An Undercover Detective’s Bride
Westward Hearts
Blythe Carver
Contents
An Undercover Detective’s Bride
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
An Inconvenient Bride Excerpt
Chapter 1
Afterword
An Undercover Detective’s Bride
Rachel Reed left Baltimore with a secret that none of her sisters are aware of. A secret so sinister she fears that drastic means need to be taken to protect herself and the ones she loves. She’d hoped she’d left the secret behind in Baltimore, until one fateful day a presence on the streets of Carson City brings the whole matter full circle.
Mason Murphy’s on a mission to protect a witness from a group of criminals with one intent—leave no witnesses.
Matters become complicated when the witness is the woman he fell in love with. A woman who left Baltimore abruptly and without notice. He could have lived without her. Maybe. But he can’t live with the knowledge that a band of thugs wants her dead.
1
Rachel Reed wondered how her sister Phoebe managed it.
Spending half of her week with her husband, and, much of the time, his boisterous young nephew.
“And this is the garter snake I found yesterday down by the pond.” Young Jesse showed off his treasure with pride. He held the wriggling snake aloft, staring up at it with the sort of unfettered joy afforded only to the very young, especially when they happened to be little boys who thought nothing of keeping snakes as pets.
Not that Rachel had very much experience with little boys. She merely assumed they were the opposite of young girls, and that was a subject with which she had much experience. Growing up with four sisters had taught her quite a lot.
“You know Miss Reed has no interest in your garter snake.” Jesse’s mother Martha, a bustling type of woman whose work never seemed to end, hurried down from the second floor with a bucket in hand. She brushed back a long, dark strand of hair from where it had fallen over her forehead. “That is hardly the sort of thing you wave in a guest’s face, Jesse, and I raised you well enough to know that.”
She and Rachel exchanged a look.
“At least, I think I raised him better than that. Sometimes it’s difficult to say. There are moments when I’m nearly certain he came from an entirely different world.”
Rachel was uncertain what was expected of her in this situation. Should she agree with this near-stranger? Should she say that yes, young Jesse did indeed seem to come from a world of his own? Just how did women with husbands and children react in situations such as this one? She certainly did not wish to cause offense.
There was nothing in the world she wouldn’t do to avoid causing strain in Phoebe’s life. This was Phoebe’s sister-in-law after all, and the two of them had grown quite close over the several weeks which up to that point constituted the length of her marriage to Sheriff Rance Connelly.
“Boys and girls are so very different.” Yes, that seemed neutral enough. She reached for her teacup, lifting it to her lips with a small smile. “Many was the time my mother voiced her thanks for having birthed nothing but daughters.”
Jesse, while in the act of returning his treasure pet to its box, looked at the both of them with a comical frown. “Why was she thankful for that?” He asked, puzzled.
His mother was barely able to suppress a laugh. “You’ll find out one day,” she assured him with a fond smile, reaching out to run a hand over his thick shock of curly hair.
He ducked out of the way, giggling madly before dashing off for the door leading to the rear yard. With a sigh, his mother turned to Rachel. “There are times when I fear the far-off ‘one day’ I always speak of when my son asks uncomfortable questions is coming sooner than I could have ever anticipated. Such as when he ducks away when I try to pet him.”
“I think you have plenty of time before he begins wearing long pants.”
She laughed merrily. “Then again, there are times when I look forward to that day with great excitement. It would be lovely, no longer being forced to share my home with a menagerie of snakes, toads, spiders, and the occasional earthworm.”
Rachel had no idea how the woman managed. She had no idea how anyone with children managed. Her sister Holly had been a teacher back in Baltimore, and even a fraction of the day which she’d been forced to spend with a room full of children had often left her weak, grouchy, and with an aching head.
To spend one’s entire day, from dawn until dusk, solely responsible for the well-being of a small person who one also happened to love a great deal left her feeling amazed and slightly worn-out.
Footsteps came from the stairs, and a moment later her older sister came into view. “The upstairs is as clean as we can possibly manage,” Phoebe Connelly announced with a tired sigh. “And I’m quite certain that I shall sleep for a week once this is said and done.”
Martha’s brows lowered. “It seems the woman my brother hired to manage the house in his absence did very little housekeeping. But she was quick enough to take his money, I assure you. Outright thievery.”
Rachel held her tongue on this. It seemed to her the house was in fair enough condition. Nothing had been stolen, after all, nor was there any damage in sight. What more could a person expect? And just how much filth could accumulate in a house when no one lived there?
If there was anyone to blame, in her estimation, it was Rance. But what did he know? He was just a man, one who’d been living as a bachelor at the time.
