An Agent for Kitty

by Nerys Leigh

  It was all Kitty could do to stop herself from gazing at him in unbridled adoration. It was ridiculous how much she liked it when Ben referred to her as his wife, but having him come to her defense at the same time set her heart fluttering.

  A fluttering heart couldn’t be good for a person, could it? She’d read about palpitations and they didn’t sound like something she’d want.

  Mr. Webster pinched the base of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Riley. I didn’t mean to be impolite.”

  She absently nodded her acceptance of his apology. She almost wanted him to be rude some more so that Ben would act the protective husband again.

  “Just… don’t interfere with the digging,” Mr. Webster said. “The work we’re doing here is extremely important. Great discoveries are being made.”

  “Isn’t the skull one of those discoveries?” Ben asked.

  “Of course, but I have no doubt it’ll turn up. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” He lowered his eyes to his maps again, picking up the pen with which he’d been writing.

  “One more question, Mr. Webster,” Ben said.

  With an irritated huff, he looked up.

  “Who do you think stole the skull?”

  “I really don’t know, but if you want somewhere to start, try Ashwood and his cronies across the valley. He’d do anything to get his hands on what we’ve found here.”

  Ben nodded. “We’ll do that.”

  With Mr. Webster’s attention once more on his maps, Mr. Miles led the way back outside.

  “That went well,” Ben remarked once they were out of earshot.

  Mr. Miles smiled. “Don’t take it personally. He’s just annoyed that Mr. Fink overruled his authority by hiring you. They don’t like each other very much. My apologies for his behavior to you, Mrs. Riley. That was uncalled for.”

  “That’s all right, it didn’t bother me.” She’d heard far worse during her lifetime.

  “Why don’t they like each other?” Ben said.

  Mr. Miles indicated a tent a little way from Mr. Webster’s. “That’s Edwin Hall’s tent. He’s the site manager. You have any questions about the running of this place, go to him. Louis Webster only approached Mr. Fink for funding when he couldn’t come up with it himself. He thinks Mr. Fink is only in it for the prestige and doesn’t care about the scientific advancements.”

  “Is he right?”

  “Somewhat, but not to the extent he believes.” He led them past a big wall tent in the center of the camp. “This is where we eat and hold meetings, and that’s the kitchen.” He indicated a smaller tent beyond, with one side open all the way along its length. Two men worked inside, an appetizing aroma emanating from the ovens and pans they tended.

  Kitty’s stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten since lunch. She ignored it.

  Something had been bothering her, and even though she rarely spoke, she forced herself to now. “I understand the real value of this skull is that it’s part of the almost complete skeleton.”

  “That’s right,” Mr. Miles replied.

  “So why did the thief only take the skull? Why not take the whole thing?”

  “As I said, we haven’t excavated the whole thing yet. A lot of the bones are still in the ground, including most of the tail.”

  “So why take only the skull? What value does it have on its own?”

  He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. It is valuable by itself, but it’ll be worth much more with the entire skeleton.” He pointed between two tents to where grass and trees marked the line of the river. “The river there is deeper and slower and the bank is made of rock, so that’s where we bathe.” He glanced at Kitty apologetically. “It’s not very private.”

  She looked up at Ben. “Um…”

  He touched his hand to the small of her back and smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll work something out.”

  Mr. Miles finally brought them to a halt at a tent just like all the others and drew back the flap. “And this is where you’ll be staying.”

  Kitty walked inside. The sunshine filtered through the canvas onto a small table, two chairs, and two low cots with a chest at the foot of each.

  Two.

  She darted a look back at Ben. The corner of his mouth hitched up at her startled expression as he passed her and deposited his bag onto one of the cots.

  “Thanks,” he said to Mr. Miles, placing Kitty’s bag of books onto the table.

