by Aileen Fish
“Why would you think I’m the train robber?”
“A few reasons, really. Glynn mentioned that the police suspect you, your brother, and Mrs. Phelps.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, believe me, we are the last people the police would suspect. I don’t know why, but Glynn was lying.” She swallowed hard. “Why else did you suspect me?”
He took a deep breath. “Mrs. Browning knows your companion, Mrs. Phelps. The widow seems to recall a time a few years past when Mrs. Phelps had stolen an expensive painting, but she was never arrested. Then there’s the fact that you haven’t been fully honest about your family. And I did catch you on the train with a man you claimed was your brother, and you were both poorly dressed.” He swept his fingertips near her eyes, removing her tears. “I’ve known since we first met that you weren’t telling me the truth, but it intrigued me and I wanted to know more about you. The more I discovered, the more charming you became.”
“But…you threatened to shoot me.” Her voice cracked.
Inwardly, he groaned and shook his head. “A mistake I’m paying for, I assure you. Please forgive me for allowing anger and doubt to warp my judgment. Although I gave the threat, I would never harm you. It’s like you’d said earlier, we have shared too much, and I will never forget that.”
She sniffed. “Forgive me for not being honest with you. I didn’t want to think you were the thief. In fact, my heart tried to tell me you weren’t, but everything else pointed in your direction.”
“What proof do you think you have?”
“Mainly, it’s how your wealth has doubled since the trains have been robbed.”
“Oh, good grief.” He chuckled, but humor didn’t have anything to do with the irritation surging through him. “My wealth doubled because I know how to invest my money. My investments paid off, and yes, my income has doubled. I have proof of that, by the way, so if you don’t trust my word and want further evidence, you can speak to my accountant—the man who has handled my investments.”
Growling, he rubbed his forehead, realizing dried blood was all over his hands. “But I suppose what bothers me more is wondering why you are interested in my holding. Why do you even care how much money I’ve made lately?” He really didn’t want to know she was just like the other women…just like Agatha Carlton, the woman he’d almost married.
Slowly, she rolled her head from side to side. “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”
“Try me.” Using his hand, he stopped her head from moving so she could look at him once more. “This is the time, Nicole. We are opening up to each other. Don’t break the bond we are sharing right now.”
~*~
Nicole grew weaker by the minute, but she didn’t know if it was due to how much blood she lost, or if it was her desire to just give up the charade she’d been playing with him. She had been wrong about him, terribly wrong, and because of the things they had said, she knew the damage had been done. Nothing would be the same after this.
The burning pain in her shoulder wasn’t lessening, but she knew it wouldn’t for a while. However, she needed a doctor and soon. Her wounds needed to be sewn up. This wasn’t the first time she’d been shot, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, either. However, Gordon still won the prize for the most bullet holes. Even her father couldn’t beat Gordon’s record.
Being shot wasn’t a laughing matter no matter if this was her fourth time. In the other situations, she knew she’d live. This time…she wasn’t sure since there was nobody close by to patch her up. Yet she didn’t want Ashton to leave her side to locate a doctor and bring him here. Strange, but if she died, she didn’t want anyone with her but Ashton Lee. The man of her dreams.
And nightmares.
“I’m a Secret Agent,” she began slowly, “hired by none other than President Grant to find the person—or persons—responsible for these train robberies.”
She waited for his response, staring deeply into his hazel eyes to gauge his reaction. It took only a few seconds, but soon his mouth stretched into a smile, flashing the dimple she loved to see.
He leaned over and caressed her cheek again. “Sweetheart, perhaps we should talk about this later. You are delirious, and you have lost a lot of blood.”
His comment, mixed with his odd reaction, made her chuckle. The movement brought more pain to her shoulder and she cringed. “Oh, Ashton. I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”
He tilted his head to the side. “So you think you’re a Secret Agent working for the President?”
“No, I don’t think I am, I know I am.”
“When did women become Secret Agents?”
She managed a small smile. “During the war, there were many women who were Secret Agents…spies as they were called back then. Now there are only a handful of us. Mrs. Phelps is one of them.” She took a deep breath when another pain sliced through her. When she relaxed a little, she continued, “As for the painting she allegedly stolen…well, she didn’t steal it. She was actually taking it from the people who had originally stolen the art work and returning it to the person who legally owned it.”
His forehead creased. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“It’s done that way?”
“It can be. In fact, the night we met, I was taking something from General Babcock’s study. I had it hidden in my gown as I came down the stairs, mere seconds before I fell into your arms.”
The light of awareness made his face take on more color. “I wondered what you were doing in his study.”
“You knew I was there?”
He nodded. “Before we met, I was outside the house and saw you in the study. Even Babcock himself talked to me from the window for a minute. I’m assuming you were hiding in there during that time.”
She thought back to that night and recalled the moment. “Were you the one he thought was in his wife’s flower garden?”
Ashton nodded. “That was me.” He blew out a gush of air and frowned. “What did you steal from Babcock?”
“Evidence that had him arrested for the whiskey-ring fraud.”
His eyes widened. “From what you took?”