Phoebe lowered the bucket to the floor, stretching her back and shoulders, raising both arms over her head. “I told you time, and again, I can manage. You need not expend yourself so.”
“Nonsense,” she said, shaking her head at her sister-in-law. “You know I would never leave you with a new house to clean entirely on your own before you settled in. I’m only sorry now that bringing Rance in to live with me left you with this business to sort out.”
This house was a good deal smaller than the home Martha had shared with her late husband, in which she currently raised their son. Purchased when Charles was alive, and there was still hope of filling so many empty bedrooms with children, it left her with far too much space and too much to keep up with on her own.
Rance had been generous in agreeing to stay with his sister and nephew, offering protection and support in those early, trying days. Now that he’d found his bride, however, there was no continuing that arrangement.
Which was why Martha had taken in not one but two boarders, both of them young women whose weekly rent meant added security, and whose presence in the house meant companionship.
Rachel imagined, too, that the poor woman needed a new start. Many was the time her sister Cate had nearly swooned over the heart-wrenching situation. “Imagine. Losing one’s husband so suddenly, to such a silly yet tragic accident.” Had she placed the back of one hand to her forehead and fallen, limp, onto the velvet sofa in the parlor, it would have come to no surprise to any of her sisters.
They had all long since accustomed themselves to her flights of fancy.
This was one situation in which it was
difficult to find fault with Cate’s reasoning. One moment, the man had been alive. Young, healthy, full of life and vitality. The next, he was gone. Fallen from the roof while in the act of repairing a broken shingle.
Fate could indeed be cruel, the way it twisted and turned. The way it took a life while seemingly on a straight, determined course, and set it on a new course with no preamble, no advanced warning. Nothing whatsoever to give a body the chance to accustom itself before an entirely new situation was at one’s doorstep.
She knew this all too well. All of her sisters did. They had gone nearly overnight from a family of five motherless girls, all of them fighting to maintain their place in society, living in a comfortable home in a fashionable part of Baltimore and doing what they could to stretch the dwindling family fortune as long as possible by taking employment and doing their own cooking and washing, to five co-owners of a family ranch none of them had visited in fifteen years.
And they were managing again. While none of them had been particularly pleased or delighted with their new lot in life. In fact, Cate had gone so far as to attempt an escape, much to her detriment and the brief loss of her eyesight, they had all adjusted. The ability to adjust was a characteristic they shared, just as they shared their hair and eye color.
She supposed a woman had to be willing to adjust if she was to make her way in an often-unpredictable world.
At least Phoebe had married a man with a pleasant home. She looked around with a smile, admiring the simple yet charming surroundings. Perfect size for a childless couple, yet with two additional bedrooms on the second floor for when they decided to start a family.
“And what do you think?” Phoebe pretended to offer this question casually, taking a seat across from her sister. She lifted the lovely embroidered cover from the teapot and poured herself a cup, adding two lumps of sugar to the steaming brew before lifting it to her lips.
Rachel knew her too well. It meant a great deal that her sisters approve of this new arrangement. While it would still be a matter of months before she could take up permanent residence in this home, according to the terms of their father’s Will which demanded all five girls live on the ranch for one year, it was hers in spirit. She was proud of it, the only thing which had ever truly belonged to her.
“I think it is just perfect for you,” Rachel assured her with a wide smile. “I think you’ll be very happy here.”
Rather than beaming in pride and relief, Phoebe placed cup on saucer with a slight frown wrinkling her brow. “You sound fatigued. Anyone would believe it was you who just finished scrubbing an entire floor’s worth of rooms from front to back. What’s the matter?”
This is hardly a suitable topic for conversation, and nothing she wished to share when she had paid this visit in the hope of spending a bit more time with her sister, who had been splitting her days between the ranch and her husband’s home since their wedding.
Knowing that one’s sisters would someday marry and move into homes of their own, would one day fill their time with husbands and families, was one thing.
Living through it was another matter entirely.
She missed Phoebe. She even missed Molly to a degree, and they still shared a house. It wasn’t the same. Not now, now that she had a husband, someone with whom she now shared her most intimate thoughts. Thoughts which had once been shared with her sisters.
“No, no, we will not speak of such things today. This is supposed to be a pleasant visit.”
Phoebe’s frown deepened. “Now I know you are avoiding something because you refuse to offer a straight answer. Do not flatter yourself by believing for a minute that you have me fooled. Now, what is it?”
“You have far too much on your mind at present,” Rachel protested.
“Never so much that I cannot see when my sister is in need. And never so much that I would not have time to do everything I could to help, if possible,” she added as an afterthought.
