She headed toward the first vendor. “We should buy more of those tamales and empanadas to take with us tomorrow. We could keep them in the basket Marianne used for the sandwiches.”
At least maybe she was over her snit.
An Agent For Magdala Page 2