“I found a journal that had the information we were looking for. I gave it to my brother who then turned it over to the President. That’s the reason I left you right after you caught my fall, because I needed to deliver the journal to my brother. He waited outside for me.”
“Your brother is a Secret Agent, too?”
“And my father.”
He gasped. “Are you jesting? The whole family?”
She nodded weakly. “That’s the reason I was hesitant to introduce you to my family. I have never introduced them to men I have liked.”
Ashton’s face softened. “And how many men have you liked? I’m sure you’ve had your share of admirers.”
“Actually, you are the first man I have wanted to introduce to my family.” Perhaps she shouldn’t have confessed that, but since she was dying, she thought to lay everything on the line.
Once again, silence fell between them. The only noise was the popping of the wood in the fireplace. Soon, he removed his stare and looked toward the fire. Her heart dropped. Apparently, he didn’t return her feelings. So then why had he acted as if he found pleasure in her arms as she had his?
After a few awkward minutes, he cleared his throat and looked her way. “So the Secret Agents think I’m the train robber, do they?”
“Yes. Also, after asking around, it was mentioned a few times that someone meeting your description was on the train during every train robbery.”
“Impossible. I wasn’t on the trains during those times. Don’t you think I’d know that?”
“Do you have an alibi for those times?”
He arched an eyebrow. “Do I need one?”
“Maybe not now, but—”
“Nicole, I’m not the thief,” he snapped. “Why can’t you believe me?”
“I’m not the only one you need to convince,” she w
hispered brokenly. “And the way they see it, you are the main suspect.” It was an effort, but she lifted her good hand to touch his arm. “Ashton, I’m only trying to help and prepare you for—”
“If you were trying to help me, then you’d talk to your family and the other agents and convince them of my innocence.” He scowled.
Her heart broke, mainly to think her last words here on this earth would be of anger and pain. More than anything, she wanted him to know how she truly felt about him. Before her body finally succumbed to death’s door, she must tell him. “Ashton…”
Sounds from the hallway boomed through the empty house, making Ashton swing around. “The servants are back.”
He moved to stand but she tried to stop him with her hand. Unfortunately, she was very weak and couldn’t. Her arm plopped to the ground beside her. “Ashton, don’t go. There’s something…I need…to tell you.”
“You can tell me later. We need to find a doctor for you,” he said, standing.
“Please, Ashton. Stay…with me.”
“I’ll be right back, I assure you.”
As he headed out the door, she closed her eyes, tears slipping freely now. “I love you,” she muttered just before the pain in her arm slowly disappeared and her world turned dark.
Chapter 14
Sounds carried through Nicole’s head as if she were dreaming; several different voices she didn’t recognize. Only one stood out, warming her heart. Ashton spoke to her. Strange that she could hear him after she was dead, but he was telling her to hold on—not to give up. He coaxed her in a gentle voice, and she thought she felt his hand touch her cheek and stroke her arm. But how could she feel that if she were already dead? Ghosts couldn’t feel things, could they? Then again, how would she know since she’d never been a ghost before?
Other things passed through her mind. Words she recalled her father telling her from yesteryear, and even her brother’s voice. They loved her. They supported her. And they would always protect her. Unfortunately, they couldn’t protect her this time, and the one man she truly wanted to protect her didn’t trust her any longer.
“Oh, Ashton.” She heard herself say his name, but didn’t remember her lips moving. Nothing made sense in the dreamlike world where she floated on a cloud, not really seeing anything, only hearing bits and pieces. Thankfully, though, the pain in her arm was gone. She’d always believed that after she died, she’d be made whole again when she lived in Heaven.
Gradually, the fuzziness in her head disappeared. Her shoulder began to throb with pain, and even the sounds around her became clearer. Two women were talking; one was giving instructions to someone. Apparently, Nicole hadn’t died after all, unless she did and came back to life.
She slowly opened her eyes. The sunlight streaming through the open curtains made her squint. Another pain shot through her, but in her head this time. She closed her eyes and moaned, rolling her head away from the direct light.
“Oh, youz awake! Quick chile, go fetch Missah Lee,” the older woman instructed the other young woman in the room.
Nicole felt a hand on top of her head. “Miz Nicole? Can ya hear me?”
“Yes,” Nicole croaked.
The hand disappeared from her head and a few seconds later came back with a damp towel, placing it in the same spot. “Youz still a little feverish.”
Once more, Nicole tried to open her eyes. Instead of the sunlight, she saw the woman’s face. Round and very plump, the dark skinned woman had the cheeriest smile and kindest eyes. Nicole thought her accent sounded like she could have come from the deep south. “Who…are you?”
The older woman smiled. “I’z Patsy. I’z Missah Lee’s housekeeper.”
Nicole tried to smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Patsy.” Her gaze moved past the housekeeper to sweep around the room. “Where am I?”
“Youz in Missah Lee’s guestroom.”
“Where is Ashton?”
“I sent Veronica ta fetch him.”
Nicole rolled her head again to peer at her shoulder. Clean white bandages were wrapped neatly around her shoulder, appearing very professional. “Ashton found a doctor?”