Rachel shifted in her chair, suddenly uncomfortable. This was not the direction in which she had expected the conversation to turn. Then again, how did she expect to conceal her fatigue from one of the few people who had seen her nearly every single day of her life? She supposed that were the tables turned, she would have put Phoebe under the same scrutiny.
“I have not been sleeping well as of late, and that is a fact.”
“Again? I thought you had put that behind you. You told me so. You said your sleep had improved tremendously.” Phoebe leaned in, her familiar eyes narrowing scrutiny of her sister. “Is it the same dream as before?”
How Rachel wished she could say no. How she wished it were anything other than that dream, not just a dream, but a memory replaying itself again and again.
Phoebe had no way of knowing the reality in which the dream was based. Not when Rachel had neglected to speak of what she had seen just before she and her sisters had embarked for the train station back in Baltimore. Not when only she knew of the Tall Man.
That was how she thought of him. Tall Man was the name she had given him when it became clear there was no forgetting the figure, half-hidden by shadow in the narrow alley between their home and the one sitting beside it. A figure who had stood and watched them climb into the coach designated to carry them to the station.
Only she had seen him. Anyone else would have spoken of him immediately. Cate might have screamed. Holly might have marched straight up to him and demanded he tell her his business there. Phoebe might have insisted they avoid noticing him, reminding all in the coach that he was not a threat. Not when they were on their way to a new life.
No, only Rachel had seen him. Only she remembered him.
Only she knew in some deep, instinctive part of herself that he’d come for some devious purpose. How else could one explain away his menacing stance, his insistence at remaining half hidden?
The fist which had been clenched at his waist?
She had not seen his face. Never in any one of the many dreams she’d dreamt was his face ever clear. Why would it be? When she had never seen it the first place?
Somehow, that was the most unsettling part of all. He had no face. He might have been anyone.
Anyone who had come to their home with the intention of harming them.
Of harming her.
Why she believed he had come specifically for her, she could not say. Something about the way he had not flinched further into the shadow when she looked at him, perhaps. About the way he remained in place, as if challenging her to give him away.
As if he’d expected her to know him.
But she did not know any men. None of her sisters did, not really. Molly worked with men, so had Holly on occasion. Rachel had made many acquaintances at the telegraph office, she had worked for over a year prior to the move to Carson City. None of them could be considered anything more than that. No serious suitors, a truth which had plagued all of them.
Who might he have been? And why would he want to hurt her?
The fact that she had put so many miles between them did little to ease her mind, as evidenced by the continuing presence of her dream.
If she did not know who he was, or why he had come to menace her, what was to stop another such man from menacing her here?
There was no need for Rachel to confirm her sister's suspicions.
Phoebe patted her hand, the gold band she now wore as a token of her marital vows gleaming in the light through the window. “There’s nothing for any of us to fear,” she said with a cheerful tone. “All is well. You have nothing to worry about. Lewis keeps you safe on the ranch, Rance keeps me safe here. None of us are in any danger, none of us need ever fear losing our place in the world. We are all provided for.”
Rachel knew this. While learning to live on a ranch, far away from the bustling city and all of its many wonders, had never exactly thrilled her, the uncertainty which had plagued their days since the death of their mother and the realization that her family’s fortune was much less than it had once been
was a thing of the past. Once the year was up, she would be part owner of the ranch and would never need to fear again.
Nor would she ever need convince herself that a dull, cheerless man whose looks hardly thrilled her was marriage material simply because he could provide a comfortable lifestyle. This was the sort of man her mother would have wanted for her, for all of them. Someone to keep them comfortable, someone to provide stability, and a father for their children.
She had a great deal more freedom than she ever could have imagined for herself.
Now, she need only forget what she had left behind in those last heart-stopping moments before the coach had rolled away.
2
“And how are things at the house?” Rance Connelly leaned back in his chair, hands folded over his flat stomach. This position allowed his coat to fall open, revealing the leather holster in which he carried his pistol. It reminded any who noticed it, along with the badge affixed to his lapel, just who they were speaking with.
He was a mild-mannered man, and reminders such as this could come as a shock. He was the law in Carson City. Any man who thought they could get the better of him, that mild nature of his deceiving them into thinking so, would be sadly mistaken.
Half the town had learned as much upon witnessing that terrible day in front of the jailhouse, when he’d thrown himself in front of Phoebe to stop a bullet meant for her.
Rachel had believed such bravery to only exist in storybooks, or in the plays and novels which Cate read from morning until night. She had never known a man so kind and true, and all of the Reed sisters agreed that they owed him much more than the respect one offered a brother-in-law, or even the town sheriff.
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