  “I’ll leave you to get settled then.” Mr. Miles placed her carpet bag beside Ben’s. “If you have any questions, come and find me. I’m always around, either in camp or at the dig site. Right now that’s about a quarter mile west, at the cliff face. Supper’s in half an hour, in the mess tent.”

  “One more question,” Ben said as he turned to leave. “Who do you think stole the skull?”

  Mr. Miles pursed his lips. “To be honest, I don’t know. A lot of the men here think it was Ashwood’s team from over the river, like Mr. Webster said. There’s a fierce rivalry going on between the two camps. But I’m not convinced of that. They have enough of their own finds; they don’t need to steal ours. But who else would steal it, I have no idea. Anyway, I’ll see you at supper.” He nodded to Kitty and walked out.

  She turned her gaze to the cots. “Are… are we both sleeping in here?”

  “Looks like it,” Ben said, sounding entirely too cheerful.

  Her legs didn’t seem to want to move. “But… but… but Mr. Gordon said the marriage was in name only.”

  He walked over to the cot and patted it. “My bed.” He picked up her carpet bag and moved it to the other cot. “Your bed.”

  She still didn’t move, her gaze flicking between the two cots. The six feet between them didn’t seem enough. “But…”

  He came to stand in front of her and took hold of her shoulders, looking into her eyes. “You can trust me. You know that, right?”

  She bit her lip and nodded. She did know it. But still… “Maybe there’s another tent available?”

  He shook his head, his expression hardening. “Even if there was, you’d still be sleeping in here with me. There’s no way I’m leaving you alone here at night.”

  Glancing at the open tent flap, she almost laughed. As if any of the men out there would bother a plain woman like her.

  “No one is interested in me.”

  Ben took his right hand from her shoulder and touched his fingers to her jaw, moving her gaze back to him. “Kitten, you’re a pretty woman in a camp full of men. Everyone is interested in you.”

  She blinked up at him, the air in her lungs suddenly far too thin.

  He released her shoulders and turned back to the bag on his cot. “Let’s get unpacked. We don’t want to miss supper. I’m starved. And it’ll be a good chance to find out what everyone here thinks happened to the skull.”

  She had to force her feet into motion to get to her own cot.

  He was just making a point. He didn’t really think her pretty.

  Did he?

  ~ ~ ~

  With their clothing unpacked, they went in search of food. A line had already formed at the kitchen tent and Ben and Kitty joined it.

  Ben’s stomach growled at the delicious aroma that was now even stronger than it had been when they’d passed by earlier. How long was it since he’d last eaten?

  “Afternoon, ma’am.”

  He looked round at the voice to see one of the men tip his hat to Kitty as he walked past, his gaze lingering a little too long for Ben’s liking.

  She gave him an uncertain smile in return.

  Two more men did the same, and then several more. Suddenly, everyone in the camp seemed to want to greet her.

  Feeling the need to make it abundantly clear that she was with him, Ben moved closer and slipped his arm around her waist.

  Stiffening beneath his touch, she looked up at him in surprise.

  He smiled and winked. Let her think it was only his usual joking, fl
irty nature. Just so long as the men around them knew in no uncertain terms that Kitty was his, and they would be wise to stay away.

  It was strange how she seemed to have awoken a possessive nature he’d never realized he had. Something about being married, perhaps. It wasn’t jealousy, though. He didn’t get jealous where women were concerned. Never had.

  Still, this feeling he had with Kitty was interesting, the urge to protect her and keep her close, and make it clear that if any other man laid one hand on her, Ben would remove it from his arm. The impulse wasn’t as unpleasant as he would have imagined. All in all, he liked being her husband. Temporarily, of course.

  Her training was another matter. Not that he didn’t want to train her, but how to go about it was causing him some problems. She was just about the most quiet, skittish person he’d ever met. If he was going to turn her into a Pinkerton agent, his first concern was increasing her confidence.