“Waal, I’z not a fess’nal doctah, but I’z de best around deez parts.” She puffed her chest proudly. “I helped de doctahs durin’ the war. But I knew’d a lot even a’fore I helped dem.”
Nicole tried to smile again. “I’m sure you did a wonderful job, and the bandage looks clean.”
“Yes’m, Miz Nicole. I try to keep ya well ‘nuff, so dat ya can heal.”
Heavy boot steps rattled the floor in the hallway as if someone were hurrying to her room. Seconds later, Ashton walked in. He wore different clothes from when she’d seen him last. A white shirt with brown cravat, a gray waistcoat and black trousers—that looked exceptionally good on him—were clean without a single spot of her blood. Naturally, he would have had to change by now. He wasn’t as clean shaven as she had thought he’d be, but nonetheless, he was still quite handsome.
When his gaze met hers, he smiled and rushed to her bedside. Gently, he took hold of her hand. “How are you feeling?”
She swallowed hard, hoping to get rid of the dryness in her mouth. “I’m hurting, but it’s not as bad as before.”
“Are you hungry?”
Just the mention of food had her stomach grumbling. “Yes.”
He looked at the older woman. “Patsy, will you get her something from the kitchen?”
“Yes’m, Missah Lee. I do dat lickety-split.” She bustled out of the room, her gray servant’s dress swishing around her wide hips.
“Patsy tells me she took care of my wound,” Nicole said, getting Ashton’s attention once more.
“Yes. I knew I could trust her. I’ve known her for years.”
“She is very kind.”
He rubbed her hand softly. “You had a high fever, and Patsy assumed it was infection setting in your body. She found some herbs to heal you.” His smile relaxed. “I’m relieved to see they worked. It was touch and go there for a while. We were all very worried about you.”
Confusion swam in her head. What did he mean by there for a while? “How long have I been here?”
“Three days.”
Shock vibrated through her and she gasped. She couldn’t possibly have been here that long. “Three days?” Oh Heavens, she had to get out of here. Her family and agent friends must be worried out of their mind by now. She tried to sit up, but between the pain in her shoulder and Ashton holding her to the bed, she couldn’t move.
“Nicole, would you stay still? You shouldn’t move yet.”
The panic surging through her must give her strength. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. “But…but…I’ve been here for three days. Does my family know I was shot?”
His smile disappeared and a scowl quickly replaced it. “How could I tell your family when you have lied to me about them this whole time?” His jaw hardened. “The last I knew, your family had moved into the hotel while your house was being remodeled.” He arched an eyebrow. “Can you perhaps tell me what I discovered when I went to the hotel enquiring about your family?”
Sadness washed over her, wrenching her heart. She shouldn’t have lied to him, but…that was her way of life. At the time, she hadn’t had a choice. “You probably discovered that we had never stayed in the hotel.”
“Correct.” He sighed heavily and scratched his scruffy chin. “Now tell me how was I supposed to find your family if I don’t know where they are staying?”
Tears burned her eyes and she blinked. Now she realized the error in her decision to lie to him, but it was too late. Her father and brother must be out of their minds with worry right now. She needed to get word to them, and fast. “Forgive me, Ashton. You are right. I should have told you, but…” a tear slipped from her eye even though she tried not to cry, “you must understand this is the way I live.”
“Indeed? Your whole life has been about lying to people?”
Nicole didn’t like the way he
’d phrased it, but it was true. Never in her life as an agent had she regretted her actions. But right now, she wished she could have taken everything back and done things differently with Ashton. “Not all of my life, but mostly it has been that way.” She sniffed. “Growing up with a father who was a Secret Agent during the war, I knew that if I told anyone about what he did for a living, he might get killed—or even his family would be killed. I learned at a young age to not get close to anyone because I’d be tempted to tell them the truth about the family business.”
He pulled away from her, but remained on the bed, and folded his arms across his chest. “It sounds to me like you have lived a sad life.” He shook his head. “And here I thought nobody could possibly have a past worse than mine.”
How could he possibly have a sad life? Something deep inside her heart wanted to probe, but she knew he was waiting for answers…answers she needed to give. “I did have a sad life. I didn’t have any close friends, unless they were older women like Mrs. Phelps who was an agent. I learned not to trust anyone except for my agent friends.”
He studied her through a narrowed stare. His jaw was hard, and yet sadness coated his hazel eyes. “Tell me honestly, Nicole. Do you believe I could have robbed my own train?”
More tears leaked from her eyes and her heart clenched even tighter. If she could only express the guilt that was in her heart. If only he could see right through her to the person she was inside—instead of the outer shell she’d allowed him to see.
“No, Ashton.” She swiped away another tear. “I never wanted to believe you had done that, even after the reports started coming in about people seeing a man who looked like you on the train just before they were robbed. My heart fought against the evidence that your wealth had doubled as I tried to convince myself that there must be a very good reason why you have more money now.” She swallowed the lump of emotion clogging her throat that made her voice croak. “And the only reason I had searched your study was to find proof that you were not the thief.”