  Ben hadn’t yet been required to teach another agent, but he remembered his own training. At the time, it had primarily seemed to involve trying not to get killed while his training agent, a crotchety veteran agent named Brock, repeatedly told him how useless he was and to get out of his way. Although Ben had learned a lot simply by watching him, due to the fact that Brock really did know what he was doing, he wasn’t going to use that technique with Kitty. She would need a far more subtle, personal approach.

  They reached the front of the line and took a tin plate each, onto which the cook dumped a mound of mashed potatoes and an indeterminate, gloopy… something.

  “What do you think it is?” Kitty whispered as they carried the plates to the mess tent.

  Ben studied the fatty lumps. “Stew. I’m almost sure it’s stew. With some kind of… meat. And I think those are bits of potato. Maybe.”

  She giggled and he took the opportunity afforded by her full hands to see her smile. She had a pretty smile. He just wished she didn’t always cover it up when it appeared.

  “I’m sure it’ll taste all right,” he said.

  “It doesn’t matter. I can guarantee that I’ve had worse, however bad it tastes.”

  They found two empty spots on a bench at one of the tables inside the mess tent and sat. There were two more of the long tables, rapidly filling up with men, plus a smaller one at the far end where Louis Webster, Abel Miles, and a couple of other men sat.

  Webster glanced at Ben and Kitty and for a moment Ben thought he would wave them over to join them, but to his relief Webster just looked back at his meal. There was a reason Ben had chosen a seat in the center of one of the tables that the rest of the workers used. They needed information, and there were few places better to get tongues wagging than over a meal.

  He looked down at his food. Especially when talking might be preferable to eating.

  Two men approached them, and there was a brief, silent standoff behind Kitty’s back before one of them apparently won and took his place on the bench beside her.

  Ben immediately regretted choosing seats in the middle.

  “Good afternoon, ma’am,” the man said as he sat. “You must be the lady Pinkerton agent I’ve heard so much about. I’m Cyrus Small.”

  Less than an hour in the camp and already news of Kitty’s arrival had been making the rounds. This was going to be even worse than Ben had imagined.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Small,” she replied in the quiet voice she’d begun to lose around Ben but still used with everyone else. “I’m Mrs. Riley.”

  The introduction sparked a flurry of names as every other man at the table introduced himself. A hint of pink touched Kitty’s cheeks as she smiled, clearly uncomfortable with all the attention.

  “And I’m Agent Ben Riley, her husband,” Ben said pointedly when the introductions had come to an end, even though no one seemed to care.

  Kitty took a bite of her stew and her eyes widened in surprise. “This is actually very nice,” she whispered to him.

  He tried his own and it did taste surprisingly good. Not as good as Pearl’s cooking back at the Pinkerton headquarters, but much better than he was expecting.

  “You’re right,” he whispered back. “Who would’ve thought?”

  Tiny creases appeared at the corners of her eyes as she smiled, and warmth spread through his chest. She saved her real smiles for him.

  “So I guess you’re here about the missing skull,” one of the men on the opposite side of the table said, just as Ben was wondering how to bring the whole thing up. Ben recalled his name as being Fred… something.

  “What do you think happened to it, Mr. Green?” Kitty said.

  Fred Green. That was it.

  Fred puffed up with the importance of being asked his opinion. “I reckon it—”

  “Ashwood’s men took it. No doubt about that,” a man interrupted from further along the table.

  Fred flashed him a look of annoyance before returning his attention to Kitty. “As I was saying, I reckon it was probably stolen by the other group over the valley. That dinosaur’s just about the most important discovery ever made in this area. Everyone knows they’re jealous.”

  “So why not wait until it’s all out?” Ben asked. “Why take the risk of being caught for only the skull?”

  There was a hush while everyone thought that over.

  “Could there be another explanation?” Kitty asked in her soft voice.

  “I’ve never been convinced they stole it,” someone said from Ben’s left.

  Fred scoffed. “Since when, Rollins?”

  “Since it was taken,” Rollins replied indignantly. “I just kept it to myself.”

  “All right, then, what do you think happened?”

  Rollins shrugged. “Might have been someone from the outside. That skull’s worth a lot even without the body.” He glanced around. “Might have been one of you.”

  An abrupt silence descended, and then a man opposite Rollins burst into laughter. The tension snapped like a bowstring and everyone else laughed with him.

  Ben leaned forward to look at Rollins. He was laughing too, but the amusement didn’t reach his eyes. Ben made a mental note to corner him by himself so they could question him in private.

  Perhaps they had their first clue.

  Chapter Four

  Evening was closing in by the time they finished supper.

  A fire had been lit in an open area in the center of the camp and many of the men were gathering around it, talking and laughing.

  Ben looked at the growing blaze as they left the mess tent, probably thinking it was a good opportunity to further get to know the men.

  “You can join them if you like,” Kitty said, slapping a hand over her mouth as she yawned on the final word. The combination of two days of travel and talking to so many people had left her exhausted.

  He moved his gaze to her. “You look like you’re about ready to drop.”

  Her weary smile was swallowed by another yawn. “I am tired, but I can go back to the tent on my own.”

  It would give her a chance to change into her nightdress and get into bed in private. She’d been fretting over that particular dilemma since discovering they’d be sharing a living space.

  He shook his head firmly. “There is no chance I’m leaving you alone at night. Didn’t you notice the way they were all trying to get close to you in there?” He jabbed one thumb over his shoulder at the mess tent. “I tell you, if it had gotten any worse, I was going to start throwing punches.”

  She snorted a soft laugh. Granted, some of the men had paid her more attention than she was used to, but it hadn’t been anywhere near as bad as Ben was making out. Still, it felt nice that he wanted to protect her, even if it was just because he was responsible for her safety while on the case.

  He took her hand and wrapped it around his bent elbow. “Let’s go back to the tent and get some sleep. We can question the men some more tomorrow.”

  They’d only gone a few steps before they were intercepted by one of the men Kitty had se
en seated with Mr. Webster for supper, a tall, broad-shouldered man in his late thirties.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Riley,” he said, nodding to her, “I’m Edwin Hall. I figured I should introduce myself, seeing as it’s my job to keep this place running.”

  Mr. Hall was dressed in practical, hardwearing garb like the rest of the men, although his clothes were markedly less dirty. His boots were unusual. Most of the footwear she’d seen around the camp was of brown leather, worn and muddy. Mr. Hall’s boots were black and, though obviously well worn, they appeared to have been recently polished.

  “We’ve been told to come to you if we need any help,” Ben said, his tone friendly.

  “That’s right.” Mr. Hall smiled, although it seemed to Kitty to not quite reach his eyes. “And I’d appreciate it if you kept me informed on everything you’re doing and what you find out. This theft has got us all worried.”

  Ben smiled. “Will do. I hope we’ll have your skull back to you very soon.”

  “Much obliged.” Mr. Hall nodded to Kitty, said, “Ma’am,” and walked away.

  “Ex-army,” Ben said as they started off again. “You can tell by the way he carries himself.”

  “And the boots.” She had no idea how soldiers carried themselves, but the boots now made sense.

  He glanced down at her with a smile. “Noticed those, did you?”

  “Just like I noticed the dirt on your shoe when you’d been out all night.” Normally she wouldn’t have dreamed of saying something so impertinent, but her usual wariness was fading with Ben.

  He chuckled. “I can tell I’m going to have to watch myself around you.”

  Arm in arm, they made their way through the camp until they reached their tent. Ben held open the flap for her to enter and tied it shut behind them.

  With the sun heading towards the horizon, the interior of the tent was shrouded in gloom. He lit the lamp on the table and turned it low, sending a soft glow around the space. Then he sat on his cot and pulled off a boot.

  When Kitty didn’t move, he stopped and glanced up at her. “Something wrong?”